#the composition here cries

[doodlingcrayon]

A Spring Picnic! 🌸🍃

[crimsoncandy04]

This is my first post but I feel like the world needs my vision so here it is.

Imagine actually getting The Wanderer to see you in a desirable way. I honestly feel like he'd still be rough around the edges (and with you too) simply because even though he wants you, this is still showing deep vulnerability which is uncomfortable for him.

So I picture him sort of passively trying to steer the conversation towards the topic and really trying hard to make it seem like you're the one who wants it and not him. And if he succeeded, he'd be so openly thirsty after that. (This man has craved the feeling of being wanted for centuries. You give him any greenlight and you're a done woman;))

He'd be so focused on making YOU feel good too. It's in his nature to serve after all. Even if he claims it's not.

He'd start gentle. Careful not to go too far right off the bat and risk scaring you away. Gently stretching your pussy open with his fingers as he asked if you were enjoying it. He'd pay close attention to every expression you make. Every sound from your lips. It doesn't take him longer than a minute to find your sweet spot either. And once he does he'd continuously massage it in a way that made those adorable moans escape from your throat that he secretly loved! He's a yapper too.

Calling you cute and also pathetic for cumming on his fingers so many times like the hopeless little slut you are ~

If you asked, he'd definitely try to taste you too.

He'd be curious anyway. Even if he never openly expressed this. But as you feel his tongue slide between your folds you can easily feel it. His tongue laps against your already sensitive inner walls as he holds you in place by your hips. Pulling you against him so he can taste as much of you as possible.

His tongue might accidentally graze your clit too. And the second you make a sound, he knows.

He'd cautiously give your nub another lick, testing the waters to see if you in fact liked that. Your soft moan being all the confirmation he needs as he begins to eagerly suckle and lick your pleasure spot knowing you're completely at his mercy and touch now.

He'd keep going until you told him to stop too. (Or at least until he got you to squirt. A sign he'd learn to take that he did well and would always strive for from then on)

And when you were on the brink of passing out and were all but spent, THEN he'd try to fuck you with his cock.

And because he's not a normal man, he's bigger than expected. (Clearly whoever decided to give him one wanted to make sure he was well equipped;))

WAY bigger.

You gasp and try to stifle the little whine that comes from your mouth but he's already heard it. He'd smirk at you, and would openly taunt you for going this far and yet still struggling to take him like a pitiful virgin but in his mind he'd be concerned and would start at a slower and softer pace until you got used to him. And when you finally adjust, he'd begin to get bold.

This man loves to be in charge as much as he loves to feel wanted and needed, so I feel like he'd put you in positions where he held the most control.

He'd start by flipping your knees over your head. Pounding deep into your still sensitive pussy as his tip kisses your cervix and your cries of pleasure echo throughout the room.

He'd hold you in his arms while standing. Gently bouncing your body up and down on his cock as he went in for a deep kiss.

Anything that involves you being under him or dependent on him while he pleasures you so that your entire world is nothing but him in that moment.

He'd end up being a little rough near the end but his aftercare is world class.

He'd hold you close and ask if you feel sore or pain anywhere. Telling you how good you felt to him and how pretty you looked. He'd be no where close to exhausted due to his physical composition and would bring you anything you needed without complaint. Food? Done. Water? Say no more. A massage or bath? Gladly.

Anything to make you feel comfortable after the number he put you through.

And though he wouldn't openly say it, you are basically his wife now.

Not even a girlfriend.

This man would be at your side from that day onwards and would absolutely get jealous if you tried to get close to anyone else.

But are you his girlfriend?

No that's stupid! As a puppet, he has no need for such trivial human connections nor emotions! He's told you this a million times already after all.

The little dates, gifts, and things he does for you are simply an exchange!

And he can't have anyone else ruining this special arrangement between you now can he?

[patentedsun]

nalu used to be like a 40:40:20 split of serious:goofy/casual:fanservice but now it's like 80:10:10 fanservice:goofy/casual:serious.... err unrelated but here r my top nalu moments ever!

1) Rainbow Sakura

what can I say.... quintessential nalu... natsu being uncharacteristically moody just because Lucy was missing out on something so important to her ... going out of his way to UPROOT A TREE and SAIL IT BY HER HOUSE (good GOD) just to make her feel better... even if he didn't gaf about that rainbow sakura, he still understood that Lucy cared about it!! (this is also my main argument that natsu can totally be a romantic, he'll do anything as long it's something she would want!!!)

2) Lucy in the sky with diamonds

Look ... I love Imagery ™. What do you mean she was a shooting star that fell on earth what do you MEANNN HE RAN TO CATCH HER. This is an anime only scene, but who cares. The entire sequence is genuinely so beautiful. The composition™ of that wide shot of him running after her, the zoom in to Lucy falling, classic trip-and-get-back-up, natsu's EXPRESSION as he rushes to catch her... it's all so gorgeous what the hellllll

3) Everything to do with Future Lucy

I legitimately cried in 2014 when the golden plain scene hit with the piano rendition of the main theme. I was like 10??? that shit changed my LIFE. This arc was back to back nalu goodness... the forehead touch was soooo IT WAS SOOOOO natsu what the HELLLLLL.... and OF COURSE their eternal adventure continued in the afterlife (tangentially, any scene that paralleled their first meeting had me cheesing and deserves a honourary mention) ...

[hairmetal666]

Steddie Notes BONUS PART

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

Eddie wakes up to an empty bed. He’s a little surprised, honestly, since he had his heart set on first anniversary morning sex. Though, based on the smells wafting through their apartment, Steve’s making breakfast, which is an acceptable alternative (plus, if he has it his way, they aren’t leaving the bed again today).

The digital alarm clock on his bedside table is obscured by a Composition Book he doesn’t remember bringing to bed. He reaches for it before his brain registers the red ink dragon sketched on the cover. His hands tremble as he flips it open, but the first few pages are written in his own scrawl. Steve’s handwriting doesn’t appear until 10 pages in and Eddie’s heart stutters at the sight.

March 28, 1986

God, Eddie, I’m so sorry. So, so fucking sorry. I can’t— I’m sorry. I should have been there, I should’ve protected you, I should’ve kept you safe. 

You wouldn’t be part of this if it weren’t for me. Robin and Dustin keep telling me that's not true, that Chrissy was already cursed but. Robin is here because of me. Erica-fucking Sinclair is here because of me. And now you. And you’re dying. And it’s my fault. 

I don’t even know what I’m doing right now, but I can’t just sit and wait, I’d lose my mind. Anyway. You left this notebook in my trunk, and I hope you don’t mind that I’m using it. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been this terrified in my life, Eds.

Please don’t die on me. I can’t live in this world without you. 

March 29, 1986

Hey Eds

You made it through the night. I can’t fucking believe it. I ripped Robin’s shirt when the doctor came in to tell us that you were out of surgery and stable, and then he dropped the bomb that your chance of surviving the night was 40%. Forty-fucking-percent. I guess you beat the odds, babylove.

I’m with Uncle Wayne at your bedside. He threw a fit to make sure I could be here whenever I wanted, and that everyone could visit.

You’ve missed some wild shit, Munson, you’re going to be so mad when you wake up. 

Come back to me, sweet boy. I can’t take this.

March 30, 1986

Made it through a second night, babe. 

I hope you wake up soon. 

Miss you like crazy. 

I keep looking at you in this hospital bed, and you look so fucking small. I hate it. You’re the loudest voice in the room. You don’t just take up space, you demand it. It’s killing me that I haven’t heard your voice in days. And my brain, it keeps filling in things you would say, and I wait for you to speak up, but of course you don’t. It’s a kick to the balls every single time. 

The thing is. 

The thing is that I need you to wake up, Eddie. You can’t leave me. I made up my mind a long time ago, we’re spending our lives together. And it can’t fucking end now. It can’t end because of this. 

And I need you to open your goddamn beautiful eyes so I can tell you how much I love you. You don’t get to go before you hear me say it, do you understand?

I love you. You’re it for me. I’ve never wanted a forever as much as I want one with you. So, you have to wake up, yeah? You have to wake up so we can grow up, have a family, have a life together. 

Promise you won’t leave me, Eds.

March 31, 1986

You woke up, you motherfucker. The doctors kicked me out to look you over and I cried so hard in the bathroom that Robin made El break down the door with her powers. 

Thank you for coming back. I won’t ever let you go again.

April 7, 1987

I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m giving this to you, babylove. It’s been a year. Look how far we’ve come. 

✏️✏️✏️✏️

September 18, 2015

It’s way too fucking early for Eddie to even be awake and he has the day off. Steve asked him to take vacation months ago, didn’t say why, and now that fucker has the audacity to not even be in the house. And like, sure, they’ve been together for close to thirty years, and Eddie knows that Steve goes for a run at the ass crack of dawn.

Still pisses him off, though. 

Eddie huffs down to the kitchen to get coffee started, doing a double take when he sees a familiar black Composition Book with red dragon on the cover. 

He walks towards it slowly because this has been framed on the wall since their first anniversary, way back in ’87, and Steve isn’t home.

Eddie opens it, re-reads the panicked, lovesick notes Steve wrote in the hospital, doesn't bother to fight back the tears. He gets to the last letter and the paper is stiff and wrinkled, like it took water damage. Eddie flips the page, grief already pumping through his veins.

What he sees instead is college-ruled notebook paper, glued in place. It reads:

“I fucking hate this class.”

“Tell me about it.”

“trig. You?”

“Algebra 2 :(” 

A sound escapes his mouth, something between a laugh and a sob.

“Hey man, I'm pretty sure I fucked things up with us, and I owe you an apology. I've always known who you were, but you had no idea I was me...”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re kind of beautiful, Munson?”

“Watch. The. Movie. This is the last time we get high first if this is how you behave.”

 “What are you gonna win me at the fair, Harrington?” 

 “If you’re nice to me, probably something cute.” 

“Eddie…I think I really like you

You’re my favorite person in the entire world

Some days you’re the only thing I can think about

I want to wake up in bed with you everyday

I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you

Do you like me? Yes or No”

“What are you doing about Hellfire?”

“Huh?”

“If the game is Friday. Lucas can’t do both.”

“He made his choice.”

“You ever been in love?”

No, but I think I’m falling”

“I love you, Eddie”

All the sketches of the sailor boy and the rockstar are there, even the one Eddie stuck to the poster in his room, though how Steve managed to get that is anyone’s guess.

There are pictures too, Eddie and Max still recuperating in the hospital; Corroded Coffin performing at the Hideout; them holding the keys to the bar, Steve shirtless and hammering something while Eddie looks on, with the increasingly popular bands Eddie booked to play their must-see Friday night slots; Steve on his first day of college and one of him jumping into Eddie’s arms in his graduation gown, mortar board slipping off his head; In the hospital cradling their twin girls with Max giving a weary thumbs-up between them. Shot after shot of their family, their life, their dreams coming true. A scrapbook of their lives together, big moments and small; good and bad. 

Eddie’s crying freely as he flips through the rest of the book, still fucking astounded that Steve is the love of his life, that they’re making a forever together.

Eddie flips to the last page. Stops dead. 

In Steve’s looped handwriting, unchanged since high school, it says:

“Eddie, 

         Will you marry me?”

“What the fuck?” He yelps, standing up fast enough that his chair crashes to the floor. 

He turns and Steve— his reason for being, the man that brought him back from the dead—Steve Harrington, is down on one knee, something silver glinting in his outstretched hand.

“Eddie,” he says, his voice a wreck. “Marry me?” 

Eddie crashes to his knees, shoving at Steve’s shoulder. “You’re such an idiot.”

Steve laughs. “Is that a yes?”

Eddie laughs too, but it quickly morphs into a sob, “Of course it’s a yes, Steve. Of course.”

Hands trembling, Steve slips the ring onto Eddie’s hand. It’s a thin silver band with skeletal hands contorted into an infinity symbol. 

They fall into a kiss that rips the breath from Eddie’s lungs, but then that’s nothing new. When they finally pull apart Eddie asks, “why today?”

Steve blushes and grabs at the back of his neck. “Thirty-one years ago, I walked into Mundy’s class and found a note on the window ledge.” 

“What the fuck.” Eddie’s mouth drops, his heart stuttering. This man.

“Once I figured out you leaving that note was going to be one of the most important moments of my life? I made sure to never forget.”

“Baby.” Eddie pulls Steve in for another kiss. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

Steve tugs at Eddie’s hand. “C’mon.”

“Where we going?” 

“The girls will be here in a couple hours, and I have some things I want to do to you before they’re home.”

“The GIRLS?” Eddie shrieks. “How the hell long have you been planning this? Did they KNOW?”

“Since the end of June,” Steve answers without missing a beat. “And of course they know. Everyone knows. I asked Wayne for his blessing.” 

Eddie can’t speak, his heart crashing in his chest as he, once again, thanks whatever entity made it possible for him to have this.

“I’ve been in love with you for over half my life, Eds. I wanted to do this right. You deserve it. We deserve it.” 

He pulls Steve into his arms, kissing him hard enough that their teeth clack, but neither of them care.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

When they come home from dinner, as Steve reaches in his pocket for his keys to let the entire family in the house to celebrate their engagement, he finds a gum wrapper tucked in with the metal. He unfolds it, the words within unfurling in his heart, his soul.

"Thank you for giving me forever, sweetheart."

Edited: check out the full version on ao3!

This is officially the end! I hope you enjoyed this little (long) bonus part. Thanks for reading! 💜💜💜

@gaysonthefloor @little-gae-shit @ineffablecolors @mojowitchcraft @hiscrimsonangel @thegingerrapunzel @adelicioustragedy @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @im-sam-fucking-winchester @rainydays35 @gobbledy-gluk-gluk @gay-stranger-things @sherilitchi @gezell-igg @leather-and-freckles @bornonthesavage @ramyayaya @awkwardgravity1 @chaoticvictorianspirit @thosemessyvibes @beeing-stuupid @silentiumdelirium @freyaforestafay @thatbitchgayasf @sapphirecobalt-1 @sahh-dude @adorkfromnewyork @ollie-in-gray @extralegobrick @snapshotmaestro

@fandomgenderz @nuttychaosface @thatcottagewitch @idoquitelikebread @shinekocreator @savveth @mackfrfr0 @yourebuckingkiddingme @steddieassheg0es @gamerdano @thebig-smoke @questionablequeeries @zerokrox-blog @thegingervulcann @charlies-candid-corner@perpetual-trashcan @sleepy-rainedrop @marvelous-musicals @hoffmannwrites @fromapayphone @courtjestermunson@juicinmyjams @daydreaming-mood @aceflavouredyougurt @emly03 @pille1983 @darcyshandflex @anteaterballs @adankrivervalleynearyou @didntwant2come @kittsu-makes-glass @alienace

@somewhereatdawn @5pac3g1r7 @thequeervibes @paperbackribs @bitchysunflowerr @knitsforthetrail @wrenisflying @plasticcrotches @demoniccorvid @em9515 @savory-babby @loverliner @aceacebaby42

@trainchomp @anaibis

[thebrickinbrick]

Night Begins to Descend Upon Grantaire, Part 4

“Matelote is homely!" he cried: "Matelote is of a dream of ugliness! Matelote is a chimæra. This is the secret of her birth: a Gothic Pygmalion, who was making gargoyles for cathedrals fell in love with one of them, the most horrible, one fine morning. He besought Love to give it life, and this produced Matelote. Look at her, citizens! She has chromate-oflead-colored hair, like Titian's mistress, and she is a good girl. I guarantee that she will fight well. Every good girl contains a hero. As for Mother Hucheloup, she's an old warrior. Look at her moustaches! She inherited them from her husband. Α hussar indeed! She will fight too. These two alone will strike terror to the heart of the banlieue. Comrades, we shall overthrow the government as true as there are fifteen intermediary acids between margaric acid and formic acid; however, that is a matter of perfect indifference to me. Gentlemen, my father always detested me because I could not understand mathematics. I understand only love and liberty. Grantaire, the good fellow. Having never had any money, I never acquired the habit of it, and the result is that I have never lacked it; but, if I had been rich, there would have been no more poor people! You would have seen! Oh, if the kind hearts only had fat purses, how much better things would go! I picture myself Jesus Christ with Rothschild's fortune! How much good he would do!

Matelote, embrace me! You are voluptuous and timid ! You have cheeks which invite the kiss of a sister, and lips which claim the kiss of a lover."

“Hold your tongue, you cask!" said Courfeyrac.

Grantaire retorted: “I am the capitoul' and the master of the floral games!”

Enjolras, who was standing on the crest of the barricade, gun in hand, raised his beautiful, austere face. Enjolras, as the reader knows, had something of the Spartan and of the Puritan in his composition. He would have perished at Thermopyla with Leonidas, and burned at Drogheda with Cromwell.

“Grantaire," he shouted, "go get rid of the fumes of your wine somewhere else than here. This is the place for enthusiasm, not for drunkenness. Don't disgrace the barricade!"

This angry speech produced a singular effect on Grantaire. One would have said that he had had a glass of cold water flung in his face. He seemed to be rendered suddenly sober.

He sat down, put his elbows on a table near the window, looked at Enjolras with indescribable gentleness, and said to him :

"Let me sleep here."

"Go and sleep somewhere else," cried Enjolras.

But Grantaire, still keeping his tender and troubled eyes fixed on him, replied: "Let me sleep here, until I die."

Enjolras regarded him with disdainful eyes: "Grantaire, you are incapable of believing, of thinking, of willing, of living, and of dying."

Grantaire replied in a grave tone: "You will see.”

He stammered a few more unintelligible words, then his head fell heavily on the table, and, as is the usual effect of the second period of inebriety, into which Enjolras had roughly and abruptly thrust him, an instant later he had fallen asleep.

[very-straight-blog]

The music that played during Aegon this episode actually gives me so much hope for the future of his character. It was gorgeous, tragic, and honestly? Heroic. Like, I thought oh with this show’s bias that’s definitely Rhaenys in there and then it was Aegon. I actually am hopeful they won’t mess up his arc from here. Maybe they actually do know what gold they have

Yes, the music at that moment was amazing! Ramin Djawadi did a great job. In my opinion, it was the best composition in this season so far, I almost cried. As for the development of Aegon, I stopped trying to predict anything in this show a long time ago. In the first season, Aegon seemed to be the most ruined character, but in the second season he has a pretty consistent and logical story arc. I don't know.

[arecaceae175]

Trick-or-treat!!!

(First Part) (<- Previous Part. This one is a continuation of previous scene)

Warriors opened his mouth. He closed his mouth.

He opened it again, then closed it again, then did that at least four more times.

Wild fell to the ground, rolling in the grass beside Wind as they both clutched their stomachs in laughter. Twilight leaned forward to support himself on his knees, one hand wiping tears from his eyes.

"I can't," Twilight wheezed. "You look like a fish!"

"You-I- that's not-" Warriors sputtered. Legend's composite broke and he howled in laughter.

"You stole my scarf!" Warriors cried.

"Oh, calm down. I would never let it get damaged," Legend said sincerely. 

Time appeared behind Warriors and clapped a hand on his shoulder. He pointed at Legend. “Now that is the greatest costume I’ve seen in my entire life.”

Warriors could’ve cried. “All those masks you have, and that’s the best costume you’ve seen?”

Time shrugged. “Art imitates life.”

“I’m disowning you.” 

Legend laughed brightly and sauntered up to Warriors. “Come on, you have to admit it’s pretty good.”

“No! No I do not!”

“It’s the cut off sleeves that does it for me,” Time said. 

“I like the makeup!” Wild called. 

Twilight shook his head, barely able to get a word out between laughs. “No, no, the best part is the tattoo!!”

“Socks!” Wind yelled. “Cardboard!!”

Warriors hid his face in his hands. “Hylia strike me down.”

Time hit his shoulder roughly. “You can’t get rid of us that easily, Captain.”

“What are y’all doing standing around out here?” Malon called out. 

“No,” Warriors moaned in embarrassment. 

“Miss Malon! Miss Malon!” Wind leapt to his feet and raced to Malon, grabbing her hand and pulling her to Legend.

Legend smirked. “You like my costume.”

Malon immediately burst into laughter. Warriors groaned. 

“You’re the captain!” Malon said. “But… going through something.”

Roaring laughter drowned out Warriors’ groan.

“Alright, alright, let’s put him out of his misery,” Twilight said, after the laughter had gone on for longer than Warriors thought possible.

“Please,” Warriors cried. 

“Where’s the rest of ya?” Malon asked as she checked her watch. “It’s past nine.” 

Time slid an arm around his wife’s waist. “If they’re half an hour late I’ll start to worry. Let’s head inside.”

“Here, Twi.” Wild tossed his candy bag to Twilight. He caught it easily, and raised an eyebrow. 

“You don’t want to stay for the count?” 

“Nah, just add mine to yours. I’m gonna help Miss Malon in the kitchen.”

“Oh, you’re too sweet. You can play with your brothers, I’ve got it handled in there,” Malon said. 

“I’ll make pie.”

“PIE!” “Yes!” “Bye Wild!” 

Wild laughed and nodded. “I’m going, I’m going!” 

Warriors groaned again. Twilight pat his shoulder consolingly.

(Next Part ->)

[markipliere]

TO CLARIFY AGAIN I loved sleedge

Review and spoilers below

Loved the show,,, i am overall pretty disappointed with the lack of the “cutting off your balls” guy but i love that they hinted at it. I also miss the moobles and the horror movie scene alltogether but I understand the limitations they have with the budget and stuff. I really hope the show does good outside of Marks fans, and i believe it will and ideally maybe we will get an international release. I had to watch it on a vpn (canada, used Nord) which wasn’t a big deal on pc, was fairly easy to use and such. But i think if somehow they were able to release it internationally itd blow up insanely. I also hope we’re able to keep it in the top ten for this month (totally not because i want to see iron lung ,,, 👀) and all around its a great show.

Considering too that it was filmed in 2020-2021 is nuts with all the covid restrictions and so on.

The mask of the Elephant monster was awesome and super grotesque, its first appearance grossed me out pretty bad (im not a lover of gore) and I immediately screenshot it and shared it around lmaoo. I do feel, like moistCr1TiKaL/penguinz0 said here , it does kind of drop in its scare factor later on with how often it is just shown standing there in bright light. Still gross, just not as nuts as the first time. The whale clips were nuts, and the sky whale later on was also awesome and the colour choices around the whole show were really good. I very much as an artist thought a lot of them to be pretty inspiring and pretty good for colour/composition/atmosphere studies.

Katies last appearance was sick as fuck, and im glad matteo didnt meet the same fate as originally. I cried about that shit when i listened to the podcast. Linda was fun, she seemed much more agro in the show which i also liked. The old lady section just made me feel bad lmao, like damn atleast in the podcast we had a shithead to not feel bad about. I actually had a lot of fun watching it and seeing the changes and the therapist was a super fun change despite … the gigantic difference in origin for daves scarring.

Also the fucking puke in the sink scene was SO GROSS “its so warm” EWWWWW STOPPPPPP

oh and love love love matteos Character and also the pin in the grass, Dave struggling was so well acted out and the scream really did it i think. Overall 10/10 coz its mark, 8.5/10 coz it was not PHENOMENAL but it was very good. I recommend it and if youve seen the show by now i implore you to listen to the podcast if you dig that kind of thing. If you listened to the podcast first id love to hear your thoughts on it too, feel free to comment your blogs with your reviews and stuff too :D

[justplainwhump]

They deserve it

This is a prompt fill for Day 3 of Whumpmas in July, @whumpmasinjuly-archive.

Set in parallel to the beginning of my BBU series Pet Safety, refers to the first two chapters.

Renee is just being a very creepy person.

Content / warnings: BBU, voyeuristic whumper pov, creepy/sadistic whumper, mention of (group) noncon, filmed whump, forced to watch, demeaning language, this is pretty rough in general. Also short pregnancy mention but that is in no way part of the whump, and not related to whumpee.

Renee has never told Cory, that she's paid WRU's refurb unit double to be sent the tapes of their pets' processing. He wouldn't understand, she wagered. Her husband had always had a soft spot for his plaything.

So she patiently waits until he is at work, before she puts on a record of Haydn's "The Creation" and then curls up on the couch to watch the tapes for a third time, just as the first soloist starts to sing.

They're vile, these videos, but it's that particular, thrilling flavor of vile, that makes the hair on her arms stand up and her heart flutter.

It's nothing sexual that she feels, as she watches Cory's pathetic little WRU whore writhe in the brutal hold of two sturdy Guards, underlined with Haydn's magnificent music. It's another sort of pleasure. Peace of mind, maybe.

The pet on the screen is in a disgusting state, covered in blood and come. One of the men in the video fucks her roughly from behind, the other lands punch after punch. And next to them, fixed to the white wall with clinical looking fastings, Renee's own pet, the good, perfect Rosa, cannot to anything but watch.

Renee smiles at the perfect composition of that ensemble. It's the same lazy, content smile she sees on her friends faces after a holiday or a day at the spa. She's ordered that treatment, after a short consultation with WRU Customer Satisfaction.

They deserve it.

Blanca deserves it for her audacity.

Rosa deserves it for her lack in loyalty.

Cory deserves it, for the too long looks he liked to spare for Blanca, for the lingering touches, for the barely veiled adoration of her whore body.

On screen, when the man pulls out, lets her drop to the floor like a wet rag only to make space for a fresh team, Blanca doesn't even react any longer. Pathetic.

Renee hums and takes a sip of that pricey, fizzy non-alcoholic peach drink she's bought just for this occasion and imagines it's champagne. She has to take care of herself and her body these days. Not too much stress, the doctor has ordered.

Good that she has just the way to unwind.

The video is silent, but it's easy to see that Rosa's cries must be devastating, as she witnesses the wayward pet get beautifully, perfectly ruined.

She'll never forget her place again.

Renee smiles fondly and rests a hand her rounded belly. There's a month or so still, until Rosa is needed back here, to fulfill the duty she's been purchased for.

WRU assured her that Rosa's loyalty would never be diverted again.

On the screen, a handler drags Blanca's lifeless body away.

"Bye bye," Renee whispers, and lifts the champagne flute to her lips.

Only Rosa remains in the white room, crying, strung up on the wall. Renee zooms in on her teary face and smiles softly. The video won't end for another 43 minutes. And, just like the last two times, Renee is not going to miss a second of it.

[linktoo]

Watching Alien 9 - how it's perceived and what it wanted to say

Warnings for themes of abuse and implied sexual assault. 

Two things before I start: I watched the subbed version of this, and also there are only 4 episodes if you want to check it out yourself, it’s very short.  

I started watching Alien 9 basically knowing nothing about it. It's an older anime, released back in 2001 so there isn't much internet discussion about it for each episode. But I remember watching it slowly realizing there’s a lot to unpack here. The art direction is beautiful and the dialogue is actually really strong. I went out of my way to look for analysis I could find on the internet because there was a lot that I couldn’t really put into words… but I very quickly came across an ongoing issue.

I guess this is probably a common problem with a lot of media that came out before the internet became the juggernaut that it has become today. The discussion you tend to find doesn’t seem to be very cleaned up or very nuanced - a lot of it is also probably lost to time with discussion forums and personal websites shutting down. But all I saw were really outdated remarks, like “oh kasumi’s the lolicon" and "this is pedo bait”, etc. It was gross and frustrating. So I wanted to talk about it in-depth.  

The anime is initially presented to be a cute slice-of-life anime. Set in a regular school with a sci-fi twist, it gives off a cheery sweet vibe, but even from the very beginning, there was always such an off vibe to it all. With the music fluctuating between cute and off-kilter and discordant. Every shot feels vaguely oppressive, trying to hide something that should be immediately within your line of sight if you were there yourself. You immediately get a sense that something is wrong. 

Not to mention so many silent shots of this looming, grotesque-looking alien pod that looms over the school with weapons. 

Someone commented that the OST for this anime like “a child with anxiety” which is such a great way to describe it! It’s filled with lots of very juvenile, bouncy tunes (like lots of recorders and kazoos and xylophones and horns), even with motifs that sound similar to nursery rhymes like “Mary Had a Little Lamb” but in a minor key. It gives a very jaunty feeling while distinctly feeling off. I think it also has a very soldierly, elementary school vibe to it - like the sound of a bell and young students chanting together in unison like a military cadence. There are instances of kids singing as a choir, giving a religious, holy aspect to certain tracks. It also mixes in synthy, crazy bonker wet sounding and snappy sound samples for the alien feel of it all. It’s erratic. And it’s so cohesive!! I really don’t know much about music composition, but it’s so distinctive to fit the narrative and themes of the show and I love it. Check it out if you’re interested, it’s so funky: [x]

The show focuses on three 12-year-old girls, being tasked with capturing and subduing aliens  with guns, roller skates, and symbiotic aliens that are attached to their heads and feed on their body fluids. Yeah. That’s a bit overwhelming. 

And Yuri Otani, the main character, gets so much shit for hating it. She was forced into it, in a very isolating method of basically the entire classroom ganging up to all vote for her to join (no one wanted to join themselves). The other two, Kumi and Kasumi, are very competent in their own way, which makes Yuri’s inability to capture these very understandably disturbing, pulsating creatures look foolish in comparison.

She cries. Yuri cries a lot. She’s already had a very overwhelming fear with anything that pertains to aliens and left to her own devices she collapses, faints, shudders, wails, and shuts down throughout the entire show. 

And understandably so, it’s creepy and gross and absolutely horrid! It doesn’t get any better!! But everyone around her acts like fighting these aliens are completely normal. Her peers are passive about her distress. Her one kind classmate friend tells her it’s not that bad because of the emergency perks. The adults around her tell her to just stick it out. The other two peers in the alien fighter club frankly have their own concerns and it’s more than just a bit of a liability that Yuri can barely defend herself at all. 

Yuri in turn struggles with depression every moment she isn’t fighting aliens. She can't get out of bed in the morning. She zones out, at home and at work. It’s very resonant with me, because that kind of depression is debilitating and takes over so much of your life - you’re seen as lazy when really, you quite literally can’t function unless someone firmly and continuously forces you to do something. It’s upsetting to watch. 

There are invasive, sexual overtones to this story. A lot of people have likened it to an allegory of puberty where your body is rapidly changing and just in general everything feels very confusing and upsetting. Being taken advantage of because you aren’t experienced. The danger that these adults put these children in and tell them just to figure it out or basically die trying, is very reminiscent of a lot of real societal pressure for kids to grow up with very little emotional support. To “toughen” them up, because one day they have to face this big scary world alone. It’s uncomfortable and it gets worse as the story progresses. 

I don’t want to get into it too much, but there is an allegorical gang rape scene that occurs to Yuri in episode 2. The Hunt club advisor already recognized that she was struggling with alien capturing and was instructed to feed the aliens alone, without the help of the other two members to keep her safe. There, three boys who willingly attached aliens to their head and have had this odd fixation on Yuri for several days, find her all alone. It’s violent. Their drills are overtly phallic themed. I can’t get over the haunting statement of her friend calling her “miss popular” just a few hours beforehand. Their attention was NEVER wanted and that framing is so unsettling to me, like the way people say women who were sexually assaulted were “asking for it”. It’s one of the most disturbing parts of the whole show.

It’s repulsive what they do to her. And her pain is destructive not to herself, but everyone around her. 

And how she immediately collapses when she sees the one person that has always been the closest thing to emotional support throughout the entire show. 

There are very human moments in the show, when there are people that show signs of affection that they didn’t have to do, but did it because they cared about her and it makes all the difference.

Yuri’s one friend Miyu always waits to walk home with her. The alien capturing duties are very isolating from the rest of the school, and forces Yuri to stay very late after everybody leaves. But Miyu waits long hours, and at the end of the day, excitedly meets up with her. She invites Yuri to go shopping with her. It’s very obvious she looks forward to the time they spend together.

(E.g. Miyu reading the shopping manual, passing a note to Yuri in class, the way she runs up to meet Yuri when she’s free. It’s so sweet.)

You can even see the beams almost being prison bars that Yuri is momentarily free from. She’s the reason why Yuri gets enough courage and resolve to try her best again with alien fighting and bonding with the others of her own accord. It shows a lot about Yuri’s desire to do well with the insane tasks and responsibilities her adults give her, even when no one else notices. 

The other two members of the alien capturing club are Kumi and Kasumi.

And though they help Yuri out, it’s definitely a little of a drag for them. Kumi in particular has this deep rooted anger when Yuri begs for help. Her own situation at home reminds her that she is constantly relied on; to be the good sport, to be the mature one in every situation and make all the decisions for everyone. 

“I don’t feel like being nice. Not anymore.

[...]

You know something? I was the class leader from grade one onward. Being class leader sucks. All you do is look after other people and you even have to be responsible for what they do. I always got stuck doing all the crappy jobs. That's why I have this position now. So nobody can say to me ‘YOU be the leader.’ Back off and take care of your own problems.” - Kumi

You can even see her wardrobe tends to be clothes that make her more mature than she actually is, especially her black turtleneck. But she’s just a kid, too.

And to her, Yuri is another pathetic whiny colleague asking for her help. Again. And she’s tired.

Kasumi's own narrative definitely is its own disturbing, isolated situation. She’s seen to be the least upset out of the three of them in the whole series, always with a level head and a smile on her face. She’s a prodigy, and seemingly enjoys what she does. She loves everything - sports, playing music, scoring high on tests. But you can see how it feels rather empty, how she’s put herself in this situation to constantly affirm to all the adults in her life that she is well adjusted and super talented. I get the feeling she was not given the love and attention really needed as a child, and did everything she could to get some form of acknowledgement. Notably, her big brother who is noticeably absent the entire time. For… disturbingly what was implicated to be because of incest and grooming. She never quite recovers from the yellowknife alien taking advantage of her unhealthy dependency on him, as they weren’t able to save her before it symbiotically fused with her.

It's not until the traumatic incident Yuri goes through that it’s revealed that the three of them are emotionally bound and feel Yuri’s distress as if it's their own. It’s startling, like they realize that they all experienced that same terror individually, but Yuri’s is much more paralyzing. And understanding that distress, they become particularly protective about her. They only have each other that can ever fully understand what they’re going through at the moment. A classmate couldn’t ever really see that, and Kumi and Kasumi become the people in Yuri’s life that truly empathize with the situation.

and with all of them, Yuri SHINES.

Every time there is a kindness that someone extends to her, her eyes light up. She goes quiet and says, “I think I can stick this out, I think I can keep fighting for a little while longer” and god honestly it makes me feel so weepy. Being shown even one ounce of love, one little action that says “I want you to be here with me,” it gives so much weight to her as a person, someone that keeps her being like. I don’t know! Just a little kid!! Doing random kid stuff!!! It’s genuinely healing and the things they do to coax her out of her shell just a little bit brings levity of the show and moments that she can feel safe again.

You also really get to see as she’s encouraged to get over her fears on a much lower level of danger (swimming in an ocean, running through a “haunted” shrine) with her friends. Even when she’s heavily reminded of her traumatic experiences, she can always run away, back to her friends' arms. 

Notice I didn’t point out her advisor leading the alien capturing duties, because she obviously has no real care towards these kids. It’s honestly a little insidious, because every adult Yuri comes in contact with is female, and have this like, motherly/teacher tone that can SOUND nice and polite, but it’s cold. It’s distant. The three go through harrowing experiences and all the advisor can focus on is her job, and what it means for her. Just that it’s just a nuisance to her. 

“This is strange. I didn’t ask for this. I wonder if it got here by attaching itself to a spaceship. I haven’t even finished checking everyone’s summer homework. This is the last thing I needed!”

Obviously, that doesn’t even begin to talk about how she and the other adults are not transparent at all and have hidden intentions for the girls.

And I want to get into that as a narrative with the discussion online, because holy FUCK. 

It’s time to talk about the obvious Neon Genesis Evangelion (NGE) inspiration that touches the show, from the stark compositions and beautiful animation and notably, how the main character is struggling with depression and the overwhelming responsibility that’s piled onto him. It’s honestly such an interesting comparison to me especially since the two main characters are in starkly different (yet overwhelming) situations. While Shinji is a 16-year-old boy, Yuri is a 12-year-old girl and their societal expectations based on each identity sets them apart. 

Everyone really loves to compare Shinji and Yuri, even going so far as to say “Alien 9 is basically just NGE.” God. That’s a bit reductive of a comparison. You can see the way they talk about both of them, how useless and crybaby and whiny they both are perceived to be by this audience. 

They call Yuri “bitchy”, they call her “useless crybaby”, they call her stupid and moronic, but most importantly, they say she has 0 character development throughout the entire show. I want to take a second to process that, because trauma does NOT equal character development. 

And finally, I want to talk about one of the most casually unsettling parts of the show for me, personally:

Yuri’s teacher notices that she’s distracted and detached. She can’t focus on school. And her assumption?

That she’s thinking about summer vacation. And then, in the very next scene, Yuri asks to quit the alien capturing duties because she can’t take it anymore - and the teacher says THIS.

The hypocrisy and apathy in these two scenes. The way adults pretend they care but also assume every sign of distress means you're just lazy. It’s heartwrenching. Which one is it? Stop relaxing, or don’t be so uptight? It’s maddening to me. To change the narrative to suit your own assumptions about this child because really, Yuri doesn’t have a choice in the matter. And she continues to collapse under the weight of these responsibilities, and continue to be locked into something that she is completely incapable of handling. 

Yuri is so overwhelmed all she can do is shut down and cry and everyone just tells her to get over it like one day she'll snap and do her job no problem like she's not going through the most harrowing shit no one should ever go through ever in their lives. And she ends up screwing up more and more because they keep withdrawing all support to "toughen her up". They NEVER take her seriously, they never let her breathe because she's just a little crybaby girl who doesn't know what's best for her and it just keeps getting worse.

And that’s what is so haunting to me, to see such a common response from the audience watching this same show, to sound exactly like these adults. To take away from the show that Yuri is useless and bratty and should have snapped and fought back at one point, like a main protagonist in a hero’s journey converting their trauma into a badass version of themselves or something. I don’t know, there’s something to be said about how these tone deaf reviews were written and discussed by cis men, while one of the few blog posts I actually liked about Alien 9 was posted in 2021 by two women. There’s a bit of a whiplash to how people received this show on the internet based on who was watching and when.

Anyway, there’s still way more to unpack in terms of the other characters in the show, but I’ll leave it here. Alien 9 in all of its flaws and open-ended questions deserves to be engaged head on. It has its flaws and due to cancellation and budget cuts, was forced to leave on a cliffhanger on its fourth and final episode. A lot was left open. 

But it had a very particular set tone from the beginning, and there was a lot of deliberate intention behind their creative decisions. I’m tired of seeing people say “it’s sooo weird” and “they didn’t know what they were doing” for discussion. It’s definitely a show I keep thinking about on and off again.

[thinkingfandoms]

An accurate list of the best movies I've ever seen

This list also includes reasons that are all too objective and nonsensical. Avoid asking too many questions. And share what you think in the comments!

Hercules

Hercules is probably my favourite Disney movie. And I also think that's where my interest in Greek mythology started. Hades is my favorite villain from this company and he's such a mood.

The Prince of Egypt

Oh dear you don't know how much I love this movie. I know every song by heart and was lucky enough to sing them with my choir. I'm a big fan of animation and despite how old is this movie, I think it remains one of the best ever produced. I cried more times over this movie than over all the others on this list combined.

Friends & Family

I only discovered this film this year but it quickly became one of my favorites. I have never laughed for so many consecutive minutes at a movie. I approached it because it's unusual to see a gay mob-themed movie, but I immediately fell in love with all the characters and the final scene remains one of the most comic I have ever seen.

Treasure Planet

I have a soft spot for animated films about great adventures and self-discovery. Jim has been my only animated crush for years, and his story has always resonated with something inside of me (maybe the desire for adventure and his recklessness, idk). Plus, of course, "'I'm Still Here" is one of the most beautiful soundtracks ever created.

Howl's Moving Castle

One of the first films I saw by Studio Ghibli and my absolute favourite. The love stories created by this Studio are always wonderful, and this one is no different. Plus I always saw myself in Sophie (especially about the crush on Howl) and, well, there's Calcifer, what more do you want?

Les Choristes

Another thing I love: movies about music. It may be that I've been playing an instrument for years and singing in choirs, but I've always cried watching kids rediscover a new side of themselves through music and songs. And these songs are composition's masterpieces. I still remember them all by heart even though French isn't my native language.

A Christmas Carol

I'm slightly obsessed with this story, with Charles Dickens and with Christmas. I was born on Christmas Eve so you can imagine how close this theme is to my heart. I have seen several versions of this story though, and for some reason, this one remains my favourite. It may be that it's different from other more colourful versions and really shows the darkness behind the original story, idk.

How to Train Your Dragon

I literally grew up with this saga: I was 8 years old at the first film, 12 at the second and 17 at the third. I watched Hiccup grow up with me as a friend and Toothless as a fellow adventurer. I'll forever be grateful to Dreamworks for creating the best-animated saga that cinema has ever seen.

The Three Musketeers

This movie is so random that it's perfect. I watched it again recently (after like 8 years) and realized that maybe my daddy issues come from this movie: Luke Evans, Orlando Bloom and the freaking Mads Mikkelsen together, seriously? I'm not surprised it was one of my favourite movies growing up.

A Monster in Paris

The love I have for this film is enormous. I could never get over the beauty of the songs in it. The characters are so well written and Francœur will always be in my top animated characters. It's too amazing to be real.

Rise of the Guardians

I could talk for hours about this film and have not even touched the tip of the iceberg. I have an insane obsession with all the characters, starting with and especially Jack, my top animated crush for years. It's all so perfect that I don't see how people never nominate it when it comes to top animated movies.

The Hobbit

Again, I have serious problems with films about fantasy adventures. I have always preferred The Hobbit saga to its sequel because the story has always fascinated me more. And the main character especially: for me Bilbo >>>> Frodo. And then there's Thorin and Luke Evans. You know, daddy issues.

Mune: Guardian of the Moon

Another French animated movie, another obsession, another adventure, another animated character in my top. This is an example of how to do good animation. There isn't a colour out of place. The settings are authentic, the characters are original, and the adventure they make gets me every time.

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

I'm maybe a Muggle, but I prefer Fantastic Beasts to the Harry Potter saga. That's not to say it's better, mind you, but it reflects me more. We all know how we Hufflepuffs (and Ravenclaws) have no real representation in the HP movies, so to be able to have at least one prequel saga starring a Hufflepuff (in which I also find myself far too much) as the protagonist is wonderful. And I have an unhealthy urge to become a magizoologist.

The Greatest Showman

It's the movie I have watched the most of these. I know every song by heart and every line too. It always manages to be a roller coaster of emotions. And it has Hugh Jackman in it.

The Boy Foretold By The Stars

I'm a big supporter of the Philippine's film company. This is one movie is gentle, funny, and not based on the usual drama between Christianity and LGBT+ people (which is what I thought when reading the plot at first). Moreover, another underrated thing, the Philippines' music company here has thrown in masterpiece after masterpiece of songs, perfect for this movie.

Bros

This is my top comfort film in the last year. It's like watching a Hallmark movie but hotter, much more sincere and gay. Very gay. And the relationship between the two main characters is so cute and sweet. And funny.

Top Gun: Maverick

I love this saga but especially love this particular chapter. I love Maverick and his relationship with Rooster, and all the other characters are so well-written. And don't get me started on the story... I LOVE it. There isn't much else to say except that Cruise is a great actor (and a terrible person).

Glass Onion - Knives Out

I love my silly little gay detective. And I have a little passion for movies and mystery series. I found this saga's chapter more compelling than the first one, and the characters gripped me more. Also I fell in love with the setting. Oh and then there are Daniel Craig and Hugh Grant.

[zahri-melitor]

I was discussing this with a friend of mine and I’d be interested to know your take.

We’re both big comics nerds for the batfam, and we’ve come to the consensus that even with the out of pocket moments, arcs that don’t hold up well(fugitive comes to mind), and the slew of other post crisis issues—We think the best version of the batfam would be right before Damian was introduced.

I know how this makes me sound and I’m not sorry, Tim as robin was great and I loved him as the younger brother of the fam but also not bruce’s son let them be weird friends like before identity cri-

I’m getting off topic. I apologize.

Batfam feels very bloated modern day, and I genuinely preferred when Jason was a crime lord, Dick and Tim were close tightknit brothers. Babs was oracle and Cass was batgirl. I’d want Steph to be alive and not taking cass’s job but one thing at a time. (also tim and cass are lovely as siblings/friends)

What is your ideal batfamily composition, what do you have the most fun with?

And I hope you’re doing well!

Oh here’s a dangerous question.

My favourite period of Bat comics is probably, hmmm, 1996 to 2004. Not only are there some great writers doing work during that period, the family dynamics are interesting and complex because there's fun levels of tension between various members, but also there are almost equal numbers of male and female characters and the women are allowed to be messy and complex and flawed while still heroic. You've got Bruce, Dick, Tim, Barbara, Helena, and Jean-Paul, plus Cass from 1999 onwards, with assistance from Steph, Selina and Dinah to varying degrees.

What characters and dynamics do I find the most fun? Well, I like there to be tension in the Bat family. I like every person in the group to be linked in differently, with different relationships with other members, rather than being "Bruce and his kids". There's this concept I have of what is the 'core' of the Batfam in the period between 1995 and 2009: it's not Bruce, it's actually a trio, consisting of Dick, Tim and Barbara, all of whom who have very strong ties to each other, managing and balancing the rest of the family between them.

Dick manages the broader community ties, rather than the Gotham ones. Dick's the one who all the other families know and are most likely to approach for help; he's got the respect of the Titans but also of the Justice League. Dick is basically the public relations guy standing between the Bats and everyone else.

Tim is the glue of Gotham. Tim knows everyone in Gotham and has teamed up with them at some point and knows how to convince them to come and help out, even if they aren't on good terms with the rest of the Bats, and can force people who are normally opposed to work together. Tim's the reason all the Gotham vigilantes aren't six separate bitter blood feuds or a perpetual mafia war.

Barbara is the expertise. She's not only the coordinator and planner who ensures that everything runs smoothly, who has everyone's contact details and the ability to pull in the specific assistance needed, but she also maintains contacts that still see Dick as 'Bruce's kid' with the way most of the Justice League only are familiar with her as an adult hero. She's got the best JSA contacts via Dinah. She can stand up to Bruce and tell him to back down and pull his head in in a way the other two cannot. And she's the only one of the three who has a proper working relationship with Jean-Paul Valley.

The changes in the Batfamily dynamics by firstly removing Barbara from Gotham, and then adding Jason and especially Damian, forced the shape of the dynamics to centre themselves around "Bruce and his sons" and "everyone else", rather than being a spread network that converged on a trio.

My ideal Batfamily? It's Bruce, Dick, Barbara, Tim, Cass and Damian. While I think that Damian is part of a very clear change of direction in storytelling, I think there are worthwhile stories to tell about his dynamics with the others listed here, and on balance he allows for new directions of storytelling.

(Yes, there's an obvious name missing there. It's deliberate. I remain unconvinced that having Jason around as 'family' is a better use of his character than as a ghost haunting the narrative or, if he must be alive, as an extremely irritating villain)

[podcastenthusiast]

I dunno why I wrote this instead of like a nice lighthearted story about Astarion getting a sunburn or something.

Anyway here's the aftermath of the night Cazador carved the Infernal binding into his back. Lots of sibling interaction.

--

Pain is a strange thing. Given a long enough span of time, it can become almost pleasurable, or at least a neutral sensation. You feel the hot sharp sting of Cazador's blade cut into your back over and over. But you are disconnected, floating above it all.

You're quiet now, tears running down your cheeks. You loathe giving him the satisfaction of seeing you weep but it is beyond your control at this point--an automatic physical response to prolonged, overwhelming agony.

Your body is motionless under his hands. If you move, he will have to start over again.

"I suppose that will do. You may return to the dormitory, boy."

He sounds vaguely disappointed. A poem, he'd told you. Somehow you have failed as a canvas for his artistic mutilation. Too much avoidable editing, perhaps. You wonder why he didn't simply paralyze you, but you suspect he enjoys finding reasons to punish you. Perhaps this was a punishment? Whatever the cause, if any at all, you are relieved to be spared the kennel.

"Yes, Master," a hollow voice replies. You realize it is your own. Just like the blood on the carpet. You wonder if you will be made to clean it later.

Dismal gray light mocks you through the wondows. Dawn. He spent an entire night engaged in bloody composition, your pale skin vellum for his creative vision.

You stagger, legs shaking, to the room you share with your siblings. It is a miracle you manage the stairs without falling. Or you assume you do; there is a momentary lapse of consciousness and you find yourself curled up tightly in a ball on one of the bottom bunks, your back to the wall as if that could protect the tender flesh from anyone wishing to do you further harm.

Yet even in suffering you aren't afforded any privacy. Your sister's soft voice drifts in like the tide.

"My last mark was an alchemist's apprentice. She... well, I have a healing salve. It's yours, if you'd like. I owe you for stitching up my arm."

She is clever to disguise her kindness, although you both know better.

"You're my favorite, Dal," you say, barely more than a whisper. It hurts to speak. Your throat is so raw from screaming.

"Mhm. I need to assess the damage."

You hear Dalyria stifle a horrified gasp when she sees what he did to you. You feel disgusting. Ashamed.

Always a doctor, you think with admiration. It must be nice to know yourself. Your world has become so small, the person you once were such a distant memory.

The brisk professional detachment in her tone is oddly comforting. With great effort, you maneuver yourself onto your stomach. You are already shirtless, which is fine; just the idea of fabric touching your maimed back, or what's left of it, makes you feel a bit faint.

"Brother... gods..."

Her voice sounds brittle, choked: the air of unshakable physician's confidence is suddenly gone. There is only your little sister here, teetering on the edge of tearful. You can't bear it. You've cried more than enough for yourself tonight already.

"Come now, darling, none of that," you soothe, all false cheer. "No sense letting some--frankly probably mediocre--poetry upset you, hm?"

She's seen you wounded before, obviously. They all have countless times. You wound each other and yourselves, on his orders or sometimes just because you csn, because you're starving or viciously bored, and that's only when the master and that bloody skeleton can't be bothered. Dalyria no doubt contended with worse injuries in her mortal life, too. She can bear the sight of your blood easily enough.

Why, then, is this particular instance so different? What does she see etched on your flesh?

"Tell me, Dal, be my mirror. Is it... Am I hideous?" you ask, terrified to lose the one asset of real value you have anymore.

"Of course not, brother," she says. How bizarre it feels for you, an expert in deception, to be the one lied to. "But...this might be beyond a salve."

"Try," you plead with her, hoping it sounds more like a command. You are desperate for any relief from the waves of nauseating pain breaking over you.

"Okay."

The healing salve is cool against your skin and somewhat numbing, easing your aching muscles, but it is not itself magical. The deep cuts do not mend. You suspect Cazador's blade probably was enchanted to prevent effective healing. He wouldn't want to risk having his hard work undone by a pilfered potion.

"It will scar, I'm afraid," she says, as if you aren't painfully aware of that fact.

"As he intended."

She hums whilst she works. Sometimes you like to imagine there are simple things like that Cazador can't take from you all. But the truth, you know, is that he could if he desired it. Could render you mute, mindless thralls if he didn't relish the sound of your screams.

"Oh hells, what's Astarion done now?"

Great. Petras. There is a voice you wouldn't mind never hearing again. Just when you were beginning to believe you might be able to rest a little.

"Shut up," you snap. Your nerves are frayed. He would be wise not to test your extremely limited patience right now.

But wisdom has never been your brother's strong suit.

"Just saying If you didn't give so much lip maybe the master wouldn't have to beat you too badly. Even dogs can learn that eventually."

"Thank you, Petras, as ever a bastion of wisdom," you say through gritted teeth.

"What did you call me?!"

"Enough, you two! Please don't fight," Dalyria begs, like always.

"I deliver twice the marks he does," Petras insists, which you doubt is true given his everything. He'd have to knock out half of his targets and drag them here. "Still struts about like he fucking owns the place only to roll over for the master--"

"Look at him, brother! His back..."

"I'm right here, you know," you say, but it doesn't matter.

Your siblings fall silent. A heavy silence, tomb-like. He has seen Cazador's masterpiece. Finally something shuts him up.

"Oh. Fuck," Petras breathes after a moment. He's verging dangerously on sympathetic. It's too much.

"Damn it, what?! Haven't you ever seen a man flayed before? Is his poetry really that awful? Gods, it's a tasteless limerick, isn't it."

You laugh, bitter and dry, because otherwise you think you'll fall apart. You wish they would all stop looking at you.

"I don't know," your sister says. "I can't read these symbols. Perhaps Aurelia--"

"Must we show absolutely everyone?" you protest.

"Well, I've never seen anything like it," your idiot brother adds unhelpfully. "Seriously, what did you do? Leon, come look at this!"

Wonderful. You're starting to feel like a sick art exhibition. Exposed. It would be funny were it not tragically happening to you. You don't think your siblings would actually harm you in this vulnerable state, not without a direct order. Well, maybe that oaf Petras.

"Master carved him up like a goose," Petras explains to your newest brother once he, too, has beheld the gruesome spectacle that is your tattered skin.

"Why? I mean, there must be a reason. Did you break a rule? Were you caught reading again?"

"He doesn't need a reason," you remind your brother.

Leon is not stupid; he's just scared. He still believes this torture was justified somehow, the logical consequence of failure or willful disobedience, that any sense can be made of the master's capricious moods. He needs to believe it can't happen to him--or especially not his young daughter. You let go of such silly notions a century before Leon was born.

"What does this mean, then?" he wonders quietly. "For the rest of us?"

Even with your face pressed into the pillow, you know what their expectant silence means. They are looking to you for answers. Guidance. How to protect themselves. You understand the master's cruelty as well as one could, having endured his sadistic whims longer than any of them.

"This hasn't ever happened before," you admit. "I don't know why he did it or what he might be planning next. And no, I didn't disobey. I doubt it means anything at all."

"I know what it means."

Violet, right on cue. Mischievous eyes and that stuffed owlbear clutched to her chest, you're certain.

"What?"

"Astar-ion has been cho-sen," your sister declares. Sings, really. Her voice is sickly sweet. Sugar laced with poison.

"Chosen?" Petras scoffs. "Sure. Perks of being the master's special little bitch--"

You spring up from the mattress completely without thought, like you've been compelled to act, but it is only rage driving you to grab your brother by the throat and pin him roughly against the wardrobe. It all happens so fast Dalyria doesn't even scream.

"Say that again," you snarl. "I dare you."

You recognize the briefest flash of fear in Petras' eyes. Perhaps he has a shred of respect for you after all, deep down. He clearly envies you, the deluded fool.

"Get off me!"

He pushes you away from him and, still weak, you stumble and fall flat on your back. Your vision goes white with seering pain; a wretched keening whine escapes your lips. You don't move to get up. You're not entirely sure you could. Dalyria rushes to your side, wringing her hands.

Violet, standing in the doorway, giggles and takes off running down the hall. Petras storms after her, furious, with Leon trailing uncertainly behind them.

Dalyria sighs--such a profoundly tired sound you feel it resonate in your bones.

"You look like a dying animal," she says affectionately.

"I feel like one."

She offers a hand. Helps you up from the floor.

"Ignore him. Please. At least until you heal," she implores you. "I won't have you undoing my efforts. You shouldn't let Petras get--"

"Under my skin?"

"I was not going to say that," she says, glancing away, sheepish. You don't know how she lures anyone back here when she can't lie to her own family.

"You were."

"Was not."

"Were."

"Not."

"Yes."

"No."

You both switch from Common to Elven, then you trip her up with Orcish.

"You're impossible!" Dalyria pouts. But your sister is smiling. A rare sight indeed. You tuck it away somewhere deep within your dead heart, for safekeeping. "Now please rest. Doctor's orders."

You feel cold. Afraid. Slightly delirious with pain and exhaustion, you ask, "What if I'm dying?"

Her expression softens. She isn't smiling anymore.

"You're not going to die," she says. Then, quieter, as you slip away into a trance: "Death is a mercy not meant for us."

[satureja13]

It's been a while since Jeb crushed Sai's world with his revelation. He's avoiding him since and now he fled to the bridge, to fulfill his duty. Rambling about it all with his soulmate Kiyoshi. Jeb: "It was a mistake to start something with him. I'll never be able to live up to his expectations. Should have stayed under that bag and in my garage."

Jeb: "I'll only ever bring him misery and heartache. He'll never be happy with me - and satisfied!" And then he cried again. Kiyoshi: "You know you're the best thing that ever happened to Sai. You got to work on it. No relationship is perfect." Jeb sobbed: "But he deserves it. Deserves better than me - because he is perfect!" Kiyoshi: "You know he's not. Putting him on a pedestal doesn't help either of you. And you know he doesn't like it. This just shoots the expectations in unreachable spheres, hm?"

In the meantime, after their pep talk in Moogie's Bar, not-so-perfect Sai went back to his and Jeb's quarters and locked himself up in the bathroom. To start playing. Because he's a gamer after all! It's now or never.

He picked the smallest of the toys from the latest subscription box and added lots of 'polish'. ... Huh - now that felt weird. Just how the inscription had told him:

'You may feel a little awkward at first but after a few steps you go from beginner to advanced intermediate.'

He just hopes this is true! And he's relieved he doesn't have to experience through this utter awkwardness together with Jeb ö.Ö'

He filled the tub with hot water to soak a bit - and to relax his muscle(s). And to adjust. It's slightly getting better. But still unwonted when he moves. He wiggled a bit to get somewhat accustomed to this. Maybe Jeb was right and they should just continue with all the stuff they usually do? Maybe woohooing just wasn't for them? Each couple is different and they don't necessarily need to do what Jack and Kiyoshi and Ji Ho and Vlad do...

Sai put on a face mask and placed some cucumber slices on his eyes. Eventually he was able to relax and get used to the feeling. It's not that bad actually. And he might have let out a tiny little moan.

And of course that was when Jeb returned to their quarters... and - of course - he heard it. Jeb: "Sai? Are you ok in there?"

Jeb is back already? Sai jumped in the tub, water splashed and electric sparks were tingling up and down his spine from the sudden movement. Sai yelled out in surprise: "Oh gods! Yes!"

Sai cleared his throat, and with a thinner voice he said: "I'm ok!" It was hard to regain his composition and keep himself from getting too excited - but he's determined to save up all these wild sensations for his first time with Jeb. Because, wow! - now he's a believer! Poor Jeb. He's not that dumb and he has a hunch what Sai was doing in there - without him. Because he isn't able to give him what he needs... An ice cold hand was grabbing his heart and squeezed it painfully. Maybe Sai was right and they should just go for it? But how to convince his 'wand'? He utterly refuses to stand up for anything that could hurt Sai...

'I thought love was more or less a giving thing The more I gave the less I got, oh yeah What's the use in trying? All you get is pain When I wanted sunshine I got rain

And then I saw her face Now I'm a believer And not a trace Of doubt in my mind I'm in love I'm a believer I couldn't leave her if I tried'

I'm a Believer - The Monkees

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[enihk-writes]

[日久见人心]

characters: present!chung myung + afab!she/her!reader

baek cheon x afab!she/her!reader (implied and one-sided from the reader's end because they are not the main plot point for this fic lol)

summary: old habits die hard, even when you are born in a new body. to his credit, he does try not to seem like he is the reincarnation of the plum blossom sword saint, but his subconscious actions said otherwise. he didn't think you of all people would notice.

word count: 3.85k

author's note: the phrase 日久见人心 (rì jiǔ jiàn rén xīn) is part of the full saying 路遥知马力，日久见人心 (lù yáo zhī mǎ lì, rì jiǔ jiàn rén xīn) and i vaguely remember it was something my mother tongue teacher back in secondary said we could use in our composition essays or whatever,,,, and recently i saw it on those cringey rise-and-grind motivational crypto bro ig pages my ex-classmates are reposting on their stories which kinda gave me an idea lmao.... anyways the meaning of the quote is that we need to take time to understand a person's character (also the fic is the result of my caffeine overconsumption lol and not related to my previous cmxreader because i needed a break from all that angst romance i've been writing wwwwwwww)

═══════════════

chung myung has been starting to think that you were cut out from the same cloth as yu iseol.

quiet, aloof and always watching.

if someone said that you both were twins, he wouldn't be surprised. but then again, there were differences. the most obvious one was that iseol had more talent with the blade than you did, and the other was that iseol had no talent in actually taking care of herself. you were barely managing, but compared to your senior sister? it was far more decent. the two of you had tang soso to thank for not dying as fast as you could have.

chung myung. bowl.

he looks up to see your hand outstretched, waiting to pick up the empty bowl he'd cleaned off long ago. chung myung grunts and hands it over, propping his arm up and resting his head on it as he watched you go around the dining hall to collect the dinnerware.

you lived in mount hua, sure, but you weren't the fighting sort. maybe because anything you did could get you sick — if the weather dropped or rose a little too quickly, your body would tremble and shiver. did you move a little too much today? did you happen to sleep later than you were supposed to that night? by the next morning you were down with a terrible fever that kept you in your room for the rest of the day. but now that tang soso was here, she would drag you down to the medicine hall, grumbling under her breath, all while you looked at her teary-eyed and apologetic.

maybe it was out of shame or embarrassment that made you try to be yourself useful in other ways, though you would often fail and cause more trouble. everyone would just sigh and pick up after your mess, ushering you out to do something else.

during those days, he'd find you hunched behind the baths, sobbing in frustration. chung myung didn't know what to do or say, he'd always talked more with his fist before his heart, so he'd end up hiding in the trees to watch over you instead. and once you've cried it all out, you would stand, wash your face and go to bed. trying something else tomorrow.

chung myung gives credit where credit was due. for a sickly kid, you sure had a thicker skin than the others.

eventually, you stuck with being the cleaner. your weird, meticulous habits somehow working well in this job. the cups and plates were wiped till it shone, silverware were polished until you could see your own face and that hard-to-scrub dirt on the grout would be pristine and white when left in your hands. chung myung wonders secretly if maybe you'd picked this talent up from that neat freak baek cheon.

what are you thinking about?

he almost hits you out of instinct. you really were cut from the same cloth as yu iseol.

he lets out a shaky breath as he turns to face you, who had been sitting behind him. you look at him owlishly and he would have thought you weren't breathing if not for the movement of your nostrils. crossing his leg over the other, he juts his chin at you in acknowledgement.

what is it?

you're quieter, and thinking a lot more than normal today.

ah... this kid... how does everything that comes out of that mouth sound like an insult? chung myung tries to reign in his short temper, he didn't want to hit a frail person for no reason, and he knows that you just happen to always talk like that.

hm. i was thinking about you.

woah. pervert.

ah... maybe he should hit your head just once. just once and he'll never hit you again.

i'm kidding.

really? were you now?

i'm really kidding, don't go and look like you're going hit me like you do with our senior brothers.

okay, you were off the hook. for now.

hmph. you shouldn't tease your elders.

what elder.

chung myung forgets that you were the same age as him. well, in this body, not spiritually. but if he were to talk about life experience and reincarnation, he was the older one but fuck! you didn't know that! he didn't tell anyone he was the plum blossom sword saint ugh!

chung myung, are you going to have an aneurysm?

shut up!

═══════════════

winter in mount hua was really cold. and chung myung, surprisingly, didn't do so well with the cold. though, he would rather die than let anyone ever find out about that.

he wakes up early to train as usual, but the cold this morning was so biting, he was tempted to just stay in bed, it wasn't easy being an old man. ah, but the other disciples would be celebrating if he didn't appear for morning practice and that was no good. after all, the future of the sect still depended on him, didn't it?

he got dressed and stepped out of his room —

chung myung.

fuck! couldn't you talk to people like a normal person? why do you love to sneak up on people like this? cheong mun sa-hyung please, please, please give him patience and strength.

you look cold.

he was! great observation! chung myung wants to yell that to you with gritted teeth. he was still, unfortunately, very unnerved by how he couldn't feel your presence.

follow me. i have something for you.

you didn't wait for him to reply, instead grabbing his hand as you dragged him to the kitchen. he didn't try to resist, letting you pull him wherever, like a parent going to see what their child just found.

the two of you walk across the training grounds that had been buried under a blanket of pristine snow, the dim light of your paper lantern showing you the way. treading past and leaving two sets of footprints behind.

you push him into the kitchen, hanging the lantern up on a hook in the wall. chung myung notices the fire in the stone stove, you had already started it before going out to find him, probably because you were boiling something in that pot standing over the fire. chung myung sits on the ground, huddling before the blaze, it felt warm and comforting in the kitchen. the sound of water boiling in the pot and the crackling of the charred wood its heat blowing across his frigid face was, unsurprisingly, giving him a boost of energy.

you carefully move the pot to the side, removing the lid to check the contents in it. looking pleased with the result, you take out a bowl still steaming into your hands and placed it on the ground between you and chung myung as quickly as you could.

he looks over curiously. it looked like some kind of pudding, he doesn't think he's seen it before —

it's milk pudding, with lotus seeds and almonds

oh? he pondered, eyeing the bowl as you handed him a spoon.

aren't these ingredients used to make mooncakes?

chung myung asks, folding his arms. he notices that you were avoiding his gaze. don't tell him you...?

did you steal these from the warehouse?

hey! steal is a strong word!

oh i'm sorry, your highness, did you perhaps take the ingredients from the fucking warehouse?

he scoffed mockingly, exaggerating his manner of speech in mild irritation. he laughed at your grimace and pouty expression. ah, he feels like he's making fun of a toddler, he should be ashamed for bullying a kid at his age.

hm, he hasn't done something this juvenile in a long time. it was oddly nostalgic, in a way. he mused, digging into the soft and smooth surface of the pudding with the spoon, trying to scoop up the lotus seeds and almonds in it too.

mmh. 's not bad.

wow, i didn't know you knew how to compliment people

should i take that back then?

i'm sorry.

═══════════════

you had been working hard in cleaning the floors for spring cleaning. but the boys were so heavy-footed and honestly far too uninterested in their surroundings that the well-polished wooden floorboards you were really proud of was always dusty.

should you just barricade the entrance of the dorms until nightfall? just so they wouldn't walk all over your hard work?

you sit on the steps, your hair tied into a scarf, head resting on the propped broom you held between your legs. thinking long and hard over your predicament while looking over at the training grounds where chung myung was drilling down on everyone else.

the sun hung high in the cloudless afternoon sky, its rays casting down on the compound harshly. you were beginning to feel dizzy and closed your eyes, hoping to relieve the pain growing in your head.

you didn't hear anything outside the constant ringing in your ears, so one can only imagine your surprise when the reddish tint you saw while your eyes were closed grew dark.

who?

you cracked open your eyes to try and make out the person standing before you, wincing when the bright light nearly blinded you.

a familiar chuckle graced your ears as the ringing grew quiet. ah, it was senior baek cheon.

he taps the bamboo flask against your forehead, the water in it swishing against the walls. you take it, grateful, chugging down the contents, choking on it a little when a few drops went down the wrong pipe.

hey, hey... slow down... no one's going to take it away from you...

you cough, turning away in embarrassment. baek cheon sits down next to you on the steps, watching your antics in quiet amusement. you didn't want to look at him, not when he was practically topless, with his hair tied up high and swept over his shoulder.

chung myung looks at the scene from afar, not really clocking anything in his mind until he sees the way you were trying to scoot a little further away like a snail touching salt and your hands covering up your cheeks.

oh.

oh?

so you and baek cheon huh?

chung myung feels the cogs in his brain turn. at times like these he wishes he had someone to talk about this with, maybe tang bo. he would have loved to hear about petty gossip like this, and they could have teased the kids like the old men they were.

so you think something is going on between her and baek cheon sasuk too, huh?

jo-gul's voice comes up from behind, and chung myung didn't need to look over to see the guy's eyes trained on his targets.

if you have so much free time to discuss other people's love lives, i think we can continue with our training right, sahyungs?

chung myung called out loudly for everyone to hear.

jo-gul you fucking bastard!

you and your big mouth...

ugh... i can't get up...

the poor guy could only hang his head in quiet embarrassment. baek cheon laughed at the antics of the others, getting up to walk back to the training grounds. but not before he reached out to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

if you're going to rest, do it in the shade. i don't think you want to fall ill again tomorrow, do you?

he asks, and you shake your head in response.

mmh. i'll see you around?

see you...

you wave meekly as he left, your insides going through an entire acrobatics routine. wondering what that short exchange was all about. it couldn't be that he liked you back? or did he catch onto your growing crush? you wanted to throw yourself off the cliff.

═══════════════

i didn't take you for a guy that had habits like this.

chung myung gulped down the last of the warm water in his cup, setting it down on the counter, and looked at you quizzically. your elbows were propped up over the edge of the counter and you were perched on the stool in a rather un-ladylike manner.

it's good for your health you know.

psh... isn't that an old wives tale?

he scoffs and shakes his head.

haah...

he sighs.

the young people these days.

you look at him, head tilted in confusion. humming for a bit, you let your thoughts simmer before you decided to pose the question.

hey, why'd you speak like that?

chung myung pauses.

like what?

you know... like an old man?

he sucks in a quick breath. there was no way you of all people would have figured it out, right?

he felt like he was spiralling into a bit of a panic.

hey.

you snap your fingers in his face, moving to stand beside him while he was deep in thought.

earth to chung myung?

he looks at you.

he takes a good look at you.

you were not the brightest bulb in the bush, or however that saying goes, at least when compared to him. there was no way you connected the dots and figured out he was the plum blossom sword saint. yeah, this was for sure a case of the right formula and the wrong answer.

he had to divert your thoughts before you start to think deeper.

i think i hear baek cheon sasuk coming over.

huh?

it was your turn to panic a little, and he darts out of the kitchen to escape what would have been your incoming torrent of scrutiny. you realise just then that you had been completely bamboozled by the bastard chung myung.

running to the door, you yell out a string of curses at the run-away instigator. ah, your blood pressure...

═══════════════

you think chung myung might have been raised by old people. because there was no other plausible reason that he acts the way he does.

sometimes he walks with his hands behind his back, and while most people your age would stand straight and position their arms in a stiff way, chung myung puts his hands on his lower back — like he was supporting it. you know who else does this? the sect leader and the other elders. and it doesn't help his case that he was always slouching a little.

another thing you notice was how his taste in food was a few notches blander than the rest of you. he wasn't fond of anything too salty or sour or anything undercooked. he'd always pick out the softest parts of any cooked meat, saying it was the juiciest, which was somewhat believable. but then wasn't it also nearest to where the animals organs used to be before it was gutted? wouldn't it taste bitter?

speaking of bitter, chung myung liked to eat food that made you squeamish. he'd nag at the nutritional value of them and when nobody wanted to try it out, he'd mumble something about kids these days not knowing what's good for them and scarf it down by himself.

that was another thing about him, why was he always calling you a kid when you were the same age as him? it wasn't that big of a deal for you. but calling the other seniors kids? you wondered if it was his way of showing his martial superiority in a twisted way, or if it was another underlying reason.

surely, it must be because he was raised by the elderly.

god, you were so smart, weren't you? connecting the dots like that?

═══════════════

chung myung was sure you were dropped on the head as an infant.

you had cornered him in the toilets. broke down and the door and everything, just to ask him who he was raised by. it was ridiculous, the scene that was folding out right then and he chooses to ignore that your weak body had somehow broken down a fucking wooden door. he has to ignore that, for his own sanity.

you were on the walls, hands clawing and feet digging on the rough surface. chung myung shirks away, exasperated. somewhere in the afterlife, he thinks he could hear the loud cackle of his friends at his predicament.

chung myung.

he tries to evade eye contact.

chung myung.

oh man, look at that spider on the ceiling spinning a web.

hey where are you looking? i'm over here.

he finally looks at you turning his head slowly.

uh... i think... you might be a bit too close...

a bit too close was a forgiving statement. your head had craned forward far enough that your face was almost less than a centimetre away from his.

you lean back at his reply. still not keeping your eyes off him. after all, he still hadn't answered your question.

you know that i'm an orphan... right?

yeah. so am i.

i wasn't raised by anybody...

oh.

you step back, pondering for a moment. chung myung feels the breath he was holding leave his lungs. you caused him so much anxiety. remember when he thought you were cut from the same cloth as yu iseol? he stands corrected, but you were insane in the opposite direction.

okay. so who raised you?

chung myung feels his eye twitch. why were you asking the same thing? he already told you!

i'm telling you—!

nuh-uh. that's not what i want to know. i want to know if you grew up with old people.

then you should have asked that from the beginning!

i panicked, okay?

he sighs, deeply, and covers his face in his hands. he feels his miraculous second life leaving his body at this exchange.

to answer your question. no, i didn't.

huh. i see.

you answer simply.

chung myung peeks at you through his fingers, surprised at your unusual silence. you, on the other hand, had grown more confused by his answer. if he hadn't been raised by the elderly, then how would anybody act the way he did? not to mention, he had knowledge of niche historical facts that nobody other than a person living in that time would have known of.

can i go now?

huh? oh yeah... sure...? oh! wait—!

you had answered too absentmindedly! you weren't done questioning him! shit! the slippery bastard had gotten away!

you jog out the door, only to bump into someone when turning a corner. a pair of arms catch you from falling. looking up you were met with baek cheon's worried gaze, which morphed into confusion when he realized at the same time as you did that you had ran out of the boys' toilets.

uh... wait... i can explain...

you wondered if a lighting bolt could strike down in broad daylight.

═══════════════

you were sulking in the kitchen.

the guy you had a somewhat infatuation with caught you in an embarrassing moment. you had convinced yourself all chances you had with him were ruined. this was all chung myung's fault. every time you had the slightest inconvenience you would secretly curse him out a little in your heart. you used to feel bad when you still had a working conscience, but not anymore though.

speak of the devil, and he comes walking in.

chung myung came in to ransack the cellar behind the kitchen for wine. he had been craving it for the past few days after his own stash ran out. he had waited for everyone else to be asleep before sneaking in as quietly as he could.

so one can only imagine the shock he felt, even though he swears he had already seen it all, when he finds your shadowy figure sitting crossed-legged on the counter and your two eyes staring right back at him in the darkness.

keugh—!

chung myung bites back a scream. fuck! can he please have one, one. peaceful day where you didn't fuck around with his psyche?

you didn't know he was coming in so soon. but you didn't care much since you had something to give him anyway.

shoving the lacquer box engraved with floral designs into his chest, you motion for him to take a look inside. chung mying complied, hesitantly lifting off the lid to find rows of thin mooncakes, without the egg yolks probably, and another layer under that was filled with a flaky-looking biscuit.

it's called tau sar piah.

he hums, taking the round ball out to inspect it. shrugging, he popped it into his mouth and chews down on the pastry. the flavour, it was familiar. he thinks, was it—?

dried mung bean paste?

you nodded, grinning.

what's this for though?

don't tell me you forgot.

forget? what did he forget?

it's your birthday you goon. well, in a few hours but still.

oh. he had forgotten, momentarily. you really were a good kid, remembering this old man's birthday and making something for him. shit, chung myung thinks he might tear up. was this what it was like to have grandchildren? he thinks he understands why cheong mun sa-hyung might have suggested he take on disciples of his own, or well, trusted him enough to babysit the children of the sect back then. ugh, he was a grandfather after all, and you were somehow his most troublesome child.

he sniffles. closing the lid on the box and grabbing the wine. well, it would be lonely to eat all of this on his own, and waking up the others would be too much of a hassle. suppose you would make do as his drinking buddy tonight. hooking an arm under your knees, he slings you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. the other grabbing the food and drink.

he jumps on the roofs until he brings you to a spot where the moon felt the closest. he drops you on your feet as you balance yourself on the uneven shingles. chung myung plopped down, leg crossed over the other, as he began to down the wine straight from the bottle.

he hands you the lid of the box, picking out the mooncake and biting into it.

wow. tastes kinda ass.

ugh, ungrateful much?

i never said i wouldn't eat it.

can't you just say your appreciation like a normal person?

a pause.

...thank you.

chung myung replied in a softer voice.

hmph. see? that wasn't so hard?

you huffed, teasing him.

chung myung only scoffed and rolled his eyes.

the night drudged on, and you spent the time talking about everything and nothing. things that happened that week, gossip you've heard, events that had happened in the past, antics of the other sect members...

chung myung feels his eyelids grow heavy. was it alright to rest his grieving heart for a while on his birthday? cheong mun sa-hyung and the others' surely wouldn't mind.

and as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, your voice quips up.

hey, do you think i should confess to sasuk?

psh—!

chung myung spits out the wine in his mouth, choking on the liquid that went up and out his nose. it felt as though he was vomiting out blood from that question alone.

you were really his most troublesome kid.

[serenelia]

ᴘᴇʀᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇ

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Content includes: SFW, mentions of fire and explosion, pair of Kokomi and reader (who is named as "the scholar" in this fanfic), use of non binary pronouns.

Scroll away if you do not entertain fanfics of Kokomi, slow burn, and a multi-chapter series. next part

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

In the southern side of the ethereal island of Watatsumi, home to the faithful followers of the deceased god, Orobashi, where the hushed steps of the roaming scholar are lost amidst the ruffle of the trees, its colorful environment proving to be a raring view amongst the people who have yearned to visit, the lush pink grass taking sprouts in the ground along with the miniature flowers, nuzzling itself to its own kind in a comfortable embrace, tended carefully by the crashing waves of the endless surrounding sea, a constant looming threat to the vulnerability of the island, the residents offer tender smiles as if to appease its ever-changing emotional state. The delicate graze of the wind against their skin sends an unwarranted chill to their spine, a reminder of the lack of layers worn, free from the uniform provided by the Akademiya, only to be proven uncomfortable with its absence.

The moon reflects a soft glow on the horizon, and only the dim light provided by the numbered street lamps allows the scholar to navigate their way towards the designated area for departure. It’s undeniable that their stay here has been a memorable one, if one excludes their main reason for travel is the gathering of participants. Yet they could only wish to prolong their stay; any effort made to fulfill it will only brand them as a fool for believing the pathetic excuse of “stress” will cause any form of sympathy to take root in the professor’s heart. The deadline of their research is nearing, being the perfectionist of a scholar they are, their attention is wholly focused on completing the assigned tasked. Any desire they possess will always be placed at the bottom.

Despite being limited, it has proven to be a sensible use of time to break free from the clutches of the scorching weather of Sumeru. No matter how temporary, being void of the irritable faces from their class does well for their health. The scholar hums at the thought, their humor crowned to be of taste by their own self.

As the miscellaneous voices of the resident’s echo throughout their mind, so does the inexhaustible confession of love conserved by said people towards their home. Any question they had voiced brought forth such feelings into their answer; it rings continuously in their mind, a memorable point to be made in the final results of their survey.

They gaze out into the waves below; the crunch of grass beneath their feet, followed by a pitter-patter of water, causes a shift in their gaze and lands on their shoe, now containing a sparse stain. The soil, although beautiful in color, was almost the opposite in terms of conditions. It’s waterlogged. In hindsight, it appears to be a momentary issue born from the recent cries of the sky; the questions were unnecessary, and the rationalization was obvious by itself.

How wrong everyone was to declare such.

Perhaps the old behavior in their previous Darshan is simply influencing them once again; they weren’t alien to other subjects of research, thus why they somehow were able to cover a topic about the elements affecting domains to the governance in Inazuma. That, however, does not validate their undying curiosity for the plant life in Watatsumi.

And before they knew it, the scholar’s heart thrummed with excitement as they humored themselves with a glimpse of its possible chemical composition, overriding the previous rush concerning their destination, now tucked away at a corner in their mind.

The rapid pace in their walking turns into slow strides. With a hand to their chin, they spot a peculiar-looking state of land; holes are evenly distributed along the ground; a scarcely made cross wearing a blue piece of clothing and a straw hat stands at the far side; they blink. Was this supposed to be a farm land of some sort? Realization, together with mild surprise, fades into a wry frown, it brings them to stop moving completely in order to evaluate the poor use of the land. A simple touch of their hand brought it to its doom; not a single shred of activity to be found.

The rotting corpses of the vegetables were all drained of color; an awful stench fills the air if they as much as make an attempt to venture further inside, preventing them from satisfying their wish to evaluate the work done. Afar, not much was fit for judgement, apart from the obvious signs of pre-existing edits of the human hand, which were the reason for its pitiful state. The economic impact of the island was never something that troubled the residents; any consideration in advancing such is unconsidered, partly because of the ill-conditioned land they possess and finding the prices and value of the special sango pearls produced by the island enough to supply.

So why engage in the half-baked farm? An attempt to broaden their resources and fit themselves the title of independence that served no purpose at the end? Further houses make a stable town if, that is, they have seen the foundations of the houses built, suitable for the area right above the village. A deafening crash of the water made them reconsider; perhaps it is unfit for the uncertainty the sea holds.

One of the things the island considers itself high in is quality presentation, supported by the boastful voices of the people. It’s a wonder why this common choice of a location for leisure walks remains to contradict the magnificence Watatsumi constantly emits.

The similar case in Tatarasuna flashes in their mind upon further speculation. The scholar couldn’t resist the sigh that escapes their mouth; a scowl firmly forms on their face at the obvious answer.

Another scholar had chosen Watatsumi Island as their research point—research or thesis? They hardly care. It wasn’t particularly an odd choice, in fact, they’ve recalled a group of their kind discussing it before. The decision to leave this mess brings a sour taste to their mouth.

That is to say, it is merely a speculation; nothing can be dictated holding a tone of sincerity if other factors aren’t considered. The probability of it being true wouldn’t be surprising at the least, much like the other events when the scholar’s intuition and logic prove them to be a trustworthy source of reference.

They shake their head; it’s important to be reminded of their departure as the desire to investigation resurfaces. The precautionary decision of advancing their items ahead and their leave at the temporary residence they resided in do wonders for the distractible scholar; the formerly mentioned rush is a byproduct from their previous experiences.

It dawns on them the calculation of the remaining ground they have to cover in order to arrive, the destination becoming more further than they initiated, if one considers their limited attention span. A simple, unkempt flower entertains them greatly, especially now that the very place they stand on is undeniable in its beauty.

The scholar’s attention swiftly maneuvers itself onto the neglected scene presented beyond the occasional jellyfish-shaped bubbles rising from the grass and the luscious bushes that hide the magnificent view of the famous shrine, which stood in the middle of the island to gloat its dominion over all. The eerie quietness of it all effectively produces dopamine within the harassed mind of the scholar.

A sense of longing tugs at their heart at the sight, a rare feeling to be felt if one were residing in the cramped rooms of the Akademiya, yet nothing can be done except tear their eyes away and resume the journey.

The exceptional sensation of relaxation causes Kokomi to heave a euphoric sigh of relief at the sound of her bones cracking upon stretching her fatigued arms. The lack of warmth on the wooden chair prevents the experience from gaining her an extra energy point even at the hidden cove of her own, shouldering the peace and solitude of the esteemed Divine Priestess away from prying eyes that demand attention.

The day had drained her of energy—a remarkable amount at that. Her previous strategy of retreat inside the imagination the books on military prowess provide displayed ineffectiveness, much to her dismay. A carefully taken nap would recharge her significantly; only the continued onslaught of scheduled meetings and scripted directives plaguing her delayed her rest. Even so, being the master tactician she naturally is, her previous self had anticipated problems like this and readily prepared another way to ease her nerves.

Hence why she finds herself in front of the ocean after making multiple detours in order to escape the residents, the darkness of the night, and the bustle of soldiers aiding the tired girl. With her head held high as the refreshing air tickles her skin, the tension previously in her shoulder’s melts away along with the exhale let out to resonate with the wind.

As if sensing the Priestess’ distress, the waves offer comfort through its gentle caress to her ankles at her approach, inviting her in subtly. In a hidden rush, Kokomi takes careful steps into the cold water until she has fully submerged herself, accustomed to the temperature. The recognizable drop in gravity as her lungs grow accustomed to entering another world, just after trespassing the fine line above forged by the gentle waves, does she gaze upon the flamboyant environment hidden under the blue blanket it grows in.

            A wealth of rocks and corals sprout in different widths and lengths from the sandy ocean floor; the grass is no different from the appearance in her home; on the contrary, most of it is pigmented in the pastel pink and streaks of purple that paint her island. It’s bustling with activity; a hurricane of fish filled with its own breed leave no holes as to escape the lingering predators; an unsuspecting alga begun to cover the cracks of the broken home of a colony even at the expense of it swallowed by; sharks circling one another to assert dominance over a freshly caught prey; a squid stretching out its tentacles to capture an escaping crab, hidden in its shell; the shaky lines formed on the floor made home by the rays hiding beneath; as the current pulls a couple of them along with her; a few oysters retreat in their perspective shells at her passing, threatened by a larger body floating by.

Every aspect of the lively ocean does good to bring a smile to the Priestess’ face. The conflict over the failed attempt at negotiation for further opportunities for her homeland pales in comparison upon seeing and realizing how little it all appears to be in the face of the broad ocean. A sense of infatuation warms her chest. It’s always a wonder to be reminded of how much clarity the ocean holds, how insignificant everything seems to be if she were to take a moment to step back from her title and appreciate a brief yet enamoring moment of serenity.

            Kokomi swims further out until she reaches nearly the edge of her island. A couple of fish who were familiar with her have followed her into the murky depths, where the numbing cold of the water transforms into a chill in her marrow. A few had left, not without a reason to.

A group of them had begun to swarm around her after she pressed her knees against her chest, closing her eyes and focusing on the cold embrace the ocean comforted her with. She sneaks a peek at them, noting how similar yet different they all are.

Every one of these small beings all have their own intimate lives, just as any living being does; a direction walked by their own, each with a will to follow. A will that must be respected, no matter how insignificant it seems, as no matter how much people fixate about their own dilemmas, nothing in this world is truly eternal.

She holds a hand out, met by a certain number of fish whirling away in a panic; the ones who stayed only humored her hand briefly before swimming by her again.

Only the will and aspirations of humanity can withstand the erosion of time.

Something massive looms over her head in that moment, blocking the little light shined by the moon and causing a sudden shift in the water, raising the alarm of every fish near her and including her as well, only for her to dismiss it just as quickly at the realization it was merely a whale. It lets out a bellowing moan, and Kokomi smiles. It’s fascinating to her to think that so much is hidden, a language limited to the creatures, one that humans could only wish to understand, is completely available at all times, yet it remains to be a mystery. It holds information crucial to giving meaning to endless questions, even to irrelevant ones.

But then again, is any knowledge irrelevant?

In the thick of the cold and deeps depths of the ocean, a distant, muffled sound piques Kokomi. She was careful in turning her head to the origin of the sound; it’s peculiar, it most definitely doesn’t belong to any sea creature, and it’s unlikely for any monster to venture this far out into the ocean.

            She kicks her feet and floats upwards, her company following shortly until most of them take an interest in the larger mammal; no other fish was willing to accompany her once she was near the surface. The indistinguishable sound grew louder and clearer, taking the familiar form of human voices, making a ruckus. It was only then that she had noticed the ship entering the territory of Watatsumi; the larger body of the whale had blocked her vision from ever noticing it.

She wasn’t daring enough to make an appearance outside of the water, so she settles just far enough to make no clear reflection yet provide herself a view of the crewmen aboard along with the ship itself. It’s shape and the banner it holds are the ones built in Inazuma, though smaller than most boats she normally sees ashore, lit by small lanterns. Only the crew onboard seem to wear colorful outfits, with nothing to cover their stomach area, a particular uniform she has no knowledge about, and a closer inspection would be unwise.

            The possibility of the Fatui making an attempt to regain influence over Watatsumi Island seems plausible enough, taking into consideration the limited knowledge they had over the supplies they had given for free and a desperate time it was. This was quickly refuted, however, as it was unlikely. The defense deployed by her General was effective against their agents posted previously.

Targeting their island repeatedly would present itself as a desperate move for the island’s natural resources, that being mostly their renowned sango pearls, she finds it hard to believe it would validate the stain in their image after.

            But before she is able to ponder more, the volume of the men has increased, panic-stricken by the sounds of it. By what? She couldn’t pinpoint. And so, she focuses intensely on the possible words being conveyed with the best of her ability, only able to make out a string of shrieks and a few mentions of sharks and shoot.

It dawns on her a moment too late, and a loud groan rings loudly in her ears before she can register anything else. Her hands went to cover her ears, eyeing the ship with furrowed brows. She will not tolerate any disrespect to the sea creatures she so adores!

            She was quick to resurface herself, not paying any attention to the cold breeze that greets her. The hydro vision gifted to her by the Greater Beings glows on her chest upon activation. Kokomi steadies herself on the surface of the water, taking a glance at the whale from before as a flash of light whooshes by to her horror.

Another much louder groan was elected by the whale, spots of blood colored the natural blue of the sea, an arrow’s burnt tip stuck out from it, fueling the rage felt by the Priestess.

            She strides towards the ship, raising her hand, “Halt-!”

Suddenly, a fire-tipped arrow lodges itself on the delicate wood of the ship, and it erupts in flames, causing screams of terror that are not excluded to the people on board. Kokomi made a dash towards the fire, growing worse and absorbing the entire ship in the few seconds it took for her to robe herself in her ceremonial garment. Cold sweat drips down her back as her steps grow more desperate to reach it.

            From a distance, she can see most of the people jumping down on the other side of the ship, while others try to extinguish the fire swallowing the ship or find some items to salvage.

Dread fills her like never before. “Get off! Get off the ship and jump in the water!”

Kokomi yells, to her best effort, short instructions to get them to safety, but it fell on deaf ears from an explosion on the side of the ship, breaking it in half. Silhouettes of men are flung out high in the air before ending up crashing into the ocean. She was only able to save a few with help from her jellyfish summons, softening their land.

            She takes them further away from the ticking ship and nearer to shore; it will be a lengthy journey, though the act of healing them now would drain her of much energy to maintain her robe, so she held back on the idea, choosing a selected few of the critically injured to give ample treatment for now.

Her eyes are easily directed to the queer clothing of the amateur sailors; a variety of white, red, black, and grey are distributed among their clothing. It is a light yet durable fabric, seemingly suited for an arid climate. A shared trait among them, no matter the gender, is a red band covering their eyes.

            They seem to originate from a distant region, a far cry from the isolated region of Inazuma. Yet for what purpose is their arrival at such a late time?

The ship fully explodes in the background, snapping her out of her thoughts for the moment. She’s sure this will alert the soldiers already, especially her capable General; it’s only a matter of time before her questions will be answered.

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3k words and made in a matter of 3 weeks... The title was on purpose btw. Working on the next chapter as we speak, I hope I can finish it before school pulls me back in. Hope you enjoyed reading it. Any form of support keeps me motivated, so don't be shy in spamming if you wish.