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local-space-case · 4 years ago

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Bakugou Katsuki is Not A Loser

Word Count: IDK

Rated: T (mention of abuse, self-loathing, cursing)

AO3 Account: FerociousFerret (out here only posting first drafts on a whim why?)

When Bakugou sees the looming silhouette of Endeavor at the hospital outside of Todoroki’s room, he thinks he feels a million emotions at once.

Some he’s familiar with like fury, annoyance, and the protective fire he venomously denies exist are the ones off the top his head. But there’s also fear. An emotion he’s embarrassedly familiar with. A deep anxiety clawing it’s way out of his chest while still somehow keeping a tight grip on his lungs. It commands he stay rooted in the middle of the bleach white hallways that even so quiet he thinks they must be louder than he is. He wants to say something. He wants to yell, scream, curse, kick the fucker out the goddamn window, but he can’t.

Until the number piece of human shit takes a step closer to the door.

“OI! You can’t fuckin’ go in there!”

It comes out like the nasty snarl he was hoping for. The pro hero glances at him with a look disdain before reluctantly taking a step away from the door. Bakugou assumes he must not want to cause a scene. Doesn’t stop the stubborn shit from arguing with him though.

“He’s my son, I have a right to visit”. His tone was clipped, formal, placating, like he was delusional enough to think Bakugou was going to lose this fight.

Bakugou Katsuki was not a loser.

“Last time I checked, trash belongs outside not stinking up disinfected air.” He lets his gaze linger on a door across the hall. “Besides, I don’t listen to losers.”

Endeavor seems to puff up like a pissed off cat. God, so that’s where Strawberry Shortcake gets it from.

He looks like he wants to beat Bakugou into the ground and Bakugou lives by the philosophy of ‘If it can crawl, it can brawl.’, so he’s up for anything this fucker has to offer. But he doesn’t, instead he closes his eyes and inhales like he’s having an fucking asthma attack.

“You shouldn’t insult your elders.” Endeavor says after a beat. Bakugou huffs a laugh.

“Or what? You’ll hit me?” It’s an attack and based on the way the hero recoils, he knows it. Everyone knows it. Everyone knows it because it was broadcasted on live television. It was like a car crash, so gruesome but you just can’t tear your eyes away until you see that everyone is okay.

However, like a car crash, it’s abundantly clear that no one in the Todoroki family is okay. But, Bakugou didn’t find out when the crash happened. No, he knew the truth deep down when he saw the unsteady swerves of one of the drivers who had the audacity to essentially give him first place at the Sports Festival.

Bakugou thinks about that moment a lot. Usually at night when he can’t sleep because he feels like someone’s watching him, he wonders what Todoroki saw that snuffed out the fighting spirit he’d paraded around before their round.

He’s young, but he’s not naive. Not anymore. He knows, undoubtably, that during their fight Half ‘n Half didn’t see Bakugou’s drive to win, he saw his father’s flaming fists.

He feels his usual scowl paint itself onto his face, “How does it feel knowing your entire family is afraid of you?” The older man doesn’t say anything, deciding that floor is much more interesting than the conversation Bakugou wants to have. The conversation he needs to have.

“Number One Hero, hah?,” he mocks, “You know, that’s really fuckin’ funny. That’s a hoot ‘n holler. You could be a stand up comic.” he gives a pause waiting for a reaction. He doesn’t get on.

“Too bad they don’t like sacks shit lyin’ around.” A pause. “You didn’t answer my question by the way, so tell me, how does it feel knowing your whole family is afraid of you? That you have no friends because you decided you didn’t need them, you only needed to be on top. Well,” a sharp bitter laugh echos through the hall, “congratulations.”

He stalks up to Endeavor and gets up in his personal bubble. He can see a blue eye trained on his own red ones. With a pointed grin, the blond knows he has the man’s attention now, so he keeps going.

“How does it feel knowing that you lost? And before you open that fuckin’ cavity ridden mouth of yours, you’re gonna listen and you’re gonna listen good.” Endeavor had tried to open his mouth to object because apparently the idea of losing something was getting to him. Bakugou could deal with this.

“How can you call yourself a hero after everything you’ve done? How do you do that? How do you sleep at night knowing that the so-called number one hero can save a civilian but fuckin’ torment his family?”

Endeavor is trying to ignore him. He can tell because his eyes are once again back to the floor. He won’t let him though.

“How does it feel knowing that, after all these years, even though you won, you lost.”

Bakugou is, and has always been competitive. He wants to be the best, he needs to be the best, because only the best people can be heros. He’d always adored All Might growing up, but not the same way Deku did.

When Deku saw All Might, he saw a beacon of hope, a peace bringer, an unstoppable force of nature. He saw a role model. A mountain of a man who was as strong as a tiger, yet gentle like a rabbit. Someone who uses their power for good instead of evil.

When Bakugou saw All Might, he saw a winner. A strong man who beat villains into the ground and obtained more money and praise than anyone else could ever hope for in a lifetime. He didn’t see a man, he saw a king who had kept a tight hold on his crown. He wanted to take it. So, yes he liked All Might for his position of power, but he respected Endeavor.

Endeavor may have been the number two hero, but Bakugou saw himself in him. He saw the fights on tv with the walls of fire, the punches, the yelling, he saw it all. Endeavor was not like All Might, he never backed away from a fight, never bothered to try and find a peaceful resolution, but he always won. He won with fiery fists and scowls and he didn’t smile for the press, he wasn’t fake.

Bakugou thought he felt hate for Deku, but now he knows better. This is hate. This feeling in his heart that’s screaming, hurting, burning.

This is hate.

This is hate because he can see his reflection in this monster draped in human skin.

He sees himself pushing Deku away because he thinks he’s superior, kicking, hitting, burning, screaming, he can see it all. He can see Deku become smaller and smaller and he remembers how happy it made him because Deku knew his place and that meant he won.

He sees Endeavor hitting his wife, screaming til he’s blue in the face at Todoroki, his siblings tear-streaked faces when they realize Touya is never coming home. He sees Todoroki’s determined expression flicker with fear before dropping to the ground like a rag doll. He sees Endeavor’s please smirk turn into a sour scowl because his son didn’t get first, he didn’t win. He sees Todoroki sitting in the main area while all their classmates pack up to go home for the holidays with raised hackles and paranoid glances at the slightest noise. He sees what once was Todoroki Touya on live tv telling the whole world his father’s sins and he wants to make him pay.

He sees the ambition, the anger, the low tolerance for anything that isn’t the best, the need to be the best at everything all the time but, Endeavor didn’t win, did he?

Endeavor became the number one hero because his rival fell, but he did not win. He was a martyr to the public, but a monster to his family. He was the monster under bed, the demons in their heads, the footsteps they should fear, and the man they should not love, but worship.

He took and took and took until his family had nothing left to give. He sleeps at night uncaring that his family don’t have a home they have a graveyard full of phantom memories of the lives they never got to live and the dreams they never got to chase. They get the ghosts in the mirror, a walking corpse for a body, and the perpetual state of mourning the love they’d never receive.

Then again, maybe Endeavor didn’t win or lose, because you can’t win a game you aren’t even playing. The moment he insulted, or raised a hand to his wife or children, he was disqualified.

Bakugou knows he’s no saint, but he’s not a loser. He’s worked hard to get his head outta his ass because he already loss. He lost his best friend and any dream filled nights that may have come to him. He learned.

Shaking his head out of his thoughts, he glances back at the man he’d looked up to and respected for many years. A man he hopes karma kills as slowly and subtly as he had with his family. He huffs.

“Yeah, I don’t like losers. Now, go the fuck home before I call security.”

He backs away but doesn’t leave the doorway as the sack of shit made the right choice and shuffled away. Bakugou makes a noise of satisfaction.

The explosive blond glances inside Todoroki’s room where the staff drugged him up on sedatives and silently wills him to get better. He’ll never say it out loud, but they were friends, and he did care.

(He also fears, that maybe, the news is right about how insanity runs in the family and that maybe he didn’t chase Endeavor off fast enough before Todoroki lost it completely like his mother and brother. Bakugou hopes that maybe he finally did something good.)

The vibrating of his phone jolts him from his thoughts and he reads the notification.

Shitty Hair: hey bakubro we wanted to know if ur still coming to movie night

Shitty Hair: no stress tho!!! a lots happened so we get it if u wanna skip

Another huff of laughter, this time less bitter, escapes from his lips.

He allows himself to smile and tells Kirishima he’s on his way and that they better not start without him. Yeah.

Bakugou Katsuki is a lot of things, but he’s not a loser.

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pi-creates · 4 years ago

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Top 5 Aasim Moments

Is anyone surprised that when CJ asked if people wanted to collaborate on a Top 5 post about a character that I’d choose my favourite pyro?

This was quite fun to talk about and I know everyone else who collaborated on this idea shared the sentiment. If you wanna check out some other lists:

@stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale talks about Louis @kaylee-wolf talks about James @taurusicorn2400 talks about Violet @akemi-rose578 talks about Ruby

Though in all seriousness, Aasim is probably one of my favourite characters from the whole series, and I feel like even as a side-character he has some very good moments that reflect well on who he is as a person. And while most of what we see are only small details, I like what those little details could mean if they were expanded upon.

So yeah, here are my personal Top 5 Aasim Moments from the Final Season.

5. “Aasim was the third.”

“Aasim said you knew how to survive. He could just tell that the school would be safer with you there. I voted for you because I liked you, but his reason, it was better.”

This is one of those things that I think sums up a lot about what kind of person Aasim is. He is thinking about the big picture and the long term consequences from a logical standpoint rather than a purely emotional one. Violet and Tenn have more emotional reasons for wanting Clementine and AJ to stay – and that is all fine and dandy, but I personally like the distinction that Tenn makes which implies that Aasim is trying to consider the future of everyone at the school.

It doesn’t matter if you’ve been really nice to him or horrible, he sees Clementine and AJ as people they need to keep around if there’s some guy in the woods who has already taken some of the kids from the school before. It is simply a smarter move to keep the people who know how to survive close by when there may be an impending danger creeping around.

And I think it’s also really telling that he’s only known Clementine and AJ for a few days at the time of the vote, and he’s already gotten a read on their skills. It seems a little counter-intuitive given his sometimes awkward social abilities, but he’s clearly observant and using those observations to inform his decision making.

Plus on a personal level, I like that this shows Aasim as like a middle ground between Violet and Louis. Violet seems to vote in terms of Marlon deserving punishment, and therefore AJ did nothing wrong and shouldn’t receive any repercussions for his actions - whereas Louis just lost his friend and knows that AJ is a threat, and he’s voting from an emotional standpoint where he’s hurt and isn’t focusing on the future because of it.

I find both those mentalities realistic and in-character, but too extreme - Aasim is upset by the death of his friends, he acknowledges that Marlon had made some bad decisions, but he still votes for the pair to stay. He feels like the only character who is listening to the explanations and processing things clearly.

Overall, I really like the way that Tenn tells us about this moment – I just wish that maybe this revelation came earlier in the plot so that we could potentially bring up the discussion with Aasim and thank him, or hear more of his thoughts overall.

4. Going hunting for rabbits

The only pure, one-on-one interaction you can have with Aasim. And I just wish there were more moments like this.

I like that Aasim will ask Clementine if she’s a good shot – and he will take her word for it and let her help without any undercurrent of doubt. And if you do well, he’s quick to say that it’s thanks to you that they’ll end up with more rabbits than expected today.

It’s just nice, ya know? It’s an acknowledgement that we are making an effort and it is appreciated.

And it once again gives you more insight into his priorities – he cares about the group and is hoping that Clem shares his mentality of prioritising the group’s wellbeing and survival first. That she is ok with putting the work in to make sure that they not only get through today, but tomorrow and the next.

Perhaps this is all down to personal preference – but in this series I really really like meeting characters with that mentality. There are too many groups that we meet who don’t have long-term plans, or their plan is essentially to make it up as they go along, take what they need and screw the consequences.

Forward thinking is a really good quality to have in the environment they’re all stuck in, and this scene cements that. I just wish there were more scenes where I could reciprocate having this mentality and potentially find a way to corroborate ideas on where the school is heading.

3. Standing up for Clementine and AJ during the Marlon drama

This is technically spread out between two parts – how Aasim deals with the twin revelation, and also how he deals with the aftermath of AJ shooting Marlon.

It is a very tense situation, emotions are running high, everyone has just learned some unhappy secrets, they are trying to process that Brody has just died, and a gun is being passed around like a hot potato and pointed everywhere. A lot of the kids are confused and unsure if what they’re hearing is truth or lie.

And naturally, since Marlon doesn’t want the truth to come out like that, he isn’t trying to clear things up. If he doesn’t let Clem explain either and simply paints her as the threat and the liar then it is easier for him to gloss over the details. And in reality, no one wants to believe someone they trusted would hide something so heavy from them – and some people would rather continue to trust them because that feels better. That makes us feel like we haven’t been betrayed.

But Aasim doesn’t do that. He wants to hear the story, and he makes sure he shuts Marlon down in his attempts to stop Clementine from explaining herself. Keep in mind, this is also at a time when Marlon has the gun, and is threatening to shoot Clem if she doesn’t shut up. To speak up at all in this moment is dangerous, especially when you are siding against the person with the gun.

I know that the main point of this scene is to appeal to either Louis or Violet – but we shouldn’t forget that we didn’t need to appeal to Aasim for him to stand up for you in his own way. He does that for himself because it’s the right thing to do – you let people explain themselves when something happens. He might not get in the middle of the fight like Louis or Violet, but I still appreciate that he picks up that something is wrong and gives Clem the opportunity to speak up.

Yet of course, we know what happens at the end of that episode regardless of how we play this final scene.

Marlon gets shot. AJ doesn’t understand why everyone is angry. Violet pulls her cleaver out and tells Clem and AJ to go inside, while pretty much everyone else is stuck somewhere between wanting to punch someone and bursting into tears.

While everyone is stuck in this limbo of anger and sadness, Clem leads AJ back towards the dorms. And Mitch isn’t pleased in the slightest and pulls his little knife on the duo. And this is the second time in this whole drama that Aasim steps in to deescalate.

If you choose the silent option [...] or let the timer run out on this choice, Aasim will tell Mitch off, telling him to stop and that what he is doing isn’t helping.

It’s a little thing, but if people have seen me comment on argumentative scenes in these game, I don’t like when characters don’t know how to deescalate. So having a character blatantly point out how fighting fire with fire sometimes just causes a bigger fire and burns everyone – yeah, I appreciate that. Any character who deescalates is a good thing in this series.

2. Watching out for his friends on the boat

Imagine being on that boat, being scared and hearing your friends in clear distress, when suddenly someone appears to break you out – and instead of simply saying “great, get me the hell outta here”, Aasim and Omar wait for Clem to attend to Louis/Violet first.

They know that the highest priority at that moment isn’t them, it’s their friend who has received more direct attention from Lilly.

But then of course things get worse and Clem gets caught too. And Regardless of who is captured, the first thing Clementine hears when trying to find an escape is Aasim asking her if she’s alright. Thanks for checking in, Aasim, that’s a good friend move there.

And that’s his whole thing with the boat – he is watching out for everyone else there. He watches out for Clem who just got there, and in the escape from the boat he is either being the shoulder for Omar to lean on, or he beelines over to Louis to support him after his ordeals from being captured.

He just... aaah, he’s being a good friend and trying to help. It isn’t self-preservation that drives his actions, it’s the preservation of the group as a whole. After everything that happened on that boat, I don’t think we could blame the characters if they wanted to hightail it out of there without thinking. Aasim doesn’t forget about his friends in spite of how scared he tells us he is. How can I see this and not think he’s just an incredible friend to have in the apocalypse?

1. Protecting Willy from the raiders

This is another point with two parts.

The first part is obvious – Mitch has just been stabbed in the throat, and Willy is prepared to run out there into the thick of things. It is only Aasim being quick to grab a hold of him that stops the boy from meeting a similar fate.

And it’s awful to think about – Mitch was a friend to both of them, they’re both probably shocked, hurting, and they don’t have the time to do anything about it. They can’t save him, it’s too late, and they can’t mourn him or do anything. Somehow, Aasim can at least keep his head clear enough to stop Willy from getting himself hurt too. And I can’t help but feel how bad that must hurt emotionally too, to be forced to hold everything back because you have to prioritise everything else over your friend who is dying.

Yet they don’t break. They keep moving. It takes a lot of inner strength to not crumble, and these two manage.

But then there is the second part to this point – and hear me out, we’re entering speculation territory.

The raid continues, and the kids carry on with their plan and fall-back to the admin building. They set off their traps, end up stuck up stairs, and Abel decides to throw a molotov towards them. In the next moment Clem and AJ go into the headmaster’s office, and Aasim and Willy turn and move somewhere down the hallway.

We don’t see either of them again until Clem is outside and given the choice to save Louis or Violet. And when we do see them, it’s seeing Aasim unconscious in the back of the cart, and then Willy suddenly appears behind Clem as he exits the admin building.

…

How?

Aasim and Willy were together when we last saw them, and yet somehow Aasim got caught and Willy stayed in the admin building somewhere?

It doesn’t make sense to me. Aasim had been shown as the one who would be less likely to get caught out of the pair. And surely if they managed to get Aasim they should have been able to more easily get Willy too, right? So why didn’t they?

The most logical answer I can come up is that Aasim got caught while attempting to keep Willy hidden from the other raiders. Whether he was playing distraction and got caught in that task, or if he simply didn’t have time to hide/run after Willy got somewhere safe, in either case I feel like that’s a huge risk to take to save someone else.

But he does that, and I think it’s an incredibly selfless move to make. And I really do believe he will do that - I believe he cares enough to go the extra mile to keep his friends safe.

And I want the details. I love everything that is implied in these moments, but I want those details solidified.

That is the thing about me adoring Aasim as a character - there’s less concrete information to latch onto, but what is there is good.

Are there any other things I missed that you guys love? Let me know - always happy to talk about the pyro.

#twdg #twdg s4 #twdg talk #twdg t5f #twdg aasim

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mistergrass · 4 years ago

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Zodiac Mom Headcanons: Momiji’s Mom

Slowly but surely I am making my way through these mom posts. This time let’s talk about someone whose worst moments as a mother were put on blast for the audience to see.

Rat & Snake Mom | Ox Mom | Tiger Mom | Rabbit Mom | Dragon Mom

Momiji’s mother is an only child born in Berlin.

Her father, a handsome and charismatic man, is a renowned photographer. Her mother, beautiful and alluring, is a dancer. They’re drawn to each other immediately when they meet on a photoshoot that features her mother’s dance troupe.

Their romance is as short-lived as it is passionate, and the affair comes to an abrupt end when her mother becomes pregnant.

The responsibility of a child falls almost completely on her mother’s shoulders, essentially ending her dance career (something she had left her family to pursue), and the beginnings of a cruel resentment begin to take form.

Her father has the spirit of an artist -- not wanting to be tied down to one woman, and not very suited for a traditional family lifestyle. That being said, he doesn’t abandon mother and child completely.

As Momiji’s mother grows up, her father will pop in and out of her life as he pleases. She thinks her mother can be too strict, too mean, and becomes a difficult child to handle as a result. But when her father comes to visit, she is over the moon and perfectly behaved. He’ll take her to museums, show her the photographs hanging in his studio, give her a stepping stool so she can help in his dark room, and (unlike her mother) will never ever scream at her even when clumsy, childish hands accidentally spill things or knock things over.

Her father never sticks around for very long, and as wonderful as it is to see him, it hurts tenfold when he leaves. And so, she grows up with her mother’s snappish impatience, and her father’s casual and conditional affection.

Going into her teenage years, Momiji’s mom begins to come into her own as an artist -- admiring and following the path of her father. She loves painting and ceramics, but she begins to grow into an undeniable beauty and it’s not long that she’s discovered as a model.

Her mother does not approve of this choice. For her, it’s bad enough that she has to watch her daughter openly prefer her father’s company to her own (despite everything she’s given up to raise her, while he can barely spare to send a postcard on their daughter’s birthday), but now her daughter is adding insult to injury by pursuing her father’s lifestyle. A lifestyle her mother was forced to give up to have a child.

It also doesn’t help that Momiji’s mom finds almost instant success as a model.

Where her mother was simply impatient before, now she becomes cruel.

She begins to undermine her daughter’s beauty, nitpicking at every little thing about her appearance. Momiji’s mother is now being constantly told that her photos are drab, ugly, unprofessional. That her beauty is fleeting, that the world around her will discover one day how little talent she has, and that her artistic abilities are worthless and boring. All this while she’s still only a teenager.

Momiji’s mom acts out in different ways, but mostly by taking on more modeling work (that exhausts her) and bringing home boyfriends her mother would never approve of (for good reason).

Her first serious boyfriend is a man six years her senior who is possessive and jealous, and rips to shreds the last bits of self-esteem she had left.

By the end of their four year relationship, Momiji’s mother has come to believe that something inside her is deeply, truly ugly. She has an overflowing anxiety that others will see her for what she truly is. Something that is wholly incompatible with her inability to be alone -- whether romantically, or via the need to surround herself constantly with people.

It’s at this time, at 20 years old and in her second year of university, that she meets Momiji’s father at a campus mixer.

At first, she’s intimidated by him (thought that doesn’t stop her from making conversation). She finds he’s not just studying abroad here, but attends the university full-time. He’s fluent in Japanese, German, and English, and seems so much smarter than she believes herself to be. In addition, he has a cold, distant demeanor to him that makes him seem unattainable.

Momiji’s father on the other hand, is taken immediately by this woman. He’s awkward and nervous in large social gatherings, but has been told from an early age never to outwardly show his discomfort. But she talks so passionately, so freely, that he can’t help but be drawn to her. When he fumbles over his words at the end of the night to ask her out for dinner, she realizes that she’d mistaken his shyness for apathy, and it immediately enamors him to her.

After two dates, they become inseparable.

She’s taken in by his kindness and gentility. He listens to her as if everything she says matters. He isn’t at all like the arrogant personalities she’s dated in the past, and if anything has an aversion to talking about himself. He never once makes her feel stupid, puts her down, or makes her feel worthless.

She’s prone to terrible mood swings and bouts of manic self-loathing that will leave her a sobbing mess. But where this has driven away boyfriends in the past, it only serves to make him more devoted to her. He holds her in his arms, and never once gets upset with her for being so much to handle.

Momiji’s father is an only child from a high-ranking Sohma family, and has had the entirety of his life mapped out for him since birth. He works to inherit his father’s business, and to maintain their standing in the family. Insurmountable pressure had been put on his shoulders from a young age, one that isolated him from making true friends in favor of focusing solely on his studies. He was never allowed to be overwhelmed, to not be good enough, nor to be disobedient.

But Momiji’s mother is like a walking piece of art -- chaotic and beautiful. He finds her endlessly interesting. He’s never met anyone who talks so openly about the things they love, the things they hate, or their own fears and insecurities. He likes feeling as though he can take care of her. He likes being someone reliable for her. And, eventually, he finds her to be the only person in the world that he can be vulnerable with. He has only ever cried in front of her.

For the last two years of college they spend all their free time together. He uses his cushy Sohma allowance to take them on trips and long weekends around Europe. And when the time comes for him to return to Japan after graduation, he can’t picture even a moment of his future without her.

He proposes, she says yes, and she agrees to leave her life in Berlin behind to move to Japan.

It’s a difficult transition. Though she had started learning Japanese when they first started dating, she’s far from fluent. It makes forming friendships and new connections within the Sohma family all the harder.

It’s also clear that her mother-in-law does not take too much of a liking to her. Momiji’s father bends over backwards making sure that their new home has space for her to continue her artistic pursuits, which comes off as frivolous to her new family. She also has limited housekeeping skills which reflects poorly on her ability to be a proper wife.

It’s an isolating experience, especially with her husband working long, late hours nearly every night. The loneliness begins to eat at her, resurfacing the shattered self-esteem that her new husband had spent the past two years healing. She seriously considers moving back to Germany on more than one occasion, but then she gets pregnant.

She’s not ready for a child. It’s too soon, and the thought of taking care of a whole other person is terrifying when she can barely stand to get out of bed most days now. But her husband assures her this will be a good thing, that maybe it will help the aching loneliness she feels.

Before she has a chance to get excited, they’re summoned by a young Akito.

Momiji’s mother doesn’t really process what she’s being told. Her husband has to translate what the little six year old is saying to her, and when he does his face is pinched and anxious.

A curse, he says. Her child is cursed. Somehow it makes sense, what with everything that dwells inside herself, but it’s hard for her to grasp this whole thing beyond that.

The pregnancy is a difficult one, filled with complications and scares that leaves her health completely depleted. When Momiji is born two months premature, her nerves are completely frayed.

True understanding of her child’s situation doesn’t really hit her until she holds a small rabbit in her arms, swaddled like a baby.

She vomits when it first happens. The transformation leaves her completely shaken, and she can’t understand why no one else around her seems to find this as horrific as it obviously is.

She does her best for the first few years. Honestly, she does. But the child makes her nervous. The supernatural nature of it all terrifies her, and she shakes every time she tries to hold her child and finds a little rabbit there instead.

As he grows older, she finds herself snapping at him over the smallest things, just as her mother did to her. A guilt builds inside her steadily that somehow she is at fault for this, that her hidden, disgusting nature warped and mutated their child. The thought of it puts her in hysterics at times, and she finds she can never relax in her own home.

Her husband urges her to keep herself together. There’s a desperation in his voice when he talks to her now. He reminds her, again and again, that above everything else Momiji is their child. Theirs, and no one else’s. He is their son that they have created, and he is still a symbol of the love they have for each other. Once she adjusts to the situation, she’ll learn to love him the way he knows she can. She just needs more time.

During this period, other zodiac mothers make an attempt to reach out, and her Japanese is finally at a level that she can have pleasant conversation with them. Haru and Yuki’s mothers invite her to lunch often enough. Shigure’s mother is also very hospitable. She also takes a real liking to Kureno’s mother, though the woman is clearly disliked by many of the other women in the family.

It helps, but it’s still difficult to talk to these women about her issues with the curse and with her son. Their eyes are judgmental, and she worries if she falls apart in front of them it would not be met with the same warmth as her husband (though he’s hardly ever around anymore).

Stress and guilt and shame and fear slowly build inside her for the next four years. Then, one day, she sits down to paint and realizes she can’t. She’s too locked up -- the reality of her situation has become too overwhelming, and she can’t even release it through her art.

She finally decides to tell someone about what’s going on. Her husband had been very clear with her that this curse is to remain completely secret, but it’s not as if she wants to do a news interview. All she wants is to talk to her mom.

Her mother is still the same harsh, critical woman she’s always been, but they’ve grown closer in the past few years. Becoming a mother herself has made her appreciate her own mother more, and the distance has softened both of them to each other considerably.

She tells her mother the whole story, with her listening surprisingly sympathetically throughout. By the end of the conversation, Momiji’s mother feels more comforted and loved by her mother than she has in years.

It’s Momiji’s father that gets the call from his livid mother-in-law demanding to know what’s happened to her daughter, and if he’s doing anything about the fact that she’s having a complete nervous breakdown that features wild delusions regarding their child.

Momiji’s father comes home that night, and for the first time he becomes truly angry at her. He scolds her for telling her mother anything about their situation, which only serves to make her just as angry since she was only seeking a bit of support.

But it all gets much much worse when he says how lucky they are that her mother thought she was deranged.

The whole world drops from below her feet when he admits that he let her mother continue to think that she was clinically insane. The man who had always defended her, understood her, cared for her -- the man she had left everything for -- had created a lie so egregious and spouted it back to her own mother.

She demands to know why he would do such a thing, and when he sputters out his thoughtless obedience to this strange family -- the one with the child treated like a king, and with all these dark secrets. After so long of telling her that she was his light when his family treated him like nothing, after telling her that she was his most important family now -- it’s a betrayal that she’d never expected from the man she loves.

The reality of her isolation comes down all at once. There is no one left she can talk to, there is no place she can go, and this child now represents something completely foreign to her. The only thing that was keeping her together was her husband’s assurances that the child was completely theirs -- but it’s not. This child belongs to the Sohmas, to some curse that her body housed and nurtured. The disgust that’s been building inside her body breaks like a dam and completely washes over Momiji.

She becomes inconsolable. She refuses to look at her son, and her husband becomes subject to fits of rage and anguish. He feels as though he’s completely lost her, and with the love of his life so indisposed, he feels just as alone.

Momiji’s father is the one who tells her about the option to wipe her memory. Not just in hopes of reeling back her sanity, but because he wants her to forget the lie he told. If she forgets that, maybe their marriage can go back to how it was. If she forgets that deep cut of betrayal, maybe she won’t look at him like he’s some misshapen stranger.

She agrees as quickly as she had when he proposed. Together they decide that forgetting Momiji will ultimately be for the best.

At first when she recovers, things seem to return back to normal. But there’s always a piece missing as the years go on. There’s always something not quite right. Momiji’s father is paranoid and nervous -- the presence of his wife is no longer a comfort, but a stressor. And sometimes, for the briefest moment, he’ll catch her staring at him. Her eyes far off and distant, like she’s completely lost in thought, and the expression that rests on her face will be one of fear. When she comes back to herself, it’s as if she hadn’t even noticed.

The zodiac mothers are told not to speak to her after her memory is erased, which suits most of them just fine (Haru’s mother took particular offense to the decision). Below is the relationship chart for pre-memory wipe:

Friends with: Kureno’s mom, Haru’s mom, Shigure’s mom, Ritsu’s mom

Doesn’t like: Yuki’s mom, Hatori’s mom

#Fruits Basket #Fruits Basket Headcanons #Zodiac Mom Headcanons #Momiji's mom #Momiji Sohma #at least I wrote something for this fandom again #been thinking about this woman a lot this week #she took as long as she did cause we have some much info on her though #I do my best work when I'm given bare scraps lmao

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dalekofchaos · 4 years ago

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Why Voldemort is a terrible villain and how I’d improve Voldemort as a villain

As much as I like Voldemort, when you look back on the books. Voldemort is a terrible villain. Yes he has the Horcruxes and has loyal followers...but that’s it. In this post I will be examining why Voldemort is a terrible villain in Harry Potter and how I would improve Voldemort as a villain.

Let’s look at Voldemort’s track record

No clear motivations. The movies do absolutely nothing to flesh out Voldemort, but that's understandable, they're the movies. But even in the books, there is no clear reason for Voldemort doing any of the things that he does. During the flashbacks in the Pensive, Tom is a disturbed child who has a tendency to torture animals, lure other children to creepy caves and steal stuff - all of this is bad, yes, but why? Why is Tom Riddle "evil"? I know the explanation that the canon somewhat provides: that Voldemort doesn't know love/friendship/connection because he was conceived under the trickery of a love potion, and his mother was abused But, even if you accept that explanation, that does not justify Tom Riddle being innately evil and monstrous. Why is he racist/supremacist? If he really is a natural genius with a detachment from human emotion, shouldn't he also be detached from things like blood supremacy, ancestry and mortality? Just because he's a sociopath doesn't mean he will automatically turn into Hitler.

Wages a Wizarding war, but couldn’t even conquer his own Wizarding Nation

He couldn’t become Minister Of Magic. Instead he dicked around in Borgins And Burkes and instead wanted to become Defense Against The Dark Arts Professor.....for reasons. He could’ve used his power as Minister Of Magic to gain followers, especially the fanatic pure blood families and the impressionable Slytherins and cover for his Horcrux murders. But nooo.

When Voldemort DOES take power by force during the second Wizarding War, he does barely anything with it. Voldemort owns the government and has an army of evil. Where does he plan to launch his attack on the world? At a god damn highschool. Yes I know he attacked Hogwarts because of the last Horcrux. Didn't need to get that far if he didn't act like the world's worst Bond villain and monologued for enough time to let Harry either escape or for the Deus ex machina to arrive on que. The first two times it happens, yeah I get it. You're a villain who is up himself, shit happens. But by book 5 when he is still doing dumb shit it's unforgivable. How hard is it to issue a kill on sight order to your hordes of evil? I mean FFS you have legit werewolves on your side, who can sniff out a drop of blood miles away and yet you do nothing with them? Not only do you fail to kill a defenseless baby but you can't evil kill the kid when he's locked up in your second in commands basement.

He isn't particularly charismatic or a decent leader. He does have tons of followers, for reasons. Seriously, except for fear and opportunism I can't understand why anybody would want to fight for him. I mean, I get that he is basically magic!Hitler, but actual Hitler could at least hold speeches. Actual Hitler had arguments why his rule would be good for the German people. Voldemort doesn't. Voldemort treats his followers like shit and tortures or kills them if they aren't useful any more.

He didn't do his homework and doesn't knows the magic lore good enough. He manages to kill himself two times because of lore he really should have known about. The first time he fails to see the magic love-charm, the second time he doesn't recognizes the arcane rules of wand ownership. Those are stupid, avoidable mistakes for somebody that is supposed to be the greatest dark mage of his time.

He isn't even a particularly good mage. He manages to get statemaled by Harry and defeated by Dumbledore. He never does anything truly remarkable with magic that we haven't seen other characters do the same or better (the cave in book six is pretty good, but that's already has best showing). All we see is “AVADA KEDAVA.” Cool, I’ve seen every damn villain use that stupid fucking spell and yes it is a terrible spell.

His plans are... well, they are shit. If your plans get permanently foiled by a bunch of meddeling kids, you should think about retirement, not world domination. The plan in "Goblet of fire" only works out because of dumb luck. "Orden of phoenix" works out because of Harrys incompetence. The plan to kill Dumbledore only worked cause Voldemort used logic and had one of his followers do the work for him. The rest of his plans fail gloriously.

Voldemort's goals. He... wants to be immortal, but why? Because he's afraid of death? Why is he afraid of death? He literally spent his childhood cutting open rabbits. He excelled in all fields of academia and is arguably very intelligent; intelligence tends to negate superstition. Okay, fine; let's assume he's afraid of death. But even if we look for another explanation: maybe he wants to live forever in order to stay in power.

Voldemort wants power...Why does he want power? Why does he want to, quite literally, take over the world? It makes no sense. He has no reason to care about any of that. Even if he's prejudiced against Muggles, what exactly gives him the willpower to actually gather followers, build a legion of darkdoom evil squad and kill everyone? His motivations are never explained, and he is introduced to the story as a 2-dimensional "bad guy". Even from the 4th book onward, Voldemort is never actually fleshed out. He simply goes from bad guy to "extremely bad guy/"super fucking evil". It's shallow. It's a bad character. He isn't even a character. He has no depth, nuance, relatability or layers to him. He's just a textbook douchebag who exists simply to give the protagonists something to do, because otherwise the stories would just be about magic school.

Let's look at the closest and most obvious reflection: Adolf Hitler. It's painfully obvious that Voldemort's movement is based on Nazism. But if you read Mein Kampf, Hitler actually believed what he was doing was justified, and provided reasons for it which he thought made sense. Even if it was objectively flawed, he believed it. That's what makes a good character in fiction; even if they're actually batshit fucking insane and critically evil, you can make them relatable if you go inside their head and show the audience why they're doing what they're doing. Even if the audience doesn't agree with the character, the audience understands why the character thinks this way. Unlike Hitler's diary, Voldemort has no level of self-introspection, no actual justifications. He's a walking plot device, and that's ridiculously bad for a 7-book-long story where he's the main antagonist. I don't remember a single interaction, scene or exchange where Voldemort is shown to have any degree of self-awareness. The youngest we ever see him is when Dumbledore visits him in the orphanage, and by that point he's already evil as balls, for seemingly no reason. Even when Harry is talking to him in their final fight, Voldemort only hisses and spits out superficial threats and a shallow understanding of the events around him, and actually has no idea who he is, or why he's doing what he does. . If he were a realistic character, this lack of self-awareness would build up over time, would create self-doubt in him, and he would go through a character arc where he "found himself" and learned what he really wanted. And then, maybe he comes back and does some crazy shit, but this time he does them with glorious conviction, and has no shame in admitting it. The audience knows him now, and he's a great villain. But that's not what we got. Remember the 13-odd years Voldemort spent floating around like a puff of gas, possessing rats and squatting in Quirrel's turban? Why did his character not develop? HE HAD THIRTEEN FUCKING YEARS TO REFLECT ON HIMSELF. He literally had nothing else to do. He could've become such a complex character. Think about it: a bland, textbook villain gets cucked into infinity and now can't actually do anything but bide his time. It would clearly affect his personality, especially if it lasts 13 goddamn years. But when Voldemort is revived in book 4, he's still just "look how evil I am.exe". He had literally no character arc of any kind. That's actually impossible. No sentient human being can have the same personality, goals and motivations after over a decade of exile. He's a badly-written villain, plain and simple.

It seems like a very poor decision to make the antagonist of 7 thick books this unrelatable and bland. It also makes no sense because Rowling has written consistently excellent characters throughout the series. Why not make Voldemort a real character?

So here is how I would improve Voldemort as a villain

Motivation. So since it's universally accepted that Salazar was against Muggleorns because he grew up in a time where Wizards and Witches were being burned at the stake. What if Voldemort had similar intentions cause he grew up in a time during WWII and the Cold War and saw how powerful and dangerous the Muggles were becoming with their nuclear weapons and wanted to protect magic kind from the Muggles and viewed the Muggles invading a possibility. So he became Lord Voldemort and formed the Death Eaters to finish Salazar Slytherin’s work to protect magic kind against Muggles and Muggleborns. It could’ve started out as noble, but turned racist and evil in the end.

As Tom Riddle, he becomes the Minister Of Magic or given a position of power secondary to the Minister Of Magic. The Lord Of Magic. It’s important that prior to becoming Lord Voldemort, he should hold a position of political power within the Ministry Of Magic. In Hogwarts, it is said as a student Tom was charismatic, charming and a wolf in sheep’s clothing. So why not use all that for politics? He could use his charm and political power to turn the Ministry Of Magic against the Muggleborns and against the Muggles. He would write a book explaining in detail why he believes in what he believes and that gives him the following he needs. The Book in question would be called “Magic Is Might!” The old Pure Blood magical families and impressionable young Slytherins would follow him like moths to a flame. He could use his newfound political power to research all forms of magic and even the dark arts. He could make Horcruxes in secret. As Voldemort he would gather allies who were rejected by society like Werewolves and Giants. But despite what the Horcruxes do to his face, he could use magic to keep up appearances. He wouldn’t just be seeking to wage war with the muggles and muggleborns. First Voldemort has to take over the Wizarding world.

Treats his followers like allies. Voldemort does not use fear and the threat of death and torture on his most trusted allies. Tom Riddle’s the Knights of Walpurgis hold key positions in Tom Riddle’s administration and then the Death Eaters are born and Voldemort treats them with respect and admiration. In a sense, he treats the Death Eaters like family.

The First WIzarding War should have been about Voldemort waging war on the other Wizarding nations. This would truly show how terrifying and powerful Voldemort really is. Would also explain why the other nations did not interfere in the second war, cause they were that terrified of Voldemort. The Order Of Phoenix was barely able to win and drive Voldemort from power.

Voldemort’s fall was because he was desperate. He was ousted from power and Dumbledore, the OOTP and Aurors are on his trail. His body is failing him, so he desperately needs to create a new Horcrux. So he kills The Potters. He fully knew that Lily used the love charm to shield Harry from him. So He saw a way out. Voldemort purposefully destroyed himself so he could gain a new Horcrux.

Plus, we can have Voldemort hide the Horcruxes in the nations he conquered. So Voldemort can hide them in -Russia -Germany -America -Hogwarts -France Obviously Nagini would be by his side at all times and well Harry is the last one. For context of how Voldemort conquered these nations. Imperio, subterfuge, and mass hysteria. He took out the Wizarding governments and implanted them with his thrawls.

Make Voldemort as hated as Umbridge. Here’s how.

In my hypothetical scenario where Voldemort hides the Horcruxes in different Wizarding Nations, make 8 books. Book 7 ends with everyone graduating from Hogwarts and the fall of the Ministry.

This way, after graduation, the Ministry has fallen and it ends with the Big Seven on the run. In Book 8 they are all on the hunt for the Horcruxes. Not just for Horcruxes, but international allies to unite the Wizarding world against Voldemort. It ends with the final confrontation being at the Ministry. Voldemort's endgame plan is not just to wipe out the Muggleborns, but wiping out the Muggles. He has the Magic equivalent to a Nuclear bomb. Voldemort wants to destroy the Muggles and recreate the world in his image. Magic Is Might! He plans on using it and Harry has to stop him before it's too late

Voldemort fails because the Horcruxes are failing him. It isn’t immortality, it is only temporarily longevity and every time one of his Horcruxes gets destroyed, his body breaks down and his soul is in an even worse shape. When Nagini is destroyed, it is over. Voldemort thinks if he can kill Harry, he will live forever as the prophecy states “only one can live forever.” so he believes if he could just kill Harry, he can win. But Harry deflects his curses and sends it right back at him. Voldemort dies as he did in the book. Powerless, alone and human.

#Harry Potter #Lord Voldemort #Tom Marvolo Riddle #Anti JK Rowling

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chaoticneutralwriter · 4 years ago

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Fourth Act: Kindness

Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. - Galatians 6:2

guardian demon!jimin x reader

genre: fluff, romance, supernatural, angst, comedy, slow-burn

word count: 8.9k

Related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!jimin

Continuation of Third Act: Patience

A/N: WELL WELL WELL, we’ve found ourselves four acts deep and only three more to go. That much closer for our favourite demon boy to completing his goal right? 🤐🤐 Sorry it took so long as per usual T.T a lot has been going on but nevertheless, I’m still so grateful to all of your patience and love for the series so far! I hope you enjoy this chapter too! Time to ramp things up again after this LOL Oh! Also to note, the switch between names is intentional (you’ll see what I mean). As always, I hope you’re all taking care of yourself.

@cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatina @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae @awkwardwookie @aduky @poisonseashell @shortannoyingginger @caramelmac-chiato @sana-b @jiminstinct @beautifulparisiangirl @taelieninvader @ggukjitaejin @xakemi-chiix @vantaenims @atulipandarose

When you had woken up the next day, you were definitely a lot more relaxed, like the initial fear of having to confront the person who makes your body react involuntarily in funny ways has worn off. You’d laid in bed, taking the time to reflect on last night’s conversation and came to the conclusion that, no matter how short it was, you could’ve done worse. Granted, you had the safety net of talking to Jimin only through text message but baby steps! You just need to do a little readjusting, rearrange the new cards you’ve been dealt with so to speak. Even though you see your guardian demon in a more romantic way now, the last thing you wanted was for it to get out of control and potentially ruin the friendship you have with him.

You’d say you had a pretty good handle on that because much like last night, Jimin continues to text you every so other day. Most of the time, he asks about your well-being, of which you reply with your usual casualness (well, not like much goes on anyways). Then there are times where you and him have actual conversations. You don’t know how they start but whenever they do, it’s like coming home from a long day at work to discover that there was actually a tub of your favourite ice cream in the freezer all along — something to brighten the dull monotony of your life, a small sweetness for you to enjoy. You easily get lost in talking with him; the playful banter, the gibes, the jokes, even when the topics are meaningless, you find yourself grinning and giggling until your cheeks ache. Everything was still so natural and you’re proud to say, you’ve only slipped up twice! (The first time it was about his hair colour and you had mentioned black is probably your favourite look on him, the second was when you had mindlessly asked if he was ever going to stop by any time soon to visit because well—! It’s been a while right? Not like you miss him…that much.)

“Whatchu grinning at?”

The voice calling out to you makes you abruptly shoot your head up from being buried in your phone, eyes meeting Jaehee’s from across the table. She’s got a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a slight quirk to her eyebrows, that’s enough for you to know that she’s caught you red-handed in one of your giddier moments. Cheeks flushing, you clear your throat and swiftly send a text back before placing the phone down on the table again, screen blackened to hide from the curious gaze prodding at you.

“Just…A meme my friends sent me…” You lie, stuffing a spoonful of fried rice into your mouth. Jaehee lets out a huff at your answer, shoulders sagging and an unimpressed look taking over her face in replacement.

“Uh huh? Just a meme?” Jaehee sounds wholly unconvinced, punctuated when she also adds, “You’re not doing the face that goes with it.”

“What face?”

“The one where you go like this.”

She demonstrates by squishing back her neck until there’s a slight double chin and then curls her lips into a dopey looking smile while staring down at her own phone. The sight makes you snort unattractively, followed by a short guffaw that has you covering your mouth. Jaehee joins in laughing with you.

“I thought that’s the face I always make no matter what I’m looking at.” You defend.

“Nah, you practically had heart eyes just now, and you got like this Disney princess smile on.” Jaehee counters, leaning her elbows onto the table. “So, is it Julien or is it Julien?”

“What makes you so confident it’s Julien?” You ask with an incredulous laugh.

“So it’s not Julien? Cuz if it’s not I would actually be very disappointed.”

That earns a light scoff from you, like as if you even have enough interest to pursue someone else, let alone the capabilities to try to reel them in, “Well, no, as if—“

“So Julien—“

“Jaehee!” You exclaim, feeling particularly bashful at being called out so suddenly — since when did you have a look when you’re texting someone? Does it show that much? “Why, what would you say if it was him?”

Your roommate grins slyly in a very Cheshire Cat manner and you swear she’s radiating an aura of excitement, wiggling in her seat as she asks, “Are you guys finally a thing?”

Your eyebrows furrow, almost in disbelief; at what you’re not even sure yourself but it leaves you feeling a little crestfallen. “I— no we’re not really a thing. I mean….” You cut yourself off, not sure where you want to go with this or if you’re even ready to have that talk yet so you sigh out, “It’s complicated.”

It might sound like a dumb reason to others, but you’d rather not involve your most trusted friend into something you’re still unsure about. You don’t want to make a mountain out of a molehill — get her invested in your boy troubles when she’s probably dealing with much more important life problems. At the admission, Jaehee’s playful grin slips and she tilts her head, puzzled. “Oh, really? I thought you guys were since….”

She trails off but you don’t need her to finish to know what she was implying. You let out a sigh again, shrugging and going back to spooning more rice on your plate in an attempt to brush it off.

“I don’t know…. I just— I’m still trying to work it out I guess.”

Jaehee watches you silently for a moment, taking in your dampened mood with concern before she settles back into her seat. “Damn, well if you need someone to vent then I’m here for you.” Pausing, she adds on with a small smile, “You know I’m always rooting for you.”

You can’t help but smile in return at her unwavering support. “Thanks Jaehee.”

Dinner passes on in companionable silence. Your years of friendship and living together have proven that you’re both in tune with each other; knowing and respecting each other’s boundaries as well as readily give support without having to say anything. It’s something you’re grateful for when it comes to Jaehee and is especially comforting because at least you know that the only pressure you’d be feeling is from yourself.

And that’s how you find yourself, staring aimlessly at your ceiling while lying in bed, deep in thought. The conversation with Jaehee, although it was brief, brought to light that, contrary to your beliefs, you’ve actually sunken yourself deeper into the rabbit hole. You’re no longer in that safe zone where if worse comes to worse, you’d be able to handle swallowing your feelings for your guardian demon and, maybe after a few days of sulking, would be able to accept that it was never meant to be. It’d hurt but you think it would at least hurt less; you’d be able to cope with it.

But before you realized it, your feelings have only grown and solidified from all the times you’ve texted that they have nowhere to go but out. You actually think if Jimin were to tell you he’s leaving the next day right now, you would have a bit of a mental and emotional breakdown.

So much for having a handle on things.

You bring your hands up to rub your face, letting out a little groan to yourself. As if sensing your distress, your phone comes to life with a buzz and a chime. It would’ve been a welcoming distraction had it not been a message from the very person who’s already occupying a huge chunk of your thoughts. So does it mean that you’re going to ignore it in favour of trying to get some peace?

“Did you have a good dinner?”

You’re typing out a response and hitting send because who were you kidding?

“I did! Good ol’ fried rice :)”

“…was it one of those days?”

“Hey! I enjoy eating fried rice once in a while >:( AND fyi, I had a sunny-side up egg on top so it’s not all as bad as it sounds.”

“Oh, how fancy of you~ “

(You roll your eyes as if he's saying it right in front of you).

“Okay chill out Mr. Bougie, I don’t need your judgment here.

I’m a simple woman.

I will eat anything as long as it’s edible.”

“Easy to please huh?

I quite like to see that for myself.”

You had to put your phone down for a hot second because you’re short circuiting. Why did your thoughts go that way? Did you ask for it to go that way? On second thought, maybe it’s you who needs to chill out.

A buzz catches your attention again and against your frantically beating heart and heated face, you go to check the message.  

“Are you in bed now?” 

You actually take a deep breath in and release it, trying to get your nerves under control but even so, the tips of your fingers still feel too jittery as you type.

“Yeah, just getting comfortable.”

“Good, you should get some sleep.

It worries me sometimes how late you stay up.

Makes me think you’re secretly a vampire or something.”

A snort leaves you and you shake your head at his accusations as you reply back almost instantly.

“I can’t help if I’m a night owl okay? And what would you do if I was a vampire? :O”

“Hmm….

Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

Maybe it’s because you’re so lost in conversations with him that something takes over, suddenly having the urge to get a rile out of him like the way he’s so good at doing with you that before you know it, you’re goading him on.

“Why? Would you nail me with a stake?”

Exhilaration courses through you, heart beat pounding against your chest like a beating drum as you wait. To your surprise, there’s a lull in the time he responds and it makes you preen a little, thinking for once you’ve managed to push his buttons instead of it being the other way around. It makes you anticipate his answer even more. Finally after a few minutes, a new text pops up. The words make you choke on air and you barely manage to smother the sounds of your loud coughs.

“I’d do more than just nail you with a stake darling.”

Once you’ve regained your breath, your face is absolutely on fire and your mind reeling. How do you even respond to that? Actually, you don’t even think you can — you’re here trying to one up a demon in his own game and all it got you was your foot in your mouth. You shouldn’t have expected anything less. As you’re panicking about where to even begin trying to play this entire thing off, a new message comes through.

“Like telling you that you should go to sleep or else you’ll actually start looking like the undead.

Sweet dreams, cherub. I’ll talk to you some other time.”

You wish him a good night in return, still very much in a daze at what just happened. Your hand flops back against your mattress and you just… lay there; no thoughts, head empty. Well, maybe one thought.

You really got it bad for him.

The streets of downtown are busy for a weekday, bustling with people who have places to go and others to see but considering the time, it’s not at all surprising. It’s approximately half past twelve in the afternoon, the general time where many who work in the office would be taking their lunches and with the convenience of the downtown area, many prefer to simply eat out. Whether it’s grabbing a quick bite or sitting down and enjoying a full service in the company of their co-workers, there’s a place that caters to everyone’s needs. It’s a time where everyone is eager to be relieved from their busy schedules and being cooped up in a cubicle for five hours straight before having to go back and push through the remaining hours of their workday.

It’s a very clockwork thing, something Jaehee knows all too well because she’s among the masses that’s a part of it yet as she watches her peers from her window seat in the cafe, she feels like the stranger looking from the outside in.

Almost three years ago, Jaehee had been like any other graduate fresh out of college; bright-eyed and ready to start their life as an ‘adult’ which meant getting a ‘real’ job. She had been so determined, vowed that gone were the days of being stuck with a minimum wage and she’s finally going to put her schooling to use. Of course, it wasn’t easy, half of the battle was just the interviews alone but over time, they start to affect her (as any normal person who’s been rejected over twenty times would, and in the form of ghosting no less).

So naturally when she had gone into that interview for a junior position in a rather small business, expecting no less only to get an offer? That was the olive branch Jaehee had been searching for in a metaphorical sea of pine trees. She accepted it without any further questions asked, the prospect of her first ‘real’ job overruling any doubts she would have had. A rookie mistake on her part, one that only really started to show once she was already in too deep.

At first, it was the small things; things that might’ve gotten under her skin at the time but very easily, Jaehee could push aside without thinking much of it again. After all, not like she expects this place to be perfect right off the bat. As long as they upheld proper HR codes, Jaehee didn’t mind that this was her humble beginnings. She had the mindset to work hard at her job, build her experience and then if things didn’t work out here, she’ll find somewhere else. So that’s what she did, she rolled with the punches every time and before she knew it, a year had passed.

But as time went on, more and more things came up; how the jobs she’s been tasked to hire candidates for always end up having little to no benefits in the long run, how because of that, they never stay for more than half a month at a time, how the inappropriate behaviour of some employees fly under the radar because it’s considered ‘not serious enough’ to be addressed, and how despite having worked for the company for years, her co-worker was never given a single pay raise no matter how well she did her job. It all made her uneasy.

Soon, telling herself to stick it out for just another year became harder that it quickly changed to just another month until here she is now, barely scraping it to three years and reduced to holding onto the single thread that’s still keeping her here — money, and even that is starting to wear thin.

As much as she hated to admit it, Jaehee has found herself trapped between a rock and hard place and she’s at a complete lost on what to do. The heavy sigh she releases felt more like it tore through her entire being, head slumping against the glass; maybe she should’ve hit up a bar rather than a cafe because she really could use a drink right now, happy hour times be damned.

Just as Jaehee considers going through with the idea, eyes scanning across the street to see if there were actually any bars or pubs close by, her gaze lands on an unexpected figure. At first, she didn’t think it was him, already hard to tell because of the black surgical mask he wore covering the lower half of his face while a pair of shades cover his eyes but the longer she watched him, the more sure she was; if there was one thing that stuck with Jaehee amongst the few times she’s met him, it was that he had an aura — he was one of those people you just knew looked attractive even from behind, which makes it all the more curious for Jaehee to see him about to walk into the same cafe she’s currently sitting in.

She watches as he comes to stand in the queue, head bowed and more focused on the phone in his hand while the other was stuffed into the pocket of his fitted dark wash jeans. Such an understated gesture but already out of the corner of Jaehee’s eye, she catches some customers looking his way with interest. The sight makes her stifle her chuckle; thoroughly amused at seeing what she had deducted earlier first hand. It’s only after he turns to head towards the self-serving counter, a medium sized coffee cup in his hand, does Jaehee think there might be a chance he’ll notice her and as if feeling a particularly steady pair of eyes on him, she sees his chin raise slightly more towards her direction.

So, with a slight wave of her hand and a smile, Jaehee makes herself known officially to the taller male, his name slipping out in a bright greeting, “Julien!”

She sees him momentarily pause, then tilt his head before he nods in acknowledgement, casually grabbing a sleeve and a lid for his cup. Once he does, he begins to stride toward Jaehee’s table, stopping short just beside the unoccupied seat across from her.

“Didn’t expect to run into you here.” He says in a light drawl as he pulls down his mask to sip at his coffee. What luck.

“I found this place to have the best coffee around my office.”

“Oh, so you work around here?” Julien sounds genuinely surprised, even takes a brief glance out onto the streets before seemingly coming to accept that possibility. “On lunch then?”

Jaehee can’t help the wry smile that makes its way onto her lightly tinted lips, shoulders heaving and the reply she gives leaves her in the form of a tired sigh. “Yeah….For now.”

At this close distance now, Jaehee can see Julien’s eyes faintly through the tinted colours of his shades, how they seem to observe her over the white rim of the coffee cup he has gingerly grazing his slightly parted plump lips, mid-drink.

One sweep of her form tells all he needs to know, so used to picking up the signs of a troubled human — a skill he’s honed over the many years of living to easier prey and exploit the vulnerable into falling victim to his dark temptations. But he’s not here to lead her astray (he thinks he’d have his head chopped off before that, courtesy of one particular gremlin he knew and adore). Besides that, he may or may not have a favour to ask of Jaehee.

“Well, you sure sound eager to get back to work.” He chuckles sarcastically. Jaehee lets out a quiet huff of air through her nose, crossing her arms as she further slumps into her seat.

“I have yet to honestly meet a person who actually likes going to work.” She mumbles sardonically, making the corner of his mouth twitch. Julien takes the opportunity to slide into the seat finally, tilting his head inquisitively in a way that reminds Jaehee of a puppy….or a cat…. Puppy-cat.

“You sound especially loathsome to go back.” Julien starts casually, placing his coffee cup down in front of him and after tapping his ring clad fingers against it, he continues with a sly smirk, “Smells like tea to me.”

Jaehee laughs, shaking her head as she also takes the time to sip more from her own cup. “Well, no! I mean…” Her voice trails off and her smile falters a little, like the gravity of the situation is settling in on her and there’s really no hope in trying to deflect with humour. Jimin waits patiently, watching the conflicting emotions flit through Jaehee’s expressions and to coax her into deluging more on what’s been bothering her, he smiles reassuringly.

“I’m all ears.”

She pauses to regard him for a moment and seeing his openly friendliness makes the last of her resolve crumble. How lucky you are that you managed to snag a catch like Julien; now she swears if you two don’t end up together then maybe romance is actually dead.

Pulling out from her thoughts, Jaehee brushes aside some loose strands of hair before she rests her chin in her hand, looking out the window to see a group of office workers enjoying the patio weather in the restaurant across the street, throwing their head back in boisterous laughter. She feels envious. With one last sigh, she speaks.

“Work…has been getting unbearable, to say the least and I don’t know how much more I can take.”

Julien hums. “Overbearing manager?”

“It’s everything really; most of the people there, the environment, the job itself…. It all just piled up and now every time I go to work it’s soul draining. I feel so anxious and…uncomfortable. All the time.”

“Have you…tried bringing those issues up with your reporting manager?”

Another heavy sigh leaves Jaehee, shaking her head. “I tried once or twice but they either brush it off or do the bare minimum to fix it. It doesn’t last long usually.”

Julien leans back against his chair, languidly folding his legs so that his ankle rests on the top of one knee. It makes for an impressive view of his insane body proportions that Jaehee still can’t believe can exist on a person; the long sleeve, dark grey and black knit tee is half tucked into his pants, giving a peek of his cinched waistline while legs that seem to extend endlessly, streamlined to a pair of black Chelsea boots. She swears Julien isn’t the tallest male she’s encountered (her own boyfriend Jason might actually be a head taller than he is) but somehow, sitting like this, you would think this man is actually seventy percent legs.

“Why don’t you quit then? You don’t sound happy being there anyways.”

His blunt suggestion takes her aback that for a moment she thinks he’s joking but he remains unfazed, completely serious. It’s a pretty obvious thing to do Jimin thinks, yet Jaehee is here looking at him as if he just told her to launch herself into space to escape from her problems. Times like these he’s reminded of how sometimes humans aren’t always so sensible. After the words have sunk in, Jaehee begins to piece together her thoughts.

“That’s…. Yeah that’s a given huh? But I just— I don’t know Julien.” The last few words come out in a sort of defeated whine, the same time Jaehee nearly slumps her head entirely onto the table in front of her and Jimin subtly takes his coffee cup to hold in the safety of his lap instead. “I want to, god I want to. At some point I even tried looking at other places and submitting resumes but I never get replies back and this place, as shitty as it is, has decent pay. If I leave… I don’t know what that would mean for me and Y/N — especially Y/N.”

Jimin sits up a little straighter at the mention of you.

“She’s still in school and also working too. I don’t want to add onto her stress load by putting ourselves in a financially tough place.” Jaehee buries her hands into her hair, mussing up the long locks into disarray with quite frankly the most severe, pinched expression of trouble Jimin has ever seen on someone. It ages her almost ten years before his eyes. He won’t lie, this isn’t exactly the kind of woes he thought he would be hearing from your roommate. Originally, he had planned to entertain her for a bit, slip in that favour he has and then be on his way. But seeing and hearing the extent of her problems now, he can’t help feeling a little sympathetic because in spite of the amount of distress it’s causing your roommate, she still thinks of you, even going as far as to consider bearing with it.

Though he might not know her well, it’s clear to Jimin that she cares about you a lot.

“Does Y/N know about what’s been happening with your workplace?” He asks carefully. Jaehee blinks before her cheeks begin to colour lightly in embarrassment and she ducks her head to try and hide it, as if just realizing how much of a mess she’s become in front of someone who she’s supposed to be keeping up good impressions for. She clears her throat awkwardly, moving to smooth out her hair again by combing through the strands and bringing her hands down to rest on the nape of her neck.

“Yeah…I’ve vented to her a couple of times about it, when things got too stressful so I think she has a good idea of what’s going on.”

“And…has she ever suggested you to quit and find a new place to work?”

Jaehee pauses in thought and then shakes her head. “Not outright I don’t think. She’s always hinted at it but she never pushes me.”

Jimin makes a noncommittal noise, smiling a little to himself — that sure sounds like you; considerate maybe even to a fault, which is why the next thought that comes to mind makes him feel disquieted.

The sudden silence from the male has her finally looking up to see what the cause of it was, only to find him looking rather bothered, deep in thought with brows pinched and a slight frown tugging down the corner of his lips. It makes her retrace her words, wondering if she had said something wrong and just as she goes to ask, he speaks up.

“Listen Jaehee, I might not…know Y/N well enough,” He starts, mindful of his wording, “but I’m confident that I know, and you know, Y/N really cares for you as much as you care for her, which is probably why she doesn’t want to push you to make a really big life changing decision. And that’s just the thing….”

He inclines his head, his attention suddenly focused on Jaehee and the weight of his gaze pierces through even the tint of his sunglasses. It has Jaehee straightening upright in her seat, involuntarily bracing herself from something she’s not quite sure of.  “She cares about you — your happiness matters to her more than some shitty job that pays well.”

Again, Jaehee is shocked into a stupor for the second time today by this man, his frankness so unapologetic but also from the amount of conviction he speaks concerning you. It was….highly endearing and she had to catch herself from grinning, choosing instead to stow away this little tidbit of information (that she may or may not share to you later). But more than that, Jaehee could swear that he even sounded the slightest bit defensive?

“So even if you quit now, I highly doubt Y/N would hold it against you.” Julien says, and in a much softer undertone that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jaehee, “She’s not the type of person to do that.”

She feels strangely touched, so much that all she can do is blink, speechless. When words fail to form, Jaehee lets out a quiet, breathy laugh, choosing to resign to the fact of the matter; Julien is right about pretty much everything and she expresses as much.

“You’re right, she definitely wouldn’t do that. I guess I’m just…scared?” Jaehee wrings her fingers anxiously. “The guilt would eat me up if things go bad for us, all because I quit my job.”

She hears him hum and as she looks up towards him, he’s nodding. “That’s pretty understanding, but is staying and sacrificing yourself really going to be worth it? Gambling with your well-being isn’t something you should take so lightly.” He shifts in his seat and continues in a gentler tone, “You have the right to think about it and come to your own decision, I can’t stop you from doing that. For what it’s worth though, you deserve better and you’re surrounded by a lot of people who wouldn’t hesitate to help you.” There’s a brief pause where he seems to catch himself, then as if making up his mind however, he mumbles, “Including me.”

Jaehee can’t help her eyes widening a bit at the declaration and she nearly breaks out into a full on grin when she sees that the dark haired male in front of her has turned his attention to the window, raising his cup to sip on his coffee in what would’ve passed as a nonchalant manner if it weren’t for the slight pink colouring creeping up his neck or the way he refuses to meet her eyes anymore. For his sake, she discreetly bites her lip to manage the urge to an appreciative smile.

“Thanks Julien, for everything. I didn’t mean to unload all of my problems onto you like that but you’ve helped me see a clearer picture on everything.”

Julien shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “It’s nothing really, though you should probably sit down and tell Y/N all of this instead of me.”

Jaehee nods humming in agreement, already feeling lighter than she had been when she first sat down in this cafe. It’s made her change her perspective into a positive one, one where she doesn’t feel so trapped about her situation. So when she notices the growing number of office patrons dwindling and leaving from their respective lunch gatherings, she’s not as anxious at the prospect of going back. As if on cue, the man across from her takes a glance down at his watch (an elegant little thing; the black leather strap standing out against a pale wrist looked so flattering that Jaehee thought idly about maybe gifting Jason the same style and how nice it would look on him too…..until she balks with the realization that it was Chanel and the idea was immediately discarded).

“Looks like you’re due to head back.” Jimin remarks, noting the time before glancing up at Jaehee. She blinks, as if snapping out of a daze and it makes him quirk an eyebrow but then brushes it off; she must still be digesting everything that happened.

“A-Ah yeah…I should probably head back…soon…” He nearly snorts at the way your roommate is obviously stalling for time, not that he would blame her now that he knows what’s been going on. But with it, he thinks now is as good a time as any.

“Hey, before you go,” He starts smoothly to catch Jaehee’s attention. She perks up, inclining her head to him. “You think you can do me a small favour?”

Jimin’s not entirely surprised to see Jaehee nod expectantly, eager to accept without even hearing him out first. Oh well, makes his job a whole lot easier.

“Yeah what’s up?”

“This might sound a little strange but can you make sure Y/N…doesn't go off and do something she might regret?” He asks, trying to be as vague yet convincing as he can because if he wants to put his plan into action, Jimin can’t have you possibly seeking him out once you become too suspicious of his absent and blatant excuses on why he can’t come by. It would needlessly put you in very dangerous situations but with the help of Jaehee, he could prevent it or at the very least, stall until he’s able to pull himself together more. Even in this moment, he’s beginning to feel pinprick needles crawl up the back of his neck, the effort to keep a cool facade has him taking deep, steadying breaths. He sees Jaehee’s expression scrunch up in confusion, blinking and he doesn’t need to hear her question when it’s so clear on her face.

“I might be gone for a while, nothing too concerning so I don’t want her to worry.”

“I still don’t understand why you can’t tell her that yourself?” Jaehee points out, still very much confused as she crosses her arms. Jimin responds with a well placed wry smile, one he hopes doesn’t look more like a grimace than anything though he can’t help but feel that’s the case. It doesn’t matter, the discomforting and all too familiar stabbing has spread past his shoulder blades, making his skin break out into cold sweat. He gets up, ready to take his leave before he unwillingly keels over, the action startling Jaehee.

“It’s…It’s complicated Jaehee. Sorry I can’t tell you more but I promise it’s nothing serious. Just…” Jimin hates how out of breath he sounds, swallowing as he rushes to get everything out. “Take care of her?”

So caught off guard by his sudden sense of urgency, Jaehee stutters, “Y-Yeah of course. Julien are you sure everything’s okay? You don’t— ” She stands, about to take a step towards the taller male but he immediately retreats back and she halts.

“I’m fine Jaehee. I have to leave now, I hope to see you around.”

Julien takes off before she has the time to think of something else to say, long strides easily carrying him out of the cafe and disappearing down the side street.

Jaehee’s frozen, eyebrows remaining furrowed and mind racing in trying to process what’s taken over Julien just now. Furthermore, she starts to realize that maybe the growing clamminess of his complexion she saw earlier wasn’t a trick of the light after all. Now she’s confused and worried. What was he trying to hide? Unfortunately she doesn’t have time to linger on it, a quick glance at her phone lets her know that she’s already running five minutes late so with no other choice, she exhales heavily, squaring her shoulders and prepares to trek back to her hell hole of an office with the hope that it will be for the last time.

You felt it coming; another yawn that threatens to tear your whole mouth open and you just barely manage to stifle it. You’ve lost count on how many times you’ve yawned within the hour, each time it leaves your eyes watery and you swear what little energy you had would be expelled along with it.

On most days, this wouldn’t be anything new. It was just your luck that you get scheduled with an opening shift so in combination with your already atrocious sleeping schedule, your usual perpetually tired state is doubled. However these days, there’s something else added into the mix.

Your restless nights have since been plagued with thoughts of one reoccurring demon, and not the kind that people would imagine — figments of your own imagination conjured up from the darkest recesses of the mind to torment you — no, you’re the one who has a literal demon tormenting your thoughts and the worse part is he’s probably not even aware of it!

Clearly, you’ve underestimated yourself, didn’t anticipate for the rug to be pulled out from under your feet so quickly like that. You thought you could make nice with being in a one-sided crush forever when in reality, you’ve crossed that point of no return already and now all you want to do is confess your feelings, rip that bandage off once and for all.

You want to, but….

You’re still scared deep down. What was the lesser evil? Confess and be rejected or refrain and live not knowing? Both sound like complete agony to you yet in the end, you lack the strength to do neither.

And what’s more pressing is that time is running out for you. Above your chaotic, never-ending dilemma, the reminder stays steadily in the back of your mind like ticking of a clock, muted at first, only now it’s louder and clearer than ever — your inevitable crocodile encroaching to devour the rest of you, the ever fearful Hook.

You need to make a decision and soon before it’s beyond your control.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t notice the end of your shift until your manager bumps into you, still in the aisle absentmindedly folding and refolding the t-shirts.  

“Girl, what are you still doing here? It’s like way past one-thirty, you need to leave!” Rachel laughs, nudging the shirts out of your hands.

“O-Oh, really?” You reply, a bit dazed but nevertheless, thankful. “I’ll see you next shift then.”

She waves and you scurry off, heading to the backroom to throw off your uniform vest, clock out and grab your things to leave. One good thing about having an early morning shift is at least you get to leave by afternoon and with the weather so nice lately, the trip back won’t add to dampen your mood.

For good measures, you even decide to stop by Starbucks to get yourself some well deserved ice coffee. The barista greeting you with a bright smile when you make it to the front counter.

“Hello, what can I get you for today?”

“Can I have a grande vanilla sweet cream cold brew?”

“For sure! Anything else?”

Your mouth opens to say that's all but then you stop, thinking to yourself briefly and then instead reply, “And one venti Very Berry Hibiscus Refresher.”

The barista nods, happy to punch in your additional order and that’s when you confirm then that that will be all. You move off to the side after you pay to wait for your drinks. You pull out your phone as you wait and absently wonder if you should text Jaehee about leaving her drink in the fridge when she gets home.

Lately, you’ve noticed Jaehee’s work schedule has become more sporadic than what you’re used to seeing; sometimes she’s home around three in the afternoon and other times you think she didn’t even go to work that day. Of the times she’s gone before you wake up, you find that she either has gone to work or was actually at Jason’s for the entire night. You don’t question it much, already getting the feeling that the cause is her troubles at work and she’s aware that you’re aware of it too, if the perplexed looks you shoot her whenever you see her on those occasions were anything to go by.

If this is Jaehee taking time off to simply get away and rest mentally, you’re not against it (in fact, you’re surprised that she hasn’t done so sooner). Regardless, you hope she’ll feel better and though it’s not much, you’ll lend her your ears and shoulder…..and maybe a large dose of her favourite drink.

Your name gets called and you go to collect your orders, then set off home. You arrive without further incident, enjoying the nice weather as you go. When you step through your door, you’re mildly surprised to find that your roommate in question isn’t home so you toe off your shoes and head to the kitchen to drop off her drink in the fridge.

After refreshing yourself by taking off your makeup and changing into more comfortable clothes, you decide to start prepping for dinner. Tonight’s menu is an amalgamation of things — you plan for chicken quesadilla with sour cream as the main dish but after spying a bag of frozen Korean dumplings and spicy rice cake, your stomach demands them to be served up as well. As they say, comfort food is always the best food.

You’ve just about finished grilling the last of the chicken breast and peppers to be used for the quesadilla when you hear the door unlock. Without having to check, you know it’s Jaehee and no sooner you turn towards the kitchen threshold, you see her trotting in.

“Hey.” She greets, doing little to conceal the tiredness in her voice and you offer a sympathetic smile.

“Hey, welcome home. You should go wash up and I’ll have the food ready when you’re done.”

Jaehee smiles gratefully at you before heading off in the direction of her room. You finish grilling up the remaining dumplings when Jaehee reappears again, bare faced and comfy like you are. As she seats herself at the small little table, you serve the quesadilla and dumplings first, letting the spicy rice cake simmer on low heat a little longer on the stove.

Looking at Jaehee now, you can’t help but to notice how worn she looks, dark bags beginning to form under her eyes even when she lets out a satisfied groan from taking her first bite.

“God I’ve been craving this all day.” She mumbles around a mouthful.

“You’re telling me.” You nod between chews. “As soon as I saw the bag of dumplings in the freezer, I had to make some. Same thing with the spicy rice cake, it’s been so long.”

“And that’s why we’re still roommates for so long.”

You laugh, agreeing wholeheartedly; your palette and overall love for food is what made your bond so strong, amongst other important things. You continue to eat in amicable silence, simply enjoying the food and each other’s company as part of unwinding for the day though a part of you itched to ask after Jaehee, to check in on how she’s really holding up. You only hold off for the time being to let her have her fill and forget about it, if just for a moment.

Eventually, by the time you’re both making quick work on the spicy rice cakes do you retrieve her little pick-me-up drink and wordlessly place it in front of her.

“Oh my god, girl.” She sighs out happily and you’ve never seen her light up so brightly in an instance. Your smiles matches hers as you take your seat again to pick at the remaining rice cakes.

“Knowing your workplace, you look like you could use it.”

After taking a hearty gulp, Jaehee places her drink down, a quiet pensive look taking over her expression. You can clearly see the thoughts swirling inside of her head, debating with herself but you wait patiently until she’s ready, if she’s ready. When you think the moment has passed, Jaehee finally speaks.

“Actually, I’m quitting.”

The shock of it still gets you even when you knew at some point this would happen. It was long overdue in your opinion, something you’ll admit you wished would happen because considering everything, you never understood how Jaehee had managed to put up with it for so long. You worried it would run her into the ground sooner than later and despite all the talks of leaving, they remain just that; talks. So over time, you choose to not push out of respect but remain firm in your beliefs.

Sitting up a little straighter, you swallow the chewy rice cake and nod approvingly. “Wow, for real? Like, you turned in your two weeks notice and everything?”

Jaehee breathes a laugh, sounding very much chagrined. “I think I did a little more than that.” At the inquisitive tilt of your head, she elaborates. “I sat down to talk to Ethan, my manager and I just…broke down and told him everything. Like, everything — how I felt about lying to candidates for a job that isn’t even worth leaving their current one for, how I don’t have even the basic benefits working for the company, and just feeling…awful coming into work every day.”

She inhales, “And then two days after that, he called me into his office and told me he was letting me go.”

Now that was shocking news to you. You blink incredulously, “After all that, he had the nerve to fire you? That just shows how much he cares.”

Jaehee can only nod, bemused herself but not entirely bothered. “Yeah, I mean I would be more mad about it if it wasn’t for the fact that I found out the company is literally a pyramid scheme.”

Your mouth drops without meaning to and you’re rendered speechless; definitely wasn’t expecting that. Jaehee lets a bark of laughter at your reaction.

“Yeah, exactly but it all makes sense now and it’s made me feel better about my choice. Now I’m just mad that I didn’t realize sooner.”

“Well I’m all the more glad for you.” You say, “Fuck that guy.”

Your remark earns you a half smile from Jaehee, one that is more morose than it is mirthful. It fades as quickly into something more serious, eyes downcast and fingers idly tracing the perspiration that’s gathered on her cup. “I’m happy I don’t have to work at that place anymore, but I don’t know what we’re gonna do about money from now on.”

She says it so sombrely that you might think she’s telling you the world is ending tomorrow. Okay, that might be a stretch but you do understand where Jaehee’s concerns are coming from. You’re not gonna lie and say Jaehee’s job didn’t play a huge role in helping you both pay rent and live well enough that you didn’t have to constantly worry about living from pay cheque to pay cheque. You’re lucky to be on a partial scholarship, but even then, you had close calls on paying rent on time. There’s a lot up in the air now, no doubt there’s gonna be a lot to change and though it’s worrisome, you find yourself not caring because more than anything, you’re happy for Jaehee and that’s something to worth celebrating instead.

“Yeah, we’re probably gonna have to do a lot adjusting once the time comes but really Jaehee, I’m just happy that you don’t have to work that awful job anymore.” You say, reassuring. “We can worry about all of that when it comes.”

Jaehee glances up then, staring at you as if searching for hints of a bravado but when she sees how genuine you are for her, she smiles and it reaches her eyes fully.

“You sure? Last chance.”

  “I’m positive. Hell, I’ll even put in a good word for you and who knows, we might end up working together.”

She’s snorts, shaking her head. “Thanks, I’ll consider it. At this point I think even a retail job would be so much better than what that was.” You purse your lips, considering the thought but agree in the end because as much as you loathed your job, at least there were moments where you could have fun with your co-workers; shit talking customers and managers is always a great way to pass time and bond.

You recline back in your seat as the atmosphere transitions into something lighter, like a weight has cleared the air and sip lightly at your ice coffee while Jaehee does the same with her drink. When she finishes it, she exhales, visibly more relaxed.

“So,” She begins, “what about you? Are you still talking with Julien?”

You blink, clearing your throat and scratch your cheek before answering distractedly, “Um…Yeah, like…on and off?”

Truth be told, the last message you sent to him was four nights ago. They were nothing special, just your usual chats as a way for you to talk about your day with sprinkles of bantering in between and maybe….a little flirting? Your head spins at the thought, butterflies erupting in your gut and even though these chats reduce you to a sputtering mess, they’re the things you look forward to the most at the end of the day. Which makes it worrying that you’ve noticed how they don’t last as long as they used to. You try not to let it bother you too much, thinking that perhaps it was just the insatiable craving for interactions that comes with realizing your feelings for someone.

And a hint of desperation in knowing that he may soon leave.

Maybe it’s the nature of the conversations that has taken place tonight or maybe you too needed to unload a bit off your chest, but you find yourself confessing your deepest worries too, finally speaking them into existence.

“Lately, I….I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.” You struggle, stopping to try and find the right words but you think you won’t have such luck. Swallowing, you power on through the best you can anyways. “I don’t know when it happened, hell I didn’t think it would even turn out this way. I thought all we could be is just friends but then….” You scoff a laugh at yourself, “I caught feelings, and now I don’t know what to do with them.”

Jaehee takes in your words across from you with a serious air though it doesn’t quite mask how ecstatic she is at the news. The sight makes you feel better, although you wished you could match her enthusiasm.

“Are you planning on telling him then?”

The sigh you let out nearly takes everything out of you and you slump against your chair, nearly sinking down to your waist.

“That’s the thing; I don’t know if I should? Like, am I reading too much into this? Or like, maybe he—“ It pains you to say it, voice coming out small but you can’t rule out the possibility, “Maybe he might not look at it the same way I do. I don’t want to ruin our friendship just because I misread everything. And what’s worse is that….He’s…going away soon so I just feel like….It might not be a smart idea after all but at the same time I just….” You inhale from running out of breath mid-rant, only to finish off with a helpless, “I really like him….”

God you must sound pathetic…

“Okay first off, I highly doubt that’s the case.” Jaehee jumps in with surprising speed. “From what I know, it doesn’t seem like it’s just you. I…I actually ran into him not too long ago during lunch at work…”

“You did?” You sit up at that, interested.

“Yeah, we sat down and I was feeling so overwhelmed that day that I ended up telling him about work too. He told me how I should pluck up the courage to quit because I deserve better and to be honest, one of the reasons why I didn’t want to to do it was because I was scared that it would put us in a tough spot, especially with you being in school and all. I didn’t want to pressure you with anything because of something that was on me. But he wouldn’t have any of it,” She lets out a quiet laugh with a shake of her head, recalling the conversation. “He said that it doesn’t matter because you’d support me all the way, that you care more about my happiness than some job that pays well.”

Jaehee shoots you a wide smile, taking one of your hand and giving it a squeeze. “And he was right. He didn’t have any doubts that you wouldn’t have my back and…he even offered to help out if things get bad for us when he didn’t need to. I don’t know about you but that just tells me how much he thinks and cares about you.”

“If I’m gonna be honest, aside from BTS, I’ve never seen you really feel for someone so strongly before, and that has to mean something. I can see how much you really care about him too. So I think you should tell him, maybe even more so before he leaves because I don’t want to see you regret not telling him instead. I know it's gonna eat you up.”

Now you’re the one overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions running through you at once; touched, assured, surprised to hear that Jimin had been the one to console Jaehee like that, and to hear first hand how supportive he is of her and you…

Something surges in your chest, the feeling almost leaving you breathless but you’re beginning to feel invigorated, more sure of yourself. It gives you hope, a dangerous thing but you want to so badly believe that there’s something there, something more.

“You…really think so?”

She gives you a pointed look, stare unwavering and that alone is more than enough. “One hundred percent, you never know until you try but I think he’s just as into you. And if by the off chance that I’m wrong…I’ll be there for you, whether to pig out on a carton of ice cream or to beat somebody up. I gotchu girl, like how you got me.”

You take a deep breath in, squeezing Jaehee’s hand back and her confidence rubs off on you. You let it take away whatever remaining doubts you have left. There's no excuse to back down now, or to run from it.

You’re gonna do it.

You have to do it.

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ibeatfor · 4 years ago

Text

evolution

3/24/21

I live by the mountains

And it wasn't even by design. It just so happened that this small little place within my budget was by the foothills of the Angeles National Forest.

It was not even a year ago when a picture of me and my then husband J was immortalized in the local newspaper as we stood arm in arm watching the fire fighting being conducted on the fire raging in our "backyard".

I remember seeing the flames atop the mountains and within a hair's breadth, witnessing in awe and horror as it raced down the spine of the mountain. I think subconsciously I knew we weren't in any real danger as it hadn't crossed the street but I think I must've tugged on Inyo's leash to get him further away from the fire, as if the few inches would've made a difference. It's human instinct to withdraw from a perceived threat. His resistance pulled me out of my head and back to reality. We were (relatively) safe, why not check it out along with the bystanders and news crew that had already begun to gather? It's also human instinct to observe -it's why we inevitably rubberneck despite swearing we won't be the one to hold up traffic like that car in front of us. So we went to check it out with the crowd, 6 feet apart of course. Arm slung across each other, mine around his waist and his casually over my shoulder, we stood there watching helicopter after helicopter dump water on the patches of flames. It was this image that the photographer captured. I recall the mountains looking beat up, barren and forlorn after the fire was put out. The black scars from the ordeal showing up starkly against the blue skies made me feel bad for my beloved mountains, how they must have suffered.

Never could I imagine that months later I would be standing in the same spot alone. This time, it would just be my own two arms clasped about my small heaving self, as if to futilely hold back the overwhelming grief, feeling much the same way I imagined my mountains to look back then-beaten up and scarred.

---

So now, some more months later, as I'm out on my daily walk, I'm struck dumb by the patches of greenery that's peeping up from the mountain face. They're scattered and patchy, awkward like a teenager who isn't sure how much space to take up, but they're green and they're there nonetheless. They grow bravely and defiantly, the scars of their ordeal scabbed over by slow growth. Fundamentally I know they didn't just spring up overnight, they've been budding since the fire was put out but it still catches me by surprise. I know this but I can't help but feel taken aback because as often as I've walked this loop, I never noticed it until recently.

I flinch as I reread my past journal entries, notably the one on January 12th. Not because it’s embarrassingly raw (it is) but because it wasn't too long ago that that memory, was my reality. While I may still instinctually recoil from the memory, I can see that I've kept pace with my mountains. They've been the metronome beating steadily in the background and living by them (by lucky happenstance), I didn't realize they were also keeping me on beat, outwardly reflecting our progress in a gradual, delightful blooming of life and healing, healing and life.

When I see the dare-to-be hopeful patches of greenery bathed in the early evening sunlight, it's human, or rather, Theresa instincts to turn my face towards the warmth of the sun, to soak in its life endowing light myself.

---

3/1/21

Red cross, ActiveSGV let- I paused in the midst of compiling my mental to do list. It felt like a lifetime ago when it was all I could do to perform the bare functions of existence. Did I get out of bed before noon? Yes? Good. Did I get out of bed without breaking down? Yes? Now that was a win. Those were hard days. And while I can get out of bed before noon and without crying more reliably now, it wasn’t so long ago that I can look back without flinching at the difficulty of the memory. The possibility of relapsing, of going back to that place, is always there. But when you feel like your life as you’ve known it is being upended, you count even the small victories. I process my observation of my mid-thought with wonder. The idea that I now tentatively have enough emotional and mental bandwidth to even consider doing something else aside from making it through the day without breaking down sends a small thrill down my spine. Now that was the win of the month!

2/19/21

We’re creatures of habits. So when it’s a habit you’ve known for years, it’s disorientating to shake things up. This past weekend was my first road trip with R and it was enjoyable, despite my initial dread over embarking on a long journey on a Friday of a long weekend (the irony hasn’t escaped me). While it was a great first road trip together, it was also…kind of weird. Even broaching the idea of taking the trip in the first place and then planning it felt strange. I didn’t know how to navigate through these uncharted waters because I’m so used to road tripping with J. We expected to adventure on long weekends because we had established that expectations years ago. It never crossed my mind that we wouldn’t go somewhere on a long weekend.

So while I enjoyed every moment of my first road trip with R, I admit J was on my mind more often than I’d like. It was as if I was leading little Theresa forward by the hand but she kept glancing back at the past, reminiscing on how I used to do x, y, and z with J. The contrast between then and now often induced feelings of loss, longing, and heightened the sense that something was amiss, like I was going against the natural order of things. From past experience, I knew that there was only one place these devious thoughts will lead me to if I left them unchecked. So before we went down that rabbit hole, I’d give her hand as much of a reassuring squeeze as I can muster and doggedly plod on with her in tow -partially because there’s nothing else to be done at this point but mostly because I want to move forward. I can’t say with much degree of certainty that things will be better ahead, but I’d like to (have to) believe they will be.

Initially I tried to convince her not to look back and to keep her eyes always ahead and when that failed, I tried bargaining with her to not look back as often. Eventually, I relented. I allowed myself to look back as often as I needed to and that offered some relief, I was able to free myself from the guilt and the need to always keep my eyes forward.

Learning grace is part of fighting the good fight and that weekend was a prime learning opportunity. I allowed myself to look back and gave myself permission to feel everything -the discomfort from what feels like a physical wrenching of myself out of a comfortable habit and familiarity, the longing for the familiarity, the excitement of the newness, and hell, the plain strangeness of the newness. I’m learning there is space and that it’s okay to hold contradictory feelings. After all, when I’m not an Olympic medalists in mental gymnastics, I’m really a plant with more complicated emotions.

---

1/12/21

Sadness accompanies me everywhere. She trails me.

The death of a dream is always heartbreaking.

Some times I gasp aloud from the pain.

It's not your heart that aches, not for me at least. The pain is a dull, slowly pulsing pain that's nestled right underneath my heart.

I stay in the house until I can't and then I walk, heading north, until I can't. On 1/12/21, I make it as far as the northern grass patch before I have to sit down.

The sun sets as quickly, the sky flares up as quickly as I'm overcome by the pain

I wonder if I appear drunk, crunching leaves and walking until I double over.

Idk who I'm glancing around for but at this point I wouldn't mind a hug from just about anyone.

---

1/1/2021

Rustle, click, thud

I settle in the car with a rustle of clothing and plug in my phone to charge with a smart click. As the phone snaps onto the magnetic phone holder with a light thud, that’s when it usually starts. At night in cold Ole Faithful the rustle, click, thud are the sounds of my thoughts preparing to play themselves out, like the din of middle school orchestra students warming up to play. I used to dread it in the beginning, the thud signaled the arrival of unbearable sadness. Unbearable sadness was like a sharpshooter that always hit the swollen sac of sadness nestled in the hollow behind my breastbone dead on every time. The burst sac would release a mixture of pain that would flood throughout my body to the tips of all my extremities, reaching every nook and cranny. Oftentimes, I’d barely make it down the street before I’d outwardly uttered an unbidden sob and hunch over the wheel in what felt like physical pain, clutching it with all my might, the tears streaming down my face.

But now that the sadness is a little older, and maybe my tears haven softened up its heart, unbearable sadness is now just sadness and sadness stands outside the passenger door waiting patiently -but ever so ominously- for me to invite it inside. I know better than to keep it waiting so it is with slight resignation that I nod my permission and it settles in and buckles up, a faithful companion on my ride home from my nighttime forays. When I come from my mom’s house which is noisy on quiet days, being alone in Ole Faithful with my silent companion makes the silence even louder.

Rustle, click, thud. Tonight, I feel out my thoughts as they parade themselves individually to me and slowly realize that they don’t all elicit as strong of a reaction as they have before. It’s as if my reaction was ammunition and as I became less volatile, the sadness, in turn, became less violent and all consuming -it just sits there. I ease Ole Faithful onto the road and begin my journey home. While I used to dread sadness’s presence, now we sit in companionable silence. I know it’ll be around for the ride for a while.

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artsyxloner · 4 years ago

Text

Not Just a Monster

Warning: none

25: Trust?

Hyun-Su P.O.V

Could I trust this guy? My insides were in knots after just finding out he was just like me. He killed his team without hesitation. He pretended to be the rabbit but all along he was the wolf.

I sort of get it to survive even as a monster you have to do whatever it takes. It was true it's not the monsters that are the Scariest it's the humans.

Judging by the paper he showed me when the helicopters flew by dumping them out will they welcome me with open arms? I knew Soo-Nico would if she were alive, she showed me that.

But the others?

I could count probably a couple but that's it. I didn't know them long enough or know their true intentions if they found out about the safe camp. Would they report me? I got to thinking they did use me and Soo-Nico but they made up for it but still.

All this thinking of the what if's made my head spin as we came down the elevator. The same one Jae-Hyeon died in. He was one of the ones that were good to me would I let him down by trusting Ui-Myeong?

Time would tell, I was torn by helping him and trusting the group. I would have to be cautious from here on out. Turning my head I looked at my reflection through the mirror.

It went on because there was another one on the other side as it started back at me. I could have sworn someone my eyes were black. I couldn't die as a human but am I living to see myself become a monster?

I saw the numbers count down until it got to one. I waited a few seconds for the door to open. Soon it did revealing the group, but they all had Serious Expressions on their face I don't blame them after just what happened.

They were holding up all kinds of different weapons. I Scanned through every one of them. Until something NO more like someone caught my eye.

It was HER

Soo-Nico stood in front of me I didn't know how my mind didn't recognize or see her. My breath was caught in my throat, I thought she had died? she did die in my arms.

I had to make sure I wasn't seeing things. I stood there for a couple of minutes processing what was going on but I decided To take a step closer. My words came what stutter-ish and probably unconvincing.

" H-How?"

I raised my hand up and with the tips of my fingers, I gazed at her cheek. It felt warm and firm it felt real. It was. I dropped my hand backing up.

The only way she could be alive is if she was infected. But she couldn't be? She didn't show any signs that I saw or none of them. If she was did she kept it a secret all this time?

But why would she?

I recalled the times she hinted at it during our first and second couple of other meetings. How could've been so dumb not to realize? " Hyun-Su what's going on with you?" My train of thought was Interrupted by Yi-Kyeong.

She stepped towards me with her gun, questioning what was wrong with me. " did I win?" Ui-Myeong stated, more like reminded me of what he thought might happen.

By the looks of the group, I was beginning to think he was right. " Hyun-Su is okay," Eun-hyuk informed everyone but did he know if I was? I began to question everything.

As I heard footsteps walk up behind me. " is that so?" Yi-kyeong now pointed the gun at Ui-Myeong questioning Eun-hyuk.

She still had the gun pointed towards him so I brought my hand back up to the tip of the Barrel lowering it away from him. " don't more!"

" you know those things can't kill me?" Ui-Myeong reminded Sang-Wook who was angry holding the gun tight in his grip. " don't worry about that. I'll find a way to kill you when I need to!" He threatened.

This was all too much.

I kept getting asked questions if I was okay and they kept telling me to come here as if I was their dog. Sang-Wook gun was still up so I walked over towards it the end of it was on my chest. " put that away, he saved me."

" think about what they had done?" I remembered what they did. I took a glance a Soo-Nico I almost let my guard down seeing the bullet hole that was through her shirt that was fully stained in her blood.

I still had some of it on me as well, I was at crossroads. If she was like me why lie and deceive me? There must have been a reason for it. But that reason could be something bad that's why she didn't plan on telling anyone.

It wasn't that hard to guess. " Hyun-Su he killed his men, –Do you trust him?"

I stopped him right there, " –Do you trust me?" I wanted to know did they trust a Monster, Wasn't I good enough that Soo-Nico didn't trust me with her secret? I did trust her either now? I glanced down at her. " seriously, do you trust me or should I trust you?"

I didn't take my eyes off her, she seemed to understand what I was saying now. Her eyes glanced to the floor with a look of regret. I felt my heart skip. I was disappointed in her I was with all of them.

I was just used, I was just filled with lies. They were just like everyone else in my life, did I still have feelings for her maybe? I know I did but right now I need to think everything through.

But first I had to say saying about Ui-Myeong. " He's just like me— So please, put your guns down." I had to break the suffocating atmosphere.

What did that matter? It will be like this for a while it may even become Awkward. So I decided to walk away from them, I didn't have to tell Ui-Myeong he followed.

But something caught my hand, I knew who it was. " Hyun-Su please let me explain—" she squeezed my hand like she did many other times when she did that I use to feel all warm inside but now I don't feel anything.

I had to shake my head, " No, there's nothing I want to hear from you right now." I jerked my hand away, closing my eyes. I couldn't turn and look at her knowing I'll break.

I walked into the room where Sun-Young got killed. There was a large Puddle of her blood laying on the floor, " I did it." I mumbled to myself, I noticed Ui-Myeong stayed behind.

" I... killed Ms. An."

I could hear myself began to cry, usually, Soo-Nico would comfort me but I didn't want to see or talk to her. I hadn't noticed Yi-Kyeong stepped into the room. " I know you had no choice." She nodded her had bottom lip quivering a little.

" you waited until the end, She would've wanted that for you." She turned and walked away out of the room. I could tell there were tears in her eyes. I remembered her face when I made her take her last breath.

As I stared back down at the Puddle of blood seeing my Reflection. Then glanced up at the Concrete column seeing where she was counting down the day until monsterization. It was her Tenth day.

Raising my hand I rubbed my finger over it. Frowning, I had to look away. I had no right to be sad. So I walked out of the room. Seeing Ui-Myeong we took a seat in the day-care-center.

It was quiet until I spoke to you. " What are you going to do from now on?" I questioned not knowing what he was going to do from here? " I'm gonna find more that are just like us." I nodded my mind went to Soo-Nico.

She was like us but different.

He leaned more over towards me, " when the hunt is over, the hound dies. It should live as a wolf, come with me." She suggested, taking me up on an offer did I what to take it?

My heart says no but my head says yes. So there were small quiet footsteps. Ui-Myeong peered over. " is he your friend? Come here it's okay." He motioned. I was it was Su-Yeong, he slowly walked over.

" Hyun-Su have you seen Mr. Han?"

" No."

" look my T-Rex leg is broken, he said he would fix it. Do you know who to fix it!" He pushed it towards me. Asking if I knew how. I didn't feel like fixing anything.

" No."

He looked down said, I didn't feel bad. " what about us? Do you think we can be fixed? I used to think so. Because I thought it was a disease So I volunteered for the experiment." He sighed,

" They made every effort to separate it from me. They tried freezing, thawing, sawing, piercing, scorching. What do you think happened in the end?" He nudged me, " it never came out!" He smiled.

" why not?" He asked as if I questioned it. " because the monster isn't in me. it is me! I realized then this is an evolution! And that I was the chosen one." His eyes turned black like he was all excited.

My stomach began to twist, " Humans have failed Not only did they fail in experiments, But they also failed to be selected by nature."

His eyes turned back to normal after he finished. Did humans fail? Was it time for a new chance for us to evolve into something much more unbreakable? Only if you survive the changing process.

Was it true only the strong survive? Maybe I was looking at this all wrong it wasn't the monster that we have to worry about the next generations to come.

" Accept it humans and we can't coexist anymore anyway." Was he right but that? Even with Soo-Nico, she lied to me this was a tough decision to make she will probably take there the human's side.

She just like them.

So I got up walking down the hallway until I heard more commotion. Did I even want to know? But I went anyway knowing I had to be a better monster than a human. Turing a corner Su-Yeong was being held back by his sister.

He was crying, I didn't know what was happening until I saw Byeong-II and Hye-In and a couple of others. They were trying to kill slime monsters. " No! Stop it!" I Screamed.

But it was no use Byeong-II throw the bottle of fire hitting the monster. I couldn't believe it. " It won't attack us!"

" Well, yes but we–" Byeong-II was stopped by Hye-In. " you don't know when it will Change!" She yelled. " shoot it! It's a monster!" The little girl cried. After all this time they still think monsters are all the bad ones

There was still screaming and crying going around. They began to burn it more with a blowtorch. My eyes winded as the huge yellow light was reflected off the walls.

He was right all along.

I turned to Ui-Myeong, " I guess you were right, monster and humans can't possibly coexist!" Anger rose in me. If they did that to him how can I live or trust these people I'm with?

Not anymore.

@xetherealbeautyx

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greyswritingagain-ohhell · 4 years ago

Text

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 ℭ𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔞𝔰𝔰

*yeets this at you and runs* PRINXIETY FAIRYTAIL SOULMATE AU-

The compass… What a beautiful creation. Burned into one’s little arms at birth, the red pin always pointing at destiny. Destiny one must travel to, a type of destiny named love.

Roman Sanders X Virgil Sanders

Word count: 2,393

TW: Blood mention, vague mention of sex (i guess?), threats, mentions of an unhappy father-son relationship. Msg if there is more.

★-----☾-----❍-----☽-----★

The compass… What a beautiful creation. Burned into one’s little arms at birth, the red pin always pointing at destiny. Destiny one must travel to, a type of destiny named love. The blissful romance of twirling skirts and melodic laughing from a young story of either woe or contentment. Though destiny is not entirely glitter and kisses, it is and will never be the work of fiction we all wish it be. It is also a raging storm against a raft in violent gunmetal waters, smashed plates and wine glasses once filled stained with tears and tragedy as cries and whimpers fill the lonely grey room that withheld an untold tale of sorrow.

Destiny, as mystifying as it is, can be merciless.

Though… maybe not in this case. Maybe not in the case of the poor little prince in his depressing creamy marble balcony. His glimmering jade eyes were devoid of the usual passion and joy they once shined with. Passion and joy were replaced with longing and unfulfilled urge. Urge to find his soulmate. His soulmate. He has built a reputation for himself for finding his citizen’s one and only, why couldn’t he find his? Why not a quest for the brave prince with a promise of a fairytail ending?

Simple. His father. The man who insisted he stay locked up inside, only seen when needed, only for the fair young maidens to coo and swoon at upon sight. All his services had been classified, hidden away within the palace walls, never to be dug up. But of course, that was only dust on his shoulder that he will eventually brush off. Because the one thing in his mind was them. His rare focus was on what he had considered will be his best achievement. His missing piece. The one he will treat like royalty then proceed to make them royalty.

His soulmate.

Though their meet was delayed many times, today, he was finally going to find them, see their sparkling eyes twinkle in the natural warm sunlight, witness their face contort from confused to… hopefully something positive. Today he will set off to the depths of the unknown and finally, finally, without any form of hesitation or restraint, be free from the chains of the limelight of their watchful gazes on him. Because as much as he loved his kingdom, he didn’t mind the morning breeze flowing through a woodland cottage as his love lied next to him, breathing softly and peacefully like an angel sent from the heavens. He didn’t mind the playful ribbons of the sunset reflecting on the diamond windows, endearing touches slowly becoming a burning sensation that lasts midnight when the stars bless their love.

But alas, father dearest must foil his plans once more when Roman Kingsley heard the familiar thudding of leather boots on the porcelain tiles, not even an attempt to sneak up.

“Father?”

At the unceremonious acknowledgement, his father came closer, crossing his arms as his eyebrows furrowed, “Roman.”

Roman only heaved a heavy sigh, his brown hair teasing his forehead as he ran a hand through them to tame the flying strands. They seemed to shine in the sun, glowing a divine gold over the hues of brown, a halo of a prince. A prince fit for the role of a protagonist, a hero in fiction. Too good to be true, too perfect for such an icy hell called Earth, a forgery for the monsters and myths. A place of fire and ice, uniting to let their twisted gift see the light, the most merciless craft of the gods all creation feared as their result of boredom wrecked havoc over the paradise they so generously provided. And yet there he was, gleaming gold and red, a divinity in the midst of the madness.

Gold in the sand dunes, he'd say.

“What do you need from me, father?” He pondered, raising an eyebrow. There was no denying the slight hurt bubbling in his chest. The weight that rivalled Earth itself was pressing down harshly on his tired shoulders, a warning like defying gravity to never let go. Handling pain had always been his forte, a duel of clashing bronze and gold in the air. But dealing with muffled, inconveniencing pain from someone he had once considered his own father? He'd rather be thrown to the wolves.

“Morgana's at it again. This time worse than usual.”

Contrary to popular belief, he was rather fond of the treacherous shape shifter. Sure, they both had their moments of malice and graceful of fiction-worthy battles, but nonetheless, she was one of good company. Maybe even a friend. Though Roman was positive she'd never admit it. She always struck up a conversation, even the first time they met. Throwing blasts of flames and questions about him and then proceeding to vent to him about the stupidity his father must’ve had to send a 15 year old to “slay” a dragon. His agreement and addition to the topic had unknowingly blossomed a purple and red friendship, flourishing in the snow while dripping vicious, warm blood on the contrasting temperature. If anything, he was thankful his father had sent him on those missions.

But one thing stuck out from his father's sentence.

Worse than usual?

“Will you take care of her?” He deadpanned, placing a large, heavy hand on his shoulder. It was of the most brief displays of what his father called “affection”. Please. Even the stalactites in the dark of the caves nearby loved him better. That is, if constantly falling and almost gifting him a concussion is loving in one's words. Which apparently was to the stalactites. But what did he expect? Kisses on foreheads and ‘we love you's?

“You know I will.”

Its not like he had anything better to do.

Well, there was one mystery at hand. Er, wrist. Because no matter where he turned, the compass pointed the tip of the silver dagger north. It didn’t, not once, change direction. A cliché, yes, but one can only assume his soulmate takes solitude in the brutally icy snowy mountains, freezing for their own life. Or maybe thriving. Who knows, this fair lass or lad may be a hunter, shooting silvery bits of moonlight to puncture any stags nearby. A life they see worth living over their humanity. It was grave, yes. But Understandable. It was ironic, really. Because north was where Morgana set camp that day. Just his lucky day.

The trot of the thoroughbred echoed widely in the evergreen willow forests, tiny little warm white stars shining and illuminating the strip of a path towards his usual Sunday evening. Towards the steep, rocky mountains of Ragana. Could’ve done a better job at naming the damn thing but hey, it's her mountain after all. He had no jurisdiction to interfere with her property.

But the peak of the mountain showed way, standing in all its shimmering glory in the afternoon sun.

“Morgana? My dear, I appreciate the need to see me, but I am on a quest! I must find my soulmate! Can this please wait?-“

“What do you want with my mother?”

He froze, his begging paused. His hands grow stiff as a tree in the air, his hair brushing his forehead teasingly against the cold wind the white snow tinted. The voice had slightly shocked him, foreign and quite… mystifying. He says foreign, through there was a silver lever snapping in his mind, saying it is a familiar melody in his ears. Dark, surely a male's, unwavering, and very, very attractive. How does one tell if another is attractive through their voice?

Another detail caught his attention. His compass, rock solid. Normally a compass' pin will vibrate, jitter, yet still keep its direction clear. The silver end was ice, now burning his arm once more ever since the day of his birth, the tip of the pin now locked on the engraved N. He never recalled any but one knowledge of the compass freezing mid-encounter.

The compass speaks.

Was this young lad his bound? The end of the red string…? His.. Destiny…?

“Hey! Prince guy! I was talking to you-“ the voice died, now silent. The only thing that passed his ears were the slapping of the drooping Willow trees nearby that served him a dreamy backdrop and the blowing winds, gentle and smelling of the oddly comforting breeze of winter.

His body regained its motioning state, his hand dropping to his side, brushing his white blazer. His eyes scanned the scene, remembering the direction the voice came from. It came from under the dark overhang of stone, untouched by the snowflakes. Morgana's humble abode, he'd say. And since when did she have a son? Assuming it’s a man.

“I-She's been wrecking havoc amongst Acelina. We cannot afford any more wreckage, we cannot spend money so carelessly to clean up her messes. She must be stopped.” He said, his head held high. One could take one look at his poised form and think that he was actually confident, brave as he faced the man. But no. His head was screaming. His legs felt like stiff jelly. He was weak for just a dark and mysterious voice. Sue him.

“And? Must you kill her? What proposes that need?”

He squawked in surprise and offend, “I never said she must perish! I simply need to talk-“

“Oh? Then why a sword? Why the need to bring a rash weapon when all you need to do is talk?”

If this was his soulmate, his guards better prim his deathbed soon for this hiding man will be the cause of his delicate demise.

Everything evaporated into the wind, a heavy silence falling and pressing on their slouched shoulders, a force like defying physics. And as every second ticks by in the hourglass, the weight started to gain, pound by pound as they helplessly watch themselves almost get wordlessly sink into a rabbit hole of deep tension.

Almost all else was lost into the marine depths of the Pacific till Roman heard footfalls against the 2inch thick snow. Till the small clouds of breaths from the other brushed softly against his flushed cheeks. Till he felt something cold and sharp press against his chest.

Oh no.

“Listen, prince, I don’t care who you are, what you want, or what your intentions are, all I want you to do is to not—touch—my—mother.”

Though the icy silence was the only solace he could’ve confided in, he had to reply. And he had to do it carefully. One wrong spin, one wrong puff of air, one wrong gesture, and the dagger drives violently through his panicking heart and he will be left to die in the clutches of the dark, mysterious lad without even a glimpse of his face.

“I have no intention or need to hurt your mother. She and I are… acquaintances. And I wish to speak to her.”

The lad lifted his head, his purple velvet hood now falling off as Roman was sure his heart had stopped and screamed at the sight…

His eyes. Those wretched, silver and coffee eyes will be the death of him. Sunlight flooded in them, the numerous similar shades of iron and dirt violently popping against porcelain skin. His hair was a tint of purple, blending in with midnight spikes flopping on his head. His lips were tight and sealed, a menacing scowl stretching his sharp features.

“Acquaintances, huh?-“

“Virgil!” a new voice broke through the sharp silence, stern and feminine. They both recognized it immediately.

“Mom?”

“Morgana!”

The woman was insanely beautiful, he had to say, what with the curled umber hair and the piercing gold eyes against equally pale skin as her son. The threaded hem of her slim burgundy dress was damp against the snow, her black velvet cloak waving against the wind.

“Virgil Anxolia Black, what on earth were you about to do?” she loudly proclaimed, pulling him by the arm and releasing the tight pressure ‘Virgil' so graciously put him under. He released a breath, swallowing lightly. Virgil, however, looked outraged, a cold, hard determination in his eyes. His gloved hand seemed to tighten around the knife the second Roman began to speak.

“Fret not, Morgana, he was simply-“

The knife was raised, another step falling onto the snow as he heard the crunch of it under Virgil's boot, “what’d I say about my mother?!”

Perhaps it was the strong tone of his voice or the alluring gleam of his wide, steely eyes, but Roman had just felt his heart skip a sobbing beat. His beauty was radiant, a rose against the crowded leaves, a lit candle amidst a hurricane, a stray shadow in the room of light. And with a knife pointed and a lethal scream of his heart, Virgil Black was truly an unmistakable Adonis in his jade eyes.

The scene went still, a brush of the wind setting tiny movements for the three. A chill ran down Roman's spine at it. Silence was never an area of expertise of his. Silence turns into tension, tension into impulsiveness, impulsiveness into absentminded decisions that lead to blood being drawn and late night regrets to weep for. He was not a fan.

But alas, before tension turned into a form of impulsiveness, the woman in the cloak stepped forward, gently taking her son's wrist, “your compass…”

Virgil raised an eyebrow, taking his wrist down, therefor lowering the knife and allowing Roman a few seconds of oxygen, “what’s wrong with it…?”

His mother huffed in gleeful disbelief, her golden eyes glimmering, “its still! Your soulmate must be in your presence!”

Contrasting the unusual cheery expression of the shape shifter, Virgil stilled, his hand once again a lethal grip on the bronze dagger, his eyes flat with no emotion, “someone's here.”

This only made Roman's skipping heart seemingly beat faster in lovesick adrenaline as he slowly connected the dots.

Mine doesn’t work either…

And it was clear that Morgana thought the same as she dragged Virgil's wrist forwards closer to him, careful not to impale the flinching prince, and took his own wrist, lining both their compasses up until both North and South are parallel points.

Everything seemed to click in the two men's minds, mismatched eyes meeting jade.

Oh boy, this will be a ride.

★-----☾-----❍-----☽-----★

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ellanainthetardis · 5 years ago

Text

Alright, this will be my review for The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes so obviously spoilers under the cut.

Also obviously, this is my opinion, I force no one to share it and I’m happy to discuss the book with anyone who wants to.

First off, I won’t go into all the deep themes in the books. It seems obvious to me there’s a very clever allegory for a contrat social at work here but since I am not very much interested in that, I will leave it aside. It’s well done, I think, but I am more a character driven sort of reader than theme driven and the debate over “are we the product of our environment or is man a beast at heart” is a bit null here. Surely enough, as one of the quotes at the beginning implies, the whole book more or less struggles to show Dr Gaul somehow turns Coryo into a monster to her Frankenstein… Sure, he seems to hesitate between right and wrong, the nature of the two etc etc. But, really, I have troubles relating to a character questioning the nature of man when that character is so plainly a psychopath himself.

I’m sorry. I said it.

Did I love Snow in this book? Sure. Even when he was being bad, I loved him. What’s not to love? He’s completely over-dramatic. All the time. He’s a complex character with Draco Malfoy vibes and who tries to do well by his family. But he is also sick in the head and that predates Dr Gaul’s little mind games. Can we argue it’s because of his traumatic childhood? Maybe. It doesn’t change the fact he equals love with possession, does not seem to experience remorse nor guilt – or at least not very long and he’s very quick to rationalize it – and has a natural ability to mimic or force himself to act as is expected in any given situation. He doesn’t react to things, you will notice, he behaves the way he thinks people expects him to.

So, he is sick. And since he is sick, the whole debate through his head about the nature of violence, men being beasts without laws, freedom versus enforcement, right and wrong, etc seems void.

Let’s leave that aside for now.

The question you will probably ask me is: did you like the book? And the answer I will give is yes I did. I did enjoy the book. At least the first two third of it.

It’s fast paced, it’s engaging, it’s easy to read…

What I like most is the worldbuilding. What a difference a 3rd pov makes… I mean we finally got all the world building we deserved. And the names. Actually, there were so many names in there I’m pretty sure she threw them as a joke. But, yeah. Everything I reproach Thg was fixed here: we have a more consistent idea of how the Games work out of the arena, we know the currency used is dollars (which we didn’t up until now), we have a better idea of how the Capitol works as a society, about the working of Peacekeepers and Districts… I quite enjoyed learning more about the 1st war and the post war world too.

I also enjoyed the Capitol families Cameos – and I was very wary about them if you read some of my posts pre-released. They were nice nods, it wasn’t too on the nose… I am relieved beyond measure not to have seen a mention of an Abernathy or a Trinket – or an Everdeen or a Mellark, I guess – mostly because that means we are still free to stick to our own hcs. (it’s not that important but still).

The cast of characters were all great – with two notable exceptions but I will come back to that.

I loved Snow’s family. What a surprise to find out Tigris is a Snow? But what joy she is. I really enjoyed her character but I have to say I’m a bit disappointed we didn’t get to see (or at least were told in the epilogue) how they grow apart or how she comes to have whiskers. The Grandma’am was an awesome addition too. Lucy Gray, the Coveys, the Peacekeepers, Sejanus, the other mentors… They were great.

I will argue that maybe Lucy Gray, as a main character (second main character? She’s the yin to his yang in this book) could have been more fleshed out because when it comes down to it, she seems to float around in the story only in relation to Snow. This being said and the pov being mostly Snow’s, it’s coherent with his egocentric view of the world. And I’m sure a lot of people will argue the case that her only purpose being to die so he can get over love is a bit problematic better than I could.

The two characters that I think were disappointing were the “villains” of the tale: Dr Gaul and Highbottom. They were actually so disappointing that I spent a good portion of the book convinced that here was some kind of secret plot, that there would be a conspiracy or something. But no, they were just that… flat.

Highbottom first: the creator of the Hunger Games who, obviously, didn’t mean to and ends up doctoring himself with morphling to forget. And seems to hate Coryo (yes that’s Snow’s nickname) for no obvious reason. I was sure there must be some twist but no, it just turned out he hates Snow because his father stole his Hunger Games idea to pitch it to Gaul for a grade and now he’s responsible for the death of kids. Which, I mean, is valid. But since it’s only here to bring into contrast the “is Snow really bad or have the circumstances make him bad” when, really, he’s a psycho, it ends up being very disappointing on discovery – never mind as the final reveal of the epilogue.

As for Gaul. Is she terrifying? I mean, for a young adult book, sure, I guess. She’s too obviously mean and crazy scientist for me though. I like my villains a little more subtle. She spent her times torturing her pet rabbit and various animals ffs. All she needed was a mustache to twirl. She’s cliché and, again, I’m sure it was like that for rhetoric purposes but… She’s Frankenstein and Snow is her creature, we get it. Why though? She takes a shine to him and proceeds to groom him so he can deliver the world she wants? So he’s her legacy? Because she’s a psycho too and she needs an apprentice? I thought that part was a little fishy because, at the end of the day… I don’t know, it seems a bit random.

But, I suppose, yet again, everything has to revolve around Snow in the book and in Panem.

And we’re touching to the part that annoyed me to death, that really really angered me and that, right now as we speak, I am a little disgusted by.

A short word first about the fan service. And there was plenty of that to go around. All the little wink wink, nudge nudge made me smile at first (like the grandma saying it only takes a spark for fire to catch, that sort of things), it was subtle so it worked. But as the book goes on, all the references built to the point I was sort of terrified Katniss would end up being related to Snow. And while she is not, I am fairly convinced she’s descended from the Coveys, it makes a lot of sense.

Ok… Where to start with that part and be coherent…

The less offensive (yes, I am using that word because it was offending to me) thing was Snow’s recurring reflection about the mockingjays. On hindsight, of course, it has so much more meaning than what is going on on paper, so it made sense and while it was a bit sold too thick, it was also interesting. That’s something I’m willing to grant was good.

I also liked the “it’s not over until the Mockingjay sings” saying. To be honest, I was 100% confident the epilogue would be a flashforward to the end of MJ and that quote would somehow come back into play but apparently not, that’s for us to fanfic instead.

Now, as for the rest… I am going to speak as someone who loves Haymitch Abernathy an unhealthy amount, and while I speak as someone who loves Haymitch, I also feel it is only minorly about Haymitch and a lot about Katniss, Peeta and the rest of the victors. But Haymitch is my favorite character in the series, Haymitch is a big part of why I have dedicated so much time writing fanfics and contributing to the fandom, I am very protective of Haymitch. And, on his behalf, I am so deeply, deeply offended.

In this book, Suzanne Collins makes Snow a victor.

We can argue the semantics. Naturally, he didn’t actually win the Hunger Games.

Or does he?

Because there are no winners, only survivors and by that very definition Coriolanus Snow is a victor.

Coriolanus Snow walked into an arena, was forced into the arena.

Coriolanus Snow fought in the arena.

Coriolanus Snow killed someone in the arena.

Coriolanus Snow walked back out of the arena.

He survived.

It makes him a de facto victor. He is actually literally called that a couple of times throughout the book. It’s reinforced by the idea that mentor and tribute are a team, even.

And this very idea that Snow is a victor, has been a victor all along, is so deeply, deeply upsetting to me. The bond between victors, it’s something very special, I feel. Victors share something nobody else can understand – my very favorite part of the whole series is in Catching Fire when they hold hands, it is such a strong emotional moment, it always moves me, always. And Snow being a part of that defiles it. Worse, that means a victor was actually the one imposing such horrors on other victors all along.

And that’s… I mean, probably in terms of themes and the story as an independent object, it’s all very ironic and dark and full of great meaning about man and it’s condition. But for someone who loves Haymitch, it is very deeply offending to learn the man who has taken everything from him went through the same experience he did, that they share that bond, that they have so many similarities.

Too many similarities actually. And here we are going to branch out on TBOSAS in relation to Katniss more specifically.

That’s another thing I am not sure I liked: how similar Snow’s conditions were to our beloved characters. The starvation, the very similar experience they had growing up.

At first, I didn’t mind it. I thought, even, that it was quite fitting. But the problem came when so much of Katniss’ story was being… stolen, turned around. It started feeling like this book was subverting the powerful story in THG, not just the main plot, but everlark, and the character building. So, of course, here again, it’s probably a matter of questioning if, stemming from the same conditions, you become a hero or a villain. Nature or nurture. That sort of things. And, again, it depends if you look at the big picture and analyze it calmly or if you react with your guts as a fan, I guess. Yeah, no surprise, I’m going the fan route.

So there were a lot of parallels to Katniss.

The starvation. The strong sense of family. Lucy and the singing…

And it wasn’t limited to Katniss, it touched to everlark too.

The star-crossed lovers thing comes to mind obviously (and I want to talk about the ship too but after). Then, there was the bread thing that was both Snow’s and Lucy’s favorite and the fact that Snow brings her food all the time. The poison in the arena we can land at snow’s door since it’s his weapon of choice, but still poison in the arena, my mind goes straight to the berries… (I will tackle the hanging tree song after)

At this point (before she goes in the arena), I was still mostly okay with it because I thought it would somehow have a reason later. Like either Katniss would turn out to be related to Lucy or it would remain light enough to turn out to be foreshadowing for THG.

Then came part 3. And that’s where the book mostly lost me.

There are eleven other Districts in Panem. So why Twelve? And if it had to be Twelve why pollute everything Katniss loves? How are we supposed to see those things the same way again when we know what we now know?

The meadow? The meadow where the toastbabies are dancing and running? Where so many people are laid to rest? Snow has been there, kissed his girl there. And let me tell you, as a Haymitch fan, knowing that Haymitch never gets to reunite with his girl in the meadow because of Snow, it’s a special kind of pain to read Coryo frolicking there in the grass “with his girl”.

And then, of course, I don’t know what is worse… The lake or the song?

Let’s start with the lake. Where do I begin? The lake that is so special to Katniss? The little shack where she stocks everything? The lake that features into so many fanfictions and that, if some people feel the same way I do, can never be used again the same way? So, that lake was where Snow murdered (possibly) his “love”. The lake, thus, becomes a part of Snow’s narrative.

It’s stolen away from Katniss.

And to better stress that point? The scene with the Mockingjays taking up the hanging tree when Lucy is about to get murdered. (let’s make a digression to say oh boy how fun it must have been for Snow during mj, I’m very tempted to fanfic THAT). It’s all very full of symbolism, of course, but with the hindsight? It’s another great important moment stolen away from Katniss. Highjacked. Not unlike a mutt, actually. This book is a mutt XD

Which brings me to what really, really made me angry: the hanging tree song.

That song is so symbolic of MJ and everlark. I mean, there’s one thing I will give MJ the movie and that’s this scene with the song. The people attacking the dam and getting butchered while humming that song? Iconic. But more prosaically, book based, that song is such such a powerful moment. It’s special. And not only because of all the thing with everlark and the tree and midnight.

And suuuuure there might be a lot of symbolism in that song being not strictly about but still intimately related to Snow. Sure. But you know? It’s also another thing that now is about Snow. So even as Katniss was singing that song, getting the Districts to rebel, showing Peeta that District 12 was gone, letting the Mockingjays by the lake take up the chorus… It isn’t just about hope or freedom anymore. Now, it’s about Snow and about how terribly ironic it is this particular song comes to be his demise, how it’s fate or karma or whatever you want to call it. Because now, we can’t unread this book, we can’t unknown what we know.

And I hate that.

Because Katniss’ journey in THG? It’s now so deeply linked to Snow’s story that if you take a step back and think, it’s more all about Snow than it is about her, or her sister or the Districts. Snow lands on top, right?

And you know what really irks me?

The book is actually good as a character study book (not really so much as dystopia because in terms of actual plot, I feel there was really little) but it didn’t have to taint so many elements of THG the way it does.

Let’s say for a moment Snow isn’t Snow. Let’s say he is a wealthy Capitol fallen from grace and that character who is not going to be the President of Panem has the same journey Coryo does. Let’s say at the end of the story, he moves on to become a famous Head Gamemaker or a close advisor to the President?

Well, the themes explored then remained the same, the conclusions remained the same. We lose the visceral signification of his connection to the mockingjays but is that really important? The Hanging Tree now has a resonance for another character in that world, the meadow has probably seen countless lovers reunions and someone killed someone else at the lake, those things happen. The problem is they happen to Coriolanus Snow.

And baring that, let’s say we keep Snow as a main, why did it have to be Twelve? Again, there are eleven other Districts in Panem. He could have come to the very same conclusions in any other place.

Twelve is only relevant in relation to what happens in THG, to Katniss, to Peeta, to Haymitch.

Lucy and the Covey could have ended up stuck in any other Districts. It didn’t have to be Twelve. It didn’t have to spoil the Meadow, or the lake or even the Hanging Tree song.

Is that why Snow hates Twelve so much? Is that why he kills Haymitch’s family even if it’s completely stupid and leaves him without a leash around a Quell’s victor’s neck? Is that why he bombs the Districts into complete oblivion ? Not to punish its victors but because he so intimately hates the place? Because he walked in their very shoes? Because, for a brief time, from his Frankenstein’s experiment, he played in the mud?

For that matter, is that why he has this weird relationship with Katniss? Because she reminds him of Lucy? The similarities are there if you look… Is Katniss a sort of ghost to him? Come back to haunt him after all those decades? Is that why it feels so personal between them?

I will say a quick word about the ship: I was into it at first. Then there was this scene at the zoo after the snake attack on Clemmie and I felt everything started going downhill from there. The ship is rushed. They go from attraction to love in ten seconds FLAT. I know it’s YA and concessions have to be made (although I will argue I read plenty of YA and some ships don’t seem this juvenile), I made them on account of the fact they’re both young and prone to being drama queens.

(I’m making a brief parenthesis because, rereading this, I realized I did say when the book announcement came out and we all very obviously predicted the romance, that as a hayffie fan I hated the thought Snow would have a Capitol/District romance, but on that account, I have to say after reading I don’t even care because it felt so immature and so not actual love, that I don’t feel it really counts? But at the same time, it’s definitely something I have to think upon in terms of hayffie and Snow because would his own experience play in the way he sees them/manipulates/threatens them?)

All in all, though, that ship didn’t convince me. I couldn’t believe it was real. On either part. On Snow’s part because I’m not certain he’s capable of love. He equals love with possession, “his” girl, she “belongs” to him, he liked her better locked in the zoo because he knew where to find her, he constantly questions Lucy’s loyalties… Every time she sings something, he’s like “is it about me? Is it about me? It’s not about me? Who is it about? I hate her. She’s dead to me. Oh but now she’s singing she’s over him. So I love her again”. Being in his head is a journey, let me tell you.

As for Lucy, it’s frustrating. But with Collins, I learned long ago to be frustrated (hey, hayffie fan here XD. You know the two characters you need to build your own hc about if you want to use them with some depths). You can feel there’s this whole backstory about her but we never get to really touch that and so we’re treated to this very strange scene with the ex-lover but we don’t really care because there is no passion, nowhere… In fact, as a character, outside of her singing, her being a show girl, and her little discourse about how man should be free, live and let live yada yada yada, Lucy’s character is very flat in the third part of the book. She’s here only to allow Coryo’s character development.

I would argue that Sejanus actually makes more of an impact on Snow and the general plot than she does in part 3 – or, if you think about it, in the book in general. Lucy is the trigger that gets Coryo’s reflection starting about the hunger games but it’s really Sejanus that challenges it and keeps it going. Sejanus is, in fact, the District character since Snow keeps telling himself the Covey aren’t really Twelve.

I also want to say, on a completely unrelated note, that the constant mansplaying of songs by Snow was unbearable. And that’s not his fault. So, Mrs Collins, I know how to interpret a text thank you. And I’m sure everyone else does to. It broke the pace and the emotion so much for me when he started randomly explaining. The Lucy Gray ballad was the worst. “she’s dead.” NO KIDDING SHERLOCK.

And while we’re in that Lucy Gray thing: very subtle foreshadowing here, btw. Didn’t see it coming at all.

Ah and also something that made me cringe and that I felt was very out of place: the livestock cars and the cages at the zoo. Not to go all social justice warrior but when I read, it immediately hit home and not in the right way. It felt like a prop to stress how inhumane and racist the Capitol was being, they were easy references to loaded terrible horrifying history events and I truly, truly thought it was borderline because, like I said, it was used as a prop.

To conclude.

Is this book great? Yes and No.

I think if you take it independently of THG, it’s a very good book. It’s interesting, the characters are compelling, there is a moral for you to reflect on… It’s not the best dystopian book I’ve read in recent years, it’s not the best young adult book I’ve read in this lockdown (Hi, do yourself a facor, check out the Shadow of the Fox trilogy and then come shout at me in my ask box) but it was still a good read. And I forgot to say but the first half of the novel is actual crack. It was hillarious. Might not have been the intent but come on. It was funny. (and I’m satly they sent him in the arena but they sent him with a can of pepper spray and that will make me laugh forever) I had a good time and, at the end of the day, that’s what you ask of novels.

However, in the general context of the series, loving thg as much as I do, it tainted some of the iconic things, twisted them, insulted some of my most favorites characters, and that really dampened my joy and made me angry. So as a fan… I’m not sure I can say it was great, no.

It certainly didn’t let me indifferent though and that’s already something.

And, I mean, it is so much better than the cursed child I feel I cannot complain too much.

It also does leave the door rather open to a sequel, doesn’t it? I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s another announcement soon.

#tbosas spoilers #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes spoilers #balladspoilers #spoilers #i read stuff #namely abosas #abosas spoilers #book review #I did my best to correct spelling errors and such #but i've spent the whole day reading and my eyes are killing me

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lu-undy · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 66 - SBT

Here it is!

The morning was cold and crisp. Thank God for that scarf and beanie. He had stolen it, like everything else, unfortunately. But he didn't have any choice.

The campfire had died overnight, as it usually did. He revived it and warmed up his hands. Those mittens weren't good enough. He should go and find proper gloves with fingertips. His teeth chattered and his stomach growled. Time to find some food.

"You stay here, I will be back shortly."

He received a nod for an answer and he headed deeper in the forest. Most of the trees had lost their leaves but the forest was so dense that one could still progress quite stealthily. He walked until he spotted a rabbit, maybe a hare.

"Ah…"

He pulled the rifle he was carrying on his back and readied it, reloading it slowly and silently before screwing in the suppressor at the end of the barrel. He went down on one knee to take aim and didn't fail. The rabbit fell limply to the ground. He went to retrieve it and walked back to his camp.

"I am back. This should feed me for the entire day. You still have your own food."

He cleaned the rabbit, skinned it and gutted it before cutting the different parts neatly. That knife had never been that handy. He had breakfast with one leg and a bit of the rabbit and then laid down to take a nap in his shelter.

"Wake me up if anything happens."

Again, he was answered with a nod and laid on his side watching the day pass before he fell asleep.

His days were extremely uneventful. No one came around these parts to pass by, especially now that it was winter, and so he felt like he owned the entire forest for himself. His pass times included carving wood, sharpening his blade, throwing it at tree trunks and talking to himself and his horse.

Yes, the horse was the only company he had, and he had stolen it too. Everything he owned he had stolen off of people who had come earlier in the year. May it be for a hike, a bit of hunting, fishing, anything that could be done around these parts. And in more than a year, he had amassed quite the collection of objects. He had everything he needed. He even had a game of cards, he just missed someone to play with.

When he woke up from his nap, he decided to go on a walk with the horse. He hopped on his back and off they went, marching slowly. After more than a year living there, they both knew the forest by heart so the thrill of discovering new paths didn't exist anymore. They languidly walked through, under the dark spiky branches, and that's what they would spend their time doing.

This time of the year, the forest was dull and sad. Life seemed to be taking a break, dormant. The horse was taking his time, enjoying the view, his hooves crunched on the dead leaves on the ground. The squirrels were away, birds hardly chirped. The silence was deafening and made the man reflect on himself. He detested that.

Living like a hermit in a forest wasn't something he had chosen by free will. Circumstances had pushed him to do so. He had to live far from the eyes and ears of men, so he returned to nature. It reminded him of darker days of history, during the war. Only now, he wasn't wearing the uniform, he wasn't obeying anyone's orders, he was no one, and had returned to the state of dust. His hair had grown, his beard too but he could at least keep it to a reasonable level with the knife.

For how long? He himself didn't know how long he had to keep living this way. It had been more than a year already and he wished he wouldn't have to drag it for a decade. Again.

Another decade of trying to pause time. You can't pause the passing of time. Time does not care about you and however you choose to spend it. Time passes.

And it was a torture. For he was stuck there with this horse. He couldn't go anywhere else. Trying to escape would get him noticed and that was the last thing he needed. The plan was to vanish. But this time, Houdini should not reappear. Even though he craved to, he shouldn't because it would not only put himself in danger, but also, the life of the man he wanted to reappear for.

God only knew how that man had spent his year. Maybe he had forgotten, and moved on. Maybe he had learnt to live again, find something to do and keep his days busy. Maybe it was now a story of the past, or maybe he even managed to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

But for the hermit, it was no laughing matter. It was actually his reason to open his eyes and break his dreams of the night. Those dreams were something. They were the only times where he could see him, the man who mattered. He would see him, hear him, touch him even. He would have conversations with him, he would woo him all over again, let his fingers run through his long, brown and wavy locks of hair…

Those dreams were a torture. But each day he would wake up and try to swallow it down, try to not keep track of the number of days - 487 - that had passed since that last kiss. And he wondered. When he had said "Please, forgive me.", did that man in the end forgive him indeed? If he hadn't forgiven him yet, would he in the future?

And what had become of their baby? Did she miss him? If she were to see him again, would she recognise him? How did she grow up? What did she look like now? Hopefully she was grown up and well. He knew she would, he had trusted that man with her and he knew how good he was.

The hermit crossed a thin stream of water and the horse stopped to drink. He wasn't far from another camp. He might spend the rest of the day and the night there. He waited for the horse to finish and they carried on. When they found the other camp, the afternoon was half over. Thank God that forest spread wide…

The hermit covered the horse with a blanket and sat down to start a fire. The temperatures started to drop. When the flames were going steadily, he decided to have a bit more of the rabbit. He grilled it and ate it slowly while humming to himself. When he finished, he looked at the sun setting.

There were days where he would like it, not anymore. He knew what the sun set looked like too much. The view was sickening. It reminded him of his solitude. He abhorred it all and sighed. He did his ponytail again and decided to lie down and sleep through it.

But of course sleep didn't come. Even if the sky was turning darker and darker, his brain was running fast, spinning like a wheel with a mad hamster. He tossed and turned under his tent, left and right, under the duvet. He added more and more layers to prevent the cold draft from slithering it and licking his face with its ice tongue. He tried his best and his hopes died the moment he realised that his campfire died too.

"Merde…"

He sighed and threw the blankets away. What should he do then? Well, maybe taking a walk would help. He stood up, wore a poncho on top of his winter clothes and exited the tent. The horse neighed when he passed next to him.

"I am off for a walk, that's all. You may sleep if you want. I don't know how long I will be."

And he left the camp, the rifle on his back and his blade in his inner pocket, as always. He walked under the full moon and between the naked trees, slithering through. There wasn't any wind whatsoever and the forest was asleep. He stopped. He knew it in his guts. He would not sleep.

"Et merde."

[And shit…]

He went back to his camp and took the horse with him. He was mad at himself, at his loneliness, the solitude gnawing him on the inside. They went on a large forest way that had been formed by countless people walking on it before him. He aligned the horse straight.

"Au galop!"

[Gallop!]

The horse obeyed instantly and raced on through the forest. The hermit bent forward and held on to him. The cold air whipping his face did exactly what he wanted. It made his eyes water and tears streamed down his face. The first one was always the hardest to shed but the ones after came more and more easily.

He hated himself. He hated himself with a passion. He wished he could punch himself, make himself eat his teeth, ask the horse to trample him with its heavy hooves! He couldn't live with himself!

The fool! He thought that revenge would bring him some peace but no! It didn't do anything but bury the rest of him alive! Revenge had not put any part of him to rest.

He was eaten out by both regrets and remorse. There are things that he should have done and said as much as there were things that he should not have done and said.

Maybe that last kiss was too much. Maybe that last goodbye was not enough.

He pushed the horse to race against his own fury, galloping violently on the floor of dead branches and leaves.

But soon, the horse tired out and slowed down to a gentle trot. The hermit was out of breath without uttering a word or running himself.

Ha, maybe now he was tired enough to find sleep.

"Allez, on rentre."

[Come on, let us go back home.]

The horse slowly turned.

"Attends."

[Wait.]

From the distance, the hermit could see the lake. There was a fire there, he could see the orange spot glowing in the infinite dark blue scenery. If there was a fire, there was someone and possibly resources for the hermit.

"Allons jeter un oeil."

[Let us have a glance.]

The horse headed for the lake slowly. As they got closer and closer, the hermit frowned. He heard some noises. They weren't voices… It was different, more… woody?

He stopped and dropped off of his horse when he was close enough to observe the campfire through the scope of his old rifle. He lay on the ground on his belly and scoped in.

The fire was reasonably small so the hermit guessed it was only one or two people there. He saw some skewers and fish heads. That was a lot of fish for just one or a few men…! But what on Earth were they doing at night in winter there?

The hermit dragged the scope around and saw the silhouette of a man sitting on a chair, giving his back to him and facing the lake. The sounds became clearer but the hermit wanted to be sure.

"Reste ici. Je reviens."

[Stay here, I will come back later.]

He walked low, close to the ground, as silently as possible, getting closer to the man giving him his back.

Mon Dieu…

It wasn't noises. It was… music.

The hermit lay down and scoped again. The man sat on the chair was waving gently left and right, to the music of his saxophone. Oui, it had to be a saxophone. It was hidden from the hermit's view but he did have quite a musical ear.

And the music was pleasant. He recognised it and found himself humming along as he watched the musician play to the lake. What was it called that song again…? Ah, oui, Killing me softly…

"I heard he sang a good song,

I heard he had a style,

And so I came to see him, to listen for a while

And there he was, this young boy, a stranger to my eyes"

On top of the song being quite slow, the woodiness of the saxophone, the breathiness of it gave the performance a very mellow tone to it, very melancholic. Add to that the full moon, the infinite black sky and the reflection of the silver moonlight on the lake ... The atmosphere was more than magic.

"I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd

I felt he'd found my letters and read each one out loud

I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right on"

The man had quite the talent…! The hermit stayed stuck there, an eye on the scope and his head swinging left and right. His lips finally yielded to the temptation. After all, he had been a singer in a previous life…

"He sang as if he knew me

In all my dark despair

And then he looked right through me

As if I wasn't there

And he just kept on singing

Singing clear and strong"

The hermit removed the scope from his eyes and put the rifle away. He propped himself on his elbows and held his head, tilting it left and right in rhythm, slowly.

Ah the lake was lucky to receive such a performance. The hermit was used to the odd campers with a badly tuned guitar and awful pop songs. But this, this was different. A saxophone? And the nuances…! It took the hermit to an earlier life, short hair, clean-shaven, three-piece suits and crates of admirers' letters… Singing to a crowd which loved the emotion he put them through with his voice alone, when he was really only singing to one person, one man, the reason his heart beat for.

"Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words

Killing me softly with his song

Telling my whole life with his words

Killing me softly

With his song"

He closed his eyes and smiled, even though he didn't realise it. Music was a merciless mistress. She was one of the few people who could entirely bewitch him and make him almost forget his own self. And just like that, he was back to being the classy, arrogant man, wooing men and women alike…

The musician stopped and it pulled the hermit out of his day dreaming. He distantly heard him talk but didn't see anyone else around. He grabbed the scope to confirm and yes indeed, there was no one else. The man was talking to himself then. Not that the hermit would judge, he was talking to his horse…

By the way, he should get back to him and go for at least a nap. He went back to his faithful companion and as he hopped on his back, he realised that he was still humming to himself. Such a beautiful song that was, hm?

They trotted back to the camp and the hermit sank in his tent and in his bed. But the unexpected performance did keep him up a bit more. Could he hope for more impromptu concerts like these? He hoped the musician would stay a few days. It would be a good change of routine for him. And for the resources? Bah, the hermit would leave him be. As long as he provides good music, he shall not steal anything from him. Let that be the poor tip he would offer him.

Needless to say the hermit was not carrying a single cent. Not that he didn't have money. He had quite a bit of it. But accessing it meant going to town and giving his name, thus blowing up his cover. Non, he couldn't have access to money and he couldn't buy anything, which was why he was reduced to stealing. Him who could afford the best of dwellings, the feasts of kings and the clothes of princes, he had to steal. He took no pride in it, neither did he feel ashamed of it. He never stole to sell it again or gain any personal wealth. Everything he stole he needed, even this horse.

"Bonne nuit, l'ami."

[Good night, pal.]

Hm. The horse. It didn't have a name. Why? Because anything the hermit named disappeared off his hands. So he stopped naming whatever was of value to him. It was better that way, it was safer. He had stolen it off of a group of people touring the area on horseback. It might have been his biggest theft yet. And he pulled it off with such ease…!

That was the stuff of stories. But no one was there in the tent to listen to it. No one, especially not the one he craved and dreamt to sleep with. He had done it, a few times. He would entangle his limbs with that tall man, he would let himself be loving and vulnerable, maybe even silly. He was head over heels for him. The hermit sighed. Hopefully that man was doing well. Was he gone to bed? Was he asleep? Was he dreaming or having nightmares?

The hermit sighed and curled up in his bed. He closed his eyes.

"Bonne nuit, mon amour."

[Goodnight, my love.]

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

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alexboehm55144 · 4 years ago

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Alex Final Wars 2: Dark Alex, Chapter 26 - Respite

Haida and Retsuko were on shore leave, holding paws and taking a stroll down one of the many coastal paths in Zootopia. The reminders of the war were still on their minds, the thoughts of a spy network in the city, and the fact that the wreckage of Chinese and American ships sat just off the coast.

But these thoughts were secondary, the pair were just having fun together, enjoying some ice cream they had bought from a shop.

Retsuko had gotten ice cream with liquor in it, saying she needed it to relieve some stress and unwind.

Haida had gotten coffee-flavored ice cream, and his red panda girlfriend chuckled when the hyena ordered it, citing that his favorite drink was canned coffee.

“What would you like to do?” Retsuko asked, “when this is all over?”

“Well, I think I’ll keep my current job. I assume we are still needed.”

“I agree. It’s the best job I’ve ever had. Of course in my last job, I met you.”

Haida blushes a bit & scratched the back of his head, which was something he did when embarrassed.

The pair found a bench to sit on and stared out at the harbor. Sea birds flew overhead and hunted fish in the water. Engineering crews worked on the wreckage of ships and aircraft in the bay, planning to tow them out to sea to become artificial reefs.

“What else?” Retsuko asked, “I know it might be hard to think about your whole life.”

The hyena was quiet for a moment, prompting Retsuko to speak.

“Don’t feel like you have to answer.”

The hyena’s mind raced. He didn’t know much about what he wanted to do in the far future of his life.

“Well... I don't know everything I'm going to do in my life....”

The hyena struggled with his words, but seeing the beautiful red panda in front of him, he was able to find what he wanted to say.

“....but I do know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

A slight gasp escaped Retsuko's lips, as Haida took Retsuko's paw in his own. It felt cold and slightly wet, as she had been holding the ice cream in that hand. But the hyena didn't care, he enjoyed the red panda's touch.

Retsuko looked at Haida's hand and thought to herself. She loved him, and every time the pair was together she was enjoying herself. If the hyena wanted to spend their lives together, then that meant every day of her life would be enjoyable and happy.

“I’d also like to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The red panda stood up on the bench to get closer to the hyena and gently put a kiss on his lips.

Haida blushed and was stunned for a moment. However, he had gotten more comfortable around Retsuko, & was able to regain his composure quickly.

“Come on, let’s go find a karaoke bar around here.”

The red panda smiled, her hyena knew what she liked.

000

ZIA HQ had been targeted by the Chinese during the first invasion, but since then it had been repaired. Bullet holes in concrete had been filled, and shattered glass panes had been replaced. Some ZIA personnel had gotten killed during both assaults on the city, but the agency had since been supplemented with recruits.

Jack and Skye were currently in their shared office, a rabbit & foxed size room with a window that faced out onto a stone pathway outside the building. 2 desks with computers were set up, along with some file cabinets and a few other random bits of furniture. On the wall sat a large conspiracy board with pictures, maps, and sticky notes. It did include the Dark Heroes, and information on the Chinese.

Skye was just returning from a lion run fast food restaurant named burger pride, while Jack had stayed in the office and worked on some things

“How was your training session earlier?” Skye asked, setting a brown paper bag & a drink down on her mate’s desk.

“It was good, although it would have been more fun if you were there.” Jack flirted.

“Ha! Although your accuracy would suffer since you’d just be staring at me all the time. I know you do that.”

“Is it that obvious?!”

Skye laughed, and opened the bag on her desk, taking out a burger covered in aluminum foil, and unwrapping it to reveal the delicious meal. Jack did the same, quickly biting into the burger.

“Is this plant-based?” The rabbit asked, seeing that the wrapping foil had a small green sticker with a plant on it.

Skye nodded.

“The menu said it was a plant-based substitute, perfect for prey creatures.” The fox paused to take another bite of her burger and chew. “Mine is real meat.”

She pointed to a small red sticker that showed an icon of a steak. The burger was made from unevolved cows and provided all the proteins that a carnivore needed in their diet.

Jack took a sip of the Pawpsi cola in his cup, & pondered what the real meat burger tasted like. He stood up from his desk and went over to Skye.

“Let me take a bite of yours.”

“What?”

“I want to see what yours tastes like.”

“Go away,” Skye said playfully, holding her burger up & out of reach.

But Jack just hopped up and swiped the food out of her paw before taking a large bite.

“Mmm... can’t taste the difference. The plant substitute is a very close approximation.”

“Well if you get to taste mine, then I get to taste yours.”

She plucked Jack’s burger from his paw and bit into it.

“Yeah your right, I can’t even tell it’s plant-based.”

“I still want it back.”

The pair playfully tried to reclaim their food from each other, eventually succeeding and laughing at their immaturity.

“I love you,” Skye said with a full mouth.

Her bunny responded, his mouth also full.

“I love you too.”

000

“We’re getting some weird looks,” Eris said, her and Laval walking down a street, through the meadowlands area of Zootopia.

“Toothdee told me this area was mostly inhabited by prey animals. I guess that could explain the weird looks.”

“Or they’ve just never seen an evolved eagle before,” Eris said.

“I don’t know, I’m getting some stares too.”

The pair had wanted to get out and explore more of Zootopia, and toothdee had recommended the meadowlands to them as somewhere to visit. Their current location was comprised of small stone buildings that were overgrown with plants. Not a result of neglect, but instead just attempts to incorporate civilization with nature. Prey animals such as goats walked the streets. While most were too busy to care about Laval and Eris, others found it appropriate to give them weird glances. Fortunately, the 2 would not have to be the subject of awkward looks for much longer, as they left the street and turned onto a trail through a grove of trees. The ground turned from pavement to dirt, and the leaves stretched overhead.

“You notice how lions here have a different style of mane than those in Chima?” Eris said.

“I have, I wonder if it’s a cultural thing or something. Just a different style of mane wearing.”

“Don’t forget Kion wears his in a mohawk.”

“Oh yeah, true. The lions here remind me of my dad. Maybe because his mane is kinda similar to theirs, in that it has more hair.”

Laval paused and then spoke again.

“I wonder what my dad is doing in Chima right now. I miss him.”

Seeing that Laval was feeling a bit sad, Eris reached down and gripped Laval’s hand with her own, making the lion brush a bit and causing a slight smile to cross his face.

“He’s proud of you.” The eagle said. “Think of all you’ve done for Chima and the world.”

There was another pause as Laval thought for a moment, and the smile stayed on his face.

“Thank you.”

The pair reached a large hill, next to a stone cliff, with a view looking out on rolling fields of grass and rivers that stretched as far as the eye could see. The sky was darkened by clouds from an approaching storm, and the wind blew through the grass, causing patterns that looked like waves.

Laval took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the fresh and damp air. Eris stretched her wings, took a running start, and took into the sky. She soared high above the grass and rivers, gazing at the magnificence of nature. The eagle dove down and flew low above the river, looking at her reflection on the water. She reached her hand into the river and created a trail of water as she continued to fly along.

“I wish I had wings,” Laval said to himself, watching Eris dance across the sky.

The eagle soon returned after a few moments, landing next to her lion.

“Do you have to show off, wing girl?” Laval asked playfully.

The pair sat together, looking out at the rolling grass hills, the wavy rivers, and the turbulent sky. It wasn’t sunny or particularly colorful but was pretty in its own way.

“Ok, what’s a prettier view?” Eris asked “this or the view from Spiral mountain.”

“Hmmm... Spiral mountain,” Laval answered. “Of course, nothing is as pretty as you.”

The eagle blushed and covered her face with a wing.

“Do you miss home?” The lion asked, still thinking about his father.

“Yes, I do. But we’ve left our home behind before, to do some good somewhere else.”

“True, plus we have some of the best of friends with us, and plenty of battles to test our skills.”

“See, things aren’t so bad.”

There was a loud clap of thunder, causing both Laval and Eris to look up to the dark skies above.

Raindrops began to pelt down, making the pair groan as the raindrops started to hit. Eris brought her wings up as shields to cover the pair, protecting them from being drenched.

“Let’s get out of here,” Eris said, and the two retreated to the safety of a dry area.

000

“Sure, I got 4 tickets to the Gazelle concert tonight,” Nick said. “What’s it to you?”

He and JayJay were currently alone in a hallway on the typhoon, & Nick had 4 tickets sticking out of his back pocket.

“I want 2 of them,” JayJay said

“Why?” “I want to have a good time with Alex. That’s all you need to know.”

“I don’t know if a concert is his thing, he’s a real introvert.”

The wolf groaned and shook her head.

“Just, name your price for 2 tickets.”

“Well, do you have anything you think I could use?”

A smirk crossed JayJay’s face. She excused herself and told Nick to wait, before leaving him in the hallway. A few minutes later she returned with 2 quivers, one in each hand, each filled with arrows. The wolf proudly held them up, a smile on her muzzle.

“I already have one of those,” Nick said

JayJay rolled her eyes and tilted the quivers so Nick could see the projectiles inside. He took an arrow out of one of them & examined it. At the head, the arrow didn’t widen before tapering to a point. The diameter of the shaft tapered to a point that looked like the head of a bullet.

“Bullet point arrows,” Nick said. “Impressive.”

JayJay nodded towards the other quiver, and the fox put the bullet point arrow back in its quiver & turned to the second one. Removing an arrow from this quiver, he saw that it had a very wide head that was jagged, and designed to inflict as much damage as possible. The arrow itself was also finely crafted, and extremely sharp.

“Death arrows,” Nick said, examining the object. “Expensive, but very finely made.”

“You can have one quiver.” JayJay said, “in return for 2 of those gazelle tickets.”

The fox rubbed his chin & thought for a moment.

“Death arrows”

Nick reached into his back pocket and produced 2 of the tickets. He passed them to JayJay, took the quiver of death arrows, and slung it over his shoulder.

“Front row, Judy and I will be there as well.”

The wolf looked at the tickets to make sure they were genuine, before thanking her ally & walking away. She was giddy with joy and practically jumped in the air as she went down the hallway.

“A pleasure doing business with you.” The fox said, looking at the quiver of death arrows.

JayJay immediately searched for her mate and discovered him in Toothdee’s cabin, the two were playing some game on their computers.

The wolf knocked on the wall, alerting the 2 to her presence.

“Alex, could I see you for a moment.”

The Heroes captain joined the wolf outside in the hall, noting that JayJay had a large smile on her face & was radiating excitement.

“What is it?”

“I have 2 tickets for the gazelle concert tonight, and I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.”

“I don’t know, large crowds aren’t my thing.”

“Please, I’d like to do something special with you, and I’ve told you how much I love dancing.” The Heroes leader thought for a moment, looking at JayJay’s face. She was smiling widely and her eyes were bright. The captain sighed and gave in, he couldn’t resist that adorable look of excitement.

“Ok, fine. If it would make you happy.”

“Yes!” JayJay said, pumping her fist in the air, before giving the human the ticket. “Ok, it’s in a couple of hours, come get me an hour before the show.”

“Will do,” Alex said, looking over the ticket, and returning to Toothdee.

000

A few hours later, it was not Alex who went and got JayJay, but rather JayJay who went and got Alex. She was very excited, and couldn’t wait any longer.

The pair caught a train to the stadium where Gazelle was singing and made small talk as they navigated through the crowd of mammals headed into the building. Out of either affection or not wanting to get separated, the Heroes captain took his mate’s paw in his hand. The female wolf smiled and leaned against the human’s shoulder. As the pair made their way into the stadium, they heard a familiar sound from behind them.

“Well, look who it is.”

Alex and JayJay turned to see Nick and Judy, walking up in the line behind them. The 2 had arms around each other, and both were dressed in casual, light fitting clothes. Even Nick, who usually only wore Hawaiian shirts.

“Alex? Didn’t think you’d be here,” Judy said.

“Well, someone wanted to do something special and fun with me.”

JayJay smiled happily at the comment.

“Aww, is it ok if we join you?”

“By all means.”

The 2 pairs merged into 1 group, but both couples still held onto each other as they continued to walk.

“Thank you for doing this.” Captain Boehm said, turning to the wolf on his shoulder.

“It’s my pleasure,” JayJay responded.

“Say, where did you get the tickets?”

JayJay pointed to Nick, who smiled slyly and played it cool.

“Ah, there we go. That explains everything.”

The arena was circular, with a circular platform at the center that the performer stood on. The platform was surrounded by water, both as a decorative measure, and a security measure. On the walls of the arena were dozens of small open windows, either so people inside could see out, or just part of an interesting design.

The group of four mammals found their spaces, which were in a pit, slightly below the platform where the performer stood. There were many other mammals all around them, but the spots were premium seating, or rather, standing.

After a few minutes, the arena darkened, and everyone grew silent. Water fountains activated, and lights turned on, as the figure of a female Gazelle in a glittering red dress came on stage, lifted onto the central platform by a small elevator in the stage.

“Hello, Zootopia!”

The crowd erupted into cheers, as the pop star began her first song.

Soon the melody picked up, and the 4 young heroes started to happily dance along. Dancing was much like combat, a beautiful display of movement and actions, perfectly in sync.

Just like when they were walking into the building, Judy and Nick danced together, while JayJay and Alex did the same.

The blue wolf was totally in her element, spinning and moving rapidly. The color and speed impressing her 3 companions.

Judy also pushed Nick along, silently prompting him to dance. The fox obliged and smiled slyly whenever he was encouraged to dance.

The 2 boys were not really as into the dancing at the girls, but they were still having fun, which was the most important thing.

All of a sudden, the lovely sound of the music was overpowered by a much louder noise, one that was like gas and sound moving extremely fast. Even Gazelle stopped singing and looked up to the top of the stadium, to see a large ball of fire engulfing part of the arena.

000000000

Sorry it took a while to get this chapter out. Blame my college work. Though I hope everyone still enjoys reading this!

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creativenicocorner · 5 years ago

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Lets half-ass a discussion about Merlin at 2 3am!

Stop me if you heard this one before:

An old man goes out into the world set firmly on a code for chivalry, going on an unending quest to do what he thinks is good, causing more problems in the process, making ladies uncomfortable, and did I mention making more problems? While the subtlety of reality passes over his head.

Now with that in mind Lets Talk About How Merlin’s character design reveals so much about him, and how I don’t think it isn’t a coincidence so many people associated that design to Don Quixote.

In fact the mere association to Don Quixote is a big tip that things aren’t what they seem, and I’m not just talking about seeing giants out of windmills, but rather how the perseption of the character Don Quixote has changed so much in the public consciousness.

That there is an intentional (I think) dissonance between expectation and reality.

Our first thoughts of Don Quixote is perhaps this fuddy duddy old guy on a quest to live out the adventures and chivalry of his books, and romanticizing said lessons while trying desperately to put them into practice.

From, The Man of La Mancha singing about Dreaming the Impossible Dream

youtube

Or to go even further the fuddy duddy old guy in the ballet interpretation of him, doing roughly the same thing although following the book a bit more, and yet conveniently dropping a few details ( for those interested you can find the full 2hour ballet with Natalia Osipova, with the choreography by Rudolph Nureyev, here [ x ] )

And maybe, if you’ll bare with me...maybe once Merlin did see himself as that, specific, Don Quixote does here...once...doing what is right and just...once believing himself to be this fantastical noble chivalric version of himself...truly believed it. Maybe at some point our Merlin got wrapped up in this preconceived notion of himself in the name of what he thought was right (his version of the chivalric code) blind to the consequences...and perhaps over time becoming not so blind to his actions the harder the ‘choices’ became and the ‘bigger the picture’ he saw.

Who’s to say? This bit we’ll just have to wait and see how the story pans out. (I’ll save the discussion and HC on how Merlin and Morgana are just like two gods messing with a giant chess board without paying too much care as to what happens to their chess pieces, for another time)

I don’t have the skill of screen shots, but there’s this...this moment of eerie stillness that is so weighty when Merlin has Jim tied up. No Dialogue. Just the two characters sitting in front of the other. That is just silence. A pause. A beat. Merlin can barely even look at Jim. Inviting the audience to reflect while Merlin reflects on how best to answer Jim’s question:

“Why me?”

And delivery wise? [ chef kiss ] amazing. The whole ordeal? With the fight and the cornering and the idea of choice that isn’t entirely there?

Like, all the power to the writers there to have me realize what a horrible situation this is. Like I was on edge and side eyeing this Merlin since he first woke up, from that stranger danger approach to Claire, how he spoke to Blinky and Strickler and just uugh lot of red flags.

AND YET

This show invited me to contemplate and sit in this situation with these two characters. If I could I’d shake all the writers hands. Like WOW what a horrible situation! I felt it!! Gutturally!! You did your job team, and I appreciate it and thank you. h e c k

Like what a moment to reveal (or rather show the last straw) this uncanny bad side to a character the public consciousness up to very recently and thanks to several tv adaptations and a few movies had us think Merlin is right off the back a good guy and WHAM the rug is pulled right out from under us and just WOW.

You know who else isn’t an all together great guy, who the public consciousness transformed into this fun old guy who means well and just wants to romanticize chivalry and a code long since gone Dreaming that Impossible Dream re-imagined into a tragic out of touch man?

Don Quixote. Well...Alonso Quixano to be more precise

I could go on but Overly Sarcastic Productions explains it with an eloquence far better than mine. Here’s a link to the video if it’s not working here [ x ]

youtube

Some neat take aways:

Don Quixote (written in 1605 by Miguel de Cervantes) was written as a critique and dissection of the at the time popular chivalric romance. Basically the Arthurian and expanded mythos.

The protagonist causes more problems than good to those around him. To the point other plots just fly over his head.

Dulcinea ( or rather how the protagonist treats women)

How the reality of the plot is so much more interesting and complex than the fantasy in Alonso’s mind

Duality.

Really, I invite everyone to check the video out it’s [ chef kiss ] neat!

tldr: I don’t think the character design choice was a coincidence, but intentional. As most character design choices are. After all character design is a way to describe a character visually to the audience in as blunt or as subtly as the creator needs. Yet here served as a sort of juxtaposition of two literary characters who both had their nature and how they were perceived change in the public consciousness over time (which is really neat to use story wise and keeping the audience on their toes, and use as a foreshadowing device .)

In one corner Merlin transforms from Welsh legend, to Christian Arthuriana be it half demon or advisor, to wise old helpful teacher, to what we have now

In the other Quixote transforms from a questionable old man used as a critique to the genera of chivalry, to opera and ballet centerpieces, to Dreaming the Impossible Dream and embodying fully that persona almost from the get go.

Now if the design choice is for this association in particular I’m not sure. For all I know there might be more information in the art book which I don’t own. Or something will come up in the story proper, which I’m very excited to see what will happen in Wizards! Where will this rollercoaster go?!

I don’t really know where I’m going with this. I guess I just find it fascinating how characters can be taken and changed through the public eye over time. Take the Wicked Witch of the West for example.

but I digress.

Tune in next time and I might half ass about Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Merlin, who, while also being a Roman Catholic Cleric, was inspired by local Welsh legends of Myrddin Wyllt (Myrddin the Wild by Elis Gruffydd a Welsh chronicler, transcriber, and translator) a poet and seer, who’s stories resemble that of a figure named Lailoken.

Or maybe it’s not that deep, but for now I think I’ll tap out of this rabbit hole.

#2 cents #Nico blabs into the void #I hope you had fun - and hopefully any of this made sense?#Trollhunters #Tales of Arcadia #Wizards

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hoodoo12 · 5 years ago

Text

Familial Ties (And How To Break Them) 7/14

Mature. Breaking into a church, new demons, violence ~

He only had rudimentary knowledge of Catholicism -- that was a total lie, he knew enough to stay the hell away from that group -- but Pate insisted on the holy water, saying it would be helpful, so he went along. At least in Vegas, even a church, no one batted an eye at his appearance. That was both disconcerting and dull.

Beetlejuice hung back as Pate spoke to the priest about obtaining holy water. He flipped through a Bible he found on one of the pews. It was the same drivel he vaguely remembered from the fifteenth century.

Suddenly, Pate was back at his side, grabbing his elbow tightly and frog marching him back out of the building. She was hissing something under her breath about "stupid priests" and "don't understand the gravity" as they made their way back onto the busy sidewalk of the Strip.

"Pate, baby, what the hell?"

She told him the priest didn't believe her, that he thought they were crazy, and he wouldn't even sell them the holy water. There were also a few choice words about the whole situation, and a literal spitting rant about how the priest had wanted to call the cops.

Beetlejuice cocked his head and told her very blandly, "Yes, you're right. No one would ever think we were totally in the right about this, and only sane people traipse into a church spouting information about hellmouths and the need for gallons of holy water to destroy them. That guy was obviously delusional."

He waited till she calmed down enough to realize he was pulling her chain, then took her hand.

"Fuck that priest," he announced loudly. Only a few people passing by looked over at that. "You want that holy water? We'll just come back tonight and take it. Done and done."

Before she could muster the indignation to get angry with him, a grin broke out on Beetlejuice’s face that he quickly wiped away but it was enough to make her realize he was teasing her. Pate leveled a deadpan scowl at him and flashed him the bird, but it only made him snicker like a middle schooler before he composed himself and assured her that they’d come back that night. Though she did have her misgivings about breaking into let alone stealing from a church, she also didn’t have any better ideas about where or how to get holy water or how they’d kill the hellmouth without it. So she agreed.

There was a 24-hr diner a couple blocks over where they went to wile away the last few hours before the church closed. By nightfall, Pate had probably consumed two carafes’ worth of coffee by herself, not that the tired-looking waitress seemed to care about the half dozen used mugs on the table around her. She was much more perturbed by Beetlejuice reaching over the partition into the cooking area and grabbing a container of syrup, which he proceeded to drink straight from the spout. Pate hurriedly paid for them and hustled him out, muttering apologies.

Even after dark the streets of Las Vegas were far from empty, they might be even more vibrant and busy than they’d been during the day. But down the street where the church was located, things appeared quiet as the two of them approached the building, dark but for the light that shone through a beautiful stained-glass window at the front.

“A place like this has gotta have a security system,” Pate mused aloud. “Any ideas on how we get in?”

With a confident smirk, Beetlejuice loudly cracked his knuckles.

“Please, babe, give me a challenge at least!”

He cast a quick look around, as if searching for something, his gaze settling on a utility pole. Glancing back over his shoulder to waggle his eyebrows at her, he made a quick swiping motion with his hand, growling low in his throat as he did. Immediately there was a loud electrical snap and a shower of sparks fell from the transformer atop the pole. The stained-glass window went dark as the light inside abruptly switched off. As did the lights in a few adjacent buildings, the entire corner now swathed in shadows.

He turned back to face her, adjusting the cuffs of his suit jacket and gesturing with both hands like a stage magician who’d just performed a particularly mystifying illusion. Pate hummed in approval, clapping her hands with only a little irony.

“Impressive. What else can you do?”

"Oh, I can make lots of sparks fly, baby," he replied off-handedly, "but here on the street that'll get us arrested even in Sin City. Come on, I'll boost you up. You get in there, grab the water, and we're golden. You brought something to carry it in, right?"

Pate shrugged, dislodging the shoulder strap of a hydration pack she’d brought from home.

“From my hiking phase,” she informed him with a grin. “Can your demon magic jimmy the lock on the window?”

Beetlejuice simply snapped his fingers and even from where they stood Pate heard the tell tale click of the lock springing open. He moved past her, backing against the wall and lacing his fingers together for her to step in. Pate tried to be gentle, grasping his shoulders to keep steady as he hoisted her to the window. It gave easily, sliding open and permitting her to wriggle in.

It looked like a classroom, so she found her way to the sanctuary where she’d glimpsed a ceremonial basin on their earlier trip. Naturally it was empty, they must fill it only when needed. Which meant it had to come from somewhere. Pate headed for the pastor’s office, rummaging in desk drawers and the closet and filing cabinet until she unearthed a clear plastic bottle with a label that read “Consecrated Holy Water from the river Jordan.”

Perfect!

She went ahead and took the whole bottle, pushing a chair against the wall to boost her back to the sill.

“Score!” she called quietly to Beetlejuice, dropping the bottle into his waiting hands.

He caught the dropped bottle, set it down, and stretched upward to help Pate down from the window. He let his hands squeeze and linger on her backside for an extra moment; if accused of being inappropriate he'd just use the excuse he wanted to make sure she didn't stumble as she came back down to the sidewalk. He nodded at the bottle he'd set down.

"Good. Now can we get back to the hotel? Big day tomorrow. You're gonna need your rest, I want you on your back--" he said, but was cut off by gasp from her.

She flashed him a knowing grin when she felt his fingers gripping her ass, bracing her outstretched arms against his shoulders again as she dropped back down to the ground, his hands resting on her hips, hers still laid atop his shoulders. Pate rolled her eyes at his lurid talk, smiling even as she shook her head when something beyond him caught her eye.

Darkness still enveloped the corner around the church, maybe the whole block, but she could see movement. After a moment her eyes picked out a four legged shape, slinking cautiously across the road towards them as if wary of their presence. It looked like a dog at first glance, but as it drew closer she realized it was massive, three feet tall at least, with a large squarish head, low slung neck and humped shoulders like a hyena. It also appeared to have no fur or ears, drooping jowls dripping with saliva and eyes that gleamed.

She gasped harshly, realizing all at once that the eyes were not reflecting light because there was no light. Whatever this creature was, its large round eyes were glowing.

"What is that?" she whispered.

"--eh?" Beetlejuice replied, slightly annoyed something else had caught her attention when it should've been his. But her hands had become tight on his shoulders, and it wasn't in a good way. He turned to see what she could possibly be looking at.

The skulking shape even gave him a start, and his cold blood ran colder.

"Dziban," he said in a choked voice.

Suddenly, he wasn't sure what to do. He could get out of here, but didn't know if he could pull Pate through the ether with him, and like their distantly related-cousins the Hounds of Tindalos, they could travel through it too. Boost her back up into the church? Just fucking run? Frozen by indecision was a poor choice, but no option was a good one.

For Beetlejuice of all people to sound thoroughly shaken seemed a bad sign. The creature--Dziban, he'd called it?-- was skulking closer, peering at them with its gaping, pupil-less eyes. It looked emaciated, the mange-dark skin pulled tight over every bone and muscle. Pate shivered, her hands tightening on Beetlejuice's shoulders at the disturbingly human front paws, the toes as long as her own fingers and tipped with claws that clacked on the pavement as it padded ever nearer.

"Beej, what do we do?" she gulped, almost more frightened of this beast than she had been of the specter's malevolent sibling.

"You're going to go. Just put your head down and get the fuck out of here," he told her fiercely. No time for pithy comments now. He kept his eyes on the vaguely canid creature padding closer. "Rigel called Dziban out of that fucking book. I'm sure he sent it after me, so I'll keep it distracted."

He risked a look at her.

"Pate, just go!"

In the second he'd taken his eyes off Dziban, it'd covered a third of the block. He'd forgotten they could slip through corporeal space too. With its lipless mouth, it looked like it was smiling at the two of them, even as a thin tongue slipped between its teeth to test the air.

"Seriously, baby, you've gotta go!"

Beetlejuice put a hand on her shoulder and pushed as he stepped between her and the creature.

Her heart was hammering like she'd sprinted a mile already, watching the thing close the distance between them. She stood paralyzed on shaking legs, unable to follow Beetlejuice's command even if she wanted to. Fear had its talons in her, but she dithered, torn between giving in to her body's own instinct to run like a terrified rabbit or the compulsion to find some sort of weapon to protect herself and him.

When he positioned himself protectively in front of her, giving her shoulder a stiff shove to get her moving, it seemed the decision was made. She turned to bolt and was met with another pair of brightly glowing eyes and exposed teeth. She screamed and backpedaled away from a second creature.

Fucking fuck fuck fuck!

How could he have been so fucking stupid not to remember Dziban travelled in a fucking pair?!

At Pate's scream Beetlejuice spun, saw the second Dziban, and grabbed her. Pulling her off balance, he shoved her against the wall of the church, keeping himself between her and the creatures as best as possible. They had the two of them flanked, and they were going to play with them like prey, and drag them back to the Netherworld maybe alive but mostly dead.

Again without taking the time to give her any indication what he was going to do, he spun, grabbed Pate again, and shoved her upwards towards the broken window again.

"Get the fuck in!" he ordered, even as the first creature took the opportunity to rush him.

Pate gave a startled yelp when Beetlejuice seized her around the waist and all but threw her back at the window which she had neglected to close. Hands and arms scrabbling for purchase, she just managed to catch herself when his supporting hands left her, her ears filled with hellish snarls and growls. Contorting awkwardly, half in and half out of the window, Pate turned to see that one of the monsters had charged at Beetlejuice while the other remained fixated on her.

He just barely had the time to hoist her upward before Dziban was on him. He twisted as it launched itself at him; it was large enough to easily reach his throat but he managed to deflect it from its goal with his shoulder instead. Still, that got it close enough for purchase with its hands, and he had to grapple it while off balance. Pate still hadn't pulled herself fully into the church! He decided it was dark enough and plus the fact that fucking hellhounds were attacking them a few extra otherworldly phenomenon wasn't going to break any tourist's brain any further, so instead of trying to fend off the beast with the two most human hands he owned, the black tentacles erupted from the ether and wrapped around Dziban. They lent shadow mass to him as well, and helped stabilize him a little.

It hurt grabbing this thing; why did every fucking creature from the Netherworld have some weird extra ability?! Dziban were angry, hungry creatures and of course they had poisonous skin like goddamn frogs too! Why wouldn't that be the case?! he thought bitterly as the tentacles holding it most tightly ached and became weaker.

It still bit and scratched and that hurt too.

And Pate still wasn't through that goddamned window!

She tried to keep an eye on Beetlejuice as she squatted uncomfortably in the open window while also keeping the second hellhound occupied. She whistled to it like it really was just an overgrown border collie, letting her arm dangle down as low as she dared to tantalize it into keeping its attention on her.

When Dziban raised itself onto its hind legs to snap at her, she jerked her hand back, whimpering quietly when its horrifically humanoid paws gouged furrows down the cement wall. Turning her attention back to Beetlejuice she could see the writhing shadowy tentacles she had first glimpsed when they fought with Rigel in her apartment. They were wrapped around the hellhound's body, holding its clawed paws and snapping jaws at bay while others coiled around its throat, squeezing tighter and tighter until the beast's struggling started to weaken.

As if homing in on its twin's distress, the second hound turned toward the demon, growling. She wanted to call him, to warn him, but she worried that if she distracted him now the other hellhound might break free. With a tiny gasp she remembered the bottle tucked under her arm, whipping the cap off with fumbling fingers and holding it out as far as she could reach, dripping an uninterrupted stream down Dziban's back.

The hellhound flinched and snarled, shaking itself very much like a regular dog, but was otherwise unaffected and Pate's heart sank into her stomach like a lead weight.

“Consecrated Holy Water from the river Jordan my ass!”

It took more concentration and strength to effectively keep teeth and nails off him, especially feeling the effects of whatever venom the thing was secreting, but his tentacles held tight and slowly, slowly, Dziban's life slipped away. With a feral grin on his face, it gave him almost orgasmic joy to see the light fading from the creature's pupil-less eyes, even as it continued to snap and scrabble at him. A sudden splashing of water startled him, but the tentacles knew their work and continued slowly crushing. Pate's yell was more distracting, and he didn't catch what she'd said, so he turned to see what was happening.

In his moment of distraction, the beast he held struggled mightily so he turned back to focus on it again. That was enough to give the second Dziban--or the same Dziban, weren't they fucking clones or hiveminds or something?!--enough opportunity to leap forward and grab him.

Not by a tentacle, not by his suit: the hellhound's jaws closed on his shoulder and upper arm, and Beetlejuice went to his knees in agony.

"BEEJ!" she screamed, horrified, too far away to do anything other than spectate as the hellhound sank its teeth into his shoulder.

Goddammit, she had to do something! Craning to look over her shoulder back into the church, eyes searching desperately for something, anything she could use to fight them off him. There was a tall decorative cross of gilded, gold colored metal set in a stand. Struggling to lower her legs back down to the chair, Pate raced across the room, snatched the processional cross in both hands and ran back to the window, hauling herself up and pulling the pole with her.

Without Beetlejuice there to catch her, the drop back down to the ground looked much more daunting, but she took a breath and jumped. A painful jolt rocketed from her ankles to her knees and she pitched forward, catching herself on her elbows with a pained grunt. Getting to her feet, Pate gripped the standard tightly in both hands and raced forward, jabbing at the hellhound's ribs with the pointed end of the metal cross.

"Get the fuck off him!"

He had to get up. No fucking way was he going to be dragged down by fucking Rigel's fucking beasts! Beetlejuice snarled wordlessly and refused to loosen his grip on Dziban number one. It was fading fast. The second he tried to twist away from, to protect his head and neck, and then, from nowhere, a metal pole slammed into the creature, staggering it and forcing it to release him.

Pate looked scared and fierce, but she shouldn't be here--!

She obviously didn't get the message. She swung whatever that pole was, barely missing his head, and stabbed at Dziban again. Whether it was the metal it was made of or the fact it was a religious artifact, it made the hellhound jump back a bit. It gave a whiney, snarly noise that had no earthly equivalent, and it faded away. The one he had grappled also slipped away like water in cupped hands. Beetlejuice wasn't sure if he'd killed it or it was taken by its kin.

It was suddenly too quiet, and pain caught up to him. He was glad he was still on his knees, because he would have probably collapsed if he hadn't been.

Just as suddenly as they'd appeared, the hellbeasts seemed to evaporate like fog burnt away by sunlight. Pate's chest was still heaving, her blood singing in her ears and her heart thumping a frantic tattoo in her chest. Not sure if the demon hounds may come back, she kept a tight hold on her improvised weapon and lowered herself on trembling legs next to Beetlejuice. His pale face was somehow even paler, eyes pinched shut and jaw clenched in obvious pain.

She exhaled a quiet string of expletives at the sight of the dark liquid seeping through his fingers, gripped tightly around the bite wound on his shoulder.

"Can you stand up?" she asked softly and after a moment he swallowed hard and gave her a stiff nod, shifting his feet and rising a little unsteadily.

Pate stood with him, one arm held out as if to catch him if he lost his balance. She was loathe to drop the processional cross but she needed both arms, positioning herself under his uninjured arm and taking it around her shoulders while her own arm wrapped around his waist to help support him.

"I've got you," she murmured, uttering other meaningless soothing words to him as they limped back towards the hotel.

tbc . . .

#writing #fanfiction #Beetlejuice #Beetlejuice x OC #rp #Beetlejuice based on Blumjuice

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otonymous · 5 years ago

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Your first time headcanons for Ikesen Masamune and Yukimura are amazing!!! I really love reading them! Not because I’m a horny mf (okay maybe) but they’re really well written and really embody the characters. Would you do one for Kenshin to please?

Hi dear Anon and @dani677! Thank you both so much for your comments and asks! 💕 I’ve combined the answers since your questions are so similar, so get ready for A LOT of reading!

And don’t worry dear Anon, when it comes to Kenshin, I am also a horny MF 😂 Hope you both enjoy these HCs!

Warnings: NSFW/18+: explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised. Slight spoilers for Kenshin’s MS. Potential trigger warning: bondage.

Even Gods Fall in Love: Intimacy, First Times & Erotic Triggers for Uesugi Kenshin (Ikesen HC)

Make love, not war: How does it feel to lie with the God of War?

Sex with Kenshin is INTENSE like the man himself

Light-hearted is not in his vocabulary, and love making is no exception

It is a serious, passionate affair, practically a spiritual experience — two separate entities coming together physically and spiritually to become one — think Tantric sex

Hence, quickies are really not his style, but all the same, he will never pass up the opportunity to have sex with you

In fact, Kenshin doesn’t do casual sex. He doesn’t have a particularly high sex drive (unless he’s in a committed relationship), and would rather go without than sleep with someone he had no feelings for

Once he’s found that special someone however, watch out because he’ll be down to dip his wick 24/7 (why do you think rabbits are so inexplicably drawn to him?!)

He can and will go wherever, whenever — it doesn’t matter as long as no one else can see your naked perfection (or else they can kiss their eyes goodbye)

Once Kenshin has decided you’re the one, he will love you forever and a day. Even something as trivial as death could never alter his love for you 10000% would watch over you as a ghost if he passes first

It’s no secret that the man’s thoughts can border on obsession, especially when it comes to you. And although he is trying to overcome it, his past has left him irrevocably scarred. He still struggles with an intense fear of losing you and it leaves him feeling lost and helpless, something he finds difficult to accept — it is at times like these that love making will be crucial in helping him get a grip

So while he has moved beyond keeping you safe by locking you up in a cell or his castle (thank god), the act of physical intimacy is the one area where he can feel as deeply connected to you, physically and spiritually, as possible

It is as if the man wants to become one with you in the truest sense of the word, his alone to love and protect forever

Therefore, sex with Kenshin would both reflect and encourage this sense of bonding

His favourite positions will be ones where he can hold you as close to him as possible while he’s buried deeply in you: Missionary, Side-By-Side, Lotus, Spooning (basically any position where he can fuck you with as much skin-to-skin and eye contact as possible)

There’s a real need for Kenshin to feel every single twitch of pleasure in your body, sense the heat emanating from your skin every time your precious heart beats to send the blood rushing through your veins

Look into his eyes, for he will always be seeking yours. And try not to gasp when you see the vulnerability in those tender pools of blue and green. Kenshin will bare his soul to you and only you. And nowhere do his walls crumble faster than when you’re making love

A single session can cycle from love making that’s tender, gentle and sweet to something that’s absolutely primal and unbridled, and then back again. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Kenshin’s love embodied in a song: “Truly, Madly, Deeply” by Savage Garden

First Kiss:

Kenshin will have his eyes open for most of it, if not all

The man doesn’t want to miss a thing. He wants to see every reaction: the pink that suffuses your cheeks, the barely perceptible flutter of your eyelashes, the slight lift of your brows in euphoria

He is trying to sear the moment into his mind — life is so ephemeral, he often feels like memories are all he has; that try as he might, they’re the only things he can hold onto

Hence, Kenshin engages all of his senses when he kisses you (or is intimate with you in general) to commit as much colour and detail to memory as possible

He is drunk on the smell of your skin, the warm silkiness of your lips, the taste of your mouth, the blooms of crimson on your cheeks, the breathless whimpers that reach his ears — all that you are is this man’s greatest aphrodisiac

The kiss starts off delicately slow: gentle presses, the soft brushing of lips against each other, mouths tentatively opening to accept hesitant licks from shy tongues

Kenshin will drop tiny kisses at the corners of your lips, and you will never have felt so cherished before in your life

He needs to touch you, feel you under his skin: his long, elegant fingers — which never shook when wielding the weight of his blade — will tremble as they move to frame your face, weave through your hair, circle the shell of your ears. Kiss his hands as they’re tracing the line of your jaw and you’ll have him in the palm of your hand (as if you didn’t already)

Then, the kiss grows in intensity as Kenshin suddenly becomes ravenous: his tongue is pushing further into your mouth, greedily exploring and tasting every inch, testing your limits until you need to gently push him away so you can breathe again

Seeing him in this moment, it strikes you once again just how ethereally beautiful the man is: fair hair falling over delicate features, eyes so dark with desire they almost mask his heterochromia, flushed cheeks that naturally draw the eyes to the masculine lines of his sharp jaw

Perhaps he really is a god amongst men

You barely have a chance to inhale before his lips are on yours again, passionately insistent as his tongue pushes at the seam of your mouth, begging for re-entry

Pack your Sengoku era equivalent of chapstick and be prepared for swollen lips: Kenshin will be kissing you for a very, very long time

Declaration of Love:

Kenshin will be the first to say “I love you,” and he will tell you early on in your relationship

It is rare for Kenshin to find someone he deems worthy of his time and attention, and even rarer for him to fall in love

Once he does though, he falls hard and will not hesitate to try and get what he wants — the man is incredibly straight-forward and doesn’t play games

If he loves you, you will know it, by way of both action and words

You are initially taken aback when the Lord of Echigo tells you he loves you within the first week of your relationship

This is no dramatic declaration and there is no prior planning. Kenshin simply says what he feels as he wanders the streets of Kasugayama’s castle town with you

“I love you.”

Surprised, you turn to him, thinking it impossible for Kenshin to be serious when you’ve barely spent enough time together to be able to judge whether or not you truly love a person. Surely, he must be mistaking infatuation or the excitement of a new relationship with love…

But then you see the look in his eyes and are struck dumb

The light in his soft gaze is wise beyond his years, reasoned and measured, tempered by some mysterious intelligence that speaks to the truth of his words: the God of War loves you — you are the first and will be the last person to ever make him feel this way. The strength of his conviction shakes you to your core, and you know that you cannot, will not, ever doubt him again

Kenshin wasn’t expecting an answer from you, he just wanted you to know the extent of his feelings and the sincerity of his intentions

So he is absolutely beside himself with happiness when you respond in kind — it is more than he could ever wish for

The First Night:

Although Kenshin was quick to tell you he loved you, he will be excruciatingly slow to take you to bed

You will partake in hot and heavy make-out sessions: tons of kissing, lots of heavy petting and grinding up against each other for hours on end but still NO SEX

You’re so pent up you accidentally snapped at Shingen (and then apologized profusely when you saw the crestfallen look on his face)

At first, you’ll wonder if it’s something you said or did. Even worse, you’ll start to wonder whether Kenshin has fallen out of love with you.

But when you finally gather up your courage to broach the subject with him, you’ll discover that he was holding back out of fear of breaking you with the intensity of his love and feelings

Cradle his face between your hands as you solemnly whisper that you need him to fuck you immediately or else you will expire on the spot

Invite him to assess the sturdiness of your body for himself by running his hands up and down your body. Tell him to seek proof that you’re stronger than you appear, and that the only thing that would break is your will to hold back any longer should nothing continue to happen

The God of War goes slack-jawed when you suddenly undress before him, but the shock only lasts for a second before the fire ignites in his eyes. Your breath hitches at the sight, for it reminds you of the way Kenshin looks on the battlefield in the middle of a particularly good fight: he is a man possessed, so singularly focused on his goal the rest of the world could crumble around him and it would be nothing more than a mere annoyance. During times of war, he’s acting on an instinct to kill. But here, the vision of you bared before him stirs some other primal desire that incites him to claim you, ravish you…ruin you for anyone else by making you irrevocably his

And when you finally see him fully naked for the first time, it is your turn to be speechless: you’ve always figured Kenshin would be fit beneath his clothes, but the man looks like Michelangelo’s David come to life, and despite the odd battle scar here and there, his skin is incredibly fair (yes, we are jealous, and stop staring, the man is staring to blush)

Kenshin’s hands are cool on your skin, as they’ve always been. But this is offset by the blazing heat of his mouth and tongue roaming across the surfaces of your body

Kenshin really wants to know everything about you and will take his time finding out. Just lay back, relax and enjoy watching and feeling Kenshin explore every part of your body with his mouth, tongue and fingers

You find proof of the God of War’s divinity when he goes down on you: Kenshin’s oral skills are so damn good, they transport you straight to heaven. You almost black out when he adds his long, deft fingers into the mix

By the time Kenshin is finally ready to penetrate you, you are so impatient with desire that you’ve wrapped your legs tightly around his waist and are rubbing up on him like it’s nobody’s business

The man must know a thing or two about the wonders of delayed gratification because when he finally enters you, the anticipation has got you so aroused and swollen with desire that every move he makes within you has got you screaming into the bedclothes like a madwoman. But don’t worry, Kenshin looooves it when you get loud for him 😏

If you thought the intercourse itself would be anything like Kenshin’s foreplay — soft, slow and sweet — you are in for a surprise

Sure, it starts off that way. Kenshin does want you to be able to handle his above-average length after all, so he will give you the opportunity to acclimatize to the sensation of feeling full to bursting with him inside you

But once you do, the God of War will be holding you close, looking deeply into your eyes and dropping tender kisses on your face and neck as he jackhammers into you (is it even humanly possible for hips to move that fast? You have half a mind to ask Sasuke in the most discreet way possible afterwards)

Dimensions: Kenshin’s cock is as beautiful as he is. Above-average length and average girth. But the way he uses it is anything but average

Just when you think he is on the verge of cumming, Kenshin will pull back into gentle, unhurried love making — the man is the undisputed KING of prolonged orgasms (a single session can last for hours)

Things will get messy — yes, you will have to change the bedclothes before finally retiring for the night (when you actually get a chance to sleep — see above)

If you allowed it, the man would definitely prefer to cum in you, as he views the act as the pinnacle of intimacy and bonding. What better way to become one than by actually leaving a part of himself deep within you?

Aftercare: stay where you are and don’t move a muscle. Taking care of you after you’ve been intimate is a point of pride for Kenshin. Not like you’d be able to move anyways after that pounding. You know what, take the next morning off too.

Erotic Triggers/Kinks:

Body worship: Kenshin especially loves the areas which are particularly delicate and vulnerable, like the nape of your neck, your hands and fingers, your ankles

Absolutely lives for you to sit on his face — the man can go for hours

Loves, loves, loves your lips. Loves to stare at them while you speak and is entranced by how nimbly expressive they are, changing from smiles and smirks to frowns and pouts with ease. He loves their smoothness, their warmth, their taste, their colour. Just another reason why this man adores kissing you

Has a love/hate relationship with bondage: Kenshin knows he cannot and should not keep you under lock and key like he initially tried to, but he also cannot help but feel incredibly aroused at the sight of you so beautifully tied up and entirely at his mercy. You’ll have to convince him that this is something you enjoy doing as well, explain to him that the existence of mutual consent and understanding makes this a completely different situation from being involuntarily imprisoned, and introduce him to the concept of boundaries and “safewords”

Good conversation is actually Kenshin’s biggest trigger. The man could spend hours on end just talking with you, learning to see the world in an entirely new way through your eyes.

Your take on the meaning of life, happiness and sorrow is so foreign to Kenshin that he is absolutely fascinated by you

Because of this, the sound of your voice has turned into an erotic trigger for him

Talk dirty to him. Nothing gets the God of War off faster than your voice gasping into his ear that you belong to him now and forever as he’s pounding you to within an inch of your life

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