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#my art has the same time frame of completion as missing person cases have for finding the person
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I actually finished something I started months ago
That genuinely never happens
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emotionalhxc · 5 months
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PART 2: Strawberry Hospital Instagram Q&A Q: Also do you like Sky Eats Airplane? Some of your songs give me the same vibe
N: "lowkey in shock that this band was brought up to me because they were (partially) the reason I found out what a DAW was in the first place because I read some interview of theirs back then describing their method of creation or something formative memories of listening to this one on a school computer in 5th grade" Q: When making an EP, do you usually have a "concept" or "vibe" before making the songs? N: "mostly! it is typically reflective of whatever sonic fixations I had in the years preceding the release itself + a culmination of whatever emotions are stirred up by life circumstances once I have that intersection pinned down, it begins to take a form of its own"
Q: Is there a story behind the Phantasmaphilia album art? It's so mesmerizing *0* N: "indeed ! the dead insects themselves were found outside of where I was living during the completion of the album, around this time of year. myself and some old friends collected them and brought them inside to scan in for the sake of the cover artwork. as for the bathtub image source, I am actually not holding my own legs but another person (out of frame) but we were wearing swimming trunks haha I wanted to create a feeling of ghostly vulnerability and I appreciate said old friends for helping me realize my vision at the time" Q: your music heals me and makes life bearable, thank you from the bottom of my heart. ❤️‍🩹 N: "I am so so grateful... thank you for sharing with me, it keeps me pushing forward knowing that my music reached you in the same way that other music heals me too (hug)"
Q: Squall. I love that song so much. I would love to hear your reasons for that song. N: "oh yes Squall! I wrote that for an internet friend who lived somewhere that was basically a perpetual snowstorm, I would stay up late talking with them and it meant very much to me during that period of time to me, the flurry of splittercore kicks and icy trance lead melodies reminded me of a blizzard" Q: How did you get your name? N: "strawberry hospital? or neptune? I'll answer both! strawberry hospital was intended to follow the naming trend of many bands and artists I grew up with, but also represent the otherwise polarizing thematic elements (bittwersweetness) and stylings present within the music and lyrics my name Neptune is chosen but I have kept it for over a decade now, it reminds me of the ocean and a cold planet very far away from here"
Q: Ilysm I sry if this is a dumb q but are the songs on halfawake all vocaloid or ur voice N: "awe no questions are dumb! the original release is exclusively vocaloid as I was too anxious to include my own singing in my songs in 2016. but the live version of the song is special, because I sing the chorus with my own voice instead. other albums feature a combination of my own voice and vocaloid (with exceptions)" Q: what is your bowling ball size? N: "this question is so unrelated I love it... so I cannot bowl to save my life and maybe I'm missing a double meaning here but they say a bowling ball should be 10% of your own weight right? in that case, like 12? I am unfortunate epitome of gay people failing at sports stereotype"
Q: what's your personal favorite song you've ever release?? 🖤 N: "Halfawake, Memento, Phantoma, Azure, Rhythm 0" Q: so like whats next for uu? N: "I'd love to play a few more shows before the year ends... maybe an international one? we shall see... otherwise trying to explore new forms for the project to take, I never want to reiterate what has already been established to the point of monotony heh" Q: I really love Tacit ❤️ and would love to know what it's about N: "Tacit is an apology for not being able to fulfill the role of what somebody would like you to be for them. not exactly a hard rejection but an assuring one (if such a thing exists) ... sometimes you need to use your head over your heart? I struggled with this at times p.s. it was heavily influenced by the haibane renmei OST!"
Q: Would you ever go on a tour! Californian fan here and I love you and your music :D N: "it will happen someday I am certain, playing a show in California feels obligatory (in a good way) plus I have had a few invitations from fellow musician friends that I need to take them up on" CONTINUED INTO PART 3 ON MY NEXT POST
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capesandshapes · 2 years
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i feel like i missed something, why is Sarah Z bad?
A lot of it for me personally has nothing to do with the accusations of racism aimed towards her (which I can't substantiate because I don't know anything about it so while I agree racism is a problematic behavior, I literally can't say jack about it with her) and is more to do with the fact that while I enjoy analyzing fan culture, I really don't like Sarah z's approach to gathering content for her arguments nor the way that she's never been one to correct any of her statements or actively try to discourage harassment
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With this video in particular there was a lot of controversy about her picking and choosing posts from creators while editing them down and eliminating the context around them, which caused a lot of creators to end up in hot water which she was hesitant to correct-- and it really wasn't the first time for her.
The fandom made character in Sherlock video too is another moment where to me it's just like okay you're eliminating a ton of context (BECAUSE I WAS LITERALLY THERE) and trying to sensationalize/turn this less into a moment of laughing at what was then A VERY VERY SMALL PORTION THE SHERLOCK COMMUNITY without anyone actually knowing how this like kicked off or anything.
Like this isn't a very articulate way for me to explain this or anything, but in the case of Sarah z and YouTubers like her, we as fans of various media are their content and they get to be an outsider looking in at us and open another window in at the same time, only further narrowing and reframing the view for entertainment. We're animals in a zoo and she's the tour guide, and we can't say shit to correct her because we're far enough from her audience that we can't touch them, but they can throw peanuts and pens into our enclosure while she watches but does nothing to help.
A very current way to explain this is that in the case of goncharov and Tumblr, Sarah z and other fandom YouTubers are likely rubbing their little hands giggling about the content that would bring-- which I understand, completely! She makes money off of us, I get it! But she makes more money off of us the stranger she makes the situation seem, and the more she can hype it up, to the point where she has an incentive to do things like omit the fifty million text posts stating that no one wants a goncharov written and then go "oh look there's ninety different versions of this movie written, isn't it crazy that people would do that over and over again" while pointing to the AO3 tag and cherry picking examples that aren't even scripts or anything like that, and then over exaggerating again the amount of fanart and full on time consuming work that went into the goncharov meme-- because fun fact, the majority of it is just shit posts and while a handful of people have put art to it, I can guarantee it won't be as much as portrayed by YouTubers.
Like again it's really really hard for me to explain but I not only know people in fandom who have been poorly portrayed in her videos (as well as creators on TikTok whose faces were OUT THERE and whose posts were manipulated to be online with a framing that was far from the truth), but I've also personally become content for people when I really don't want to be and was just hanging out here. So while it's cool at first and I scooped up some TikTok originating followers, it got annoying real quick because their idea of my content and who I am was provided by someone who stood to gain from misrepresenting me which led to more negative interactions and hurtful anons that just fucking sucked-- I'm a fanfiction author who makes shit posts at the end of the day, not a political commentary blog, but for some reason tiktokers wanted to act like capesandshapes from nowhere Minnesota with like fifty shitty trash posts was one of the dozen Tumblr bloggers who have real hot takes that people need to know about politics from Tumblr. Everyone laugh about the fact that a girl with a Glimmer icon has opinions on gun control but can't recite the whole arms manufacturing history at the drop of a hat.
Like that's my personal reason, I'm not content for her or her YouTube channel and I don't really want to be framed any sort of way for her to profit off of me-- which sounds egotistical and conceited, I know; "why would she choose you," but the majority of people who show up in her videos aren't exactly planning on being the subject of the YouTube thinkpiece of the week.
I'd honestly block more YouTubers like her if I knew their handles.
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littlenim · 2 years
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was writing this out in the tags of the chuck tingle post I just rb'd as a means of explaining a point i feel was being missed by a few people in the tags, but realized it was getting way too cumbersome. left it there but i also kinda wanted to expand even more because i have lots of strong passionate feelings... sooooooooo, readmore...
for something that really impacted the way i frame the "separating the art from the artist" discussion i cannot recommend enough Emily Nussbaum's essay on her relationship to Louis CK and Woody Allen's work in her book I Like To Watch. it's a super personal and thoughtful take on a complex concept that I think often gets misunderstood and discussed without much nuance (the rest of the book focuses more on specific pieces of art and is super enjoyable to me as someone who loves film criticism.)
i think it's valuable in that her essay frames the core of the question "can you?" the same way that chuck does here and separates from the externally-driven choice to project a kind of morality (which is noble thing when you know the result of supporting the thing is harm in itself, regardless of whether or not you innately dislike the art in itself). a personal example, choosing not to purchase/stream new Kanye West music/merch/events while still listening to your old download/CD of Yeezus because you enjoy it.
from the completely internal "in the closest thing to a vacuum can i still get joy out of consuming this, or will my knowledge of the creator/circumstances of its creation hinder that?" which is in itself so simple, and yet is an aspect i feel people who ask other people these kind of simple "am i still allowed to enjoy x" questions haven't examined for themselves. this isn't meant to shame, these questions online come out of an understandable, natural, fear of social pressure, but they're revealing of insecurity/lack of faith in the asker's own values. but it's really that simple!
there's no way to remove information from your mind once it is there, the media-enjoyment vacuum doesn't exist. there's no vacuum where you're safe from the knowledge you already have and there IS a certain point where that knowledge will render you less able to enjoy something you may have once loved. it's a sad feeling! trust me- I was a huge HP fan growing up, and the love didn't just instantly vanish the second JKR started on her BS. but over time, the weight of everything did diminish the love in a way 10 year old me would never have believed was possible, with how strong and all-consuming it was then.
it was exactly like the feeling of falling out of love with a person who broke your heart. for some lucky people, in some cases, maybe it happens instantly, but in my experience it takes time. you still love them, and it might take weeks, months, a year to TRULY get over it. it sucks. but being betrayed and disappointed by someone you loved is unfortunately an unavoidable cost of growing older and wiser.
Emily talks in that essay about going back and re-watching the Louis show after everything about him starting to break, convinced she'd still enjoy it, and finding that there was an undeniable stain she could feel spreading on it, coloring scenes she'd have previously found innocuous in new light. almost against the will of the fan within herself, her perspective on art that has once meant a lot to her shifted in a natural and complicated way. i'm paraphrasing and simplifying very small parts of a very lengthy and complicated piece of writing (so please read it if you get the chance).
when you consume that media, only your heart can determine where the scales tip and the media becomes unenjoyable, and it's nobody's business but your own. nobody's asking you to try to change your own feelings on beloved art at the drop of a hat, they're just asking that you open yourself to them being changed. chances are, your feelings will come to align with your values in time- and even if they never fully do, you still have the gift of free will to choose what you give your support and praise to. so, basically, worry less.
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absentia-if · 3 years
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hi hi i just wanted to come here and say that i'm extremely excited for this IF!! i was hooked from the very first time i saw the intro post and it quickly became one of my most anticipated reads. can't wait till it comes out <3
any fun facts you'd like to share about the ROs? :D
Thank you so much!!! I’m so honored to hear that 💞.
Kade/Kara:
Had been in a relationship with you since high school (the later years) but, before that, they were in a relationship with M. (A little bit more context on M’s quote in the pinned post.)
When they were first told that you were missing, and probably dead, they didn’t want to believe it. They were an absolute wreck for two months (refusing to leave the house, crying, etc). They had to be stopped from looking for you in the woods multiple times.
Has a major fear of rollercoasters because of the heights but absolutely loves going rock climbing…
Still wears their wedding ring around their neck, right next to yours as that was one of the only things they found of yours, and refuses to take it off. No matter what.
On your anniversary they visit your grave and watch your wedding video on their phone… reminiscing about happier times when they still had you by their side.
Michael/Margot:
Is a doctor within Aurora and they absolutely love their job. They work with children and have the gentlest touch (one that the MC isn’t really expecting because of how they are with you).
Goes on a run with their dog every single morning (when their schedule allows it) to allow her to stretch her legs. It’s one of the highlights of their day.
Sings along to old show tunes that play on the radio as they’re headed to work every morning. Tapping along with the beat as a bright smile pulls on their lips.
Has a semi-distant relationship with their parents/family for a variety of reasons but they’re not one to share all that much about it.
Their favorite snack is popcorn and they commonly eat it instead of having a nutritious meal (which they’re well aware is bad for them).
Blaine/Blaire:
Is a Pre-K Teacher within Aurora and has an absolute blast creating lesson plans for their students. They have a lot of the art their students have made for them framed in their house.
Is a frequent diner at the local diner within Aurora; always ordering the same thing (a cheeseburger and fries with a strawberry shake). It’s something they always used to do with you.
Used to visit your grave every Sunday in order to pay respects and tell you about their week and what they were excited for in the upcoming one— even though all they really wanted was for you to be there with them.
Loves the taste of cinnamon and gets really excited when their mother makes them cinnamon pie (a childhood favorite).
Still keeps a picture of you on their desk (both at work and at home) because they never want to forget what you look like. And it makes them think that they’re not truly alone.
Wren/Wynn:
Has a personal connection with this case which is part of the reason they want it to finally be solved.
Has an unhealthy addiction to trashy romance books that they’ll commonly read within their hotel room whenever they’re bored or the case gets too stressful.
Is an absolute terrible cook but they’re an amazing baker (scones that you’ll never be able to believe).
Is a highly decorated agent within the FBI and a highly decorated soldier from the Marines. They take honor and duty to a whole other level.
Has a cat back in DC that they absolutely adore more than anything. It’s an old little man that they’ve named Fiji (as they named him after the only bottle of water they had on them when rescuing him).
Nicholas/Natalie:
Is a complete recluse but they’re always kind to people whenever they get lost near their house. Helping them back to Aurora with Beau happily trotting by their side.
Lives out on the lake with their next neighbor over two miles away; it’s something that made them choose their house to begin with. As they didn’t want to deal with the hustle and bustle of living in town.
Is very active; taking Beau running, biking, hiking, kayaking, etc. Whatever N does you bet your ass that Beau is going to be loyally by their side for it all.
Loves to go bird watching whenever the season comes around and they also love laying out on their back deck and watching the stars; having memorized the constellations long ago.
Is very goofy whenever they get comfortable around people and is a fairly genuine person with the few people that they trust. It’s just hard for them to get there.
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forthegothicheroine · 3 years
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The King in Yellow, 1949
Much of this story is true.  Warnings in the tags.
When I had pneumonia in my early teens, my mother brought home an armful of VHS tapes from the library to alleviate my misery.  Knowing my snobbish preferences, she had grabbed copies of whatever she found in black and white.  I remember something musical that I suspect was Busby Berkeley, I remember Mildred Pierce (a bad choice, as it turned out- the plot includes a young girl dying of pneumonia), and I remember a period piece called The King.  I faded in and out of consciousness while I watched it, but it soothed me while I was awake and filled my fever dreams with sparkling images.  I could never find it at the library again, nor at Hollywood Video or even early Netflix (once my father got the subscription service where you could order practically every DVD.)  It was a bit odd that it seemed to be so obscure, given that it starred old Hollywood legend Ingrid Bergman (and, although I initially forgot it, Marlene Dietrich.)  But even big stars make films that fall by the wayside in public memory, and it seemed that this was one of them.  Google was no help, and at the time that was that.
I didn’t see the film again until I was watching Turner Classic Movies at my grandparents’ house.  I loved watching that channel with them while filling out the crossword puzzle that came in their little TCM catalogue (all of it based on movie trivia, the only kind of crossword puzzle I’ve ever been any good at.)  I recognized a certain scene where Bergman stood on a balcony, looking sadly at the moon.  Her face had an expression of unutterable melancholy, and the crescent moon reflected in each of her eyes, giving the impression of two moons in one sky.  I had very little time to catch up on what I’d missed before we had to go meet my cousins at the local Italian restaurant.  I knew logically that the movie would be long over by the time we returned, but I turned on the channel anyway.  Of course it had moved on to the lesser known Alfred Hitchcock film Stage Fright, but then I heard Marlene Dietrich sing before I could reach the remote to turn the tv off in disappointment.  I knew that I had heard her sing before, and I knew it had been in The King.
Dietrich’s singing often comes across as somewhat campy today, with its Rs pronounced as Ws and it’s up-and-down tone.  Madeline Kahn parodied it brilliantly in Blazing Saddles, such that it was a bit of a disappointment when I finally saw Dietrich’s western Destry Rides Again and found it to be lifeless and inconsistent next to the parody.  Still, we remember her voice for a reason, and when I remembered it that night, I knew that its sardonic loneliness had rung through The King and made me shiver in my dreams.
The TCM schedule didn’t list The King in its time slot, but something else.  If I had taken down the name, maybe it would have helped me find it.  Sometimes the same movie runs under multiple names.
I didn’t see the film all the way through for many years, after I graduated college.  I had found a web page that listed public domain film noir, including one called The Masked Guest.  The website described it as a costume noir, and I curiously clicked on the link.  Once I took in the credits running on the youtube window, my eyes grew wide and I did not move from my place on the bed until the movie had run its course.
The credits did indeed list it as The Masked Guest, but I recognized the strange repeating design on the title cards.  They told me that in addition to starring Dietrich and Bergman, it was directed by Fritz Lang, and a character called The King was credited to “???”  (I hadn’t seen that kind of credit since the first Karloff Frankenstein.)  When the King finally appears on screen, though, it is unmistakably Orson Welles’s voice that booms out from behind his elaborate costume.
Here are the things I understand about The King, or The Masked Guest, or The Man in Yellow, or any other title I’ve found for it on public domain archive searches.  Dietrich and Bergman play princesses named Cassilda and Camilla, respectively.  Though Dietrich’s accent is German and Bergman’s is Swedish, they blend together to give the film the impression of being set somewhere on the map that I can’t quite find.  The scenery and camera angles are very Freudian, with a great deal of archways and pillars.
The first act of The King involves frankly dull romantic plotlines, and the only thing that really saved it was the feeling that the suitors were supposed to be insipid, a suspicion lended credence by the fact that the love interests were listed so low on the credits.  Dietrich is the scandalous sister and Bergman is the responsible one, though each takes on aspects of the other as the film goes on.  Dietrich sings her song at a party, dressed in a fake 17th century gown and leaning against a piano.  Although just a moment ago she had been laughing and joking with her gentleman friends, her song takes an abruptly serious tone (not seductive, not sentimental) as she tells the story of a city lost to time and memory.  Bergman slips away from the party and onto the balcony, where we see that wonderful shot of the moon in her eyes.  Is she mourning?  Is she longing?
Dietrich cuts off the song by abruptly screaming “Not on us, King!  Not on us!”  She flees the party weeping and shaking, and from there on the film goes mad.
Though uncommon, it is not unknown for movies to switch between black and white and color, done most famously in The Wizard of Oz.  The film The King recalls here is the silent Phantom of the Opera, which had a masqued ball scene tinted in shades of red and green that tried to provide a whole spectrum of color.  The effect is even odder in the masqued ball scene in The King- the only color that appears is yellow, highlighting things like candlelight, Dietrich’s hair, a passing gown, a vase of tulips.  It also highlights one particular masked figure, whose expressionless mask was decorated with a black pattern against a sickening yellow canvas- the same pattern I had seen in the opening credits.  The color of his costume causes him to stand out from the crown even when he is far off in the background, just one head among many others.  It must have taken long and painstaking hours of work to color in every frame.
Dietrich still seems broken up days after her song, though Bergman tries to coax her into joining the dance.  Finally, at midnight, Dietrich goes out to face the party, but only to demand that every guest remove their mask.  The yellow man with a voice that once warned America about a Martian invasion tells her that he wears no mask.  Bergman reacts with disbelief, but Dietrich starts laughing like a woman unhinged.  As she laughs, the yellow hue seeps out of the King’s clothing and face- if that really is his face- and begins to color the entire ballroom crowd.  I think that what follows is bloodshed, but if there is any carnage (doubtful under the Production Code censorship), the blood must be tainted yellow and splashed across the camera like daubs of paint.  Dietrich’s laughing face is doubled and tripled on screen until it dissipates, but even when it has faded offscreen, it feels as if her ghost continues to watch the proceedings.  
By the end of the scene (filled with German Expressionist camera angles and mad violin screeching), only Bergman remains alive, cowering behind a grandfather clock.  It does not hide her for long.  The King steps towards her and extends his hand.  Reluctantly, but with a fatalistic expression, Bergman takes his hand.  They walk away together hand in hand.  The screen shifts back into black and white, and then the credits roll before we can get a good look at all the bodies in the scene.  The credits say it was based on a play called The King in Yellow, although Raymond Chandler of all people apparently had a hand in the screenplay.
As I said, that’s what I think I understand.  It’s an oddly experimental art film for the era, and it may be awaiting rediscovery by the film festival crowd.  I feel as if I alone know about it, though that obviously isn’t true.  It is my little secret; I tell myself that my husband doesn’t need me to show it to him, it would be too odd for his taste.  I’ve rewatched it many times, even if it seems like each time I search for it I have to find a different video platform or torrent.  Naturally, no subscription site has it available.  Maybe I am the last person who will ever watch it.  Maybe no one will ever think to look for it again after me, and it will be completely forgotten.
When I was hospitalized, they let me use my laptop at night before I went to sleep (no power cord, though, in case I tried to hang myself.)  I found a youtube link for The Man in Yellow, and I watched it every night.  It wasn’t a soothing sort of movie, but having it in my mind all day and then watching it in the evening allowed me to think as opposed to crying endlessly while the other patients shot me awkward looks.  I clutched the childhood stuffed animals my mother brought me when she visited, and I always held them extra tight when the masquerade scene started.
I watched the movie when I had to move away from my beloved San Francisco.  I watched the movie when I lost the last of my grandparents.  I watched the movie when a doctor unwisely took me off my medication and I couldn’t manage to eat for a month.  I watched the movie when the whole world got sick and we all locked ourselves away from each other.  I don’t mind that I don’t entirely know what it means.  I don’t mind the nightmares.  In the hospital they kept telling us about mindfulness exercises, and maybe the fact that I can focus on every aspect of the film so closely that all else falls away is the reason I keep coming back to it.  I’m being mindful.  I’m not letting any stray thoughts invade my head.  I’m just watching and waiting for the next beat of every scene, leading inexorably to that yellow-stained bloodbath.
Streaming media doesn’t last forever, and each time I find The King, I worry that it will be the last time I ever can find it.  My efforts to download it have so far been unsuccessful, odd considering that it is in the public domain.
When I watch The King, I am once again a child in my bedroom being cared for in the throes of agonizing sickness.  I am once again sitting on the couch with my grandparents in front of the tv, both of them alive and lucid again.  I am once again in the hospital, all alone except for my stuffed animals and the staff trying to keep me alive.  The film reflects in my eyes like the crescent moon in Ingrid Bergman’s gaze.  It sings to me.
I am determined to find a way to obtain The King under any name so that I never have to worry about losing it.  During some of the worst times in my life, it is the only thing that has kept me sane.
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katyahina · 3 years
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So, about actual spouse of Queen Yharnam...
I've seen a theory that she was marrying Oedon most of the times but I think things are a bit more complicated yet simpler than that! I decided to loredig on my own, here is what I personally concluded!
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(I will be using script from Last Protagonist's document here ( x ), to not miss out on possible nuances, as usual)
So, the theory seems to come from the fact that Arianna births the special infant rougly around when the player reaches Nightmare of Mensis and kills Micolash, as well as the fact that Mergo does not have a body visible as well - they are just a crying voice! However:
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It is very possible that Mergo did, in fact, have a body! In physical realm, but it was not formed properly. Yharnam Stone does look for me like if a baby is stuck inside, this might be the case of lithopedion, an actual thing that happens very rarely when baby merges with the womb. Probably not a lethal thing for Queen Yharnam as Pthumerians had ways to transcend death as concept.
So despite the situation, Mergo indeed counts as having been 'born' - they cry and the notes urge you to silence them. But their Eye Cord is the core of their existance, their spiritual being that transcends physical realm and the only way they can be taken into Nightmare realm. Of course they do not have a form in the Nightmare - there is no proper frame of reference from physical one as it was malformed! In the Lake and in the Nightmare of Mensis we do meet Yharnam without her belly and Mergo is separated from her, held hostage by Wet Nurse who DOES drop their cord, implying that's how they were taken.
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Seems like another case of the need for many "lesser" beings in order to create "greater" one - after things like Brain of Mensis, One Reborn being 'failed evil god' in internal file names and Oedon prefering Arianna's 'impure' blood for conception (now that we know what makes the clan's blood 'impure').
It is a bit more evident that Cainhurst somehow descends from Pthumerian royalties - Maria uses pyromancy like many Pthumerian enemies do, Annalise recognizes Ring of Betrothal, there are dead warriors in exact armour shown on a warrior guy on one of the portraits in Cainhurst, another portrait has a woman in the same dress as Bell-ringing Women... all that. With the above, attempt to artificially conceive a 'child of blood' seems even more palatable, but as for what it has to do with the marriage?
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It looks to me like rather than whatever Great Ones ancient Pthumerians were in contact with being involved in the marriage, they rather blessed (cursed?) this marriage ritual to be able to serve as conception a 'child of blood' upon happening! Any hunter getting the same responce from Annalise is important too; to put it bluntly, it doesn't matter what the spouse is packed with, as impregnation is not their job, but rather a work of the ritual factors. Perhaps, the spouse in this unholy ritual is THE final sacrifice in order for a child of blood to be born!
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(Datamined internal names from here ( x ) )
It seems like Annalise already had a husband, a normal one, and it is implied he was murdered by Logarius; however, Cainhurst guards were searching for Blood Dregs for her. There might have been an attempt, at least:
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i(Arianna sliders from here ( x ) )
Annalise is not a blonde, she is de-menanised redhead! It is even clearer from her concept art - and from what we know, they do not tend to step away from how characters are drawn in the initial concept too much. Seems like she endured the same colors loss as Arianna.
Why that happened is left up to pure interpretation though! I for one like to think the ritual was not complete - pregnancy progressed but before the last sacrifice was made, Executioners already got to her, so now cord of that child is in Abandoned Workshop. Her face got distorted as evidence of grief of losing child before it could be 'held': similarly to how Moon Presence's face is distorted as she is implied to have lost a child, with her guts missing obviously. And of course the king was still up to battle Logarius (unsuccessfully). Perhaps, had ritual been completed, Annalise would have assumed name Yharnam number who the hell is counting anymore, since:
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This bit is indeed irrecognizeable in official localization. Maybe not all Shadow of Yharnam served 'our' Queen Yharnam, after all! Maybe spouse in unholy conceiving ritual assumes name Cain, first. But this is just my version of what happened in this bit of timeline!
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This one is just to remind that Arianna is a Vileblood herself, and exactly this blood quality is the reason why Oedon chosen her for this impregnation. However, there is another Vileblood in the game that conveniently has a cord, and drops it if you kill her after Bloodmoon phase - Impostor Iosefka!
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Description of her cord refers to Willem's search for it, and is confusing paired with implication of Choir members having been entering Byrgenwerth from secret passageway through Iosefka's Clinic. Feels like another Miyazaki's deliberate open ends to allow people use imagination, "accurately" or not! I for one think there are enough hints to believe Fauxsefka was 'blessed' like Arianna thanks to her blood and description of cord she drops was just a place for more overall lore.
Amount of bigger celestial children crawling all over Upper Cathedral Ward, paired with how Fauxsefka is a Choir member and hint that only people with 'impure blood' get special infants could mean Healing Church knew way more, and planned way more than meets the eye at first. Wonder how did they even get Fauxsefka to side with them...? I bet on brainwashing agenda at its finest.
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There is just this last bit that I think is relevant! Accent on the bastard (well, illegitimate child) seems important! The term used is 落とし子 (otoshiko), literally means nobleman's child born outside of/without marriage. So it is safe to assume that children of stars like this are 'gifts' from Great Ones, but children of blood are conceived within unholy Pthumerian marriage rituals, 'on their own terms' so to say! They do their own rules, that apparently end badly for the spouse of the queen that ends up carrying the child.
So that might have just happened with whoever Queen Yharnam got married to! I have not closed all ends and it could be that she married Oedon and THAT marriage made him lose his body + ascend, thus starting this strange line. What does confuse me personally about this version is that some Great Ones already had to stand behind giving special meaning to Ring of Betrothal, that there is Oedon Chapel that is far from being Cainhurst's domain and that technically Mergo was not "lost", only stolen - and both Arianna and Fauxsefka get pregnant before we silence Mergo so that'd be a bit too early to give up for Oedon, no?
Thus I think the original husband of Queen Yharnam did see "a terrible future" Annalise mentioned and if Oedon is relevant, then as a Great One giving divine power to the ritual rather than being involved in it like we thought!
Whatever child Oedon did lose might be left out, or just be another answer that is hidden on a plain sight. At this rate I just knocked off the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit sentiment with Moon Presence, Ebrietas and Oedon. Well, rather the Mother, the Daughter and the Holy Voice but it is similar.
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hobipaint · 3 years
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Graffiti and Chalk- two
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summary: You thought you knew him. You thought him gone. Kim Taehyung was part of you that you had carefully suppressed, keeping his memories to one box near the wall of your mind. That was your fault, though - empty walls demand for art. And who other than your own neighbourhood vandal?
↳ pairing: ex police student turned vandal! taehyung x officer! female reader
↳ genres: angst, fluff
↳ word count: 9.6K
↳ disclaimers: pg15!, vandalism, police officers, criminal past and heavy discussion of it, mentions of character deaths.
one | two
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a/n: FINALLY AFTER A MONTH IT'S HERE! This took me really long to write but I'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out : it's my longest work yet, and I feel like it would be among my best as well hehe. a massive thank you to @kookiestarlight because i swear i completed this in the first place because of tasha, @swcetnight who pointed out exactly where I need to elaborate stuff and places in which I was loosing parts of the plot because did I forget the whole storyline while writing this 🤡, @vaekth because this bby is absolutely amazing. she's supported me throughout the process of writing this, thank you so much!! thank you to @taecup-fics for beta reading this at the last minute and pointing out a bunch of grammatical errors because otherwise this would be a mess to read 😭 to everyone who has waited - I'm so sorry that it came this late, I suddenly had a bunch of exams that were announced and had to focus on those. Hopefully this lives up to your expectations!! Enjoy reading :)
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Morning often dawns with a feeling of hope. With wistful sights of sunrise. Flowers open up to the golden haze that thaws the frost of the night. Birds roam the skies that had been but mysterious domains in the dark. People wake up with groans about the impending day, hopeful for it to end soon. You hoped for your mornings to always be similar to this- some constants were needed in places where you had cases as bewildering as missing pumpkin plushies piling up in your office. 
Your morning today, though, was much different. Much to your annoyance. 
You held the coffee you had brewed for yourself - another espresso, the universe knows you needed it - and handed one to Taehyung just as the cuckoo perching on the clock shrilly announced that it was eight in the morning. 
"Do you still have no answers for me, Y/N?" Taehyung looked at you. His eyes were sullen - no signs of the cheekiness that had peeked at you last night. Scattered rays fell across his body, highlighting the sunken cheeks, brooding eyes and tight smiles you could now see better in the daylight. 
You sighed- probably for the millionth time this night. "I do not understand your question, Taehyung." 
"You remember it. I've asked you thrice since I saw you again, Y/N. Do you not remember anymore? Do you not care for me? Was our idea of us nothing for you?" He looked at you with a myriad of emotions written all over his face- you looked away, not wanting to see them. 
Sighing, you gathered your thoughts the best you could. "Like I said, Taehyung." You looked at him- looking at the person you once fell in love with. The feeling you felt today, though, was much different. There was a feeling of running towards him, taking him in your arms and remembering who he was to you all over again, but it was overwhelmed by the confusion you felt - should you prioritize a past that wanted answers, or a future that was unsure? For now, you chose none pushing the time to make that decision further ahead. "We were an 'us' for only a few hours. Until you stood me up."
He rolled his eyes."That wasn't intentional, Y/N." 
"And how was I supposed to know that, Taehyung? I thought it was, since you had never told me anything beforehand."
Taehyung's eyebrows bunched together, as if coming to hear the stories that his eyes longed to tell- stories of events that you had never seen and never known. "Would you not hear me out, even once? For the sake of our old love?"
You bristled. "What love, Taehyung?" You got up to stretch your legs out, looking at the patchwork blanket that was stuffed in the corner. You had taken that for your first date with Taehyung, planning to cuddle with him and watch the stars - a date that never happened. "What love? A love where you don't speak to me for weeks, and then vanish for some crime? We were young then, and I got hurt then as it is. There's no need to go over this right now." 
"That was not my fault, Y/N. You know that." Taehyung seemingly sunk back into his chair, eyes downcast. "I had said I loved you. Before I ever went out with you." 
"Like that matters,” you scoffed, “what's the point in reminiscing promises from an old love?"
"At least, hear me out?" He looked up at you with hope sprinkled in the abyss of his eyes. "I don't want you to forget me."
You turned back to your chair, tearing your eyes away from the blanket that was now a pale blue in the sunlight - a few shades lighter than the cerulean colour it would be in the afternoon. "Not now, Taehyung." 
Taehyung sighed, looking at the floor, tension exhaled into the room. He sat silently for a few seconds, the ticking clock announcing each moment clearly to you. "That's fair. It's just.." He looked back at you. "I'm used to thinking of you as the person I loved." He nervously let his eyes pan around the windows, gazing at the sunshine that streamed through the window, before turning back towards your gaze. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I'm just really grateful for your presence-" 
"Taehyung." You sharply interrupted him. "Two years ago, when your case was reopened for investigation. Who did that?" 
"They told me that it was a well wisher in the neighbourhood. Another jailor said it was for good behaviour." He shrugged. 
You scoffed aloud, more loudly than you would have liked him to hear. 
He frowned, lips drawn in a tight line in annoyance. "Don't believe me? I'll have you know, Y/N, I was among the most well behaved at prison. Absolutely no tantrums. I even ate the salt-less, disgusting food they'd give there. No crying. Nothing. I can show you later on if you want, I think I have a report stuffed somewhere here," He got up, shuffled towards his bag and checked the last zip, hunting for a report you had never heard of. 
"It was me." 
Taehyung whirled around to face you, unruly hair swinging like the seats of a carousel at a carnival, and raised an eyebrow. "What were you?" 
"I was the one who insisted on opening the case for reinvestigation, the case of your stepfather's assault. Went around collecting evidence, searching for people who knew about your family better, getting their voices recorded, finding about the whole deal to frame you and stuff. Nearly got fired." You shrugged, sipping your espresso and wincing- too bitter. "You're welcome, by the way. The coffee is getting cold." 
"I don't care about the coffee." He moved the cup aside - nearly spilling the liquid, roughly settling back into the seat he had been occupying for the last few hours. "You were the one who asked for re-opening the case?" 
"Just said that." 
He slumped back in his seat, and your eyes took in how he spread himself out on the chair, tiredness lacing his figure. "I didn't know that." 
"Now you do." You said, sipping your coffee and watching Taehyung do the same. 
Taehyung stared blankly at you, and you couldn't fathom what was swirling in those ebony orbs of his. "Why did you do that, Y/N?"
"Honestly," you smile softly at him, "I was expecting a thank you."
"You should have expected questions, Y/N. Why did you help me?" Taehyung's blank expression made way for a confused one, eyebrows furrowing and lips pouting. 
"I did what I had to do as a-" You paused here, unsure of what to say. "As a friend, Taehyung, nothing more. I knew you were innocent-"
"How were you so assured?" He pressed on."I could be a complete 180 from the man I met you as. I could be fake. I could be an impostor. I could-"
"You could do a bunch of things, Taehyung." You stared him straight in the eye, trying to keep your emotions at bay. "But you could never tell a lie." 
Taehyung scoffed. "You sound like one of the wishy-washy pick-me kind of girls in the movie. No, I don't lie, but I could." 
You sighed. As much as you cared for Taehyung, you had never really cared for his argumentative attitude. "I went with the assumption that you were the same person I knew, Taehyung. The one whom I respected and trusted. I acted on that feeling." 
"That wasn't trust, Y/N. It was naivety. You were naive to believe me." Taehyung paused, uncertainty lining his forehead as he spoke. "You shouldn't have trusted me." 
You rolled your eyes- you couldn't understand why he was so desperate to make sure that you remained aloof from him. What had you done to be treated like that? What had he done to force everyone away from him? 
You tried to play off his remaining doubts and frustrations as insecurities he developed while in jail, and moved on."Alright then, you impostor. I was naive to trust you. And even more naive to believe you. Happy? Now shush. I don't want to talk about this." You tried to clear your mind of any doubts you had about Taehyung, but his behaviour, the way he interacted with you - it couldn't help but increase the worry and confusion in your mind.
Taehyung leaned forward to look you in the eye before smiling softly at you - you couldn't understand why. You were going to give him a criminal record, maybe arrest him. You were potentially ruining his life again, and he smiled at you. "If you say so, officer." Taehyung said, settling into the chair - leaving your mind reeling with questions you weren't sure you wanted the answers to. 
You opened the laptop again, wearily. "Let's get back to the questions; the sooner we finish this, the better. Where did you source the paint from?" 
"You mean the graffiti? And chalk?" You nodded. Taehyung sighed."Terminology, Officer, terminology. Make no errors." He raised a finger to wave at you, as if to say no. You rolled your eyes -it seemed that you were the only one concerned about what would happen to him after this, because Taehyung quite clearly was not. "I bought it with the allowance money that was kept for me in the bank- as much as I hated that man, his cards proved to be useful."
You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "You didn't steal it." 
"No. Took it from my step-father's account. Technically, now mine. Apparently he left everything to his children, and I'm the only one alive that I know of. Maybe he had other children- I wouldn't doubt it for a moment if he had, but that doesn't change my right to his money either." 
"Any other members of your family who had been granted access to that account?" You asked, wanting to make sure that there were no loopholes - you didn't want a future possibility of Taehyung being entangled with the wrong side of the law again. 
He rolled his eyes, leaning further. "Curious little thing, aren't you? Like I'd told you last night, most of them are dead. Mom had died a few months before I was arrested - thanks to my stepfather being an alcoholic and taking everything out on her. Grandmother already had massive health issues - she passed away after two years of me being in jail - they had let me come out for her funeral."
"My siblings - a brother and sister, if you remember - were taken in by a distant relative, and the last time I spoke to them was three years ago. I'm not allowed to contact them because I might end up being a 'bad influence'," he air quoted the words, laughing mirthlessly. "Guess they won't be too delighted to see me again. You probably know about my stepfather - got drunk and passed out. Permanently. But yeah, that's all. I'm pretty much the sole benefactor from that account."
Hearing how nonchalantly he spoke about it, you were forced to maintain a strong face and be professional. You couldn't possibly think of even wanting to comfort him in any way. "So, you were absolutely not stealing."
"Nope. No. Not at all. Want any further repetitions?" 
"That won't be necessary," You said, having typed out the information - tracking his expenditures would also be necessary now, apparently. "Any expenditure you make shall be monitored, now. Be careful."
"Always have been." He chuckled, getting back to spinning the glass on the table. "You know me." 
You ignored him. "Your cards will be tracked, and any loose cash will be checked by us. If we feel that there's any room for suspicion, you will have reason to be monitored." 
An odd silence filled the room while you tapped away at your laptop, filling in more details about the incident. Taehyung would be having a criminal record again, you thought to yourself. It was the only thought that echoed in your mind. It made you feel uneasy in a way, but you swallowed your unease down. There's a promotion to focus on. 
"Taehyung, something has been bugging me since I caught you vandalising." You shifted a little bit, before deciding to spit out the question. "Why did you do it?" You leaned forwards on the table, elbows digging into the wood as you tried to grasp the answers from him. 
Taehyung looked you in the eyes, and then looked away. "I don't know."
"You don't know." You raised your eyebrows, leaning back incredulously. "Taehyung, that's not an answer." 
"I did it because I wanted to. It was fun. I'd see kids in the morning pointing at my graffiti work and they would like it. There would be people claiming it looked good. I felt acknowledged and I just-" He pleaded, unable to continue without pausing to recollect his calm. "I felt like doing it. After years of having questions raised at me for committing a crime I never did, I finally had people talking about the work I did. Even if it was just chalk drawings." 
You exhaled in confusion. The Taehyung you had known - he was never like this. Confident, assured, independent. That was what he seemed to you when you were younger. And now, to see him want to be validated by others who never even cared for him- it felt ridiculous to you. Why was his only way of feeling validated involving something against the law? "Okay, then." 
You went through the complaints that had been registered against him, hand resting against your forehead as you asked him the most commonly asked question. "Why the insignia 'V'?" 
"V for victory?" He made a 'V' sign with his fingers, "I liked to think that I won against the world by rebelling against its sense of black and white. I saw everyone talk about it, and I felt like the same people who had once pointed fingers at me, blaming me for something I hadn't done, were now pointing fingers at something I had done - I felt victorious. I didn't need to show myself and possibly want more than I had already let myself have - this was enough for me." 
You pulled your lips in a tight line, and hummed in response - there were two places that together had put in about twenty complaints, so you had to respond to all of them. You kept reminding yourself that neither did you have the space to feel sorry for him, nor did you have the power to say sorry to him. You simply kept your head turned to the screen, typing in answers to all the complaints. 
Taehyung leaned forward after a few seconds. "What punishment do you think I'll get, Officer?" 
"If the chief is feeling good, maybe you'll get community service, with a fine," You looked up at him. "Or maybe some time in jail." 
"How much time?"
"Maybe a month or two?" 
"Oh." Taehyung slumped back into his seat nonchalantly. "Cool then." 
How was he this calm? You thought to yourself. He might be going to jail. For a second time.
"Yup." You shut the laptop, finally, after hours of typing information and recording it. Sighing, you lifted the porcelain mug once again to absolutely drain it of coffee, your rather loud gulps echoing in the silence of your office. 
Taehyung tapped his fingers on the table- probably some old tune he had learnt before. You remembered that he played the saxophone - from nights of serenading tunes that he had played for you with his beloved instrument. "How long do you think the chief will take to reach here?" 
"A few hours, maybe? I'd expect him around ten, to be honest. Nevertheless, let me check." You quickly called the chief on your phone, hearing his ringtone play some old Korean trot song before it was picked up. 
"Hello, yes, yes, Y/N. I expected your call." A gravely, rather rough voice responded to you- like it hadn't been used for a few hours. "I shall be reaching the office around eleven. Keep Taehyung with you." 
"Yes sir," you said, keeping the phone on your table and turning to Taehyung.  "The chief said he'll be here by eleven." 
Taehyung nodded in acknowledgement. 
"It's nearly eight thirty now." You looked at the cuckoo clock again. "Would you like to freshen up?" 
"Where?" Taehyung asked, eyes widening. "Shouldn't I just be at the office?" 
"Yeah, you should. My place is right here- the back of this office is where I live, so you'll be fine." You look down at his clothes, grease, paint and metal shrapnel all over them. "Besides, you look like you need a change of clothes." 
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Taehyung stepped into your house with an air of curiosity, to see how his once classmate was living. His head stooped low to enter through the small door you had, eyes widening in surprise when he found that the hall of your house was larger than he had anticipated. 
The house was quaint, a hall with an old couch which doubled as a bed when needed. There was a table in the middle of the room, too low to be a dining table and too high to be a center table. For coffee, maybe? There were maybe five or six magazines scattered haphazardly over it, covering nearly every inch- except for one corner, where Taehyung spotted a shining acrylic blue. 
You, however, spotted what page you had left a magazine open at. Squeaking, "I'm sorry!" you ran to shut the booklet close, afraid that Taehyung would spot your love for shirtless men. 
Picking up the magazines, you grinned sheepishly at him. "Just a moment! I'll be back, a bit of cleaning to be done, sit right here!" You patted the couch, trying to convince Taehyung. 
Taehyung turned away from the pictures he had been observing- was there one of you both? - and nodded, eyes widening in surprise as he saw how you scuttled away to hide the magazines. He looked around again, taking a feel of your house- it seemed like the old you. There was some patchwork embroidery you had left in a corner, atop what seemed to be a showpiece? Taehyung stepped closer to see it in detail, and was amazed at the way you had managed to drag the red thread over and over the pink fabric to make floral designs. It reminded him of the rose he had been trying to complete the previous night, and he grit his teeth. He shouldn't be thinking about that now. That shouldn't be what he does anymore. No more.
You came back, looking quizzically at him. "Take a seat, Taehyung! It's alright." 
"Uh, yeah." He shuffled over to the couch again. "Did you make that?" 
You looked in the direction his finger pointed to. "Yeah. Tried doing embroidery for stress release purposes." 
Taehyung grinned at you. "Stress release?" He asked, bemused. 
"Yup." You said while making sure that the magazines were well hidden. "The department I wanted to be in was forensics, you know?" Taehyung nodded, he had been privy to most of your discussions about the advances in forensic technology and analysis - even if he didn't understand anything, he knew your love for it. "Well, they didn't allow me. So the whole 'stress' thing began." You walked back to him, making air quotes as you emphasized on stress. "My mother suggested embroidery would take my mind off it. So, that incomplete piece you see there?" Taehyung nodded, concentrating on every word that left your mouth. "That started a few days ago." 
"It looks like it's complete, though- are you really good at it?" Taehyung looked at you again, turning back from the embroidery you were now rising to get. 
"Pretty much? It's easy once you get the hang of it." 
"Ah." Taehyung said, a dull silence settling into the room for a few moments as Taehyung looked around your room.  
"That picture." He pointed, and you turned your head around. The picture he was focusing on was on your mantelpiece, resting happily. The frame had butterflies stuck on its corners, two large and two small. The border was white, now off white, and had pink dots in certain places. It was a picture of fireworks- red, yellow and blue mixing together in a dull sky to breathe life into the picture. And right in the middle, surrounded by this liveliness, were you and Taehyung. Beaming. 
Taehyung turned to, finger still pointing at the picture. "That's our picture, right?" 
You hummed in affirmation. "That's us, freshman party. We had known each other for a few weeks at this time."
"And I had stopped someone from asking you out, right?" Taehyung reminisced. "That was fun." 
You snort. "You had punched him in the face when he asked for my name, Taehyung." 
Taehyung smiled. "I didn't want anyone to harm you, Y/N, and he seemed like he would harm you." He spread out his arms and grinned smugly at you. "In a way, I rescued you. That night." 
And so many other nights, you wanted to say. For all the time you had known Taehyung, he had been fiercely protective of you - for reasons he never truly told you. You didn't question it either, basking in the feeling of being wanted by someone. 
You cleared your throat, hoping to clear your mind as well. "You should go take a shower, Taehyung." Glancing at the clock, you noted the time and motioned towards the washroom. "It's nearly nine. Go take a shower, call for me if you need anything. I'll go get some clothes for you."
Taehyung nodded, rising up slowly to go in the direction you pointed. "Towels are inside," you shouted after him, and he yelled in response to say he understood. In some ways, too many ways, he felt like the Taehyung you once knew. 
You went to your room to pick out some clothes, opening your meager collection to salvage something that would fit Taehyung. Your eyes scanned over your uniforms, jumpsuits, jeans, t-shirts and finally landed on the hoodies- probably the largest collection in your wardrobe. Thankfully, you loved large, loose hoodies. You started pulling them out, holding each one up and imagining Taehyung's proportions in them. 
The red one, with blue paw prints. "Nah. Too tight." 
The black plain one. "That's mine, I'm not sharing that." 
The grey ones- nearly three. You skipped over all of them, not understanding how none of these oversized hoodies would seemingly fit Taehyung. He'd gotten humongous, broad shoulders and everything. 
You picked out a few more, trying to see whether it would be a fit. None worked. 
When you picked up the next one, you could already picture him wearing it. It was the hoodie you had taken from Taehyung during the first year you knew each other. You looked at its loose sleeves, stretchy from you tugging Taehyung behind you with it way back then. The green fabric of the hoodie was slightly pale in a certain spot - you had spilled soda all over him in a fit of anger.
During your forensic chemistry class,  the teacher didn't recognise their mistakes in the procedure (they used the wrong test for detecting the sample, and blamed it on you), and you were pretty miffed the whole day. Taehyung had bought sodas for the two of you, having planned to go stargazing later on. And you, in a terrible mood, flipped him off in a way that had the soda spilling over him. You cried, Taehyung laughed, but the hoodie was still stained. You took it with you later on to clean it - but the stubborn stain never left. You were agonized, Taehyung amused, but the hoodie- it was still stained. Taehyung had laughed it off, telling you to keep it with you for as long as you wanted- he could buy a dozen more hoodies to last him till then. 
When you left to head home that winter break, you had taken the hoodie with you. You had taken it on your date, crying on its sleeves when you were stood up. And when you came back, Taehyung was suddenly a criminal. 
You shook your head to remove the memories of that time, holding the hoodie in your hand and gently caressing its sleeves. So many memories were held in these threads that meshed together to form the fabric of your youth. Good or bad? You didn't want to dwell on that. 
"Y/N? Could I get the clothes now?" Taehyung called from the washroom. You picked up a extra large pair of cotton shorts and a hoodie, and passed it to him without really thinking- you'd done it before when he got drunk at college too, having him come over at your place, shower, change, and practically behave like a couple- at least, that's what you had thought of it then. 
Get it together, Y/N, why are you thinking about that? 
"Thanks!" he shouted again, grasping the clothes with his fingers and whisking them away to the confines of the washroom. 
You gripped at your hair and pinched your cheeks. You couldn't keep thinking about the old Taehyung. You didn't know if it was truly him anymore. 
"Uh, Y/N?" Taehyung stepped out of the washroom, the previously oversized shorts clinging to his thighs for dear life and the hoodie snugly fitting his figure. "I think it's a bit tight, but I'll make do." 
Your eyes widened in horror; Taehyung looked like he was moments away from bursting the shorts. "I'll get you new pants, wait a second. These ones don't fit." 
You turned back to your cupboard, looking for the loosest bottoms you could find. "I think the hoodie still fits though, right?" 
"Yeah." You heard Taehyung right over your shoulder, scaring you. 
"Jeez, when did you get this close to me?" You turned to face him, crossing your arms, looking at his hair which still had droplets sticking to its edges. 
"When did you get this far from me, Y/N?" His eyes bore into yours, sweetly intense eyes gazing at you like it was the first time he saw you. "What happened?" 
You shrugged, not wanting to answer it. You picked up a loose pair of denim jeans that you had found stuffed away at the back of your closet. Pushing it into his hands, you told him to go change. 
Apparently, your instructions fell on deaf ears. "What happened, Y/N? Answer me. Please."
You moved your gaze to his clothes, not wanting to focus on the thoughts that rushed back when you thought of him. What had happened? You moved your hands to your sides, resisting the need to hold him and know him all over again. "The hoodie looks good on you. Would you-" 
"So do our hands." He held yours, snugly fitting his palm- your calloused fingers against his calloused ones, heat burning in the sleeping embers of your palm. His eyes gazed at the joint fingertips almost reverently. "They fit well."
"Taehyung, now is not the time-" You begin, cut off by his frantic breathing.
"When is the time, Y/N? When will I get to live? When will I get to feel like a human? When will I be innocent?"
His hand caressed your palm, touching your forearm, your elbow, your shoulder, and your cheek -leaving a burning trail behind him everywhere he touched. You shivered. "Do you know how long I have wanted you, Y/N? Years. Seven years, now. I have loved you for years. I have wanted you for years. I did all sorts of things to remember you while in jail- kept asking for you, kept calling for you. I didn't want to forget you, Y/N. Not you. I couldn't forget you, no." 
He pressed your palm to his chest, and you could feel a dull thump echo through the clothes, reverberate in your palms. "That fire, Y/N. My passion in the promises I'd made to you. It never went anywhere. I always loved you. I always will. You can't make me leave again, not again. Please, no." 
He held your palm up to his cheeks, not regarding the tears that were streaking your cheeks and his. "You feel me, right? It's me. Taehyung. I am the one you trusted. I'm the same. Trust me again. Please." 
You tried to hold back the tears that threatened to slide down your cheeks, not wanting to pain Taehyung anymore. He held your forehead to his, pressing on the back of your head to meet his - upclose, you could see the redness that clouded the shine that his eyes would normally have. You couldn't hold back your tears anymore, nearly whimpering when you saw how broken he was- sirens swimming in the whirlpool of his eyes, singing songs of misery. "You know me, right? Do you know me? Do you recognize me? Kim Taehyung, police cadet. Your friend. Your classmate. You know me, right?" He asked, nose nearly brushing yours. "Do you know me?"He cried, eyes washing over the fire that ignited behind his pupils. You didn't see a vandal, or a criminal, or a friend. You saw a broken man. 
"Taehyung, oh, Tae," you cried, putting your hands on his shoulders, watching him slink down to the ground as his body trembled and shivered. You wrapped your arms close around his figure, unable to understand his pain but just wanting it to go away. 
You sat like that for a while, coaxing the tears and short whimpers out of him as he held onto your fingers, wanting to remember something he once had: you. 
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"I always asked for you, you know that?" Taehyung shivered as he spoke, even if the chills of the weather outside barely seeped into your home. "I always loved you. I don't know why they kept me there for so long, Y/N. I didn't do anything wrong. I don't know why I'm made to feel like this…" he trailed away, tears gathering at his chin as they endlessly flowed down his cheeks. 
You glanced a nervous eye at the clock, wanting to make sure that you get to the station- no matter what happens. The bubbling of water distracted you from the ticking of the clock, and you turned off the stove. Scouring your cabinets for a chamomile tea bag was hard, but you knew you needed it. Taehyung always seemed to calm down with tea - you had used it multiple times before. Times of which you have multiple memories. Times you wish to forget. 
Why did I ever love Taehyung? The question kept echoing in your mind as you leaned on top of the kitchen counter top. Things would have been so much simpler if simply looking at him wasn't so hard. His smile, his behaviour, his tears - it was all but a painful reminder of what you could have been if things had gone different. If only. 
You poured the hot water into the mug you had settled on the kitchen top, watching the water bloom into a serene shade of yellow as you dipped the tea bag into it repeatedly. You prepared one mug, then another, hearing the soft declarations Taehyung kept repeating while he was seated. 
All you had wanted to study was forensic science, and that was simply for one reason: you didn't want to interact with people. 
People are complicated, over emotional beings. and you couldn't help but feel helpless every time you had to encounter a suspect. You would constantly be told by your professors to see them as lawbreakers - but all you tried finding was signs of humanity in them. That even the most vicious killers had scope for reform. That's why you stuck to the subjects you wanted - you were good at finding signs of life, not squashing them. You consistently failed those classes, without any doubt. And today, it seemed like all those classes were laughing at you. 
"Here." You handed the mug to Taehyung, who muttered thanks. He rubbed his hands once or twice on the pants you told him to change into and took a sip from the warm tea. You resisted the urge to reach out and wipe the tears that lined his face, and try and wipe the scars of the past that had scarred him so badly - but you couldn't. You were a mere spectator in the game of his life. You couldn't possibly do anything other than hurt him more. 
"Thank you. For letting me express all of it. I could finally say everything that I wanted to before I was forbidden from speaking about it again." Taehyung tapped against the mug, fingernails resting on ceramic as the sun slowly headed westward. "I'm sorry that I've been such a burden to you, Y/N. I wonder if I can do anything to reduce the pain and confusion I put you through - I doubt I can." He looked at you carefully, though you couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Thank you." 
You let his words echo in the room, preoccupied with your thoughts. It hurt you to see him so broken, and you couldn't help but worry about him. 
"Taehyung, I-" You opened your mouth to respond, watching Taehyung pay attention to every move you made - only to be interrupted by your phone loudly ringing. 
"Sorry, this must be important." You got up to get your phone, watching Taehyung slump in his seat from the edge of your vision. 
"It's the chief," you announced, picking up the phone. 
He got straight to the point. "Come to the station, soon. Bring Taehyung with you." he told, his voice laced with a rather sharp edge- a tone that you had recognized in the years you had worked under him. Things were- most probably- not good. 
You responded with a simple "yes", mind dwelling on the impending result that Taehyung would get. You felt that it would be unlikely that he would be going to jail- at least, you hoped so.
Turning to Taehyung, you tried to hide the fear and shakiness that lined your voice. "Let's go." 
Taehyung sighed, playing with the mug as he rose up. "It's time, isn't it?"
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"Good morning, Sir." You greeted the chief as he hurried into the small office, giving Taehyung a glance and then facing you. 
"Morning." He gruffly responded, turning to your laptop. "We found an eyewitness for the vandalism, so we are getting them for the interrogation as well." 
"Another interrogation? We've already done it, sir, and all the information is recorded here. I doubt it will be necessary-"
"Please, Y/N," He calmly said. "Leave the decision about it being necessary to me." 
You stepped back, subconsciously edging closer to Taehyung - a move noticed by the chief as well. 
"Y/N," he began, "I need to speak to you. In private. Step outside for a few moments, please." 
You nodded, briskly walking towards the doors and yanking them open. There was a warm gust of wind that blew across your face, and you turned to face the chief. 
"Y/N," the chief began, before pausing for a moment, "Officer Y/N. I'm going to need you to think clearly now." 
"Yes." You set your features as tightly as you could, not wanting to seem distracted in any way. 
"Do you have any type of bias in this case, perhaps due to your past relation with him?" he looked quizzically at you, as if trying to decipher an enigma scribbled onto your face. 
Your blood chilled, for some reason. Were you having any bias? "No, sir." 
The chief hummed - you couldn't make head or tail of his reaction. He kicked at a pebble before continuing. "From the recordings I heard the previous night in the office, and the way you let him come with you to freshen up a bit, one particular thing has struck me: you were trying to find reasons for Taehyung to be justified as a victim, weren't you?" 
You gulped before responding. "Yes, sir. I believe the culprit committed vandalism as a coping mechanism to get over the hurt caused over the years." 
The chief sighed heavily. "Well then," he said, "I suggest we continue with our investigation, and find a way to make sure the culprit in the matter is stable as well. We can't have repeated cases like these - we have a reputation to uphold for the police as well." 
You nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir." 
The chief sighed again, glancing at the street. "Our witness should be here soon." He turned to you again. "Funnily enough, she volunteered as a witness with CCTV backup to claim that Taehyung had vandalized her shop too. Apparently she heard you arrest him last night - so we have to hear her out." 
The chief turned again to the road, eyes narrowing in hopes of spotting the witness soon. "The investigator whom she contacted has said she is a reliable witness, but I'm going to need to verify her statement nonetheless." He turned back, heading into the office.
You stared at the road that the chief was looking at before - the direction from which the supposedly reliable eyewitness would come, before heading back inside. 
Taehyung was still slumped in his seat, fingers tracing drawings all over the pants you had given him. The chief was shuffling around behind the desk, pulling two spare chairs ahead - one for Taehyung, you presumed, and one for the eyewitness - whoever that would be. 
"Mr. Kim Taehyung," the chief began, "there has been an eyewitness who has offered their testimony - whether it is to defend you, or further establish evidence of you vandalizing public spaces, I'm not yet aware. We shall be interrogating them - and maybe you, as well, now." 
Taehyung rose up from the corner he had settled into, and shuffled into the seat the chief had set for him, wordlessly. 
The door opened to reveal an older lady, dressed in a purple shaded hanbok, hair delicately pulled back into a tight bun and eyes peering around the whole office in curiosity. She found the chief, walking closer to the desk where he was arranging the records. "I'm here as the eyewitness..?"She said, looking at both you and the chief. 
"Ah, yes. I presume you're Ms. Park?" The chief asked, pulling the chair out for her to settle into it. Under the light that shined across her face, you could make out the wrinkles that lined her skin and the greys in her hair - not that that was relevant to what would happen. 
"I saw him vandalize the outside of my store a few days ago," she earnestly began, pulling out pictures that she had taken of the design on her window.  "I'm a florist, you see. His designs are clearly inspired by that, aren't they?" She pushed the pictures in front of your vision, and you could see what she meant - the designs of orchids, hibiscus and asters stared back at you, intricately painted onto the glass windows of the florist's shop. 
She pulled out more pictures. "There's been similar instances all over the neighbourhood- the other florist had a rose, the school received drawings full of children's stories and fairy tales, and had their walls painted with similar stories. In fact, the restaurants around here even said that their menus were drawn onto the streets, right in front of their doorstep." 
The chief looked at the pictures carefully, with you peering at them as well, taking in the detail that Taehyung had while he worked while making each of his works- no, vandalising, you corrected yourself. He raised an eyebrow at the eyewitness, who seemed to shrink into her seat. "What does this bring forward as evidence for or against the culprit? We already know what the crime is, and its details. We just have to determine a punishment- either a hefty fine or jail. Do you have anything that can justify him getting exempted from either?"
Ms. Park looked at you and the chief before turning to Taehyung apologetically, placing a hand on his knee - as if consoling him. "I think that at the end of the day, all he was doing was beautifying the neighbourhood, wasn't he? And most of the residents here don't have a problem with it-" the chief looked at her incredulously- "so please, don't punish him or something. A lot of people appreciate his work in our neighborhood, you know?" 
"But we have been receiving complaints about him since the past few days," the chief said. "Why the sudden change in opinion?"
Ms. Park fidgeted with the hem of her hanbok for a few moments, shaking her head nervously. "Some of us shopkeepers were really bothered by it at first, yes, but we also had some customers come over to inquire about the artwork. It looked professional to them. So we came to an ultimatum : we will let this young man paint and draw for us, on our walls, as much as he wants - as long as it's pretty," she emphasized, one hand patting her chest, "we'll pay him to do it." 
You held back a sob as you saw Taehyung's eyes glimmer - a ray of hope shining in them.His knee bounced up and down- a habit you knew was something he had had since years - and he smiled softly when Ms. Park squeezed his hand. You felt like things were finally going to go well. The chief exhaled roughly before rubbing his forehead, glancing at Ms. Park, who smiled at him in the hope that he would understand her reasoning. 
"The law, honestly, doesn't care about intentions- I don't think I really understand why I should even let him go. Vandalism is a punishable offence, and the perpetrator has been aware of its consequences. Why the sudden feeling to save him?" The chief questioned, eyes steely and tough. 
Ms. Park hesitated for a few moments. "I believe he deserves a second chance." She pulled her chair ahead, the metal ends scraping against the tiles, and pleaded once again. "He was arrested for years for something he hadn't even done - and now, might face a few more months in the same place for simply being artistic. I don't think it deserves punishment."
"That's for the law to decide, not you, madam." The chief sternly said. "I suggest you leave such decisions to us."
The room remained tense and quiet for the next few moments, and your eyes were trained on Taehyung. You noticed the quiver in his hands, the way he shrunk into his chair - as if to hide away from whatever the upcoming decision would be. 
Ms. Park was the first to interrupt the loud silence. "Oh, come on. Let me just pay for the boy's bail." 
The clock chose that moment to loudly announce the next hour: was it eleven? Twelve? You weren't paying attention. You only saw the way Taehyung rose up from his seat - in happiness, you thought - with fists sticking to his sides. "No. I won't accept it." 
You felt the chief look with just as much disbelief as you did. Why was he so hellbent on being a perpetrator when he could be free? 
Ms. Park laughed. "No. I'm not listening to that whole self righteous thing that you probably have," she swatted the air with her hand, as if to push away any explanations Taehyung could give.
"Look, ma'am. I have the money to get a bail, or even pay the fine. I don't want you to pay for me and then hold it above my head like a massive favour you have done for me." Fire blazed in his eyes as he spoke up, rather indignantly. "I can take care of myself." 
"To hell with that attitude," Ms. Park said. "I decided to help you because I didn't want you to suffer once again because of misunderstandings." She pulled Taehyung back to sit on his chair, clasping his hand between her wrinkled ones. "You had to go through so much pain at such a young age - no one deserves that. I was a mere bystander at the time you were arrested, and I regretted it then. I still regret it now." 
She sighed before caressing the back of his hand lovingly, thumb gently pressing on the skin- as if to feel the pain those hands had to go through, and you thought you saw a hint of a tear on his cheeks. "So don't question me for 'saving' you, or something - what you did was perfectly fine for me. I love the way my street looks now, and so do the neighbours. All that really remained was the artist's identity- and now that I know it's you, I don't feel any sort of guilt in justifying what you did." 
You were right. Taehyung was crying. It wasn't silent tears that rained gently down his cheeks, it was a whole thunderstorm. You saw the chief turn away, from the corner of your vision, but you couldn't bring yourself to do the same. He was biting on his bottom lip to hold back any of the sobs or whimpers that came, head lowering to hide the tears. 
Ms. Park simply caressed his hand, over and over, till he calmed down enough to wipe his tears with his free hand. And when he raised his head up, you saw him like a new person. The wound up Taehyung you had met again a few hours ago was slowly vanishing - in his stead, there was a free Taehyung who smiled like the world's burden had been lifted off his shoulders. "Thank you," he murmured. 
The chief sighed again. "I still don't understand how it came to this." 
"Neither do I," Ms. Park laughed. "But it is what it is. We'll pay the fine."
"I'll do it," Taehyung started, only to be shushed by the elder lady. "I want to do it. Let me do it." She turned again to the chief, the bubbly happiness giving way to seriousness. "You can make sure he pays the fine, right? Withdraw the complaints for us too." 
The chief looked at you and nodded, and you got to work - carefully opening the laptop again and making sure that you transferred the report from 'investigation' to 'resolved', and that the complaint was withdrawn. 
The chief, meanwhile, made physical records of it, and informed Taehyung of the fine - which, despite his insistence, Ms. Park paid off, whipping out a cheque she had kept ready, somehow. You added the details to his resolved record as the chief dictated them to you, keeping them for future references - which you hoped would only be needed to prove his innocence in any situation. 
Nearly twenty minutes of details, questioning, and a written assurance from Taehyung that he would be liable to arrest if he continued illegal activities, it was done. Taehyung was free. 
The chief read over the details once again, thoroughly, eyes getting heavier and softer with every document he checked. Once it was all done, filed, and you had stacked the records back in the drawers they were placed in, the chief sagged into the chair, hands clutching the steel arms for support. 
"Thank God," he whispered, eyes closed. "You're fine now." He got up shakily, hands wiping at his eyes to erase any traces of the tears that had possibly leaked out. He walked around the table, reaching for Taehyung - as if beyond the lines of that desk, his duties as an officer stopped and those as a teacher resumed. "Don't you dare do that again, Taehyung. Never again." He held his student by the shoulder tightly, gripping him and shaking him a little - like a parent would scold a kid. "Live a good life, please." 
Taehyung nodded frantically, eyes still wide in disbelief as he ignored the grubby tear streaks on his face. "I will, sir." He had his hands placed politely in front of him, trembling fingers clutching onto the rough denim fabric of the old, loose jeans you had made him wear. 
"Live well," the chief repeated again, thumping Taehyung's shoulder once and then turning around to collect the documents he would need to take with him. He bowed to Ms. Park, who acknowledged him before something at a corner of the small office caught her eye, and turned sharply to you. "Officer Y/N," he began, and you tensed a little bit more. "There was an opening last night in the forensic science department that I got notice of," he said, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips when he saw how your demeanor brightened. "Reach the head office tomorrow in the morning at ten, and I'll give you the details. All the best." 
You hastily held back the sudden smile that threatened to split on your face, smartly saluting your senior before he turned around to leave the office. As he opened the door, you felt a burst of warmth all over your body - the heat of the sunshine rushing into the room. 
Ms. Park walked from her corner to Taehyung, taking his palm between hers and squeezing. "I'm happy that you're free now, Taehyung." She looked carefully at his face - sternness making way for soft concern, and said, "Live wisely. If you need money, or a job to get you started, come to my shop - it's the one you painted with orchids. You remember it, right?" 
Taehyung responded with a rather choked 'yes', nodding his head frantically. He placed his other, trembling hand upon the lady's hands, and solemnly thanked her. 
"That's not needed, I told you." She smiled, before patting his cheek. "You deserve to let yourself live, so use this chance well. Work hard." She turned her head to look through the window behind her, groaning a bit at the sight of the brightly burning sun. "I better leave now - it seems that I'll end up getting a sunburn the nearer to twelve it is." She turned back to Taehyung, smiling softly, and patting his cheek. "Turn up at the shop tomorrow morning, we'll figure something out." 
"Oh, and officer?" she faced you, pointing in the corner where she was standing a few moments before. "I think my grandson had left his plushie over here a few days ago - it's this one, right?" You followed where her hand was pointing, finding a pumpkin plushie left casually on top of a table. "Sungwoo told me he had lost it some time ago, so I just thought it was this one," she laughed awkwardly. 
"I think it is his, he had come yesterday to file a missing complaint for it too," you said, causing Ms. Park to laugh. "He really loves it, doesn't he?" 
"He's not slept well since it went missing. Anyways, I better take it with me, if that's all."
"Just a moment, ma'am," you stopped her hastily. "He'd left a note for the plushie too - I believe Peter?" 
The elderly woman laughed at her grandson's antics, taking the note you offered her and grinning as she read it. "Yes, yes, Peter. I'll take the note with me. Thank you so much for everything, officer."
Thank you, you wish to say - unable to understand how she volunteered to be an eyewitness and defend the one person you cared so much for. Maybe words wouldn't be enough for you to convey how grateful you were to her, so you simply bowed to the woman. 
She took Taehyung's hand again, gently pressing on the back of his hand. "Your mother used to help me out in the shop, you know." Taehyung nodded, and she smiled. "Your hands are like hers. Delicate, yet strong. You can craft beauty with this hand, Taehyung." She squeezed his hand, smiling. "Don't just let that beauty slip away from you." 
She patted his hand again, before turning to you and smiling, and heading out. The sunlight bounced off her gray hair to shine on Taehyung as you looked at him - even with a tired expression, he looked more alive than you had seen him in the last few hours. 
"I'm free," he said, saying it aloud and letting himself feel the sensation for a few moments. 
He turned to you, watching the way your eyes told him that you understood everything you wanted to tell him - even the things he himself didn't understand. "I'm free, Y/N," he repeated, carefully examining his wrists that were once bound with handcuffs - no. There were no restraints there. 
His eyes panned around the room. There was no investigator who questioned him about why he simply couldn't admit his crime. No one who made fun of him for seeking comfort in his art - even if it was illegal. "I'm really free," he murmured again.
Taehyung leaped towards you, pulling you close and holding you tight, as if unable to believe that you were there with him: and that he was here with you for as long as he wanted to be. You let your arms circle around his neck, one curling through the hair at his nape and pulling him further into your embrace, and the other spread out over his back - trying to remind yourself that yes, he was here, with you. 
"Thank you," you felt him murmur into your shoulder. 
"For what?"
"Just being here. With me." He sighed, further tightening the hands that rested around your waist. "After so many unfamiliar faces over the years, seeing yours feels like a reward of sorts for behaving well." 
You laughed at him, slapping his back light heartedly. "Don't talk like you did anything wrong all those years ago. It's not good." You let your hands pane across the expanse of his skin, feeling him cling on to you as you tried to calm him down. "I'm happy for you, Tae." 
He held you like that, for a few more moments - like you were slowly pulling him back into what could be his new normal life. Waking up every day in a room that doesn't have steel bars as a door. Not having to crash at the old house that had haunted him for years. Not having to hide his face in the fear that someone would taunt him for his past. Actually doing something that made him feel happy, confident, and alive. 
"I'm happy too," he murmured into your shoulder. You hummed as he looked beyond your frame to see the streets outside the window - seeing how they were illuminated in daylight. How animatedly people were talking about what their plans for the day were. A kid kept hopping on a chalk drawing of hopscotch he had drawn on the footpath, clutching onto a plushie that oddly seemed like a pumpkin. Someone walked around their stall, setting things up for the day. 
You pulled him away from your grip to look at him again - not wanting to forget any part of him in any way. "I still care for you as much as I did all those years ago, you know." You put your hands on his biceps, just as you used to do when you had to knock sense into your friend. "You better not hide anything from me now." 
"I have no intentions of," he grinned. "Thank you very much." 
You giggled, a feeling you hadn't felt in years fluttering around your stomach like butterflies. 
"About us," Taehyung began, holding your hands in his, "You know that I love you, right?" You felt yourself tense up, and probably Taehyung did too, as he squeezed your hands. "I'm not in any hurry. I want to take some time to understand myself and what I want to do before I think of anything with you. But when I'm settled, and I'm someone I can be proud of, I want to come back to you. Be with you forever." He let go of your hands to hold your cheeks, smiling as he saw your big eyes peer at him. "You'll let me, right?" 
Your eyes softened. "Of course, Taehyung."
"Tae." He corrected you, coming closer to press a kiss on your forehead. 
You smiled when he moved back, glancing down at all of him and laughing. "For beginners, how about we get you clothes to change into?" 
He looked down at his clothes, laughing with you. "Let's go, then?" 
You nodded at him, pulling him out of the office, and locking it securely before turning to a widely grinning Taehyung. "I have a feeling I'm going to love the daytime. It's just so positive, and nice, don't you think? Really warm all over." 
"You're just saying that because you lived like a night owl," you laughed at him, watching his eyes sparkle in the sunshine. 
"Yeah, that wasn't the best way to live, was it?" He clicked his tongue and frowned. "Guess I better start living well now. To new beginnings, then, Officer!!" He grinned and poked your forehead. 
You watched Taehyung skip over the pebbles that were lined outside the office, walking freely on the streets, feeling the dread that you had let build up in your heart for so long slowly drain out of you. "Wait for me!" You screamed behind him, running to catch up to him. To new beginnings, you thought. 
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a/n: hopefully, this piece of writing was worth your time 😊 thank you so much for reading graffiti and chalk!! I'd love to hear any feedback you have. Feel free to send it in as a comment, reblog, or as an ask! love, hazel 💞
taglist: @taejinnies (the torture is over bahaha), @xiaokoo, @thedarkwinterrose, @shatzkrinslinzki
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tothemeadow · 4 years
Text
For day 6, may I request Tengen 👀?
Hello! May I please ask for day 6 w tengen? Particularly the biting 👀 thank you!!!
Day 6: angry/hate fucking / hair pulling / biting
warnings: NSFW, slight degradation, spanking
words: 2,061
(a/n): art is not mine, female reader
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What Tengen wants, Tengen gets.
There’s no room for argument. It’s pointless, really, since he can either chuck the person or scream in their face. There’s only two people that don’t fit into this category: Oyakata-sama, and you. Granted, he respects his leader with all of his being. But you, on the other hand, are as stubborn as it gets.
Frankly, you piss him off and vice versa. The two of butt heads on a regular basis; typically, when at a Pillar meeting, Gyomei or Kyojuro have to sit between you two. Sure, you get along with everyone else, but Tengen? Fat fucking chance.
He teases you relentlessly, trying at every chance he can to get a rise out of you. He finds it absolutely hilarious when your face scrunches into an angry expression. However, knowing that he finds enjoyment in this, you keep a stoic expression around him constantly. Every little jab gets turned away, every innuendo gets scoffed at. The stick up your ass needs to be pulled out, in his opinion. If he wanted to hang out with someone who’s a wet blanket, he’d stick around Giyuu.
So, how the two of you were put on a mission together, he has no fucking clue.
Traveling together is a big no-no. The two of you argued the entire time about every single thing: where to go, how to deal with the demon, what’s the game plan, etc. Which, in itself, yeah, a lot of people would argue over that. But, as it’s always the same case with you two, nothing can go smoothly.
“For the gods’ sakes, Uzui, let’s just find a hotel for the night,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. The lack of a proper formality with his surname makes his blood boil.
“And do what? Share a room with you? No thanks. I’ll pass.”
You click your tongue in irritation. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize your pussy ass wanted to stay outside all night. Suit yourself, meathead. I’m going to stay somewhere nice and dry.”
Tengen glances around at the surrounding buildings of the small town. It’s said that a demon is lurking outside its perimeters, settling in the woods between this town and the next. There’s still quite a bit of distance to travel, but you’re set on finding a place to stay for the night. Tengen mutters to himself, saying how positively infuriating you are, but he follows you nonetheless.
The hotel you find is a clean, one story building. Multiple lanterns fill up the lobby, cast a warm, welcoming glow on the little old lady sitting at the front table. Tengen watches as you step up to her, a pleasant smile on your face. For a split second, Tengen wonders if he could ever get you to smile at him like that. It’s a loss cause, but the hope is still there.
“Oh, is this your husband?” the elderly woman asks.
Tengen snaps to attention, his whole body going rigid.
You chuckle awkwardly. “Well, uh…”
Quickly stepping forward, Tengen relaxes and throws an arm over your shoulders. “I sure am, miss,” Tengen says, a charming smile spreading across his face. The elderly woman visibly swoons. “In fact, we’re on our honeymoon right now.” The elderly woman gasps in delight while you merely gawk up at him. Tengen turns to you with a mischievous smirk.
“Oh, my!” the elderly woman chirps. “Congratulations! What a fine groom you have, dear,” she says to you. “You two certainly make for an attractive couple.”
Tengen layers on the charm. “You think so? I must say thank you, miss. I truly am blessed to have such a beautiful woman in my life.”
You stiffen under his beefy arm. “That’s right,” you say awkwardly. “We just wed a few nights ago. We’re traveling somewhat before settling down.”
The elderly woman waves her small hands dismissively. “No need to explain, dear! I get it, you two want time alone.” She flashes you a sly smile. “Would you be interested in the honeymoon suite? It comes with a private hot spring.”
“We’ll take it,” Tengen quickly interjects before you can say anything. You send him a deathly stare.
Soon enough, the elderly woman guides you to the proper room and waves you off with a sweet goodnight. As soon as she disappears, you reel around, your fist slamming into Tengen’s arm.
“What the fuck was that?”
The pleasant smile Tengen wore (for the hostess, of course) rapidly fell. “You wanted to stay in a hotel, remember? Might as well get a room where we can sleep further apart.”
“Oh. My. Gods, Uzui! Are you blind? There’s only one futon!” you screech. “I am not sleeping with you!”
Tengen scoffs, a neatly groomed eyebrow cocking itself. “I’m sorry; didn’t you call me a pussy ass earlier for not wanting to do anything with you? Did I not just score us the best room in this entire hotel? And at a discount, if I may add.” He crosses his thick arms over his chest. “I’d be saying thank you, sweetheart. Sleep outside for all I care.”
You bristle at him. “You’re such an arrogant bastard. Gods, I could choke you right now.”
“I dare you.”
“Bite me, Uzui,” you snip. Turning away, you shrug your haori off and remove your blade from your hip. You set them off to the side, careful with how you handle them. Glancing over your shoulder, you notice how Tengen hasn’t moved. He hasn’t said anything in return, either. Oh well. You prefer him being silent any day.
“Stop calling me that,” Tengen murmurs.
You turn to him fully and raise your brows. “I’m sorry?”
“Stop calling me Uzui,” Tengen snarls.
“Oh, did I hurt your feelings?” you taunt. “Get over it, Uzui.”
Everything happens in a flash; one moment, you’re standing away from him; the next, you’re on the floor beneath him, your hands and knees digging into the tatami. Tengen’s thick fingers and tangled in your hair, forcibly yanking your head back. You blink frantically, wondering how the actual hell you ended up in this position.
“You wanna say that again, sweetheart?” Tengen growls. Leaning over your smaller frame, he presses his back into you, his crotch meeting your ass.
“Let me go,” you snap. “I’m not in the mood for this crap.” You yelp as Tengen pulls tighter on your hair.
“Apologize.”
“For what?” you spit. “It’s not my fault that you’re sensitive.”
“And it’s not my fault that you’re a raging bitch.”
You scoff underneath him. “Just- Fuck, just let me go, okay?” Although your mind is clearly wanting him to get off of you, your body is saying other things. You involuntarily shiver as Tengen brushes his lips against your ear.
“Call me crazy… But I think you like me being on you this way,” Tengen taunts. He quickly nips at your earlobe, eliciting a sharp inhale from you. “You want me, don’t you?” Tengen huffs a laugh. “At least your body does, anyway.”
You don’t have the heart to tell him no. And, if you’re being brutally honest, it’d be a lie. You cannot pretend that your back isn’t arching, your ass pushing against his crotch, the heavy pants coming from your mouth. It’s obvious to the two of you that you clearly want him. It’s only a matter of admitting it.
You bite your lip as Tengen pulls away. You force your nerves to steel themselves as a large hand caresses your ass through your hakama, the fingers drumming against the plump flesh. You should’ve have seen it coming, really – the sharp smack as his hand meets your asscheek harshly. You jolt with the movement, your palms brushing against the rough surface of the tatami.
“Count to ten,” Tengen says. His voice is icy, his usual playfulness completely gone. Your breath hitches in your throat as he spanks you again. “I said to count.”
“Fuck, okay,” you squeak. “O-one.”
He spanks you again. You jolt.
“Two…”
You try to keep your sounds to a minimum as he continues to bring a hand down on your ass. You force yourself to stay upright, no matter how bad the friction is burning your hands. You count along with each spank, your voice growing more and more hoarse with each number you speak.
“These damn things- Take them off,” Tengen spits. He frantically undoes your belt and pulls your hakama off, your tabi following straight after. He practically tears your undergarments into pieces as he rips them off, leaving you completely bare from the waist down. His hand caresses the same asscheek he spanked, his fingers kneading at the stinging flesh. “You ready to say my name yet, sweetheart?”
You keen as he grips on your hair once more; heat floods your lower belly, coils around your insides. A gasp leaves your lips as he presses your face and chest against the floor, your ass hanging in the air. Slick coats the insides of your thighs, and you know for a fact that Tengen’s staring straight at your pussy. A finger scoops up the slick covering your inner thigh and promptly pushes it back inside.
“You’re fucking soaking wet,” Tengen purrs. “Why won’t you look at that.”
He’s not a single ounce gentle as he thrusts his finger into you. Your cunt easily sucks him all the way to the second knuckle, causing the both of you to groan simultaneously. A second finger joins the first, then a third. His fingers fuck into you relentlessly, curling against your velvety walls and seeking out your most sensitive spot.
“Tengen,” you mewl, your hips shifting backwards. “That feels good.”
Tengen scoffs. “Funny how you only comply when your cunt’s stuffed with something.” You hear the shuffling of clothing, then something hard press against your slit. “Pathetic. You only want me for my cock, huh? Dirty whore. You should see yourself – your cunt is begging for me to fuck it.”
Gritting your teeth, you grind back against him. The head of his cock slips inside, replacing where his fingers used to be. A high-pitched whine fills the room; Tengen yanks on your hair even harder, pulling you off your hands and solely onto your knees. His cock drives in deeper, leaves you gasping and keening.
“Fuck, sweetheart, your dirty little pussy is so tight,” Tengen growls into your ear. “I’ll fuck it straight into your mind, you got it? My name is Tengen. It’s Tengen’s cock that’s stuffing you. Call me Uzui again and you won’t cum.”
“Oh gods, Tengen,” you moan, frantically reaching behind and grabbing onto any part of him you can find. You cry out as his teeth sinks into you neck; he fucks into you with a fast, merciless pace. Squeezing your eyes shut, you lose yourself in the feeling.
Your scalp burns, along with your neck. Tengen leaves marks up and down your neck, the imprint of his teeth feeling especially raw. The hand in your hair keeps you in place while the other slips between your legs, finding your clit and pinching it. Animalistic sounds erupt from your throat as he plays with you, fucks you with vigor, treats you like a personal chew toy. His name leaves your lips in a mantra. Everything is so hot and good and fuck his cock is pressing up against your cervix and you’re reaching cloud nine-
The knot inside your belly snaps. You cry out as you cum around his cock, your breath getting stuck in your throat. Tengen continues to fuck you through your orgasm, his own moans intermingling with yours. Soon enough, his thrusts turn erratic; he fucks into you messily, his pants reaching your ears. A sexy grunt of your name graces the air as he cums. A mixture of slick and cum spews out around his cock as he rides his orgasm out.
“Fuck,” he says as he finally pulls out. Sitting himself on the floor, he tugs you along so that you’re on his lap. He flicks damp strands of silvery hair from his forehead. “You good, sweetheart?”
Looking to him, you bite your lip. “You’re such an asshole, Tengen.” You loop your arms around his neck. “Take me to the hot spring.”
The corners of his mouth twitch into a smile. “Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”
335 notes · View notes
kaizokuou-ni-naru · 4 years
Text
The Voyage So Far: Skypiea
east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)
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the bar scene in jaya is one i didn’t really get the first time i read it- like nami, i mostly found luffy and zoro’s refusal to fight back frustrating more than anything else. i didn’t realize the connection to shanks in the prologue until someone else pointed it out awhile later, but when i did, it made me appreciate the entire sequence and luffy’s choices a lot more. 
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honestly, i know this is one of the pages that gets the most attention from jaya, and it absolutely deserves it. blackbeard here is effectively dropping one of the biggest main themes of the series- people’s dreams don’t end!!- and how interesting that we get that delivered by the antagonist to the protagonist, instead of the other way around? how often do you see a series do that? 
and the line hits. look at the emphasis. there’s absolutely nothing on these two pages except for the three strawhats, blackbeard, and blackbeard’s line, bigger than anything else. 
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chapter 232, with luffy punching out bellamy in one hit is still, to this day, probably my favorite one piece chapter. it opens with the drunk pirate seeing the newspaper with luffy’s hundred million bounty and realizing just who bellamy was kicking around, and it hits on one of my favorite plot threads of one piece- the growing infamy of the strawhats and luffy in particular, and their rise in the world. 
the atmosphere of the whole scene is so good, the tension in their air, the way all the bar patrons jump when luffy yells for bellamy to come out- and when the hit comes, the satisfaction is visceral. 
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i’ve talked about it before, but god, i LOVE the way one piece defines “romance”- the arthurian kind of romance, the adventurous kind, that romanticizes the world and its wonders- romance dawn. in an arc as thematically heavy as jaya, it makes sense that it, too, is explicitly brought up. can you think of a more romantic, impossible adventure than traveling to the sky?
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nami’s confidence when faced with the task of navigating into the sky is so fantastic. 
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the expressions, and the art in general, in skypiea, are really so lovely. look at the variety between the strawhats when they first emerge from the white-white sea to lay eyes on angel island. look how expressive they all are!! i have such a soft place in my heart for the art in these earlier arcs, honestly.
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somewhat related to the above: there are so many little moments in skypiea where the strawhats just get to have FUN, and be stupid, and get fleshed out more as characters, and honestly it’s such a delight. also, everyone’s skypiea outfits were just really really good. cowboy hat robin... i miss u every day 
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i really like the whole scene where robin is exploring the ruins, and these panels in particular have such a lovely sort of ethereal look to them. i love seeing robin doing archeology, i think for the same reason i love to see sanji cooking- the strawhats are all such cool and passionate people, and it’s really really nice to see them doing and talking about the things they love and excel at most. 
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i’m sure i’ve said it before but i LOVE how logia powers are depicted, especially when used to avoid an attack. it’s so cool. ace’s cover story runs through most of this arc, and we get some great examples of it there as well. 
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1. wife 
2. skypiea is SUCH a good character-building arc for robin- which is good, because the next saga is almost entirely predicated on how much both the audience and the strawhats care about her. it’s here where we learn about her passion for archeology, her reverence for history, and get a much better look at the softer sides of her personality and her fast-growing admiration and affection for the strawhats. 
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man, enel has so many huge, terrifyingly powerful shows of force throughout this arc, but this right here, this little sequence where he appears behind raki between panels without warning and we see him reflected in her eye, communicates better than absolutely anything else just why he’s a nightmare.
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“jonny you sure are posting a lot of panels of zoro being cool without any real commentary” yeah. he kicks ass in this arc 
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conis is a very underrated character, i think. she’s pretty easy to overlook, but she also manages to completely break the indoctrination she’s been raised into and gambles her own life to save most of the population of angel island from complete extermination. she yells that she doesn’t recognize enel as god, an instant death sentence at any other time, just to get them to listen to her. 
there’s a moment, in this scene, where a boy throws a rock at her for insulting enel, and she just stands there, and lets the blood trickle down her face, and keeps making her case. honestly, i really like her.
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look at this page. look how it’s framed. luffy in the foreground, taking up most of the page- enel in the background, tiny, inconsequential. 
now that’s how you draw god’s natural enemy. 
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this is one of my favorite nami character moments in the whole manga. nami is a greedy person. she has a lot of things she wants. it’s one of her defining traits. 
but when faced with someone with godlike power, offering her absolutely anything she wants if she’ll just abandon her friends and come with him- she doesn’t want anything, for that price, even with her life on the line if she declines. she knows exactly what her treasure is. 
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obviously this is an awesome panel, but sanji’s little smile just before enel strikes him is what really, really makes it for me. he’s about to get slammed with several thousand volts of lightning, but more importantly, nami and usopp are going to be safe. 
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the skypiea flashback is one of my very favorites, and also the first time one piece ever made me cry. i nearly cried just flipping through it again for this post. it’s just so fucking devastating.
noland never stopped looking, and calgara never stopped waiting, and neither of them ever lost faith in each other despite how badly they fell out at the end, and wow, that just kills me. but at the same time, it makes the way the flashback and the main story come together at the end so satisfying and cathartic.
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i do think skypiea has one of the best climaxes of any arc. the way all the disparate elements and plot threads- enel, the story of noland and calgara, the war between the skypieans and shandians, cricket’s search down on jaya- come together and tie up so perfectly that the entire arc can be ended by the ringing of a single massive bell is nothing less than genius writing. 
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i really love the establishment of roger’s poneglyph message and all the things it implies here. it raises so many questions, most of which we’ve only now gotten answered, in wano. oda’s capacity for long-term storytelling is one of his greatest strengths, and this is probably one of my favorite examples of it. (see also, in jaya when sanji mentions offhand that he was born in north blue.)
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i just really love seeing them all smiling, and i love the parallels to calgara and noland’s sendoff here. feels like a wound finally healing, after four hundred years. 
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and, of course, it ends with cricket, asking what crazy, romantic dream they’re going to chase down next. because this is one piece!! just because you find the end of one rainbow doesn’t mean you stop looking for the next one. 
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refinedbuffoonery · 3 years
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Looking Through A Window (7)
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macriley married undercover au
masterlist.
Sorry for the delay! I either have my shit together in real life or fandom life, but never both at the same time lol. Anyway, I got endless joy from reading all your reactions to last chapter’s clifhanger (sorry not sorry). I didn’t respond to comments because I don’t trust myself not to spoil anything, but just know that I appreciate every single one of your theories. Also, many of you were at least somewhat correct. (Yikes am I becoming predictable?? Gotta fix that.) This chapter ends at a good stopping point, so I’m going to switch gears and write a couple chapters of other fics (which I encourage you to read!!) before coming back to this. But fear not! I have big plans for the future of this fic, and I’ll send you all down the theory rabbit hole soon enough. xoxo
*****
The world narrows until Mac is only aware of two things: his racing heart and the fact that Riley is gone. 
The blood is fresh, but there’s no sign of a struggle—no sign of anything, really. The windows are locked and unbroken, the bedroom door is half-closed the way it always is. Not a single thing is out of place…except for Riley. 
So, where the hell is she? 
His body goes taut as the worst case scenario plays in his mind. Please don’t be gone, Mac silently begs. Please. 
The apartment is quiet. Too quiet. So when the shower turns on with a loud thunk, Mac flinches. Hard. Without thinking, he scrambles out of bed and lunges for the bathroom door. 
As he bursts through the door, Mac’s awareness shifts to three things: Riley is alive, she’s naked, and she’s screaming. 
“Mac!” She hisses, glaring over her shoulder. If looks could kill, he’d be very, very dead by now. At least her back is to him. “What the hell?” 
Mac barely hears her over the roaring in his ears. He scans her naked body, trying and failing to be professional as he scans for injuries. 
His eyes land on the blood smeared between her thighs, then the thin stream rolling down the inside of her knee. As understanding dawns on him, Mac holds out his own blood-covered hand in silent explanation. 
Riley winces. “Sorry about the blood.” 
Mac still feels a little disconnected from his body when he says, “I was afraid you were dead.”
Embarrassment floods Riley’s face. She begs,“Can we please finish this conversation when I’m not naked and bleeding all over the floor?” Mac’s gaze automatically flicks to the drops of blood between her feet, but he doesn’t move. His limbs are still frozen in place, the way they’ve been since he found her. “Get out!” Riley snaps. 
His own embarrassment finally taking hold, Mac stumbles backward, tripping over the door frame on his way out. 
While Riley showers, Mac busies himself by stripping the bed and washing the sheets and blankets. Not just because it needs to be done, but because it’s easier to process emotions when his hands are busy. It feels like he just experienced the entire spectrum of human emotion in the span of three minutes, and now all these untethered feelings are floating around in his head. As he works, Mac examines them one by one. 
He woke up this morning wanting to cuddle with Riley. Not just wanting to, but comfortable enough to act on that desire. 
When his hand landed in the blood, his brain immediately jumped to the worst case scenario. He is deeply afraid of said scenario. 
Then panic set in, as he desperately tried to prove himself wrong. 
Followed by relief at finding Riley and learning the blood was not from an injury, but from a normal bodily function. 
Then embarrassment, because he freaked out and barged in on her over something he could’ve deduced for himself if only he’d just stopped to think. He’s supposed to be smart, so why couldn’t that big brain of his, as Jack would say, figure this out? 
The answer to that question, at least, comes easily: Because it’s Riley, and he doesn’t always think with his head when it comes to her. 
For example, while he’s mortified at seeing her naked, a part of him wishes she’d been facing the other direction. 
Mac starts the washing machine and decides to do the mature thing and hide in the kitchen for the entire foreseeable future. He spies Harley lying on the couch, gazing out a window. “And where were you for all of this?” he asks. “A heads-up would’ve been nice.” 
Harley stares at him for a few seconds before resuming her vigil, and Mac hears the message, loud and clear: You’re on your own. 
When Riley still hasn’t emerged from the bedroom long after the shower turned off, Mac suspects that she’s hiding too. He doesn’t blame her. 
It’s late morning by the time the laundry is finished, and Mac can’t hide any longer. Clutching the still-warm sheets and blankets to his chest, he cautiously ventures into the bedroom. Riley is lying on the bed with her knees tucked up to her chin, and a pang of sympathy echoes in Mac’s chest. Her eyes are closed, but Mac doubts that she’s actually asleep. 
Dropping the sheets on the floor, he asks, “Are you alive?” 
Riley groans. “No.” 
“Could you please go die on the couch then, so I can make the bed?” She groans again and mumbles something incoherent. “Also you’ll feel better if you eat something.” 
“No I won’t.” She sounds like a whining toddler, and Mac has to stifle a snort. Still, a bit of the awkwardness dissipates. But only a bit. 
“Yes you will. I know you, Miss Hangry.” 
“I’m not hangry.” 
“Says the one who skipped breakfast.” 
“I was hiding from you.” 
“So was I,” Mac confesses. Riley cracks a single eye open at that, just in time to see his cheeks heat. “Trust me, I am way more embarrassed than you.” 
It takes him a second to notice that she’s blushing too. “Wanna bet?” 
Mac starts putting the fitted sheet on the unoccupied side of the mattress. “I didn’t see anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Nothing he hasn’t seen before, anyway, but Mac wisely decides to keep that part to himself. “Victoria’s secret is still a secret,” he adds with a wink. 
Riley rolls her eyes. “You did not just say that.” 
“Made you laugh, didn’t it?” Mac gives her a shit-eating grin, and despite her best attempt at hiding it, amusement slips through the cracks in Riley’s unimpressed facade. 
“Whatever. We don’t have to do anything today, do we?” Mac raises his brow at the question. For all the years he’s known Riley, she’s always been more of a ‘suck it up’ kind of person, not a ‘stay in bed’ person. So her question is surprising, if not mildly concerning. 
“Nope.” He pauses. “Are you okay? This isn’t like you.” 
Riley rolls onto her back. “Dude, it feels like someone took a cheese grater to my insides.” 
Mac winces at the mental image. “Ouch.” 
She pauses, as if contemplating her next words before she says them. “I got a new IUD a couple months ago, and this one makes my cramps way worse. I used to be able to ignore them, but this sucks.” 
Not knowing how to reply to that, he squeezes Riley’s ankle in a way he hopes is reassuring. Mac flicks his gaze up to meet hers and finds Riley already looking at him. Her gaze is warm and steady, but Mac can see hints of pain clouding her dark eyes. He thinks it isn’t fair that her body turns on her like this. 
"I'm getting back in bed the second you're done making it," she warns. 
"Go right ahead." 
Riley wanders into the kitchen, and, true to her word, reappears right when Mac finishes smoothing down the comforter, with Harley at her heels. To Mac's surprise, Harley jumps on the bed, waits for Riley to get situated, and then tucks herself into Riley's side. A smile blooms on his face. Riley puts an arm around Harley, pulling the dog into her stomach before moving to scratch her head. When Harley licks Riley’s face in return, Mac suddenly gets the feeling he's watching something private. 
Satisfied that Riley is in capable hands, Mac leaves without another word.
*****
Beneath the weathered wooden conference table, Harley’s head rests on Mac’s foot as she dozes through the Patriots’ council meeting. When they arrived, no one looked more put off by their presence than Conrad, but, true to his word, Ethan welcomed Mac and Riley with open arms and encouraged their participation. A murmur of dissent snaked through the room, but no one openly questioned Ethan’s decision to include them. 
Twenty minutes in, Mac would rather be anywhere but here. The “meeting” so far has been very little business and mostly rehashing some fishing trip a few of the guys went on over the weekend. Mac is holding out hope that it won’t be a complete waste of his time, but said hope dwindles each time someone exaggerates about the size of a fish. 
There’s nothing interesting to look at in the room, save for Riley. No art, no plants, no wall of guns. Not even a clock. Just drab gray walls with no windows. And he doesn’t dare study any of the men for longer than a second or two each. Making an enemy is as easy as looking at someone the wrong way, and Mac has no desire to antagonize the other members of the Patriots…at least not yet. 
Extricating his foot from beneath Harley’s head, he’s just about to make an excuse about needing to use the restroom when Ethan’s phone rings. After quickly checking it, Ethan excuses himself from the meeting with a curt nod to Conrad. Mac understands the look; he’s given and received it countless times himself, after all. Permission to continue without him. Because despite his tendency to toe the line, Conrad is still Ethan’s trusted lieutenant. The exchange is subtle, practiced, and apparently insignificant to the other men at the table, who are somehow still talking about fish. 
When the storytelling finally lulls, Conrad clears his throat. "Let's start with recruitment. Report." No nonsense, right to the point. Maybe he’s tired of the fish conversation too. 
As Conrad steers the conversation through the various items on the agenda, Mac realizes two things. 
One, the Patriots are far more organized than he originally made them out to be. This is no grassroots startup, and their plans go much deeper than protests and parking lot shootings. 
Two, Conrad is careful not to let anyone share too much information, instead asking everyone to give their detailed reports in individual meetings. And it's more than just trying to keep him and Riley in the dark. It's almost as if…almost as if Conrad doesn't want anyone to see the big picture besides himself. 
Mac decides to take his theory for a test drive. "I know I'm new here," he says, "but why have everyone meet with you a second time individually instead of sharing their full reports now? Wouldn't that be a better use of time?" 
Conrad sneers. "On the contrary, boy, why would I waste everyone's time making them listen to information they don't need to know?" 
It takes every ounce of Mac’s self control not to roll his eyes. 
Beneath the table, Riley grips his knee, nails digging in through his khakis. Mac wants to tell her that he’s thinking the same thing she is, but he can’t. The best he can settle for is a brief touch on her arm before needing to do something with his hands to distract himself from the way his skin burns under her touch. He elects to drum his fingers on the table, mostly to push Conrad’s buttons even further. 
If Conrad’s furrowed brow is any indication, it works. 
“Do you mind?” Conrad says with a pointed glare at Mac’s hand. 
Feigning ignorance, Mac replies, “Mind about what?” 
“The tapping.” 
“Oh!” Mac makes a show of sliding his gaze down to his hand before flattening his palm against the table. “My bad.” 
Looking none too pleased, Conrad moves on, but to Mac’s surprise, the man sitting beside him leans in to whisper, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. He's not the one to piss off." His words are tinged with genuine concern, and under different circumstances, Mac would appreciate the advice. 
"He's a man," Mac whispers back, "just like everyone else at this table." Minus Riley, of course. 
The man presses on. "The previous occupant of your seat was shot point blank for asking too many questions." Mac's brows raise at that. "You're sitting in a dead man's chair." 
Mac pockets that little detail gratefully, but he hesitates before ultimately heeding the man's warning. He fiddles with the button on his sleeve, impatiently waiting for the meeting to end so he can share his theory with Riley. 
What Mac doesn't anticipate is Riley beating him to it, pulling him aside before they're even back in the car. "Conrad's compartmentalizing information," she says in a quiet, confident tone. 
They’re too exposed to be having this conversation. Mac nervously checks for eavesdroppers, but doesn’t spot any. Deeming it safe for now, he replies, "Yeah I thought so too." 
"He's made himself essential. No one else knows how everything works." Riley pauses, eyes catching on something over his shoulder. Barely audibly, she adds, "An asshole and a control freak." He doesn’t need to turn around to know she’s looking at Conrad, not when she has a white-knuckled grip on Harley’s leash. 
"So if we eliminate him…" 
Riley nods in understanding. He’s controlling everything in an attempt to rise through the rankings and seize power. So if they eliminate Conrad, the whole organization may very well come tumbling down in his wake. 
Now they just have to figure out how the hell to accomplish that. 
"What if we help him?" Riley suggests, reading Mac’s mind. 
"What?" 
"We've spent all this time looking for the weakest link, but maybe…maybe we need to attach ourselves to the strongest one." A stray curl falls in Riley's face, and as she brushes it behind her ear, Mac absentmindedly wishes his fingers were brushing it back instead. Riley continues, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think we should help him become more powerful than he already is. That way, we can do as much damage as possible when we take him out." 
A man they don't know walks by, and Mac nods in greeting. Waiting for the man to move out of earshot, Mac drops to one knee, giving Harley a good scratch. She wags her tail and opens her mouth in a smile, clearly enjoying the attention. When the coast is clear again, Mac says, "You just made this op so much longer, but I think you're right." 
Riley snorts. "What, is there somewhere else you need to be?" 
Gazing up at the woman before him, the answer is obvious. Not unless you're coming with me. 
*****
In the gray hour before dawn crests over the world, Mac wakes to something tickling his nose. He exhales sharply, trying to blow it away, but the tickle persists.
His face is pressed into the nape of Riley's neck, and a deep inhale causes a few strands of her hair to go up his nostrils. Reaching up to brush Riley’s hair out of his face, he hesitates right before his calloused fingers brush her skin, afraid that even the barest touch will shatter the moment. As soon as Riley wakes, he'll have to hide behind his mask of indifference, and Mac isn't ready to do that yet. 
For as long as he dares, Mac allows himself to imagine what it would be like to wake up with Riley for real, in his own home. He sees her curled in his bed, sheets pulled up to her chin, hears the soft, steady cadence of her breathing, smells the lingering traces of perfume on her skin. 
Riley stirs in his arms, and the vision blurs, moving out of reach. Mac grasps for it, but it evaporates into nothingness as she settles back against him. 
He shifts his focus to the very real sensation of Riley’s body tucked into his. Her back to his chest, his leg slotted between hers, her ass pressed against his—
Shit. 
Mac jerks backward, trying to put as much space between them as possible before Riley wakes and realizes just what she scooted back against. 
Except, in his haste, Mac doesn’t realize there’s a third party present until his foot slams into the small, warm body lying at the foot of the bed. Guilt washes over him at Harley’s ensuing yelp. 
Awake, Riley mumbles, “Did you just kick the dog?” 
“It was an accident!” Mac insists, sitting up. He turns his attention to Harley. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. You can come back if you want.” He pats the bed in a way he hopes is reassuring, but Harley merely eyes him with suspicion before slinking out of the room. 
“I can’t believe you kicked the dog,” Riley says, still half-asleep. “She finally slept with us, and you betrayed her.” 
“I told you it was an accident!” 
“Betrayal.” 
Mac rakes a hand through his hair. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?” 
“Nope.” Riley sighs, rolling back to her side of the bed, and Mac isn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. Or maybe a little bit of both. “You better go apologize.” 
Mac scoffs. “And let you take over the entire bed while I’m gone? I don’t think so.” 
And there it is. The closest they’ve come to acknowledging the evolution of their bed-sharing habits. Particularly the newfound lack of sticking to their respective sides. If he’s being honest with himself, Mac doesn’t know where to go from here. He wants to see it as a sign of things changing between them. Obviously Riley is aware of their precarious positioning, but based on her casual relocation, she doesn’t see this any differently than the dozens of times they’ve slept squished in a small space together in the past. Whether she’s aware of the other thing, she doesn’t let on. 
“Your funeral,” Riley says, pulling Mac out of his head. 
Right. 
The dog. 
The dog whose forgiveness he needs to earn via extra breakfast. Maybe extra dinner too. 
Sighing, Mac goes after her, cursing his inability to get things right with either of the females in this house. 
.
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45 notes · View notes
writingsfromhome · 4 years
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Bad Timing IV
A/N: To all the soft hearted crybabies requesting it: here’s part 4 to dry your tears from part 3. Thanks for all the interaction with this series, you guys are the best! <3<3<3<3
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4
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I take my coffee to the little patio in the backyard of my childhood home, breathing deeply. It was a couple weeks since the traumatic incident at the bank, the one where I nearly died and found a way to live again. The higher ups practically begged me to take paid leave, I had a feeling they just didn’t want me to take anything to court. I’d told them I would take the month, and knew I would hand in my resignation thereafter. I enjoyed my job as much as the next person but it was too much for me. It felt like closing a door on a chapter of my life that I wanted to move on from.
And now, I could truly relax, I wasn’t running away from anything for the first time in my life. After everything that happened in that small restroom at the back of the bank, Harry and I came to a peace. And I’d only moved on from there.
“You’re up early,” my dad comes into view, a cup of tea in hand. “Your flight doesn’t leave until tonight right?”
“Yeah, just thought I would appreciate the views before I go back to a city,” I move my feet off the chair so he could sit.
“You can come here anytime.”
“I know,” I wrap my hands around my mug. “Coming here it just...reminds me of mum. And it’s hard...”
“This is how I stay connected to her,” he pats the table between us. “She loved this place, her garden and those darn birds she fed all the time.”
“You feed them now,” I look to the birdfeeder filled lovingly to the brim with seeds.
“I do it because...” he says quietly. “It’s what she would want.”
I think about my mum, what she would want. It hurt when I thought about how she left me, married and happy in love. And then how much hurt I went through, always wishing she was there. In some way I know she knew--wherever she was. But I wish I could hear her, I wish I could have a love like she had.
“So, when do I get to meet this new boy of yours?” My dad asks.
“Dad, you know his name’s Alec.”
“I would if I met him, put a face to the name.”
I roll my eyes, my dad was a bit overprotective after everything that’s happened in my life. I think he felt guilty in a small way, him and Harry always got on--we teased them about their bromance. He was just as blindsided as me. But I’d told my dad everything that happened the first night I came over. He hadn’t judged, just listened, hugged me tightly, and left to make me a cup of tea. That was the most expressive my dad got.
After Alec took me back from from the hospital, I asked him to stay. And he had stayed since, making it official from casual to dating. It was scary but life was too short to hold back I had learned. I had to hold onto a good thing when I had one.
As for Harry, he hadn’t called me since that day he visited me. I’d left him a couple texts--when I was discharged home, and again to ask him how he was doing a week later. He’d sent a thumbs up and that was it. I thought we were okay, but he blew me off even when I tried to call him. It hurt a little, but I’d been so busy packing and getting on, that I let him be for now. I would wait until after visiting my sister to find out where his head was at.
H’s POV
It’s been nearly a month since I walked out of Y/N’s hospital room, and we’d just about tied all the lose ends from the case. The only thing about it all that lingered on my mind was Y/N. I missed her more than I had all these years apart, but I sat in the ache of wanting. It was time I catch up to the consequences of my past actions. I turned to writing, starting again after years of thinking I no longer had a passion for it. It felt freeing.
She’d texted me, called me too. I tried not to respond even though everything in me wanted to pick up the phone and ask her out to dinner, invite her over for a movie, ask her if she wanted to take my car and drive out somewhere like we used to after exams in uni. But I let her be, imagining that she was happy somewhere. With Alec, or whoever she wanted to be with.
The last thing I expect, is for her to be standing outside my station late Thursday night.
“Y/N?” I almost don’t recognise her. Gone was her stern bun and smart suit. Strands of her hair frame her face, like a piece of art on display. She has on a loose jumper and tights, a bum bag strapped across her chest that she roots through for something.
“Harry!” she drops her hands. “I’ve only been waiting here for...20 minutes, when your receptionist said your shift ended?”
“I had to finish up some paperwork. Why didn’t you call me?.”
“It’s not like you would’ve answered.” her hands on her hips, attitude dripping from every inch of her. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“You look different,” I dodge the topic.
“I know,” she zips up her bag. “I had the month off, officially resigned today. I have absolutely nowhere to be. So I’m looking the part.”
“It looks good,” I say truthfully. She looked relaxed, like the Y/N I used to know. “You quit your job?”
“I had enough of that bank,” she shrugs. “I went to see my dad for a bit, and visited my sister. She’s doing well.”
“Ah,” I was glad she’d taken a break. She was glowing. “Seriously Y/N, you look really good.”
“You,” she points her finger at me. “Are not allowed to say things like that after ghosting me. I thought we...came to an understanding. You left me again.”
I open my mouth to say something, but her words hit me. She was right, I’d left her again. Fuck.
“Yeah,” she crosses her arms when I go speechless. “You admitted to your mistakes, apologized, and then left me. How do you think that’s made me feel?”
“I thought it was best if I left you alone,” I walk out of the way from the entrance and she follows me to my car, parked in the lot. “I just wanted to give you space--a chance at being happy.”
She scoffs, leaning against the driver’s side door. “Thought it was best for who, Harry? Who are you to define my happiness? It would’ve been nice just to hear you were doing okay!”
“I’m sorry!” I stumble for another excuse but I come up with none. “The truth is, seeing you with Alec that day I...it was hard for me. I couldn’t be around you like that.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I...” I look at her, looking at me expectantly. She was a woman with an agenda, she had come here looking for answers and wasn’t going to leave until I gave them to her. “I want you to be happy, all that shite. You can’t do that with me around. And it’s hard for me seeing you with someone else...I can’t stand to be in your life like that. Where I’m just...your ex.”
“So you’re saying, it took me nearly dying for you to realize?” Her eyebrow quirks up.
“In a way,” I huff. “It just, took me being around you to remember what I left, when we ended things. It also made me realize the mess I left behind-”
“Don’t you dare feel sorry for yourself,” she calls me out like nobody else could. It makes me laugh nervously and she takes it the wrong way. “Don’t laugh, I’m serious! I’ve felt sorry enough for the both of us for years. And maybe Y/N from a month ago would’ve wanted you to suffer a little bit, but not anymore. This last month...I’ve just felt so free and happy Harry. I get what you mean now, I get it. And I’m alright.”
“That’s great, I’m happy for you Y/N.”
“Yeah, I mean I get it, but you did go about it in the worst possible way-”
“I know.”
“I’m not done,” she pushes my shoulder. “Anyway, just because you did some shitty stuff, you don’t deserve to suffer okay? Move on. Onward. Not backwards.”
I’m taken aback again when she pushes herself off my car and wraps her arms around my shoulders. I slowly envelop her into me, savoring the feel of holding her even if it’s just for a moment.
“You deserve happiness,” she says in my ear. “If that means ghosting me, I won’t fight it. You just...have to let me know.”
“That’s not called ghosting,” I say as she separates herself from me. I want to pull her back but I stuff my hands in my pockets.
“Potato potato,” she waves her hand. “I should go. Just...take care of yourself Harry.”
Y POV (1 year later):
“That’s wonderful news,” I smile at my client who gathers their materials back into their portfolio. “I’ll have my assistant forward the contract over tonight. I look forward to working with your team.”
I shake hands and watch them leave the room before collapsing into my chair. I knew starting your own business was hard, but this last year was a bumpy road. I’d started my own consultation business, and only had two clients. This was my first big-deal contract I’d signed; I was promised two whole years with this team!
I reach for my phone to tell Alec, but I remember we weren’t talking. Well, I wasn’t speaking to him--he’d told me last night before my big meeting that he’d been offered a promotion at work. But the catch was it was in the Edinburgh offices “which works out perfectly for us! Your sister lives there, we can visit them often...what do you think?”
I’d been so angry then. Firstly, he’d sprung the news on me the night before a big day, and second he’d already made the decision for us. I was so angry I’d just gone quiet, and told him I had a big meeting the next morning.
My fingers itch though, to tell someone. My fingers hover over Harry’s name.
Every since I confronted him last year at work, he disappeared again but not completely. He texted me a few times, once on my birthday, another during a heat wave in the city asking me if I wanted to grab drinks. I wasn’t available and he hadn’t really texted me since. I knew he was a phone call away, and he knew the same of me. Yet neither of us ever picked up the phone to call each other. I wasn’t sure why, but we were still giving each other space.
Well fuck it, I think. I call him and he picks up on the fourth ring.
“Y/N?”
“Hey, are you busy?”
“Uh no--hold up, wait. Not you...Sorry Y/N give me a second.”
I bite my lip, he could be at work, I should’ve texted him.
“Hey,” Harry’s tone is different now, softer and the background noises quiet to almost nothing. “Sorry it was so loud in there, we’re celebrating a birthday--Serena, the receptionist you remember?”
“Oh yeah,” I have a vague picture of her in my head. “Don’t let me keep you from the festivities-”
“Why did you call? S’no big deal, I’m not a big cake person anyway.”
“Ooh, cake? Eat a slice for me, I don’t get enough sweets living with a health nut...” I trail off realizing who I was talking to.
“I’ll save you one if you swing by?” Harry suggests after a beat of awkward silence. Another second passes as I consider what he’s asking: he wanted to see me.
“Uh, okay! You don’t have to ask me twice,” I grin, a strange bubble of excitement making it’s way through me. “My office is actually not too far from your station. I’ll walk it.”
“Your office? Where are you these days?” Harry asks as I slip my bag over my body and head out the door. I was exactly an 8 minute walk from his station--I’d mapped it when I found the place cheap online.
“I’m renting a whole office! It’s all very professional--I mean it’s like, one and a half rooms..oh and I have to share the toilets with the whole floor-”
“That’s good, so there’s no way you’ll be caught dead in there if you’re sharing it with the floor,” I hear the laugh in his voice.
“That’s a very insensitive thing to say,” I scold him.
“It’s been a year, c’mon Y/N.”
“We almost died!”
“We weren’t going to die. You’re alive right now!”
“Thanks to a really bad detective and a toilet seat,” I say and relish at the sound of Harry’s laugh on the other end of the line.
“That’s not how you thank someone who saved your life,” Harry finally says when he’s done laughing.
“You didn’t save my life, I was never going to die in the first place remember?”
“Touche,” he laughs. “Get over here faster, I want to see your face.”
“I’m trying!” I speed up. The background noise grows louder on his side again and he apologises. “S’alright. Anyway I just called cuz I had good news and nobody to share it with immediately.”
“Tell me.”
“Long story short, I started my own consulting firm! Finance advice--stuff like that, and I signed my first long-term contract! With an actual client not just for like, a project! I’m-” I squeal, I couldn’t help it. “It’s such a big deal for me I’ve been struggling just breaking ever since I started up.”
“Y/N I’m getting you the whole bloody cake for that,” Harry says. I finally turn the corner to his station, nearly jogging at this point.
“Only if Serena doesn’t mind.” I joke.
“In that dress, who would mind,” he says. I pause on the street, he could see me. I squint but he’s nowhere in sight. And then there, he steps out from the steps and waves. I don’t bother taming the smile on my face and neither does he.
“I see you Detective,” I shout.
“I saw you first!” He shouts.
In an instant we’re rushing towards each other, bodies crashing as I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze hard. It felt like a reunion.
“How did we go this long without seeing each other,” I say when we pull apart. “I’ve actually missed you.” With the closure between us and no baggage weighing our memories down, I’d actually begun to feel nostalgic about Harry every time I thought about us--usually the friendship, not quite the marriage.
“I don’t know,” Harry pulls me close to him again. “I think we gave each other too much space this time around. We’ve got to find a better middleground.”
“I think we’re standing on it.” I joke.
“Hey, Styles!” A voice calls from the entrance. “Stop snogging your girl and come back in here. Serena’s wondering why you’re running away from her big day.”
“I’m not snogging anybody,” Harry calls back. “And I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Bring her with ya, we’ve got plenty of cake!”
Harry looks down at me and I raise an eyebrow. “You think they’ll let me have more than a slice?”
“I’m their commanding officer, I can tell them to let you have as many as you want.”
“Lead the way,” I grin, half excited to see Harry and half excited for the baked goods. Harry grabs my hand and leads me in. Unfortunately, enough people recognize me from the bank heist that Harry has to explain we’ve known each other for a while. Fortunately, enough people remember me to ply me with sweets to make up for Harry screwing up my case. I have zero complaints and celebrate the day with free cake.
H’s POV
My phone vibrates with Y/N’s text, she was here for lunch. Ever since she called me a couple weeks ago and we decided we couldn’t live without staying in contact, we tried to pop over for lunch whenever we could. It felt like old times. Being Y/N’s friend again was what I was missing out on. I was finally living the version of my life that felt right. I had a bounce in my step, I felt happy when I woke up. Even my officers teased me, trying to allude that I was getting some until I threatened them with paperwork. But I was brighter at work too.
I text Y/N that I would be a few minutes more, and when I finally go into the lobby to meet her she’s having a conversation with Serena.
“Man of the hour,” Serena says as I walk up. “Your girl’s here.”
“I can see that, thank you.” Serena insisted on calling Y/N that despite telling her multiple times we weren’t together.
“Serena was just telling me all the wild things she got up to for her sixty-fifth,” Y/N winks at Serena. I didn’t want to be part of that conversation so I drag her by the arm out of the station.
We walk in silence towards a small sandwich shop around the corner from us. I grab her swinging hand to catch her attention, and she gives me a small smile before turning away. But she keeps her hand in mine.
She’s unusually quiet, and I wait until after we’ve ordered to broach the subject. Before I could, she blurts out: “Alec's got to give his final answer today.” I nearly choke on my sandwich. She’s told me her predicament last week when I noticed she looked upset and wouldn’t let her be until she told me. I was gutted, but it didn’t seem like she wanted to go.
“I...that means, hm.” I gather my thoughts--and all my emotions too. “Have you decided if you’re...moving with him?”
“I dunno, this is an amazing job offer. I could be closer to my sister too but...I just don’t know. My life’s in London, my new practice too. How can I leave it all?”
“That’s tricky,” I say even though deep inside I was relieved it sounded like she wasn’t going. “Couldn’t you just move your practice there? Travel to London when you had meetings? You could always stay with me if you needed.”
She huffs, there was more she wanted to say but she keeps it in. I push her to open up. “It’s just, he sprang this on me a couple weeks ago and he just expected me to follow him. I love him, I do. But that’s asking a lot! It’s only been a year or so, and it’s nice to know he’s serious enough about me to want me to go with him. I just...”
“And we only just reconnected again,” I try to sound lighthearted but when she looks at me I can tell she knows I feel more than I’m letting on.
“Can you imagine?” She raises her eyebrow. “If I told him I’m staying because I just reconnected again with my ex...”
“Ex-husband makes us sound older than we are.”
“We are old,” she puts her sandwich down and sighs. “You wear orthopedic shoes Harry.”
“I won’t take offense to that,” I look down at my shoes. They were comfortable on the job. “So...I’m not factored into your decision at all? Whether you want to stay or not?”
I see the emotion in her eyes; she was conflicted. “I dunno,” she finally says.
“Don’t let me hold you back,” I say even though I wanted to beg her to stay. “You love him right? Maybe you should...”
She stares ahead, her face falling. I knew Y/N’s face before a cry, so I reach my hand out and clasp hers over the table. She squeezes my hand once before removing it, I felt like I did something wrong.
“Anyway,” her face brightens up again, though the look in her eyes stays. “I watched that new movie you recommended and it was awful...”
She changes the subject swiftly, and I don’t object. I didn’t know how to tell her to stay without being selfish, and I didn’t know how to tell her it was okay to go and act like I was telling her the truth.
But near the end of my shift, the evening receptionist buzzes me she was letting my girlfriend through. I don’t bother correcting her.
“Hey Y/N!” one of my officers calls out to her when she walks into the floor. “We’re all planning on throwing you a party.”
“For what?” She stops by his desk. I notice Detective Cole eyeing her, before joining in.
“He actually has a life now, he’s usually a lot more bossy with us.”
Y/N turns to me, eyebrow raised. “I’m afraid the party’s a little premature. But I’d never say no to cake.”
My heart sinks, she was going. I watch her walk towards me and she notices my expression, the smile is gone from her face by the time she reaches me.
“I told Alec I would try it out, 6 months. See how it goes...I can see my sister more often, help her out with my niece...” It sounds like she’s coming up with excuses to justify herself to me.
“That’s...” my words get stuck in my throat, the lie was too big to get out. “Your sister will love that.” I settle with. I take her hand and walk her out to a more private hallway. “When do you leave.”
“Two weeks,” she bites her lip. “I-I’m gonna miss you Harry. We just got into a flow and-”
“We’ll still talk.” I pull her in, I couldn’t bear to watch her face fall apart in front of me. And I didn’t want her to see my own face crumbling. I tuck her under my chin, “We’ve got phones, and you’ll be in London sometimes for work right? We won’t be like before, we’ll still talk.”
I know she can feel my heart racing, and I want her to know what she was doing to me because my mouth can’t seem to tell her. I hold her for a little longer, and when she goes, I know my unit won’t be throwing any parties for her in a while.
Three Months Later:
I’m in bum mode by 8pm that Friday. I’d had a long week, a tough case with no breaks and finally had an evening off so I changed into sweats the second I got home, taken a hot shower and washed the week off.
The knock on the door surprises me. The peephole doesn’t distinguish who’s outside, a hood covering their face. I decide to open the door, to find a teary Y/N hundreds of miles from home.
“Y/N-”
“I wanted you to tell me to stay.” she says to me immediately. Her tears continue dripping onto her cheeks. I stare in confusion, wondering for a moment if my lack of sleep had caused me to hallucinate her.
“Wha-”
“When I told you about the move...you told me I should go. I wanted you to tell me to stay Harry! I thought you would’ve told me to stay.”
I move aside silently, so we weren’t having a conversation where my neighbours could hear.
“How was I supposed to know that?”
“I don’t know!” she throws her bag, coat, and phone down on the floor in a heap. “You just were! I thought when I told you, you would say-”
“I didn’t want to tell you what to do with your life based on what I wanted! I thought I already established that!” Suddenly we’re arguing.
“You never had an issue before!”
“Well look where it lead us,” I move away from the door and back to where I was previously relaxing on the couch.
“A country apart!” She’s hot on my heels. “Didn’t you want me to stay?”
Some part of me is still completely confused what was going on, but Y/N’s fiery frustration overflows into my cup and an invisible force pours it down my throat.
“Yes. Yeah! Of course I wanted you to stay!”
“So why didn’t you say that?” She cries.
“I was trying not to be selfish!”
“Well you just pick the worst times to be selfish!”
“I never said I was good with my timing.” I mumble.
“Don’t treat me like-like some fragile porcelain Harry!” Y/N gets right into my face. “I’m not! I’m different, I’ve grown from that fragile place. I don’t need you walking on eggshells around me, I just want you to be honest!”
“When am I not honest?” I shout back.
“You haven’t been honest with me for months! Just say what you feel Harry, stop bloody holding back all the time! I just want the real you!”
“Fine!” I explode. “I love you Y/N! I love you so much it physically hurts me to be near you and not be able to hold you. I want to be able to kiss you like I used to, I want to go back in time and warn myself to get it right! I want to tell you how amazing you are and how sorry I am every day. I can’t! We’ve both got our own lives! I’m not being dishonest I just don’t want to fuck with your life again! I’ve accepted that I’m nothing more than an ex and your best friend!”
That stops her in her tracks. Her chest heaves as she swipes at her cheeks, and then she pushes her hands into my chest. I stumble but catch myself. She pushes me again, big tears rolling down her cheeks, and I stumble onto the couch. She turns and paces to the door and back.
“What are you even doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Edinburgh?” I finally ask the question I should’ve asked the second I saw her.
“Sure,” she throws herself onto the seat next to me and buries her face in her hands. “I...I didn’t want to be there. I just had to leave, and I couldn’t stand my sister going on about what a catch Alec was. How I should feel lucky. I had to get away. I never should’ve left London...I just thought maybe Alec was my chance at a fresh happy future, and you told me to go so I thought you didn’t want me to stay. But I fucked up there too, and I just had to go. And I came here with nowhere else--I can’t even live in my own home for three more months...”
She trails off. It was a lot of information to process. I don’t know how long we stay on the couch like that, a foot apart in silence.
“Everyone I know will probably think I’m just an idiot for coming here of all places, but this was the only place that made sense because I--Harry I think I...” She glances at me. “I...”
“I know,” I say after she struggles to say what she wanted to say. But I knew.
“But I feel so guilty, I’m doing to him what you did to me...it’s not fair.”
I didn’t think about it like that, I realise. But this situation was more complicated than that, I tell her. We had history, she’d moved to a whole new country for him, he must know somewhere Y/N didn’t actually want to move. But the parallels between her situation and ours are clear as day. I don’t know what to say.
“Stay the night,” I put a hand on her thigh. She doesn’t move it off. “Get some sleep, when you wake up tomorrow, make your decision. You know how I feel...and you know how you feel.”
“You’re right,” she lays her hand on top of mine. I thread my fingers through hers and hold on. Her puppy eyes tear me apart, I want to gather her in my arms and kiss her misery away. But I don’t want to add to her guilt.
“Let me get you something to eat, you’re probably hungry.” holding her hand was getting painful. I leave her alone in the living room, so she could collect herself. If someone told Harry three years ago this was where I would end up, he would’ve laughed in their face.
Y POV:
I couldn’t believe I did that, I think as I sit on the 5 hour ride back to Edinburgh. I felt untethered yesterday, after arguing with Alec all week because I was just miserable when I wasn’t in London. My sister’s pressure to be happy with what I had, I felt like I had no one to turn to who would understand me. And that had driven me into Harry’s arms, the train ride there fueling my frustration and anger. It had accidentally exploded in Harry’s direction when I got to his place but I was glad for it. He’d told me how he felt. And it was complicated as hell for me but somewhere deep inside, I knew where this was leading.
When I get back home to a worried Alec, we sit down and have a hard conversation. It breaks my heart leaving him, but after one last night together I pack most of my things and head to my sisters. The irony isn’t lost of me, hers was exactly where I went to when Harry and I split.
My sister tries to be supportive but I by the time the three months are over, I feel suffocated with her overprotective nature, and the full house she lived in.
“You’re just going to do what you want to do aren’t you?” She asks the day she drops me back off to the station. I’d spent the rest of the three months at hers--I couldn’t go back home to my house anyway and something about going back to London for another man felt wrong. I’d seen Alec a few times in those months. The last time was last night, we’d shared a few drinks and maybe some kisses. But it was a final goodbye last night, heavy but final.
“I don’t want to be a bad person,” I say. “I just don’t want to feel stuck somewhere because I feel bad.”
“You’re not a bad person,” my sister brushes my hair behind my shoulder as she hugs me tight. “I love you. Mum would be so proud of you for following your heart, you always did play it too safe.”
“I guess my rebellious phase just came a little late.”
“Ever since you met that Harry guy, you quit your stable job and haven’t been the same since,” she wags her finger at me like a stern maternal figure. She breaks character when she laughs and hugs me again. “M’gonna miss having you here. The kids loved having their aunt around.”
“I’m sure they’re happier having their play room back.” I joke to cover up how sad I felt leaving them too. Even though most days felt like we were walking all over each other, it felt like growing up in our small childhood home again; a nice reset before I headed back to London.
The train ride goes by quickly, and I settle back into my home over the weekend, getting my furniture out of storage and cleaning up after the last tenants. I’d been gone only 6 months but the second I walked through the door, I knew I was home again.
Letting Harry know I was back makes me nervous so I put it off for the week. I show up at his flat the following Saturday, wringing my hands as I wait for him to answer. I didn’t even know if he was home.
“Y/N,” a shocked voice says as I turn to walk away. Harry studies me as I stand awkwardly in his hall. “You’re back.”
I hear what he doesn’t say: you never called me after you showed up three months ago. and what happened to you?
“Hey,” I brush past him into his flat, fiddling with my jacket as he locks the door. “I’m back in London.”
“I can see that.” He eyes me. “Alone?” He asks, and again I hear the words he doesn’t say.
“Alone,” I smile. “I just needed...time to figure things out. I’ve been staying with my sister.”
“Full house?” He says, knowing it before I had to say it.
“So full,” I laugh, and just like that everything is okay. He takes my jacket from me and hangs it in his closet, like he knew I was going to stay a while. “There were too many mornings when I woke up to my niece just staring at me, waiting for me to wake.”
“Aw, they must miss you now.”
“Yeah,” I follow him through to his living room. I remember the last time I was here, sort of embarrassing looking back. “I was missing London though. And...you.”
He looks up. “Are you-”
“Harry,” I swallow what I need to say. His gaze is laser-sharp and it’s slightly intimidating to admit something like this. I’d given my heart to him before, and here I was giving it again after I’d spent years healing from what he did to it. It felt right, but also foolish. I guess love would always feel a little foolish.
“Y/N,” he says after I don’t say anything.
“So,” I walk up to where he stands near the window, the afternoon sun illuminates his handsome face. I reach up to touch it, no longer able to keep my hands to myself when he was so close. My breath catches as he closes his eyes against my palm, his lashes casting shadows on his cheeks.
“Y/N,” he keeps his eyes closed, like I would disappear if he opened them.
“I’m finally home,” I tell him, feeling the familiar lump in my throat as my eyes tear up. He opens his eyes then, they’re also pooling with unshed tears. It makes me laugh; he arches a brow. “We’re both here, in each other’s arms finally and...we’re crying.”
“We’re not a very typical pair, are we?”
“Nothing typical about us.” I say and he chuckles, kissing my wrist. My heart stutters in my chest.
“You’re either crazy or just incredibly forgiving, giving me a second chance at this.” Harry says outright.
“It’s us I’m giving a second chance to,” I slide my hands up, locking them around his neck.
“D’you think we’ll get the timing right this time?” He whispers as he lowers his face.
“We better,” I keep my eyes on his mouth, the one I’ve thought about kissing for the last three months. And then, finally, his lips are on mine and I nearly cry out of relief having him in my arms. Harry, being my Harry again.
His hands clench the fabric around my waist as he pulls me closer to him, his lips leave mine and he kisses my cheek, my jaw, my temple, before he crushes me to him.
“Harry I-” I couldn’t breathe, but my strained voice gives that away and he lets me go. I’m surprised to see the tears now trailing down his face. “You’re crying,” I swipe at the fallen tears.
“I’m just so happy,” he takes my hands off his cheeks and clasps them against his chest. “Y/N I’ve only dreamed of this, I didn’t think the universe cared enough about me to let me have this reality.”
“You and your poetry,” I smile.
“I guess you’re my muse,” He pulls me back to him, this time in a sweeter kiss that lingers. Tears pool in my own eyes as my heart tries to process the enormity of emotions I was feeling. “C’mere, I just want to hold you.”
He leads me to the couch and I lay down next to him. We take in each other, face to face, the grins reflected on both of us is impossible to wipe off.
“I love you Y/N, to the sun and back.”
“Isn’t it the moon and back?” I ask.
“Sun’s further out,” he smiles like he was expecting the question. I laugh, he kisses the tip of my nose and pulls my leg over his, his arm snaking around my waist so I’m snug against him.
“What am I gonna do with you Styles,” I brush one of his curls back.
“You’ve got forever to figure that out,” he says simply. My heart races at the thought. We’d bungled the first round we spent together, but after all these years apart I had a feeling that we really would have forever this time around.
With all the emotions fluttering inside of me, all the baggage unpacked and out of sight, and Harry’s loving expression looking back at me; I believed in us.
1.5 Years Later (H’s POV):
The house is quiet when I get in--it was half past 11 and I knew Y/N was probably asleep. I texted her a couple hours ago I would be home soon but time had slipped away as I worked. I hoped she wasn’t upset.
I move stealthily through the hall, eventually making my way to our bedroom where she lays sleeping. She’d left the lamp on beside her, and I move around to her side so I can close it. I notice the open book beside her--she fell asleep while reading it again. I set it down on the drawers and tuck her hand into the covers, the subtle diamonds on her finger glows yellow under the soft lamp light. Just looking at the engagement ring sparks a rush of love for the woman before me.
Y/N had surprised me a couple months ago when she proposed to me. We’d were dating again for almost a year and a half--this time it really felt like we’d gotten the timing right on our relationship. We were happier and more in love than we’d ever been. During a candlelit dinner one night, she had pulled a chair up beside me and presented me with the ring and an ultimatum.
Apparently she’d noticed that I was always on edge--like I was waiting for her to realize that she didn’t actually forgive me for all the awful things I put her through. And she was right, but it wasn’t until she said it out loud that I realized it was an anxiety I had. I was waiting for her to realize she could do better than me--leave me the way I left her. But she proposed to show me she wasn’t going anywhere, and she showed me her own ring her father gave her--her mum’s ring. 
I was blown away by her observant love, again, how she knew me better than I knew myself. I reassured her I wasn’t going anywhere either, not now or ever. And we decided we didn’t want to set any dates, we were taking it slow. Being engaged was a promise and that was all for now. I wanted to live up to Y/N’s standard, give her and her family a reason to trust me again--not only would they kill me if I ever did anything to her, but I’m pretty sure my own family would kill me too. They were over the moon when they found out we were giving it another go.
“Harry?” Y/N mumbles as I slip under the covers a little while later.
“Sorry for coming home so late,” I whisper. “I got a bit carried away with the case.”
“What’s new,” she shifts to face me, the moonlight from the windows barely illuminating her face. “M’just glad you’re home.”
“Me too,” I pull her towards me. Home, it was this house we’d moved into last year. But mostly, it was this beautiful woman in my arms who opened her heart to me despite everything. I don’t know how I got so lucky. I tell her that.
“S’not luck,” she mumbles. “The universe--our stars are finally aligned.”
“My star was pretty dim, I’m surprised yours found it.” I tuck her hair behind her ear and kiss her temple. “You found it by luck.”
“No. Your star’s always burned the brightest in my universe,” she tucks her face into my neck. “Even when I didn’t want it to be, it was still noticeable.”
“You outshine me in every way in mine,” I lean away so I can hold her face close, resting my forehead on hers. “I love you so much.”
She smiles in the dark, and leaves a kiss on the corner of my mouth. “I love you, and I’d love you more if you came home on time.”
I chuckle, “I’ll try. Tomorrow.”
“Mhm,” she says sleepily. I’d let her sleep, I think as I pull her leg over mine and hold her against my chest. Even though I hated coming home by the time she was asleep, finding her in our little safe space, and being able to hold her close as we fell asleep was my favourite part of the day.
***
The day is nearly over but the paperwork on my desk says otherwise. I sigh and slump in my chair, this was the worst part of my job.
I begin filling it out, and I’m not even halfway through when the phone rings. Serena’s on the other line, “Styles, your patient fiancee is here for you. I don’t think she’s staying patient for long though.”
I tell her I’d be out, smiling as I put down the phone. Y/N was making sure I kept my word from last night, and I would. For her, I would get in extra early tomorrow just to be sure I had the evening with her tonight.
“So when do I get the invitation to the wedding?” I hear Serena say as I walk out to the lobby. She’s putting on her coat to leave and Y/N’s bundled up herself. “And then when do I get to see the mini Styles’? I better be around to see them!”
Not many would, but I notice the slight tension in Y/N’s shoulders at the sensitive topic. I step in.
“You’re worse than my mum,” I tell her. “And she’s actually going to be the grandmother.”
“We just want to see our babies’ babies before we bite the bullet!” Serena shrugs, walking out from behind the counter. “I’ll see you tomorrow Harry, Y/N it was lovely seeing you as always.”
We wave her off, and then I wrap my arm around Y/N and we walk out to my car.
“That’s the first question everyone continues to ask me,” Y/N says as we walk. “When the date is.”
“Does that bother you?” I check in.
“A little, but only because it leads to even more questions when I say we haven’t set a date.”
We get into the car, and I ask her the other question I wanted to know: “And the baby thing? Does that...bother you?”
She turns her body to look at me, tilting her head as she tries to read me. “It doesn’t...does it bother you?”
“No,” I say honestly. “I’m happy where we are. All that stuff can...come after. I’m just-I’m happy with you.”
“Good talk then,” she grins. I can’t help but lean over for a kiss then.
“Well I don’t mind the baby making part,” I tell her. “But I think the actual babies can wait.”
She pushes me away as her cheeks flush like we hadn’t been dating and married and dating again for over ten years. “Sometimes I think you’ve just got one thing on your mind.”
“Yeah,” I say as I start the car. “That’s you.”
“Is that what distracted you so bad when you were working on my case? Because you were totally distracted and we almost died-”
“We were never going to die!” I say over her--this was a common topic of conversation between us.
“I was going to bleed out and die!” She tries to speak over me.
“Oh now you were going to bleed out? You were never dying!” I shout even louder. And we keep going for most of the way home until Y/N catches sight of a dog at a crosswalk and begins to coo at it through the window.
“Maybe we should get a dog,” she starts on another of our reoccurring topics. I sigh, ready to launch into why we should wait. And that’s how the rest of the ride home goes. Not that I minded, I could discuss the same topics with her over and over for eternity.
“You’re just threatened by a dog,” Y/N continues as we park and head up to our front door. “Because then my love would be split between both of you.”
“Yeah sure, that’s it.” I roll my eyes at her silly reasoning. But I still grab her hand in mine and kiss it as we walk in. My stomach flutters when she gazes at me as the door closes behind her.
“I’m going to wear you down soon,” she says as she takes my coat from me. I take them both out of her hands and leave them in a heap on the staircase, kissing her so she stops talking. She smiles against my lips, knowing that she was wearing me down, and I’d give her anything she asked for. Anything to make her happy. I loved her infinitely.
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Super sexy aa7 ideas that will never happen
*puts on my clown shoes
Themes: “the worst times are when lawyers have to smile their brightest, but you can’t be a lawyer 24/7” “sometimes (esp now) the system is WRONG”
CASE 1
Klavier Gavin prosecutes, because society has progressed beyond needing Paynes
And if the widespread complaint is that he’s too nice, this position is perfect
Make a witty remark abt feeling demoted >:(
Athena and Trucy dream team girls
Murder took place at a theater/has something to do with acoustics, to ~fit the characters~
Maybe Lamiroir was there 👀
Phoenix is once again a witness, but hes less infuriating. But still fucking funny infuriating
He mentions his college degree, vaguely. Pressing him reveals nothing.
Also address that TRUCY AND KLAVIER PROBABLY HAVE SOME TRAUMA FROM MURDERS AT THEIR PERFORMANCES
Defend a rando
The twist: the murder only could’ve been committed by someone with superhuman hearing, so Athena’s senses are vital here!!
End: the culprit tries to psychologically fuck with everyone, but Athena stays strong, maybe uses some noise cancelling headphones, and corners the SHIT out of them
Also, there’s a new judge. A higher judge than your normal judge, who is a boomer. BOOMER JUDGE
Post-trial: a comment about all them missing Apollo…
CASE 2
Athena vs Franziska von Karma
Athena calls her out on the whipping if that’s still a thing
[Maybe Trucy is there again for extra spice,,,] but Solo Thena would be EPIC
NEW FRANZISKA DESIGN
Maybe we can bring Maya back here, but NOT ACCUSE HER FOR MURDER
Or accuse her at the scene but quickly disprove it
Idk also address her trauma
Wow this is turning into ATHENA CYKES- ACE THERAPIST
Put Simon there too because he’s hilarious
Maybe him and Maya are casually attending Comic-Con for the Steel Samurai panel
Defendant: some toxic celebrity with DRAMA
the twist: the murderer was targeting several high-profile ppl, but only killed like. A janitor instead. They aren’t found OR arrested, but you get a not guilty by… indicting their accomplice. And it HURTS but you have to or its your not-guilty kinda-a-dick client that gets guilty
New judge plays by the written rules, so u can’t ague ur case
Franziska is skeptical of the Accomplice’s guilt, but she lets the verdict go because your client is innocent.
Athena cries to Phoenix about how she feels like she fricked up b/c she empathizes with the accomplice but also everyone, Phoenix does his best dad comfort—this is the truth that’s allowed in the confines of their court system.
CASE 3
NARUMITSU DATE
Open with a call from Maya. She loudly thanks the god/the holy mother for this
MURDER!!! AT THE VENUE  
Kay and Sebastian are there
GUMSHOEEEEE (OLDER SPRITE??? Higher salary?? Maggey too?)
Classic Wright vs Edgeworth
All the options are flirty
Everything is an innuendo
Trucy co-council is embarrassed by ur Old Man Flirting (NEW SPRITES)
Lampshade conflict of interest what with dating opposing council. Gloss over it completely
Phoenix’s college degree is vaguely mentioned to be helping him. This is Not elaborated on
The murder is some crazy shit that basically parodies the whole series
TWO SETS OF EVIL TWINS
3 cross poisonings and with INTERESTING results of chemicals mixing (Ema: 👀)
All the dying messages were faked
Handedness contradiction.
Some gross old guy appears, but you can punch him
The murder weapon goes from bloody knife with defendants fingerprints on it to glass shards of a broken bottle to an icicle to an overly spikey piece of hair
EXTRATERRITORIAL RIGHTS
For extra funnies: BOOMER JUDGE IS NOT USED TO THIS. They are the straight person of this comedy clown case.
For extra feels (the twist): Phoenix actually has an emotional breakdown on one of the investigation days. Maybe Trucy gets put at risk again, or something with poisoning, or even something with Kay or Seb (to show how much Phoenix cares, in general) and we address all the shit that he’s gone thru
Awkward comforting by miles
HUG SPRITE/ART
CASE 4
(shoves Klavier into Khura’in) GO FAKEGERMANBOY GO
Play as Apollo (khura’inese clothes sprites)
KLAVIER CO-COUNCIL (CASUAL SPRITES?? Put his hair up in a bun capcom im begging)
ADRESS AA4
Maybe at the end of one investigation, theres just. A heartfelt talk.
Ok ill make it heavy (b/c if its lighthearted these fuckos will never talk about their feelings)
LAMIROIR IS HERE TOO??
TRUCY ALSO- im sorry truce im shoving you everywhere because I want you to develop
maybe she and Klavier are like, performer bros
Apollo is happy that Trucy is but also feels alienated, like AA6 totally pulled him from his AA4 roots [COUGH]
CASUAL TRUCY SPRITE??? I would cry capcom
Nahyuta, Rayfa, and Apollo being awkward but trying (and mostly succeeding) siblings, Amara being a scary but p good queen momther
FRANZISKA INTERNATIONAL PROSECUTING??? Idk it’d be epic tho
She roasts Klavier so bad
Though he is very smart so she just roasts his terrible German
Resolve the Gramarye siblings here?
Include something with gender dysphoria to contrast how they butchered Robin Newman???
This is huge headcanon territory here tho
The Twist: realizing that this case cannot POSSIBLY be resolved in 3 fucking days. Also that Apollo is so backlogged that hes stressed and he probably needs help
Also someone tries to frame Klavier with his Gavinners-brand shoeprints
End: answer yes/no to Klavier working at Justice Law Offices. The choice affects his dialogue with Apollo in 7-5
CASE 5
Some fuckin. International level scandal
Elaborate on whatever the fuck “the phantom” was spying for? btw is the same that the culprits froms 7-2 and 7-4. maaybe 7-1?
And it involves MORE AUDITORIUMS
Open w/ calling Trucy, whos in the states. She mentions that Klavier casually got a Japanifornian defense attorney badge. Cue exasperation/fondness/incredulity (I promise this is relevant)
In Khura’in
Starts small- like a robbery, which leads to an attempt on Thalassa’s life. Again
Athena gets to therapy her
Then someone high-profile actually fucking dies
Athena (co-council Apollo) vs FINAL BOSS FRANZISKA
Lots of investigating with them
Talk about space center and grief
The twist: a person with low emotional output is framed, but they are innocent because LOWER EMOTIONAL REACTIONS DOESN’T MAKE YOU FUCKING EVIL
The other twist: Bring in 7-2 framed person for a character witness, show that they’re innocent. Athena is panicking because of Fear(?) so Apollo is determined to Do Something, and points out how this only happened because the system is Stupid and calls Klavier and Trucy
BECAUSE:
At the same time, there’s a stateside investigation. some botched, continued interreference at the Space Station
Klavier can pull an Edgeworth and investigate with Trucy
With parently narumitsu
Klavier talks about Apollo a lot, Trucy calls him out on it
Nahyuta is prosecuting this case
Depending on the relations between Klavier and Nahyuta established in 7-4, this will be hilarious or disastrous
Protective Yuty route: makes scathing comments about petty parts of Klavier- a petty-off
Teasing Yuty route: brings it up whenever Klavier talks about Apollo. Rlly funny banter. Klavier showing more human emotions sprites!!
Revisit the Space Center and get emo. Simon is here, arguing with Nahyuta
Because the cases go to trial simultaneously, the comment about the wrong conviction in 7-2 can be brought to the Japanifornian courts by Klavier and Trucy
They argue that Athena was forced to do that to spare an innocent and press HARD for legal reform
They call in Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth for reforms??
They also start a twitter war (that can be investigation minigame) and get public opinion up abt it
Yuty vouches for change, w/ khura’in as evidence
SO AA4 CAN GET KINDA RESOLVED!!
DUNK ON BOOMER JUDGE
BONUS: CASE 6: TURNABOUT CHILLOUT
Phoenix vs Franziska
Larry time
Scruffy time
Idk man. No more international stuff, just good old fashioned cleaning up ur shitty dad’s messes amiright
Resolve things with the Shelly card?
oldbag cameo but you file a restraining order
help trucy and pearls with college
TLDR: Athena actually tracks an international conspiracy that has weight, the AJ gang once again changes the system, Phoenix gets emotional resolution, Franziska helps international stuff AND gets emotional resolution, and i finally stop trying to throw hands with capcom. 
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not-xpr-art · 3 years
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Art Advice #11 - My Creative Process (take 2)~
Hi! Long time no write lol...
For this art advice post I wanted to go through the full process of one of my digital pieces (a companion to THIS post about my traditional process!), unfortunately I forgot to take screenshots of every part so... there will be some steps missing but I hope this can still be an interesting/informative post!
As I said in my last one, this is just my own process for creating something and am in no way saying this is the ‘right’ way of doing it! I just hope you guys enjoy seeing how I create my work lol!
My Creative Process (take 2) ~
As with anything in life, my creative process starts with an idea. And for this piece, my idea was for my own version of the historical figure Katherine Howard. I actually had originally planned to draw a portrait of her with a dog, but thought that might be a bit complicated & may not be recognisable as her, so went with the simpler design instead.
Once I have an idea, I start looking for reference images. And in the case of this piece, I picked a couple portraits by Hans Holbein that have been attributed to being of Katherine. This art is a sort of character design, so the references are mostly guides more than things I follow religiously (particularly for her face).
Also see my post on references HERE for more information and advice on using references!
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I then sketch out my idea. 
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I often sketch the face more detailed than the rest of a figure, usually because that is the thing I’ll start painting first. If I’m fully following a reference, I will sometimes make the sketch super simple (so just the basic shapes of the head/body/etc), whereas something like a character design, or perhaps a person I haven’t drawn before, I’ll often put a lot more detail and time into the sketch! Honestly it just depends on whether I know I’m going to actually need the sketch or not lol...
I then put the base colours down under the sketch (usually with a flat brush), and then merging them so I can use the sketch as a guide for the shadows and highlights. 
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This also helps me get an understanding of what colours are going where, and how the piece will look overall! Of course, this isn’t set in stone, and as the piece goes, I sometimes change my mind about the colours. But it’s always good to start somewhere, in my opinion!
I then begin to blend the piece, usually starting with the eyes! 
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I use fluffy/textured brushes to blend for work like this, although I do something continue to use the flat brush for painting if I want a more painterly look! In a way, I approach digital painting in a very similar way to traditional oil painting, since I do all the painting on just the one layer. 
I like to get the face & hair mostly done before I work on the rest, and then will work from top until bottom, focusing on particular areas and textures one at a time. 
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And, ahem, this is where I completely forgot to take any more screenshots of my progress... But essentially it’s just the same thing as the face. I use the fluffy/textured brush to blend the basic shapes, shadows, etc, and then go in with a smaller (still textured) brush to add the details! 
Top tip for painting gold digitally: most painting software has a filter called ‘Add’ which is perfect for adding the shine of gold (because it often adds a slight yellow tinge to the shine that makes it look more realistic!) I also use the ‘Add’ filter for other highlights, such as the eyes, since it really gives a satisfying pop of brightness!
This is the next screen shot I took where the piece is mostly done lol (sorry that she no longer has dimples, I just couldn’t get it to look like anything over than a dirty smudge lol...)
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All that’s left is to add the finishing touches, often adding some filters to make the colours jump out a bit more! (and, in this case, adding a frame!)
And here is the final work! 
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This piece probably took a little over 8 hours to complete in total btw! It went almost entirely the way I wanted it to, which I’m happy about (since sometimes a piece, particularly for character designs, just goes all to hell... perhaps one day I’ll make a post about one of those pieces lol!?) and I love how it looks tbh!
I hope that this post was somewhat interesting! 
As always, if you have any questions about my process or my art in general, feel free to send me an ask! <3
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kaypeace21 · 4 years
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DID theory part 3: St novels/comics/spotify list analyses
*read part 2  of DID theory-first! You’ll be lost otherwise, seriously XD. First, I’ll say -I find the ST comics/ books as canon as the st movie inspirations . I don’t consider the books/comics ‘literal canon’ (cause they contradict the show ( like Max and billy meeting a year before s2  in runaway max - but meeting as little kids in s3,  or El’s age being wrong in suspicious minds, in the d&D comic Will’s friends instead of him /Jonathan building castle byers, etc) . 
So I think we shouldn’t take it  literally - but more like the st movie lists - filled with foreshadowing/symbolism and other eastereggs (That the Duffers may have told them to add). So here’s some more (possible) alter / DID hints...
‘Suspicious minds’ novel
- Brenner  equates k*lling rabbits to h*rting kids. And he’ll hurt (kid) Kali (the bunny in the analogy) if Terry tries running away from him . I wonder if Lonnie used a similar threat against jonathan? Jon could be giving only a partial truth to why he cried for a week (about the bunny story)?
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-Kali “hops” like a bunny then talks about tigers obsessively (linking her to rabbits/tigers similar to the other alters/Will/Lonnie). Terry also imagines tigers and kali says to Alice they can all be tigers together.
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- one of the only male psychic experiments (who can see the future) is gay
- Terry is into lord of the rings, like Will. Has her and her boyfriend dress as sam & frodo (m/m ship). Terry calls her and her friends “the fellowship”.
-when Terry/Alice were injected with d**gs -they hallucinated rainbows.yikes.
- Alice (like Lonnie) is a car mechanic. She can see the future like Will the wise and says “monsters of course my mind has them as long as they stayed in there, everything would be alright? Wouldn’t it?” (in her visions she saw the demogorgan).
 (completed) graphic ST novels (by Jody Hozer) so far  (+ other st comics).
*Jody Hozer writes all the graphic novels (every novel is 4 chapters each) - the will byers comic, number 6 comic , into the fire comic, and at the moment she’s writing the d&d series and the summer camp series (which isn’t done yet). Then there’s the occasional 1 chapter st comics not written by her.
- Number 6 has (the ability to foresee the future like Will the wise/Alice) and has an ab*sive dad. 
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When having a nightmare of the demogorgan ...she says as she wakes up “screw you dad” (another hint the demogrgan -aka in d&d means ‘deep father’ ...is Lonnie).
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- when number 6 and others run they say they’re’ “rabbiting”(which yes technically makes sense but I found such an uncommon phrase odd.)
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- The (summer camp and d&d graphic novels aren’t completed yet) but they establish d&d creatures are based off  real life people the boys don’t like in real life. Or that d&d is used as an outlet to explain true events from their pasts -but they just give the true stories a d&d fantasy slant.
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- Which brings me to the halloween oneshot(not by Hozer),taking place before s1. Will tells a scary story told to him by Jonathan, and originally told to him by Lonnie. Says the boys have to keep it a secret cause it was something he was never supposed to tell to anyone. Mike says he has to finish the story he started. It’s about a “ch*lld-eater” monster first attacking a boy near the quarry (like where Will was found) and  attacking kids in a library (where Will was also found in s1).When the child sees the sheriff she bangs on the library door begging for help-he ignores her , walks away, and tells the other cops to never speak of what they saw as she screams for help. Because the previous sheriff was in kahoots with the monster. It def had some ... uh questionable imagery too 0_0
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The vine in the mouth is also like the one in Will’s mouth (when Joyce found him in the library).And of course Dustin asks whether or not something like that could be covered up.
- In the “bully  comic” (about troy) also not by Jody. We focus on Troy and his ab*sive dad (who encourages him to fight/ditch his best friend). The dad has a drinking problem (gets fired), calls Troy a “mess” , pushes him, and constantly encourages Troy to be vi*lent/macho. He pretty much tries sabotaging the relationship Troy has with his friend (which I could see Lonnie doing in the future with byler).The dad/troy is framed similarly to when Billy gives Max a ride home-  after both ab*sers give bad advice saying not to hang out with their friend (after witnessing them fight in the school parking lot). Dad also laughs about almost k*lling a squirrel (a trait we see troy mimic)- and we see El feel guilty about k*lling a squirrel in s2. At the end of the comic- Troy (like Will) after making up with his bff james- moves leaving his best friend behind.
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-  (into the fire) Twins: (one was normal with no powers living in the real world and the twin with fire powers is trapped in a dark sunless “cold” world styled like a psych facility/medieval fantasy) . pics in link.She hated her reflection cause it reminded her of being betrayed by her normal non powered twin who left her behind in the ‘cold’ place. She’d call herself a ‘hunter’ who would defend herself and attack others to never be hurt again. Her powers being unleashed were described like opening “a door.” And she loves her twin deep down and just wants friends . And fire twin goes to the “other side” to reunite with her reflection and find happiness in the real world. *also there’s sunflower/bunny symbols which she lights on fire-which can relate back to Will/Terry/Lonnie etc. The twins = Will & Will the wise (mf)
Mirrors also connect to Will and Will the wise via the canon spotify playlists too.
Will playlist (song: mirror in the bathroom)-Mirror in the bathroom Please talk free.The door is locked -Just you and me.Mirror in the bathroom recompense for all my crimes of self defense.Cures you whisper make no sense!Drift gently into Mental illness.
Demogorgan playlist ( from perspective of Will the wise aka the mf) (song: are you dead yet? )-”polluted soul through a mirror I behold.Throw a punch, shards bleed on the floor. tearing me apart. but I don't care anymore.Should I regret or ask myself are you dead yet?Wake up, don't cry. Regenerate to deny the truth. The fiction you live in blindfolds your eyes. Disclosure, self loathing, this time you've gone too far.Or could it be, my nemesis, that you are me?
(*st ‘into the fire’ comic. the fire powered twin’s thoughts echo the song)
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*I think this foreshadows the later plot points of mf (will the wise ) and Will interacting via mirrors. The fire-wielding twin and the non powered twin had a lot of mirror imagery. Including the fire powered twin (Who denies reality/and imagines herself in a fantasy world) punching her reflection because it reminds her of her non-powered twin. Here’s some cover art from the novels showing how much they emphasize mirrors.
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*And in s4 movies Black swan - “the black and white swan twins (two halves of the same person-Nina)” had creepy mirror imagery. In long kiss goodnight the women with DID talks to her “ (supposed)dark 1/2″  via a mirror (in a dream).  in ‘the visit’ the teen girl who’s dad abandoned her when young-  refuses to look in the mirror (and it’s never explained why she hates her reflection). So yes I think we’ll see this in s4 or 5. We already see the mf take on the appearance of Billy when talking to him.
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- Will in “zombie boy” comic is afraid he’s a monster.
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also lets appreciate the lil byler moment of Mike and Will being the only zombies and mike comforting him. honestly , though, the characters were pretty out of character for most of this 1 ch comic (until the end) tbh.
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- in the “d&d comic” mf is  (possibly) described as a “protector” (aka like how i said the mf is probably a perpetrator alter- which are misguided protectors).
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*update now that it’s finished... hinting Will created everything subconsciously.
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‘Runaway Max’ novel (before s3)
(I didn’t get time to read this book unlike ‘suspicious minds’ -so can’t show screen shots of everything others talked about. May read it eventually)
-Max compares Billy  to ‘her monster’ and a ‘shadow’ that will attack anyone that comes close (mf parallel).
- Dart k*lled a cat,  El’s papa tried to force her to k*ll a cat. And Billy when seeing a d*ad cat lights it on fire for a “viking funeral”. A connection to WW (who has fire powers) and El & dart.
-Max and Billy both are into cars and bond over fixing them (similar to Lonnie’s interest in fixing up cars). And since Lonnie tried to brag to Jonathan about fixing a car up and Will is into tech it wouldn’t be a stretch that Lonnie and Will were into fixing cars together (like Max/billy who would hang out at a autoshop in Cali) .  Similar to Will ,max says hanging with Billy wasn’t always so bad- which made things more confusing to her.
- Max compares Billy being beat up by Neil: to ‘punching a pocket of a baseball glove’. This is interesting since this book was pre-s3 which was when they established the connection of billy and his dad to baseball (similar to s1 saying  Lonnie taught Will baseball).
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-Billy’s friend is a nice ‘music snob’ . He tries distracting Max with music while Billy is burning the cat. Which reminds me of Jonathan trying to distract Will from their parents fighting in the next room-with music
- Max’s bio dad is a criminal who takes her to shady bars, and Max fears he’d ‘get bored of her’. Max also ran away from her mom to her dad’s 2x.Which reminds me of Jonathan thinking Will ran to Lonnie’s in s1.
-Max mentions how Billy misses his friends after moving out of Cali. And he starts acting even worse-after the move. Which will probably be the case for Will (at least a bit) when moving to California.
-Billy tells Max Neil isn’t his ‘real dad’ either because Neil can’t be a father to anyone.
-Billy also tells Max who (at the time ) is 12 years old not to act “easy” and breaks her best friend’s (Nate’s) arm over  someone joking he was Max’s boyfriend and also cause Nate tried to get in between Billy bullying Max. Eventually all her Cali friends ditch her cause they’re afraid of Billy.And Ugh- why could I see Lonnie doing something like this in the future with Will/his new friends. 
- Creepily Max says Billy doesn’t fool around with her like other girls not because of her age or being family. But cause she wasn’t ‘attractive’. This whole excerpt gave me the heeby jeebies,on so many levels, honestly.  Almost like he’s jealous- and controlling her cause he doesn’t want Max to have any love interests. Maybe i’m just missing the context? But ugh... excerpt:
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Will byers secret Files
-Hopper gets scared by a pumpkin-scarecrow. And in Will’s canon journal when talking about the mindflayer and his nightmares draws the same scare-crow , Hopper saw. There’s also a lot of s4-5 foreshadowing in the book... but that’s a post for another day.
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Darkness on the edge of town (Hopper novel)
*didn’t get time to read this (except the preview)
 I think it’s more foreshadowing for future seasons though- cult/supposed ritual k*llings, people being wrongly blamed for those crimes-like the hellfire club , most likely.  (similar to the guy number 3 in the number 6 comic)  saint john in the novel also has the same brain control powers as 3- similar to the mf. .” When a blackout plunges the boroughs into chaos, Hopper must escape the the mobs in the streets to make sure his family is safe and stop Saint John from fulfilling his prophecy.” I already talked about here- how the next few seasons would start having more religious symbolism/a future apocalypse (based on what we’ve seen in the show/s4 movies). Although, i think there’s quite a few differences between (the novel’s) saint john and Will the wise. Hopper is also a star wars nerd like the boys (alter hint)
Canon spotify songs (posted after s2/before s3) hinting at DID/ alter /lonnie stuff-
Will  and Will the wise (aka the mf) being an alter
*Used Will and the demogorgan playlist (which i think has perspectives of Will the wise aka the mf, demogorgan, and Lonnie).
Besides the mirror songs previously mentioned...
Will (cold inside)-Doctor the problem's in my chest.My heart feels cold as ice but it's anybody's guess?Doctor can you help me cause I don't feel right?Better make it fast before I change my mind. Doctor can you help me cause I don't feel right?Better make it fast before I change my mindWell it's cold, cold, cold, cold inside. Darker in the day than the dead of night Cold, cold, cold, cold inside...Counselor give me some advice Tell me how hard will I fall if I live a double life?
El (ghost)-your ghost, the ghost of you.It keeps me awake.My friends had you figured out.Yeah they saw what's inside of you. You tried hiding another you.But your evil was coming through... living in the shade Your cold heart makes my spirit shake.
El (monster Lead me home)-I don't know what, what I was afraid of, I was afraid oooof...Monster take me somewhere...We walk in shadow.Monster lead me home.Where there is no place to hide.Stranger on the other side We walk in shadow.Monster lead me home.
 The’ innerworld’/  other hints Max, El, Hopper, and Billy are alters of Will’s
Max (Logical song)-I know it sounds absurd. Please tell me who I am, who I am, who I am, who I am?
EL(Buzzcut season)-I remember when your head caught flame It kissed your scalp and caressed your brain ...nothing's wrong when nothing's true. I live in a hologram with you Where all the things that we do for fun . Play along (make-believe it's hyper real) But I live in a hologram with you.
Billy (broken bones)-Broken bones.Stay alone. If I see only what I believe -reality's bound by what I conceive
Max (Why can’t i touch it)-Well, it seems so real.I can see it.And it seems so real-I can feel it.And it seems so real-I can taste it.And it seems so real-I can hear it.So why can't I touch it?
Hopper (breakers)-Just to keep me from losing my mind .It's so easy to drown in the dream.Oh, and everything is not what it seems This life is but a dream.Shatter illusions that hold your spirit down ...From the inside, so it seems.Oh, I'm telling you it's all a dream It's all a dream It's all a dream It's all a dream It's all a It's all a dream.”
Max (comfortably numb)-When I was a child I caught a fleeting glimpse out of the corner of my eye.I turned to look but it was gone.I cannot put my finger on it now.The child is grown.The dream is gone.I have become comfortably numb.
Max (Kids aren’t alright)-Still it's hard Hard to see Fragile lives, shattered dreams...What the hell is going on? The cruelest dream, reality.
El(team)-Livin' in ruins of a palace within my dreams. And you know we're on each other's team
Hopper (denial twist) ( just change ‘she’ to ‘he’)-Just because she makes you feel wrong she don't mean to be mean or hurt you on purpose, boy!Take a tip and do yourself a little service...by playing a different role Ya, by playing a different role, oh.The boat ya you know she's rockin' it.And the truth well ya know there's no stoppin' it.So what, somebody left you in a rut and wants to be the one who's in control.But the feeling that you're under can really make you wonder.How the hell she can be so cold?So now you're mad, denying the truth.And it's getting in the wisdom in the back of your tooth
El (the story)-You see the smile that's on my mouth.It's hiding the words that don't come out.And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed.They don't know my head is a mess.No they don't know who I really am.And they don't know what I've been through
El (hero) ( pretty much alludes to El being a construct of Will’s mind similar to his juju zombies in the d&d story he wrote )-Who knows what you'll find when you look inside (billy’s mind)?Haunted beach (billy flashback), roll the dice.The zombies in the corner aren't amused (d&d ref).Play the part of the blushing bride...Out of view, cloaked by night...My spirit dims, but I feel the force"No longer in my hands,"  (loses powers) .I say to you .I could've been a hero, I could've been a zero.Could've been all these thingsI could've been nothing, I could've had something.Could've been all these things.And if I am unable, tell him that I'll try but underneath the table will spin the wheel and hope for gold. Oh, and where it stops, nobody knows.
Max (it’s real)-I don't know who's behind the wheel.Sometimes I feel like I don't know The deal.But when I tell you how I feel-Believe me when I say It's real.I skated on a frozen Sea.It's real as far as I Can see?
Max (Halloween)-Because your role is planned for you there's nothing you can do.
El (White rabbit... alice and wonderland/lonnie ref)-And if you go chasing rabbits, and you know you're going to fall...When logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead.
demogrogan(Dimensions of horror)-Gaze upon the ancient face you dread (lonnie)... Passing through the doors, into Dimensions Of Horror. Haunting visions from the past, rise once more.Realms of darkness, terror, death and gore.Scream in fear, your sanity is lost
demogorgan (SCHORCHED)-Terrorizing madness. Vivid dreams. internal. Hallucinating the unknown. Abstract entities prey.Through superhuman abilities.Fragments of memory erased.
demogrogan (Calling from a dream)-the shadow king...seven spirits (7 ref) Swarming around his head.Close your eyes.Listen to my call. Our bond will bring us together again.I will wait for you. For our hearts still beat as one.Listen to my calling from a dream. (integration?)
 Maybe a coincidence or a hint at Will having both male &female alters?Billy (dude looks like a lady)- What a funky lady...Oh, he was a lady.Dude looks like a lady. Hopper (turn the page)-All the same old cliches,"Is that a woman or a man?" Max ( rebel rebel) (this was on her her pre s3 spotify list + post s3 “wrapped list”)- you got your mother in a whirl, doesn’t know if you’re a boy or girl? 
 SHIT DAD/ AB*SIVE FAMILY
*trigger w*rning ahead for dark themes like s**ual ab*se
demogorgan (my children)My children I never loved them.Why feel that way when their existence is my business?My children...feral vessals of my selfinterest...So don't lean on me man 'Cause I ain't got nothing to give.Don't lean on me man 'Cause I ain't got nothing to give.My children they're right behind you My children they're gonna beat you.My children if you let them Oh, oh, my children.
demogorgan (black dahlia-window):  I’m not quoting the lyrics you can just look it up.  it’s messed up.Based on the 1st person pov of Gilles de Rais -k**ler and p*d*rest who also kidnapped a cleric.
Will (creature comfort)-Some boys hate themselves.Spend their lives resenting their fathers... hate their bodies .Stand in the mirror (another mirror ref) and wait for the feedback.Some boys get too much, too much love, too much touch.
Jonathan’s Playlist- We’re happy family: “Eating refried beans (poverty). Gulpin’ down Thorazines (pills for a mood disorder). We ain’t got no friends (s2 ref). Our troubles never end. Daddy likes men. Daddy’s telling LIES.”
Jonathan’s playlist-Enter sandman: “Don’t forget my son. Sleep with one eye open. Gripping your pillow tight, Exit light, Enter night. Take my hand, we’re off to never-never land. Something’s wrong, shut the light, heavy thoughts tonight. Dreams of LIARS and of things that will bite, yeah. Hush little baby don’t say a word, and never mind that noise you heard. It’s just the beasts under your bed, in your closet in your head.”
Jonathan (The killing moon-guy sings this)-So soon you'll take me up in your arms. Too late to beg you or cancel it. Against your will!He will wait until you give yourself to him...In starlit nights I saw you.So cruelly you kissed me... unwillingly mine.
jonathan (haunted)-You and I both know that the house is haunted And you and I both know that the ghost is me. You used to catch me in your bed-sheets just a-rattling your chains.Well back then , it didn't seem so strange...In the midnight hour..I was busy trying to charm that snake. When the sun came up we had no place to hide...You and I both know that the house is haunted  yeah you and I both know that the ghost is YOU! You used to walk around screaming, all slamming all 'dem doors Well I'm all grown up now and I don't scare easy no more But you and I both know.
Hopper (Confession)-Now I'm on the low Confession, to a virgin ghost Admission, force you know.
hopper (Tomorrow ) Yeah, and back when s*x and amph*tamines were the staples of our childhood physique.
Max (Last caress)-I got something to say.I k**led your baby today.And it doesn't matter much to me.As long as it's de*d.Well I got something to say.I r*ped your mother today.And it doesn't matter much to me.As long as she spread. (Lonnie pov? Neil?messed up song to be on Max’s list)
hopper House of the rising sun- And my father was a gamblin' man Way down in New Orleans... And the only time he's satisfied Is when he's on a drunk
Max Poor relations-An attitude, no patience, he's paper thin.Talking over everything you have to say...Don't correct the things he said, what's the use?Can't handle violence.Can't handle violence.Learning to love the abuse you can't live without.Your familiar oppression, your daily injustice...That loser man that belongs to you, he's ruling you.
el (sweet dreams are made of this)- Some of them want to use you ...Some of them want to ab*se you.Sweet dreams are made of this...Hold your head up.Keep your head up, movin' on.
Max (Alternative ulster)-They say they're a part of you.And that's not true, you know.They say they've got control of you.And that's a lie, you know.They say you will never Be free, free, free
max In bloom-”Sometimes at night I let it get to me.And last night it had me down and feeling NUMB...And thinking back upon those days Way way back when I was young.I was such a little shit.Cos I was always on the run.Well you know just what they say-Just like father then like son.Don't delude me with your sympathy.Cos I can do this on my own.And this will be the last time-That I break down and wanna crawl to bed. “(since Billy has a playlist I found this song choice being on hers instead of his interesting- in fact almost all of Max’s songs are from the 1st person perspective of a boy unlike the other gals.)
Max (comfortably numb)-The child is grown.The dream is gone.I have become comfortably NUMB.
hopper (numb)-Honey, here I go again Down that crooked road of sin.My momma locked me out again And hung me high to rust under the rain I am NUMB( 8x)....Little bluebird at my window Sing a pretty song for me Don't you know that you can fly, fly, fly away Don't you know that you can leave I am numb.
other psych songs
Hopper (life of sin)-Every morning when I rise I look in the mirror (another mirror ref) and despise the sight of everything and all that I've become. The level of my medicating some might find intimidating But that's alright cause' it don't bother me none.
 Max (Moon over marin)- “Dive in my scalding wooden tub (connects to mf/el)...There, wasn't that a nice visit?Don't forget, a psychiatrist is on duty twenty-four hours a day in the blue room...Drink plenty of water when you take these.Now you can relax.” ( I wonder if stranger writers saying to “drink plenty of water” is secretly a line said by a psych person in s4?)
Max (Feeling ok)-My doctor says that I should take it -At least I won't have to keep faking.I know, someday I'll find it-Where I, I least expect it.Today I know I feel ok.
Max ( Going gets tough)-.No home since the fire.Me and the ash can't settle down...So I sink another round-Placebo for pain.And there's no one for to blame . I refuse to accept-That my work is all in vain...Still always remembering .When the going gets tough .That the labor of our love-Will reward us soon enough.
 Max (Comfortably numb)-Hello? (Hello? Hello? Hello?)Is there anybody in there?Just nod if you can hear me.Is there anyone home?Come on now-I hear you're feeling down.Well I can ease your pain .Get you on your feet again.Relax // Now I've got that feeling once again.I can't explain . you would not understand.This is not how I am. I have become comfortably numb.I have become comfortably numb //Okay (okay, okay, okay)Just a little pinprick.There'll be no more, ah .But you may feel a little sick.Can you stand up?I do believe it's working, good.That'll keep you going through the show.Come on it's time to go// Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.
Explanations of Why the mf  (WIll the wise)behaves the way he does
demogorgan (ww) (Cowards starved)- friends think of me as a priest.I had to show them that the weakest hands Can still make impressive fires. (aka MF = will the wise)
demogorgan (ww) (Unmerciful):I will be reborn...Tranquil demeanor.Now devoured.Surfacing malice...I can't reconcile the torment others bring unto me.I will not take any reproach.Turning the other cheek.Relentless hatred consumes.Control released.Absolved of all compassion.I am free .Look into my hate filled eyes and tell me What do you see?Surging aura of my rage Paralyzing you in fear.
Demogorgan (ww) (bodies-Beaten why for (why for)?Can't take much more.(Here we go, here we go, here we go).One, nothing wrong with me,Two, nothing wrong with me.Three, nothing wrong with me.Four, nothing wrong with me.One, something's got to give.Two, something's got to give.Three, something's got to give now...You're all by yourself but you're not alone...Driven by hate consumed by fear.
demogrgan (ww)-Orbs used as transmitters carry electromagnetic beams from above (affecting magnetic fields in the show).Silence, manipulated, tortured ...How immune is your system of suffering?Its in the blood of suffering (familial ref).Its in the blood.
 Demogrgan (Monster)-I shoot the lights out..Whoa, just another lonely night...None of who you get it, ain't nobody cold as this.A zombie (will ref) with no conscience .Everybody knows I'm a motherfucking monster. Everybody wanna know what my Achilles' heel is? Love I don't get enough of it.
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thewebcomicsreview · 4 years
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Homestuck 2 has updated! Christmas is ruined!
Previously, on Homestuck 2: Literally nothing happened, and a non-trivial portion of the patreon supporters gave up and quit. Can this update pull a Christmas miracle and right the sinking ship of Homestuck 2? Probably not, but let’s find out! 
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We’re back in Candyland, having completely skipped over Karkat and John talking about Dave’s apparent death, because this comic is only interested in long conversations when they’re boring and not about anything at all. That’s alright, I got the gist of it.
When Karkat is finally gone, John still doesn’t move. It isn’t as though he has nowhere else to go, since there are quite a few places he might attempt to make himself useful, for better or for worse.
So, it appears to be morning now, meaning that John’s son has been missing in a war zone for almost 24 hours and I guess John literally forgot Harry existed?
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Prediction: This conversation is going to end in some variant of “Where is our son?” “Oh shit!”
ROXY: hey john can u do me a quick solid
ROXY: actly idk how quick itll be but its definitely solid
ROXY: harry anderson says i just missed u being here but could u skip back on over?
What.
So, I went back and checked, and apparently nowhere is it explicitly said that Harry Anderson was also looking for the Vriskas, so I guess he....stayed home? Which makes sense, I suppose, but maybe a “Stay here I’ll go look for them” would’ve helped. I wasn’t the only one who thought Harry was out looking for Vriska too. 
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ROXY: sup
ROXY: follow me
ROXY: well were just going to my room so i guess technically u know the way
JOHN: haha ok.
John follows, trying to shake the ominous feeling he got from what she’d just said. He’d been in and out of this house a lot in the past few days. Why should this be any different?
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Is Roxy....horny? Is the solid she’s looking for John’s dick? I mean, that’d make her saying Harry wasn’t available kind of weird, but I think this framing is a fake-out.
...
What the fuck is that lamp, Jesus Christ it’s awful. Just a cat’s asshole, facing the door.
ROXY: r u kiddin me rn egbert
JOHN: i’m not? unless you were, in which case yeah lets say i was also kidding.
JOHN: oh my god, i’m sorry, i don’t know why this making me freak out.
ROXY: i remember our past boot knockin with fondness but that is a situation im not interested in revisiting
Oh hey, it was a fakeout. Good job, Homestuck 2. You successfully implied something just through the art. Art which, by the way, looks a lot better than the last chapter. There are backgrounds and everything. I wonder if Chapter 15 was rushed out due to Hiveswap and that’s why it was so weak?
He’s almost embarrassed by how relieved he feels. So what if his ex wife wanted to hook up? Shouldn’t that be a situation he could navigate? Don’t people like to find solace in human physical connection during dire times? Why did the idea of it make his mind white out in panic more than, say, any number of the traumas he just experienced?
I’m not the biggest fan of the way the narration is going JOHN IS AFRAID OF SEX WITH ROXY LIKE HE’S A TEENAGE VIRGIN AGAIN (LIKE IN HS1!) AND IT DOESN’T REALLY MAKE SENSE PLEASE REMEMBER THIS IT’LL BE IMPORTANT LATER, but okay, noted.
ROXY: u said ur house is gone??
JOHN: yep.
JOHN: completely.
ROXY: jeez
Heh. I like Roxy, still. 
JOHN: so i just sat there, watching, trying to figure out why watching my house burn down felt like i was being released from prison.
If this comic actually uses the phrase “home” and “stuck” in the same sentence I’m turning this blog around and we’ll go right back to Winnipeg.
ROXY: aight then no wind bending just use your mangrit
Roxy flexes, the corner of her mouth pulled up into a familiar grin. John feels his guts, so recently calmed, twist up into knots again. Her eyebrows shoot up and the smile loosens. He must have shown something on his face.
ROXY: ok or just like push when i push
ROXY: we both got sick muscles
ROXY: no other adjectives necessary
I feel unqualified to talk about how hard Roxy is pushing the June Egbert thing.
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....Is that the fucking portal from Hiveswap under a tarp? Also hi Candy Callie, appearing in HS2 for the first time. One of the Calliope’s is nonbinary, I think, but I honestly can’t remember and I think it’s Meat Calliope? 
JOHN: do i get to know what that big thing under the sheet is?
ROXY: hmmmmmm no
JOHN: oh ok.
JOHN: are you sure? i mean, it seems like a pretty prominent feature of the room.
JOHN: space.
JOHN: wherever we are.
ROXY: and a totally mysterious n COMPLETELY inconspicuous feature it will have to remain for now
ROXY: we r kinda in a hurry here fyi
ROXY: and by that i mean
ROXY: we are in precisely the amount of hurry that means im excused from having to a that specific q rn
JOHN: right, sorry.
JOHN: i will pay no attention to the object behind the curtain.
ROXY: u catch on fast egbert
Oh thing HS2 has not been great at is that it has a lot of plot mysteries that are supposed to keep us enticed but they don’t really get implanted into the audience’s head (Remember Vrissy mysteriously collapsing that one time? Probably not, she did it off screen and the boys kind of laughed it off). This one’s hard to miss.
JOHN: so... this is all downstairs?
JOHN: it seems like you had a lot of work done.
ROXY: well no not x actly
ROXY: were in the old meteor
It’s kind of weird how this meteor keeps popping up like this. 
CALLIOPE: besides, hUman divorces are even more fascinating than i had ever imagined, and being able to witness yoUrs in motion was an honoUr.
This is an unexpected but not unwelcome direction for Callie to have gone.
CALLIOPE: ah right, right. yoU're probably a little cUrioUs as to where the dickens we are.
CALLIOPE: how much do yoU know aboUt black holes?
Oh, wow, we’re going right there, then. This does seem like a bit of a reaction to complaints HS2 wasn’t shmoovin’ enough, but maybe I’m reading too much into it.
CALLIOPE: no, i mean, what if oUr whole WORLD was inside a black hole.
JOHN: ok.
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A’ight, that got a laugh out of me
JOHN: ugh, i fucking KNEW it!
JOHN: i'm so sorry.
JOHN: i'm so sorry that i put the earth inside a black hole everyone. ):
I like this conversation a lot. 
ROXY: iirc at least part of y u got so weepy was the fact that u couldnt believe a version of earth existed where ppl got 2 watch more mcconaughey films than you
JOHN: listen.
JOHN: i simply don't think you all appreciated the gift you were given.
Quite a bit, in fact.
ROXY: ur not gonna enter a weird time vortex and change the trajectory of a little girls life with the power of love
JOHN: aw.
Roxy and John have a good dynamic. 
CALLIOPE: bUt Upon her departUre, the rift closed for good. as far as i can see, there's simply no way for Us to commUnicate with the world oUtside the black hole.
CALLIOPE: i woUld certainly be very sUrprised to find oUt that anyone had managed sUch a thing!
JOHN: ...right.
John’s phone has very good coverage, since he was able to talk to Terezi in the epilogues, as we’re being subtly reminded of here with that ... before the “right”. I wonder if it still works after alt-Calliope left.
CALLIOPE: oUr exclUsion from the overarching coUrse of events which governs all reality means that oUr existence here is liable to dramatic and violent Upheaval.
CALLIOPE: to pUt it another way, becaUse nothing in here "matters", we are likely to be sUbjected to things which are a bit bats in the belfry, for no reason other than it's totally insignificant to the wider canon of reality.
CALLIOPE: and mUch thoUgh i am personally titillated by some of the conseqUences of this predicament, it is a degrading way for Us to live. u_u
Okay, so we are now being explicitly told that living in the black hole is fucking with the characters and is part of the reason they make such baffling decisions, like Rose not telling Kanaya about Yiffy, or naming her daughter “Yiffy” in the first place.
CALLIOPE: we need yoU to free vriska from the clUtches of oUr misgUided friend jane, and bring her here, to the singUlarity.
ROXY: weve been calling it the plot point
CALLIOPE: yes, the plot point is a key part of oUr plan
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CALLIOPE: as far as we have been able to sUrmise, the only remaining method for escaping oUr grim confinement depends on leveraging the UniqUe properties of this location to create an event of sUch catalcysmic proportions that it simply cannot be contained within the black hole any more.
CALLIOPE: something SO dramatic, so hyper-relevant, that it becomes ontologically impossible for anyone to ignore it.
CALLIOPE: for that, we need an individUal of sUfficient narrative cloUt, so to speak.
CALLIOPE: and to liberate her, who better than the embodiment of the aspect of freedom itself?
So, the plan is literally for Vriska to be such a Huge 8itch that the black hole itself gets sick of her and yeets Earth C out of its own event horizon to freedom.
This is actually a great plan. 
And that’s Hamsteak. This definitely feels like a bit of a reaction to complaints about HS2, but hey, I dig it, I guess? Definite improvement over the last chapter.
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