#or that he's actually had finish and incomplete or something

[paeinovis]

Mom putting on Magellan tv (The Space Documentary Channel) activated my trap card (adhd ramble mode)

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Since you've mentioned Scarlet Lady in one of your posts, what's your opinion on it?

I've mentioned before that I'm a big Scarlet Lady fan, which is the only reason that I'm comfortable answering asks like this one. I don't publicly criticize the content of hobby creators. That's wildly inappropriate! Punch up, not down.

The linked post was a general discussion of the adaptation process and how @zoe-oneesama did a fantastic job, so for this one, I'm just going to do some general gushing because I do actually like praising and enjoying things!

Scarlet Lady's chosen format (comic) allows it to have this wonderful conversation with canon where it can rely on the framework of canon to tell it's own story while also using canon for jokes and meta commentary. This means that Scarlet Lady is about as close as fan content can get to a direct reboot because it's able to have moments like this one from the comic's first post:

[Image description: Adrien standing in his room after transforming into Chat Noir for the first time. He is beaming and his eyes are shining with excitement as he exclaims, "This is gonna be awesome!"]

A single picture that communicates everything we need to know about Adrien getting his miraculous. When I've done this same thing in fanfic, I had to write out the full scene because that's how novels work. You have to give the full picture. With a comic, you can just quickly acknowledge this thing that we all already know and then move on to the new stuff. A picture really is worth a thousand words! (Or, in my case, more like two thousand...)

This allows Zoe to keep the same akumas that we get in canon without her story feeling like a boring rehash because she can focus on what's different in her version. A novelization of the same content would have to show both the stuff that stays the same and the stuff that changes for it to be coherent. That's a lot less fun to read and write. It's why I basically never revisit canon akumas in my own stuff. It's just too derivative for the written word.

This is one of the big reasons that I loved Scarlet Lady. Because it was able to have that more directly conversation with canon, it was able to take canon and say, "hey, why don't we embrace the tone that you established in season one and retell the story with that vibe?" That's something that I desperately wanted to see, but that is totally unsuited to my chosen artistic form. It couldn't be a novel. It had to be a comic.

If you want to know what a true formula show version of Miraculous would look like, Scarlet Lady is it. It does everything that Miraculous should have done:

Sticks to a lighthearted tone where nothing is ever super serious

Keeps Gabriel entirely unsympathetic

Has slow character development and background hints at a bigger plot as the only serial elements, allowing the individual episodes to be their own story while never feeling incomplete or rushed

Allows characters other than Marinette to shine while keeping Marinette as the clear main character

Makes Adrien narratively important

MAKES THE LOVE SQUARE CUTE SO I CAN ACTUALLY SHIP IT

Understands that Lila and Chloe can't coexist as antagonists

Reverses the love square, which is the best way to tell their story. Yes, I will die on my "love diamond" hill. It's a good hill. Come join me. I'll bring cookies.

I could keep going, but you hopefully get my point. While Scarlet Lady is certainly not the only way to do a formula version of canon, it's proof that a formula version does work! You don't have to go the serious route for Miraculous to be successful.

I want to take some time to gush about the ending, but I don't want to spoil it, so I'll put that gushing under a "read more" in case anyone hasn't seen it. I'll finish out this less spoilerish section with this:

I feel like some people are surprised when they learn that I love Scarlet Lady because - as some of you have probably picked up - it is quite different from my ideal version of canon. I'm not sure why that would stop me from enjoying a thing, though. It's important to remember that our personal ideals are not the only way to tell a good story. There are lots of ways to take what canon gave us and make something wonderful! It's part of the reason that I enjoy being in a fandom.

If I only wanted to see my ideal take on canon, then I'd stick to writing/imagining my own stories. But I don't want that! I like seeing alternate takes, too. Scarlet Lady is one of my personal favorites. It's completely different from anything that I'd ever think to write and that's why I'm so glad that it exists! I like being entertained just as much as I like creating my own entertainment and I don't want to only read stories that look like something I'd write. That's boring!

Spoilers below:

I've mentioned before that there are many, many ways to properly handle Chloe's character and Zoe did such a good job with her take on that! Chloe isn't absolved of all the things she did wrong, but she's also treated as a young woman with the ability to change.

While the comic bares the name of Chloe's alter ego, she was the never the main character. She never went on a journey. The story kept her to her shallow season-one self: a petty brat who just wanted attention. It did this because that's who Chloe was in canon and who Chloe needed to be for the comic to work.

The first time we see any complexity from Chloe is in the comic's final few episodes, which was absolutely the right call for Zoe to make! In a recent post, I talked about how the end of a formula show is the only time when you can break the formula in catastrophic ways and that's what Zoe did. She kept Chloe static until it was time to end the story and that's when the formula breaks. That's when Chloe gets depth because, once she has depth, the formula doesn't work.

That depth is not used to redeem Chloe, but to show us that there's hope for Chloe. That this petty brat who we've been dealing with has some serious issues and needs help. Help that she's going to get far away from the people that she's hurt because her issues aren't an excuse for what she's done. They don't erase the harm that she caused. At the same time, understanding her issues makes us hope that she can be better now and Scarlet Lady took a moment to give us that hope. To show us the START of Chloe's true story.

That is the kind of ending that I have wanted to see in so many properties!!! It was so wonderful to finally get one that did this right. A story that understood that full redemption to the team and damnation to death/suffering are extremes on a scale of possibilities. You don't have to go to extremes! You can fall in the middle and the middle is a perfect, natural place for Chloe to land in this kind of story. Fully redeeming or even fully damning Chloe simply doesn't work in lighthearted formula content. It's too big a lift as canon has already demonstrated.

I also loved Zoe's take on Emilie. I've mentioned that I don't like evil Emilie in part because it makes her revival feel like the start of a new story. She's back and she'd bad, so we have to take her down now! But I don't want that. I want the story to end when Gabriel is stopped. Zoe does this by giving us an Emilie that is another perfect middle ground. She matches canon's uncomfortable implications without feeling like a true villain who is a threat to society.

[tomiyeee]

donnie had. SO. much concept art lol. i really enjoyed the whole design process though. his base design is very difficult to work with because of the battleshell, but it gave me a lot of chances to get creative and i'm happy with the results :)

(also as a disclaimer so i don't get asked about this: i don't have motivation to finish raph or the wish art for donnie, so i'm just posting what i've got)

i didn't annotate these as much since there'd be a lot to write, but i'll write out some of my thought processes and go into some detail about his final design below the cut if you're interested! (it's long. i'm talkative 😔)

1st row - first iteration; much more literal 1:1 translation of his design into a fantasy setting. very steampunk-y. ended up completely scrapping it because, simply put, he looked more like an npc than a playable character. obviously, several features did still carry over throughout the design process :3 also wanted to imagine his attack pattern cuz i thought it'd be fun to incorporate his spider arms.

this was actually the first design of any of them i'd come up with! i've definitely learned a lot about genshin's character design style since then and i think it shows 😂

2nd row - playing around with the idea of a floating battleshell (rather than a backpack-like one in the the show & first version), inspired by nahida's cape. also hard light constructs/attachments. was leaning too into the sci-fi and rectangular motifs with the design, but i liked the idea.

3rd/4rth rows - concepts for his final outfit and shell designs (the colored/more-detailed pics are the more finalized ones). took a lot of inspiration from sumeru this time around. it's a lot sharper, shinier, and less rectangular than his og aesthetic, but i think it's more in-line with genshin's design philosophies.

5th row - not entirely sure why i went through all the trouble of making a 3d model for this. i mostly just thought it'd be fun and good for reference. i was right, but i don't know what to do with it now lol. can't be bothered to be a perfectionist about it though, so don't look too closely at it 😭

6th row - incomplete thumbnails of his burst/wish art. not super sold on that "wing" design in particular, but i do like the idea of his shell splitting and deploying hard light weapons/rocket launchers/etc sort of like in canon.

battleshell/misc notes - i'm thinking his battleshell is controlled using the pink sensor on the back of his coat, possibly in combination with his headset. it floats behind him by default and is sturdy enough to protect his back, but he can also freely fly it around like a drone if he wants. the holes on the side are mainly for the spider arms and the banners(?) and handles(?) with the blue/pink gradient are made of hard light and only appear when the shell is in use.

i imagine like in the series, his tech here isn't necessarily very reliant on his vision/powers; much of it he likely made himself long before he received a vision and he just uses his vision to enhance it.

his burst is a barrage of missiles from his shell that lock onto an enemy and deal a large burst of electro damage in an AOE. not sure if i want his skill to be a deployable or some sort of electro-infusion/boost 🤔 maybe something that involves deploying his shell to boost his damage while leaving him vulnerable, like a glass canon? though i'm not sure he'd be that sort of risk-taker... 😅 dunno! his signature weapon would totally be his tech bo though.

that's about all i can think of. thanks for reading!

[throwaway-yandere]

𝗖𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 [Yandere!Dottore/Reader]

a/n: this fic is 100% dedicated to @leftdestiny-posts and they would know just how much they had inspired me in this fic once they finished reading it HAHAHAHAH. P.S.: the classical songs mentioned are actual songs. Yes, the title is half a joke. Here's the spotify playlist if you're curious.

Unreliable Synopsis: You cannot remember your past, but your doctor has been with you every step of the way— and he's more than willing to spend some time with you outside the hospital. Still... did you always have pure white hair?

CW: yandere themes, light body horror, manipulation, its dottore, c'mon LOL.

Concert II "Tristezza Di Fine Anno", performed by the Morespoke Philharmonic with their conductor, Lady Columbina, began nearly an hour ago. And you had the fortune of hearing their songs for yourself.

The well-dressed crowd filled the seats, behaving in what was appropriate for their high station. It was fully booked. The music overwhelmingly masked anyone's breaths, if they had one to start with. Her program can be felt deep in the audience's bones. Rattling them in each sforzando before it lulls down through the sound of her handpicked musicians— with Lady Columbina as the lonesome soloist when the moment calls for it.

"This piece, Symphony No. 5 in C-Sharp Minor, is not Columbina's own making, she had failed to mention that," your company hummed. "This was by another composer who hid behind the name Safed. They were a self-fulling prophecy. Do you wish to know what they said about this piece?"

You said nothing as Zandik— Lord Dottore— stroked your unnaturally "white" hair.

"They said that nobody understood the piece and that they wish they could conduct the first performance five centuries after their death."

Zandik smiled.

"What say you? Do you think those words are true?"

Your company was a tall and thin man with artificially pale-ish skin and wavy blue hair. His eyes were reportedly bloodshot crimson, although you had not received proof of that in this lifetime. But, you were drawn to his deep ocean-like colors, and that was enough to keep you mildly complacent to his strange remarks.

Zandik is surprisingly a considerate man, but he must've brought you with him for a reason. He told you himself that the reason he brought you out of your prison-like hospital room was a mere experiment on his behalf. Paradigm-shifting consequences of his strange social experiments with you are likely to occur, and he cares not for its ethical debates. He won't ask for rhetorics; these to him are tangible outcomes and no questions will be entertained.

All except his.

"I think… "

The composition had a serene, slightly asymmetrical feel to it. You were certain this was Lady Columbina's creative liberties at play. Something about it did not capture its true authenticities. The show purported to narrate three stories: the first concerned a judge who had to find a loved one guilty; the second concerned a prince who drove their beloved into despair; and the final was a tale of a knight who disregarded his obligation to defend a loved one.

But it felt incomplete. As if there was a missing piece— a secret fourth act hiding between the notes and stage.

"A person can't completely mourn for something they would never experience," you told him. "But even so, if I were Safed, I'd feel like my effort would've been a waste."

His eyes remained trained on your hair as you spoke. Zandik seems to dislike it. Unlike his cells mixed with engineered nanomaterials, yours are uniquely… "natural". His hair has a color intensity, whereas yours was the presence of every color— as physics explained it.

"Something they would never experience…" Zandik repeated, tasting the words on his tongue— a smirk etched on his face as though it tasted like bitter irony.

You continued.

"I have a hunch that Safed put everything they worked hard on all their pieces because Lady Columbina wouldn't have performed it otherwise. Since all the songs on the concert's program are marketed as underappreciated compositions, I would… um… infer that they also questioned their works and ultimately themselves if it all had worth in the end. Hopeless for the lack of attention, they probably thought there's more hope if they lived in another generation."

You wanted to say, though you're not sure where this negativity came from, that they probably despised how their well-crafted works were ignored and their sloppy yet significantly more popular compositions angered them.

But you're not Safed. You don't want to put words in their mouth.

".... Hmm, an acceptable hypothesis— a decent one, even," whatever monotonous response Zandik wished to convey, his voice betrayed his grand satisfaction. "Yet I won't give you any confirmation."

"I know."

Zandik laughed.

"The next piece is Norn's Adagio for Strings Op. 11, before the closing Symphony No. 6, better known as Pathétique Symphony, in B Minor Op. 74."

You tilted your head innocently. "Pathetic?"

"Another piece by Safed. It's a Fontaine-translated title. It's originally named pateticheskaya, which meant passionate or emotional, not at all pitiable."

He crossed his arms, insulted as though he was the one who came up with the original title.

"Roughly half a millennium past, the masses attributed Safed's demise to the strains of their final composition, the so-called Pathétique, a mere nine days preceding their exit from this mortal coil. The prevailing narrative spouts a tale of a tragic surrender to the clutches of undiagnosed clinical depression. I find such simplicity in analysis rather pedestrian, wouldn't you agree?"

You took a while to process his inquiry before hesitantly nodding.

"I… I think so."

Zandik smiled.

It's hard to tell if it's genuine, especially when such a protruding mask hides his eyes. Should its existence vanish, you aren't certain you'd see a soul within his pupils either.

"Safed hated this piece, believing it should be cast aside and forgotten. They were living in the woodlands when they wrote it— and when they decided to live with their benefactor, it was suddenly difficult to tear them away from their work."

You nodded to cue that you were still listening.

"They have an incredibly deep connection with their works. One might say they see in tunes rather than color."

You nodded again.

"Your inclination towards a perpetual affirmation of propositions, presumably to veil any potential lacunae in your cognitive purview, does not escape me. It is, if I may be so bold, your agreement that conceals your specter of unfamiliarity, right?"

You rarely understand a word he says when he is in this passionate state. You just nod as if you knew.

"Adorable," Zandik chuckled.

His voice was chillingly low yet… comforting. 

"Your sincerity constitutes an enchanting facet of your comportment."

He had to be teasing you.

"Although…" Zandik grabbed a few locks of your hair as though it was slimy and unpleasant— quickly retracting them with a disapproving tilt. "You could stand to utilize more (h/c) hair dyes. How is it conceivable that it has returned to white yet again?"

You opened your mouth but Zandik raised a finger.

"No. I am the scholar here. Do not answer."

You giggled. "Understood, Doctor."

He grinned, inadvertently showing off his pointed canines.

"What a good test subject you are, my dear (Y/n)."

Whether good was a subjective or objective assessment or not was up to interpretation.

The mid-concert intermission began, allowing Lady Columbina's pressured musicians a 20-minute sigh of relief. Zandik ushered you to the back where the Lady Harbinger reposed on a white sofa, her cheek brushing a visibly soft and cloud-like pillow. The bright backstage lighting made her seem ethereal.

She looked like heaven, but Zandik would argue that "(Y/n)" is the true epitome of the word.

"Greetings. As expected, you'd initiate conversation at the earliest convenience." She cooed. "You look younger today, Doctor."

"You know very well that I do not take that as a compliment, Columbina." Zandik scoffed. "How many times will we rehearse this canned script until it is a learned lesson?"

"Perhaps it shall end on the day you refrain yourself from recreating… perspectives."

"Since my encounter with the Dendro Archon, I have not revisited that notion."

Columbina's gentle smile dropped coldly. "You know that your segments are not what I am referring to."

You looked back and forth between the two. Each of them was a distinctively unique person and it's a challenge to take your eyes away from the other.

Hence, when you felt Lady Columbina's eyes on you, you shook and straightened yourself before bowing stiffly.

"G-Greetings, Lady Columbina!!!"

Her gentle smile resurfaced.

"Greetings to you as well, dear Safed."

You blinked.

Dottore clicked his tongue, and Columbina laughed softly.

"Apologies, I meant to say (Y/n)— that is the name you go by in this era of humanity, right?"

You'd rightfully claim that between the three of you, you were the most human. Zandik has his clones, Columbina's origins are of strict secrecy, and you are a mere amnesiac patient. But the way she addressed you was sounding awful like stripping you away with that sense of humane identity.

"Yes? I guess?"

Columbina delightedly buzzed in your reply. "(Y/n)— truly a lovely name. That must mean that you're very healthy! It warms my heart to hear that name again. The other ones had terribly dull names, but if the Doctor had given you this title, then it must mean his research is finally drawing to a close."

Her remarks made little sense. You know little about yourself and trust only the Doctor's judgment. Should you trust her words, then it must mean (Y/n) isn't your real name…

But… that doesn't seem right either. 

"Not quite, the name deserves no celebration," Dottore replied happily. "I merely ran out of translations. Bianco, Wit, Bái— what else is there? Ancient Natlan?"

"Scientists truly make for terrible poets— Why not try Inazuman?" Columbina offered.

Those words must have had a heavy weight to them because Zandik pondered for much longer than expected.

"Hmm. I'll keep that in mind," Zandik muttered. "Although it is preferable it does not have to reach that point."

"May I ask why did you bring them here?" Columbina asked.

"It's a bit of an unconventional experiment, but I've been exploring how to elicit positive associations with certain stimuli. Exposing them to music as I accompany them should cause them to associate the emotional response it elicits with being around me." Dottore hummed. "It would be asinine to put them in a chaotic yet controlled environment such as a theme park. While a racing heart may be effective, I shouldn't risk a (Y/n)'s well-being by subjecting them to roller coasters."

"Are you sure you're not the scared one?" You asked cheekily. Zandik rolled his eyes.

She shook her head.

"What a roundabout way of saying you're taking them out on a concert date…"

Columbina looked at you once more.

"Oh, but (Y/n), you appear unwell, my dear…" she pointed at stage left. "Why don't you fix yourself up in the nearest restroom?"

Dottore raised an eyebrow, which made you want to decline Columbina.

"I'm r-really okay, Lady Colum—"

"I insist."

Columbina smiled wider. Her laced mask cast a gloomy shade on her visage.

You had no other choice.

"O… Okay."

The halls that led to the restroom were mostly empty. Perhaps it was due to Lady Columbina's performance that made them patiently await the next song.

But there was one young man you encountered along the way. He had blonde half-way braided hair and purple-ish eyes. You paid him no mind as he circled a small rectangular paper, likely the concert's ticket, between his fingers. However, within a second, that paper vanished.

You stopped in your tracks and looked at him curiously, wondering if your eyes played tricks. He laughed, noting your attention.

"Ah! Sorry," he cheerfully gestured a small wave. "Didn't mean to practice in public."

The blonde man approached you with a smile.

"You're #9805, right?"

Immediately, you both got on the wrong foot.

Your nose scrunched, "I prefer (Y/n)."

The man flinched. "Oh, yikes! I'm not making the best first impression— nice to meet you (Y/n)! I have something for you."

You thought he was handing you his concert ticket for a moment but when you took a good look, it was a grayscale brochure.

And a white tulip…

"Um…"

"Needless to say, I'm something of a—"

"Trickster?"

"Magician, but an astute guess nonetheless!" He laughed sheepishly. "I was waiting for you, I thought you wouldn't go to the restroom."

So, did Lady Columbina plan this?

You caressed the binding and skimmed through the pages. "What's this for?"

"Father said you might be interested in its contents," the young man said. "That's all."

You blinked.

"... Are you saying you missed out most of the concert just to hand me this?"

He laughed awkwardly again. "My dear sister says I have a habit of missing a hint of romanticism when it counts, so I guess today's just one of those moments."

"Did you not like the music?" You scoffed, temper rising.

"Did you hate the composition? Did you not understand the e-emotion behind the chords? Don't you understand just how d-disrespectful that was?!"

"Woah, woah, I didn't say any of that." His eyes widened.

He didn't expect your voice to crack.

"I'm so sorry if you're offended— are you one of the original composers?"

…

You took a deep breath.

… Why were you mad?

… Why did it feel like those songs mean more to you than meets the eye?

"Sorry, I just…" You shook your head. "I guess I'm not feeling well. Oh, no, I'm so SO sorry…"

An unknown part of you thrived to hear him praise the music. That same part pitied the composer who worked day and night to perfect their piece. It's an ugly voice, but it was sincere.

… What was wrong with you? Why did you suddenly lash out? What was going on?

"Oh, well there's no need to be sorry then." The blonde man took his hat off and bowed.

"Farewell, Mx. (Y/n)!" He grinned. "The greatest magician in all Teyvat will take his leave. Thank you for your time!"

With the sway of his dark cape, he disappeared.

You entered the restroom to wash your face. It didn't do much to soothe your nerves. The lingering dread for your strange emotional mood swing remained.

To distract yourself, you read through the article.

The Enigmatic Legacy of Composer Safed

In the annals of musical history, few figures emerge as enigmatic and hauntingly captivating as the orchestral composer, Safed. Born five centuries ago amidst the ancient woodlands of Sumeru, this ethereal musician seemingly materialized from Vanarama with no familial relations.

Huh… So it's about the one who wrote the previous compositions earlier.

No wonder that blonde man asked if you were one of the composers. He was being a smartass.

A Fiery Finale: The Pathétique Symphony

Legend has it that in their final act of emotional expression, Safed penned the "Pathétique Symphony," a composition so emotionally charged that, overwhelmed with disdain for their creation, they purportedly set ablaze their woodland home. Seeking solace and escape, Safed accepted the benevolent offer of a city-dwelling benefactor.

…

…

Safed… burned down their house?

No…

No, that's not how you remembered that.

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

That's not what happened. "Safed" didn't burn their house down.

Suddenly, you stilled. Your thoughts ran wild, but your inner rationale tried to force them to a halt. This peak in anxiety did not make sense.

… Why would an amnesiac like you know what happened?

A Swansong: Il Dottore's Beneficence

Their benefactor, now celebrated as our Lord Harbinger, Il Dottore, welcomed Safed into the city's heart. It was here that the truth unfolded: Safed had been grappling with hearing loss for years, an affliction that fueled their artistic brilliance yet cloaked them in a muffled world. They were unaware of their disability, yet thrived in their field.

…

…

Wait…

Before you began to read the final paragraph in Safed's brochure, you hurriedly went back to Dottore and the composer's vintage photographed portraits.

After seeing their face, you dropped the brochure in the restroom's sink.

You saw their face.

You saw YOUR face and Zandik's.

But not quite. That was you, but at the same time, it wasn't. Zandik looked stiff in those photos with "you", likely a product of the time since Kamera photography was used only in rare formalities that required a bit of dress up. But the "you" you saw was sickly way beyond the formal costumes. They had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair, but yours were all white. 

White…

Safed… That's the Sumeru translation for white, isn't it?

Bianco, Wit, Bái— they're all translations for "white", aren't they? And if Dottore and Columbina's earlier conversations were to go by, the one after you would be named Shiro.

…

The one… after you?

"Tut tut."

You trembled at the familiar sound.

You slowly turned your head around and there he was, leaning against the restroom door.

"You were in the restroom for too long. It appears my suspicions were not unfounded."

Without waiting for a response, he approached with large strides. His gloved hands seized your stressed shoulders. The grip tightened harshly as he forced you to meet his intense gaze. Blood trailed from the corner of your mouth, and your anxiety heightened. He angrily bared his sharp teeth as he watched it stain his gloves.

And yet Zandik looks…

Sad.

And distressed.

He pressed his earpiece.

"Test Subject #9805 exhibits troubling symptoms. Hematemesis suggests a severe physiological response. Persistent manifestations of albinism in ocular and follicular pigmentation indicate underlying deformities. Immediate isolation is warranted for the researcher and subject's well-being."

His hand was cold. Skin imbued with silver nanomaterials after several operations, reminiscent of the age-old philosophical question: "Is it still the same ship if you gradually replace all of its parts?" 

Then Zandik did something unexpected.

He dropped his hold and you prepared yourself by shutting your eyes as he swung his arm.

To hug you.

"I'm sorry, I have failed you again, (Y/n)," Zandik muttered. "I should not have raised my expectations."

"W… What? Why are you putting me in isolation?" You asked, rattled. "What have I done?! I just— I didn't do anything wrong! What did I—"

He shifted, dragging your arm to hug him back as though you were a little girl's doll. Zandik rested his head on your shoulder, shaking slightly.

"In your innocence, no fault lies. I thought I had accomplished what I had set out to do, and met unfulfilled expectations" Zandik gritted his teeth, voice somber. "Despite centuries of refinement, it appears that I still have room for improvement in perfecting the process… I was right. This deserves no celebration."

The doctor laughed sadly.

"When will I ever be proven wrong?" He asked himself as he wiped the blood off the corner of your lips.

He pulled away, pecking your forehead.

"I'm sorry."

Those were not the words you expected from his mouth, and yet you heard it more than once. I'm sorry. It does not fit his character, nor does the tender yet cold hug he had given prior.

You're scared. You're terrified. You know what was bound to come. You know what awaits you. White walls. Silence. Separation.

Solitary.

Far from a choice. Far from negotiable.

There's no amnesty.

And yet, the words flowed from you naturally.

"... I forgive you."

You have no idea why you said what you said. There's no certainty that you believed your own words. Zandik's lip twitched downward.

"You should not," Zandik croaked. "Why? Why must you always forgive and accept my selfishness? Do you derive satisfaction in seeing me in this state?!"

You opened your mouth to answer but were stopped abruptly as he grabbed your hair.

Zandik had always favored you compared to other patients. You know this very well. He's an evil man and the list of actions he had done that had harmed you in the name of science is at least two pages long upon your awakening. Yet, you were sure he liked you enough for he told you of his new exciting experiments. He scolded you when you left his research institute for fresh air. And he would hold your hand whenever you dreaded those thick injections.

You just didn't know he had it in him to fold from his intimidating facade just to kiss you like a desperate man. 

Breathless under his control, he softly pressed his lips against yours. His lips were chapped and cold, and he took you in gently as though he'd break you. Zandik, as strange as it was, still seemed to prioritize your comfort over his needs. Normally, this tension would've made him so short-tempered. But this will be your last interaction. The doctor tasted your blood in his mouth, and he was nauseous at the thought of hurting you more. But he stopped. Even though he wishes to force all his pent-up desires onto you. Even though he wanted to love you thoroughly that you'd forget your name again.

Zandik whimpered quietly as he pulled away— sounding like a dog that would not sleep that night. What was left in between was a thin disappearing line of saliva and blood that quickly broke off.

The doctor should be happy he finally got to have a proper date with you after 9805 failed attempts. 

But he's not content.

He was about to lean in for the second time but stopped himself. Selfish. To think he nearly saw you two finally walking down the aisle. Why was he always so selfish when it came to you? But those rhetorics mattered not in your head.

You were silenced. You were held.

You were loved.

"No." Zandik breathed in, laughing humorlessly. "No— I am the scholar here. Don't answer."

And you will be disposed of.

"Take them away." He spoke to his men calmly. They had entered long enough to witness what he had done. The men did not hesitate to grab you, thinking Dottore thought you no more than a mere toy.

But calm was deceptive. It does not convey the distress that chokes him.

Maybe…

Maybe in the 9806's trial… he'll have you as he always wanted.

The Fatuus that escorted you in was gentle. A silent guide. The expression on her face was clear that she wanted to extend her apologies as well but mustn't.

You already have a white tulip in hand.

Arlecchino already sended her regards in advance.

When she opened the door by tapping a card against the lock, she bowed her head. You let yourself enter without a fight. The room was pure white with the rest of the furniture matching the drapes. But Dottore didn't just provide the necessities. There were books, sketch pads, and other recreational materials.

As you were about to approach the center, something was off on both sides.

You looked to your left.

Two clear mirrors divided your room from the others. There's a sign on the left wall. Code #4135.

You stood, shocked, grieving at the sight of your predecessor. They were a mirror of you but with a different name— and an even worse state.

One had made a slight sound coming off their skin— rotting slightly. There's a tube connected to their mouth and you could see yourself— you could see them dripping. They had your face. Their hair and eyes were white. The nose was gone, leaving a gaping hole. Their neck was cricked back at an unnatural angle. You don't know if they're still breathing. They're still bleeding. They must've bitten off their tongue.

There's a lone white blanket that covers the rest of them.

You think they might be dead.

You think "you" might've died more than once.

THUD!

You jolted at the sound coming from the wall behind you. Upon seeing their body, you froze.

Code #032.

They were but a head. You wish you could only focus on that aspect, but you looked lower and your hair raised. They cannot feel the same, for they were almost only a spine left. The rest of them were their skeletal frame, guided by thin lines one can barely call flesh.

Their head banged against the mirror. The thought that the sound was what made you flinch earlier made you unwell.

They seem to be telling you something. Their breath fogged up the glass and their thinned white hair splayed across your view. Their mouth said something urgently you couldn't comprehend because their tongue was paper-like in size.

#032 was shaking. Their pain grew vivid in every movement that the room was starting to spin. You sensed their turmoil.

They looked like death.

You all looked like death itself, both the pretty and ugly ends of it.

"Don't." You whispered, begging as you knelt to their level. "You don't have to speak."

You laughed deprecatingly.

"We're not the scholar here. He is."

In every syllable, you saw the outline of their esophagus strain. The nerves were blueish purple. The little skin they have left on their cheeks is sunken. Their lips were gnawed, likely as a response to the pain they'd gone through previously. Fists of bone tapped against the glass, and you quivered, imagining their pain.

You were not afraid of them. You only mourned their anguish. In fact, you feel at ease to be in the presence of yourself from the past.

It reminded you of what "Safed" had allegedly spoken years ago.

Nobody understood the pieces you made and you wished you could conduct the first performance five centuries after your first death.

And now, here you are.

Seeing two "people" who do understand you.

And they share your face.

"Pathetically", the only one that can understand you is yourself.

You're all flies trapped in a web that the predator refuses to wrap and consume out of pity. Compared to the others, you looked fine.

But your lungs were blistering.

Despite their deathly ill and mutilated bodies, you were the one bound to die soon enough.

His experiments worked.

You love him.

You love Zandik.

And how tragic it was that the person who learned how to love him was doomed to perish.

In your last minutes, you recalled something vital:

As an outsider, your body was not meant for this world, but after encountering the woodland creatures and Zandik, it became tremendously difficult to part ways with it.

You coughed up yet again with a gentle smile on your face. Maybe you're not dying…

Maybe you're just returning home, for every atom in your multiple bodies was once part of the galaxy.

You are (Y/n) (L/n).

And you were not from Teyvat.

Much like the rest of the descenders, you have a quirk about you that sets you apart from the norm. For the travelers the world reveres today, it was their distinct determination and questionable age that was remarkable. Yours slightly titters to an inhuman level.

You can "clone" yourself.

Zandik and the "original" you wouldn't phrase it in that manner, but it's the easiest way to describe your talents.

"So, it is cloning." Zandik paused. "Mind letting me in on the science behind the process?"

He was an ordinary student when you both met. Far from a doctor, but at least he was a registered scholar in the Akademiya. Zandik didn't have an eloquent tongue as he does in the present, yet his curiosity burned all the same.

Which is why, back then, you thought his questions were cute.

Not dangerous.

"It's not that I can make copies of myself without consequences," you humored with a grin. "I'm just making… fragments of myself. Segments, if you prefer to call it that. It's a common ability for the people back in my world. None of us do it excessively— especially since we're kind of an invasive species." 

Zandik raised an eyebrow, "is that a commendable trait?"

"My kind says so. Whether good is a subjective or objective assessment or not is up to interpretation." You answered noncommittedly. "I don't think that's right. Our soul splits apart until we're just… empty. We lose some memories in the process."

"But functioning?"

"In a sense, yeah, but we lose a part of ourselves like memories and well, hair color, I guess." You nodded. "Why are you so curious?"

"Since you have rejected my confession, I want to try my hand at seducing a copy of yours instead," Zandik said. You couldn't tell whether he was joking with his naturally piercing red eyes. "Until then, you are not allowed to asexually reproduce without my authorization. Understood?"

You laughed. Unaware of his arsonist crimes, you willingly indulged his words.

"I owe you my ears, so it's only right that I'll listen to your commands, Zandik."

"Good." Zandik grinned, shark-like.

"What a good test subject you are, (Y/n)."

Centuries later, that closing sentence will continue to remain true.

Since then, his life has changed. Multiplied, even. Upon studying your genetic makeup, he found ways to duplicate himself as well. Despite his feats in science, Zandik remained unhappy.

Deep down, all the Harbingers pity the Doctor who cannot save his most loved one. That includes both Columbina and Arlecchino.

No one protests even when harmful orders are given; everything appears fine until the symptoms are felt. Because the organism— the astral descender— has no nerves or voice, he continues to assume that the patient is not in pain.

The patient needs peace but because they are not to speak, they remain silent, and the need persists.

The patient wants to eat and breathe fresh air, but because such desires might hurt the feelings of the doctor who thinks he has done everything needed, the patient remains quiet, contemplating desires out of fear of reprimand.

The original (Y/n) (L/n) suffers in silence. In a white room only accessible by a man who continues to nurse his unrequited love: Zandik.

No one else can enter this room.

He won't allow it. Only he can be obsessed with you.

The thought of you haunts him like a smiling reflection upon window panes— like a gift of a Trojan horse with nothing but your echoing laughter and hospital monitor beeps inside. Your thin limbs were marching clock hands with rusted gears that miraculously function till the end of time.

What is immortality for if every day was a death loop?

It is such a lonely concept…

You ought to be thankful that he's willing to be your eternal company.

"I endeavored to elicit a reciprocation of my sentiments from the latest subject. Regrettably, their discovery of my antecedent experiments transpired prematurely. Nevertheless, as asserted several times, it remains but a temporal inevitability until an iteration of yourself succumbs to having an interest towards me." Dottore hummed.

He held your feet.

He held Test Subject #01's feet.

If you spoke up, he would've bragged about how he was right. How people do love your songs. But no one knows if you can't or won't answer him. This one-sided conversation is the punishment for his hubris.

He took out a sharp knife and cut off one of your toes. You no longer feel any pain as you bleed into his hands. What a kind man the doctor is, for he blocked all your pain receptors years ago. It's a good thing you regenerate quickly.

That's what he loved and hated about you.

You only gave and gave.

But you never ran out of soul. You never ran your heart fully dry— and that left you ill. Zandik could never let you go.

You're already a part of him.

Hence, he must not make clones of exaggerated memories. He wanted your perfect yet healthy replica.

Praise be the white corpuscles extracted from your veins which had brought him new life. You were the reason for his research. You were the breath that gave his segments life. You were his muse, much like he was yours.

"Fear not, (Y/n)," he reassured with a measured tone. "Upon my mastery of the arts, I intend to reinstate your autonomy and awareness. Perhaps then, you shall find the organic inclination to reciprocate affection toward me by the 9806's trial. Until then…"

In other words, give him more time and he'll reinvent love.

He leaned his forehead against yours.

"I'm so, so sorry."

And ultimately, he'll reinvent YOU.

"Can I have another piece of your scalp?"

"No."

"Do you not understand the weight of this research or must I expound on it further in another three-hour presentation?"

"Alternatively, you could start by saying that you're sorry," you raised an eyebrow. "I'm still not over the fact you randomly cut a piece of my ear when I was asleep, doctor. You know, I heard from the aranaras that white tulips are given to someone when they ask for forgiveness."

Zandik smirked.

"Regrettably, it seems that such an occurrence is unlikely to transpire. Do not expect such words and gifts from me."

You smiled.

"We'll see, we'll see."

Taglist (pls notify if you wish to be on the taglist for the last two): @average-yandere-enjoyer @pix-stuff @sagekun @vennnnn-diagram @dilucragnidvr @tnsophiaonly @lsleepysimpl

[directdogman]

hi your recent post about the themes in randy's route was super interesting cause i've been invested in trying to dissect the themes of each route in the game. you also pointed out some other symbolism that i didn't even catch onto!

you made a point about abandoning fictional/idealized versions of the past, and i was wondering what are some examples in other routes of this?? (like karen, oliver, etc.). i'm super curious to hear more about the actual messages/thought-process behind each route in general lol

thank you!!

With Oliver's route, it's abandoning trying to save Mr Dicken's failing business and agreeing to start something new with him. (There's a little more to it than that, but I'd have to go more into Oliver's backstory to explain the symbolism of what this means. Maybe I'll finish that short story when Roger's route comes out and go into a bit of it!)

For Karen, it's abandoning a job she's had for a long time + hates with no real promise of promotion of acknowledgement of effort/value, alongside her previous mindset that she only has value if she's seen a certain way or has a life she hates living.

Bigfoot's is more about self acceptance than abandoning the past, though we do see that Bigfoot is clearly living in the past when he shows Gingi a photo of his old family and indicates he still misses them dearly and likely still thinks about them a lot and the fact his family were taken impacts his ability to trust people (very very skittish beast.)

For Norm's route, it's both Norm + Mingus abandoning their semi-fictional views of the past and coming to terms with the idea of looking forward and trying to build a better Dialtown that isn't specifically based on their incomplete perspectives on what Crown's fully realized vision could've been.

Most of the developed characters are living somewhat in the past in some sense or another. Even Stabby + Shooty had a small arc that was cut from the basegame!

[many-gay-magpies]

hello dead boy detectives fandom and bbc merlin fandom. i know there is a decent overlap between the two out there because i am either followed by or have followed several blogs myself that post about both merlin and dead boy detectives, so hopefully this finds its target audience. anyway a little while ago i became obsessed with the idea of merlin and kashi being besties, so i started writing a thing, and i don’t know if or WHEN i’ll finish the thing but i don’t want it to stay hidden until then so i am posting the incomplete and very unpolished version to tumblr. and who knows maybe if people like it that will give me the motivation to rewatch some merlin and actually finish it

anyways without further ado. here’s 1000 words of merlin engaging in (fairly mild) shenanigans in port townsend

—

There was a cat sitting on a rock.

Port Townsend had quite a lot of cats, Merlin had discovered. There had been at least one in sight at all times since he’d arrived in the small coastal town. This cat was regarding him with an expression that might have been called scrutinizing, had it been made by any face other than a cat’s. That is to say, it looked rather like cats typically do, which is scrutinizing as it is.

“Hello,” said Merlin, just to be polite. He had a bit of time before Kashi’s host—Angie, he’d said her name was—came to the surface, after all, and he was in the mood for a spot of conversation.

“Oh, great, it’s another o’ you English twats,” said the cat. “The hell are you doin’ here?”

“I’m visiting an old friend,” said Merlin. “We meet for tea every so often, to catch up. This’ll be my first time seeing his new place. I won’t be staying long.”

The cat settled further onto the rock, folding all four of its legs underneath its body. Its tail flicked lightly before curling around its haunches.

“Good,” it said. “Hopefully you won’t cause as much trouble as those two dead little shits from a couple months back. Brits, I tell ya—ain’t good for nothin’. The Cat King’s still hung up on the stuffy little asshole.”

Merlin hummed. “Huh. I don’t think I’ve met a king of cats before. What’s he like?” He’d met a number of kings in his times, including, quite recently, the King of Dreams—but that number had never included a king of Cats.

“None o’ your fuckin’ business,” said the cat. “Hold on—who are you, anyway? You don’t smell human, and you’re not dead.”

“I’m Merlin,” said Merlin. He thought it sticking his hand out for a shake, then thought better of it. “Pleased to meet you.”

The cat snorted. “What, like the wizard?”

“Warlock, actually,” said Merlin. “But yes.”

The cat opened its mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by a whispered voice floating up from the shore.

Arthur’s voice.

“Merlin,” he called, his voice sounding exactly as it always had when Merlin did something far too stupid and risky for a servant, and he had to hide his worry under blankets of annoyance. “Merlin, are you there?”

“Fuckin’ Christ, again?” The cat grumbled. “There wadn’t even no storm last night!”

Merlin cleared his throat, shaking loose the small lump that had grown there at the sound. Kashi had warned him about Angie’s hunting techniques, so he’d known what to expect, but it was still something of a shock to hear in person.

“I think that’s my ride,” Merlin said. He turned to the cat and gave a little wave. “I’ll be off, then. Thanks for chatting with me!”

“Wha—hey!!” The cat exclaimed as Merlin turned and headed for the cliff. “No—Oi, stop that! Don’t—oh, brother…”

Merlin leaned over the stone barrier to peer down into the water, where a large light was pulsing visibly just below the surface. As he watched, his phone began to ring in his jeans pocket. He was still watching when he brought it up to his ear to answer.

“Hello, my friend!” Crackled Kashi’s enthusiastic voice from the end of the line.

Merlin squinted against the rays of sunlight lancing off the water.

“Is that you down there, Kashi?”

“Yes, it is me. And this is Angie! Say, hello, Angie!”

A loud, almost thunderous roar shook the sound, sending waves clawing at the sandy shore below.

“Hi, Angie,” Merlin shouted down to the creature. Then he waved. He doubted she could see him, but it didn’t hurt to be polite.

To Kashi, he asked, “How should I get in? Should I teleport?”

“Best not,” said Kashi. “Your style of teleportation might upset her stomach. Just jump down! She will catch you. Being swallowed is not the most pleasant feeling, but I’ve asked her not to chew on you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been swallowed before,” said Merlin, thinking back to a very particular instance with a giant snake in the Andes mountains. That was the time he discovered he could bounce back from being fully digested—although digging himself out of a pellet of giant snake dung after his body reformed inside it had not been fun.

“Are you there, Merlin?”

Merlin shuddered and shook his head to clear it of the discomfiting deja vu. “Yeah—yep. I’ll be right down. I just jump in?”

“Exactly, yes,” said Kashi. “It is not a far drop, so you should be fine.”

“Right,” said Merlin. “Well, see you in a minute, then.”

“Looking forward to it!”

Merlin hung up and deftly tucked the phone back into his pocket. Then, he climbed up onto the stone wall, and—after ensuring there was no one around to be traumatized by what it would seem like he was doing—performed an exquisite swan dive into the water.

Being swallowed was about as pleasant a feeling as Merlin remembered it being. That is to say, he felt rather how he imagined toothpaste being squeezed out of the tube might feel, had it possessed any of the five senses or been in any way alive. This time, though, he did not have to endure the process of being digested—which had taken nearly a month, given that Merlin’s first time being swallowed had been by a gigantic snake—and was instead spat out onto the floor of a large, warmly-lit cavern, drenched to the bone and coated in fish mucus.

A step up from being digested by a snake, all things considered.

“Eugh,” said Merlin.

It was then, of course, that Kashi appeared, stooping down and offering Merlin a hand to pull himself up with. Merlin took it and thanked him.

“Welcome in, welcome in!” Kashi said, grinning widely. “Sorry about the mess. I tried to clean up a bit before you came, but things got thrown around in the journey to the surface. Speaking of—“ he raised a finger, and the ground beneath Merlin’s feet—which was disturbingly hard and dry for being the stomach of a fish—began to shake. “—she seems to be going back to the bottom now. Come, sit, so you don’t lose your feet!”

“Nice place you’ve got,” Merlin said, allowing Kashi to lead him across the quaking floor to a small table near the back. “Definitely the best-furnished stomach I’ve ever been in.”

“Yes, it’s very nice,” Kashi agreed.

[radioapple-heathen]

Masterpost

Hi folks! Since I've had an influx of new followers lately, figured it was about time I made one of these pinned posts.

Blurb: She/Her, married, thirties, aspec, rampant ADHD'er raising the next generation of neurodivergents. This was meant to be a sideblog for my brief fascination with radioapple, but now I'm actually hyperfixating on this pair, reading an unhealthy amount of fanfic, and writing fics, so I guess I'm stuck in this Hell with a very respectable penname to match. You can call me Hikari (a relic of my first ever fandom).

I usually won't take on more than 1-2 writing projects at a time, any more than that is a surefire way for me to end up with multiple incomplete projects, and it's really important to me that I finish the things I start (while fighting my ADHD brain every step of the way). Check out my fics, headcanons, and rec lists below!

My Fics:

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

Multi-Chap, 4/4, Complete.

Summary:

Lucifer stumbles upon a rather effective way of shutting up The Radio Demon.

Alternatively, Alastor can't cope with his feelings and makes it everyone else's problem.

2. loml

Multi-Chap, 8/20, In Progress.

Summary:

“Why him?”

Lucifer crosses his arms over his stomach, hands clasping onto opposite elbows; a simulation of the hug he so desperately needs.

There’s a lot he can say here.

Like how Alastor makes his hopeless heart flutter with the belief that maybe dreams are still possible; that Alastor makes him feel something, anything, everything all at once, and it is as heavenly as it is torturous.

But all he can manage, in a voice so small he can scarcely believe it's his own, is, “He makes me laugh.”

Chapter Art: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

My Rec Lists:

My Top 10 Series Recs

My Top 10 Multi-Chap Recs

My Top 10 Oneshot Recs

(These are subject to change and will fluctuate over time as new content becomes available! But as of 9/1/2024, these are my top recs!)

My Headcanons:

Find them here!

[blueberry-pride]

Can you do headcanons for Leona, Jack, Trey, and the tweels with a small gn!s/o who “borrows” their clothing items (like a jacket or something) often and it looks super oversized? 

It's Not Called "Stealing"~

warnings: N/A

Berry: Hi everyoone! New Years are upon us and as you may have noticed I've closed the ask box but it is temporarily to help me setup for the follower event! I will finish the rest of the requests before I officially announce what I have in store <3

The first time he saw this, He was about to greet you but almost immediately went to shut his mouth cuz he didn't wanna interrupt what you were doing (It's a funny and adorable sight to him)

Lowkey is the type to take blurry pics of you wearing his clothes, especially the jacket he wore in the Vargas camp. He'd tease you afterward of course ~

He'd be a bit weary especially if you so happen to "borrow" his dorm hat (cuz he doesn't wanna have an incomplete uni in front of Riddle) but when his outfit is not in use he'd happily lend it to you

Would be the type of BF that would help you adjust his clothing to fit you better. I see him as the cheeky one who he'd keep on "fixing" his hat on top of your head for a little longer just too close to see you get flustered at how close you guys are <3

A cute thing that I would see is that later down the line he'd call in his parents to send him some of his old clothes from home as a gift to his (Y/N)~

At first, Leona thought that his clothes were being washed by Ruggie more so than usual...like they kept on disappearing and reappearing. That's when he found your scent had lingered in some of them and it clicked for ya boi.

You just gave this man an ego boost I swear

He'd deadass just buys more stuff and just oh so happen to leave them around his room for you to wear or if not (cuz Ruggie would give him an earful) he'd put them in places that's easy for you to get

He's a bit more smug than usual, "happier" if you will, knowing you're somewhere around campus, proudly showing off that you're his and vice versa ~

When you do return some of his clothes, he often spends time laying in his bed sniffing them (it's a bit weird but hey he's a beastman) It's the scent of his mixing in with yours that just well...leaves Leona in a calm state of mind. It soothes him either to yet another nap or in a better mood.

He'd be a proud and bashful boi~ <3

He first saw you wearing his school blazer and ya gotta listen to me (Y/N) Jack is yknow...JACKED so that's one baggy blazer. There's that instinct of his that makes him want to protect you more cuz you look so soft and warm in something that's his

He won't straight up say it but his tail would start wagging when he sees you wearing them either when you guys are hanging out of campus or just hanging in each other's room

Similar to Leona, Jack loves that your scent is still in his clothes once you gave them back, which makes him more determined and allowed him to focus on whatever he's doing

Next time Jack's out looking for clothes, he'd bring you along cuz he'd be the type to trust your taste since you like his attire so much (aww)

Another bf that would tease their s/o relentlessly~

I could see Jade as the type to compliment you but the type where he'd whisper them lovingly in your ear cuz he likes to see your reaction~

Would sometimes just let you borrow some of his clothes even tho he needs them at that moment. He'd have this proud smile despite being nagged by Azul for being in an incomplete uniform. "It seems I happen to have lost it~" Jade chuckled as he eyed you in the corner, casually wearing his hat

On the occasion he does need one of his clothes, he loves the chase of finding you and getting it back (I pray for you but you might be into it-)

I could see him as the kind of bf that would take pictures or fond over you from a distance. He gets a kick out of people's reaction once they found out that your clothes are actually his. entertaining and adorable. *mentally takes note to shower you in affection later~*

Out of all the guys here, he'd be one of the happiest once he found out. Like he'd run up to you and twirl you around cuz you look adorable

He's in a much more cooperative and better mood (Riddle and Azul mentally thanked you for this one) especially when you so happen to pass by him.

Even when you didn't "borrow" something from him, I see him straight up giving you one of his clothes or accessories to wear for the day. like, imagine him waking up early just to pick out what accessory of his he wants you to parade around campus~!

I see him taking pics of you wearing them as well as putting one of them as his lock screen cuz his tiny koebi-chan looks good~

Later down the line, he'd bring you on shopping dates to buy matching outfits inspired by all of this happening~ (be it the same attire or coordinating ones) Idk why but I see him taking really good or candid shots of your guys' outfits

[needle-thread-thimble-spear]

Revolutionary Girl Utena and Epistemic Violence

or

Why Anthy is not a trans girl (but she is to me)

~~

Ohtori, as any good setting tends to, carries a lot of thematic weight. It’s a fairy world, where metaphorical illusion blurs personal hopes over a poisoned interior structure, to the point where an outside perspective may struggle to distinguish between what a character is thinking and what is actually happening. Time and memory are suggestions whispered in the ear of its students, a cyclic hell where the same puppets are played in position, memories broken but dreams intact, to test new victims and forge new swords. A kingdom of nowhen, ruled from above by a king that refuses to see that the prison he built cannot ever free him. A hierarchy where the misogyny taught to children to prepare them for the grown up version is baked into the very structure of the world, belying a culture of horrible sexual violence. And at the very bottom of that hierarchy, the victim-witch, is the kings own sister. A sort of broken Omelas, where one girl must suffer forever and ever, not to end the suffering of others, but to keep them in the dark. Especially her brother. What Ohtori is, and the hierarchies that it represents both within the work and outside of it, hinges on the suffering of that girl. And, maybe more importantly, her silence.

~~

Revolutionary Girl Utena changed my life. I’ve been saying this nearly two years now, mostly as a joke, but with distance I can see it really isn’t. When you are in the depths of an abusive relationship, it is extremely difficult to see what’s happening to you. I don’t wish to dwell on my own story here too much, but how can I ignore it? RGU was the language I used to understand what had happened to me. Images from the show flit through my mind as though I were a Tamarian. Utena, in the window. Anthy, with the candelabra. Utena, her hands cut with thorns. Anthy with the white beret. After finishing the show for the first time I felt sickened. Not merely because of the subject matter depicted, raw and horrible as it is, but because I saw myself in it. Why do I feel such a kinship with Anthy?

I think, dear reader, you may be able to imagine the horror inherent to that realization. You might have felt it, you may be feeling it now.

It seemed obvious to me then, for reasons I could not begin to fathom, that Anthy was a trans girl. Reeling from my first watch, this felt like the only conclusion I could draw though I couldn’t tell you why. For years, I have drafted and redrafted essays attempting to justify this feeling. Recently, I posted an reading of Miki as a transfem character, and I don’t feel particularly strongly about that reading! Sure, aspects of his character were relatable to me, I could draw analogies well enough, but that was completely secondary to my actual goal. Practice for the transfem Anthy essay. Looking back on what I’d written now, I don’t. Hate? What I wrote. There’s definitely some aspects I’d repudiate now. If you enjoyed reading it, if it meant something to you, I’m glad. But even as I was writing it it felt incomplete and limited. And I believe I understand why.

What did I get wrong about Miki and Kozue? What lies in Ohtori’s heart? What lies in that bed of rotten rose petals?

We all know what does, but we do not want to see it and certainly don’t want to talk about it.

It’s Nanami’s disgust with Anthy, with herself. It’s Miki and Kozue’s confused but earnest posturing. It’s Utena looking up at Akio, it’s Anthy’s vacant stare.

Even here, I’m speaking in abbreviated reference. But it’s abuse, sexual, at times incestuous abuse, that touches every character in RGU.

I’d recently seen a few posts which I think hit on a really common phenomena among fans of the show. Our own stories, our own disgust, our own fears and our own traumas, sort of get in the way when we talk about RGU. I think it’s a natural consequence. RGU deals with heavy subject matter that is very difficult to sit with. I don’t think it’d be incorrect to say most western fans of RGU are queer in some way. We’re much more likely, as consequence, to suffer from interpersonal abuse. And naturally, we are drawn to these characters since they represent, with so few holds barred, some of our worst experiences. But does that make them like us?

For the record, I think it would be ridiculous to suggest that RGU isn't a queer show and that it isn't filled with queer characters. But, for as obvious a conclusion as this is, a surprising depth of that queerness is veiled in subtext. It’s worth considering, the endless arguments over whether Anthy and Utena are lesbians or bisexual, is sort of inconsequential. The important thing is that they have escaped, together! We could suppose that, were Ohtori a real place, we could go track down the two of them and demand from them an answer. How do you feel, Anthy, about your attraction to Akio? What does that mean to you? Would you please quell that horrible disgust we feel thinking about it? Inquiring readers would like to feel better know!

When one leaves Ohtori, one leaves the view of the audience. Utena and Anthy are in love with one another, but what that means to them (and themselves) is out of our reach.

And yet, I can’t seem to shake my original conclusion, from my first watch. Surely it cannot be intended! Hell, even the fact that Anthy is desi is sort of incidental to any commentary on social injustice, the motivation for depicting her (and Akio) this way was to exoticize them relative to the rest of the school. So is this image of Anthy as a brown trans girl, her position in Ohtori being a result of transmisogyny, some western myopia? Mere projection of the aggrieved self on a character who, by her nature, absorbs the feelings and impressions of those around her?

Sort of?

Revolutionary Girl Utena was created in a Japanese cultural context, to be sure, but it’s worth noting that while the precise execution of (trans)misogyny and other gender injustices may vary from culture to culture, patriarchy isn’t exactly exclusive to the west. There is a lot of different directions we could run in here, but the one I want to focus on is epistemic violence (a good primer linked here if the term is unfamiliar). *

In Ohtori, all girls are like princesses, unless they are like witches. And, sooner or later, all girls are like the rose bride, the doll-witch, the synthesis. This is how patriarchy works. There is a concept of “permissible” femininity, and an “impermissible” feminity. There is the wife, the mother, the domestic servant, who is permitted some limited social power by her utility to a patriarch (primarily as a mother to trueborn children). Then there is, well, everyone else. “Loose” women, sure, but also those who have been damaged by sexual violence. Those who cannot bear children, because of some accident of their physiology. These women are used, for feminized labor, for sex, but because of the stigma associated with them and the issues they present toward patrilineal succession, they are subject to various censure. One does not talk about survivors of sexual violence or sex workers in polite society. It is possible for some to travel between these two categories, although it is far, far easier to go from “type 1” to “type 2” than the other direction. Indeed, for some it is not possible to have ones “virtue” restored. If we aren’t being reduced to predatory inhuman monsters, trans women, both a hypersexualized object of intense fetishization and incapable of bearing children, are placed into the second category automatically. Lots of would be abusers are happy to whisper in our ears, that they will treat us like we are “type 1”, but invariably they do not.**

The most maddening thing to me about being a trans woman is this, inability for anyone to see the violence that happens to you. People don’t believe you can be the subject of (sexual) violence, even though the fact it occurs to you, regularly, should be obvious to anyone who thinks about how we are perceived for just a moment! You cannot speak up without sounding delusional, it can happen right in front of a stranger, your best friend, and they wont bat an eye. That you are so incredibly disgusting, no one would want to hurt you that way.

Anthy isn’t a trans girl. But the system that silences her, treats her like she deserves her victimization, that she is irrevocably tainted by her relationship with Akio, the system that keeps us, the audience, from internalizing the dreadful truth of her character, this veil of silence, of covered ears and closed eyes, is extant in the lives of all misbegotten gender-oppressed rejects. If we are going to draw analogies between ourselves and Anthy, or Utena, or Nanami, or any the rest of them, we need to pull back that veil. Indeed, it's confronting (and then escaping from) that choking, word-stopping bile that sits at the core of RGU's thesis. I don’t think it’s wrong for us to relate to the characters in RGU, and write about that. But we might stop to consider why before we do!

*If you’re curious to read more about patriarchy across cultures, here is a really incisive article on the phenomena of third sexing, the operation of (trans)misogyny and gendered violence in parallel across cultural contexts, and how that relates to the western and desi sphere (but also more broadly).

**It should also be noted that there can be no comparison of suffering of anyone under patriarchy. Even the most vaunted cis man, I suppose. But there can be a comparison of power, and this is why we discuss it rather than throw up our hands.

Thank you for reading, I think this is the last I'm going to write about RGU for a while, though there's quite a bit I want to say about Utena and Anthy's relationship. So someday, I'll get around to more! And a perennial thank you to @empty-movement for the high quality archival images.

[e-dubbc11]

Chocolate Kisses

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: I bet you can’t guess🤣…fluffy bunnies and unicorns, overworked Billy, maybe a swear word? I’m not sure. Alluding to smexy time 😉

Word Count: 1.5K-ish

Summary: Billy’s grouchy, he’s overworked and needs a little break. You’re hoping a little something sweet will lighten his mood.

A/N: I’m sure if you’ve been following me for awhile, you know one of my Billy headcanons is that he has a massive sweet tooth. This little idea popped into my head, figured I’d run with it. I hope you like it 🩵

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Inside his home office, with his head buried deep in paperwork, Billy groaned and grumbled periodically as he carefully thumbed through the papers on his desk. Glancing from the printed pages to the computer screens, he narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow. He was hard at work as always.

The office lights were dim and the warm glow from the desk lamp was easier on his eyes compared to the monitors he constantly stared at for hours on end. The work was just never finished sometimes, it followed him home, and Billy could never leave his work incomplete or what HE felt was incomplete.

That was the perfectionist in him.

The work kept coming in and he was always very busy but he loved it. He loved working, running his own company, and he was proud of the work he was doing. Billy wanted to have a purpose in life after being in the marines and with all of his hard work, life presented him with a great opportunity for himself and for others.

But sometimes you wanted him to slow down and enjoy the little things. You knew Billy had been working hard all day and mentioned he had more to do even after he came home for the evening so as a surprise, you strategically placed a piece of his favorite candy in the top center drawer of his desk. He never could resist those dark chocolate squares with the creamy caramel and a hint of sea salt inside. They were one of his favorites and you couldn’t wait for him to find it.

You could tell how busy he was just by how he answered the phone this afternoon. The tone of his voice was sharp, he gave you short one word responses, which led to a very quick apology when he realized he was taking his frustration out on you.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, sweet girl. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Billy had said, gently. “Seems like everyone wants an answer from me at the same time, I’m just swamped.”

One corner of your mouth turned up into a half smile and you forgave him immediately. When you’re constantly bombarded with questions that demand answers, it wears on you, and you could only take so much.

You appreciated that Billy recognized he was taking his anger out on you because he didn’t always stop to think about how he was acting. Through trial and error, sometimes he had to learn the hard way about what it means to be in an actual relationship.

“I love you Billy Russo but don’t you dare take your bad day out on me.” You had to tell him on more than one occasion.

Up until he met you, Billy had lived his life the only way he knew how. He had always been in a constant state of survival mode, not knowing what it was like to be cared for and loved by anyone but you were patient with him and he learned quickly but still, he wasn’t perfect. And you didn’t expect him to be but he did need reminders to sneak in some play along with the work.

He continued to growl over the papers on his desk while you crept into his office to put some of your books away when you heard him open the center drawer to his desk. Biting back a smile, you could hear the noise the shiny blue foil paper made while in between his long agile fingers and the slight chuckle that escaped his lips.

You heard the sound of a pen fall onto a stack of papers as he reached for the other side of chocolate wrapper and out of the corner of your eye, you could see the childlike smile stretch across Billy’s lips as he removed the chocolate from its package.

He had finally taken a minute to breathe.

Just from one little square of chocolate, you watched the stress of Billy’s day float away as soon as he took that first bite. Growing up, he was lucky if he even got cheap penny candy at the group home let alone decadent dark chocolate. He savored every bite, tasted every note of that bittersweet chocolate and smooth buttery caramel.

Billy knew what it was like to have nothing. It was why he took such good care of everything he had now…his penthouse, his company, and…you. He knew it could all be taken away just as quickly as he acquired it and his delicious chocolate was no different.

“Was that from you, sweet girl?” Billy asked rhetorically with a wide Cheshire cat smile.

You loved to see the laugh lines around his beautiful onyx colored eyes every time he smiled at you. Nothing made you happier than to see Billy Russo smile.

Gripping your book tightly across your chest and still biting down on your lower lip, you nodded.

“Mmm hmm.” You finally replied. “You seemed like you were having a tough day. I thought it would be a nice surprise.”

Billy pushed back away from his desk, tasted the chocolate that remained on his thumb, and slowly walked over to you. His hands cupped your cheeks as he tilted your face up so he could look into your eyes before his lips collided with yours.

The taste of rich cocoa was still fresh on his tongue and the essence of sweet burnt sugar on his lips left you wanting to do nothing BUT taste him over and over again.

“It was a very nice surprise, my love. But chocolate or no chocolate, my day is always better when I come home to you.” Billy purred into your ear.

Warmth rushed to your cheeks as butterflies danced around in your stomach. His words made your heart flutter as he quickly pulled you into his chest, stroked your hair with his long nimble fingers, and told you over and over again how much he loved you.

“You always know when I need a break don’t you, y/n.” He said with a warm smile.

After putting your last book away, you snaked your arms around Billy’s neck and pulled his face close so his forehead was touching yours.

“Well Billy…you can be a little bit of a grouch when you’ve done nothing but work for 14 plus hours.” You replied, looking up at him through your long dark lashes.

“You think I work too much, baby?” Billy asked in a serious tone.

You started to nervously play with the buttons on his shirt, the fabric felt cool on the tips of your fingers and when you placed your hand against his chest, you could feel the rapid beating of his heart and all you had wanted to do was to put his fears to rest.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, Billy. I just want you to take more breaks, that’s all.” You said in barely more than a whisper and with your eyes locked on his. “Besides…I know you can’t say no to sweets.”

Billy let out a slight chuckle. It made him love you even more because you could make him laugh and the sound of his laughter was music to your ears.

“You know me too well, beautiful. I promise to take more breaks. Now, ya don’t happen to have any more of that chocolate, do ya?” He asked as he licked his bottom lip.

Something about the way he asked for more, the velvet tone to his voice was so smooth and sexy, and his New York accent turned you on no matter what he was talking about.

You traced one finger along his jawline then turned and started to walk away from him toward the office door before your replied, “Tell ya what, lieutenant…if you can catch me, you can have another piece.”

“Are we still talking about chocolate, sweet girl?” Billy asked with a devilish smile.

Looking back over your shoulder, you replied, “Catch me and find out, Mr. Russo.”

And you took off running out of the office with Billy following close behind. He was too fast so he caught you easily, tossed you over his shoulder and headed for the bedroom.

“BILLY! Put me down! You can have all the chocolate you want!” You said in between laughs.

Billy gently smacked you on the ass before he replied, “Oh I will my love, but first I’m in the mood for something else that tastes even sweeter than chocolate.”

He loved all things sweet…especially you.

There was something so innocent and pure about the way he reacted to something as small as a piece of chocolate or the toy army man you gave him for his desk to the grander gestures of telling him “I love you” and finding him a first edition of The Picture of Dorian Gray. He loved them all the same.

He treasured them, and kept them as close as he possibly could because they all came from someone who wanted him, who loved him more than anything, and who would never ever leave him.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @ittybxttykxttytxtty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso @russosafehaven

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 沙海/Tomb of the Sea/Sand Sea.

Sand Sea is the 2018 installment of the DMBJ/Lost Tomb franchise, which tells the story of the search for an ancient desert city, a fight against a secretive assassin family, the raiding of more than a couple tombs, and a whole bunch of other action-packed bullshit.

Have you ever watched an anime adaptation that outran the as-yet-incomplete manga it was adapting, necessitating it throw together a largely befuddling ending based on the available clues? That's Sand Sea. At time of production, only ~75% of the Sand Sea novel had been written. As I am making this post, that's still all of the Sand Sea novel that has been written. I finished watching the show and had a lot of questions about its loose ends. I read the book. It didn't help.

So, I'm not going to try and summarize the story, much less try to sell you on the show on the strength of the plot. What I am going to try and do is convince you it's a good time anyway.

As I mentioned earlier, it's part of a larger franchise, but you shouldn't let that stop you from diving in here. Most of the DMBJ shows and books are narrated by Wu Xie, the series' special little birthday boy. Sand Sea takes a different tack -- your main POV characters are completely new to the world of the tombs, meaning that the show explains things to you while it's explaining things to them. Wu Xie's still a major character, but you're seeing him through the eyes of a befuddled teenager who wasn't even supposed to be here today.

I'm going to give you five reasons to watch this series, and all five of them are relationships. I'm pitching it to you this way because, as was the case in my rec for Reunion (one of the other tomb-raiding dramas), I'm assuming you have zero familiarity with DMBJ, which means that any appeals to the larger franchise or its twists and turns will have no impact. Instead, I am here to sell this to you on the strength of character interactions. If you're interested in what the characters are doing, the plot will come.

1. Dudes Rock

The aforementioned teenager narrator is Li Cu, a too-cool-for-school underachiever who lives with his abusive father and has no direction in life. He comes with his two best (and only) friends: earnest pushover Su Wan and neighborhood bully Yang Hao.

They're a trio of problem children who cannot succeed by the metrics of society at large: Li Cu and Yang Hao are both from family circumstances that have hampered their ability to perform academically, while Su Wan, bless his heart, is just not that bright. They do, however, all do well when put in situations that play to their strengths and given appropriate mentorship. (Alas that all of their mentors are terrible people; see point 4.)

They're set up as an intentional next-generation parallel to the Iron Triangle, which is the term DMBJ uses for Wu Xie and his two closest people. Normally, the Iron Triangle would be the core of a DMBJ story -- but since that threesome is broken by Circumstances at the moment, these boys become the substitute triad whose friendship is one of the main bonds holding the narrative together.

They have such teenage boy dynamics, it's great. They're stupid about girls and alcohol and money and homework and all the other things teen boys are stupid about, while also being stupid enough to get themselves entangled in shadowy international conspiracies. Huge parts of the plot are fueled entirely by their dumbass decisions. But they also barely have any competent adult supervision in their lives, so you know, when you're seventeen and basically feral, renting a warehouse so you can beat a bunch of frozen snakes to death actually sounds like a good solution to the problem at the time.

It's not all comedy, though. Li Cu and Yang Hao in particular are deeply traumatized young men even before the story starts, and events of the series make it worse. They're definitely the "feelings are for girls!" type of young men, and they need Su Wan there as their eternally bippy buffer. When he's not, they can get mean.

What's also charming about this trio is that they're all pretty darn straight. In a franchise chock full of (unintentional?) homoeroticism, these three manage to keep their platonic dude dynamics pretty platonic. I mean, I myself come at most things with slash-colored glasses on, and even I'm of the opinon that they're befuddled heterosexuals struggling with how the entire tomb-raiding industry's gay. And even if you assume everyone in this entire show is straight, these boys are still going to get a bunch of real-time lessons in how to love other people, whether they like it or not!

So if you like a Teen Boy Squad of goobers who don't want to admit they're close or have emotions or anything like that, right up until they're all each other have, this may be just the thing for you.

2. The Only Good Het in the Tombs

DMBJ is not known for its high-quality heterosexual romance, to put it mildly. Most of the time, it makes the smart decision to not even try. When it does, you mostly wish it hadn't.

Therefore, you cannot imagine how shocked I was to find myself falling head-over-heels for the incredibly weird canonical love story between horny hot mess Dr. Liang Wan and emotionally constipated 80-year-old virgin and arsonist Zhang Rishan.

Their relationship goes a little something like this: He needs something from her, so he contrives a plan to ask her out. She declares him her boyfriend. He continues the relationship in order to continue getting things from her. She thinks he's hot, so she's fine with that. He warns her that continuing their relationship will involve messing with some very bad members of the Tomb-Raiding Industrial Complex. She's like, again, you're incredibly hot, so that's not a problem. He makes her memorize maps and sends her to a desert. She dresses up like him and pepper-sprays him. And somewhere in the midst of all that, he falls for her and she gets sick of his shit, and they wind up for-real dating as equals.

Part of what's so delightful about their relationship is how awful they are to one another. It'd be bad if that awfulness were one-sided, but man, they each give as good as they get. He's heartless and exploitative, and she's neurotic and insecure. She makes constant demands of him that he's almost too confused by to refuse, and he keeps putting her in situations no sane person should want to be part of. He comes from a cutthroat world of complete bastards, while she wears her heart on her sleeve whether she wants to or not. They're extremely good for one another, because he trusts her competencies and is going to make her demonstrate every one of them, while one of her chief skills is calling him on his bullshit.

It is at this point I need to sing the praises of Liang Wan, hottest of the hot messes. She's one of the principal POV characters for the novel, where she's just as boy-crazy (though for a different boy, because Zhang Rishan's not in this book) and just as far in over her head. The adaptation has absolutely done her character justice. What makes Liang Wan so charming to me is how much she absolutely refuses to let herself be stopped by being completely out of her depth. She doesn't know what the hell is going on most of the time, but fuck it, she's rolling with it. She's just also going to be applying moisturizer and anti-aging serum the entire time, because you know what, sometimes when your whole world is falling apart around you, the one thing you can count on is your skincare routine.

Zhang Rishan is surrounded by people so cool, butter doesn't melt in their mouths. He can be balls-out naked in front of them without batting an eyelash. It is her thirsty disaster charms alone that have set fire to his frozen heart. I love them to bits.

3. Enemies to ... ???

This is Sand Sea's Wu Xie. You're not going to like him at first, because he spends the first several episodes tormenting a teen who only mildly seems to deserve it. What you find out as the show goes on is that Wu Xie is having a bad time -- more than that, he's having a straight-up bad decade. He has taken a lot of psychic damage and decided to cope with it by being absolutely insane. He's a bitch with no sense of self-preservation living in constant gremlin mode. He is no longer under the active supervision of his husbands, and he's going to make that everyone else's problem.

The show chooses to start out by inflicting Wu Xie on a bunch of strangers through an arc that's bizarre, lengthy, and mostly completely unrelated to the larger plot. It does introduce a few elements that will matter, though, and one of them is Su Nan.

When Su Nan appeared as the badass head of a mercenary outfit, I was braced for one (or both) of two things to happen. Thing one, I figured she'd die or otherwise leave the narrative after the first arc, which made me not want to get attached to her, if she wasn't going to stick around. Thing two, I was all but certain the show was going to try and make her Wu Xie's love interest, which made me make such a face, because [see last point].

Neither happens. Su Nan is still around in the final episode, and what she becomes to Wu Xie is much, much more interesting.

They're not friends. They're never friends. They can't be friends, because they absolutely can't trust one another. Except sometimes they have to trust one another, and in return they have to allow themselves to be trustworthy.

In the last relevant chapter or so of the novel, Wu Xie gets his throat cut and shoved off a cliff ... and because the novel isn't finished, we have no idea why that happened or who did it. The drama decides that when he goes over that cliff this time, throat unslit, Su Nan needs to go with him. This means they spend much of the later part of the series depending on one another for survival, getting real vulnerable, sharing trauma, and occasionally fucking one another over anyway, because they are both bad and untrustworthy people.

And they're ... kinda into one another? But because it's not textual, it winds up being great. If the show had tried to write their romance, I would have hated it. Instead, it chooses to leave things fraught and unspecified, with the two of them obviously having a lot of feelings but not even knowing themselves what all those feelings are, much less how to react appropriately to them. That is delicious. Pour that right into my mouth.

I also choose to interpret Su Nan as being transfemme (complimentary), if only because that's the most charitable explanation for her dedication to keeping her tits out and her lipstick game sharp even in wilderness conditions.

4. This Man Should Not Be Trusted With Children

As I mentioned before, all members of the Teen Boy Squad wind up paired with adult men who act as their mentors. Li Cu and Wu Xie are the main duo, since they're the main character of this show and the main character of the entire franchise, respectively. Yang Hao winds up in an even more abusive dynamic with a bitch of a man who takes advantage of Yang Hao's capacity for rage. But precious baby Su Wan is lucky enough to be adopted by, well...

If you read my rec for Reunion, you will recognize him as the guy I called "this giant fucking loser" with all the affection in the world. Hei Xiazi is both the worst and the best, which makes him the perfect man to take care of the tender soul that is Su Wan.

Su Wan's a poor little rich boy who is happy to be bullied by his friends, because it means he has friends! He's a dipshit because he's sheltered by his family wealth, and he's also a dipshit because he'd be a dipshit no matter how much money he had. He needs someone to kick his ass in a way that builds him back up again and helps him make the transition from doormat to functional adult.

The circumstances that bring these two together are so batshit, they're not worth recounting here. Suffice it to say that as one adventure arc ends, Hei Xiazi is tasked with taking Su Wan home. Su Wan expresses interest in whatever Hei Xiazi's whole deal is, and Hei Xiazi responds by offering (in a roundabout way) lessons in what exactly his whole deal is.

Hei Xiazi is a terrible teacher, but he's a perfect teacher for Su Wan, who is the kind of boy who would go find the nearest dictionary if you told him the word "gullible" wasn't there. They're preciously weird at one another. The work so well together because Su Wan believes the best of everything, which leads him to see right past the parts of Hei Xiazi that other people (correctly) find inscrutable and offputting. With Hei Xiazi's questionable guidance, Su Wan finds for the first time in his naive, privileged life a goal for himself that is both achievable and worth the effort.

Later books give evidence that all three of the boys eventually go to work for Hei Xiazi, which I think is great, especially since he is somehow the least toxic and terrible of all the mentor characters. ...Man, though, that bar is low. It's a miracle anyone in DMBJ survives into adulthood.

It's also cute to think about how the boys are no doubt context-appropriately homophobic, because it's so easy to picture their respective reactions to finding out that their strong, terrible male role models are queer. Cue Li Ci and Yang Hao's respective no-homo freakouts, while Su Wan just has a million slightly offensive but ultimately well-meaning questions about how bisexuality works.

And I'm just going to say, if you watched the Untamed and loved Xue Yang? You owe it to yourself to see that actor suddenly become the sweetest little butterscotch muffin ever. ...Yes, if you didn't recognize him earlier, that's Wang Haoxuan, and he turns in an incredible comic performance here. Su Wan is consistently one of the funniest characters onscreen. The bit with the saxaphone kills me dead.

Anyway, unlike the first three relationships I've talked about here, this is one you have to wait a good long while for. Su Wan shows up in the first episode, Hei Xiazi appears about a dozen or so episodes later, but it takes their storylines much longer to cross. It's worth the wait, though, knowing that eventually you'll get to see these two weirdos bounce merrily off one another.

5. Everybody Loves Pangzi

This is the Iron Triangle I mentioned earlier. Obviously there's Wu Xie in the middle. The perfect boy in the hoodie is Xiao Ge, who is at the time of this series slightly stuck in what's basically a giant time-lock safe, so you're only ever going to see him in flashbacks. (Xiao Ge is trapped, so you can't have Xiao Ge.) And then, over there on the left is the man whose nickname translates to "fatty," Wang Pangzi.

Hold on to your butts, because I am now going to wax poetic about how much I love this fictional man.

Pangzi is the best. The best. He's funny. He's kind. He's got terrible taste in men and only slightly less terrible taste in women. He's a gentleman. He's the party shock absorber. He's prone to making things explode. He's impeccably dressed. He's charmingly superstitious. He's not subtle. He's got an excitable little stammer and an atrocious Beijing accent. He's a flexible fat man. He's the most fuckable person onscreen no matter who's onscreen with him.

He's also usually the DMBJ everyman character, except Sand Sea has a ton of everyman characters for a change, so he winds up filling the role of a badass insider instead. His job is basically to hold down the fort while Xiao Ge's indisposed and Wu Xie's off being insane. In the absence of both his beloveds, Pangzi's going to do what needs to be done, and he's going to be incredibly hot while he's doing it.

Usually, DMBJ shows serve up a huge amount of Pangzi and Wu Xie interaction. Sand Sea only puts them in the same room near the very end -- but they're collaborating throughout. In fact, the only way the whole story works is if they're basically so much in each other's back pockets that they can function as a single unit even across great distances. The record will show that I read them as husbands -- but more importantly, they're good friends who understand and trust one another completely. As much as it pains me that they're apart for basically the entire thing, they're never really apart, you know?

However, because Wu Xie is physically elsewhere for so much of the show, Sand Sea provides a unique chance to see Pangzi interacting on his own with other characters. Wu Xie is the special little boy who always takes up all the oxygen in the room -- and of course Pangzi doesn't begrudge him this, because Pangzi loves him. Without Wu Xie around, though, we get to watch all the other relationships Pangzi has cultivated over the years.

One of the best is with Xie Yuchen, a.k.a. Xiao Hua. In other series, we see the two interact, but only in the context of having Wu Xie around. Sand Sea presents us with a little window into what is clearly a longstanding friendship. From the tiny bit we get of their interactions, it's obvious they hang out on a pretty regular basis. They're chilling and having spa dates while their husbands are out there getting sandy and fighting snakes, proving that these two urbanites are absolutely the brains of their respective marriages.

...Hold up a second,

I hear you say,

IS this show actually gay? Because you keep using words like "husbands" and talking like it's intentionally, onscreen, boys-kissing-boys gay.

On the one hand, no.

On the other hand: Is Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid gay? Textually, taking it at face value, and especially considering the context in which it was made, no, it is absolutely not gay, nor was it meant to be gay. But when you step back and realize everything it's doing, you kind of can't avoid the really romantic implications. Maybe Butch and Sundance never smooch, maybe they don't even want to, but they're each other's other halves. We would instantly recognize what they are if one of them were a lady. In a narrative setting where gayness is unthinkable, nothing they can do can be gay, which loops around to making everything kinda gay, and ... look, I'm just saying, if Pangzi were a woman, we'd know immediately what she is to Wu Xie (and holy fuck she would be so hot). If Xiao Hua were as female as the opera characters he plays, we'd have no questions about her relationship to Hei Xiazi. Keep everything beat for beat, line for line the same, and there'd be no missing it.

This is something you get a lot with stories about men written by men, this unintentional homoeroticism from male authors who don't realize their misogyny has actually poisoned them against heterosexuality. Remember what I said earlier about DMBJ's regrettable het? So much of it stems from the assumption that getting a girl and a boy together will inevitably to romantic feelings from at least one of them, so there's no reason to bother spending time giving either of the participants any actual reasons to like one another. (Sand Sea does this too! Just with a character I haven't mentioned here, because I'm trying to talk about the good dynamics.) This kind of thinking treats women not as people, but as as basically interchangeable desirable objects. But men are people, which means the male characters' feelings are worth discussing in the narrative! So what you get is these well-developed, intimate relationships between men described in loving detail, sat right next to perfunctory heterosexual couplings -- and we're supposed to believe that one is romantic and one is not based solely on the genders of the participants? Yeah, no, I call bullshit.

And -- if you'll permit me to loop back to the boys for a minute -- we now have a model for how a straight Iron Triangle would behave, and it is not the way the actual Iron Triangle members are about one another. Those teens love one another in a way that is fierce and strong and not what Wu Xie, Pangzi, and Xiao Ge have going. Maybe it could become that, but it's not now. It's not better or worse now for being what it is, but it is different, and it makes by contrast some things very clear (and very queer).

So that is why I feel justified in referring to them as husbands and will continue to do so despite the lack of explicit textual support.

Anyway, back to Pangzi!

Where were we? Right, Xiuxiu!

Pangzi's always at his best when he gets to be a knight for someone he cares about. This time around, that's Huo Xiuxiu, who who only shows up after you've met several of her matriarchal family's other members, all of whom would be at home in a Tank Full Of Dangerous Ladies. Xiuxiu is not a fighter like they are, but she does have an object that means everyone's out to get her, and as such she relies on her Pangzi to keep her safe while she's trying to survive the fucked-up games her family is playing.

And Pangzi clearly loves it. He absolutely thrives on being the big brother/bruiser figure for her. He loves how cool it makes him look to her. He doesn't have Wu Xie around to be a tank for, so he's going to tank for her. In fact, he's even going to bring in reinforcements to help him do it. (What's the deal with the cute Tibetan boy? Look, shh, just appreciate that you've got a cute Tibetan boy.)

Then there's his dealings with the rest of the Tomb-Raiding Industrial Complex, who are a bunch of shady dudes with impressive family pedigrees and expensive suits, all of whom are trying to play twelve-dimensional chess with one another. There's going to be lots of names dropped, of families and of individuals, and the show is going to act like you're supposed to be impressed. And if you're familiar with DMBJ canon, yeah, you could be impressed! Or you could be like Pangzhi, who rolls up in his amazing Holstein shirt, not giving a single fuck what any of these rich bastards think about him.

This is actually some character development for Pangzi, who has in the past been cowed (pun unintended) by the wealthy, mostly due to his own financial situation. That stage of his life is over now. Honey badger has ceased to care. The cool, pretty people are going to try and give him shit, and he is impervious to it. You better believe the Iron Triangle trashed this fancy restaurant the last time they were in here, and if you give Pangzi half the chance, he'll fucking do it again.

No wonder Zhang Rishan likes him. A pair of little firestarters.

Don't let me oversell you on how much Pangzi is in Sand Sea, because he's not. There's maybe a dozen of the 52 episodes that have any Pangzi content, and he's only in small parts of those episodes. Pangzi is a rare and precious event, like an eclipse. Cherish the Pangzi moments and all the wonderful interactions contained within.

caveat: You call that an ending?

Buddy, if you'd seen how most other DMBJ series end, you wouldn't be asking me that. But because I'm assuming you haven't: Yes, I call that an ending, because it actually attempts to do a winddown and conclusion, instead of just wandering off on a cliffhanger. The ending isn't wholly satisfying, but it is an ending. There is a narrative, and that narrative concludes. Does the conclusion make sense and tie up all the loose ends? Absolutely not! But it does follow basic story structure and resolve the action semi-competently.

As I said about the sweet disaster that is Psych Hunter (which was also directed by the guy who did Sand Sea!), I think knowing in advance that an ending sucks makes the ending suck less. It removes the disappointment factor and lets you enjoy what is there, instead of making you grumpy about what isn't. No, you're never going to understand a lot of things. That means whatever you want to be true can be true. The book is unfinished. The series is nonsense. Canon has no hold on you. You are free.

As compensation, here's a picture of Xiao Ge without his shirt on.

Are you feeling like it's Tomb Time?

There are a couple places you can get this one! Try Viki, WeTV, this YouTube playlist (which is missing the first episode for some reason), or this YouTube playlist (which has the whole thing). Note that subtitles vary in quality from place to place. The YouTube versions also have the bizarre, amazing in-character commercials, and it's up to you if that's a plus or a minus for your viewing experience.

I love this bonkers show. It is balls-to-the-wall weird, to a point that will make you question the translation. I got to the part where Zhang Rishan explains that ancient people worshipped fish with snakes in their eyebrows, caught the fish, took out the snakes, and implanted the snakes in their own human eyebrows -- and I thought, surely that's not what he's actually saying. Nope! The subtitles are accurate. It's the show that's off its rocker.

Anyway, once you've watched Sand Sea, scroll down to the bottom of my rec post for Reunion and find out how you can get even deeper into said tombs! Trust me, there's a lot down here.

As those other posts would indicate, this would not be my first choice for how to get into DMBJ. It is, however, how a fair number of people have gotten into DMBJ, so what the hell do I know! Or maybe this post has convinced you that Sand Sea is worth watching, but you'd rather build up to it than go into it raw. That works too! Whenever you get to it, it'll be here: under a bunch of sand, tattooed and inexplicable, and extremely gay whether it knows it or not.

Go to the desert, they said. Find Gutongjing, they said. Solve the mystery, they said. Fuck it, we nap.

[elfven-blog]

What if ... Leon was dating a tarot reader? And he always makes jokes like "if she reads this on the cards I'm screwed" And he pretends he doesn't care (but he's actually scared to death when the reader reads the cards to him)

Hi anon! I hope you enjoy!! 💕

The past, the present and the future

Leon Kennedy X Reader Word count:787

You rolled your eyes, shuffling the deck in your hand as you listened to Leon make yet another quip “Should I be worried? Don’t use them to check up on me” His brows were raised but the grin on his face was enough to let you know he was only messing. But the shake of his leg told another story, his knee bouncing up and down as he cracked another joke, this one about the devil card. You only shook your head.

After finishing the deck shuffle, you placed the cards down on the table. In a three-card spread, Leon had finally agreed to have you give him a reading. Something simple he said, no weird questions or anything like that. So, he decided to go with what he knows best. Bioterrorism.

“You ready, honey?” You didn’t want to push him into something he didn’t want to do but it could be a fun little moment, and it’s not like he had to listen to them. It’s not like he really believed what the cards said, and this was perfect practice for you anyway. You were sick of asking yourself questions, it was nice to do a reading for someone else. Leon nodded, you could have sworn you heard the man gulp and watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

As you turned the first card over, the past, you watched Leons brow furrow as he looked at the card. His voice tilted with confusion “A building?” His head leant to the side as he moved his attention back to your face.

“The tower. Upright like this means disaster, broken pride” Leon nodded slowly, he felt his mouth go dry and his mind wondered back to that dark night so many years ago. He could almost feel the rain soaking through his uniform, the bandages sticking to the blood on his skin…the stench of rotting bodies all over again. Your soft voice pulls him out of those thoughts “Hey, its okay, we can stop” your hand is gentle on his as you lean across the table. His moves to cover yours before he presses a kiss to your fingers.

“No no, I’m kind of excited…Wanna see what my future holds according the spooky forces beyond” you can tell the way his voice has lowered and the non-existent spark that’s been wiped from his eyes that he’s a little worried. He wasn’t expecting it to be so accurate. Definitely wasn’t expecting a Raccoon City Incident cameo from the cards.

But with his go ahead you moved on to the ‘present’ card, flipping it over to show the word reversed” This time you tilted your own head, this made sense. Even know after so many years, and with Leon having moved on to start a relationship with you, there was still part of him that felt like some things weren’t resolved. “World reversed, incompletion and no closure”.

Leon felt his body tense, the cards were getting too close for comfort for his liking. He didn’t understand how they could be so accurate. The jokes and quips dying on his tongue as his mind raced. “Well, if this is how its going, I think I’ve got a bleak future” the joke was weak and you could tell he was starting to panic. He shifted in his seat, hands wiping the sweat onto his jeans as he watched you flip the last card over.

“Oh my god, am I gonna die?” You couldn’t help yourself, a short laugh left your mouth and Leon looked at you with wide eyes, his mouth gaping open. You shook your head trying to collect your composure as Leon stared at you in shock.

When you finally stopped laughing and could get more than a few words out you explained to him “No, the card of death doesn’t mean that you’re gonna die. It’s good actually, in the upright position it stands for new beginnings and changes” Your hand squeezed his own, and you leant forward to press a kiss to his cheek.

 Leon let a breath of relief, his forehead falling onto your shoulder. His arms moved around your waist, and he hoisted you over the table and settled you into his lap. His face still buried into your neck as he pressed a few kisses to the pulse point there. “I like that one…a new beginning with my sweet tarot partner” You could feel the heat of his breath against your skin “But never do a reading for me again”.

Another laugh left you, your hands running through his hair “Okay, my love, no more readings for the big strong government agent” This time it was your turn to tease him.

[monbons]

WIP Wednesday

So, I thought I was done with The Boy Next Door. I'd finished drafting and had mostly finished revising all 12 chapters. Then, as I re-read the ending the other day, I realized I actually sort of hated it. So, I made the hard call to scrap huge portions of my last two chapters and rewrite.

I've never started posting something before it's done-done, even though I know that's pretty standard practice around here. I also have a nine chapter runway currently, which should be sufficient, but the incompleteness is still making me anxious. As a result, I've been working hard to crank out words and truly finish these last few days.

Chapter 2 goes up Friday and we officially meet Baz. Although it is the shortest chapter of the whole fic, I did manage to find a bit that I could share. Find it and tags under the cut.

A cab has pulled up next door and a chubby girl with bright purple hair steps out. She’s followed by a lanky boy sporting a jean jacket covered in pins. They stand around on the sidewalk chatting for only a moment before the new boy next door tumbles out. He’s left his door wide-open and the light from inside spills out into the night, casting a long rectangular beam after him, like he’s an alien creature arriving on Earth for the first time. He rushes towards his two friends and hugs them. No, that’s not accurate. He crashes into them, curls bouncing and arms everywhere, a broad smile on his golden face.  I shut the drapes.  Anytime Golden Boy is outside he stares.

Landing the plane is always the hardest part. Wish me luck as I tear my hair out about it. Or, better yet, go read the fic and yell at me in the comments.

Hellos and high-fives! @thewholelemon, @raenestee, @cutestkilla, @bookish-bogwitch, @roomwithanopenfire

@iamamythologicalcreature, @emeryhall, @mooncello, @hushed-chorus, @rimeswithpurple

@artsyunderstudy, @aristocratic-otter, @arthurkko, @best--dress, @brilla-brilla-estrellita

@run-for-chamo-miles, @supercutedinosaurs, @whatevertheweather, @talentpiper11, @larkral

@shrekgogurt, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold, @blackberrysummerblog, @messofthejess

@drowninginships, @valeffelees, @orange-peony, @facewithoutheart, @alexalexinii

@ic3-que3n, @skeedelvee, @fiend-for-culture, @beastmonstertitan, @melodysmash

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@ileadacharmedlife, @theimpossibledemon, @letraspal, @rbkzz

[poisonousquinzel]

It's not surprising that Batman: Gotham Adventures #43 is one of the BTAS comics that I really appreciate, I will always love a good Working With Bats plot, but I wanna talk about the background they gave for the "Villain" that includes Harleen. I've found that while Harley definitely gets mischaracterized a lot ((looking at you Amanda Conner and Jimmy Palmiotti))

Harleen is rarely written well and in character.

The actual "Harleen" comic is an outlier and I appreciate how it handles their sessions, Joker's manipulation and her fall is shown outright. There is no doubt that this is not a Love Story, and the followup bits that the creator has posted over the years lays out the relationship and Harley's mindset. It's a good read before "Harleen: Red" [Harley Quinn: Black + White + Red #1]

So, I wanted to talk about the issue with how she's written in this specific plot line.

"Wha..."

"Hello, Doctor Quinzel. Remember me?"

"How could I forget? Heh...So...Whatcha been up to?"

"Studying you. Plotting, planning...All those times we were locked up in Arkham together. You, of course, going in and out while I stayed...and stayed...and stayed...

You never even glanced in my direction. And you never stopped talking. It was so easy to find out all your plans, your secret hideouts. I've thought about nothing but getting revenge on you."

"Hey, give a girl a break, willya! It was my first day on the job!"

"It wasn't just your first day! You saw me every day for weeks! I kept saying I was innocent! But you didn't listen to a word I said--All you wanted to talk about was The Joker!"

"You say that like it's a bad thing! Who wouldn't want to talk about him all day long? He's dreamy! Besides, everyone in there says they're innocent. Heh...I should know..."

"That's exactly what I mean! You ignored me, kept me locked up in there...All because you had a crush on some sick lunatic!"

Harley hasn't appeared more than maybe 10 times in comics at this point, her origin is an episode itself. Having part of her background so egregiously mistold is absolutely beyond me.

It feels as if the creators were forbidden from reading previous material I stg 😭

Truly, it's not that hard, it's one comic. Why would you include something tied to Harleen and then not bother to read the origin comic where we see her.

It wouldn't even be that hard to keep it aligned with what we'd already been shown.

Have it so Miss Smith was in there during her first few weeks of having him as a patient, when she started her sessions with Joker.

While at first she had hope that Dr. Quinzel was going to help her and get the situation sorted out, and at first it did seem that way, but... something...changed in the doctor during the weeks that followed.

then in the days right before Harleen was to finish the paperwork that'd sign off on her release, Joker escaped and he got recaptured by Batman after a couple days. He got brought back like this.

And it caused something to crack in Dr. Quinzel.

The paperwork went onto sit unfinished and unsubmitted on the former desk of a now wanted criminal accomplice. When she gets reassigned, she hopes things will be able to go quickly since Dr. Quinzel had been seeing her and logged her info, but goes on to find that a lot of her latter entries were incomplete. The hand copies of her notes had been confiscated as evidence or destroyed during the events of her break in.

Hell, even just have it so when Harleen was frantic in her rush back to her office after they took Joker to the hospital ward

in her haste to get her car keys, she knocked over the now cold cup of coffee from that morning and didn't care that it spilled over her desk & papers because Dr. Quinzel was never going to step foot inside these walls again.

Because this plot line taking place during her first few weeks at Arkham is plainly just impossible. With the way Harleen is written, it's apparent she's already falling.

But it took 3 months until she was able to have a session with Joker. Am I supposed to believe that Harleen, from the very start, was a lovesick fan and was so open about it that it would have became common knowledge within Arkham? Something she talks to patients about??

"It took nearly three months of pleading before Dr. Leland finally gave in and let me do a session with The Joker.

She told me he was an animal, plain and simple. A fiend who enjoyed twisting the minds of those stupid enough to trust him.

I was determined not to be taken unaware, and studied up on all his jokes, tricks and gimmicks."

That's three months of her reputation, her first impression, being formed into "Kinda Real Lovesick For The Joker".

That would get back to Dr. Leland. There's no way in hell she'd ever have approved of sessions between them if she didn't have faith in Harleen's abilities as a psychiatrist and her passion for helping the patients.

I doubt Harleen would have kept her job longer than a few weeks, frankly, if she was like she's written here. Because that's a liability??? It would be beyond careless for Dr. Leland to have not fired her immediately upon finding out she was so enamored and in love with one of the most dangerous people in there.

Cause there's a chance she'll break him out,,,,, like she did.

-

Also, as a bit of a side note:

"All those times we were locked up in Arkham together. You, of course, going in and out while I stayed...and stayed...and stayed..."

This comic is after this & this, Harley has broken out certainly, but she has also been released.

If someone with a record like her can be rehabilitated, then why the fuck was this poor woman still in there?

It's mistaken identity with a ridiculously common first & last name. It's a criminal who is going "back" to Arkham.

So why in the years she "I stayed...and stayed...and stayed..." not include basic patient identification? Like finger prints? a headshot picture? a description of what the woman they're looking for looks like?

It's been years, why would this woman be ignored and left to rot in there? This comic isn't even trying to make Arkham out to be horrendously incompetent.

But that's how it is???

What possible crime could the woman they're looking for have committed to justify this? To justify them, seemingly, overlooking her solely because the original psychiatrist [who left in an outlandish way] did not sign off that she needed to be released?

It says that she was stopped for speeding and taken back to Arkham for that. Why on earth would someone be taken to Arkham Asylum for a fucking speeding ticket?

If the Criminal Jenny Smith is a bad enough dangerous criminal that it warrants an immediate arrest and incarceration, then it's outright neglectful for there to be such a lack of fucking documentation about her!??? Like a basic description? Or photo? Or finger prints at least??

Its said she's released because they caught the real Jenny Smith, so they had to have had something to go on besides the damned name?? To prove that this was the real one they'd actually previously had in Arkham and that it was a mix-up.

-

uhhhhh so anyway <333 just an example of the inconsistency with Harleen's characterization that I noticed and wanted to make a post about<33

this is my energy trying to read her appearances sometimes ✌️

Comics: Batman: Gotham Adventures #43, The Batman Adventures: Mad Love

[shatcey]

Sariel sequel

I'm actually very surprised how much I like it. Of the three sequels I have read (Chev, Leon and Sari) that seemed to me the most interesting one. It's not that the others are bad, there's something about them that I really couldn't agree with. And that alone didn't allow me to fully immerse myself in the story (or believe in it).

I've finished all the sequels with only dramatic endings, so my opinion may be incomplete.

So… There was one thing I was very afraid of when I started reading Sariel's sequel. I was afraid Belle would feel "not good enough for him". He is much older, he has more experience, he knows much more than she does. It was pretty easy to imagine what she was thinking so. But to my surprise, she didn't feel it in the slightest. Moreover… I found that their bond is the strongest. I can't say why without spoiler, let's just say I feel that way.

I really like Belle in this route. Sometimes she cutely silly, but mostly she is very mature and calm. Her worries, her thoughts, her words, her actions are very logical… It was quite interesting to watch how her story unfolds.

I like Sariel here. He became softer, but it didn't change his core. It's like the ice has melted or… the stone has been polished… Slightly changed, but still the same. I like the way he interacts to Belle. This couple is really a couple. And I truly believe in their connection. It feels very strong.

I like that there was so much Azel in it. I like this guy, and his unique personality adds much-needed humor to the story. He definitely hadn't planned this. And there was a bit of Licht. He also added a few jokes. Again unintentionally.

The only thing that seemed strange to me was that Belle suddenly had paranormal abilities. Well… the same thing can be said for all sequels. She suddenly starts talking to Azel in her dreams even before she met him. In this story… she had a little more ability. But… it doesn't look too excessive to annoy, just the right amount. So, let's say that Tanzanite is such a magical place that even a simple girl like Belle has awakened special abilities.

So it should be a really good, even perfect sequel (and I still think so), but… There was a scene in the last chapter that just made me sad. I don't see this as a spoiler, it doesn't have any information about the plot, only before and after, but… just in case…

The delegation was sent to Tanzanite for one purpose only. Really. Just one. Find out the reason for the creation of the alliance.

And what are Sariel and Belle talking about when they get back? About their adventures, about the goods in local shops (including the gifts they brought with them). They weren't on vacation! This is not some kind of family reunion!

(exasperated sigh)

As a very loyal servant, first thing that Sariel has to say, "I'm sorry, my king, I didn't complete the task you gave me". But no… he didn't say that! Yes, a little later there was a scene where Sariel talks to Leon one-on-one, but it wasn't shown, it was behind a black screen. I belive it was about Sariel's past (judging by what was in the epilogue).

I'm just a little annoyed that they didn't even think about it.

I need to find a picture… a moment…

Yes, Gilly-bee, they really truely forgot about the deal with you… (shaking head) Fools indeed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🔝 Start page 🔝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[lizaluvsthis]

Kisame

"I regret the things I did..."

Written by @lizaluvsthis

Inspiration from the song ' Kisame ' by Rhodessa

[Recommended song to listen to]

Summary- SMG4 finished his daily video and laid back down to his bed, he finds himself overthinking...

Note- Kisame in english means ceiling ^^

Chapter is only 1/1

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Pining, Angst/Self Comfort, Gay and Depression is real.

You opened this chapter and I won't say sorry once you did.

10:25 pm

SMG4 had finished editing his video, shutting off the lights and laying his back flat on the mattress.

Taking a huge breath from all the exhaustion he wasted on another brand new video, opening both of his eyes.

He began to stare at the ceiling for a while with a blank thought of his mind, trying to take a break after everything. Even how much he pushed out those problems, it kept bothering him anyway.

What was he supposed to do? SMG4 is a hard worker, to keep the fans entertained, worked out from his ass by 24/7 with every videos he'd make, he couldn't stop.

Oh, how he regretted every moment of that, how he hated himself, he could never say sorry. Even just a simple sorry was difficult enough to emphasize his own character.

What made it hard for him to apologize is that he couldn't say sorry to himself, never even forgive. He was selfish, a selfish man whose hopes are up to 'follow that dream' but he can't push all of those problems forever, he can't just forget about them because they were such a big deal when you're living.

He found it hard to accept, to live as a normal guy. He has such a big reputation to be in and yet he's stuck at some place built a castle with his name written on it.

He still has to pay, living a day in a world where you survive while time passes by... it's sad.

He wished he never existed in the first place, but what came in? Contents to make him keep alive, endless amounts of videos he'd make.

The passion he craved with, the goal he reached. He made it. What next?

What was his next goal? If he had everything to himself now, why did he feel so incomplete? Why did he feel lost? Something missing?

SMG4 knows that he'd already been miserable enough, why else would he be upset?

"We can make another!"

A memory echoed through his head, ears hearing this out from Three's voice were surreal.

Just seeing three by his side, was he actually telling the truth? Were they both really friends? Were the things he said are real? Did he ACTUALLY had that soft side that led him to open up his heart and spoke the whole thing?

Or was that all just to set him free and that none ever he said were true?

But if he did... then why else would Three help him even after and before?

If three considered him as a friend, friends always got their back. Like how Mario helped him, how every crew of his are like a family he never had.

SMG3 meant something... something special...

He was the first antagonist he met but became ex rivals with four even right after the whole "destroying your reputation" arc.

What made three change his heart of mind? What made him change his choice?

Wasn't he supposed to kill the guy- him?

Wasn't he supposed to be the evil one?

Weren't his actions to make Four's life a living hell?

Weren't all those things he did is to steal his youtube channel?

What happened to him?

Where did his old self go and whats this new him?

What took four this long to realize that three had done so much to save him? Risked his life? Literally.

He was sorry for him, sorry for everything. But he never even told him how sorry, how much of a bother, how annoyingly of a coward he was towards his feelings.

"R-remember what I said?" What did he say? What was that? What is four missing here? What did he forgot? What did he miss?

"We're friends!"

.

.

.

-ring-

.

Was that right?

.

Were they both really friends?

.

After everything they've been through?

.

.

After... he destroyed him...?

.

.

.

"Ughhhh..." he tried to cover his eyes, planting his wrist to his view. Tried to keep himself calm...

-inhale-

A deep quiet sleep...

-exhale-

A silent evening with nothing to feel bothered of...

-inhale-

Just push them all away and never bother...

-exhale-

Going...

Back...

-

Opening his eyes back again looking upon the clock...

10:31 pm

Tik...

Tok...

Tik...

Tok...

Time passes by too slow... yet too fast at the same time...

It makes you go crazy and lose your mind...

Where did I went through?

How did I get here?

Why did I ended up like this?

A mind flooded questions, unanswered thoughts. Overthinking again and again and again and over again.

Why was he thinking about Three back there?

Why did it matter to him again?

He didn't know how or why...

There is just something... a thing that he isn't sure what it's called...

Sure they're friends but are they really?

There's so many things roaming through his head, sending him mixed signals from Three's complicated doings.

He found it quite interesting and exciting but at the same time- scary.

Intrigued and fascinated by how Three could do everything better, and that he never misses. All of it... impressive...

But wasn't four more better than him from the start? Back in memewarts he kept notice that Three had tried everything... yet... he got the attention all to himself again...

"You're an -sshole smg4..."

He said that to himself... everything is pretty bad to him... why did he have to do that? When you're already full of everything and you keep bugging into their life?

Came crashing in and picking up the pieces you can't fix...?

"You're so tsundere SMG3" "NO I'M NOT! YOU BAKA!"

Another set of memory flashed to his eyes, three is a tsundere... he looked at the meaning earlier ago, was this all true?

Three? Being an actual tsundere to SMG4... everytime... he gets back to him... a possibility he had feelings for...

No... no way... there's just no way...

His heart started beating faster, warmth from his face, his cheeks and his nose turning red. Felt like his eyes were burning, how he forgot to cry...

Felt like this was the first time from him in years to ever cry after so long... he gripped the sheets from the mattress, his heart felt torn apart.

Ripped up to bits, feeling it sunken deeper, like drowning from a breathable surface. Was that all he could ever wanted? Changing for the better person?

He was gay for him? Madly inlove? A reason why he RISKED his LIFE to SAVE HIM...???

"But why...?" Time and time again, why does Four even bother? It was all from Three... he felt so stupid... so oblivious that he is now realizing Three had this feeling for him...

"I'm... I'm just so lonely... I'm so stupid..." SMG4 hugged the only pillow from his head to his chest, "SO STUPID!" almost tearing the fabric. He lets go, fear that he'd been hurting...

Left for burden...

"I..." He didn't know what to do anymore, looking down at the small rips... in a depth of staring silently...

How long had he been too busy? How long? How long did Three wanted to admit he really love him? How long did three change?

How long was he also suffering the same silence just like his? How long did he hide everything from him? Being the coldest and meanest person? Becoming soft? How long?

How long didn't he express? How long had Four been ignoring his feelings? How long didn't he just act now? How long? How long could he stay like that?

How long would he keep on doing this?

...

Well one thing is for sure...

You can't solve everything from your problems...

You just... kind of did it... beyond repair... broken...

He knows he can't hide his pain anymore... why does he still deepen it when everything is collapsing?

Everything hurts...

Even if... how many times... he kept himself in strangles with the hardest things...

He still finds Three as his other way... like a pathway guiding him to the light like how he did when he was at his darkest moments of life.

Like how he saved him for not going insane...

Thats how of a person SMG3 is...

He hated it... he loved it at the same time...

He felt safe... yet uncomfortable...

Relaxed... panic...

Sad... happy...

Home... loved... and cared...

He didn't deserve all of this... but he is still greatful to have the people he's closest to by his side. Because they'll never leave him no matter what happens.

Four is thinking negative thoughts, but now it was replaced by Three and the positive outcomes of him catching up.

"Three you... you saved me..." Twice he said it... twice... yet Three saved him a bunch of times now, he had to thank him.

"Yeah whatever" how he nearly died during the chase with mario and the notebook, three flunging him out due to the missle's point.

He almost died, and three is just.

"You're gay for me?" he remembered the past, unsure if he really admitted that he has feelings for the man in purple. He was too scared to love, the most closest people he'd been with.

Made a thought of abandonment...

If he could've done more, he wouldn't be a burden to his friends and to him...

How does he tell Three that he also liked him? That he really really loved him...?

His thoughts can never get rid of him because he was someone special.

He wasn't sure if he's worthy for his love.

Why does it always have to end up like this?

.

.

He looked at his hand touching the air, notice of his tears stopping.

It's okay... even no matter what or how many times he ignored him, because the pain they both are baring now. Are insufferable to deal to.

Just for Three...

And to himself...

To live...

The water that dripped down from his tears dried, eyes widened and understanding. His heart now wrapped and covered with warmth and joy.

He finally smiled with those soft eyes.

He hugged himself and laughed, how he loved Three, how he just overthinked everything to question his purpose and living, then to him again.

It doesn't matter anymore.

What matters is that he continued living than choosing to die, his decisions are what he points at.

No matter now, if he doesn't know how to deal with his problems? He'll find a way...

He always does...

With a final exhale, relaxing his head and shutting both of his eyes.

How he loved it...

Dying from his lifeline with just a silent scream, daring not to tell a word or two.

Three is all that matters to him in the end.

A few minutes passed by as he drifting away to sleep...

----------

Three however is also dealing the same problem... except it was the opposite. Crying himself to sleep...

- END -