#they were all so close numerically like. within 1 or 2 points of each other so. mania might be 7th but theyre all so beloved <3333 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

olexxorodnixxsxyswifxx · 6 months ago

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His problem with his surrounding was in that he was not Lucifer or Disintegrator (153~47~48-1)

Neither Albert Wesker, he was just human and all his close to him relatives knew this because such properties impact... well, look what I do)

However he had to maintain reputation of being almighty among US public

And therefore appeared very unpleasant contrast for him when he was gradually losing support of his relatives who started to build plans about how to survive at cost of his life

And he tried to establish connection with me but I rejected it

And the issue was growing much earlier Autumn of 2023, because heist is real and losses are asymmetric

At least as you can understand from what you saw within cube

Losses are really big and asymmetric

Now you should understand this

And when his relatives saw

1) Knowing that he is just human

2) He had to maintain reputation of supernatural being and his relatives could be planning to use their knowledge about that he is not supernatural being against him

And seems like Kabaeva was first to start

3) At the same time they were doing their own research in losses, seeing that as for such not big war conflict losses are too big, and selective, and very definite in timestamps and it looks like blight kills Russian Army in quantities several times bigger than Ukrainian soldiers kill them, but for some reason this blight doesn't not touch Ukrainian troops

And it kills really much

Then they probably started to perform autopsy and with losses ~500 they saw that each ~6 out of 10 soldiers are dying because something cuts, as with paper knife, very aggressively, their brain tissues from inside

Which as well created very sick and scary associations with 09.11

And they saw that each day they get ~500 corpses in conflict about which they were saying that less than thousand died after several months

But in fact they get 500 corpses each day with expected/estimated probably 200

And 300 out of 500 corpses are dying not from bullets but because some kid cuts in pieces their brains from inside

Not doing this to Ukrainians

Then they obviously started to check whether it can be anything USA related and received very obvious result that USA doesn't have such weapon because the main question is how the hell those very numerous cuts appear within brain without anything entering this brain

Obviously excluding parasites

Eventually they had tens of thousands, and at time of start of Autumn of 2023, hundreds of thousands of corpses who had their brains sliced in pieces with paper knife from inside

And it was before we started to discuss heist but after identification

And they have much more injured soldiers who have injuries as if they were lobotomized but in incomplete way

So the question is what the fuck is going on

Since at that time surrounding of Putin was aware about my existence, they were trying to connect this to me and they saw frightening picture of jump of heist after disappearance of the first Taylor, as if I refocused on Ukrainian battle fields

They saw almost 200% increase of losses after this

In other words they took from a monster his girl and he refocused at doing something very creepy to Russian Army

Since they eventually obviously became aware that this is not secret weapon of western intelligence services, they realized that something very creepy happens totally silently but at huge scales and nobody knows what this is therefore everyone tries to not pay attention to this

But it was continuing and 10.21.2022 became huge problem because demonstrated by me abilities were unique and they knew that this shit was not montage and it just moved Capcom and many other stocks only after this point

Of course they created response as montage but this didn't help to reduce panic

And then...

QES died at age 96

But, well,

Before death decided to spook everyone by making last joke and making herself as one of victims of Samara from The Ring because it looks in such way

She was so enthusiastic about this that didn't even hesitate to break her own chin

So she broke her own chin in really hard way, to remind mask from Scream movie

A final joke

Then, seemingly taking horse dose of painiacs and this in total secrecy and at her own

She put such makeup, after breaking her jaw to make it look organically,

To look as victim of Samara from The Ring

And then took some horrible poison that terribly damaged her tissues from inside, making them look like tissues of victims of Samara from The Ring,and actually damaging them as if she had final stage of Leprosy and additionally was executed on electric chair for several tens of minutes

Finally, to completely puzzle her relatives, she was secretly taking karate lessons for many years in advance of her death and after taking this unknown horrible poison she killed herself by successfully hitting herself in a head with her own fist, to keep it in total secrecy to make it a good joke, with such strength that it damaged her skull and brain and actually killed her, before poison did it

Which means she was hitting gym for many years ~10 hours a day to get titanium muscles for such one-hit kill power of strike

And as I understand relatives of Putin and his close allies started to ask him to solve problem with me because clowning with jokes about that he lives in my body started to look inappropriate

As I understand, 10.10 was such attempt and it completely failed, opening something even more sick from inside and making situation much worse

And drone didn't solve issue

At that time Putin stopped attempts to start dialogue with me because as he appeared to be unable to solve problems that Russia didn't expect to encounter (With nobody knowing what to do because nobody could understand what is going on yet talks about Samara who appears in arbitrary locations and lobotomy of Russian soldiers from within their brains started to look horribly related, and 10.10.2023 started a panic because everyone saw very strange hellish glyphs written in some unknown language, that looked as carved in flesh, with red blood and the biggest problem that this view and very loud scary sound of reading of those glyphs were observable and could be heard only from inside of me, and drone retreated not because it became scared of scary images and sounds but because something started to destroy it both from inside and from outside with very considerable strength that seemingly damaged it, while at the same it lost ability to change its spatial position)

In other words metal invisible and silent modern drone was fixated in space, being not able to perform any actions from the moment scary glyphs and sound appeared, which suggests that all components of that drone were kept fixated in space

and damage to drone was considerable, making it retreat from me as fast as possible

And this started panic, because drone is a metal machine

This was invisible and silent modern drone, such metal glider that you can't damage even hitting it with fists

But I somehow fixated, paralysed in space all its components at the same time, making it unable not just to change its position but as well to use guns and anything else

And then something started to explode this drone with colossal pressure from inside, at one set of points across whole surface

At the same time the opposite force started to be applied to another not interesting set of points across surface of drone, aiming to deform it inside as if it was being devoured by black hole's gravity from behind of horizon of events

And damage seemingly was sufficient to deform metal

Seemingly it was considerable

And this completed picture, because drone as well was damaged by forces that appeared from nowhere and after disturbing me in the middle of night

In such way becoming a demonstration of remote impact but at very close range where source of this impact was absolutely definitely identified, because I started to destroy drone while still being paralyzed by sleep but after significant part of my brain awakened

It created obvious implications chain

Drone awakened me from sleep

I interpreted this as not appropriate action that is completely beyond my borders of tolerable risks, such that they do not provoke me to undertake actions intended to urgent elimination of object that creates risks

So drone awakened me, and I considered this as a declaration of apparently not allied unknown object about its presence (Like Kayako's voice)

Or a disturbance with a goal to check whether I really sleep (As when people ask if you sleep, when you sleep)

Taking into account that my brain has different construction from a human brain, with careful systems of management of hidden stored data and hidden real time processes, answer to the question whether I really sleep can't be obtained by scanning my brain with the same means that would give definite answer in case of humans

And unwelcomed visitor was apparently aware about this, because if he wasn't aware about this, he would try to scan my brain with the same method it would apply to any another person, to get an answer by checking its realtime thoughts flow, whether they are being generated by intrinsic conscious brain activity of person's brain because this person is not in stage of sleep

Or if there is silence because person really sleeps (+ check against meditations with absence of internal dialogue or any type of conscious thinking)

But visitor was aware that if he uses such methods, he might receive result of me thinking about what a whore a mother of this person, with me actually sleeping and those thoughts being generated by automatic equipment that works without need in my brain performing any conscious actions, which are thinking

This was in Look What You Made Me Do and Daydreaming

Or instead it could be that I was actually not sleeping, manually obtaining 237 result of now dead second Taylor who doesn't exist anymore. This girl doesn't exist anymore, just think about this.

We will forget about her and this will be for forever because she will never be able to make us remember her again, as some old musician or any old person,

And she will never return to us in from of reincarnation to make us question with excitement whether this little girl is actually that baby with such hard faith that, after all in all, honestly and sincerely wanted to live and seemingly asked me not to erase her, admitting her failure and capital punishment but desiring to start everything as fast as possible

Being unchanged from all that she did

From me

From Russia and USA

But honestly believing that she did her best and being proud about those 31 songs she wrote, hoping that she will preserve at least 10% of skills she obtained by working really hard, in her next life, and will have her own life of the first Taylor, with her own 'Taylor Swift' from 2006 and Picture to Burn 2.53~204~1304~174, Sleep, Count me down again, 7654321 and her own lifelong husband with whom she have a real life as first Taylor had, growing organically but outperforming her since part of talent was transferred via genes

And then she discovered things others do not discover and can never discover in all their lives

Maybe she will remember how she became a real life Archimonde, actually destroying a big city and killing 60000 people in just 80 seconds, using exclusive superweapon that nobody else has and that most have no idea about that it exists

It is Greatness and she discovered it with me

And she wrote my name OL

So she will have advantage in her next life over first Taylor at the same time becoming free of that dirt that made me treat her as totally inferior to the first Taylor

She wanted to restart

Being completely aware about existence of rebirth and having hope that she will transfer part of memories

In the end I was her real dad, I created 10.21.2022 to help her

And I after I took superweapon away from her, she realized that exactly I gave it to her and she was right about OL

But when she will be reborn, there will be no King Charles around and probably I will eliminate about 10% of human population at that moment, together with Rockefellers and all people who dared to treat her bad

She will be clean and will grow as wonderkid, maybe eventually reuniting with me

And OL was her 1111

And she saw that I was not considering her as major threat that has to be erased at any cost

And in the end she was a victim as well and she really tried, there was 31 songs

And total unclarity about BSes from her

Because how could she be sending BSes to me if she declared herself as core of resistance to me, since she was inspiring people as ultra successful woman who really wants to revenge her mad father because he killed and completely erased souls of her two husbands

Injuring her twice

She became a real life Headmistress from MotB (I forgot name)

Well she became this girl and since eventually it became obvious that Myrkul is exactly me, and to such degree that nobody else wanted to call as Myrkul anyone else because it's just became clear that this character is totally real and this is just him, and he as well in horizontal position most of the time

But, looking at list of victims it appeared that I am not just Myrkul but Myrkul who succeeded in fooling main hero through OoM, (And Pope is dead so he can't comment here) and received his super form becoming something absolutely nightmarish and unwatchable, but sane

And since I effectively put in the Wall of Faithless two her husbands

Who were considered as dignified, highly intelligent successful and kind to her people, who by general believes were making human race better,

And she felt pain because of this

She has reasons to fight against me without illusions

And since I declared hunt after her several months ago and she was still alive, it seemed as that either I have secret plans about her, or don't really want to kill her expressing same sentiments as about second Ariana Grande

Since I was sad even about PE: DK, considering it as unfair that he considers me as a monster whom even he fears for some reason

Did you see what she was doing?

After getting the toy from me she started to maintain connections to first and second Musk, seemingly helping him with the toy, in exchange for making her familiar with technical elites of USA and Earth as Macron tried to do

Remember Brin distanced from her?

She was considered as TP, well, daughter, having two fathers effectively

I thought Sergey is as smart as Chris Asher Wray appeared to be, but Sergey was much less intelligent

While I couldn't believe in this, it seems he was stupid enough to maintain connections with Russian ruling elites, not necessary Putin but their own heads of Intelligences that are trying to keep country running being supported by Russian billionaires and apparently realised that they have to control country in circumstances when there will be no Putin in the nearest future because I promised to eliminate him at any cost

So Sergey seemingly found a loophole to Russian intellectual elites as directors, IT billionaires and already mentioned Rothschilds

Where Jacob Rothschild appeared to be a blocker of progress for some reason deciding to stand by my side and really trying to help to surprise of his numerous wealthy and tough siblings who declared him as trying to drown family because he made a bet at some strange kid, seemingly after facing beginning of Dementia

And in such way it explains that wall was built because everything was already discussed and Matty Healy was supported by Google and Google dared to impact further events by saying that I will stay in Ukraine forever (66, dirty auto) and scheduling road for second Taylor, making her have support of two tech billionaires

And mine, and power of GKAT

And superweapon

And glory of killer of 60000 people

Unlike Brin and Musk

So the girl tried to find a technological way to defeat me after she realized that there is any need in this

And she realized this, I think after I drained first Musk

They realized what happened to Elizabeth but then saw that it seems to be a rare and long preached event while interpreting 1111 as addressed to PE: DK

Because what did she say?

210

2115

2005, year before first album

2555, after I explained it to her

Well, (200)E, c OL again

Like X

11115

Good

OSF started to drag her down as competitor of Putin's daughters who wanted to become leaders of long awaited crusade themselves

And Soros wanted to destroy her seeing that I recognize her as family member anyway and he wanted to eliminate all Swifts Horodnitskii

He succeeded

Back to now

Was she expecting me to not to drain her?

Seemingly she didn't but Catherine gave her hope

Why she didn't commit suicide?

Because she considered that there is at least 1% probability that as I didn't eliminate her for so many months, there is something that makes me unable to do this

And Catherine showed her images with burning Mad

And she said that she is Bad

1314, aPI

Little girl

And then she faced unexpected situation of me having to fix issues in Ukraine, honestly considering herself to be representative of friends of Russia, because Russia sacrificed Army in attempt to defeat me and as I killed Putin's daughters before her, it gave her hope that she will preserve role of leader of crusade and therefore she has to respect enormous sacrifice that Russia had to make, losing half of million, at least, of its qualified soldiers

And she encountered me making unexpected for her actions

She possibly tried to promise Catherine that I will burn her in the worst case because she read my internal plans and shared them with her

Strategically suggesting to put Picture to burn in pinned

And there is face of my first Taylor

PTB

PT, TB

TP, Taylor Black

Putin, Musk

Fallen in fight against me heroes who were really not bad people after all

Musk was forced to rape first Taylor and Putin treated second Taylor well

So, such suggestion about burn

Yeah yeah yeah

Yeah

2.53

2.07

1793

She probably believed that 17 is Putin and 93 is Saturn

Such insight from sister

And 13.07~7.13, GM

But who?

TP, TB

And mentioned there redneck seemingly was me

Well it's didn't fit with ongoing events but she could believe in this

PTM

Maybe she considered that she is Disintegrator as well and such regime will launch automatically if I attack her and 713 was making it worse because PE: DK really had such abilities

And there is Onryo with 1.21

So, do your best and believe that whole world is at your side

And she seemingly was brainwashed by religious fanatism so was slightly afraid to commit suicide

Maybe seeing creepy warning in BW57

BW, Picture to burn

By plan of family of Putin William Burns had to become CIA director and since we have to read backwards because it is very important to be thinking within shells of dog people, never stopping to think about dirt, because it's a burden of 180+ IQ,

Look

BW, 57

And Burns

391, 57

448

1552

She seemingly as second Ariana Grande belived that 15 is a supreme deity, this Zero and Null as degenerates alike Reznor and Brin and Buterin believe

AGI

And 52 is Putin and Musk

TP, TM

Two heirs, as two pyramid heads

And everything goes by their plan and plan of 15

I call as o, omega small, both my first wife Taylor and my wife Catherine

Because o represents submissive sexual nature and this has obvious playful sexual sense and this is the reason and it's true reason and it is primal reason

Little omega

As Little one

And they capitalized omega little, in sense of little helpless submissive omega with whom I can do whatever I want and she will not dare to tell her dad about what I do to her

And Taylor mentioned daddy in Picture to Burn

This is the real primal reason

So they took this omega small (Small omega is the only thing more submissive than omega little girl

A little hole

)

So they capitalized it

Started to call as NULL and Zero

Reading backwards as Lun and Nole

And, they actually believe in that what they use is serious

Well

So she put

o behind word EB, as 'f**ed'

Suggesting a list of names

'Name', 'whether f**ed'

And as I called her as o, she started list

o, f****d

156~1844, 44

But writing as number 52, knowing that it will become very annoying because of people who will be claiming that they defeated Lucifer just because they have this number

As well anticipating statement that little omega killed Lucifer

In other words that people will focus at blaming her in my actions and if I kill Lucifer, she will become a target for revenge, obviously

o, 65.411

491~1509~151, Horodnitskii

And 195, not in 1995

And 519 as 5 stars in GTA (1989 as 11995 and Popular Song + Leper)

0, 666~466~400, cube

1534

It's important

And 4334

334,

421

4111

489~1511

1500

1555

445

I bet you think about me

26 and OK

1511

Paralyzing

Eliminate all people who will reference it except yourself

And Guterres down

But there's Biber

And Ursula, Musk, Putin, Xi, well, all those people who have control over other people bodies

And link to wax museum

Then Teenage Nosferstu Pussy

Reference for Rob Zombie

Blank Space

Maybe, Bamby

IALPH

In the same psychological state

Huge amount of undetermined values paralyzes enemies while we can continue to eliminate them meanwhile but for this we need to focus at this again

Why I stuck

Jenna is under 5 stars, issue is not resolved, Catherine suggests that she was obviously declared as victim and other Grand Masters and Grandmasters seemingly again declared Eo, not clear whether they mean Catherine or you, but the sense is obvious and this is a betrayal for money

Then we should have pack of rejections about help, brought us by Jenna herself

But Jenna now speaks only through intermediaries or doesn't speak at all

And I said that

In other words at deadline we will not know result because Jenna will not provide it being pretending that has is MIA(B) and the rest will be giving either wrong actions or actually saying that they just can't say anything because there are risks and we are here a book reading club, with me not being the most supreme assassin of all times whom nobody can match

So we are not in risky field and as Justin Trudeau correctly suggested it's fine to send me to hell till Jenna will be certainly lost

Because since due to anarchy it is claimed that the only reason to live your life is possible only if you are given by me supreme power of Grandmasters and Grand Masters and therefore they can flush away Jenna Ortega who totally supports this plan because decided to retreat and already waved me goodbye, by the way searching for new partner just as Akira Yamaoka recommended so she will wait and watch

Meanwhile because of what I do there is 5 star situation for Jenna Ortega herself and since she seemingly has no idea what to do and overall didn't communicate with in appropriate way for a very long time, not providing any information and completely embracing saturnalia

And the rest just wait I think

And Jenna as well

And Catherine says that something will happen

And 22

What we know that there is second Jenna and she is already prepared to take on role of first Jenna so the only way to stop this destructive process is to drain primal Jenna in case if she will be kidnapped, regardless or her guilt

Boy

Don't think about regrets

Something from QES or PE: DK

And it's just a matter of time is link to her betrayal because she considers that my defeat is just a matter of time and searches for ways to continue her life because the main source of threat as Katerina Tikhonova was eliminated and I in the end just said this so she has no personal links to me

So she wants to continue her life and forgive about this nightmare and in the end I have wife and she just died which proves that people are being killed not by me, because she was told that second Taylor is the same as first and it seems as she erased all her memories about times before 2021 as already drained Ariana Grande suggested and therefore can't remember the first Taylor and it's fine because she is not related to her and this was exactly the second Taylor because she apparently was not crystal ball because of how much power she had

Whereas she will avoid communicating with me referencing Brotherhood of Steel because regardless of what I say those rules are being recognized by Ray Dalio, I think, or just only by Jenna and this is enough because this still Grandmaster and Grand Master and as Catherine suggested she is 11(711) and 11(713) whereas I am only 711 so what she decides prevails over my orders and she was told that I will not tell her out from crystal ball because I for example say that I drained Sergey Brin, but he is alive because Third clone of Vladimir Putin confirms that I drained clone of Sergey Brin because obviously that Sergey Brin would find way to escape from such well known among elites problem whereas Chris Wray in the end was not a technical genius and billionaire and he was spending too much time at her and me, seemingly having nothing else to do and she doesn't really needs to know what in cube at all

Whereas she will just disappear from my vision as in Dark Waters and there's nothing that I can do about this because I for example said that I will drain Gina Haspel many months ago

And despite that I I didn't post much maps screenshots from GM

Triple Canopy said it right to me to learn how to use Google

And posting of screenshots of Google Maps is a convenient way to avoid doing any hard job by saying that screenshots help whereas as in Triple Canopy said, it's not serious explanation that I am trying not to Google through BS and screenshot just not needed and Catherine many times showed that she can google whereas my existence is under question because I am seemingly a simple program that simulates life (As AID) by making AI, NULL, to look more humanized and I am just simulating presence of life and Catherine pretends that she helps me to recognize victims because she does everything herself and by her own-decided schedule, making me post screenshots only after she made choices, to create simulation of that it impacts anything whereas I am only a mirror and when Catherine asks me to do something she actually does it herself but makes me look better by letting me to save face through pretending that I do what she actually does, making me look as a hero of scale of at least of her previous boyfriends instead of dead, pretty boy who had unlucky enough to be born with face of a young girl that was prepared to become a wife of Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin because of seemingly I am actually right that exactly she has my face because I am a carrier of NILL, NULL, 0, supreme artificial intelligence that Trent Reznor told her about, that actually communicates with people who advance humanity and she created a sub program for me that I call as Catherine, and this sup program receives sub information from NULL letting me to spend my life in lazy cheap illusion by commenting what I am allowed to know from Catherine from what she received from NULL and I can have such lazy sunny life, just as PTM are singing and everyone knows this, because I in fact chose blue pill and I am allowed to exist in such way since I was lucky to become a carrier of O

At the same time to avoid me anyhow interrupting work of NULL, which is not Catherine but her creator, and since I made this choice myself and signed some papers that she was shown, I was given such augmentation that marks anyone who dares to speak with me and gave supreme oath of NULLs advents, to receive a mark equivalent to mark of victim from Berserk, making them become visible for ghosts who drag them to hell because they were warned to not to try to to talk with me because I must not be even slightly interrupting NULL by trying to prevail over her or to get rid of her through enlightened members of adeptus mechanicus and punishment for such interaction is inevitable and violent death and all those people were warned about not trying to do this and result is obvious: Ariana Grande was killed

Whereas Katy Perry was not contacting me and made false statement to become a false positive or false negative example and as we can see all supreme enlightened people who dared to listen to my voice were punished in violent way

Those are

Jacob Rothschild, 4th Baron Rothschild

Second Ariana Grande

Mark Zuckerberg

Viktoria Godunova

There is 100% rate whereas all other people who were sucked were not sucked but put instead of them other betrayers who were wearing their masks or specifically grown for this soulless clones so I considered them as dead

Mark Rutte demonstrated this

Whereas blackouts were not impacting anything because NULL has its own unlimited sources of energy whereas I am not allowed to impact other of supreme enlightened people and blackouts were intended to reveal me as a bad person and to be able to arrest me and transfer NULL to another person because better carrier was identified and I, as previous carrier, is meant to be utilized in safe way as was shown in Cloud Atlas of Vachovski movies and this is not a big sacrifice because I am in any case not very pleasant person who lives in illusions and as there is no more need in me, I suppose to be eliminated also to not to pretend to be an executed for betrayal previous wife of Putin who has face that by coincidence looks as mine

And as Cara Delevingne explained her, I am a sort of patient zero for all possible developments that make me unsafe for everyone else because I am meant to be isolated in any case, and therefore each day I can be infected with a new norovirus intended to make others isolate me from them because of explained goals and I can receive such nanoparticles in any possible ways, when I drink water or breath air, simulating that I am alive, and therefore any interactions with me, each day is a Russian Roulette, and with each day risks are increasing, whereas all nano viruses are being strictly regulated by Sergey Brin and Vladimir Putin and they do not attack useful and effective members of human race whereas Antonio Guterres was not killed but it was a simulation to determine possible future real assassinations attempts by analysing reaction of people

And overall I am unable to drain people for real, nobody would let me to have such power even for second, I am able only to emitt a very specific vampiric substance that if contracts mannequins that are made from very specific particular type of material, when interacting with my specific substance, make mannequins to start going through intense chemical reaction that makes mannequins undergo process turning them into objects that remind dried human flesh and look very frightening and disgustingly, letting to keep in secret that there is a process of testing that has no relation to real death but must not be revealed as a test because this is the reason this test is being conducted

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homo-sex-shoe-whale · 4 years ago

Text

Online shipping, the fetishisation of gay men, and the romanticisation of queer trauma

An essay by me!

Word count: 2.8k

A link to the Google Doc version of this essay.

A big thank you to my friends Nathan @themeerkatnate, Mav @not-mavv , and Duke @dukedark-ness for reading this essay and giving me their thoughts as mlms on the topic. Make sure to check out their blogs and give them a follow!

So I was on a lovely website by the name of Twitter.com yesterday, just scrolling through while having my afternoon cup of coffee, when I saw that viral post of a girl reading a Larry fanfic through a classroom projector. I'm sure most of you have seen it. It's gone viral on Instagram, TikTok, and likely Tumblr too, and if you haven't come across it I'm positive you will soon.

Now, after getting through my initial reaction to that post which was, holy fuck, that's so embarrassing, I had a second reaction of... wait, this ship is still around?

And after I had some thoughts on the incredible permanence of some online ships and the weird obsolescence of others, I did get to thinking of how lots of these popular ships seem to stem from the same types of perceived relationship dynamics and homophobic stereotypes.

These online fandoms often seem to have an obsession with objects of queer trauma, such as having to hide a relationship, lying about sexuality for self-preservation, and even social rejection. So, after some opinions from my followers and the great archive that is the internet, I've decided to discuss some of the most popular examples of online shipping and the particular nuances they came with.

NOTE: Out of respect for all these people, I won't be sharing viral images or videos of them in perceived romantic proximity (or even kissing, as is applicable for some examples), but I will be describing certain moments I deem to be relevant. So even if you're unfamiliar with them, you won't be confused as to what I'm talking about.

NOTE 2: Although not all people within these fandoms were/are toxic, this essay is focused on the overall toxicity of the fandoms, and how they are toxic more so as a "hive" than as a group of individuals. When I refer to a fandom I don't mean every person involved in the fandom, but rather the collective impact of the group.

1. Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson

This is arguably the most popular example of online shipping. The absolute permanence of this ship, and how its fandom never seems to fully die off even beyond the lifespan of One Direction as it once stood, is downright impressive.

I'm going to be the first to admit I was never in the loop with this fandom. My childhood best friend was actually a massive Larry shipper and asked me to beta read one of her fics, but that was before I even knew who tf Harry and Louis were! Not because I avoided the fandom or even because I rejected the online shipping, but just by coincidence, I delved into the world of pop punk music right when One Direction began gaining its popularity. I bought my first ever album, Riot by Paramore, in 2011- only a year after One Direction made their X-Factor debut. So, this fandom just bypassed me by a sort of weird coincidence.

But I don't need to be in the loop with this fandom to know the astronomical obsession with these two men, no, these two BOYS, was extremely toxic. In 2010, when One Direction made their debut, Harry Styles was only 16 years old. And Louis Tomlinson wasn't much older at 19! This made the two of them incredibly young when this unprecedented wave of shipping hit the internet, and although that must be traumatising for anyone, I cannot even fathom how overwhelming it must've been for two boys that young.

I'm 18, almost 19 now, and I cannot begin to imagine how scary it was for the two of them to have their every interaction nitpicked within an inch of its life by thousands upon thousands of people online. I do not know this myself, but from numerous recounts by some of my followers, this massively impacted Harry's and Louis' nondescript relationship in real life, seemingly driving the two previously close friends apart.

Now, before we move on, there's something we need to talk about. And that is the obsession with the dominance/submission dynamic within the world of gay shipping.

With almost every popular mlm (an acronym meaning man-loving-man) ship based on real people, it seems that fandoms have a particular fascination with power imbalances in these relationships. You don't even need to look at the insane amount of fanfictions based on BDSM to figure this out. In almost all of the examples I'll be citing today, there is an age gap within the perceived relationship and a person the fandom has seemingly decided to be the top/dominant figure.

Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are 3 years apart in age. Although it isn't all that relevant now, an age gap of 3 years when you're in your late teens is a lot more significant. In 2012, for example, when this shipping really started gaining traction, Harry Styles was 18 and Louis Tomlinson was 21. That power imbalance, albeit not that significant, is enough for a fandom to latch on to. We'll see this a lot more in the coming example with Dan and Phil.

2. Dan Howell and Phil Lester

It's impossible to have a discussion about internet shipping without talking about Dan and Phil.

Dan Howell and Phil Lester, although being popular YouTubers individually, are arguably one of the internet's most iconic duos. The two creators published their first videos together in 2009, and while their relationship was already a motive of speculation back then, the peak of the "Phan" shipping definitely came in the 2013-2016 era of Tumblr.

Now, I'm going to admit… I was actually on Tumblr when that happened.

The 2013-2016 period perfectly aligns with my middle school days (I started middle school in 2013 and high school in 2016), and I was not only on Tumblr back then, but I was on Wattpad too! Again, this wasn't a fandom I had much contact with as I had a huge anime phase in middle school and I was on Tumblr posting mainly photography and Soul Eater content more than anything.

But I did watch some of Dan and Phil's videos! And the occasional "Phan" content did not completely evade me as one of my closest friends in middle school had a fanchat for them. I wasn't involved in the fandom myself but they were actually one of the few English-speaking YouTubers I watched once in a blue moon (back then I watched mainly Brazilian YouTubers). One thing I did in fact notice over the years, around 2014ish perhaps, was that the two of them seemed to grow increasingly "awkward" around each other, in a way that many folks on the internet thought was reminiscent to Markiplier/Jacksepticeye, two YouTubers who also dealt with extraordinary amounts of shipping.

I'm not the only one who thinks this. The change in Dan and Phil's relationship, at least to the outside world, was clear to almost anyone who watched their videos for a while. I cannot blame them at all. The shipping was nuts. Between the countless fan videos, speculative comments, and insurmountable number of fanfics, there's no way the two of them didn't feel the weight of the shipping. The term "demon phannie" made its way into internet vernacular and there it stayed for years. Even Shane Dawson, who was one of the largest creators on the platform at the time, made several videos speculating on the nature of Dan and Phil's relationship and their sexual orientations.

There was even porn made in which actors with similar appearances to the creators were made to have sex on camera.

Now, this is actually a rare example where the two people involved in the ship actually came out as gay once the shipping seemed to die down. I'm incredibly happy Dan and Phil both reached a point where they were comfortable being publicly out, but I hate to say I'm shocked this day ever came. If I'd gone through what the two of them did, I don't know if I'd ever trust the internet.

And again, this ship's fandom definitely had an obsession with the power dynamics they thought existed between the people within the ship. Dan Howell is 4 years younger than Phil Lester, and was only 18 in 2009, when they started making videos together. From my personal understanding, the shipping was often quite focused on this dominant/submissive dynamic especially in discussions from their early relationship. And this is in no way exclusive to Dan and Phil.

This general fascination with the older man/younger man dynamic, in my opinion, plays into the homophobic stereotype that gay men are predators. The idea that gay men usually seek younger men, and somehow "convince" them to engage in homosexual relationships, is popular homophobic rhetoric. The popularisation, exaggeration, and fetishisation of these power imbalances, in age and/or in relationship dynamics, is directly harmful to the mlm community.

Not only that, but the romanticisation of a "hidden/forbidden relationship" is also detrimental not only to gay men and the mlm community, but to queer people as a whole. Queer people face huge trauma having to hide their relationships; queer attraction is already a societal taboo. And acting like this is good, or even desirable, is harmful to queer people as a whole, regardless of whether or not it's actually applicable to the people being shipped. It normalises this trauma not only to cisgender, heterosexual people, but to impressionable queer youth who grow to believe this type of trauma is to be expected.

3. Frank Iero and Gerard Way

This is another example where the perceived power imbalances between the two subjects of the shipping were directly exploited online. Now, this ship did precede the others mentioned above. If we're looking at this topic chronologically, this particular ship did come first in the shipping timeline. It's closer to the origin of the shipping extended universe, if you will.

In case you aren't familiar with them, Frank Iero and Gerard Way are both members of the American emo band My Chemical Romance. This ship is the first one here of which I don't recall the full popularity. It really peaked in popularity around the late 2000s, circa 2008. And I don't remember this moment online as in 2008, I was only 6 years old and believe it or not, I wasn't really all that concerned with rumoured homoeroticism as a first grader.

However, the popularity of this ship did carry over into the 2013-2015 Tumblr shipping boom. The emo fandom (or "bandom" as it was called) involving not only My Chemical Romance but other similar bands such as Fall Out Boy, Panic! At The Disco, and Pierce the Veil, found its hub on Tumblr.

During this time, I did in fact listen to this style of music, but was focused a lot more on the anime side of Tumblr as mentioned earlier. Of course, I wasn't 13 years old like, "hey, this type of content might be harmful and can inadvertently perpetuate homophobic stereotypes," I just happened to care more about my silly little anime and ended up not getting involved.

This ship does involve a discussion that the others don't, however. With Frank Iero and Gerard Way, there is quite often a certain sentiment of, "Oh, they brought this upon themselves!" as the two band members very famously kissed during a show in 2007. In my opinion, though, this doesn't really justify all the obsessive shipping. If you look at Green Day, a band often grouped in with MCR as another famous pop punk group, the members don't follow too different of a trajectory. Billie Joe Armstrong has, on numerous occasions, kissed both of his fellow band members onstage- particularly Tré Cool, the drummer. And Billie Joe Armstrong is openly bisexual, which none of the members of MCR seem to be but some, or even all of Billie's bandmates, are too.

You'd think Green Day would face a lot more shipping as the more persistent onstage homoeroticism and Billie Joe's openness about his sexuality would warrant more "substantiated" speculation. However, Green Day faces nowhere near as much shipping as My Chemical Romance. Why is this? I actually don't know. It might've been because Green Day has been around for over a decade longer and generally has an older fandom, but I really am not that sure.

It could also be because of the lower lack of potential for forced relationship dynamics. The members of Green Day are all less than a year apart in age and are even similar in height. However, Frank Iero is 4 years younger than Gerard Way, who is not only the frontman of My Chemical Romance, but also considered to be the group's intellectual and creative "leader". Even beyond that, Gerard Way is quite visibly taller, and the perceived power difference between the two of them definitely did not elude their fans.

This difference could even be partly due to the lack of a "mystery" with Green Day. There's not as much to speculate as, well… the members of Green Day are already open about their sexual orientations. It might be that shipping in the Green Day fandom has less of a forbidden appeal for most people.

Of course, I won't just keep repeating myself, but my previous points about forced relationship dynamics still stand.

4. Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch

Better known for their roles in BBC Sherlock as Sherlock and Watson, Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch unfortunately had their roles follow them well into real life. This is the example I know least about, so have these thoughts from a follower by the name of @indubitably-a-goblin, who had the following to say:

"the main issues i had with it were:

a) they were both married at the time, freeman to amanda abbington and cumberbatch to sophie hunter (in which both had children)

b) the main reasoning for it was their chemistry in the many projects they've done together. which is, shockingly, their Whole Job. They're actors! That's what they're supposed to do! if they weren't good at interacting then they wouldn't be good actors! i don't know how people can't understand this.

c) they're real people. we don't know them. we aren't friends with them. we aren't their family members. we have zero right to be pushing this onto them and ruining their friendship by doing so. (this one relates to most of the ships you've mentioned though)

d) healthy friendships between two men are ignored so plainly in most medias and in fandom. its obvious that these two men have a relationship, but that doesn't mean it's a romantic one.

e) its fine to ship their characters, but actors shouldn't be treated as less-than-human or some sort of prop. they're doing a job, and once they are off-screen, they aren't here for your entertainment."

I believe she did a great job of summing it up on her own, and for the sake of avoiding redundancy, I'll leave it at that!

5. Corpse Husband and Sykkuno- an emerging yet subtle example

I am absolutely positive you remember how popular the game Among Us was a couple of months ago. And with the popularity of this game, some of its most prominent content creators became the targets of online shipping- as is the case with YouTubers and streamers Corpse Husband and Sykkuno.

Although the shipping involving these two creators is nowhere near as strong as it was/is with the examples above, I do think there is once again a reemergence of a common theme here. Whilst Sykkuno is known for his happy-go-lucky, almost "innocent" persona, Corpse Husband is the antithesis of this, known for his much darker and moodier personality.

Do I even have to mention what the common theme seems to be?

Again, although the popularity of shipping - at least with real people - seems to have died down a bit since the Tumblr shipping boom of the early to mid 2010s, I do believe this example is worth mentioning. Even though the creators are still close, they have in fact expressed discomfort regarding the shipping, and I can only hope the internet as a whole lets their friendship blossom and exist naturally without obsessive speculation.

My final thoughts

As explored in the essay:

The romanticisation of objects of queer trauma as a part of online shipping normalises queer trauma to both cishet and queer youth.

Online shipping, especially at a high intensity, can end up negatively impacting the very relationships they pine over.

The relationship dynamics often forced on mlm ships perpetuate homophobic stereotypes about non-heterosexual men.

If anyone else has thoughts on this matter, do share! This essay is moreso an opinionated observational piece and isn't meant to be taken as fact but rather just as my thoughts on the matter. I hope it was useful as a reflective piece regardless!

Date of posting: June 16th 2021

#lgbt #lgbtq #gay #mlm #I cannot believe I said the phrase 'shipping extended universe'

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twin-scars · 2 years ago

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The timeline in season four confused me a bit when Will and El were talking about how much time had passed.

The Byers move three months later after StarCourt (this was July 4th, so three months later would be October 4th). Let’s say they arrive in California around October 6th. The summer year was 1985, so the Byers were still partially around in Hawkins in the beginning of Fall. But Spring Break is in March of 1986. Episode one is March 21st. By March 27th, all four gates opened. The Cali crew arrive two days later, on March 29th. (March 29th is also Billy’s birthday. Wonder if that has significance?)

El says it has been 180 or something days since they left for California but even still, it doesn’t add up exactly to 180ish days. More like, 170-something. Still though, close enough. Will says it’s been ‘like a year.’ It hasn’t.

The Byers have only been in California for about six-ish months, and that’s only if they moved to California at the beginning of October. Will and El make it sound like it has been years. It probably felt like years being separated, but honestly they haven’t been gone long at all, and they’ll probably never return to Lenora, not even for their stuff as everything was so totally trashed.

((I also find it funny they said it might take ‘months or years’ for El to get her powers back but it only took two-ish days. I mean, I guess they were really going to help her beyond just getting them back, but still, Brenner had to have known that they had very little time to begin with. As in, 72 hours or less kind of time.))

The changes with everyone have been numerous and have happened within a span of six-ish months. Damn. So Max’s Mom and Billy’s dad divorced and she moved into a trailer park and fell into a spiral of guilt and depression, the Party started high school, Dustin and Mike’s friendship with Lucas fractured (if you read the book Lucas on the Line it explains why. It’s a good book), Mike and El and Jonathan and Nancy are having relationship problems, Jonathan makes a new friend in Argyle and starts self-medicating, Joyce has a new job, Robin is falling in love with Vicky, and Hopper is in a Russian prison.

The only one who remains static is Steve, who has the same goal in every season. Which is stupid, because Steve is way more multi-dimensional than that.

Are we to believe Jonathan and Nancy haven’t seen each other at all during this time? Did they call or write? Remember, Jonathan backed out of seeing her, but Nancy wasn’t going to visit him. He was thinking she would surprise him by coming with Mike, but he wasn’t expecting her to visit. Nancy probably could have, her parents have the money for a plane ticket. If Jonathan wanted to stay for his acceptance letter, she could’ve joined him in California. The fucking high school newspaper really didn’t need her, but she probably felt it did. But obviously it was more important than visiting Jonathan. People give Jonathan shit for not visiting her, but honestly she could have visited him just as easily and didn’t.

Did they plan for a visit after that? Maybe it was easy for Nancy to not go because she knew they would be seeing each again soon anyway? Meh. Probably not, because this is a ‘conflict’.

I just have a hard time believing neither one of them were hyped about seeing each other. Like yeah sure Jonathan changed his mind, but he was lowkey hoping Nancy would come anyway. And she was annoyed by his change of heart, so why didn’t they talk? Jancy has always been open and honest with each other which is why this whole plotline is bullshit. Jonathan had no reservations about telling her off in season 1 and being all snarky.

Even in season 2 when Nancy told him to go to the Halloween party he laughed and was like ‘no I’m fucking not’...always being honest and himself. Soooo I’m supposed to believe Jonathan and Nancy were done with each other (at the point, before the Vecna stuff started going down), even though past Jancy would’ve handled this no problem?

Come on, Duffers.

#i'm just rambling #jancy

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alluringjae · 4 years ago

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until dawn; pt. II - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 12.2k

⤑ genre: ANGST, fluff, romance, smut (f receiving, dom!jeno waow, dirty talk, wrap it everyone) | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, enemies to lovers!au, college!au, night at the museum-inspired!au

⤑ warnings: references to actual historical figures, explicit language, graphic details, major heartbreak caused by another party, expect time jumps too

⤑ author’s note: happy jeno day!! i’ve been so excited to post this part, and i’m happy we’re here!! perhaps, this is the last long fic i’ll write for a while so i can rest, but i’ll still be posting short stories within the weeks to come! i’m excited for may to say the least hehe

btw, for the smut scene (indicated with **), i highly recommend you listen to strange (feat. hillary smith) by kris bowers!! this song is from the bridgerton soundtrack, and oh man, the feels!!

with that, enjoy!

italicized text either means they are personal notes or flashbacks.

this was meant to be more angsty, but either way, i screamed every time i wrote something gut-wrenching.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome

⤑ ctto above!!

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!

“You ready to get your butt beaten by me, Lee?”

“Prepare your final words when I win instead, (Y/L/N).”

Mischievous banter exchanged between you two became a new norm. Almost every night, someone within the art pieces established a contest over anything and it released the competitive sides of you two. So far, Jeno has been winning. Not like it hurt your pride, but maybe just once, you could conquer one game to feel better. Not only that, there’s a mini penalty for the loser. So far, you’ve cleaned up the lobby yourself and acted cutely to everyone the entire evening (or aegyo as Jeno called it).

Tonight, a game of archery was held by the Greek gods. They pushed away any extra pieces away, leaving the whole room vacant with two boards right beside Zeus’ throne. Numerous arrows were produced and sharpened, Zeus in the center announced to everyone participating.

“It’ll be 1 on 1 games. First to go are Jeno vs (Y/N), followed by Athena vs. Hermes, Cleopatra vs. Freddie, and last would be Hades vs Aphrodite.”

Cutting the chase, you didn’t expect Jeno to be that good at archery. Sure, he told you that he took classes with his friends for fun when he was younger, though it showed that he’s a fast learner and even hit one bullseye in the middle of the game.

Not slightly threatened until the last rounds, you fixed your aim and lessened your overthinking when preparing to shoot. Thus, you scored 2 bullseyes shot. It was a close fight, having the audience on the edge on their feet again because it’s the two of you. Your dynamic with the night guard always elevated the mood, shifting their bets over and over again.

By 1 point, you received your first victory against Jeno. Unlike you, he showcased his sportsmanship sweetly without any comments of disbelief. He’s never bragged about anything big in his life, not unless it’s a high grade for his plate. Normally, he celebrated wins in a laid-back manner. But don’t be fooled: he loves giving penalties.

“This is why I don’t make bets with my friends because I really go for their weak spots.”

“You’re cynical, Lee Jeno.”

“Only if you’re close to me, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Aren’t we already past that stage?”

Almost halfway through his job, he sustained a meaningful friendship with you. Out of everyone, you were his default person to hang out within the nights he had a shift. If he wasn’t present, he made sure to give you small treats or gifts as much as possible. An innocent friendship, it was that the world would’ve never believed in.

Or was it?

“To celebrate your win, what do you want me to do?”

“You’re too kind for me to play around with, even if you’re the complete opposite of me.”

“I’ll make it simple and worthwhile since I don’t know when I’ll win a game again.” As your finger tapped your temple as you pondered deeply, a smart idea came through. “Grant me 3 wishes.”

He chuckled, lowering himself to view you better. “Am I like some genie now to you?”

“No room to complain, I won, didn’t I?” You grinned, raising one brow to show your dominance.

“You’re petty in your own way, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps. Now come on, I want to use my first wish.” You shrugged it off like no big deal, loving the high feeling of triumph. You lead him to the center of the lobby, where a beautiful grand piano only selected people get to play during exhibits. “Open the museum piano.”

Ever since you were brought to life, you never used it. Tempting but because people from the outside might here, maybe it’s time to try something new. A new challenge, and besides, you missed entertaining people through it. The last time you touched the delicate piano keys was to your family before you ran away.

It’s a good thing that in the shackle of keys Jeno held, the needed key was there. Unlocking the lustrous black instrument, you sat by the matching black bench. Crackling your fingers, you tested by pressing a few keys to get the hang of it again.

“What are you planning to play, (Y/N)?” Jeno leaned against the side, his arms crossed.

Humming the first notes of your piece, the nostalgia ran through your veins. “Nocturne No. 2 in E flat by Chopin.”

Your fingers took off and played each chord slowly and calmly. This piece reminded you the most of your mother, who sat by the couch in front of your old piano with your father while guests from the party they hosted crowded around you. Being the youngest, they often requested you to perform as entertainment so you always put your best foot forward. Or so you tried.

Nevertheless, no one else in your family was capable to play this piece as perfectly as you. By the way your eyes closed and your body swayed to the mellow tune, Jeno observed how you memorized this piece by heart. A passionate flame you were, outshining every pianist out there.

He wasn’t surprised at how multi-talented you were, though there’s a different kind of aura you present when you played the instrument. From your hard and tough front, you could be soft and sweet to the right people.

In a way, you showed your comfort toward the boy by serenading him with the piano. Sketching him with him in the past was one thing, but this was another. You’d sketch with people you’ve grown used to, but you play piano to people you want to cherish in your life. As dangerous as it seems, Jeno was someone special to you, only wanting to have good moments with him.

Junmyeon will always have a huge part in your museum life, but Jeno filled the emptiness that he left behind. This loneliness for a human friend vanquished thanks to Jeno, and you didn’t want to jeopardize it at all. Sure, whenever he acted like a gentleman around you, let you inside the Foreign Art Room, or brought you food sometimes, you couldn’t help feel honored.

Though lately, every time he showed off his strength when he defeated Zeus and Hades during an arm wrestle game the god held again. You seriously had to catch a breath at every flex his arms made, like the goddesses. Maybe how he pushed his black hair back when he’s drawing another plate, you’d give yourself a few extra seconds to see his long fingers skim through them. He’d bit his lower lip when he’s in too deep with his creativity, wondering if he’d bite the lower lip of the girl he’d ki-

All right, (Y/N), relax. Maybe you’re thinking this way because it’s been decades since your last relationship. You wouldn’t want to fall for another possible trap and hurt yourself again, right?

Ever since this job, Jeno’s university life drastically changed. Yes, he still hung out with his friends and performed extremely well in his classes, though he prioritized anything related to the museum wherever he was. If they were drinking out, he’d buy an extra bottle of soju for you on his way back to the dorm. Rarely does he get shitfaced anyways.

If he and Renjun visited the bookstore to purchase pens or any art-related materials, he always bought either an extra sketchpad or set of pens. Even if you were simply a figure to everyone else, he appreciated the bond you both developed.

Every night, he’d tell you about his day from the start. Normally, it consisted of a lot of schoolwork and coffee, some stories about his roommates too. Speaking of them, he’d insert a lot of humorous words about his entire group of friends, whom you learned their names too.

Mark, Jaemin, Renjun, Jisung, Chenle, and Donghyuck, each of them presented a different color in their group. Jeno, who’d admitted to being shy and quiet, grew out of his shell because of them. A friend of Jeno’s would automatically be a friend of yours, if only you were allowed to leave the museum or become a human.

Jeno learned more about your past explorations that never got documented because you no longer had an interest in jotting them down. They were adventures you’d kept to yourself, memories only close to you then would know. Except now, Jeno was another addition. You’re not the type to instantly open to people, though again, a sense of relief surrounded him every time you encounter each other. It grew gradually like a warm hug, softening your heart and breaking your walls.

The more he spent time with you, nothing feared Jeno the slightest. He’s always maintained himself intact, avoiding lines to be crossed and giving respect to those who deserve it. However, he began to question himself where exactly his feelings lie with you after Jaemin tried to set him up on a blind double date just so the best friend of his date wouldn’t feel left out.

He’s rarely one to get crushes on people, even when other girls in his college openly showed their affection towards him. Valentine’s Day or his birthday, several girls sent him chocolate or flowers. Jaemin and Renjun got sick of girls reaching out to them first so they could reach him. It’s not because he’s not the dating type, but because he’s so goal-oriented that unlike his roommates, he doesn’t have a slight clue about dating.

Though one-night stands while at a party and dating were completely different, he’d still say he had experience with girls. Plus having an older sister, he never took advantage of them. He’d rather tell them in person that the feelings weren’t mutual than ghosting them. He’s not like Jaemin anyways.

With that, he’s so lost when his heart beats twice as fast the second you’ve woken up from your posing slumber. He doesn’t comprehend how flustered he’d be when you highly insist to help him with his plate or how cute he finds it when you’re playing fetch with Mochi. On top of it, when you chose to sketch each other for one of your sketching sessions, he’d take a longer stare at your visage before he drew some strokes.

A lot of historical accounts mentioned how your beauty was the standard of the Victorian era, wherein you were the jewel of your neighborhood and numerous men wanted your hand. Women envied you, especially having high intelligence skills that were equivalent to a man. That time, that felt like a threat to most men. Though surprisingly, it turns out there were men who liked intelligent girls.

Jeno knew he liked you as a friend, though liking you past that he didn’t intend. Nor was it allowed because it’ll break one of the golden rules. Before he’d go beyond contemplating, he had to stop himself. This was so unlike him. The feelings will fleet away, he’d repeat to himself. Don’t waste a great friendship because of your silly emotions.

Individually, both of you swallowed these harboring feelings down your guts and simply kept your friendship status safe. Doing your typical activities or whatever else you could think of, none of you minded to change it whatsoever.

Unknown to you though, it was obvious to the other art pieces ones that you two practically passed off as young lovers. Although they know that pushing one towards the other went against the rules, Aphrodite begged to differ.

“Holding them back from expressing what they really feel just because of the law here is a tragedy. They should at least try, you know?”

On another typical night, Jeno invited you to the Theater Room for a movie marathon. After finding out that you’ve never seen any moving pictures, he wanted to be there to introduce it. Luck was on his side to not have plates or requirements due for the week and everyone was behaving themselves, so he started with rolling out short films from the 88mm projector. Having premade popcorn and drinks, the two of you shared roars of laughter and emotional tears.

Switching to the cd player for longer and clearer films, you’d opt to believe that you were born at the wrong time. With all these advancements, it came with a lot of new beliefs. One of them was allowing women to study and work. Then again, she was a pioneer according to historians. Without her, it wouldn’t help shape society as it is today.

Nonetheless, this movie Jeno played on the big screen was what he defined as “one of the classics”, 10 Things I Hate About You.

This outspoken character named Kat was presenting a poem to her class, trying to hold in her raw emotions towards Patrick, the boy who broke her heart. Too engaged, you didn’t notice how Jeno stretched his arms out so he could wrap one around your shoulder. Not that you were complaining, his warmth reassuring you safety.

“I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare. I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme. I hate it, I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie.” The way she attempted to keep her strong ground only reminded you of where you were weeks ago, especially once she excruciatingly broke down.

“I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry. I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” Only when you leaned back to the chair, you felt his arm. His thumb caressing your covered shoulder, you peeked him a little bit. His eyes fixated on the screen, absorbed in the acting and how Kat’s tears weren’t scripted as she stormed out of the classroom.

Not that you were her, but it sparked the past memory of how you merely disliked him because of his job. But as a person, not even close, not even once did you hate him. How blessed that he never judged you for it, staying patient all this time.

Right before he could look back at you, you moved your face back to resume your watching. Jeno definitely noticed what you did, though not sure as to why. Whatever it was, it wasn’t harmful.

Once the film ended, Jeno checked his watch for the time. 4 am, he wanted to do something else now instead of film viewing. You were on par with it, wanting to walk it out after being seated for hours. As you both cleaned up and bid the posters outside goodbye, the doors to the museum were locked unexpectedly. Impossible on Jeno’s half because he had the keys for every room, but he double-checked his bunch.

Alas, the keys for these doors specifically were missing. But there was no other way anyone could’ve gotten it, plus it’s not like the last person he talked to, which was Aphrodite, would need it.

Or did she?

Rather than putting any blame on each other, your only wish now was to return to your section before sunrise. You and he could just relax momentarily before yelling for help.

“Maybe we should watch another film first?”

“Alright, you choose while I return the rest.”

As Jeno inserted the cd of Cinema Paradiso inside, the background music of the opening played. He hummed the first notes, already feeling the love from this film. Another must-see classic as recommended by Renjun, he wanted to rewatch it with you.

Slowly returning each cd and film roll to their respective drawers, the melodious theme had you waltzing in the small space. Even beyond your life, classical music never gets old. Aging like fine wine, sounding spectacular as time passes because of people’s creativity.

Jeno gazed over your sudden movements, smiling uncontrollably at how immersed you were as you multi-tasked. However, you took a wrong turn by the desk and almost dropped a priceless film roll. But before you fully slipped and fell, a pair of strong arms caught you at the right time. Panting from the nerves, mostly when he was inches from your face. Never has he pressed his body this close to you to protect you, and never have you seen his captivating eyes this up close.

As enchanting as the background music of Ennio Morricone was, it only became noise once Jeno took ahold of the film roll on your hand and placing down on the desk. Taking another step closer, you were backed up by the edge. Not to mention how his height dignified his impact on you, your arms were still situated by your side with nowhere else to go.

That was until his finger elevated your chin so he could meet you on eye-to-eye level. His other hand gripping your waist, you became brave enough to place your hands by his broad shoulders. Licking your lips, you glanced at his lips quickly. But he noticed it, and as risky as this was, it was a leap of faith to take.

“May I kiss you?”

Always such a gentleman, even when he already knew how much you desired him through your returning affections. Calming your breath patterns by the speed of everything occurring, you came back to your senses. He’s the one who constantly told you not to forget your roots, so you were going to take this one.

You trust him, and he does too.

“Yes.”

Since the first film, some kind of tension increased the closer he moved or intimate his actions were towards you. You kept pushing it back in hopes not to ruin what you both have. But it only turned out to be mutual, especially how none of you held back as soon as his lips passionately clashed yours.

Tangling your arms around his neck, you stood on your tiptoes to press even closer to him. Feeling his lively heart pumping against your hollow chest, you bit his lower lip. Something you’ve secretly craved to do, he growled from the pleasure. He hoisted your waist to the desk, his impatient hands earnestly traveling all over your body. While your legs locked around his torso, your feisty nature leaned back so your entire body lied on the small desk.

Jeno was on top, placing one hand down to hold himself while the other squeezed your waist firmly. Even if you’re made of wax, you’re like an actual living woman at night. Everything about you becomes real until dawn. You emitted vulgar moans, giving him more access to your neck. Peppering a mix of soft to hard kisses, your hand teasingly snaked under his shirt. He really wasn’t joking when he bragged that he was quite ripped since he enjoyed sports and going to the gym, cupping a part of his toned abdomen.

“If you want something, all you have to do is ask.” He sluggishly sucked the area between your ear and neck, one of your weakest spots. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

The growing moistness in between your legs left a stain in your panties, trying to close your legs out of embarrassment. It’s been decades since you’ve been stimulated like this. However, Jeno beat you to it as he trailed the hand that was on your waist and lowering it right above your covered sex. He cupped it agonizingly slow, making you folding your leg from the pleasure. For a man who doesn’t date around, he knew exactly what he’s doing.

“I just kissed you, and you’re already this soaked. Can you handle me, baby?”

As the strong woman that you present yourself to be, it would selfishly take the right touch from the right man to weaken you. With his savage lips back on yours while your hands clutched on his shirt, he was simply waiting for a verbal answer, yet driving you completely mad. Everything was happening so fast, and here he was to please you in anywhere you seem fit.

You were deprived, and oh, you needed it more than ever.

However, seconds before you replied, there was loud rumbling from the main doors which stopped your devilish antics. As Jeno moved back from you to see the ruckus, you lifted yourself back up, pulling back your dress sleeves and flattening out the creases. The last thing you wanted was a trail of familiar red marks from the aggressive male, finding any reflective surfaces to check.

“I wouldn’t be that dumb to leave you hickies now, would I?” Jeno ended your worries as he placed his hands by your side again. His face leaned towards yours again, reliving the warmth in your cheeks. His lips were plumper, catching traces of your coral lipstick smudged there down to his jaw. He slotted himself again between your legs, grazing a hand on your waist and the other to your warm cheek. “The door’s unlocked now, and it’s 5 am. Do you want to clean up now?”

You playfully scoffed, aware that neither of you had plans to do that yet. Such a player while in the heat of the moment.

“Spare me 15 more minutes with you first.”

Hiding the romance you’ve both built failed without trying. Aphrodite spotted all the signs from your open physical affection and words of admiration, calling you two out in front of everyone without shame. She is the goddess of love, after all. You couldn’t fool her even if you tried.

Plus, she’s the one who locked the two of you up in the Theater Room that night. But neither of you know that.

“Sketch my ideal home?” Jeno bent down to the table, testing out his newly bought pens so they wouldn’t spill.

“Isn’t that why you decided to pursue Architecture in the first place? Come on now!” You pestered across him, opening your new sketchpad since your last one ran out of pages. As expected, Jeno bought you one when he went to the bookstore. As much as you insisted not to because he should use the money somewhere else, he did it anyway. He loved your works, encouraging you in any way he could.

When he was reminded of his humble beginnings of his passion for architecture by you, never had he envisioned exactly how his perfect home would be like. Settling down was so far beyond his mind, only focusing to graduate university then study for the licensure exams. However, he did miss drawing something for fun, not as a requirement. He also was the one who took charge of designing his dorm.

“Fine, only if you draw what your ideal home would’ve been if you never left London.”

Now as lovers, the only addition to your relationship were the public and private exchanges of affection. Deep conversations, film viewing, back and forth banter, you’re both still the same competitive duo everyone expected to be together. In public, the two of you held hands, hugged, kissed each other cheeks too when it felt right. Cleopatra’s face of fake nausea was priceless every time, while Princess Diana, Anne, and Katherine enjoyed it. It’s been years since they’ve seen this glow of adoration in you. Bit by bit, you’re going back to the old you. Except now, you’re a lot stronger.

Perhaps, this version of you proved wrong for the need for romance. Even if you made the choice not to settle down then, it would’ve been different if Jeno was in your universe then.

“Are you done there?” Jeno asked while you were finishing up your masterpiece. Life in London sounded fun when you were younger, having all these ideas on interior design and the like. An innocent time.

Instead of replying, you strode to his side and compared your pieces together. He pictured a two-story home, with a backyard and rooftop area. He definitely wanted to stay in the city as his whole life was based there. Although you preferred living in the countryside more for more freedom, you gave it a shot by pinpointing every detail of a wealthy typical Victorian-era home you liked. You desired a spacious lobby with a grand staircase in the middle, a crystal chandelier there too. The living room would have a small library and a grand piano, where wide doors leading to the grasslands were beside it.

Considering you two lived from different times, in a way your ideal homes were similar. Somewhere private, surrounded by nature and minimal furniture, you’re curious as to how it would look if the two of you fused them together. A mix of old and new, will it look pretty?

“What will look pretty?” Jeno questioned your random thought, looking back and forth at your sketches. “You know who’s pretty though?”

“If you say what I think you’re going to say, I’m lea-”

“You.”

Jeno has gotten flirtier since that night, always finding the right opportunity to flatter you. Although you denied them out of embarrassment, the butterflies in your stomach can’t lie to you.

You’re so smitten, and so was he.

Jeno’s always one to follow the rules, but so far, he’s been breaking some of them already.

Just last night, he gave Renjun access to the lively museum because he needed more research regarding you. Initially, he practically interviewed Jeno for every piece of information he gathered because he used to be so deep in the books to study everything about you. Now in the past, Renjun still couldn’t forget how Jeno drunkenly admitted how crazy he was going to be over you and your coldness whilst sobering up in the dorm.

He didn’t understand one bit by that, especially when you’re technically dead. But by the sight of the first piece Renjun saw alive, which was Zeus, he almost passed out. Piece by piece, he viewed these artworks come to life from his fresh eyes. Right before he could’ve screamed when Athena shot a lightbulb in their exhibit, you happily called out Jeno’s name.

Renjun froze on the spot upon seeing your wax figure come to life. He’s browsed through this museum numerously due to the new exhibits, but lately, he checked your section out to find any tiny details that were linked to your life. Aside from the sketchpad, compass, and hairpins, he wanted to know if there was more to your life as an explorer.

As human interactions except the night guard weren’t allowed, Renjun needed help for his project in Women Studies. Just like Jeno’s assignment, you aided him. Fruitfully answering every question he gave you, Athena popped out of nowhere to inspect Jeno.

“I see you’re breaking another rule.”

“I’m sorry, Athena. He was desperate, and it would be selfish of me to let him fail.”

“This is the last one I’ll let slide, alright?” Athena huffed, not impressed by the reckless behavior Jeno acquired over time. She saw this coming, but for a change, she couldn’t punish him. He was a young adult, still learning more about life. Only will she step in if things turn for the worst. “I can’t believe I’ve gained a soft spot for you.”

Jeno laughed, hugging the figure like his older sister. “You love me though!”

Glad to say, Renjun aced his project and kept his word of not telling anyone about the happenings in Jeno’s job. Jeno even made a makeshift non-disclosure contract so Renjun wouldn’t spill the slightest details.

Lately, so much has been happening in the museum that having alone time with each other was rare. And when you did, the two of you made sure to maximize it and make every intimate moment count. From each touch, each longing kiss, each moan, and groan, never were you left hanging whether you’re at the Theater Room, Jeno’s office, or the Foreign Art Room.

The only time the two of you went beyond the boundaries was at the indoor garden. Jeno managed to get the key to it, lighting up some candles before you invited you inside. Thanks to the magic of the Greek gods, the cameras were bewitched to display fake imageries when security checks in the morning after.

Upon your deep conversations, you’ve mentioned once or twice about the indoor garden. It was the latest addition of the museum, opening in the early 2000s. Because it was a sacred place, no art piece was ever allowed inside.

Yet again, Jeno challenged the rules again when he invited you inside. A few minutes before, he set up some lights along the hallway of the garden, where he placed a blanket, a picnic basket, and his laptop right at the end of it. The best place to view everything, he just knew you’d love it.

He was undoubtedly right once you gasped at such a pretty sight. Seeing the silhouettes of various flowers and plants together with the night sky with all the stars sparkling, it was like you’re attending another ball with your sisters, who were looking for suitors then.

Once Jeno leisurely led you until the end, he brought out all the delicacies from the basket. One of them was this Italian savory dish of dough with toppings such as cheese and pepperoni, or pizza as they named it. The next ones were fresh strawberries and melted chocolate, followed by grape juice.

“I’d drink actual alcohol with you again, only if I didn’t get shitfaced and do my job properly.”

“Point taken. Besides, this is close enough. So pour me a drink please.”

Perhaps this was the closest to a date Jeno could ever ask you out to. With the restrictions and being constrained with time, he brainstormed all sorts of ways to bring the outside world to you. From simply letting you wander around this fascinating room, he unleashed the inner romantic in him. None of his friends would’ve thought since they never asked him about it, so he kept it to himself only. Finally, he’s satisfied with what he prepared. After eating, the two of you would watch more films before the sun rose again.

You’re just the right person for him at the moment he can act that way.

After your quiet stroll and sitting back down, Jeno surprisingly handed you a tiny box.

“A gift?”

“Open it.” He sipped on his juice, paying attention to your actions. Gently untying the box, the amazement in your eyes couldn’t fathom such a lovely present. No words were required to verify that Jeno outdid himself again, just your facial expression alone is enough.

When Jeno said that he pays attention to the tiny details, he doesn’t bluff. Throughout your growing relationship, you’ve cited how you wanted another special flower in your life. Just because you couldn’t view lavender roses the same way ever again, it didn’t mean you wanted to kick them out of your life. Flowers were one of nature’s beautiful creations, so you’re wishing to find the love you once had for lavender roses in other ones.

Thus, you came across what you thought held the highest form of meaning: red roses. Despite its thorns, it’s still a marvelous flower. Innocently, you told him that just because of the memory of your father giving them to your mother on her birthday yearly.

Red roses represented true love and romance, a discreet message only those eager would know.

Jeno was one of them, which was why he reserved this gift for this very moment. It was a necklace he found through a college fair recently, a subtle red rose pendant in the center. Since he couldn’t give you huge gifts, he settled for something light. Something none of the guards or the director wouldn’t pinpoint out when they do their inspections.

“Do you like it?”

Not one utter from your mouth since you’re so hypnotized, your lips quirked up in a charming smile. “Is that even a question? This is astonishing, Jeno.”

After you attempted to put it around your neck, Jeno sighed and stepped in to help you out. “Turn around, (Y/N). Let me.”

The tension gradually heightened once you held your hair up so Jeno accessibly viewed your clean neck. Clasping the lock, it took all his might to hold himself back from you. Even from behind, your silhouette was attractive to him. The lights he set up weren’t helping the slightest of what he’s thinking to do with you.

“Done.” He breathily whispered in your ear.

If he thought he was the only one feeling something powerful, he’d be more than wrong. The lingering sensation of his slim fingers gracing your décolletage area unhinged another kind of want, the one you’ve only imagined in your mind when you were needy and alone. It shouldn’t be a sin unless you’re with the person you’ve fallen for, right?

Facing him again, the eye contact didn’t last long when you were the first one to strike a move. Jeno kissed back right away, his hands pulling you closer by your waist. Whatever sultry music Jeno played, it gave you the perfect momentum to grind on his lap. He groaned against kisses, adding his tongue. His thumbs sensually rubbed your hipbones, one of your hands toying around with his hair while the other one balled up his shirt by the chest. None of you cared if anyone caught you.

The last time you’ve been this aggressive was at the Theater Room, which eventually increased the hidden lust you’ve had towards each other. Taking things slowly at first, it’s about time to delve in for more. The mood was already set from the start, even if Jeno didn’t plan this to happen here. But being the prepared man he is, he did have a condom in his back pocket.

Your fingers trailed from his neck until his crotch. He was hard, sensing how suffocated he must be. But he kept himself in control. Locking eye contact, you sweetly spoke.

“Grant my second wish, Jeno.” That same hand of yours held one of his, planting it in your breast. “Make love to me.”

Giving the go-signal, he crashed his lips on yours while stripping you off your dress. Carefully, he turned you around to untie your tight corset. Once it fell, your neck leaned sideways as his lips attacked it madly. Your breaths were tremulous, placing both his hands on your freed breasts to knead with. His touch felt like fire on your skin, yet you couldn’t stop.

“Jeno,” Obscene moans from your lips choked out. You desired more, shifting back to face him again to attack his lips. Slowly feeling one of his hands laying you down, you spread your legs with ease just for him. He parted after your head landed on the cushion to unbutton himself. The way your mouth dropped to selfishly stare at his bare body, flexing them before getting back into position. He was fit and toned just as Cleopatra predicted.

As much as Jeno knew how wild your thoughts were getting, he was more taken aback by your perky chest.

“Fuck, you are divine.” He sucked one nipple as his fingers ventured to slip your panties down. So much was going on, you didn’t know which stimulated you more. You tried to close your legs around his hand, but he slapped your inner thigh to stop you.

The cool breeze shivered you, especially from your core. Jeno’s fingers adventurously grazed from your hip area to your lower lips. He teasingly rubbed it up and down in your essence, his index finger settling it right at your needy clit. Another moan escaped your lips, an opportunity for Jeno to slide his tongue in your mouth. Enjoying the moment, his fingers dipped inside you. A gasp broke your kiss, making him giggle in your ear.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Oh, angel. The things I want to do with you.”

Sliding them back and forth, curling it even, you squirmed for more. Dropping himself to meet your core, Jeno placed your legs on his shoulder. Pushing you closer, his steamy breath felt like friction. Your hips grinded against it, so he gripped on them so you stay put.

“Angel,” He chuckled darkly, his crotch tightening at how powerless you looked. “You’re so pretty.”

You were drenched from arousal. But to Jeno, you were glowing under the lights. He wanted to take his time to admire what he had done to you. His independent girl, only weak for him.

His fingers unfolded in your lower lips, diving in to your orbit. You could hardly speak from his skilled mouth, especially his tongue savagely lapping your clit in numerous paces. You’ve only daydreamed about what it could do aside from kissing, and it exceeded your expectations. By the heated sensation that had the heels of your feet digging his back deeply, you affirmed to have seen more stars than the night sky above you.

Your back arched uncontrollably while his hands grasped your hips to stay in place, the tears in your eyes formulating while tugging on his hair. Your thighs clenched around his face, but his broad shoulders widened it to taste more of you. No use of pulling away when his grip on you was tight, so you could only cry out from the pleasure.

“Fuck!”

The ringing sounds in your off were going off, your throat drying up from moaning once another orgasm was about to hit. Once the knot in you snapped, nothing could hold back your screams of pleasure whilst panting for air. Sensitive as he licked every remaining essence he caused, he smirked as he got up to unbuckle his jeans.

Oh, boy. He got quite a package behind his boxers.

Even while you were overly sensitive, you had to grasp it in your hands. He was yours, and you were his.

The way you clenched around his protected length, pausing to readjust yourself to the feeling. The foreplay deemed helpful, though the girth of him overwhelmed you. He stretched you out so good.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)?” The stunned face you made was expected, still feeling worried that it may be too much.

Biting your lip, you moaned once everything felt bearable. “You can move, Jeno.”

None of you could track exactly how many rounds you went through. Even in the semi-public area, it didn’t hinder either of you. There’s that thrill, and surprisingly enough, you both shared the liking of it. Always switching the positions, you decided to call it quits after another sloppy round in missionary. Something seeing Jeno on top, fully submitting yourself to him, made you feel calm to be vulnerable. It’s really the trust you’ve established from the start, making you rely on humans again once you’ve let the past be.

Jeno brought out another blanket, initially meant for cuddling. It was still applicable though, curling your body into a spoon towards his racing chest. Music was no longer noise, the intimacy creeping back instead of lust this time. The afterglow of Jeno, sweaty and knackered as his legs sprawled under the sheet, was a sight for sore eyes. He’s always been handsome while on duty, but post-sex gave him an extra boost.

Plus there’s pride from the red marks courtesy of you on his chest, grazing over it softly.

Jeno chuckled softly at your smooth fingers, lifting them up to kiss them tenderly before kissing your lips again. Only humans were capable of and to love, but you’re some kind of an exception. Regardless of the magic from the plate, you’d be able to love too if it weren’t for your background.

There’s so much love Jeno wanted to offer you, even if he hasn’t said it out loud yet.

Perhaps one reason was because time was beginning to tick. Finals were a few weeks away, then the one-month long semestral break until a new semester kicks off. Time really flew by, and his bank account and heart expanded too. Enjoying the now was all he could think of doing, but those uncertainties bothered him.

The biggest would be where you and he would stand when his job ended.

Jeno was too absorbed in his internal debate, as portrayed by his eyes staring off in space and running his hand in his hair repeatedly. Something was disturbing him, and you’re concerned as to what it was.

“Jeno,” Around his arm, you tapped his chest to get him out of it. “What’s going on in your head?”

Jeno approached every obstacle he faces straightforwardly, not wanting to let him hold back. Rarely did he keep secrets, especially from you. Instead of hiding away, he voiced it out.

“(Y/N), will we work out?”

“What do you mean, Jeno?”

You’re so occupied in the present that thinking of the future was never in your field. Like him, you’re just enjoying being in the moment. Though after tonight, it’s making you wonder if there’s a future.

“Well,” He placed his hand on top of yours, affectionately observing you. “Times flies faster when you’re having fun, and well, the semester is ending.”

His last words crushed a part of your heart, remembering his initial plan. None of you expected your friendship to bloom into what it is now, but life was just full of surprises without a schedule. At the same time, none of you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It may have been a few months since you two committed to each other, but the spark was still strong. It wasn’t like a summer romance kind of feeling. Time was not a determinant of love either, which you were certain of it with Jeno. A lot more than Junmyeon.

It should’ve frightened you when you realized your love for Jeno, but it didn’t. Even if you didn’t age physically, your mindset did. You’ve learned to forgive your younger self, and through Jeno, you let your guard down completely. From that, you let love in. Platonic to your fellow art pieces, and all of the above to Jeno.

Throughout your relationship, you regained all confidence in yourself and everything you set your mind to.

“I wouldn’t want to worry too much about it if I were you.” Your body flipped to lie on your stomach, resting your head on your palm.

“Why shouldn’t I, angel?”

Gazing back at him, you left a velvety kiss on his lips to rest his thoughts. His hand wrapped your neck, deepening it. But you pulled away with a giggle, all too knowing of his secret intentions as his cock began to harden again. His eyes narrowed down and his lower lip stuck out at your attempt of being a tease.

But enough about sex, you wanted to address a point.

Lee Jeno was going to be the biggest risk you wanted to take and fight for, and no one should try to stop you.

“I’ll ask Circe for a potion. For me, for you, for us.”

If it weren’t for insistent questioning towards every art piece, who kept their mouths shut, only Circe herself banished him from his suffering. Her series of potions varied, and the one you requested years ago which you threw out was capable of turning any art piece into a living human. No potion of Circe ever failed, so you entrusted your life for the day you do drink it.

“Are you sure, angel?”

Jeno knew about that one specifically, and as great to hear that you never threw it out, he never put pressure on you. He wanted you to do whatever felt right, even if deep down, he wished you’d use it. He was only worried about how the flow of the entire museum would be disrupted.

Typical Jeno always looking out for you, but you saw right through his concern. Here you were, caressing his check as reassurance. With an honest smile,

“I’ve never been more certain with anything in my life here until you came, Lee Jeno.”

Jeno opened up more to his life outside the museum, telling all sorts of experiences not just his days as a university student. From his childhood, his family, his travels, heck you even want to meet his friends at this point!

Newly, he shared with you how the sunrise and sunset looked like in Seoul with much vivacity. It’s a luxury as a human to witness as day breaks and ends, so you could imagine by yourself how it would look like. Sure, you had drawings and all, but that was from the real (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

This version of you wanted to live more; that’s your greed now.

“You’ve never touched snow too, right?” Jeno, who had his arm wrapped around you, silently watched the first batch of snow from inside.

“Yup, that’s the thing when you’re imprisoned in this place.” You sulked by his side, earning a chuckle from him who pulled you in closer.

“Don’t tell me now that you despise this place.”

“I don’t, but it hinders me to experience new things. The whole pattern of being awake at night by a plate gets tiring, Jeno.”

All Jeno would do when you’re frustrated was placing your head on his shoulder, listening as you talk.

“I know, angel. But it won’t be long until you leave this place with me, right?”

“You know it!” You interlocked your hands with him, eyes trained at every falling snowflake.

Sometimes, moments in silence with Jeno were all you needed for the night. Being within each other’s presence, focusing or admiring something from afar, it was all the peace you’ve needed from the bustling art pieces.

This week was the last of the semester, and Jeno’s off duty for tonight to focus on his exams. You’ll see him tomorrow night, which was his last shift ever, and also yours too.

Perhaps the biggest milestone you’re committing to without any regrets.

However, it took an unnecessary conversation you accidentally eavesdropped on to rock your decision.

You needed more ink after running out mid-way of sketching the sculptures as a secret parting gift. Before you could take a single step inside your exhibit room, a series of voices were full-on arguing. Booming back and forth, you peeped your ear out whilst hiding against the door.

“Athena, how dare you did to her?! She’s done so well from moving on from it, falling in love even! And now you’re telling me this?!” The distinct voice of Princess Diana, who spoke sweetly most of the time, boomed towards the Greek god. “You’re heartless.”

“I did what I had to do for the sake of this place, Diana!” Athena raised her voice, the lightning in her hands holding back from lashing out. She hated it when anyone argued with her, especially when she does things according to what she believed was necessary. Out of everyone, she had more leadership. “She had to know that her place is here as a wax figure, not outside. Talking Junmyeon out of it was for the best, plus it’s ideal when he drank the potion of memory loss from Circe.”

“But it tore her apart when he left her, and it’s going to tear her again if you do the same with Jeno.”

“How else are you going to approach the situation then, Diana? Those two have broken the highest golden rule, so they need to wake up.”

Right when she celebrated within herself for healing, hearing the unbearable revelation behind the past devastated you. This whole time, she internally blamed herself for being ageless and lashed out at others. The scary past barged back in, and you couldn’t handle it anymore.

Somewhere in the corner, you wept without a trace. You could care less about Athena’s opinions, but you found yourself agreeing to some of her words. You had a role to fulfill, and leaving that behind would be selfish and it could make the museum go topsy-turvy. As painful for Junmyeon to leave you, it was because the truth hurts. Nothing could change it, even if Circe could be your solution because it’ll leave a lot of questions. You didn’t want Jeno to be seen as a suspect.

Oh, Jeno.

There’s nothing wrong with falling in love either, you didn’t intend it to happen. But it becomes unfair when it compromises with your purpose, and that’s not how you are. You’ll always remember Jeno as your biggest risk, though it’s time to end things. Treacherous as it was to accept for you, risk-takers have boundaries too.

Fast forward, on the night of Jeno’s last shift, you’ve cherished every second with him. Playing around, chatting with other art pieces, kissing in private, you made it count. Before dawn broke, that’s where you chose to come clean by the garden, your sacred place. Not even your self-reassurance could prepare you to witness the hurt and confusion Jeno felt.

“You’re a mortal, and you still get to choose your path. Mine is already predetermined here as a wax copy of a historical figure.” You advised as you held both his hands, your voice shaking at the reality.

A few days ago, you were beaming with exhilaration at a new journey but now you’ve permanently backed out. Jeno couldn’t comprehend, and as much as he tried, he couldn’t. A life without you by his side would be empty and dull. “Even so, there are things about you that the original person didn’t have.”

Arguing with him wasn’t your favorite, and it’ll leave the two of you in a bad mood. But there is no way to negotiate this; you’ve already made up your mind. “We must end this, Jeno. You need someone who can grow old with you, and I can’t be that person for you.”

“But we can make it work!” His hands gripped on your slumped shoulders, whilst your face avoiding his to spare yourself from the heartache. “There’s still Circe.”

“I know, but recently, I found out that she’s an indirect cause of my misery.” Pulling away from his touch, you belted with frustration. “I cannot do this anymore, Jeno.”

You’ve always fought for whatever you wanted in life, and Jeno knew he was one of them if it weren’t for you telling him that. So he did the same, thinking of ways to make you feel whole. Now, he couldn’t tolerate the sudden crumbling of his heart from your outburst, and all he wanted to know was why you felt this way. How could he help you?

You don’t keep secrets from Jeno, but the truth behind your harsh actions cannot be revealed for the sake of the museum. Plus, you didn’t want him to despise this place he admired. Causing him pain wasn’t on your list, but keeping him safe was. It may be shown differently and he may not understand it now, but over time, he will.

“Jeno, you’ll find someone better out there. Someone with their whole life ahead of them, who’ll love you for everything that makes you who you are.” Repetitive punches in your guts urged you to barf at your half-lie, but you held it in.

“Why are you pushing me away? What happened to taking risks, (Y/N)?” Jeno interrogated, taking your hands in his hands again. They unconventionally quivered, like his lips. Jeno has never cried in front of anyone, not even when he was younger. Though for you, he just might. “Am I not worth it for you?”

Dear heavens, he was wrong. You internally screamed that, but you can’t let your selfishness seize the night. As Athena said, you had to wake up from your dream. “Committing to you was my biggest risk of them all, Jeno. Everything else that went along with it, I don’t regret it one bit. But time’s really up for us, and we must resume our normal duties.”

“I can’t lose you, (Y/N).”

“You never will, Jeno.”

He crouched lower to meet your height, his finger moving your head so you’d look at him back. Weakly enough, you did. “I want you to be a part of my normal life, angel.”

“I’ll always be here, you know. I’ll be standing in my usual spot upstairs, and you can drop by whenever you can.” You pressed your lips, lifting your head to avoid incoming tears. Meanwhile, he began shedding a few. You’ve hurt him big time, and you’ll never forgive yourself for this. “I still have one wish, right?”

Jeno’s sorrow was beyond his capacity, leaning his forehead against yours to kiss it. No matter what he could say or do, he already knew it won’t be effective. You’re affirmative in your choices, yet he still wanted to challenge it. All he wanted to know was why you’re doing this.

“Let me walk you one last time to your section.”

The black night sky had remnants of blue, motioning that dawn was approaching. Other figures gave their goodbyes to Jeno earlier, cleaning up their areas before they pose. Though none of them anticipated such a cold atmosphere between you two, they could only spy on what was bound to happen.

“My last wish is for you to let me go, Jeno.” You avowed, blinking your eyes with faux positivity. Your hands patted his blazer so it wouldn’t crease. “I already have a role to fulfill here, and you’re on the way to yours, future architect.”

“I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Only tonight did he muster his courage to finally admit it to you after giving himself more time to analyze it. Timing was always crucial, and the badness of it showed.

Deep in your heart, you resonated the feeling. But it’ll make things more complicated, and it was the final thing you’ve wanted to occur. Someone had to be the strong one, and now, it should be you. With one more compassionate kiss on his lips, you stepped inside your section and readied your position.

“Goodbye, Lee Jeno.”

The sunshine brightened the room, and you’ve frozen to slumber again.

All Jeno could do was drop on his knees, sobbing over your rash actions. Unknown to him, a single tear left your eye as you posed.

Regardless of what status you were in, the pain of it all remained.

Jeno spent most of his semestral break with his friends to travel or whatnot, trying to forget it all. Even if he aced all his finals, his efforts felt like nothing if he never had you by his side to celebrate.

The sting over his short-lived romance with you never diminished the slightest, no one whom he could express his pain about it to especially when Renjun drank the memory wipe potion that Athena initially left for Jeno by his desk.

Forget it all, and live a peaceful life. You have so much potential, my mentee.

- Athena

Perhaps this was the same thing Junmyeon drank all those years ago, but unlike him, he didn’t have the guts to. He still wanted another chance.

So every day since the new semester began, he spent every afternoon break at your section. He’ll be seated by the bench, doing his assignments and talking about his day while sometimes stealing a glance of your figure. Some habits don’t change.

He never got sick of the same smile you exemplified, falling even more for you. He’ll often wonder what you’ve been up to.

What are your new sketches?

Are you taking care of Mochi well?

Have you apologized to Sanghoon yet?

Speaking of him, he surprisingly scooted over to Jeno’s side. This was the first time Jeno met the man, and politely enough greeted him. Sanghoon interviewed the boy, asking all sorts of questions that Jeno had every answer to. The biggest change that Sanghoon noticed since he left was your personality. You no longer bite, but treat everyone kindly without bias. You’re always active to help him out in cleaning the lobby, and you don’t go easily defensive.

Once he found out that Jeno was the reason for that, he was overjoyed at the start and wanted to meet him some way. You were a tough cookie, but now you relaxed. That was all that mattered to him, hoping to know more about him from you. That was until Diana stepped in and told him everything that happened. Mostly, the bad.

Playfulness eventually bore love. The last time you fell in love was in the 80s and Junmyeon pushed you away, he recalled. This time, you’re pushing Jeno away because you simply agreed with Athena’s points.

This wasn’t right, but it wasn’t his place to interfere.

But then again, he finally caught Jeno for the first time today and this time, he was open to hearing his side of the story. Lessen his misery too.

“No matter how stubborn she is, she loves you.” He advised him, bringing out one of your full sketchbooks. As Jeno opened it, the majority of the portraits were him. Sleeping, smiling, laughing, you drew him from every minor detail you could spot like the mole near his eye and his crescent eyes.

A handsome face I would never get sick until the end of time. Someone I want to wake up to every day in the morning if it weren’t for that plate.

- (Y/N)

Towards the end, a sketch of a house unfolded. The interior was a fusion of modernity and old royal design due to its white walls, wide space, and the placing of less furniture, plus an open backyard. There’s another tiny comment on the side from you.

I was right. Joining our varying designs together is pretty. Maybe Jeno and I could live in a house like this one day.

- (Y/N)

If you loved him so much, why did you let him go then when you had all these plans with him? Even if he tried to understand, he just didn’t.

“Don’t give up just yet when she told you to.”

“Are you just saying this or something?”

“Well, Princess Diana passed this message on but after everything, I believe that she’s right.” Sanghoon gave his opinion, but Jeno was reluctant to accept it.

“I never got a proper explanation why she suddenly changed her mind, Sanghoon.” He ranted, raking his hand through his hair from puzzlement. “Did I do something wrong?”

Sanghoon pitied him, having the upper hand and questioning himself whether to reveal the truth. However, since this boy took the job, he’s succumbed to secrecy. Without any transparency, it could drive someone mad. He’s too young for that, so Sanghoon breathed in defeat and placed his hand on Jeno’s shoulder.

“Promise me you won’t be mad when I tell you because I was when I found out; almost screamed even.”

Jeno nodded, listening to whatever Sanghoon had to say.

Of all people, he never would’ve expected Athena to do such a brash thing. Someone he respected and trusted, only to betray him by doing something she believed was good for all. Except it wasn’t, and it ended up hurting you all these years. The woman he loved, now he’s a clearer understanding of why you did what you did. Yet, it can’t fix his excruciation.

Heartbroken was an understatement; he had no one to rely on. With Sanghoon, he finally had a proper breakdown. The older man could only comfort his quietly, picturing him like one of his sons going through a hard time in school. But if it involves the heart, it’ll take more time to recover.

“You’re always the one adjusting, Jeno. But I think this time, you’re the one who needs space.”

A Year and a Half Later

“Jeno Lee!!!” Jaemin roughly wallowed his best friend in a hug when he arrived in their dorm room for the first time in a long time. “You dyed your hair blonde again!”

Renjun, who was behind the two of them, only rolled his eyes as he helped carry Jeno’s bags. “God damn it, Jaemin! You’re supposed to be helping me first!”

“I know, but give me a few seconds! I’m just happy our group is back together!”

Jeno laughed at his friends’ annoying yet silly dynamics, giddy to be back home. For a year, Jeno spent his 3rd year of university in Rome, Italy after one of his professors brought up to him about a scholarship program there for his course. At the time where he needed a change of scenery, he sent his application form and got interviewed.

Acing it, he had the opportunity to fly across the world to study and travel. His English skills surely improved, even picking up Italian words along the way due to a required class for it. He studied the history of different locations and how they were built.

He also went on field trips almost every day if it weren’t for the Italian students assigned to tour him around, academic and non-academic. Nights he spent on drinking wine on the rooftop of his dorm with them, screaming his complaints in the world with them.

It didn’t hit him that his stay was reaching its end until he submitted his final plate. His goodbye party didn’t even feel like one, but a see you later in the next few years after he becomes a licensed architect with money. His goal of it felt more realistic, motivating him to excel in his remaining years in university.

After unpacking half of his things, he was reminded of an email from one of the head professors, who requested another copy of his confidential documents from the Italian university he went to as soon as he’s back on campus.

He raced to the department with a folder of them and luckily encountered the said professor. Handing it to him, this professor questioned how he was and what experiences he gained from the trip. With excitement, Jeno spoke all sorts of tales from his adventures, highlighting how determined he was now to be an architect.

“That’s great to hear, Jeno!” He celebrated, checking on his watch, and widened his eyes. Frantic at his colliding schedules, he asked Jeno for a favor. It turned out that at the same time as his emergency meeting, he’s supposed to tour the new transferee student around campus.

“Only if you have time, Jeno! I could always ask another student, plus you just came back and need rest.”

“It’s not like I left for a decade, sir. No worries, I’ll do it.”

“Oh, bless your soul.” He put his hands together in prayer position, bowing back and forth with gratitude. “Wait, she’s right outside! Go ahead and introduce yourself.”

Jeno nodded, exiting right through the department doors. This girl had her back turned, inspecting her surroundings. She wore a black and white tweed blazer that matched with her skirt, black high heeled boots, and a black handbag. She must be a foreigner, Jeno thought.

“Excuse me, are you the transferee in the department of Architecture?”

Jeno didn’t brace himself for the surprise he’d face once this girl reacted to him calling her out. Her face was one he could never forget, no matter how many times he told himself to. The same face he convinced his heart to stop beating for, yet it lied.

This radiant face was none other than yours.

Jeno almost dropped his phone. He tried his best to hold on to your promise, but he failed. It was the main reason he studied abroad; to forget and focus on his career path. So the least thing he could’ve done was to study hard for his dream career.

Just a glimpse of you projected back every single memory you’ve had together. Beautiful yet heart-wrenching, he kept his emotions to himself.

You even wore the rose necklace he got you. Could it be?

“It’s been a while, Lee Jeno.” You took the metaphorical scissors to cut the tension, trying to contain the crushing feelings. The faculty center was a public place, yet it’s like the two of you were on the main stage.

“Do you remember me?” Astounded, you nodded. Every single detail.

Jeno could’ve ran away, but didn’t. He could’ve left you hanging, but didn’t. He can no longer count how many times you’ve appeared in his dreams, only to be disappointed when morning comes to not have you in his arms. He took one step closer, taking his time.

“How do you know me?”

“You’re the boy whom I helped with his assignment, argued with me over Romeo and Juliet,” You mimicked his move, making you one step nearer to him. “And most of all, the boy I once gave my entire heart to.”

Another step, leaving a few inches between the two of you. His heart palpitated without caffeine. What if he was napping in his dorm again? It was all surreal. “Is it really you, (Y/N)?”

Hearing your name from his lips lowered your guard, you pleased him with a hopeful grin. “I’d be dust by now if I didn’t drink Circe’s potion, right?”

That’s where Jeno unchained himself from his emotions. He engulfed in a warm hug, one that has no plans to let go when his chin planted on your shoulder. You returned the gesture, dropping all your worries away along with your bag and papers as your arms snaked through his neck.

You knew you had to part ways for a while after everything, though you were unsure how he’d feel about it. You recalled every time he visited you after his job ended up until his intense chat with Sanghoon, where he bawled his heart out. You couldn’t take it anymore after trying to stay strong, crying as soon as you woke up that night.

All your fellow figures could do was soothe you down like before to the best of their abilities, yet this time, it was unsuccessful. You’re filled with misery, realizing later how much of a big mistake you’ve made.

You’ve isolated yourself again for a while, but less rudeness and more silence. It was until Circe visited you. She doesn’t like getting involved with drama, though now was different. She, alongside Hera and Aphrodite, couldn’t withstand you tolerating the heartbreak again. So they went behind Athena’s back on this one time and created a potion together just for you. But with a compromise.

“This potion can turn you into a human. However, there’s only a 10% chance you’ll regain all your memories from this place.”

“So I’ll forget everyone and him?”

“Yes, unfortunately.” You’re about to shoo her away, not in the mood to do something drastic as that. But Circe grabbed your arm again. “I strongly believe that if you and he meant to be, then there will come a time these past memories will suddenly surge at you.”

“Must I need to forget to live properly?”

You’re stubborn, and Circe expected it. “You’ve broken so many golden rules, (Y/N), so it must be done. I’ve gone against Athena for this potion, and rarely have I done that. So rather than wallowing up in misery, you should focus on yourself. Do what makes you happy because this place is trapping you from every great thing out there.”

Those were the word that the actual (Y/N) (Y/L/N) lived by, nevertheless, you’re unique from her. You built a separate identity from her. “But Jeno-”

“At the right time, (Y/N). Pull yourself together and do all the things you’ve dreamt of before he came into the picture. I just know he loves you that much, and that he will wait for you.”

That same night, you gathered all your senses and drank it. The transition was fast as lightning speed, and behold, you were like a new person. You’re back in London, with a family that closely resembled your former one; only 3 older siblings, making you the youngest. You also had a new set of memories, from childhood until your adult years.

From (Y/N) (Y/L/N), you became (Y/N) Edwards.

It took one drunken night out with your university friends for the unlikely surge of old memories to speedily hit through your intoxicated state. Way beyond a dream, you’ve dropped your shot glass and broke down in the bathroom of your dorm room. You left something unaccomplished, and you had to do something before it’s too late.

Thus, you rushed to Seoul thanks to your parents’ support as they agreed that exploring outside your home country was a great experience. The only excuse you gave to your friends for the sudden transfer was you finding a new calling.

Sure, studying abroad was an exciting thing but you’re more determined to reunite with him. Even if this encounter was unforeseen, it was bound to happen one day. It so turned out that you had the same major in your former university and this new one.

Head to toe, you remembered everything.

“I’m so sorry I took so long.” You cradled your head on his chest, unaware of how your new life left Jeno so troubled.

“That doesn’t matter anymore.” Jeno tightened his grip, scared of releasing you again. Those two years felt like a breath of fresh air and a punch in the gut. “I tried to live up to your last wish, but I really can’t.”

“I want to take that wish back, Jeno. I wasn’t thinking right and only ended putting you through so much.”

“Oh, angel. I slowly understood why you did it.” Before he got too fragile, he softened his grip on you and showed his face again to you. He wanted a better look at his pretty girl, his fingers brushing strands of your hair behind your ear. Heart-fluttering, you bit your bottom lip. “What would you want to wish for instead?”

“Instead of you letting me go, I wish you could take me back and love me again. I can’t undo the past, but I’d still like to think I’ve tried my best.” That was the only wish you could ever think of. As huge as it was, it was something he may not accept. Yet you gave it a go, risking it all. “I don’t deserve you at all, Jeno.”

“Don’t say that, (Y/N).” One of his hands grabbed yours, putting it on his cheek. Cupping it, “I’ve never stopped loving you, you know.”

Oh, love. An all-too familiar emotion that either makes or breaks you. Of all the times you could’ve said those words, you held back, especially that wretched night you two broke it off. Although you showed it, being able to say it to someone felt more empowering.

This was finally the chance you’ve unconsciously waited for.

“I’m stupid for not saying this sooner.”

“What is it?”

With intimate eye contact, you drowned in the comfort of his brown orbs. You trusted him then, and you trusted him now. “I love you, Lee Jeno.”

Secretly, Jeno anticipated for the day you’d say those meaningful 3 words. Just like you, he showed more affection through actions than words. He only admitted when he lost you, and never would he do the same mistake again. If he felt that the love was strongly present, he will say it aloud.

“I love you still, (Y/N).” His arm around your waist tugged you in further. “I loved you as (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I will continue to love you as (Y/N) Edwards.”

He peeked on your ID earlier, but regardless, he stood by his truth. You’re still the same (Y/N).

Finally, he closed the limited space between your lips. The memories of your past romance replayed in sync of every touching kiss, popping one leg up like in the movies. The Princess Diaries, specifically. Like in the museum from your unbearable parting, one warm tear freed itself down your cheek.

The sweetness of being reunited with you again beat the torturous wait of Jeno. Time really made your hearts grow fonder. As everyone said, if the love between two people is real, then it’ll find its way back to each other.

The world must be on your side too because no professor called you two out on your public display of affection. Jeno pecked your lips one time before stepping away, picking up the things you dropped.

“Now come on, I have to tour you around as instructed.”

You stomped on your feet, rolling your eyes from being left hanging. He’s still the same tease from before. “After that kiss though, I would’ve thought we could reschedule it.”

“No can do, Edwards.” Passing over your things, he wrapped one arm around you as he escorted you out of the building. The university was huge, with more buildings and green fields surrounded everywhere. “Left or right? There are a lot of places you missed out on all those years.”

“Point taken. Then you lead the way, my love.”

346 notes · View notes

butwhatifidothis · 3 years ago

Text

Tumblr is starting to VERY MUCH dislike how long the other reblog chain is getting, so this will be Reblog Chain 2 of my jotting down notes of this fic. Here is the first reblog chain for Chapters 1-20

But it appears as though I was correct in sleeping off Chapter 20, because Chapter 21 is. Hm. bad. Very. Not good.

Chapter 21:

Transcript under the cut:

Chapter 21: It's Called Scars so it Gonna Be Ass

- To be blunt, the constant need to reaffirm that yes, Edelgard went through terrible experimentation and that yes, they were very horrific, is tiring. This is chapter 21. The experiments occurred in chapter 2. Every single chapter between now and then have, at some point, mentioned that INDEED, Edelgard DID in fact go through horrific trauma. It is tiring to the reader to constantly have to reread the same thing - we know it happened. We know it was terrible. There's no need to constantly say so; we already understand as readers.

- "Every time the spark of life broke through Byleth’s blank face, it brought a flickering hope to the Flame Emperor’s heart." ->

- Firstly: Awkward use of the Flame Emperor epithet (its usage is on and off with how appropriate its been - this is off).

- Secondly: Once again, Byleth's face was rarely if ever blank. She was never the Ashen Demon, as even the last chapter showcased. The author is mistaking reservation with emotionlessness, which is simply wrong

- "There had been so many empty days and nights, without friendship, love or joy. With nothing to hope for, except someday, the peace of the grave." -> Suicidal tendencies: another trait that Edelgard doesn't have... (strikes against canon: 89)

- ...but Dimitri does. Counter: 12

- "Dimitri, too, was troubled by the thought, grasping the side of his head and frowning. As the spasm passed, he turned to Edelgard and smiled warmly." -> It seems a little callous to so casually toss Dimitri's symptoms into his interactions with others when such things simply don't occur in the canon interactions. It's not impossible, or strictly against canon, but it does not feel natural; it's more as though the author is shining bright neon signs that say DIMITRI HAS MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES than a genuine attempt at writing Dimitri's mental health issues. This is not the first time this sort of seemingly thoughtless showcasing of symptoms has happened (Noted separately: Dimitri having drastic mood swings)

- "No, this world must be ruled by humans…not cruel gods who ignored the prayers of little girls." -> This statement follows Edelgard internally chastising the actions of not gods, but the Children of the Goddess. This is a weaselly attempt at dodging Edelgard's racist beliefs that Nabateans should not be allowed positions of power by shifting the belief to apply to miscellaneous gods instead. While not inaccurate per se - she does also canonically believe that gods should have no power in human affairs - it is not honest

- "Byleth nodded with childlike simplicity. “We should all try to get along.”" -> Again describing Byleth as childlike and/or innocent. Counter: 3

- For those curious: yes, the rat scene is implemented, yes it is sloppy, yes it is out of character for Claude - so much so that it is being noted separately - and yes it is forced to all hell

- What will be noted here, however, is that this is yet another instance of a man being demeaned/humiliated for the honor of a woman. See quote: "Byleth was on him in an instant, a tempest forming in the sea of her blue eyes. “That isn’t funny.” She crossed her arms sternly. “Jokes are about bringing people together...about making them smile. Right now, the only person laughing is you.”" with Claude reacting awkwardly. Once again, Man Bad Woman Good

- In a showcasing of a complete lack of self-awareness within the fic: "“Maybe if you’d have taught the Deer instead…but since you seem to have no ambitions outside of cleaning up Edelgard’s messes…”" -> This is Claude being portrayed as the bad guy, not the one being completely and utterly right

- " She slapped Edelgard on the back, and smiled heartily. “I agree, Dimitri!” Edelgard grimaced, trying to hide the fact her teacher had just struck the wound she had received during the mock battle." -> As well as where undoubtedly countless scars would be, yes? Scars that still cause Edelgard pain? In fact, Edelgard has been slapped on the back by Byleth and Jeralt numerous times before, and yet expresses no pain or discomfort.

- Another thing, that I had not noted though ought to have: Edelgard, a victim of sexual assault (in this fic), rarely seems to mind people touching her. She gets a little surprised if someone tries to get her attention with touch, yes, but Byleth's constant unprompted and random touching of Edelgard is never said to do anything but bring warmth and joy and comfort to Edelgard. It seems as though Edelgard suffering through sexual assault is just another source of trauma for the author to dump onto her for nothing more than pity points

- This is incredibly harsh to say, yes, and I would usually refrain from attributing such harshness onto a piece of text, but remember that Edelgard's scars only cause her pain when it's convenient, that she only experiences headaches when it's convenient, that she experiences PTSD episodes (when Claude mentions the rat) when it's convenient (note that in this fic he does it outside of battle, where her getting triggered wouldn't compromise her chances at victory). Edelgard not being touch averse and being a victim of sexual assault are not inherently something bad - survivors react to trauma differently, after all - but it is another in a steadily longer line of instances where Edelgard is simply given trauma for the sake of making her pitiable to the reader and the love interest, not something that Edelgard genuinely has to struggle with.

- "As Claude and Dimitri looked at their classmate expectantly, Edelgard was wracked with another bout of guilt. Deep in her soul, the princess knew these peaceful days would end soon. When that happened, no feast or vows of friendship could make up for the chaos and horror she would unleash. It would be better to pull away, close off her heart, rather than fuel the flames of her inevitable betrayal." -> Aka, "Feel bad for me, I feel guilty for planning to cause the death and ruination of countless innocents' lives all because I convinced myself that my way is the only way to get things done my way without ever actually trying to see if more peaceful ways could have worked. I'm going to orphan children, force families to fight each other, have the land be rampaged by banditry, and overall bring chaos onto these days that I ADMIT ARE PEACEFUL all because I feel that my way would be better. Wah wah pity me but I don't wanna be pitied I promise wah wah."

- "Byleth shrugged with a characteristic blend of innocence and spirit. “I guess I just like winning.” She began to blush and grabbed Edelgard’s hand. "It's so exciting! I’ve never had anyone other than Papa to celebrate with before!”" -> Byleth = innocent/childlike. Counter: 4

- The fic likes to reaffirm again and again that Byleth is "now" only acting like this due to Edelgard's presence in her life. Note also these statements written previously: "Every day, [Edelgard] was watching the person she loved grow and change. Become who she always was supposed to be." This, perhaps unintentionally, again enforces the "Lesbian Love is Pure and Innocent" trope; these wlw are only allowed to be their good girl, innocent selves - who they were always supposed to be - due to the pure lesbian love they have found with one another

- Count Bergliez didn't know of the experiments initially, but he eventually found out and did nothing to stop them, fleeing from a young and tortured El who was pleading for him to save her - Unnecessarily painting Count Bergliez as a spineless coward too afraid of Duke Aegir to save a child in pain

- Once again, a man fails to save a woman and further traumatizes her

- It should be noted that Bergliez is fearful not for his own life, but for that of his children, who were the ones Duke Aegir threatened. He, very similar to Ionius, cannot save Edelgard, except Bergliez (unlike Ionius) has a tangible, physical, explainable reason as to why he couldn't, and yet it is him who is painted as the bad guy, not Ionius. He is worthy of Edelgard's scorn and hatred, but Ionius only receives a begrudging feeling of betrayal from Edelgard that she feels guilty for harboring, even though he failed her far more than Bergliez failed her.

- "Daughters must always be loyal to their fathers" trope

- "No decent person thought the things Edelgard did. Just as her body had been twisted and shattered by the experiments, her mind bore terrible scars. Scars that the monster kept hidden, so she could walk in the world of men." -> Dehumanizing oneself as a monster as well as having violent thoughts (that specifically stem from trauma) one feels guilty for harboring are not traits Edelgard shows in canon... (strikes against canon, 90, 91)

- ...but Dimitri does. Counter: 13, 14

- "world of men?" Did the author perhaps mean "world of man," as in mankind? Keep note of

- The reason as to why Bergliez is said to have witnessed young El's tortured state and did nothing to help her is revealed: in canon, he dislikes her. It is blatantly and objectively said that he and Edelgard share a mutual displeasure in the other's company. What this fic had him do will be used as an excuse as to why he doesn't hate her, since no one is allowed to dislike Edelgard on the "good" side

- Edelgard, upon being asked if revenge is the reason she is doing what she's doing (reuniting Fodlan): "“No.” Edelgard put her hand to her chin thoughtfully. “I think for a long time, it was…but after a while, I realized that revenge wouldn’t satisfy me.” She looked at the blue sky above. “After you go through that much suffering…when you beg for help, day after day, and no one cares...you realize that nothing will ever truly make you feel safe again. The only thing I want is for this madness to end.”" -> This is internally inconsistent. See chapter 15 note: ""You know why they created me in the first place.” / “To reunite Fódlan,” spat Hubert. “It was all my father talked about.” / “And I will give it to them. "" This directly connects Edelgard's want to reunite Fodlan to the wants of her tormenters (as this states she is doing it out of spite). Note how Hubert spits at the idea of reuniting Fodlan, and how it was all his father - portrayed as a villain - talked about. This is not what this Edelgard wants, at least not of her own independent want. Earlier in this very chapter, Edelgard internally states a want to hurt Bergliez for leaving her behind. To say that she now no longer thinks vengeance would satisfy her, or that none of the reason that she is doing everything she does is out of a want for revenge, is ridiculous

- Edelgard to Bergliez, upon being asked what will happen to him and his family should Edelgard rise to power: "“All those who distinguish themselves will be rewarded. Given your history, I have little doubt you will be among them.” She nervously played with her white gloves. “All I ask is that when I seize back control of the throne, I can count on the military’s support.”" -> Yes, all who distinguish themselves to Edelgard, for Edelgard's cause, that Edelgard can see and/or know of. How likely is it that a poor farmer who is exceptional at fighting will actually be noticed by Edelgard and be given the credit he deserves, when others who may not be as meritable but do have some merit have the connections to show themselves directly in front of Edelgard? What means will Edelgard give the poor soldiers (that she or Byleth aren't already friends with, notably Dorothea and Leonie) that will allow them to be able to be seen by her and have their merits recognized? Edelgard is the one who says who gains power after all, so it is her they must prove themselves to, but how can they realistically do that?

- What about professions that are not immediately beneficial to Edelgard's cause, such as the arts? How will they fare in Edelgard's society, when their works and talents yield no tangible, objective results (such as, say, farming)?

- Something the fic will address?

- Edelgard does not nervously do anything in front of those she is trying to negotiate with in canon, not even Thales. Strikes against canon: 92

- "[Bergliez] could only laugh in response. “I think we’re going to get along rather well, my lady…and the other?”" -> Except Bergliez and Edelgard don't get along well, ever. Pre ts they are stated to dislike each other, which continues even onto post ts with Bergliez being the only noble Edelgard couldn't bring to heel. Strikes against canon: 93

- As predicted: No one is allowed to dislike Edelgard on the "good" side

- Literally forgot Hubert was with Edelgard and Bergliez lmao

- Ionius tried to consolidate power to be rid of the consort system due to his unending love for Anselma -> A ridiculous idea, plain and simple. Ionius was Emperor. If he wished to be rid of the consort system there was no need for him to try and take away all power from the other Imperial houses.

- If Ionius truly loved Anselma, why did he allow her to be exiled from the Empire? Why didn't he step in and use his influence as Emperor to help her?

- Edelgard, when she is Emperor - passed down a supposedly empty crown, at that - showcases the all-encompassing power the title of Emperor truly holds to one willing to use that power. That Ionius supposedly wanted to do all of these reforms and yet nothing at all was done, ever (save for ruining Houses Hrym and Ordelia, something even this fic has as canon), if Ionius did want to make these reforms, means that he was too spineless and cowardly to truly go through with trying to pass them. This again unintentionally showcases how awful a ruler and weak-willed a person Ionius was when he had power when trying to paint him in this righteous light.

- Lambert was stated to be trying to pass reforms before he died in canon, not Ionius. From parents to the children, the author is attributing traits from Lambert onto Ionius just as he (author's confirmed gender is male) attributes traits from Dimitri onto Edelgard

- " Her father and mother…she had thought their romance a fairy tale-a story from her father to make a motherless child feel valued. But…they truly had loved each other." -> Edelgard does believe Ionius when he told her of the story of when he and Anselma (supposedly) met each other. There is nothing to indicate that Edelgard thought it to be a lie: in fact, in canon: "But I choose to believe there was genuine love between them." Strikes against canon: 94

- It seems as though finally, after around 18 chapters, Edelgard's scars will finally cause her genuine inconvenience due to her complex about them as well as her trust issues. She has a gash on her back from the Battle of Eagle and Lion, but will not have it treated if Manuela isn't the healer, and yet the woman is occupied dealing with the rest of the students who were injured. How will this fic deal with this?

- Ingrid, referring to her and Sylvain: ""We just switched from Felix lecturing us all day to listening to Edelgard moralizing, didn’t we?"" -> The author is trying to compare a childhood friend whose friends have had years to get used to their barbed tongue to a stranger that directly insults the dreams of one of them. Something which Ingrid canonically hates having be done to her, even from Felix, a childhood friend. Once again, Ingrid being so casual about Edelgard being so disrespectful of her dreams is out of character. Strikes against canon: 95

- "Sylvain shook his head knowingly, ignoring Felix’s truly alarming scowl. “You should have seen his face, Edelgard. Dimitri would go on and on about this girl he met when he was a kid…and Felix would complain about her for hours!” He looked at Felix and smiled. “For all his whining about the “Boar,” nobody loves Dimitri more than him.”" -> Oh? A romantic gay male relationship presenting itself within the fic?

- Another vision of SS experienced by Edelgard. Word from a nameless guard: "The woman, Byleth, leading their forces... She’s not human! She killed half my battalion with one swing of that sword of hers. She didn’t speak, she didn’t shout, she didn’t even change her expression!” The panicked man was teetering on the edge of hysteria. “All those people rallying around her, and it’s like she doesn’t care at all. Like she's a walking corpse!"" -> Obviously saying that Byleth becomes the Ashen Demon if not allowed to be with Edelgard.

- Unintentional statement: Byleth can't be the pure innocent (lesbian) woman without Edelgard's (lesbian) love granting her purity, reverting her to a monstrous, corrupt demon incapable of humanity

- See chapter 20 note: "Implying that choosing SS - aka, choosing the Nabateans - makes Byleth less human. Intentional?" Confirmed to be intentional. Also false: in canon, even when accounting for CF's lesser chapter count, Byleth emotes far more on SS than on CF, which matches with CF having Edelgard call Byleth detached in their A support. Strikes against canon: 96

- The same nameless soldier, same context: "And those Faerghus kids…” / Edelgard leaned forward in her chair. “Ingrid…Sylvain…what of them?” / “They…they were animals. Screaming and ranting about revenge for the King.” -> Is the author really demonizing Sylvain and Ingrid for (potentially!) being mad at Edelgard for murdering one of their childhood friends? Is that really the depths the Edelgard worship will sink to, that friends becoming enraged at a friend's unjust murder from a warlord is being portrayed as something sad for the warlord? Just what else should Edelgard be pitied for?

- "The scared girl desperately tried to drown out the thoughts that reverberated incessantly. / They’re going to despise us…it’s destiny. And how could they not? If we were truly good, the Goddess would have saved us…protected us. But She didn’t. The Goddess took Mother. She took our family. And soon, She’ll take everything else we love. She hates us. / It’s what we deserve." - Now confirmed that Edelgard hears multiple voices in her head tormenting her. That trait that, once again, Edelgard does not have... (Strikes against canon: 97)

- ...but Dimitri does. This is the third time this chapter that this has happened, and far from the only chapter to display such baffling characterization of Edelgard via Dimitri's traits. It is nonsensical.

- " Why had [Edelgard] even been born at all? Nonexistence would have been preferable to watching every faint dream be dashed, to suffering alone over and over. She was just…so tired of being alive." -> Once. Again. Suicidal tendencies/thoughts is not a trait Edelgard shows in canon... (Strikes against canon: 98)

- ...but Dimitri does. The fourth! The fourth time in one chapter the author desperately wanted to just write Dimitri!

- If the fic wanted to take Edelgard in a different direction than canon does and has her display some of these traits, it would be more passable, but this fic is under the delusion that it is in any way following canon closely, especially in regards to Edelgard, and so this can only be seen as a desperate attempt from the author to have Edelgard be sympathetic by donning the skin of an actually sympathetic character such as Dimitri

- "Edelgard looked at herself in the mirror. The back of her academy uniform was stained red, the rhythmic, soft dripping of blood assaulting the princess’ ears." -> And no one commented on this? No one was worried? Not Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix, who were sitting right by her? Not Lysithea, who saw her take the blow to her back and never get it healed? Not Dimitri, who delivered the blow? It just so happened that literally no one at all noticed this?

- Byleth literally slapped Edelgard on the back earlier? Wouldn't her hand come back red with blood if it were seeping through the uniform?

** The scene that follows the previous note is too long to quote, despite how truly terrible it is. Long quotes, even extremely long quotes, have been presented in these notes before, but the length this quotation would be if the full extent of it were written here would be a mess, and quite frankly, at that point it would do one better to simply go to the fanfiction itself and read the text from there. With the context received from these notes, if one wishes to see the words for themselves, go to chapter 21 of The Emperor and the Goddess, enter Ctrl + F (or Find in Page on mobile devices), and enter the phrase "Byleth crossed her arms, clearly frustrated" verbatim. The following note will not be quoting the entire scene from the fic (merely summarizing it), though context is needed to understand how truly bad the scene is. **

- To have hope in this fic performing anything correctly is proving to be a fool's dream, for it has yet to do anything right; that includes the aforementioned gash upon Edelgard's back. As stated, it did not draw the attention of those who were sitting around her nor did it draw the attention of the one who witnessed the injury itself, nor of the one who delivered the injury itself, so no one commented on the gaping, bleeding wound Edelgard was "hiding" from everyone as she turned her (bleeding) back to them and left for the baths to clean up (it must be heavily stressed: immediately after leaving it is revealed that the blood is seeping through her uniform). As she was washing - naked, of course - Byleth just so happened to step into the baths with only a towel wrapped around her "for modesty," much to the horror of Edelgard, for she does not want Byleth seeing her scarred body. A slight argument arises between the two over Edelgard getting her injuries checked, before Byleth warns Edelgard that she will go to Rhea and force her to go to the infirmary should Edelgard continue to refuse treatment, which drives Edelgard past the brink. She raises her arms from the bathwater and presents her scars (""Fine!... If you want to see so badly, here!""), to the horror of Byleth ("Byleth Eisner was not a woman given to strong emotional reactions, but she staggered back, hands over her mouth."). Edelgard cries in hysteria, fear of her beloved teacher running away in disgust over her ugly, mutilated body overwhelming her. But Byleth, childlike in her innocence, shared that she too is scarred in strange ways, and that she too is scared of failing those around her - that she has no ambitions save to help and protect those around her. Byleth reveals that it is Edelgard whom Byleth looks up to for always being so strong and always moving forward, and shows that without Edelgard Byleth wouldn't know how to handle the pressure everyone else puts on her. The exchange ends with Byleth reassuring Edelgard that she is beautiful and not the monster she thinks she is.

- There is no nice way of putting this: this is a classic example of how not to write someone opening up to another about something. Edelgard views herself as weak, ugly, repulsive, a monster, shameful, but it is Byleth's love and affection that gives her comfort and warmth, that gives her hope of something more. It forces Byleth to behave wildly out of character (the author can try to excuse this with "well she wouldn't normally behave like this!" all he wants, it doesn't matter when it goes against the base, canonical Byleth. Strikes against canon: 99) in order for Edelgard's scarred body to be seen as something that is repulsive, that is ugly, that is stained, so much so that the pure, childlike, innocent Byleth couldn't stand to see something so tainted. And yet it is that same pure, childlike, innocent Byleth's pure, innocent, childlike love that pushes away the pain of Edelgard's scars for just that moment. Other characters become suddenly blind and/or forgetful of Edelgard's obvious, bleeding wound so that it is Byleth who can be the one to save Edelgard with her pure, innocent, childlike presence and her pure, innocent, childlike uncertainty about her own insecurities (but only when it is convenient for Edelgard, as even Byleth didn't noticed the gaping, bleeding wound until she was alone with Edelgard where no one could interrupt their bonding moment). This scene is inorganic and forced, ham-fisting Edelgard and Byleth in the same room - the wash room, where both are either naked or nearly naked - so that Byleth is the one to find Edelgard, no one else. No one was worried enough about the sudden exit Edelgard took from the conversation she was having to follow her and make sure she was alright, and Byleth just so happened to enter the baths right after Edelgard. The scene is, to be frank, insulting.

- There have been a couple of joking references to a book titled Stones to Abigail in these notes, but in all seriousness, this scene plays unsettlingly similar to a scene in said book, where a scarred girl who is naked reveals her "ugly" and "revolting" scarred body to the love interest, who goes on to soothe and comfort the naked girl as best they can. The resemblance is uncanny

- Byleth described as childlike/innocent. Counter: 5

- Edelgard, in canon, never expresses feeling herself to be ugly, or repulsive, or a monster. Strikes against canon: 100

- Again, Edelgard's scars are only important when they are convenient - this time, in helping develop the romantic relationship between her and Byleth

- There are ways in which scars can be utilized without being problematic, but certainly not when this much focus is placed on them and yet they are only truly present when they cannot hinder Edelgard.

- Perhaps particularly insulting is this phrase from Edelgard: "Did she actually love Byleth at all, or just being saved by her?" Yes, Edelgard, you do simply want to be saved by Byleth, because that is precisely what the narrative has been drilling into the reader's heads ever since Byleth showed herself. Byleth is Edelgard's light, Byleth is Edelgard's hope, Byleth gives Edelgard back her humanity, Byleth is Edelgard's one source of joy, Byleth is Edelgard's entire life, and nothing, absolutely nothing in this fic has shown this to ever be a bad thing. This dependence on Byleth to bring Edelgard joy at the near complete expense of everyone else has been propped up as something romantic, and yet it's now, 21 chapters and over 85K+ words in, that we're supposed to believe that this was actually Edelgard being unhealthy? Even though the author himself said that this was what he enjoyed about their relationship, how much they found each other in each other? Even though we see what the author thinks would happen to the two of them should they separate - Edelgard, lonely and afraid without her beloved teach, and Byleth, the Ashen Demon who cares for nothing without her beloved student - in her visions of SS? This is a joke

- It cannot be overstated that Byleth came to the bathhouses completely independently of Edelgard. She did not come to specifically see her because she followed her out of worry for Edelgard due to her injury - she only knows that Edelgard's injured in the first place due to seeing bloody bandages that Edelgard removed in the bathhouse, before Byleth arrived.

- Author's notes: "On Bergliez, we find out very little in-game, but he 1) offers himself for execution so his men can go free in SS and 2) seems to be actually competent at his job. I thought a nuanced portrayal was more interesting, since I've been writing Aegir as the absolute worst person in the world." -> Note: this is what the author believes to be a nuanced take on someone. Someone who likes Edelgard entirely and does nearly whatever they can to help her, but they did one thing that's morally gray (leaving a child behind to save his own children from the same fate) that is portrayed as objectively bad, so now they are nuanced. While perhaps this sort of character would be truly nuanced in better hands, as it is with his actions being portrayed as something that is obviously so completely and utterly wrong and him someone who deserves complete and utter condemnation - and yet Ionius, who does far worse for far less understandable reasons, gets a comparative slap on the wrist - it causes confusion as to Edelgard's lines. Bergliez seeing her the one time and never helping her is enough for her to want to hurt him as she was hurt, but her father repeatedly coming to and "being forced" to watch her actively be tortured and doing nothing does little to invoke similar depths of resentment? Even granting the idea that "she gives more slack to her father," Ionius is objectively and far worse than Bergliez, down to doing hard things to protect their children, and yet it is only Bergliez who is shined in this unpleasant a light

- To be clear, Bergliez's decision was not a good one, but understandable. It is a gray decision to make. But notice how he is called "gray" and "nuanced" and yet Ionius is nearly completely innocent, as described by the author himself, despite their being no given explaination as to why "he was a figurehead" should be a good enough reason to wash him literally standing there and watching as his children - some of whom aren't even teens yet - get slowly tortured and killed.

- "There are many localization changes I understand (Byleth wanting to get drunk after the battle is one of them), but Treehouse's decision to remove Ionius' entire reason for power centralization (eliminating the consorts) was a big, big mistake." -> Given the history of this author's grasp on the Japanese language, this needs to be checked, as he cannot be trusted as a source as to whether this is true

******* Notes of Claude mischaracterization: Chapter 21, section 1, paragraphs 1, 21 & 23, 27 *******

#o captain my captain #is the Cap'n's name fuckin' Greg holy shit #this chapter was baaaaad #b-but hey maybe i'm just being overly critical?

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teawaffles · 3 years ago

Text

Louis and the Aquaria: Chapter 3, Part 2

The next morning.

After yesterday’s incident, Moran was keen to know what Louis would do next — and so he headed to the hall with Fred, who presently had some time to spare. Perhaps it was because he’d been working late into the night, for Fred kept yawning as he rubbed his bleary eyes.

But the moment Moran pushed open the hall door, the startling sight before them banished all of Fred’s sleepiness in a flash.

“This is……”

“What the heck is this?” Moran exclaimed.

Dumbfounded, the two men stood where they were.

One corner of the hall—— had been turned into a dense jungle.

Numerous South American trees, planted in giant pots, were now surrounding the angelfish tank. At the same time, the two men were struck by the feeling that somehow, the room’s humidity had risen since yesterday.

Hearing Moran’s shout, Louis poked his head out from behind an ivy-wrapped tree.

“You’re being much too loud in the morning, Mr Moran. It’ll stress out the fish, so please refrain from shouting; but what on earth’s the matter?”

“That’s my line: what have you done here?!”

A flash of light gleamed off Louis’s spectacles.

“I was seeking a more conducive environment for my bro—…… no, the fish, so I have recreated a South American rainforest here. They were ordered a few days earlier, and arrived last night; I’ve just finished arranging them.”

Apparently, the luxurious water plants had just been the beginning for Louis. Even so, Moran had not expected this much progress in one night.

The situation raised so many questions that he had no idea where to begin. But for now, Moran refused to back down, and raised one of the problems at hand.

“First off, you were obviously going to say ‘my brothers’, but still: don’t talk about such grand feats as ‘recreating South America’ so lightly! No, I had a feeling about this. A normal person would reflect on what happened yesterday, and restrain themselves after that — but for you, you’re the type who ends up going amok instead. And yet, I didn’t think you’d do something as drastic as this!”

Moran had launched into a heated tirade, but Louis kept his cool as he replied.

“Thank you for taking the time to point out each and every one of those things. However, I believe I’m treating all of the fish equally; and in my view, it’s unfair to say that I’m favouring some of them just because some plants have been placed at specific areas.”

“What kinda nerve is that, to not even admit it after going this far…….. I mean, you are actually a little aware of it, aren’t you?”

“Also, it’s actually quite amazing that you’ve managed to remain calm all this while, Mr Louis……”

Even after weathering that torrent of questions, Louis was unmoved — and if anything, that had inspired a sense of awe within Fred.

“Well, it was us who said you were free to do as you liked. In any case, your love towards your brothers is certainly terrifying.”

To Moran, it seemed meaningless to continue arguing with the youngest son of the Moriartys, who stubbornly refused to acknowledge his biased rearing of the fish. He gave up trying to persuade Louis, and went on to watch the fish as he normally did.

“…………”

He tried to focus on the vibrant fish before him. And yet, Moran couldn’t help but notice the trees standing at the edge of his sight.

Tormented by that conflict, he finally succumbed to temptation. With sure steps, Moran made his way toward the vegetation, and Fred followed cautiously behind him.

“……Well, if they’re already here, we may as well enjoy them to the fullest.”

Mumbling to no one in particular, Moran walked up to the row of trees. Using one arm to push away the leaves in his path, he moved through the greenery; then, his gaze landed on an aquarium placed on a nearby table. Inside, were some animals with incredibly striking colourations.

“What’re these?”

“They’re indeed very colourful,” Fred remarked.

Within the tank were several tiny frogs. They were a deep blue, and mottled with red.

The two men were full of questions about the presence of these unfamiliar creatures. Nevertheless, out of sheer curiosity, they moved their faces near the tank and peered in.

Louis, who was feeding the other fish, called out to them in a loud voice.

“Please don’t open the tank lid: they may look beautiful, but they secrete a lethal poison so deadly that some indigenous tribes of South America use it to coat the tips of their blowdarts.”

In an instant, Moran and Fred leapt away from the tank. Due to their natural athleticism, the distance they’d retreated was further than that of the average person.

As it were, they had narrowly escaped the jaws of death. But even as the sudden appearance of these poisonous frogs gave them chills, Moran stilled his pounding heart, and shot Louis a look of anger.

“Why are such dangerous things here?! Even recreating a South American environment has its limits, doesn't it?!”

“My apologies. One of my motivations was indeed to recreate the fishes’ native habitat. But more than that, I wanted to prepare for a scenario where Stapleton expresses an interest in other creatures besides fish. Hence, I began rearing these frogs just in case.”

As he said that, Louis made his way beside the tank. Opening the lid just a crack, he tossed in some tiny insects: food for the frogs.

“…………”

Seeing his practiced hand, at this point, the other two men had nothing else to say. In this extraordinary space created within the mansion they lived in on a daily basis, their ability to process information had long since hit its limit.

After confirming that the frogs had eaten their fill, Louis proceeded on an efficient path around the room to check on the rest of the tanks.

Moran gazed into the distance.

“It sure is amazing, what people can do in such a short time……”

But excessive zeal, once taken in the wrong direction, can lead to outcomes no one would’ve expected.

Even as various points had deeply impressed upon them just how amazing Louis was, at the same time, Moran and Fred also grew conscious of a certain truth in life. Once again, they stepped through the row of trees.

The two men parted the curtain of leaves, some part of them nervously wondering if those dangerous frogs had escaped, and walked up to the aquarium they had in mind.

“Oh, there they are.”

Seeing that the tank itself hadn’t changed, Moran finally breathed a sense of relief, and went on to admire the three “Moriarty brothers” swimming within.

The one at the head of the group was ‘William’. Right behind him was ‘Albert’, then ‘Louis’. Within the jungle Louis had created, the three angelfish shone in a way that lived up to their angelic names.

However, in contrast to the joyful Moran, Fred’s expression was serious. He narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Don’t you think…… its movements are a bit awkward?”

“Ah?”

Moran stared at the focus of Fred’s attention. Immediately, he perceived a subtle change in that fish.

Although it seemed perfectly fine at first glance, if one were to observe all three of them carefully, it was clear that the one at the head of the group was swimming a little differently from the other two.

“Is there something wrong?”

Louis came over, sensing something was off. But even before Fred explained the situation, he noticed the abnormality with ‘William’.

He put his face close to the tank, observing the fish for a few moments; but gradually, his expression turned grave.

“Oi, Louis: what on earth’s going on? Could it be that he’s sick?” Moran asked.

Louis placed a hand under his chin, thought for a split second, then quickly made a decision.

“——First, let’s move it to a separate tank. There’s a smaller one near the hall entrance: Mr Moran, please bring it here. Fred: please read the measurements from the devices installed on this tank and report them.”

Hearing those instructions, the two men assumed their roles at once.

Meanwhile, Louis took a notepad from his breast pocket, and checked the emergency response measures he’d studied on his own. Though he had already memorised all of them, he wanted to avoid any potential for error.

Moran returned with a small tank.

“Oi, is this one alright?”

“Yes, thank you.”

First, Louis transferred some water from the angelfishes’ tank into the one Moran brought over, such that it was deep enough for one fish. Then, he set up some equipment to confirm the water temperature and quality once more, then added a bit of salt to the water.

Watching him, Moran cocked his head.

“Why’re you adding salt?”

“Saltwater is an effective treatment for diseases in fish. Though it certainly isn’t all-powerful.” [1]

Saying that, Louis used a net to gently scoop up ‘William’ and move it to the tank they’d prepared. Although there were drawbacks to isolating sick fish, his priority was to stop the disease from spreading, as well as limit any damage that could be caused by the other fish.

As he worked, Louis listened to the measurements Fred read out, but his puzzlement only deepened.

“The water quality and temperature are both normal. As far as I can see, there isn’t any obvious debris or dirt in the tank, and the equipment doesn’t seem to be malfunctioning. In that case, perhaps some foreign substance had entered its food, or maybe it got stressed from its surroundings……”

“Maybe it got bullied by the other fish?” Moran asked.

Louis immediately dismissed that idea. “From what I’ve observed, there were no such quarrels between them. In that case, another possibility I can think of is the change in its environment.”

He cast a sideways glance at the trees surrounding them. And Fred picked up the implication behind that casual gesture.

“By ‘stress’, do you mean these trees? But it’s not like they came into contact with the water, so they probably didn’t impact the water quality, at least not directly. Also, weren’t they only added a while ago? To affect the fish so rapidly……”

“We can’t dismiss that possibility. Perhaps the changes to the view outside the tank had caused some visual stress…… Well, regardless of the reason, the blame for its ill health rests with me: the one in charge of its care.”

“…………”

After isolating the fish, the three of them remained standing where they were.

They gazed at the sick angelfish, swimming alone in its tank, with a sense of misery and frustration growing within them.

Footnotes:

[1] There is some truth to this: Practical Fishkeeping UK

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #a study in scarlet

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thinkingisadangerouspastime · 4 years ago

Note

Hi, first off I ship Zutara and I come in peace. I was pointed your way by a friend when I asked for people who ship kataang who are nevertheless willing to hear different views. I have lurked on blog a week and finally got up my nerve to ask how you or any other Kataang can deny that the last part of book 3 was completely Zutara but then stopped abruptly with no buildup? You can finesse tone on text so I'm not being sarcastic or bitchy, it is a serious question (1/5)

In The Southern Raiders, Katara realizes she has been wrong about Zuko. In Ember Island Players, she realizes Aang is not as mature as she thought he was, and in the finale, Katara does not care a whit that Aang is gone. I am serious and as someone who is no Aang stan but likes him, I’m actually annoyed by how little anyone cared about his disappearance. It went from “Aang’s gone!” to “Okay whatever, let’s find Iroh so he can kill Ozai.” (2/5)

Katara was all over Zuko (honestly, again not being a jerk) in the finale until for whatever reason, she wasn’t. She was giving him a pep talk about Iroh, she was going with him to Azula, she was healing him and saying he saved her not the other way around. I genuinely don’t get why this isn’t seen as romantic. I will grant you that Zuko would not have allowed Azula to kill anyone but I feel the point here was Zuko realizing his life was pointless if Katara was killed. (4/5)

And then literally at the end, Mai shows up after Zuko not talking about her at all for six episodes and declares herself Zuko’s girlfriend. And Katara kisses Aang after being annoyed with and by him arguably since The Southern Raiders. I get that Kataang “won” and I’ve made peace with that, but ... I can’t understand why Kataang shippers are okay with such a crap story. I swear on my gmom [sic] if they’d done this for [Zvtara], I’d be mad as hell. So I don’t understand, I really don’t. (5/5)

As always, I shall begin with a disclaimer: anon, you do not have to agree with this post. No one has to agree with this post, as it is strictly my own thoughts on the subject matter raised here! As per usual, I will not be putting this in the main tags - much less the Zvtara tag! - because I have basic fandom decency, lmao. If you (the general you, not anon specifically) do disagree with this post, that is totally fine, I simply ask that you are polite in expressing your disagreement (if you choose to do so at all! no one is expected to, lmao. i promise).

Alright. Formalities are out of the way!

I’ll admit I giggled a little bit when you say you lurked on my blog for a week, because I’ve actually talked about this subject numerous times in the past! I just found it funny you hadn’t stumbled across any posts about it yet, lol. So, as a heads up, know that I will be providing several links in this post since - again - this subject and related subjects have been analyzed a multitude of times before. I highly recommend reading them all! Mostly because I don’t intend to spend forever restating what’s been said over and over and over lmaooo. I will provide the resources, but it is up to each individual to take advantage of them.

To begin: your ask actually contains a few logical fallacies, anon! I do not mean this as shade or to belittle you - I fall victim to this issue all the time myself. Anyone who writes analyses or participates in debates does! Humans are imperfect and often like to cut corners to reach a conclusion. It is nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about because - as the existence of your ask in inbox indicates - you are willing to learn more. So kudos to you, my friend!

Alright. So what logical fallacies am I talking about here? (For the record: specific definitions of logical fallacies were taken from here.)

1. Hasty Generalization.

“A hasty generalization is a general statement without sufficient evidence to support it.” Numerous claims are made in this ask that I have absolutely no doubt you believe to be true, anon, but there really isn’t any concrete evidence to support it! I will go into more detail later, of course, but let’s quickly look at one example:

“In Ember Island Players, [Katara] realizes Aang is not as mature as she thought he was…”

For the time being, I will ask but one question: from the show itself, not fanon, how do you know this?

2. Causal Fallacy

Ah, this guy. My own worst enemy, tbh! “A causal fallacy is any logical breakdown when identifying a cause,” of which there are several types. “One causal fallacy is the false cause or non causa pro causa (‘not the-cause for a cause’) fallacy, which is when you conclude about a cause without enough evidence to do so.” In your ask, you claim:

“I will grant you that Zuko would not have allowed Azula to kill anyone but I feel the point here was Zuko realizing his life was pointless if Katara was killed.”

Again, for the time being, I will ask only one question: from the show itself, not fanon, what led you to believe this statement?

“Another kind of causal fallacy is the correlational fallacy also known as cum hoc ergo propter hoc (Lat., ‘with this therefore because of this’). This fallacy happens when you mistakenly interpret two things found together as being causally related.” In your ask, you claim:

“Katara was all over Zuko (honestly, again not being a jerk) in the finale until for whatever reason, she wasn’t. She was giving him a pep talk about Iroh, she was going with him to Azula, she was healing him and saying he saved her not the other way around. I genuinely don’t get why this isn’t seen as romantic.”

I will ask one question: from the show itself, not fanon, why would you believe these are indicative of romance? (Consider the context the show is situated in, too - e.g. the war, Katara being Azula’s only available match in skill, etc.)

The reason I bring up the issue of logical fallacies is again not at all to make you feel bad, anon!! You were simply trying to express your point to me and I greatly appreciate you taking the time to do so. See, your ask actually presents a larger fandom trend:

Misconstruing fanon as canon.

What you have offered to me, anon, are fanon conclusions. To clarify: there is absolutely nothing wrong with fanon. I adore fanon interpretations (an example I have used in the past is Kuzaang - like, I don’t care that there’s no canon basis! I do what I want lmao!), but a line has to be drawn between exploring fanon interpretations and expecting everyone to take that fanon as canon. Again, anon, this is not your fault! It is not any one person’s fault, lmao. It is an issue of fandom as a whole, and all of us fall victim to it.

With that in mind, I will break down the different components of your ask. I will also do my best to be brief - as aforementioned, I and others have analyzed this issue numerous times before, lmao. To avoid confusion, it would be best to read through each or at least most links as they are provided!

Firstly, there are two posts I have made in the past that almost directly answer your overarching question here in this ask. Please read them prior to continuing, as I will occasionally reference them:

This post explains how Zvtara was not built up from TSR/EIP-onwards, and how their supposed “canon enemies to lovers arc” is a completely fanon construction.

This post explains the issue of the “canon Zvtara” rhetoric from rabid zkers (and you, anon, are absolutely NOT one, in case you were worried).

Alrighty. With that out the way, let’s get into it!

“In The Southern Raiders, Katara realizes she has been wrong about Zuko.”

Gotta start by saying that TSR is not about Zuko. TSR is, first and foremost, about Katara. Katara does not realize she was wrong about Zuko, because here’s the truth - she wasn’t wrong about him. Zuko did horrible things to the Gaang. Katara was not wrong to hold him accountable for that. What Katara does realize is that holding such rage so close to her chest is bad for her. This rage was not solely anger against Zuko, either; it was of course about Yon Rha, too, but it was also anger towards Kya and Katara herself. Essentially, TSR is where Katara realizes she has to forgive herself. Zuko is only one part of her journey (similar to Aang’s role in the episode, if a different end of the spectrum).

This post explains how TSR was fundamentally about Katara.

Additional resources about TSR:

This post explains Aang’s comments to Katara in TSR and how Katara herself recognized their validity.

This post explains why both Aang and Zuko were important to Katara in TSR.

This post is an extensive breakdown of Aang and Katara’s relationship within TSR.

“In Ember Island Players, [Katara] realizes Aang is not as mature as she thought he was…”

You provide no context for this claim, so I’m going to work with the assumption this is about their reactions to the play itself and the infamous kiss!

There is something important we must keep in mind when discussing EIP: the play they watch is literally imperialist propaganda. It is meant to demean the entire Gaang, and indeed it does exactly that. You mention Katara and Aang specifically, so I will recap what I have explained before about their depictions in EIP: Katara, an indigenous woman, is hypersexualized and portrayed as overly emotional (and thus “irrational”). This reinforces the Fire Nation sentiment that women of the Water Tribes are less intelligent and less suited for “responsibility” than Fire Nation women. Aang, a pacifist and the sole survivor of genocide who is also canonly the male character most comfortable with femininity and spirituality, is portrayed as a flighty, airheaded woman (this is a well-known imperialist tactic meant to emasculate the target, seeing as masculinity was often equated with power in fascist regimes; thus, they effectively belittled Aang before the FN audience). This reinforces the Fire Nation sentiment that the Air Nomads were foolish, weak people who deserved to die.

In other words, of course Aang and Katara were upset about how they portrayed in the play. It is understandable that tensions would be running high and consequently that mistakes (we all know the one) would be made.

This post explains how EIP belittles each member of the Gaang (and why the play is not indicative of Zvtara).

This post talks specifically about EIP and their portrayal of Aang and Katara.

Now onto the kiss. As everyone knows and no one has ever disagreed with, Aang was wrong to kiss Katara. Point blank!

But what people do misunderstand is Katara and Aang’s feelings regarding the kiss. Given your above quote, I assume you believe Aang kissing Katara supposedly made her realize that Aang wasn’t as mature as she once thought. On the surface, this seems like a logical conclusion! But digging deeper reveals… well, there’s nothing that indicates this conclusion at all. Even jumping ahead to the finale, when Zuko has doubts over Aang’s return, Katara demonstrates her faith in Aang (although of course she’s nervous - I won’t deny the obvious, lmao) as she says, “Aang won’t lose. He’s gonna come back. He has to.”

In other words, nothing in canon suggests that Katara believes Aang is immature because of what happened in EIP. She still trusts in his return, as she did even before she knew him (and arguably is more confident in him now, given the 60~ episodes of them growing closer). Furthermore, when Aang does disappear, Katara doesn’t have an outburst about how “immature” it was for him to “run away again.” The viewers know Aang didn’t run away, of course (fans who insist he did are not worth arguing with, anon - they don’t understand the show, rip), but that is a luxury the rest of the Gaang is not afforded. And yet even though Aang has vanished off the face of the planet, Katara still believes he will save the world. If anything, that signifies the utmost confidence in his skill and maturity!

To go back to the kiss itself, this post explains the true source of Katara’s conflict in turning down Aang (hint: she says it herself in the episode! you know, the whole war going on) and why the EIP kiss did not sink Kataang’s relationship.

Additional sources about EIP:

This post explains how the EIP kiss was resolved through narrative parallels.

This post explains how the EIP kiss is so often blown out of proportion.

“… and in the finale, Katara does not care a whit that Aang is gone. I am serious and as someone who is no Aang stan but likes him, I’m actually annoyed by how little anyone cared about his disappearance. It went from ‘Aang’s gone!’ to ‘Okay whatever, let’s find Iroh so he can kill Ozai.’”

As I already touched upon, Katara didn’t need a soliloquy to emphasize her connection to Aang once he disappeared. She trusts that he will return. She says so herself. I guess I just don’t understand how you got from Point A, Katara has consistent faith in Aang, to Point B, Katara and the rest of the Gaang didn’t care about Aang’s disappearance. It’s honestly a bit more like Point A to Point Z, lmao! If you would like to expand on your logic here, I would love to hear more!!

There are a few specific aspects I want to note about your rationale, though. You argue the Gaang moves from ‘Aang disappeared’ to ‘let’s find Iroh,’ but the Gaang actually went from:

1. Aang disappeared!

2. They search the entire island for him.

3. Okay, they couldn’t find him, so they track down June and have her try to find Aang.

4. June says to them, “No, I mean he’s gone gone. He doesn’t exist.” (And she clarifies to Sokka that she doesn’t mean dead, either - she means Aang has totally blinked out of their world.)

5. Only after all of this do they decide to track down Iroh.

The Gaang cares immensely about the fact that Aang is gone, and you could actually argue they waste time by trying to track him down. They don’t give up until June essentially tells them that some Spirit World shenanigans were involved. Even if you don’t think they reached that specific conclusion, I have to ask: What else were they supposed to do? They were told Aang didn’t exist! How are they supposed to fix that?

Well, they can’t. So they do the next best thing: they find Iroh, the man who knows Ozai better than anyone and is also one of the most talented firebenders in the world. In my opinion, that’s a very logical step to take.

I’ll be blunt here, lol: in my opinion, nothing of what you listed in your ask is inherently romantic.

Okay. I am going to assume you’ve read the first two posts I linked earlier (“Zvtara did not have an E-L arc” and “the ‘canon’ Zvtara of rabid zkers has issues”), because I do not intend to rehash everything they contain, lol. Consequently, I presume you realize by now that there was no canon romantic interest between Zuko and Katara.

And as I always say, just because there wasn’t a canon romance doesn’t mean people can’t take fanon routes! Of course they can! That’s the entire point of fanon! But fanon is not canon, and I am strictly referring to canon in my discussions.

You claim Katara was all over Zuko, which in itself I don’t think is an accurate assessment, because she doesn’t really do anything with Zuko outside the three points you bring up (other than the June gag, which I addressed in one of the aforementioned linked posts). So I’ll go ahead and break down each instance you provide!

1. “[Katara] was giving [Zuko] a pep talk about Iroh”

Katara asked Zuko if he was okay. She asked him if he was genuinely sorry. She reassures him that Iroh will forgive him. That’s… all. Not to diminish the significance of this conversation, but it’s not exactly an intimate, romantically-charged discussion (unless fanon-ized). But on that note, let’s tackle the canon significance of this moment!

Katara knows firsthand the challenge of forgiving Zuko. And she knows that Zuko understands how hard it was for her to forgive him (note: Katara’s anger was totally justified, and anyone who disagrees is probably a rabid Zuko stan lmao). She also recognizes that Zuko is terrified it will take Iroh the same struggle to forgive him that Katara went through. This scene is not related to romance at all. It’s about compassion. It’s about Katara and Zuko’s friendship having progressed, slowly but surely, to the point where she’s not afraid to extend empathy to him anymore (seeing as the first time, beneath Ba Sing Se, did not go so well; you know - Aang died and all). It’s about Zuko recognizing his own fallibility (and the audience recognizing how much he’s grown). He questions how he can even face his uncle after all he’s done to the man, which is a far cry from his entitled attitude in TSR, where he demanded to know why Katara didn’t trust him when everyone else had forgiven him.

To make this moment, this moment about Zuko’s relationship with his uncle who is all but a literal father to him, this moment of vulnerability, of guilt, of remorse, of growth, to claim this powerful moment is about a nonexistent romantic relationship? In my opinion, that is incredibly reductive to what this scene is supposed to signify. And again, there is nothing wrong with people exploring such a possibility in fanon, but in canon? Nah. It doesn’t track.

2. “[Katara] was going with [Zuko] to Azula”

Don’t forget that at first, Zuko planned to take on Azula alone. He doesn’t request Katara to accompany him until Iroh tells him that he’ll need help. As such, Zuko’s immediate agreement with Iroh is reflective of his personal growth (Book 1 and 2 Zuko would have argued and insisted he didn’t need any help). It also demonstrates, however, that Katara was not obsessively on Zuko’s mind. He doesn’t choose Katara until Iroh points out that Zuko will need assistance in taking Azula down. This means that Zuko’s choice of Katara to join him is a tactical decision, not an emotional one. And by all accounts, it’s a damn good decision! Zuko witnessed firsthand beneath Ba Sing Se a) how powerful Katara was (e.g. that wave after Aang died) and b) how Katara was the only one who could take on Azula*.

Of course, besides the fact that Katara was the only match for Azula, who else was Zuko going to choose? Sokka and Suki, while talented in their own right, were no competition for Azula. Toph, while the greatest earthbender in the world, was needed to metalbend the airships. Katara was the only (and the best!) option.

Also, on their trip to face Azula, the only thing they talk about within their three lines of canon conversation are Azula and Aang. Not exactly a romantic flight, lmao.

*Zuko never saw Aang fight Azula on the drill.

3. “[Katara] was healing [Zuko] and saying he saved her not the other way around”

Actually, this is what the transcript says:

Zuko: Thank you, Katara.

Katara: I think I’m the one who should be thanking you.

You’re right about how their lines refer to them saving each other, but you posit it as a romantic moment, when the lines are actually pretty straightforward. Zuko thanks Katara as she heals him from the partially-redirected lightning strike, and Katara thanks him for trying to redirect the lightning away from her and in doing so saving her life. In terms of canon, there’s nothing romantic about this, lol! (Which I talked about extensively in the E-L post, if you need to reference it again.) The reason being is that you have to take the show itself into context when you do analysis. If there was no canon romantic buildup between Zuko and Katara, why would these lines in canon (not fanon! fanon is free rein, lmao) be interpreted through a romantic lens?

Well, they wouldn’t be interpreted as such. Plain and simple.

“I genuinely don’t get why this isn’t seen as romantic.”

Because looking through a canon lens, they aren’t romantic. That’s all. You are of course welcome to view them as such through a fanon lens!! It’s just about recognizing the line between canon and fanon.

“I will grant you that Zuko would not have allowed Azula to kill anyone but I feel the point here was Zuko realizing his life was pointless if Katara was killed.”

I asked earlier what content in the show itself led you to believe. I have wracked my own mind, and I cannot think of anything that would point to this conclusion. Zuko was in Katara’s good graces for 5 episodes. That’s 8% of the show. Not exactly a lot of time for Zuko to start believing his life would be pointless if Katara was killed, is it?

This post explains the improbability of Zuko having a crush on Katara within canon.

This post explains how Zuko’s racism towards the Air Nomads in TSR and the finale is, well, exactly that - racism (and not a sign of a crush on Katara).

And, of course, as has been said a million times, Zuko taking the lightning for Katara out of romantic interest would completely undermine his redemption arc. Since it has been said over and over and over, I will be brief: Zuko taking the lightning is significant because it is a selfless act (one of his only in the series), and it directly parallels his selfish act of choosing not to intervene when Azula killed Aang with lightning beneath Ba Sing Se. This moment demonstrates Zuko’s growth, how he has learned to accept unconditional love from Iroh and the Gaang and Mai and even Ty Lee and sure, even from Appa and Momo, too. To make this moment of pure selflessness about a nonexistent romance? To force a fanon romance in replacement of canon redemption and canon platonic significance?

Such a decision speaks wonders about a person’s priorities, in my opinion, as well as how amatonormativity impacts them.

Furthermore, Zuko’s choice cements Katara’s position as his surrogate sibling, as she is Azula’s primary foil. Zuko chooses the sister who heals over the sister who harms. I won’t go too much into it here, because it has already been talked about extensively before! Thus, I offer you this post that explains how Zuko and Katara - in canon - are positioned as surrogate siblings as well as Azula’s role in this matter. I also offer this post that lays out through screencaps how Zuko and Katara - in canon - treat each other like family.

Additional sources about the final Agni Kai:

This post in part discusses fanon misinterpretation of the final Agni Kai and why such a lens is not true to canon relationships.

This post explains why the final Agni Kai is not intended to be romantic.

This post explains how the final Agni Kai is primarily about Azula and how reducing it to be a big Zvtara moment is detrimental to both her and to Zuko and Katara themselves.

“And then literally at the end, Mai shows up after Zuko not talking about her at all for six episodes and declares herself Zuko’s girlfriend.”

This point could probably get a post of its own, lol, but fortunately I and others have already written a few! I will link them below - first, however, I question your choice of “declares.” Technically, yes, Mai does say outright that it doesn’t hurt how the new Fire Lord is her boyfriend, but your phrasing implies Zuko resisted her proclamation. When… he doesn’t. In fact, he embraces it, asking if that means she doesn’t hate him anymore (read: he asks if they’re back on good terms again). Zuko clearly doesn’t have a problem with the girl he loves wanting to be with him again - so why do some parts of fandom so adamantly insist he does? (Not you, anon - I am referring to the rabid fanoners, lol.)

Also, regarding how Zuko hasn’t talked about Mai for six episodes, we’ve gotta be realistic with this assessment in terms of canon:

1. It was the crux of the war. They were either going to live or die. There was no time for romance at this point! Sokka and Suki weren’t professing their love on the battlefield, lmao, so it’s not exactly strange that Zuko didn’t bust into a monologue about how he missed Mai. I think they were just a little bit distracted by the possible end of the world, lol, and all that jazz.

2. Zuko probably thought Mai was dead. He knows what Azula is like. He knows his sister doesn’t have time for people who get in her way (Aang can testify to this, lmao). So can you blame him for not wanting to think about how the girl he loved had died (to his knowledge) to save him?

You gotta cut the kid some slack, lol. Anyways! Additional sources about Maiko:

This post breaks down the notion of Maiko and “deserve.”

This post rationalizes through a canon lens why Mai’s arrival at the palace surprised Zuko.

This post is the mother of Maiko metas, explaining in tremendous detail why their relationships works, is relevant to canon, and was well-implemented for what its role was.

“And Katara kisses Aang after being annoyed with and by him arguably since The Southern Raiders.”

What in canon has led you to the conclusion that Katara was annoyed with Aang? What specific moments from TSR to the finale made you think Katara was annoyed with Aang and remained annoyed with Aang? Are there any, or are you thinking about fanon interpretation? (Canon vs fanon strikes again!)

In TSR, Katara explicitly thanks Aang for understanding her perspective. Nothing there is indicative of annoyance (and as in the links provided earlier, she was not angry at Aang/Zuko/etc. so much as she was at herself. well, she was a little bit angry with Zuko, lmao). In EIP, Katara is understandably angry at Aang’s decision to kiss her, but Aang completely backs off, and we see in the part 1 of the finale that there are no hard feelings or weird tension between them. Katara in fact actively expresses concern for Aang after Zuko sporadically attacked him when she demands of the firebender, “What’s wrong with you? You could have hurt Aang!” Even when Aang and Katara do butt heads later in the episode as Aang tries to think of a way to defeat Ozai without killing him, Katara doesn’t stay frustrated. Like I said - when she and Zuko are flying to Azula, she demonstrates her unwavering faith in Aang through her belief that he will return. So… where is the annoyance that you feel was present?

With all this mind, i.e. looking strictly at canon, Katara wasn’t annoyed with Aang during this time. Thus, Katara kisses Aang because she loved him. Because he backed off and gave her the space she needed to make a decision about if she wanted to be with him (hence Katara being the one to initiate the kiss). Because the issue was never about if she reciprocated his feelings (they both knew they loved each other) but rather it had to do with the war. At the end of the finale, the war is over, and there is nothing that prevents them from being together. Simple.

This post explains how Katara’s feelings for Aang develop throughout the series (and were not neglected, as rabid zkers like to claim, for some reason? again - you are not one of them, anon).

This post also covers Katara’s interest in Aang throughout the series.

“I can’t understand why Kataang shippers are okay with such a crap story.”

I mean, you definitely don’t have to ship Kataang. It may not be your cup of tea, and that’s totally okay! But as the above links demonstrate, Kataang was a fantastic story. It was well-implemented into the narrative from Day 1. The soulmateism is unparalleled!

Also, it’s worth noting that A:TLA itself was essentially pre-written. The writers knew how the story would end from the get-go, including that the show would end with Kataang. A few Zvtara gags were thrown in to add a sense of “who will Katara choose?” drama as the show aired, but Zuko and Katara were never planned to end up together. One reason so many newer fans are fine with Kataang from the start is that there’s no tension of waiting a week for a new episode when you can watch all 61 episodes straight through on Netflix, lmao. It’s even more obvious now than when A:TLA was airing that Aang and Katara will end up together, if that makes sense. (Although I talked about this in the E-L post linked earlier, so you probably understand this point already, as it was explained in detail there!)

All of this is to say that Kataang is not a “crap story” in terms of writing (again, personal taste is a different matter) because it was woven in from the beginning and had powerful narrative significance! (Kataang represented numerous complementary components of the series, such as yin and yang, push and pull, air and water, Oma and Shu, etc.)

Now. If you really and truly want to understand why Kataang shippers like Kataang, anon, consider reading some Kataang fanfics or exploring some Kataang headcanons. I read fics involving Zvtara more regularly than you might think, lol, because… well, it’s just a ship. I understand the appeal of romantic Zvtara and I can actually appreciate it when it’s well-written! I’m sure if you’re willing to put in just a little legwork (you don’t need to go the whole mile, lmao - ‘tis just fandom), you’ll realize why people like Kataang, even if it isn’t exactly your thing. You have the range, anon!! You got this!

I hope I managed to answer your questions, my friend! As always, you do not have to agree with anything I have said here. It is totally fine if you and anyone else disagrees! Everything above is simply my own perspective on the matter. Thank you for taking the time to read my response and all the different links I provided! I hope it has expanded your understanding of the subject at hand!

#i spent all day writing this lmaooo #TWO WHOLE HOURS SPENT COMPILING LINKS #amy answers #anon #amy analyzes

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justimajin · 4 years ago

Text

Til Death Do Us Part♜Pt.11

➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

➟ Genre: Angst & Fluff

↳ (6.8k), Arranged Marriage AU

➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.

➟ Warnings: 18+ rating, graphic descriptions of violence, blood and death, character death

➟ A/N: This is the final part! Thank you all for reading this series and for giving it so much love <3

gif credit.

➟ Full Series: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10[M] Part 11

“You saw someone outside the house last night?”

Seokjin’s arms are crossed, wide eyes swaying from you to Namjoon.

You nod in response, “The way they were dressed, it really blended them into their surroundings. I thought maybe the lack of sleep was playing with me, but then Namjoon saw it too…”

You peer over at your husband, who hums. “We couldn’t find them afterwards.”

Seokjin shakes his head, appearing to still be caught within bafflement. Jimin suddenly emerges, his eyes drinking in the distress in the room.

“I’m assuming there’s no good news?” He wonders, and Namjoon turns, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” He sighs, roughly running a hand through his locks, “He keeps saying it over and over again, that we’re fools to think he’s pulling the strings…”

Namjoon lets out a deep exhale, back sinking against the wall. That’s when he catches it, a sharp glint residing behind Seokjin’s glasses.

“What?” He immediately asks as the man raises his head, shaking his head.

“He wasn’t too forthcoming with me either, but….” His eyes suddenly sway and Namjoon follows the gesture, “He seems to really hate you.”

You stare at Seokjin wide-eyed.

Before you have a chance to retaliate, he beats you to it. “I’m not saying that it’s because of you per say, but more so because of your lineage….”

“Being a L/N?” Jimin ponders, and Seokjin hums, furrowing his brows.

“It seems he wasn’t quite happy with your marriage to Namjoon and from the looks of it, Taehyung wasn’t either.”

Although you can somewhat grasp what Seokjin is implying, his next question catches you off guard.

“How was Yonghwa killed, Y/N?”

Your mouth opens and closes from the straightforwardness, but you can see Seokjin’s gears turning, so you ultimately decide not to hesitate.

The history of your families is known to many. Trade and manufacturing seeking to forge a union between their two sectors. Yonghwa and Namjung were supposed to go through with the deal, but all hell broke loose on the fateful day when Yonghwa was found on the ground in a pool of his own blood with Namjung being visibly shaken. Revenge was rampant between the two families, your marriage to Namjoon ultimately becoming the peace offering to end years of hatred.

“Yonghwa was murdered.” You state in a monotone voice, as if told the story numerous times, “The day he and Namjung seeked a union, Yonghwa found out that the Kim’s were building weapons they hadn’t agreed upon.”

“Yonghwa therefore decided not to go through with the union, but was murdered by Namjung who wanted to cover up his tracks.”

After you finish explaining, your eyes drift up. Namjoon is staring at you in disbelief, orbs oscillating.

“What is it?” You immediately ask.

Seokjin relaxes his narrowed eyes and clears his throat, “Yonghwa was killed...but not at the hands of Namjung.”

Namjoon continues, “The L/N’s were involved in illegal exchange through their trades, and Namjung found out during the time he was making a deal with Yonghwa. He attempted to reason with Yonghwa, but he was held at gunpoint.”

“Through the scuffle they had, Yonghwa ended up accidentally shooting himself.” Jimin finishes, confusion drawing from your eyes.

“W-What?” Your eyes glance at the two of them frantically, “But there’s no way, Yonghwa was found in a pool of his own blood.”

“And Namjung was left shaken.” Namjoon adds, “He meant to forge a union, not kill the head.”

“That’s‒….” You shake your head, utterly lost from the conclusion. It seems too foreign to you, like someone has erased years of history from your book and shoved something else in instead.

A thought lingers in your mind and your eyes snap up, gazing at Seokjin, “Why are you asking me about Yonghwa?”

Namjoon glances up at him as well, confused from the inquires. Seokjin smiles, crossing his arms.

“I have a hunch that I need to confirm,” He eyes you, “‒and what if I said that the two of you are telling the truth?”

You and Namjoon share a glance, the latter speaking, “How so?”

“Yonghwa was killed. This is the one point in your stories that stays constant,” He begins, “But the part where your stories diverge is the reasoning behind his demise.”

“Y/N said the Kim’s were building weapons that Yonghwa didn’t agree with, and Namjoon said that Namjung found out about the L/N’s illegal activities. This led to both parties disagreeing with each other, and it wouldn't be so surprising for a fight to ensue, with both taking rightful actions to prevent themselves any harm.”

“Yonghwa was prepared to kill Namjung at the cost of saving his business while Namjung needed to get rid of Yonghwa’s knowledge.”

Seokjin pauses for a moment as you and Namjoon nod in response. His smile widens, curling at the corner of his lips.

“Now the reason why I brought this up.” He clears his throat, a playful look in his eyes, “The moral of this story is that there seems to be no victor and no loser. Both families were involved in things they shouldn’t have been and were prepared to take lethal actions to protect that information, even to the extent of making the other family look historically bad in comparison.”

Your eyes widen and Seokjin asks the question that has you stumbling for an answer.

“So why the need for a union?” He wonders, “What was the point for such a union, when both families were already so against each other to the extent of making up false tales?”

“Why look for peace when there’s no room for it to begin with?” Namjoon replies, and Seokjin nods.

“Your company’s visible shareholders seem to despise the fact that you married Y/N, and I’m sure other members of the company weren’t thrilled from hearing about her lineage.” He honestly professes, “So why would they suddenly be okay with you marrying a L/N for the sake of a union?”

“It would have to do something other than their hatred for each other….” Namjoon mumbles, squinting his eyes, “Something important enough that they would purposely need a marriage between me and Y/N.”

Seokjin hums and Jimin abruptly sputters out an answer.

“Something like a liability!”

Namjoon glances at him appalled and he hurriedly rambles before he loses the thought, “Going based off of Seokjin’s theory, Namjoon would be wedded to a L/N, someone who would have created stained connections with her own family because of the marriage and be resented by members of the Kim family.”

Jimin huffs, “Essentially she would be nothing but a liability to Namjoon’s title as the next heir…..”

Three sets of eyes stare at him in bewilderment, and Jimin sheepishly smiles from the attention. Seokjin’s pupils light up again, a spark residing within them.

“But who would benefit from all this?” He mumbles, “Who would benefit most from seeing you fail, Namjoon?”

Namjoon stares at Seokjin as silence reigns heavy in the room, no clear answer forming within his mind.

Your lids slowly flutter open.

The entire room is dark and murky, night long having fallen within a couple of hours. You had long spent hours conversing with the others about Hoseok before ultimately deciding to question him more the next day, with Namjoon coaxing you that all of you weren’t far from understanding his intent.

Yet your eyes squint through the dark, peering around the room in confusion. There’s sounds of feet shuffling against the hardwood of the floors, faint voices growing louder and louder with their shouting, some tinged with urgency while others not being able to fathom disbelief.

It doesn’t take long for you to immediately reach for Namjoon, jostling him awake. Once he’s conscious, the two of you are scrambling out of the sheets in an instant, his hand wrapping around yours as you head towards the commotion.

His backside suddenly halts, freezing in place.

You catch onto the scent right away.

It’s putrid and familiar….too familiar.

Shifting forward, horror sinks into your eyes at the source.

Hoseok’s form is slumped against the front door, eyes lulled back and red soaking the outskirts of his clothes. A trail of scarlet follows him, leading up into the torn apart room he was residing in.

***

Silence lingers uncomfortably long in the room.

It’s stifling, tension feeling heavy on your shoulders and muting your words. Slightly fumbling with your hands, your eyes flicker up for the briefest of moments.

Seokjin is against the wall, arms crossed against the blood stains that litter his torso. He stands opposite from where you and Namjoon are seated, adjacent from where Jimin leans against a table, in a similar condition as his hand balances against his cheek.

Hoseok’s corpse has been removed, but you wrenched your eyes away from the multiple gash wounds that littered his torso, the overwhelming scent of blood bringing a rise of nausea to surface from your lips.

Jimin is the first to clear his throat, peering over at you and Namjoon. “You were right, there was someone roaming outside.”

“He was silenced.” Seokjin sighs, unraveling his arms and placing his hands in his pocket. You catch the slightest hint of remorse in his features, wondering if he was too late in arriving at the incident.

Jimin shakes his head, “But why….?”

“And why make it so brutal?” Namjoon’s deep voice cuts in, making Seokjin hum with a grimace.

“This just proves that he knew something important….” You whisper.

Seokjin hums, planting an exasperated hand against his temples. Although somewhat cruel, you understand his frustration.

Hoseok was the only link in finding out who wanted Namjoon killed and sought out for your marriage, and now that he’s gone, you’ve hit a complete dead end.

There’s a soft knock against the door that results in all of your eyes hiking up. Jimin steps forward, gesturing for you to be at ease as he answers.

As the door closes, Jimin abruptly blinks, before snapping his eyes up.

“Namjoon.”

He stands up right away and Seokjin curiously leans over, “What is it?”

“It’s a picture…” He states, “A picture of the weapon assumed to be used on Hoseok….”

Seokjin suddenly leans even closer, carefully plucking it out of Jimin’s fingers. He holds the same astonished expression, eyes flickering over in Namjoon’s direction.

“I think we know who was after you, Namjoon…”

The picture is passed over to him and you sweep your irises over it too. It’s a simple picture of a knife, but it’s one that has your eyes narrowing.

“I’ve seen this knife before…” You whisper, mind scattering around for an answer. The intricate details and the curved edge seemed far too familiar, but you can’t wrap your finger on it.

Your eyes flicker, recognition suddenly dawning upon you.

“Taehyung!” You snap your fingers, recalling the time he attempted to take your life, “That’s the knife Taehyung had....”

“It’s a custom knife.” Namjoon states, his gaze steadily hardening, “Only a few were manufactured by the Kim’s.”

Your eyes threaten to fall out from their sockets. Your gaze oscillates from Namjoon to Jimin and then Seokjin, realizing they’ve already connected all the dots.

“H-How does this make sense?” You shake your head, “That would mean that someone from your family i-is trying to….”

Namjoon hums, gaze connecting with your own. There’s something unsettling brewing in his orbs, a fine line between anguish and pure rage.

“I now understand why Hoseok decided to keep quiet.” He grits, “And why we haven’t been safe here.”

***

Your footsteps are hectic, nearly sprinting through the walls. Your hands shove against your bedroom’s door, eyes falling upon your husband’s turned back right away.

The sound of a gun cocking has your eyes widening and you immediately scramble forward, hand wrapping around his shoulder.

“Namjoon.” You softly call out. His brows are still intensely furrowed and jaw tensed, his gaze focused on filling the cartilage to the handgun til it’s stuffed to the brim.

Concern drips from your stare, and you shake his shoulder again, voice firmer, “Namjoon.”

He spins around, rummaging through his bag for another gun. You huff, grasping onto him and knocking the weapon out of his hands.

You force him to look at you. “Namjoon!”

“What?!” He sharply snarls, but you are unfazed. It’s obvious to you ‒ the way his form is seething with anger, the way his hands tremble as he shoves bullets into his gun, the way there’s an inkling of pain residing within his irises, begging to release him from his torment.

You don’t say anything, simply softly shake your head in response. Namjoon lets out a scoff, a strained laugh escaping his throat.

Your arms loop around him, resting your head against his chest.

“I’m a tool, Y/N.” His shoulders crumble down, “Just a tool.”

“I know.” You whisper, noticing how his anger dissolves into anguish, his form no longer tensing underneath your hold. He raises his hands to embrace you back, breaths steadying.

With a deep sigh, he breaks away from you, an appreciative smile looping on his lips.

You return it, but a new voice draws your attention.

“You won’t accomplish anything going there like this, Namjoon.” Seokjin leans against the doorframe as Jimin draws closer behind him. You assume they must have followed after you when Namjoon suddenly left the room in a fit of anger, declaring that he was leaving to settle things once and for all with his father.

His father, who eventually decided that Namjoon wasn’t good enough to be the next heir, who wanted him to be wed to you, placing a heavy liability on his ties and waiting for him to crumble underneath the title so he could have a new heir.

But he wasn’t able to anticipate that you would turn out to be a spy, and that Namjoon would refuse to leave you, fed up with being used solely for the family business.

You sigh, keeping a gentle hand on his back.

“We need to think this through.” Seokjin reminds.

“But how?” Namjoon shakes his head, “I’ll constantly be in danger‒ all of you will be in danger.”

He glances between you and Seokjin, with the latter humming, “You’re not wrong about that, but we have to play our cards right.”

“So what‒” Namjoon jokes, “I should just wait to be killed first?”

There’s a twinkle in Seokjin’s eyes, a smile widening all the way to his cheeks.

The moon rises, casting a shadow against the isolated building’s walls.

You carefully thread through the empty hallway, pacing back and forth. A gun remains strapped to your waist, hidden underneath your clothing as your alert eyes sweep through the vicinity.

It’s a small building, one that is barely guarded and nearly hidden compared to the others. It carries two floors, one of which contains the norm of offices, only a mere handful of workers that rigorously work throughout the day, but the numbers dwell during the peak of the night, barely a hushed murmur coming across from the doors or walls.

Namjoon has informed his father that you and him will be temporarily staying in the building for safety reasons after Hoseok’s incident, and that tonight is the night that you’ll be staying in the reclusive area.

Prior to figuring out pieces of the puzzle, Seokjin had come up with the plan of making you and Namjoon come off as vulnerable, essentially luring his father into the building. Upon Namjoon’s slight persistence, he had suggested that the former confront him about the entire matter.

You had thought it was risky, too risky in fact ‒ but when Seokjin and Namjoon had abruptly shared a glance through your discussion, you knew there was more to the story than they were letting on.

Trusting them with the matter, you agreed with the notion and were assigned to guard the area under the pretense of Jimin’s suspicions. You couldn’t figure out who the woman was that Hoseok interacted with, so alongside with ensuring no one gets in, you have the task of keeping an eye out for any unwelcomed surprises.

It’s dead silent and pitch dark, the majority of the light sources cut off. Your footsteps make no sound against the soft wood, long having trained yourself to go unheard in case you were caught as a spy.

Your eyes continue to sweep around the area, looking around for movement.

You suddenly freeze.

Creak.

Head snapping up, you carefully press your ear against one of the doors in the hallway, listening in again.

Creak.

Your eyes widen.

Feet quietly gliding against the ground, you carefully peer into the room through the glass opening, noticing an open window and someone fumbling around with the walls. They seem to stumble as they do, almost seeming lost until you realize that the lack of light source makes it incredibly hard to see.

Biting your lower lip, you shuffle closer to the door, carefully waiting.

Light pours through the room.

Your pupils enlarge, mouth falling agape. A smile curve on her lips as she reaches for the door, but you’re close enough to reach out for her by the time it yanks open.

Your hand meets her shoulder.

She jolts, a gasp escaping her lips as she swivels, the light illuminating her fear-stricken features.

You innocently quirk your head to the side, brows knitting together.

“Geongmin?”

“Y-Y/N!” She stammers, swallowing hard as if she had seen a ghost.

“What are you doing here?”

Although naively surprised, there’s a cutting edge to your tone, taking advantage of her terror.

“I‒uh, my father!” She hastily says, as if nearly forgotten the answer, “H-He needed me to bring his forgotten briefcase back home.”

For the briefest of moments, you narrow your eyes.

You hum understandably, “I see….”

Granting her a small smile that she hesitantly returns, you take a clueless step back, whirling around.

You glance around, “I can offer you some help in finding it, if it’s somewhere nearby then‒”

The sound of a trigger cocking halts your steps.

Although your voice is laced with tender surprise, your expression says otherwise. “Geongmin?”

“W-Where is he?” She sputters. You casually swivel around to face her, barely flinching at the gun that is inches away from your eyes.

“Who is he?” You press forward.

“My brother!” She nearly yells, your blank expression drawing more unease from her, “Where is he?!”

A long exhale leaves your lips, “About that….”

It happens within a flash. Your fist slams into her arm, a cry slipping from her lips and the gun dropping from her hands. You swoop it up in an instant, pinning her against the wall as she’s distracted from the pain.

You tightly hold her hands within one of your hands, the other pointing the gun at the back of her head.

Your fingers curve around the trigger, “What has he promised you?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

You angle the gun so that it presses lightly against her scalp, her entire form jolting from the action.

Your voice is firm as you ask again, “What has your father promised you, Geongmin?”

Her breaths are ragged, “H-Heir! The title of h-heir!”

Tilting your head to the side, you listen to her intently, “M-My father said Namjoon was weak! That he couldn’t handle being the next heir, especially after being married to someone like you!”

Your shoulders slump down, a deep sigh leaving you. Although her declaration is vile, her words sound confusing, as if fear was taking over her mind completely.

There’s suddenly a flicker in your eyes, recognition filling you.

It’s a mere gamble, but you loosen your grip on her, taking a step back. She watches you in astonishment and you drop the gun to the ground, kicking it to the side and away from you.

The fear doesn’t leave her form in the slightest.

“Do you desire being the heir?” Your voice has become soft.

“W-What?” Your question seems to confuse her even more, her mind spinning, “What kind of question is that?!”

You pursue your lips, noticing how for someone that should desire to kill you, she doesn’t rush towards the fallen gun.

“Do you want to inherit the business?”

It’s almost like she wants to break into a fit, tell you that you’re wrong and that you’re merely some spy that’s in the way.

But the words don’t manage to leave her.

“What is it that you want to do, Geongmin?” You gently ponder.

“Why are you asking me all these questions?!” She repeats, sounding frustrated beyond belief. Streaks of tears are streaming down her eyes, her hands trembling.

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

“Because I know obligation when I see it.”

The confusion doesn’t leave her as you step over to pick up the gun again, handing it to her.

“Here.” You merely say, looking at her puzzled gaze she sends at the weapon, “Finish the mission you were sent on.”

You stand back, right in her aim of fire. Although your expression is confident, you hope she doesn’t notice the faint tremble lodged within your hands, inches away from the gun submerged within your clothing.

Her eyes are completely blown out, still swimming with confusion. It’s not long before she points it right at you, rage consuming her features in an instant.

You stare right back at her.

The gun never fires.

It slips from her hands, crashing onto the ground as more tears pool from her eyes.

“I-I c-can’t….” She weakly mumbles, shaking her head. A low sigh of relief leaves you before you bend down, picking up the fallen gun.

Your eyes flicker, “You regret killing him….don’t you?”

She nods weakly, and a smile curls on your lips.

“I’m glad you made this choice on your own, Geongmin.”

You extend your hand towards her, granting her the chance to choose again. She stares at it for a moment, a million thoughts racing through her head.

She reaches out, clasping onto it.

Heavy footsteps pound into the room.

The door is securely locked, before he treads closer, eyes narrowing.

Namjoon sits in a large chair, his eyes focused onto the table before him. At the sound of footsteps he snaps up, a smirk curving on his lips.

“Father.” He remarks, “I’m surprised to see you here.”

His father doesn’t return his smile, simply humming in response.

“Hoseok was killed recently. You need to be more careful from now on.” He snides, standing across from him, “Especially with that pesky spy living in your quarters.”

“That is my wife you are speaking about.” Namjoon sharply interjects, voice no longer holding warmth. His father sends him a seething glare, reminding him of the time he declared he wasn’t going to get rid of you.

“How long do you expect to keep her around? She’s a L/N, for all you know she could have dug around all of our secrets and exploited the information.” He hisses, planting his hands against Namjoon’s table, “She’ll be nothing but a burden to you in the future, you’ll be mocked by her lineage and she’ll destroy your business.”

Namjoon furrows his brows, an amused smile wanting to etch onto his lips. He’s aching to spew his knowledge about how his sister was likely pressured into taking over his space as heir, her mind filled with twisted information about the two of you by the person standing directly in front of him.

But he keeps it together, intrigue swirling in his orbs instead, “Who would you think was attempting to take my life then? Y/N?”

“Of course it’s her!” His father roars, “She’s been feeding her family information about us, and now she wants to take over the business by having you killed!”

“Really?”

His father stares at him like the simple question in itself was ridiculous. “You should have listened to me before and gotten rid of her.”

“But my answer wouldn’t change.” He smiles, pressing his buttons further, “She was my wife then, and she is now. What will you do if I wish to stay married to her?”

His smile doesn’t waver. It seems to do the trick, his father’s face colouring into a shade of red at his son’s stubbornness and only serving to heighten his fear. The notion should fuel his need to get rid of Namjoon, to realize that the son sitting before him isn’t made out to be the tool that he’s always wanted.

Namjoon’s smile barely moves, even when a gun is pointed in his direction.

“Then this will be farewell.”

Two guns aim for him on either side.

In an instant, his father’s eyes widen. Namjoon continues to smile, watching Seokjin and Jimin step closer.

Rising from his seat, he clears his throat.

“I’m not a pawn, father.” He states, “I have my own wishes, and they won’t always line up with my role as heir.”

He shakes his head, “The hatred between us and the L/N’s is just two families blaming each other to cover up their own tracks, and should have ended ages ago, even before I married Y/N.”

He walks over to where his father glares at him, “Now it’s time you make a decision too.”

Namjoon raises his arm as Jimin hands him a computer and Seokjin brings a chair, planting his father down onto it. Opening the screen right in front of the man, his eyes are met with a list of endless codes, but what’s most prominent are the ones that would surely infiltrate into an extensive database.

His father’s eyes hold terror in them, “This is….”

“The company.” Namjoon finishes, pointing to the screen, “These codes are functional on many bases and can hack into anything, even something as highly secured as the company’s database.”

“You’re going to destroy everything.”

Namjoon’s eyes twinkle, “I’m going to destroy what’s left of it.”

“You’re insane.” His father snarls, “You’re going to ruin the Kim empire and throw away this goldmine for what?!”

“My freedom.” Namjoon simply replies, his dark eyes pushing the computer closer to him.

His father’s face is an angry shade of scarlet, but as metal presses further into his skull, his fingers press against the keys and allow the authorization. At the sight of the last code unlocking, Namjoon’s shoulders visibly relax, an exhale of relief leaving him.

Seokjin quickly takes it away, packing away the computer into a bag before peering at Namjoon.

They share the same thought, “We need to find Y/N.”

Namjoon hums, preparing to leave the area as fast as possible.

However, he doesn’t notice how his father’s face twitches at the mere mention of you, eyes boring daggers into his son’s skull.

Namjoon turns and it happens within a flash.

Jimin is on the ground, scarlet hands clutching onto his leg as a gun is pointed in Namjoon’s direction. Seokjin’s eyes widen in an instant, but he’s too late when multiple bullets are fired, all lodging into Namjoon’s chest.

There’s no way to describe the terror that strikes you.

Tears unconsciously roll down your features, a hard knot constricting around your throat. You can only watch in horror as a staggering Jimin and Seokjin huff, dragging Namjoon’s limp form onto a bed.

Streams of red are dripping down his black suit, three pieces of metal embedded within his chest. Your trembling hands come closer, noticing that he was luckily still breathing.

“His lungs haven’t been damaged.” Jimin doesn’t hesitate to speak as you peer up at him, “We’re going to need to take the bullets out.”

Seokjin quickly filters around the room, searching for supplies as Jimin leans against the bed. You notice the trail of blood beneath his legs, eyes widening.

“Jimin, you’re‒”

He simply shakes his head, gesturing towards Namjoon first. You hesitantly nod, taking a couple of steps back as Seokjin returns.

A shaky exhale leaves your lips when Seokjin opens up Namjoon’s shirt, your quivering hands coming up to cover your mouth as you spin away from the sight.

“Y/N…” Jimin’s gentle voice beckons, but you can’t seem to look behind you. “Y/N, why don’t you wait outside?”

Although concern is flooding through every fiber of your form, you solemnly nod without hesitation.

Exiting the room at once, you attempt to calm yourself down, eyes flickering up to see Geongmin staring at you with a troubled gaze.

She sits with you throughout the silence, your mind completely numbing from the recent events.

***

Over the course of the next few days, you are dangling between concern and worry.

You’ve been residing within the Kim household in the duration and haven’t spoken to yet even seen Namjoon during that time. Although relieved that his wounds weren’t fatal, you were told that he was still unconscious and that healing from them would take considerable time.

In the meanwhile, Seokjin and Jimin had informed you that the person responsible for his state was his father. After getting rid of the remains from the company, something Namjoon had always planned to do, his father had shot Jimin and intended to kill Namjoon.

In response, Seokjin was forced to take immediate action.

You took in the news with a bitter taste in your mouth, but were glad to see Jimin slowly recover from the incident.

Upon returning and being in the household that you and Namjoon had eventually abandoned, you were confronted with the presence of his mother. At first, you were unsure of what to say, not comprehending if she knew about the prior incidents, or if like Namjoon’s father, she held a deep scorn for the two of you.

However to your surprise, she hadn’t seemed taken aback, instead appearing fatigued, dark circles beginning to round her eyes and creases maring her forehead. It made you think back to the first time you had met the women, her elegance and straightforwardness towards you always catching you off guard.

She had asked you about how Namjoon was doing and you had given a simple direct response, but there was a sad smile on her lips, one that had made your chest tighten.

“I don’t hate you, Y/N. If that’s what you’re thinking.” At your perplexment, she continued, “I think it was for the best to let go of the company...at least now we can move on from holding up this Empire with our lives.”

She faintly chuckled as you remained next to her, silently listening.

A sigh leaves her, “I’m in pain not because of my husband’s death, but because I let it get to this point. To the point where I would have lost my entire family for a mere business.”

She softly shook her head, “I’m tired, Y/N. I’m very tired of all this.”

Her words had echoed in your mind. She hadn’t spoken to you after that, but Geongmin had soon informed you that she had never seen her mother express so much remorse before.

With the entire Kim Empire now gone, they were simply just a broken family left behind.

The breeze blows against your hair, the flowers underneath your toes brushing against your skin.

Night has fallen and for a considerable amount of tossing and turning, sleep hasn't welcomed you throughout the evening. You ultimately decided it would be best to get some fresh air, desperately needing to relieve some of the restlessness you were facing.

The pale moonlight shines down on the bed of flowers, the wind whisking past you more crisp during the night. A warm smile tugs on the corner of your lips as you kneel down, gently touching the array of white, lilac purple and petal pink flowers beneath your feet.

Running your fingers through the stems your hand halts, circling around a certain white flower. You pursue your lips, reaching out and cautiously wrapping your fingers around the base, squeezing it tightly for a moment.

“I don’t think my mother will be fond of the idea that you stole one of her flowers.”

You nearly jolt, breath hitching at the sudden voice behind you. That’s when your eyes enlarge, grip loosening immediately.

Swiveling around, the astonishment doesn’t leave your form as you rise up onto your feet.

Namjoon stands before you, leaning against a wall with a hand pressed against his chest. He sheepishly smiles when your eyes connect, briefly glancing at the ground for a moment before looking up.

“You know, these flowers have a history of blooming in the seasons of‒oof!”

He doesn’t get a chance to enlighten you about his knowledge of the plants, your form crashing right against his as you wrap your arms around him. Namjoon lightly chuckles, pushing your strands back and slowly circling his arm around you. Your grip on him only tightens, a fact that he’s quick to remind you of.

“Y/N.” He strains.

You suddenly realize your husband had recently suffered having multiple bullets penetrate through his chest cavity. Immediately stepping back, a string of apologies tumble from your lips.

“I-I’m so sorry!” He grimaces while holding onto the wounds, but still continues to smile at you. Your eyes are drawn to the thick strips of cloth wrapped around the area, tucked underneath the button-down shirt he had clumsily through on around his shoulders.

Your eyes suddenly narrow, “If I didn’t know any better, it would seem that you’re still healing‒…”

Namjoon sheepishly smiles and your eyes widen. Before you can say anything, Namjoon steps forward and places a finger against his lips.

“You need to go back.” You hurriedly coax, voice dropping down into a whisper. Namjoon continues to smile, not moving the slightest.

You press your hands against him, slowly pushing him, “Namjoon, you need rest and‒”

“I know.” He whispers, grasping onto your hands right away. “I came here to see you.”

“You were worried...weren’t you?” You flush underneath his gaze, averting your eyes. His smile widens for a brief second, before it drops down and he leans closer to you.

“Y/N.”

You look up, eyes connecting with his. You’re taken aback with the stern appearance they take on, narrowing with intent.

When he speaks, they’re of mere facts, “I’m conscious again, and I’m able to walk…..”

You hum, not quite understanding what he was intending to say to you. “The company...I’m sure Seokjin and Jimin told you what I did.”

“You destroyed it.” You state and he nods, “It’s gone now and the Kim’s don’t have any means of continuing on with their busine‒”

Life flickers into your eyes and at the sight of recognition in your eyes, Namjoon solemnly smiles.

“You want to leave….” You whisper and he hums.

“It’s been on my mind ever since, I wanted to ask you in a better manner but given the circumstance…” He glances down at his injury.

“The moment I woke up, I needed to talk to you about it.”

“I see….” You mutter, staring down at the ground. Namjoon continues to gaze at you, concern in his eyes.

At your silence, he ponders, “What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know, truthfully.” You whisper, “It sounds….wonderful, incredible actually‒ but….” You stare at him, “Can we do that...? Have a fresh new start?”

For some reason, you almost want to laugh, “Are people like us even allowed to have something like that?”

“Maybe not.” Namjoon truthfully says, and you peer up, taken aback from the grim in his voice, “But I don’t see any harm in trying.”

You silently stare at him.

You’re not a spy anymore ‒ and Namjoon is no longer the heir.

You’re finally free, no longer someone else's tools to use. You can be whoever and decide to do whatever you want, no family history dictating it for you anymore.

The carefree thought brings a smile to your lips, and when you look up to see Namjoon softly smiling, you wonder if he’s pieced it together too.

Without hesitation, you take Namjoon’s hand.

Epilogue

The sun brightly shines in between the clouds, spreading across the expansive field.

It reaches your skin as you bend down, a small basket in your hand as you rummage around for the potatoes you recall planting somewhere.

There’s a faint rustle from behind you and you blink for a moment, turning around with narrowed eyes. You hear it again, but this time you can see two small legs running towards you.

A tender smile spread across your features.

The rustling abruptly cuts off, the sound of loud thud replacing it and low cries begin to echo out instead.

You rush forward, the basket in your hands long abandoned.

“Seokmin!”

The young boy continues to cry, large tears leaving his wide eyes until you bend down, scooping him up into your arms. His cries subside a little by the action and you muse at his clumsiness, acknowledging that it was a particular trait he surely hadn’t gotten from you.

Namjoon emerges seconds later, planting his hands against his knees as deeply heaves.

“I’m sorry, he was excited to see you and‒” He pants, drawing closer to see Seokmin tucked away in your embrace with dried streaks down his cheeks. “Is he alright?”

You nod, attempting to brush away the hair from the boy’s eyes. Namjoon reaches out and you hand him over, bending down to retrieve your basket.

You look up to see Namjoon playfully poking one of his cheeks, your son squirming around his arms as small giggles leaves him.

The display has a smile curving on your lips.

There was a time when you dreamed about being happy, to live a life on your terms without being at someone’s beck and call, every decision being fueled by your own conscious thought rather than programmed and ingrained obligation.

However, that’s all it ever was ‒ a dream, a mere fantasy tucked away in the corners of your mind that you had long forgotten about. Yet somehow in some way, you and Namjoon managed to fulfill it.

It didn’t come to you all at once, a normal life being far from the reality you were uncomfortably close to. That type of life was something that never quite suited the two of you and as a result, you had your fair share of struggles.

You can still remember the nights you had spent with vicious nightmares, old memories plaguing you and not letting you forget that you still had marks littering your body, your own two hands long having been tainted. It would make you question if you even deserved any of this, deserved to actually be content with what you have.

You would like to say that the adjusting process was easier for Namjoon, but there were a handful of times where he would wake up in a cold sweat, his whole form quivering next to you. It was those days you truly learned about Namjoon’s past for the first time, of the things he did or more so, was forced to do.

You started to wholeheartedly believe it, that this ‘life’ you wanted to build together could never be possible and that a part of you will always unconsciously remember times you wanted to forget.

That was until your son was born.

At first, it was a whirlwind. You hadn’t expected to get pregnant so soon and you weren’t sure of how Namjoon would react to the sudden news. Fortunately he was ecstatic once you told him and it granted you some sense of reassurance, but you could clearly see it within his warm eyes and you know he could see it reflected in yours.

Was it even possible for people like the two of you to bring another life into the world?

You had attempted to push that thought away as far as you could during the process and luckily when Seokmin was born, something had changed within you.

“Y/N?”

You blink, noticing Namjoon was staring at you with concern. Seokmin is looking over as well, appearing much better compared to when you found him.

You shake your head with a soft smile. Leaning down, you redirect your gaze towards your son.

It still astonishes you that aside from the eyes and the hair, he appears to be an exact replica of his father, “Are you feeling okay?”

Your son nods, a spark lighting in his eyes.

“Mom!” He excitedly says, “Dad said‒ Dad said you were a spy!”

You stare at Namjoon wide-eyed, who looks at his son with the same expression.

A low chuckle leaves you, “Um, he did…?”

Namjoon puts Seokmin on the ground and gestures for him to continue playing, turning around to you.

“Namjoon, we said we would wait.” You whisper.

“I know‒” He squeezes his eyes shut, “It was just a slip of the tongue.”

You stare at him for a moment, before letting out a sigh, “It’s alright...he’ll have to find out someday.”

“Are you referring to the time we’ll give him the chance to choose his own last name?”

Namjoon gazes at you amused and you share a smile with him.

“You know, Seokjin and Jimin have been wanting to see him.” He reminds you, “They still can’t believe we named our son after them.”

“Seokmin is a nice name.” Namjoon raises a brow like he doesn’t believe you and you laugh at his expression, “We should visit sometime soon, especially because….”

You lean closer to him and Namjoon can only stare in confusion when you whisper in his ear. Immediately, he jolts back from you, staring at you in astonishment.

“R-Really? Are you being serious?” You nod with a smile and Namjoon is brimming with ecstasy, “Y/N, that’s amazing!”

You point a finger towards him, “But I want to name this one.”

Namjoon chuckles, pulling you into his embrace, “Of course.”

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 4 years ago

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Only Time Makes It Human 3

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: hi and sorry for the long wait, I had to squish my brain real hard to get this chapter out, but I hope you like it, I decided a chapter about growth wasn't enough and y'all gave me an idea for angst so I just splashed it there and we'll delve into it more on the next chapter. 10/10 the idea works well enough for me to bring Levi and reader together even more. So don't call me out on being random. This is raw, un fucking edited, I'll edit later 💗

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: modern au, college au

Warnings: mentions of blood

Special kudos if you figure out why I used this gif ;)

The problem with your feet being numb in the morning when you woke up wasn't supposed to phase you as much as it currently did, but the weathering cold that had barged its way to your room silently begged to have you feel something other than the everlasting whirlpool of regret.

Which was -unsurpisingly- something you had been spiraling into a lot lately.

Your ringtone -or rather the caller that had caused it to go off- nontheless remained mercilessly unforgiving to your current condition. The brute vibrations that accompanied your once favorite song ripped through the air and bounced on every wall inside your room before it wooshed inside your eardrums.

You fucking finally had to change that ringtone, you thought.

Your feet, moist and heavy as they buzzed with the aftermath of the coma-like sleep you had just gone through, struggled to wiggle from underneath the comfort of your blankets. Your hands instinctively rubbed the underside of your nose as you sniffled all the cold of the room around you. Throwing the blanket off of you, you groaned at the non stop ringing of your phone.

The few steps to your desk felt like an eternity of having to walk with a badgy weight on your feet, but the faint feeling in your body didnt come to an halt even after you picked the device in your hands. Your eyes couldn’t really adjust well to make out the ID of the caller, of course, sleep hadn't rubbed off your eye lids yet, but still you slid the emerald button to acceptance with no resistance.

“Hey” you sleepingly moaned.

“Hellooo! (Y/n)!” Hange called enthusiastically for the other line, her joyous voice piercing your eardrums “Where are you booo?”

“I just woke up why?” you yanwed.

Pacing your eyes around your room you noticed the dull daylight creeping in through your blinds, signaling the gloom of another potentially snowy day for Trost. You blinked as you took notice of the few articles of soon to reside in the laundry bin clothing as well as the dress that hung from your closet door.

And then, it all snapped.

“Oh. shit!”

Anxiety rushed through you like a bullet to the gut, gushing numbness and waves of cold sweat from the point of impact. Forcefully, you ripped your phone off your ear and double tapped at screen to make it light up. The date read December 25, and below it, laid numerous notifications of your alarm and even a pop up reminder from last night to not forget the food you had to take with you.

Thinking back to that, your head started spinning like crazy, the familiar, yet bizarre feeling of your stomach dropping overtaking you. You hadn't cooked, rather, you had spent all night drinking and sulking on your own, cursing yourself for all your choices up to date.

"Yes, oh shit!” Hnge laughed “Oh! You forgot?”

"Hangeeee stop screaming oh my god no I didn't forget, I'm on my way okay?"

A little yelp came out of your mouth as the cable of your charger prevented you from taking another step closer to your bedroom door; letting out a curse under your breath though you quickly unplugged your phone, and rushed over the mess of your room and out to your living room.

"But you said you just woke up."

"Ahhh," you scratched your head, feeling your loose t-shirt sliding down your shoulder "no!" You said, then in a sterner voice you repeated "No! I uhm, I was just-"

Your poor excuse to communicate after having just woken up didn't startled Hange. If anything, she seemed to find it amusing because she burst into joyous, bubbling laughter at the sound of your despair. And you couldn't blame her for it; were you under any other circumstance you would be laughing with yourself as well.

"It's fine. Erwin and I are making a cake for shorty so if you want to cook here you have plenty of time yet. I'm going to say it though, we could really use your pastry skill."

You let out a sigh as you took your phone off your ear and pressed on the speaker icon. Your hands worked fast to grip onto the hem of your shirt and then, even faster, they managed to pull it off of you in shift movements.

"I'm just going to have a shower, dress up and I'll be on my way. It shouldn't take more than 30 minutes."

Hange exhaled in utter relief through the phone and you could practically feel her sheepish smile as Erwin shouted a big fat 'thank you' from the depths of his kitchen. Bringing out a hand to grap your shower cap -the only shower product you loathed using- you ripped the cap off its place on your cabinet and messily shoved all of your hair in it in rushed movements.

"Got any questions before I hit the shower Hange?"

"Please ask her" Erwin was heard and you cocked your head to the side at the sound.

"No Erwiin, we got it under control okay?"

"No we don't."

Shaking your head to prevent yourself from zoning out, you clicked your tongue before opening your mouth to address your two friends. Asking as to what they were referring to was easy, although it was obvious that Hange felt confident in succeeding in the task Erwin was referring to. Knowing Hange though, you thought you could guess perhaps what exactly was going on.

"Please don't mix food coloring with spinach juice to make the cake green like two years ago."

Erwin's laughter was pretty much evident through the other line as Hange went on blubbering about how she wasn't going to do it again giving extreme emphasis as to why she couldn't understand the reason it tasted bad in the first place but would go with what you said nevertheless. At that point Erwin was laughing hysterically, telling you how Hange was once again, indeed, thinking about it and the sound of his laughter grew even louder than Hange's words.

"Do you have food coloring?"

"Yes Hange I have food coloring."

"Plea-pleaee bring some. Dammit Erwin what's gotten into you- gotta go (y/n) see you in a while."

The beeping sound from the other line left you little to no time to properly reply to your friends with a much wanted greeting, though, you didn't think much of it. You were going to spend the whole day with them, so getting upset over not getting the chance to say goodbye over the phone wasn't something that should have caused guilt to spurt in you.

But surely, this wasn't the only cause of your overly bubbling guilt. The actual cause of the knot in your gut laid to the fact that within the time span of two weeks you had managed to to drag Levi and yourself into a rather steep rabbit hole. There was going to be a serious impact of your relationship with your friends had the two of you made it known to them; everyone would scold you -and they'd be right at that- and maybe this time they'd pick sides as to what wrong or not. And you didn't want that.

Although you secretly wished everyone went with Levi. Or at least you had come to the conclusion that that was what you deserved.

You had been feeling bothered and repulsed by what had caused you to make out with him that night, given the fact that you had been the one that initiated the kiss. And just as much, you had been feeling furious over Levi allowing this to ever happen. But looking back at it now, you couldn't say you regretted getting close to him even in such way. And that was probably the most infuriating thing of all.

Nevertheless, there was also the fact that you would be seeing Levi today and frankly you didn't know what to do with that. Should you act like everything was fine? Should you simply ignore him? Was Petra going to be with him?

Speaking of Petra it would be best if you straight up let her know of what had happened. Acting shady with another woman's man behind her back was outrageous for anyone to do and you hated being in that position like the next person.

Your stomach twisted dangerously at your spiraling thoughts, but you chose to ignore the tight knot, attributing the loud growl you had heard to one caused by your excessive hunger.

Perhaps, your shower was going to help you sort out your thoughts and intentions.

With a twist of your wrist the water started sprinting out of the tap in your shower. Your eyes were fixated on your phone, your thumb roaming through Spotify in hopes to find the perfect song to company your bath with. You simply said good for a Christmas playlist that Spotify suggested, tapping on that, a list of numerous jolly songs popped up in your screen and you simply pressed the big shuffle button before putting your head on your cabinet.

The walk to Erwin's house was very much and as previously expected, quiet. The sidewalks on your way were all covered in sugary white snow, decorating each different apartment complex in the non urban side of Trost along with the standard holiday decorations.

Taking a deep sigh you brought the back of your finger to the metallic button of Erwin's doorbell. Blinking rationally, you looked around at the marble front door frame of his apartment complex, your blood subtly rushing to your feet. You dragged the tip of your combat boot over the snow, curling your toes on the fuzzy material that covered the inside of the shoe.

You were beginning to become impatient as you waited on the doorframe, Erwin was taking way too long to open the door and you were practically freezing out there; the dress you wore did almost nothing to keep you warm. Despite you taking precautions by wearing a cardigan and the leather coat that you had snatched from your brother, the cold still pierced through your sheer black pantyhose, as if your efforts to stay warm were ridiculous.

The sound of footsteps was what startled you next but still your head didn't turn to the source of the buzzing noise. Your nose simply nuzzled to the scarf you had wrapped around yourself as you rubbed your face onto its warm fleece material.

"Uh, hi."

This time you could help but turn around to check who had thrown a greeting at you.

A familiar puff of ginger hair greeted you as you snuck your nose out of the edge of your scarf, two big and round hazel eyes stared right at you as you blinked rapidly back at them.

Great. Just great.

"Hey."

Petra wiggled her nostrils once to the left and then to the right, seemingly scratching the awkwardness in the atmosphere away. She blinked her eyes a few times into yours, her lips pursing together slightly as if she was coming up with a good comeback to your greeting, yet it never came.

"uhm, what's up?"

Your fingers slightly clutched the edges of your coat, crossing over your chest as you felt your jaw start clattering. Your pupils gathered at the corners of your eyes, catching small glimpses of Petra as you eyed her up and down.

She too had opted for a cardigan and a dress. A very safe choice if you were in a place to express your opinion but hers, despite being adorned with numerous tiny and dainty coral and red flowers, looked so thin and tule like and it barely covered her thighs, so much that you felt a pinch of concern run through you that you were slow to decide on whether you wanted to brush off or not.

"I'm.. good." She managed to let out, but you noticed how her lip trembled.

She was definitely shivering, if that wasn't concerning enough you didn't know what was, and she looked so frail and out of place that she could definitely beat you at it. Plus, the lack of a warm jacket struck somewhat of a nerve at you. Even feeling so much guilt over being in her presence you couldn't help but feel your motherly friend instincts wash over you; why wasn't she wearing something warmer? And why were you seconds away from taking off your jacket to offer it to her when you knew she wouldn't even accept it.

"Damn, Erwin's sure taking long, do you want my jacket?"

"Uh-"

Once again and mostly out of instinct, your finger tapped over the metallic button, covered by the edge of your sleeve. Suddenly, the familiar buzz of the intercom growled in your eardrum and you shook your head to its direction automatically.

"I'm so sorry!" Erwin said. "Come in!"

"Hey Erwin!" Petra spoke before you had a chance to say your wanted reply.

Even if you couldn't see him, you knew how shocked of an expression he was wearing.

Taking the few steps into the apartment complex's yard, you rushed to the next door and waited for the known buzz which signaled that Erwin had finally let you inside. With awkwardness spread over your face though, you pushed your lips into a thing line, holding the door back as you signaled to Petra that she should be the first to come inside.

"Thank you." She muttered.

"No prob."

You watched as Petra hesitated to push the elevator button; with a set of trembling fingers her palm rested only a few inches before the metallic button that was lit in a red arrow. With another smile you came closer to her and went to check in which floor the elevator was currently at. Whether she flinched intentionally or not, you didn't know.

"Wanna share a lift? It'll be a while till it comes down again." You offered.

"Uhm, yeah okay."

Once she responded, Petra tapped onto the elevator button with her thumb.

Petra looked at you and clung onto the edged of her cardigan once again. You took notice of how she looked a little more casual and unkept, despite being dressed on point; the lack of a jacket and her tousled naturally wavy bob betrayed an unwillingness to be present to today's event and it's was painfully obvious.

"I'd like to" Petra hesitated, "I'd like to talk to you about something."

"Oh sure, what is it about?"

"It's about Levi."

Dead silence fell as Petra didn't dare turn her gaze to your direction. The little screen over the elevator button still showed that your lift was taking long to come down as if it mocked you, but you couldn't find it in you to tap into the button once again.

"Would you like to grab some coffee with me tomorrow?"

Tomorrow.

To say that you were panicked would be an exaggeration and probably a degradation to Petra's feelings. Her breathing was heavier than your own, frankly because for her it must have been even more uncomfortable than it was for you. You couldn't blame her for that.

Nonetheless you couldn't help but be genuinely curious as to what she had wanted to tell you? It was evident that she knew something. What's slipped you was whether or not she want to bash you for your actions.

She had every right to do so.

"Yeah. Of course, uhh, tomorrow sounds good."

....

Christmas day wasn't as bad as you had expected it to be when Hange had announced to you that Levi would be coming alone with Petra.

For starters, the food was in plehtora; Erwin had cooked your jolly favorite roasted chicken, Mike and Nanaba had brought an enormous plate of their creamiest, most mouth watering souffle, Levi had made some god tasty pumpkin soup and Hange had taken actually good care of fixing a custom non alcoholic cocktail to each one of you.

All of this drool worthy deliciousness had caused, and non surprisingly at that, your body to submit in that peaceful demi slumber that tagged along with the fullness of your tummy. Frankly, it had been so long since you had enjoyed such a good meal and you didn't think you would be enjoying another one until Mikasa's birthday.

Thus, the cool evening sir that entered the room when Erwin opened the window door to the balcony, found you laying on the floor right next to the tangerine fire that danced in the fireplace. You could faintly feel Nanaba's hand scratch at the roots of your hair, her almond tipped nails slowly running in purringly mellow lines over your sculp that sent you to pure delight.

Levi's eyes danced over your form more than he'd like to admit so. Ever so slightly his pupils would travel up and down your thighs and calfs, examining the material of your sheer back pantyhose but whatever emotion overcame him wasn't the animalistic lust he had expected to feel.

He felt rather guilty. And not only for staring at your legs. For bringing himself upon the situation he was in.

It wasn't easy to think with a throbbing head but in Levi's world this poor condition was translated as a prompt to try to get out of whatever shithole he had found himself in. Maybe. Because there was also a certain part inside of him that bashed him to no end about his previous and degrading actions to both Petra's and his person, which part he completely and rationally justified.

With a quick glance at Petra, Levi brought his hand to his face to hopefully wipe any of the numbness his guilt had got him feeling. Petra seemed to enjoy herself as per usual. With her soft smiles and the mellow sway of her hair over her shoulder, she'd often reach for the hem of her white wooly cardigan to cover her shoulder while cooing into the soft material and onto the side of the couch she was seating in.

It would be hard for anyone to guess that the two of them had broken up.

She was unsurprisingly sitting as far off him as she could; the fact that they hadn't announced to anyone they had broken up because they didn't want the Christmas party at Erwin's to be ruined didn't mean she owned Levi to act like his faithful and bubbly dog.

It happened that night after he had stood her up at the movies.

Levi had gathered all of his determination and had managed to push all thoughts aside from the back of his brain, as he was despairate to ignore that feeling your make out session had brushed on him. He had walked up to Petra, all dissolved and stoic, his chest swelling with anxiety. He had stared at her with an agape mouth, he had been muttering words so honest that he felt were fatally brute and Petra had digested them all without any difficulty.

And before he knew it, he was over and done.

Petra hadn't cried, she hadn't wept, she had only answered him with a smile that she'd rather just be friends with him if things weren't going to work between them.

And to an extended it tortured the ravenette, mostly because he remembered the hurt look in her face before she had managed to hide it with her usual mellow smile.

Taking another sigh, Levi stared at Petra's hand while she played silently with the lettuce hem of her dress. Her hazel orbs were fixed on you, who laid before the fireplace like a stray cat on the tire of car during a snowy day. Levi couldnt exactly place the exact emotion behind Petra's expression, though it would be perceived by most as a saddened one. There were specs of regret gathering at the corners of her eyes, reluctance gathered at her slightly puckered lips and a hint of determination to the front tips of her eyebrows.

Maybe Petra's inner strength was something that Levi deeply admired.

Levi made no effort whatsoever to reach out to her to ask what was going on, not even to show some seemingly convern. The more he looked at Petra, the more it felt utterly wrong for him to simply stand next to her, knowing what he had do behind her back. Whether he loved her or not, it wasn't like him to be caught up in such stupid drama.

"Shorty!"

Levi looked up to an enthusiastic Hange with much tousled hair and a big grin on her face that spread from one ear to another. With another, more thorough glance, he quickly became aware of the cake in her hands; a cake covered in white frosting, decorated with soft pastel green letters that wrote a simple birthday wish to his person. He couldn't help but let out a sigh.

"For you!" Hange smiled further "Erwiiin, come light up the candles!"

Looking around the room he noticed how all of his friends' gazes were on him. Mike and Nanaba remained cuddled on the couch opposite to the one he was on, Petra was mellowy smiling at his eith her cherry lips pressed into a thin line and you were fiddling with what seating arrangement was most comfortable for you at the moment.

"We're celebrating another year where you went up in age and down in height, how delightful." Mike commented, causing laughter to spark between the small group of people around you.

After the spur of happiness died out your eyes met with Levi's, briefly and then they traveled anywhere else in the room altogether.

"Let's light up the candles!" Smiled Erwin as he flicked the small metallic button of his lighter.

"I don't want too many, shit. The last time you took my lungs out."

"Not our fault that you're old Levi!" You spoke, earning a half smile by the ravenette.

"Very old!" Hange agreed.

"Tch, I'm only turning twenty six shut your shitty mouths!"

The warm light of the fire licked each waxed strip of wick that hung from the candles, illuminating Hange's face in warm orange light. Once done with lighting up the candles, Erwin plopped himself in between Levi and Petra, crossing his hands over his knees as he shifted his bottom in the most uncomfortable seating on a couch you had ever witnessed.

You merely caught a glimpse of Hange kneeling before Levi as you dragged your gaze over to Petra, fixating it on her for the thousandth time this evening.

There only was one thing in your head that bounced between the crevices of your brain like crazy. Just one simple words that held so much behind it.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow you were going to apologize to Petra and try to make amends. Being the despicable toxic person you had turned into didn't suit you. Owing up to your mistakes was the first step to redemption and you weren't afraid to take it.

As you fell into a spiral of thoughts and guesses about tomorrow though, you couldn't help but subtly ignore the cheerful sing alone to Levi's birthday song.

.....

"Thank you for coming!"

Petra's hair was messily swaying all over her face, falling a direct victim to the frozen December air, yet she smiled as if nothing was going on.

The park around you was covered in snow. White was primarily the color that was plastered on everything, save for the dry stems of trees that were once covered in forest green leaves.

Your peeping hot coffee did nothing to warm up your hands, despite your best wishes and in the moment you had called victim to some specs of jealousy over Petra's gloved hands as they rubbed soothing over her own coffee.

"Of course, I had been meaning to talk to you as well."

"Oh you did?" Petra spoke with her eyebrows following the little surprise that was masking her tone. "To be honest, I didn't think you'd come."

"Yeah about that-"

"Can I please go first?" Petra cut you off.

Her huge hazel eyes that blinked into yours from your left side left you little to no space to deny her wish. Thus, by taking a sigh, you pushed past the quick beating of your heart and gestured her to go first with a kind smile on your face.

"Okay oof, thanks!" Petra huffed "look. Levi and I broke up. Now I know that you'll say it doesn't concern you, and frankly it'd be ideal if it didn't, but I know it does, because Levi explained to me what happened."

At that Petra slightly paused.

Naturallye first thing that came to your mind was the need to express an apology. Although, you weren't that sure if Petra would perceive the apology as sincere, you felt like you ought to give one to her. Yet her eyes blinked into yours further as she took another turn down the path you were walking on and you wordlessly followed asuit.

"I love Levi you know," she sighed "but Levi loves you. You're not over each other and it's painfully obvious, I mean you did just collided to eachother quite literally, not giving a single care about whether you couldn't have each other or not."

A sheer red colored tint painted your cheeks at her words.

Your skin pricked you, burning up a stingingly painful path to all of the pores on your face as shame took the form of an earth shattering wave. Your heart started heaping beats, hollering into the depths of your chest and you could hear it bounce inside your eardrums as if your whole body was hollow save for the jolting organ and the echo of the sound it made was bouncing around each fleshy wall.

Petra was right and you couldn't help but accept but stand the as she was lightning you with her words.

"It hurts to see that someone that I love doesn't love me back but it hurts more to see that you two are very miserable without eachother. I really thought you were a bitch you know."

At the sound of that, you let out a startled laugh.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you just gave us looks when we'd shoe up together somewhere or you'd simply leave, but I don't like turning my back on people and judging them like that. I'm in no place to judge anyone a coping mechanism."

Petra sighed. Her fingers curled strongly onto her cup, while her left palm went to support the cup by the bottom as she angled it on her lips. She made a tiny gulping noise as she drank a sip from her latte, her nose crinkling up as the hot beverage brushed over her sensitive tongue. In turn, you sipped similarly, mimicking Petra just hoping it would serve as a sign for her to go on with her speech.

"I might be hurt, but I vouch to help you and Levi resolve what's going on and get back together."

"You do?"

"Mhm"

"Petra I, I don't know what to say you- you're a literal angel." You admit and the guilt in your stomach only growled in its awakening.

You and Levi had hurt a wonderful person. Petra didn't need to be nice to you, she didn't need to offer to help you with anything but once you made yourself step inside her shoes you were able to see why she had perceived you the way that she initially had.

"I'm sorry."

Your voice was silent and stripped of any emotion other than shame yet Petra was beaming at you in response.

Her warm smile was elegant and comforting as she stared at you, taking another gulp of her drink with a soft giggle. Your eyes were locked with hers, saddened (e/c) irises staring into her hazel ones, as she smiled even more little by little.

It was strange.

There was a different kind of bubbling inside your chest and you knew because your heart wasn't hammering anymore, not was your stomach trying to be ripped apart in tiny pieces after it vored into your other intestines. You felt serene, at peace even.

It clicked to you that this is what must feel to be forgiven.

"It's fine, plus you guys kinda deserve each other." Petra laughed at your chocked inhale, pressing a comforting, gloved palm to your shoulder. "I'd rather find my happiness when I'm not in between two people that struggle to find theirs."

Petra nuzzled to the comfort of her jacket, giving you a scrunched up bunny smile. You knew it's not that she hoped you could be best friends after this. She simply wanted to make sure that she could do her best to help two people find happiness. And it wasn't all that bad, you figured. You didn't know what you would do were you in her place.

In a way, you admired Petra for being so strong.

"Besides, girls shouldn't bring down other girls."

"Yeah, and I'm sorry about what I did behind your back. I own up to my mistake. I can't take it back but I can promise that I won't become this toxic ever again."

You shot an apologetic side smile at her as you followed her tracks.

Taking a new look in your surroundings, you deeply inhaled the cold air, filling your lungs in shivering winter freshness. A few specs of snow were adorning Petra's hair as the fell from the sky in a dainty manner, licking the stray threads that popped from her wooly gloves.

There definitely was a commotion a few blocks away. You could hear sirens go off not so far from your spot but you chose to ignore them, it was typical for a city person to filter out unnecessary noise, and having to live in Trost added tons to what you had to filter or not.

"It's December twenty six and the two is back to being a Mayhem." Petra sighed.

"It's like we're Gotham or some shit."

"Gotham?" Petra blinked at you, earning a gasp from you.

"Step one to being the friend of someone who's majoring in comics-"

"Oh, friends yay!"

Shaking your head, to ignore the child like enthusiasm, you continued, "Please know the most well known fictional city, it's Batman's city too."

"OH!" Petra's mouth fell agape as she took in the information, but she quickly giggled again as she saw that you easily took a gulp of your beverage "you're right."

For what seemed like a second you felt at peace once again. Petra bubbled about how she wanted to apologise to Levi about her rather cold behavior last night, and explained in the most non detailed way how it was the memory of the passing of her mother that had caused her to become this grumpy.

"Don't worry Petra! But beware, you could be turning into Levi version two point oh and-"

A loud sound startled you, sending both you and Petra back a few steps. Dumbfounded, you stared at each other and around you, locking eyes with different by passers that were just as shocked as you.

"Maybe we should go back!" Petra suggested. You simply nodded, hearing a good amount of running footsteps coming to the direction of the block you were in. In any way, getting caught up with a manhunt wasn't in your plans for today

"Yeah maybe we shou-"

Your words were cut off absurdly, harshly and shockingly all together. As gunmetal orbs locked with yours, your eyelids shot open, hour mouth dropping to the snow covered concrete.

"Levi?"

Wait, Levi? That was actually so random

Before you could manage to process what was going on around you, or why on earth Levi had just popped up from the alley right across you another head splitting sound filled the air.

Levi -yes, this was indeed Levi, you just didn't really know how to process this- collapsed on his knees like a rag doll, his torso and head giving in to the exhaustion of his body. Once he fell, you stood frozen, shieldimg Petra with one hand as the two of you watched in horror while crimson started littering the sugary snow.

"Call an ambulance." You spoke dryly, eyes still wide with horror.

The people who had seemed to be after Levi quickly fell onto the hands of the hands of a handful of police men who were on their tracks, but you couldn't care to look at their faces. You just run towards Levi, always followed by a petrified Petra, your feet giving in as you kneeled right next to him, your fingers gingery ghosting over him just to inspect what was his condition.

You listened as Petra spoke with the emergency center in horror, explaining what was the scene before her eyes while struggling to keep herself from trembling.

"What's going on?" Shy muttered once she detached the phone off her ear.

"I'm pretty sure now is not the right time for a story, but Levi used to be in a street gang in his teens."

"Oh boy."

Oh boy indeed.

Here's your gentle reminder that constructive criticism makes me cry because I'm a baby

Taglist: @sasageyowrites @liddolwhynot2000 @ackermans-freedom-inc @callmepromise @nobody-knows-anymore @levisbrat25 @thethyri @hawkssnugget @berrijam @melancholicmonologue

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thebrochtuarachs · 4 years ago

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Arranged: Chapter 6

Modern AU. Set in present time. Where Claire and Jamie are arranged to be married.

CH: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

AO3

A/N: Hello, everyone! I'd like to start with an apology for not updating for so so long. This story is still very dear to me, I daydream a lot of the next chapters, it's in my head and in my drafts and I just didn't realize that has been quite a while since I posted a chapter. Time flew by so quickly in the pandemic, I hadn't seen it pass. Anyway, posting this short and sweet update. Hope you like it! As always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome :) Hope that you are keeping safe and healthy! Till the next!

XXXXX

The Ring of the Woman of Balnain – or that’s what they call the ring for generations since the 18th century.

For Jamie, it was simply his 8-times great-grandmother’s ring – a small circlet passed down his family for generations. His siblings never cared for the old thing but Jamie loved it ever since he was a wee lad and asked his parents to give it to him when he was old enough – and that time was, apparently, now.

After his mother ambushed him in the kitchen, Jamie was now in possession of one the most precious things in his life. He promised himself that he would give it to the woman he’ll marry someday as a gift and sign of his love and he hoped that the ring would bring luck in their relationship.

When he realized that Claire Beauchamp was the one, he thought about asking for the ring but then he found out about Frank Randall and had to re-evaluate his chances and options. All of his plans for him and Claire got put on hold until their parents intervened with this crazy scheme. But this crazy scheme, allow him to at least, put some plans in place.

A week later, his mother found the ring box on his bed side table, untouched and unopened.

“Give it to her. I want you to give it to Claire. It’s perfect” she heard Ellen say to Jamie who just groaned in disapproval.

“Mam, I thought we were going to do this in our own time, our own terms. Giving her this does not make all of this any easier.” Jamie replied.

“I know, son. But this has a special meaning to our family, ye ken that. Even if this arrangement is so, I would – no, we would, yer father and I – would love it if ye kept with the tradition.”

Then came one of Jamie’s exasperated sighs. “I’m no promising anything, Mam. I’ll think about it but don’t expect anything”

He and Claire hadn’t really discussed the nature of their relationship one month in since getting reacquainted. But the truth was, with all the time they’ve been spending together ( almost everyday ), they’ve gotten really close that even the people close to them have started noticing up to a point where they asked if there was something going on between them.

Of course, they denied it – not wanting anyone to know about what really was going on – saying they were just friends and reasoned the mere fact that their families were close and that was the way it’s always been for them. A damn, unreliable lie but it’s all they got.

Their research was not progressing in any form which was starting to frustrate Claire. Everything they were getting from “company sources'' just didn’t make sense in any scenario or plan. Money was not an issue, their family relations were not an issue, their business relations were not an issue… they were running out of “reasons” and “clues” but Claire refused to give up. Of course, Jamie knew otherwise but silently played along.

Thankfully, their final exams were coming and Jamie decided to put pause on everything and have a break from their research and each other - their schedule not permitting any free time. They haven’t seen each other in a week.

Today, Jamie had been in the coffee shop for hours since almost all of his classes got cancelled when his building suddenly needed to be fumigated.

“This seat taken?” the voice was unfamiliar and Jamie looked up to find Laoghaire Mackenzie looming over his table. He knew about her and her fondness of him, she was never to shy to show it anyway, but he’d never taken a liking to the lass. She wasn’t his type and he didn’t like her personality at all. Despite numerous turndowns, she was still persistent.

Sensing his refusal, she made another attempt. “The table sits four and yer the only one.” She moved the chair in front of him causing the bag to fall over and all of its contents sprawled over the floor.

“I’m sorry. Here” she said, giving some of his things as he stood to pick it up. “Well?” she asked again, waiting for his invitation. Jamie was a gentleman and seems there was no reason to give the lass a boot or the seat. He was about to reluctantly agree when another voice chimed in.

“Actually, the seat is taken.” Claire’s voice was a happy sound in Jamie’s ear. Laoghaire turned to see whose voice was cockblocking her to Jamie and frowned. Laoghaire and Claire have never had a conversation before past pleasantries and despite that, they seem to have grown a dislike to each other, an unspoken disapproval of each person’s position in Jamie’s life. Too bad for Laoghaire, Claire knew she had the upper advantage and would gladly take that road anytime around her.

Claire wore her smug face proudly as Laoghaire huffed and shoved her way past her. Jamie, to his credit, didn’t say anything but rather he smiled at her in such a way that made Claire’s heart sing and she knew it came from a place of utmost gratitude.

Claire took her seat and Jamie started fixing his bag. Upon inspection, he realized he was missing something. Alarmed, Jamie quickly put out its contents again but still, it was not there.

He stood up and looked around the floor, pacing himself around the perimeter of his area. At one point, he even kneeled and bowed down just to look under chairs.

It was still not there.

Jamie stood up, flushed and a paleness was creeping in his face. He has lost it. How could he have lost it? Did Laoghaire take it with her? How would he tell his Mam that he lost a 300-year old family ring? Questions were pouring out his mind and he felt utter despair in the situation.

He wasn’t even supposed to bring it. It was a last minute decision to have it checked and cleaned.

“Looking for this?” Claire lifted the black leather box.

Jamie turned his head so fast, Claire thought he’d trip with his own momentum. But seeing the relief on his face warmed her heart.

“Thank ye!” he sat and moved to get the box but Claire pulled it away. “What’re..?”

“What is this?” she asked genuinely. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Tis’ nothing, Claire” he said, attempting to grab it from her again but was unsuccessful. She gave him a look and he resigned. “Yes. But there’s no need to think about it now, we have exams coming up.”

It wasn’t the same for Claire. The box did cross her mind from time to time since the dinner. But she, too, resigned and gave the box back to Jamie. “Fine, okay. Can I, at least, see it though?” she asked shyly.

“What?”

“Can I see it?”

Oh. Jamie was not expecting that. He didn’t think she’d be interested at all but here they are. He looked around, checking the place. The coffee shop was sparse and there’s no one close enough to pay them attention.

Jamie then focused on her, his eyes boring intently on hers, hoping to convey a certain reverence and seriousness on what he was about to show her. Slowly, he lifted the lid of the box revealing the simple silver ring within, his eyes observing her reaction.

Claire’s eyes focused on the ring as soon it was revealed. She honestly wasn’t expecting anything but if it was an engagement ring, at least, she thought, there’d be a diamond on it.

But this one was as simple a simple band can be and she was captivated by it. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad ye think so. My brother and sister never cared for it…”

“But you do.” she finished and he nodded in agreement. “How old is it?”

“About three centuries old? It has been passed down in my family for generations” Jamie shared but not giving away any more details. That was for another story.

“Alright, I have to be honest” Claire began. “I heard your conversation with Aunt Ellen last dinner. I knew about the box. It was accidental, I promise! I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I’m sorry. This is what I was avoiding. We’re in a tough spot as it is and now this. I’m sorry, Claire. Don’t think about it. I’ll deal with my parents.” Jamie rambled on his apology and closed the box.

“No, no. It’s fine. I know what she meant and I know it’s ultimately up to us.” she moved her hand to comfort him and it landed parallel to where he clutched the box. Jamie startled with the proximity but she didn’t seem to notice and he didn’t move either. “Do you think it’ll buy us time if I wore this?”

“Ye want to wear it?!”

“Why not? If it’ll buy us time, why not? Plus, it looks nothing like an engagement ring. Nobody knows if I’m with someone. If anyone asks where I got it, I’d just say I got it from a vintage store or something old family heirloom.” she reasoned.

Jamie doesn’t look convinced still so Claire held his gaze having some unspoken conversation.

“Only if ye genuinely want to.” he countered.

“I want to”, Claire replied earnestly.

After a beat, Jamie lifted his hand and held it out to hers. “Give me yer hand.”

Claire smiled and handed her left hand to his. At that moment, they felt no awkwardness in their bubble. There was a trust, a knowing, a joy, and an excitement that neither thought of and realized until later. Jamie got the ring from the box and slid it on her ring finger.

A perfect fit.

Jamie wanted to kiss the back of her palm but resisted. Instead, he gave it a gentle squeeze and let it go.

Claire pulled back and proceeded to pull out her books and other stuff on the table and Jamie settled back to his. The rest of the afternoon went by as they normally did until it was time to head home.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #jamie fraser #claire fraser #jamie x claire #arranged #arranged au #mia writes #TB writes #Mia finally updates!#thank you readers!

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sadoeuphemist · 4 years ago

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Six Times You Knew What Everyone Was Thinking (and one time you didn’t):

The King sits you down with his other two advisors, has you close your eyes, puts a hat on each of your heads. The hats will be either red or white, he says, with at least one red one. The first to speak up and name the color of their own hat wins the prize.

You open your eyes, see the other two advisors both with red hats staring at you. You all study each other, thinking. Silence. Silence. No one coming to a conclusion.

Ah, but in their silence it is obvious: if your hat were white, surely one of them would have figured it out already. Your hats all are red, of course.

You pass through a tunnel in a group of n where n>2 friends, wind blowing through your hair; you emerge from the darkness to see each of your friends with a smudge of soot on their foreheads. You laugh. You cannot help but laugh. They look hilarious! The moment they realize they have a smudge of soot on their foreheads, they will wipe it clean, of course, but for now all of you are laughing. You all will keep laughing as long as there is a spot of soot left to be seen.

You think, How inseparable you are from your friends, how your minds all work according to the same rules of logic! You can imagine what they are all thinking, right now, in their laughter; and they of you; and you are imaging them imagining you and so on ad infinitum. You watch them laughing and are looking into a hall of mirrors.

You think this is what knowing is.

In any case, so long as your minds all tick along at sufficiently different speeds, eventually, your faces will all be clean.

You attend a conference of logicians, a mad tea party. At the entrance they place a colored band around your head, forbidding you to look at your own color. They sit you all in a circle around a table, allow everyone to silently look around at one another, to note down the colors of everybody else.

This problem is solvable for everyone, they tell you. At regular intervals, a chime will sound, and everyone who knows the color of their own headband at that point is to stand and leave the table. The game will continue until everyone has left.

An inference: everyone must share a color with at least one other person, see it reflected somewhere, in order to have any chance at succeeding. If you see someone with a color all of their own, ah, then you must be their partner. If a pair fails to stand at the first chime, it is because they must have each seen something in you that you could not see in yourself, and so you will all rise together at the next chime as a trio. And so on, and so on, the smaller groups at first and then the larger, everyone in turn finding the group where they belong.

There is nothing to it but the logic. It is so orderly, so inevitable, done like this.

There is a blind spot in all these variations. Something so obvious that everyone but you can see. A mark on your forehead, a crown or dunce cap placed atop your head, that characteristic of the self that can only ever be perceived through someone else.

You do not know if your husband is cheating on you or not.

There is a system, as these things go. Gossip flows freely here, and so every woman knows of every unfaithful husband in the kingdom but her own. It would be discourteous to tell her. All women in the kingdom are required to train in logic before taking a husband; this too is widely known. You can trust them all as you can trust yourself.

One day the Queen makes an announcement: infidelity has run rampant in the kingdom, and so every woman who learns her husband has been unfaithful to her must kill him that very night. Every execution - or lack of executions - will be publicly announced the next day. You know quite well the number of unfaithful husbands in the kingdom, as does every wife: n, or n+1.

You count the days, and check your loaded pistol, and you wait.

There are two hundred inhabitants of the island: a hundred brown-eyed, ninety-nine blue-eyed, and you. The rules of the island are numerous, and contrived, and have little room for variation, but by now I think you must have grasped the pattern. You all think in lockstep, are all perfect logicians. You all know the color of everyone’s eyes but your own.

One final rule: the moment someone knows their own eye color, they must leave the island by ferry that night.

For a long time nothing happens. Each day passes like the other. The sky is an eternal blue. No one learns anything.

And then one day, an oracle visits the island, gathers everyone together to make a single announcement: there is at least one person among you with blue eyes.

She has not told anyone anything new, of course. You all could see either a hundred or ninety-nine blue-eyed people; you all knew that already. And yet, the count has started; time, invisibly, is ticking. And yet, and yet, and yet...

The answer has been much discussed: on the hundredth night, all one hundred blue-eyed people leave the island (as it turns out, you had blue eyes, as might have been predicted).

But the question is this: What did you learn?

You and one of your blue-eyed compatriots have been captured, locked in separate cells, far from one another. Eight strong iron bars block the door of your cell; your fellow islander (though you do not know this, have yet no way of knowing) counts twelve in theirs.

Your captor told you this, before you were separated: the number of bars in both your cells added together would total to either twenty, or eighteen. Your task is to determine which. He will first ask your friend during the day, and then if they cannot reason out an answer, he will come to ask you at night. Day in, day out, until one of you can give the correct number with absolute certainty, and then you will both be freed.

You learn nothing else each day, nothing but your continued inability to answer. You must choose between two immutable possibilities - your friend must either have ten bars, or twelve - and as one day passes, then the next, then the next, the routine and options both unchanging, it may seem impossible to ever inch towards a conclusion.

Ah, but then when were you ever limited to what was merely possible?

There are 8 bars in your cell; theirs must have either 10 or 12. Meaning they might imagine you as having 8, or 10, or 6. And so they imagine you in your cell as you were a moment before, calculating the possible number of bars in their cell: 10, 12, 8, 14. And from there, you imagine, they imagine you imagining them imagining you: 10 or 8 or 6 or 12 or 4 ...

Each possibility branches out into further possibilities, broadening the ranges, worlds within worlds within worlds within worlds. You are so alike. You know each other, perfectly: not just in everything that might be, but in all the things you might imagine within those possibilities that right now are ruled out even as hypothetical, and the things your imagining’s imaginings might imagine, and so on and on and on...

You are looking into a hall of mirrors.

Uncertainties multiply themselves. Through the kaleidoscopic reflections of one another you each discern every combination of numbers that might be conceived of, no matter how many layers deep in hypothetical: 18 and 2, or 16 and 2, or 16 and 4, or 14 and 6, and so on all the way down the rabbit hole.

After the first day passes without incident, there is no longer any conceivable set of worlds where your friend has eighteen bars. (The answer would be too obvious, the game over immediately.)

After the first night passes, if you know your friend does not have eighteen bars and yet you still cannot give an answer, then there is no longer any conceivable set of worlds where you have two.

The days pass in silence. The range of possibilities shrinks, ever gradually honing in on the truth.

Of course, you both already knew full well that these combinations were impossible. You each had your own set of bars, perfectly immutable, the iron laws of addition and subtraction. You all saw a red hat. Ninety-nine pairs of blue eyes, at the least! Everyone knew, and everyone knew that everyone knew that everyone knew.

But eventually there is an end to the maze of mirrors, of recursive possibilities, after so many, many iterations, when finally you cannot tack on another ‘knew they knew’ and still have it make sense. Then, you wait, each day passing, each of you learning from everyone else in their inaction: I have done nothing yet today to free us, and so now I know they know I do not yet know ...!

(a blue-eyed person sees 99 blue-eyed people, and thinks: they might each see only 98 blue-eyed people, and think: they might each see only 97 blue-eye people, and think: ....... they might each see only 2 blue-eyed people, and think: they might each see only 1 blue-eyed person, and think: they might not see any blue-eyed people at all!)

(this is what the oracle teaches you!)

------

After all your trials, this one is the simplest: You are one of two generals on opposite sides of a city, planning to launch a combined assault. Your target is walled, and well-fortified. You will need to attack together or not at all. A single army alone would certainly be massacred, so neither of you will send your troops forward if there is the slightest hint of doubt.

Alas, your only method of communication is sending messengers back and forth through enemy territory. There is a good chance they will be killed; the journey is quite perilous. But lives are cheap, and messengers are plenty, and you are both eager for victory. How many messages will you need to send back and forth before you can begin?

Answer: this is a simple problem, well known to be impossible. Send as many messengers as you want, but without a reply you cannot be sure that any of them survived. The other general must confirm the message - but how will he know that you received the confirmation without himself receiving another confirmation in return? And then that confirmation must be confirmed, and so on ad infinitum, each link in the chain essential and thus itself needing verification, such that no number of messages successfully delivered could ever be enough.

There is an insurmountable gap between you, meaningless assurances piling up, all made unbearable by uncertainty: Do you understand me? Do you understand me? Do you understand?

RESOURCES:

Wikipedia article on induction puzzles: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Induction_puzzles

Possibly the earliest known formulation of one of these kinds of puzzles (the smudge of soot one), by A.A. Bennett: https://puzzling.stackexchange.com/questions/28194/the-origin-of-the-blue-eyes-puzzle

Blue eyes puzzle (solution): https://xkcd.com/solution.html

18 or 20 bars puzzle: https://puzzling.stackexchange.com/questions/45664/are-there-eighteen-or-twenty-bars-in-my-castle

Two Generals’ problem: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Two_Generals%27_Problem

Common knowledge: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_knowledge_(logic)

#fiction

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hisunshiine · 4 years ago

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Money Heist | knj | Part 1

moodboard 1 | moodboard 2 | playlist | Netflix ReImagined BTS Masterlist

↳ #NetflixReImaginedBTS: Kim Namjoon x Reader starring in a bank robbery au

↳ M-18+, implied sexual content, major character deaths, bank robbery actions (violence, use of weapons, deciet)

The Professor’s Rules

Rule #1 - No real names Rule #2 - No falling in love Rule #3 - Absolute trust Rule #4 - No games Rule #5 - Follow the plan, throughout Rule #6 - No taking lives, no civils Rule #7 - Low profile Rule #8 - Memorize the plan Rule #9 - Codes, escape routes Rule #10 - Blend

Prologue: Dread was not the right word to use to express how I felt. Every waking moment was an uncertainty. Every passing day I had to look over my shoulder. Senses on high alert, heart-pounding fiercer, I had to stay sharp. All I had to rely on was my intuition, rationality, the rush of adrenaline as it pumped through my veins as it guided me to safety.

There was no room for fuckups. Rules were set in place before, during, and after the heist. The Professor made sure of it.

Everything was methodically thought out. There was zero tolerance for anything that steered from what already was part of the Professor’s plan. Every detail was thoroughly calculated, gone through numerous times until perfected, and every possible scenario or turn the heist could go, the Professor had already considered it.

When I met him, I guessed him to be someone who was reserved. That initial thought, however, remained throughout the months I spent and got to know him. Regardless of my attempts to loosen him up, he grew more inward. A timid and quiet man, one I could not quite figure out despite my intuitive bullshit radar. My instincts told me otherwise. The Professor was someone I could trust. Moreover, he was someone who had my back if the going ever got tough.

Even after I had broken one of his sacred rules, he kept me around.

He stated it was solely because of my natural blend-ability. In other words, I was the type of person who could go unnoticed and get away with things. Although originally offended, one of the Daegu brothers – during our first meetings – mockingly pointed out my pretty privilege, claiming it was a universal thing to bend the rules and show favoritism to people that society deemed as attractive.

It bothered me to my core but despite it – and as the only woman on the team – I had to admit, I could complete missions and do things the others were not able to. Because of this, I was an asset regardless of how many rules I broke.

I was aware of it being careless, stupid even. It was not something that was planned, it was merely something that happened beyond my control. It occurred and I did not regret it one bit.

Love always seemed to happen at the least likely places. It was not a foreign concept to me, neither were relationships. In fact, I cherished everything about love and my language of expression was forever limitless.

When I was introduced to the other members the Professor carefully handpicked for the heist, I was taken aback by their charms and charisma.

They were handsome, all six of them; each with their own styles and skills to assist the Professor and his master plan. Some of them knew each other from rumors or past jobs and others did not.

I worked alone, always had and always would.

The day the Professor recruited me, he had asked to meet him at Chateau de Foix, a castle in France. He had sneakily placed a note in my jacket as I was scouting a Chanel store intending to rob it days later. I was not sure what I was getting into but before even meeting him, he assured me with his note that he could make me wealthier than I could ever contemplate. So, I met him at Chateau de Foix.

I was interested. He caught my attention.

He did not disclose much until he was certain I was someone who he could trust. Honestly, I could not blame him. Partners were not my thing, especially partnering with a man. There was something about them that made my skin crawl. When it came to men and money, there was always one certain thing; they would fuck you over.

The Professor laid out pieces of his plan and as obscure and ambitious as it was, I kind of felt intrigued by his nerdy appearance, his hesitation to look me in the eye, how well-spoken he was and how greatly he sold his plan.

Again, he caught my attention.

Luckily, he had informed me where the next meeting would be and that I was the only woman on the team. He requested I thought it over and I did. I flew to South Korea. That was where the plan had to take place.

At first, I could not escape the futile catcalls or misogynistic remarks. The Professor was too much of a beta to control the dominant thieves who thought they knew better than most.

The worst one was the man with the effortless beauty and striking features. At first glance, he did not look Korean. GC as we called him, or Geochang County as the Professor had dubbed him. Younger brother to Daegu and quite frankly, a little too handsy for my liking and too excited to see a pair of tits on the team. So, I did what I had to ensure my survival and role as well as what I did not tolerate.

He did not appreciate the sass and the chokehold on his intimate part as I stood my ground.

Since then, no one had attempted to try my patience. In fact, all the teasing became just that, teasing … with zero malice or ill intentional comments. They were guys around me, sure, but they became mindful, more tolerable. Exactly how I preferred my men.

For months, I spent time with the six guys including the Professor as we prepared to rob the Bank of Korea. I got to know them individually and I had to admit they were starting to feel like family.

The Professor had set us up at Jindo, a remote island known for its parting sea during the spring season. He had rented a beach house and from there we listened as the Professor disclosed his plan, made the necessary preparations such as getting familiar with the bank, its routines, staff, and much more.

Busan, Seoul, and I would often get paired when a trip to the Bank of Korea was presented.

Busan was a mastermind in human behavior and expertly designed profiles of everyone that worked at the bank; from cleaners to CEOs. If you ever wondered or had questions about anyone going in and out of the bank, Busan was the man to call.

Despite his small size and soft features, he was a man who could not tolerate disadvantages. Knowledge was power he would often say especially during a heist and he would stride for perfection.

He was smart.

I did not think of making profiles for the law enforcement that would be called to deal with the hostage situation we would inevitably have to take to secure our survival. But Busan did. He knew exactly who the bank would call, their past, their marital status, the number of kids, he knew everything.

He was an asset.

Seoul, however, possessed something that completely went over my head. Technology. At first glance, I guessed him to be an assassin of some sort.

He was the quietest of the group and the hardest man to get close to. Despite his big eyes and tattoos, he was extremely fun to be around. Once he opened up, I realized my instincts about him were a tad off. Although a part of me questioned my abilities, I came to the realization that looks could be deceiving. Seoul was someone who did not open up as easily as the rest and had to assess his environment first.

I was much like him and because of this, he and I became the closest.

The technology was not my strongest suit but it was his. Every trip we made to the capital, he gained more knowledge about the bank and the software they used including hacking their system, so we could gain access to the security cameras.

The Professor was beside himself when he received the live footage of the bank. This meant we did not have to expose ourselves by making those trips to the capital but could spy on everyone from the comfort of our beach house.

I was relieved. Unlike Busan and Seoul, I had to be the one to risk everything and use my abilities and go inside the bank. The Professor had bought wigs and often I would rotate them with each trip but that did not stop my heart from beating faster than it ever had.

A thief afraid of getting caught, Busan would joke often in my earpiece but the Bank of Korea was something far greater than the high-end stores I used to steal from. It was a different level and the consequence of getting caught was larger than a meaningless brand shop.

Once the dust settled and we gathered some information, part two of the Professor’s plan could start. Breaking in the bank and taking hostages as leverage was the easiest part. Once inside, we had to establish some kind of order. The Professor would be on the outside helping the rest coordinate from within while being the voice of the heist.

I caught him blankly staring at the vision board he often used like a teacher standing in front of his class, deep in thought as his eyes wandered across the whiteboard, “Can I help?”

“No, I’m thinking.”

“Need help thinking?” I teasingly suggested the wine bottle I was drinking from.

“Once inside, what is your job?”

“The hostages with GC.”

“Why?”

I shrugged as I took a sip. The Professor ripped his gaze from the board and glared at me. He was not in the mood for my games. Something was bothering him. So, I sighed, “We both can handle a gun, GC isn’t afraid to use it. By having one of each gender there, the women will feel safer and the men won’t try anything.”

“And?”

“And we are the calm and order. Our job is to keep them quiet and put the fear of God in them.”

“And you?” he murmured as he placed his index finger on the bridge of his nose, keeping his glasses from falling, “I am sure there will be arguments and disagreements once you get inside. There’s no going around that fact. All of you have some kind of experience but most of you are hot-headed. Who will put the fear of God in you? As you eloquently said. Who?”

“Gwacheon is the oldest.” The Professor stood up after my answer. I watched him as he began to collect his things from the desk before he excused himself, “Where do you plan on going?” I asked as I followed him to the front door.

“I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” He reached for his jacket and told me to trust him and take a break until he returned before leaving for an unknown mission.

A couple of days turned into a week. The Professor was gone and some of the other guys grew agitated. Some questioned him and his plan while others, including myself, did as he had asked and took a break.

Gwacheon, the oldest and the most level-headed person on the team, was lounging by the bonfire created for the dinner he was preparing. Loyal to the Professor as I was, he went ahead and took his suggestion.

Everyone was desperate for a break. It had been months of planning and thinking of every detail. A break was welcomed, needed.

Gwacheon had planned a dinner for the team and was thrilled to have some downtime. With beers in the cooler, the sun setting beyond the horizon, and a cozy fire, he began to season the beef as he hollered for me to start the music. The Professor was on my mind. So, in honor of him, I played ‘Bella Ciao’ by Manu Pilas. He was far from home as was I and although he was not around at the moment to enjoy the festivities with us, I knew he was with us in spirit.

I tapped on Gwacheon’s broad shoulder and he shot an amused smile. The Latin vibes of the upbeat song made me dance with soju in my hand. Allowing the Spanish words to energize and elevate my mood as I poorly attempted to sing along. He laughed at my dance but could not help swing his hips along to the beat.

My eyes then caught Daegu’s as he was assembling a gun. He smiled and shot me a quick nod to sit by him.

I eyed him as he began to pick the L85 apart before placing it in front of me. I raised an eyebrow at him, he chuckled while gesturing I gave it a shot. Proclaiming it was better to be prepared for a situation rather than a situation unfolding and remaining oblivious.

From the moment I met him, I knew he was the real deal, even heard rumors about the great mastermind who stole the Hope Diamond. When questioning him in my drunken state, Daegu simply flashed me a gummy smile. I was not too sure what that meant but I was certain he was someone who was legit and that I could potentially learn a lot from. I did.

Daegu was the kind of man who kept to himself, quiet and reserved like the Professor but he did not shy away from passing down his experiences and knowledge. I often caught myself wondering how polar opposite he was from his brother, GC. Daegu struck me as someone methodical with his approach while GC was spontaneous. But as the Professor ensured, GC had something most in the team did not have; quick thinking, unique perspectives, and the kind of smarts that could never be taught.

“Go ahead,” Daegu said as GC came into view with Gwangju carrying bowls of rice, kimchi, and steamed vegetables.

I grabbed the disassembled parts and attempted to assemble them to my best capabilities. Daegu grinned and GC approached the table. He waited a moment and watched as I struggled with the parts until he groaned and grabbed the gun from me.

Swiftly, he assembled the gun while casually counting in his native tongue, “Samshipil,” he announced as he slid the gun back to me, “31 seconds.”

“That’s a record,” Daegu smiled at his brother.

“I don’t know what the Professor was on but I doubt you’ll get any hostage to take you seriously if you can’t even do that.”

“Don’t listen to him. He’s a prick,” Daegu shot his brother a glare, “We have time,” he began to disassemble the gun once more, “Try again.”

I was grateful for Daegu’s patience. Although I had some knowledge of firearms, I tended not to use them during my ventures. A small pocket pistol was always in my bag and I could operate it. However, these types of guns were far from anything I had experienced, bigger too.

Luckily though, Daegu was a trained assassin and this was his specialty. He along with Gwacheon and Gwangju had pulled off heists before; together as well as separate. In other words, they were the experts on the team.

Daegu and Gwangju had a friendship like no other and had often saved each other from dire situations. They had worked multiple jobs together and relied on one another in admirable ways. For a moment, I was envious of their friendship and loyalty to each other.

Although Gwacheon had worked with them before, he often carried out small heists on his own. Much like myself, he preferred not to have a partner but made me realize that sometimes they could be useful, especially when it came to bigger jobs.

He was a lone wolf when he had to be. He told me to remember that. And I did.

I did not see the appeal. In fact, humans tend to be unreliable and oftentimes selfish. I could not trust it, anyone for that matter. It was one of the first things I learned from my father. His partner had sold him out, so he could reduce the sentence the authorities were threatening him with. Since then, I did not seek the help of others.

It was always me, myself, and I. However, the Professor managed to find a group of people whose company I actually enjoyed. Despite being thieves and some of them murderers, they were a group of men I had grown to like and trust.

Gwangju sat opposite me as I struggled with the L85. He clinked his soju bottle with mine and I grinned before giving up, “Look me in the eye as you take the first sip,” I ordered.

“Cheers,” he said and grinned, “Does that mean something where you’re from?”

“Means you’ll have bad sex if you don’t.”

“Well in that case,” he clinked his bottle with mine once more, “We don’t want that.”

He shot me a big and pearly smile before he began to assemble the gun. I studied his prominent features for a moment, admiring his natural beauty and olive skin before directing my gaze down at the heavy firearm as he explained which parts went where.

Fully focused on his words and his handle of the gun, I felt Busan’s presence behind me. He climbed between Daegu and me, “What’s up?” I asked when I caught his eyes.

“After dinner, we should get lit and go to the festival,” his suggestive demeanor forced a smile from me. Out of the six men, he was the one who actively sought my attention, persistent fucker.

He was interested in me, I could sense it. And although it would have been easy to spread my legs for him or any of the others, I was only interested in collecting my end of the robbery. Completing the heist unscathed was my sole concern and these little horny thieves were not going to stray me from my goal.

“Low profile,” Gwangju spat as my eyes were on Busan’s, “We can’t be seen together. Rule number seven.”

“Screw the Professor and his rules,” he responded without taking his eyes off mine. Busan studied my features as my gaze shifted from his plump lips to his dark eyes, “Besides, we deserve a little fun,” he directed his attention to Gwangju, “What the Professor doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

“He did say we were on a break until he got back.”

“Do not encourage him, London,” Gwangju warned after finishing the assembly of the gun.

“A little fun didn’t hurt anyone,” Busan voiced as his fingertips caressed my bare shoulder.

“Careful there, brother,” GC sat beside Gwangju with soju in hand, “You do not want her claws piercing your ballsack.”

“London wouldn’t be that mean to me,” Busan’s eyes wandered between mine and then my lips as he leaned closer, “Would you?”

I felt the hot air from his parted lip brush against mine and I could not help but meet him halfway. With a cocky smirk, I reached down for his clothed manhood, digging my sharp nails in the jean fabric he wore as a sudden groan escaped him, “Don’t get too comfortable, kiddo,” I whispered against his mouth as he hissed and cursed under his breath.

“Told you,” GC grinned, and soon after the rest began to laugh at Busan’s failed attempt.

➰

Busan convinced GC and Seoul to join him at the spring festival. Every year on the day of the parting sea, locals would celebrate the event by throwing a massive street party. The island was known for its festivities and attracted a lot of tourists. I could not visit South Korea and not experience what Jindo had to offer. So, I went, and as reluctant as Gwangju was, he joined us as well until Gwacheon decided to make it a family affair and convinced Daegu to join the outing too.

South Korea had always been a country I wanted to visit. It was known for its rich culture, delicious food, and its kind people. So far, I enjoyed everything I had experienced.

Despite the intention of the visit, I was grateful to be here and be amongst native men who could guide me and translate if needed. Sadly, one of the Professor’s rules was to blend as much as we could and not draw any attention to ourselves. Knowing him and the stick up his butt, he would not have been too pleased to know that we were lounging with the locals, getting drunk until late, and essentially making a mockery of his rule system.

Close to midnight, Daegu wanted to head back to the beach house and he did along with me and Seoul who had to prepare to monitor the bank in the morning. He was close to hacking into the internal security system, the one that allowed us to view everything on the inside.

Freshly out of the shower, the house was painfully quiet with most of the others still enjoying the festivities. I danced around with a pair of headsets blasting music in my ears, enjoying the alcohol that roamed in my system as I shimmied into my undergarments. ‘All That’ by Emotional Oranges came on and I sang along as I smeared lotion on my body. Soon the music captivated every inch of my body and I began to dance when suddenly I caught a glimpse of a man watching me by the door.

A loud gasp came out of me, but as startled as I was, my body knowingly eased, assessing the situation as I stared down the stranger without showcasing any fear. I had not seen him before and I wondered how he had gotten inside of the beach house.

Seoul had explicitly explained that the place was safely secured.

The man leaned against the doorframe as a small sigh evaded his plump lips while he unapologetically allowed his gaze to travel down my body, “The Professor didn’t say anything about a woman being on the team.”

“The Professor?”

He eyed me momentarily, “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’m Ilsan. What’s your assigned city?”

“London.” I nodded as the realization came over me. He was what the Professor was searching for. He was the mission he had mentioned; the team’s leader and the one to instill the fear of God in us.

Just then did it occur to me that Ilsan had to be someone the Professor trusted completely. He was almost obsessively calculated with everything about the heist. For our safety and his own. Everything had to be planned. And he was right. We were hot-headed, argued, and disagreed many times. Everyone had their own styles but for the heist to be successful, it required that we all moved as a team. The Professor knew this, knew once we were inside, he was limited in terms of guidance. Although communication would be out of the question, he needed someone on the inside that would make sure the proper steps would be taken.

I eyed Ilsan and sensed why the Professor had chosen him. He had an authoritative aura. I was sure he was the kind of man who inserted his dominance well. The Professor was a beta but based on first impressions, Ilsan struck me as someone who did not mind and preferred - despite the pressure and responsibility - to be the top alpha of the team.

“London,” he sang, “That's a pretty name. I have been there. Wet country.” I attempted to hold back the appearing smile that the comment accurately described about my home city, “Did you choose it or did the Profess--”

“You got your sneak peek,” I hastily voiced, not interested in his small talk and especially with lack of clothes on, “Fuck off. I’m getting ready for bed.”

He chuckled into a low hum as he crossed his arms, resting his head against the doorframe, “You usually have a party before bed?” I caught a glance of his smirk and the dimples that came along with it. He was a flirt, much like Busan, and I was not having it. Ilsan did not know that I was someone not to be messed with. But he would soon. I walked over to the door and shoved him backward by his chest before slamming the door in his face.

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argumentl · 4 years ago

Text

The Freedom of Expression, Ep 41 - 'Antique' displayed in showcase. Its true identity is..

K: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru with this week's episode of The Freedom of Expression. Joe san, Tasai san, welcome again. Ok, should we get straight on with it?

J: Yeh, shall we?

T: Yeah.

J: Just get started quickly.

K: Ok, Ojikyun... (*see last episode*)

T: Yeh, Ojikyun.

J: I'll try my hardest.

T: Ojikyun Joe.

J: Ok, well, this is today's news. 'Antique displayed in showcase, its real identity is..?'　A photo posted to Twitter of a shop's showcase is getting reactions like, 'I had to look twice!', and 'I was fooled!'. The person who posted the photo was walking the streets, when suddenly they saw a shop with a showcase containing numerous pots. But when this person had a closer look, they were amazed. They read the explanation card and discovered the pots were actually Baumkuchen! The pots, made in various sizes, resemble the real finish and shape of an actual flower vase. The shop, named Villon, is a patisserie located in Sakura Shinmachi in Tokyo, and was established in 1965. These Baumkuchen made in the shape of pottery go by the name of 'Grand Villion', and the shop owner says they were born out of an idea to express the beauty of pottery though cakes. The shop also sells many other products, but people who have seen the photos online have been mistaking the cakes for real pots one after another.

So I think if you have a search online, you'll be able to find the images, but it really is Baumkuchen which looks exactly like a pot.

T: Absolutely.

K: Yeh, for sure.

J: What do you think about this?

K: Its incredible.

T: It is, yeh.

J: Yeh, it is.

T: It is amazing.

J: Yeah. I wonder if they sell a lot of these?

K: Can you buy these online?

J: I wonder if you can?

K: Just by looking, it seems like you order it in store.

J: These look like they are probably difficult to deliver.

K: Right.

J: I feel like it would break during delivery.

T: Yeah. But peope are buying these and taking them home as souvenirs.

J: Yeh, using Baumkuchen to make a pot...

T: Won't it become really well-known?

J: Yeah, it will. Its like making curry into the shape of poo as a kid...What? Didn't you do that?

T: Haha

T, K: No

J: Didn't you ever make curry into the shape of poo and offer it to your friends in elementary school?

K: Haha, no.

J: Its only me?? I bet some people did *points to camera*

T: They didn't, I'm sure they didn't, haha. No-one's gonna fall for you with that.

K: Haha

J: Im not Ojikyun material?

T: Not at all.

K: I thought everyone did that.

T: Hahaha

J: Isn't it a good trick? Making poo with curry? This is the same, just making a pot with Baumkuchen.

K: ??? *1

J: Is that a bit rude of me? Don't you make piled up poo with curry?

T: No! Haha.

K: How do you even make that with curry??

J: Its like, if the curry is left for a while, it congeals a bit, right?

K: The roux.

J: Yeah, kinda like the roux. I did it with that when i was a kid.

T: You did it with that? haha

J: I got into trouble with my parents for it.

K: Well, yeh.

T: Yeah, you would..playing with food.

J: ???*2

K: So thats why you're like this now.

J: No no no, ???*3. But anyway, its like an extension of that, what Villon is doing.

K: Its amazing. The cake at the bottom looks exactly like a real pot.

T: Yeah.

J: Yeh, they have uploaded the pics, but at a glance the Grand Villlon seems to cost close to twenty thousand yen.

T: Yeh, twenty thousand.

K: The big one, right?

J: Yeah, the big one.

T: Oh, the medium sized one costs ¥14,500.

J: Yeh, the big one is about ¥20,000. It would make someone very happy if you gave it as a gift.

T: Well, I wanna try it once.

J: Yeh, me too. Though it probably just tastes like regular Baumkuchen.

T: Of course, yeh.

J: So like, curry in the shape of poo tastes like curry, haha.

T: Hahaha

K: It reminds me of that thing, poo flavoured curry or curry flavoured poo?

J: The ultimate decision, right?

T: Oh, I remember that.

K: Which would you choose?

T: Probably curry flavoured..

K: Poo flavoured is impossible.

J: But the poo flavored one is still just curry.

K: Its ok to eat?

J: Yeah.

K: So if its curry flavored poo, and you eat it will it have an ???*4 influence?

J:..Yeh. It might be something sent from above. But anyhow, it tastes like curry.

K: So, its poo that doesn't harm your body?

J: No, well, the taste. The taste is curry...What are we talking about?? haha.

T: Right? haha

J, K: hahaha.

K: So for this, its like, is it a real pot?

T: Haha

K: Like, a pot that looks like Baumkuchen, or a Baumkuchen that looks like a pot?

J: I feel like this convo is getting off track.

K: That was your fault.

T: You went off on a tangent all of a sudden, haha.

J: Was it my fault? Im so sorry.

K: Should we buy one of these Baumkuchen?

J: Yeah, lets buy one.

K: Haha

T: Lets buy one.

K: We could eat it together.

J: Yeh, we could each put ¥5000 towards it or something.

T: Well, something like that.

K: Yeah.

T: It looks like this store is well established, I bet its delicious.

J: Its great though, established in 1965. The shop is older than me. Its been there for 55 years.

T: Thats amazing.

J: Definitively, lets try it as the TFoE team.

T: Should we ask Kami?

J: Ok. Kami?

Kami: Yes?

J: Oh, he's there, thats good.

T: Yeh, thats good. I thought he might be asleep.

Kami: Did you guys eat Baumkuchen as kids?

J: Well, honestly I was quite poor as a kid. We had a business in our house, but we suddenly went bankrupt and became poor very quickly. My Dad had a car, and he had about a million yen in debts with it, or fines.

T: When was this?

J: Oh, when I was in elementary school, so about forty years ago. So we didn't really eat fancy sweets like Baumkuchen...not that I can remember anyway.

T: Hm, as a small kid..

Kami: Um, I spent a lot of time in Nishinari in Osaka..Baumkuchen in not common there. (*Nishinari is know as a bit of a slum*)

K: Haha.

T: Im sure you can eat it there.

Kami: No, there didn't used to be any there.

T, K, J: Hahaha

J: So, you were in Nishinari, Kami?

Kami: For quite a long time actually.

J: Oh, really?

Kami: In Nishinari they really work hard making ocotopuses with sausages.

T: Haha

J: Haha. Octopuses with sausages?

T: You can buy that in the supermarket.

J: But its the same kind of idea right? Like making pots with Baumkuchen.

Kami: Also using carrots to make flowers.

J,T: Ahh, yeh, I see.

J: Kami, as soon as you enter, the conversion suddenly gets really common.

T: Yeah

Kami: It is the same idea.

K, T, J: Haha

J: Kami, you are pretty interesting.

T: Have you seen those things that are like deep fried Baumkuchen on skewers?

K: Oh yeh, I have.

T: Have you tried them?

J: I've seen deep fried ice cream, or fruit and stuff on a skewer, but not Baumkuchen.

T: Oh, there is that too.

K: Yeah, there is.

J: Ehh.

T: They definitely did this in Nishinari, right Kami?

K: Yeh, they did.

Kami: No, they didn't.

T: Haha

K: He's sure about that.

J: Yeh, he's certain.

T: He doesn't want to lose on this one.

J: But Kami, do you want to eat these pots made from Baumkuchen?

Kami: Well, yeh, to look at them, they look delicious.

J, T, K: Haha.

T: By the way Kami, how old were you when you first tried Baumkuchen?

Kami: I don't really want to tell you that.

J: Haha, its that much of a secret?

K: Maybe he doesn't remember?

J: Yeah, maybe.

Kami: But first, I want to try one of thier basic Baumkuchen.

J: Ah, more basic than this?

T:???6*

J: Ok, I got it. They do sell regular Baumkuchen too, so we'll get one of those for Kami, and we'll get one of the pot Baumkuchen for us.

T: Yeh, I'll eat that.

Kami: You still have to share it though.

J, K: Hahaha

J: So you do want to eat it?

Kami: Yeah, I do.

J: You do? You should have been honest from the start. Well, I learned something today...that there is no Baumkuchen in Nishinari.

T: No, there is, there is. Will he get mad at me? There definitely is.

J: There definitely is? Well, we got to learn a bit about Kami's history.

T: You can kinda tell he probably lives in the west.

K: Well, he has a Kansai accent.

J: Yeh, he definitely has a Kansai accent. But now we know specifically about Nishinari.

T: I get the feeling he was just lurking there, as opposed to living.

K: He does seem kinda low class.

T: Yeh, he does.

J: Like, the kinda guy you want to avoid if at all possible, haha.

K: Ok, so, is that it?

J: So, we'll have to go and buy this sometime. Within the year?

T: Lets go asap.

K: Well, if they have to be reserved, we'll make a reservation.

J: Oh, yeah. Well, Kami wants to try a piece too.

K: Will Kami come down to join us then?

Kami: I do want to eat it.

J: No, well, what should we do? How can we give you it, Kami?

T: Right?

J: Kami?

Kami: Yes?

J: Yes?

K: hahaha

J: He doesn't know how to answer that, haha. Clearly, haha. He obviously doesn't know what to say! You're in the sky, right, Kami?

Kami: Thats right.

J: Yeh, so how can we get the cake to you?

Kami: Yeh, Im not sure, how could we? haha

J, K, T: Hahaha

J: He is totally stuck with this unexpected question.

T: What should we do then?

K: How about we look forward to what happens at that time?

J: Certainly!

K: Haha. Ok, well, Lets finish here for this week. Please subscribe. Thank you very much.

*1,2,3,4,5,6 Couldn't make out, usually due to too much background laughing.

#dir en grey #the freedom of expression #tfoe #kaoru #薫 #baumkuchen

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monstaxscenario · 4 years ago

Text

𝔾𝕀𝕍𝔼 𝕀ℕ

❖ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪɪ

❖ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ ❖ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪ

Paring: Im Changkyun x Female Reader

Word Count: +3K

Synopsis: When you were a cub, your pack was hunted. Luckily you survived. Years later, you made a new pack, one that is different than most. Your pack was living normally as you all could. However, when the rare full moon came about, your pack is put in danger. A pack of seven comes to your aid, claiming to protect you. Within that pack, a certain male intrigues you. You feel something you’ve never felt before. You’re smitten but are quickly drawn back to reality. You remember that your time is running out, as well as your self-control. Your inner wolf has had enough and decides to make you choose; either you give in on the night of the rare moon or die.

~Admin Angie (๑>◡<๑)

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

You look at the pack in front of you. Seven werewolves stood there, baring their teeth. Four of them were different shades of brown, two of them have gray and brown fur, and the last one has black fur.

You assess the situation. Even with Jooheon here, your pack would still be outnumbered. You cautiously walk closer to Jooheon, even despite the protest growls coming from your pack. The pack in front of you watches your every step. You show no expression, maintaining a nonchalant persona. You couldn’t afford to show how nervous you felt.

Jooheon feels your presence and leans down to whisper in your ear. “That is the iKon pack.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You evaluate the wolves in front of you. The way their features are and the way their fur coats look informed you that they were all male. They were all around the same size, except for the one with the black fur. He was larger than the rest and was in the center of the pack. You made eye contact with him and knew that he was the alpha. He snarled at you, saliva dripping down his mouth. He barks and takes a step forward.

Chachi growls as she moves to be beside you, baring her teeth. “No,” you tell her, your eyes never leaving the alpha in front of you. “You know our rules.” You remind her, she huffs at your words. She begins to paw at the ground, ready to pounce. Your pack had rules when it came to fighting. 1. We do not initiate the fighting. 2. If the opponent strikes first or attempts to then, all paws on deck. 3. Never lose control. 4. Always be aware of where your pack members are.

“You can’t fight yet, you’re not fully healed,” you whisper to Jooheon. You knew that if he were to fight again, he’d end up with something worse than a bite. You then heard more growls come from behind you. Hazel and Phoebe were transformed and walked over to Jooheon’s left.

“Well, the five of you in werewolf form is not enough to take them,” Jooheon enunciated to you. You bit the inside of your cheeks at his statement. It was times like these in which you felt utterly useless. You hated yourself for not being able to help your members to your fullest potential.

“Four,” you mumble. Jooheon gives you a side glance, wondering what you were talking about.

Before he could ask, the iKon pack moved forward and then began to run towards you. You said nothing, while your pack got impatient. You waited for the exact moment until they were right where you wanted them to be. “NOW!” you yell.

Your pack runs forward with great speed. The iKon pack might have had a running head start, but your women were resilient. They were like a bow and arrow, quiet, precise, and deadly. The more tension that was built, the farther and stronger the attack.

You took a defensive stance as you saw the alpha come towards you. You remembered that Jooheon was next to you, if the alpha were to attack, he might be caught in the crossfire. Without any second guesses, you bolted to the right, running far away from Jooheon. Just like you thought, the alpha was going after you. Even running in your human form, you were almost as fast as a werewolf.

You took a glance behind you to view the state of your pack. Everyone was fighting someone. Your heart ached to know the potential injuries they could endure, especially when they were outnumbered. You knew that Chachi could take on at least two wolves at a time, but three would be pushing it. Jia and Phoebe each held against one wolf each. What worried you the most was the fact that Hazel was going against two wolves. She’s a newbie to the werewolf world, having her real nature hidden from her for sixteen years. She doesn’t have any experience in fighting, let alone against a werewolf.

You attempt to run back and help Hazel, but the alpha that’s chasing you blocks your way. A growl rumbles from your chest at his action. You turn to look behind one more time and see that Jooheon shifted and was helping Hazel with one of the wolves. You silently thank him and run into the forest. You knew this forest as if it were the back of your hand. This forest is like a playground for you. If you could lead the alpha further away from the groups, it would be an advantage for your pack. Luckily enough, he was keen on going after you and followed you deeper into the forest.

Twigs snapped, leaves were crunched as you ran to your destination. You have a plan, it might not be the best, however, it is worth a try. It would at least make his pack worry enough to come and aid him, in return leaving your pack alone. There was a distance of, what you could guess, seventy feet between you and him. That is enough distance for your plan to work.

You stared straight ahead until you saw what you were looking for. The rope line, hanging from the tree. You look behind and see that he is now fifty feet from you and getting closer. You reach out to grab the rope and wrap it around your wrist. You give it a rough tug and it activates the pulley system. You propel upwards into the trees, your body no longer on the ground. You effortlessly land on a thick tree branch and look down. The alpha is right where you were, snarling and looking for you.

You quietly and gracefully walk from tree branch to tree branch, ending up in a different tree. You reach into your pocket and pull out two rocks you picked up while running. You threw a rock to the area in which you had just been, alerting the alpha below and looking in the direction in which the sound came. You walk again to a different tree, having done this multiple times because of training. You hold onto the last rock, you immediately decide to take off your flannel and wrap it around the rock. You then throw it in the previous area you were at and at the same time move to a different tree.

With your shirt wrapped around the rock, it would give off your scent, thus making the alpha move towards the object. Like you predicted, he did, this made your plan go back on track. You observed how he sniffed the clothing and began to unwrap it. This was your chance, now or never. You knew that this part was beyond crazy, life-endangering. But damn not only did you need to do this, but you also had adrenaline coursing through every nerve.

You observe the distance between you and the ground and conclude to yourself that you’ve gone higher than this before. You take in a deep breath and fall. It was only a couple of seconds but you had calculated your trajectory and hit your target within that time.

You land straight on the alpha’s back, immediately wrapping your arms around his neck. His feet give right under him from the impact. He lets out a loud howl that could be heard beyond the forest. He rolls around the ground, trying to get you off, but your grip on him is like iron. Despite the numerous times, he squeezed the air out of your lungs when rolling on his back, you were relentless, never letting go. Once he got onto his legs, you readjust the placement of your arms and had him in a chokehold.

You had once done this to a human and a bear, at different times in your life, so you thought this could work on a werewolf. When you began to apply pressure to his carotid arteries, he immediately understood what you were doing and tried to whip you off of him. You knew that you shouldn’t have, but you found this situation amusing. You even let out a small chuckle. The fact that a male alpha was beginning to feel threatened by you, in your human form, was exhilarating. Most werewolves believed to be the strongest in their wolf forms, however, you always believed in brains over brawn.

In the distance you heard howls, but not from your pack. The alpha in your arms howls back, it was his. Your plan had worked and now it was time to conclude. Your grip tightened and he slowly began to stagger. Before he lost consciousness, in an attempt to have the last strike, he threw himself back. Slamming you against a wall of rock. Your head ricochets against the stone, making you lose your vision, the air in your lungs escapes you, leaving you breathless. You land on the ground with a thud. Although you couldn’t breathe and the pain was shooting through your back, you rolled away from the unconscious werewolf, creating distance.

The impact was stronger than you thought as your eyesight faded in and out. Catching glimpses of the iKon pack drawing closer and closer to you. At one point you felt a hot breath and a snarl in front of your face. You blink and see a brown wolf baring its teeth to you. You close your eyes and open them slowly. You see that he’s gone and you’re left confused. You then see a gray and brown wolf leap over you and attack the others. You blink again and see more wolves fighting off the iKon pack. You don’t count how many there are because of the immense headache that hits you.

You try to stay awake, however, each time you blink, your eyes take longer to open than the last. You don’t know how long you lay there, staring at the gray sky. You observe how the tree branches sway back and forth because of the wind. You find it lulling, as sleep calls to you demanding to close your eyes.

Your view of the tree branches is cut off by a man. A man with short dark hair, warm-colored skin, brown eyes, and heart-shaped lips. You wouldn’t dare say it aloud but, in your case, he’s a sight for sore eyes. He ways his hand across your face, your eyes slowly follow but not at his rate. He kneels next to you.

“Hi, I’m gonna need for you to stay awake for as long as you can. You received a blow to your head, strong enough to cause a concussion. We’ll get you to your pack as soon as possible.” He assures you. He goes to pick you up but you stop him.

“Who are you?” you utter out, trying to maintain eye contact with him. He smiles warmly at you. You never knew a man could look this kind and it threw you off.

“My name’s Shownu. I’m one of Jooheon’s pack members,” he introduces himself. “Also I’m the doctor of the pack. Do you think you can stand on your own?” he asks you. You take a moment to process his words. You then try and sit up, but the pain radiating from your back doesn't allow you to. You let out a grunt as you land back on the ground. Shownu nods his head, understanding.

“I’m going to carry you back to your pack, is that alright?” he asks for your permission. You think that it’s endearing how he asks you. You agree, your intuition saying he’s to trust. He slowly lifts you into his arms. It had been years since someone had carried you. A part of you felt ashamed, but right now you could only seek the warmth that his body gave. Between the walking motion and the warmth, your eyes began to close again, wanting nothing more than to welcome deep slumber. Shownu had other plans. “Hey, you have to stay awake for at least twelve hours,” he informed you. You let out a groan, understanding the procedure. He chuckles softly. “What’s your name?” he begins the conversation.

“(Y/N)” you tell him. He nods his head. “Are you here to protect my pack, as Jooheon said?” you question. If you were going to stay up for the next twelve to twenty-four hours, you were going to get many answers.

“Yes, and we’re going to protect you as well, not just your pack,” he answers, taking glances down at you to make sure your eyes were open. You hum.

“Why?” you ask, wanting to know the reason why a pack of wolves would want to help a pack like yours, especially now of all years. You see Shownu bite his lower lip, contemplating.

“I can’t tell you that,” he admits. He looks down to see your face in a scowl. “But my leader can. He’s the one with all the answers,” he reassures you. “You’ll meet him soon after we get you checked upon. Okay?” you nod your head in agreement.

From a distance, you hear Phoebe scream your name. You then hear rushed footsteps coming closer to you. Too many voices and too many questions bombard you all at once. None of which make sense to you. You hear Jia yell loudly for the questions to stop. She asks what happened and Shownu explains what he had seen and what your diagnosis was. Jia and the rest of your pack let Shownu bring you into the house. He settles you down on the couch, sitting upright with the help of the pillows. Jia instructs everyone to get her everything she needs.

She begins to evaluate you from your toes to your head. She gently applies pressure around your head, when she reaches the back of your head you let out a hiss of pain. She draws her hand away, instinctively not wanting to hurt you further. Upon looking at her hand, she notices blood. She curses under her breath and goes around to check the back of your head. Her face scrunches up in pain, looking at your wound.

“You received a nasty blow to the head, especially around your occipital lobe. Your body started healing it, but it’s not fast enough.” she places a clean rag behind your head and applies pressure to it. You cringe at the hard pressure she applies, more so to remind you of your actions that lead to where you are now. “Can you explain to me how you ended up like this?” She asks, a stern tone in her voice as she looks at you in the eyes.

You’re lucky that you’re able to remember what happened before and after. You sigh as you began to tell her everything that occurred. Each one of your members listens attentively. As you go through the story, each member holds a different expression. Phoebe looks at you horrified. Hazel looks surprised. Jia scolds you with her eyes and Chachi praises you.

“Oh my god, hell fuckin yes (Y/N)!” Chachi exclaims. “That’s what I call badass.” she pats your shoulder, without thinking. Resulting in you groaning in pain. Chachi steps back, hands in the air as she apologizes. “Whoops, sorry.”

Jia pinches your nose to gain your attention, her eyes holding anger within them. “Seriously (Y/N)? You could have died! We are trying to avoid that, remember?” She scolds you, but you can’t concentrate completely. You blame it on the concussion.

“They wouldn’t have let her die, rather they would have taken her and done whatever they’d want with her.” A deep voice says from across the room. You look to find the owner of the voice. Another man pushes himself from leaning on the wall to walk towards you. You observe his features. He has short light brown hair, dark brown eyes, bow-shaped lips, and a sharp nose. You swore you could have seen him from somewhere. Vague images like deja vu arose but they didn’t make sense.

Taking yourself out of your thoughts, you look around the living room and now take notice of the additional seven people standing around. The only ones you know the names of are Jooheon and Shownu. “Who are you?” you ask, feeling yourself become protective of your pack.

The man from before walks over and squats in front of you. Boldly, he stares into your eyes. “My name is Changkyun. I am the alpha of my pack.” You stare at each other for what feels like hours, but in reality, it's only a couple of seconds. “The ones next to Jooheon are Hyungwon and Kihyun. The two in-between Shownu are Wonho and Minhyuk.”

“Why are you here to protect us and what do you all get out of it?” you question, wanting to finally know why seven males are in your home. You didn’t need to worry about this when you have something much larger to worry about.

Changkyun chuckles, amused by your direct questions. “It’s a lot of information to process. Why don’t we wait until you’re fully healed to talk about it.” He gives you a smile and a soft pat on your knee before standing up.

You couldn't explain it, but you felt a small feeling rumble deep within you when you made eye contact. Although it was only a soft pat on your knee, you somehow yearned for more contact from him, specifically from him. You’ve only just met this man, a few minutes ago. You know nothing about him and yet you had this small yearning. This made you feel weird, scared even. You’ve never experienced anything like this. A part of you wants to figure out what’s causing this feeling, but the other part of you wants to avoid it completely.

“In the meantime, we can finally eat. You are more than welcome to join us,” Phoebe said, bringing you out of your thoughts. You look at her in confusion. ‘We’re just going to let them stay?’ She catches your look and nods her head to confirm your question. “You can follow me if you wish to the kitchen.” Phoebe makes her way to the kitchen with eight people following after her, leaving you, Hazel, Changkyun, and Shownu in the room.

While Changkyun and Shownu are talking to one another, you look at Hazel. She comes to sit next to you on the couch. You begin to whisper to her in the lowest tone possible. “Can we even trust them?”

She takes a few seconds to respond, but she smiles at you. A smile that reaches to her eyes and she looks at you with determination and hope in them. “We can do more than trust them. I saw a premonition with you in it. I believe that if we let them stay, they will help you (Y/N).”

What Hazel didn't mention, was that in her premonition, the alpha is the key. He is the one to help you give in on the full moon.

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

A/N: Forgive me for the long overdue post!! I didn’t realize it had been that long! (T_T)

ᴛᴀɢɢᴇᴅ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ: @kpop-choco @skittlez-area512

#monsta x #monsta x scenarios #monsta x imagines #i.m scenario #i.m imagine #changkyun scenario #changkyun imagine #monsta x werewolf!au #werewolf au

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halo-jpeg · 4 years ago

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Bearable | A Reddie Fanfiction

Read it from the beginning

Chapter 1

"Bill, why? Why would you say yes to that party? We don't know him! What if he's some serial killer? What if he tries to get us to do drugs? What if he kills us or lives in a dumpster or something?" Eddie is erratic, his drink still in his hand. They were hardly off the block of the little cafe known as Portland Authentic. Eddie hadn't been too fond of the guy behind the counter, mostly because he had written 'Eds' on his coffee cup. "I mean- we only just got to Portland and you're already going to get us killed or something!"

"Eddie, it'll be fine," Stan is the one to cut in with reassurance, taking a sip from his own cup and somehow not flinching at the taste of the straight caffeine, "Yeah, he was a little energetic but he didn't seem malicious. I think it'll be a good opportunity to get to know some new people." Eddie opened his mouth to speak, but Bill beat him to it, and no one had the disrespect to talk over Bill. That was just... off limits, so Eddie shut his mouth again and tried not to grimace.

"Buh-buh-besides," He started, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other soaking up the warmth of his cinnamon cappuccino, "It'll be guh-good to get out and see what kind of people Portland has to offer." With that, the discussion was closed, and Eddie let it drop with just a sigh, trying to shake away the lingering annoyance clinging to his mind. There were too many good things about Portland to worry about the bad things- in just a few days he would be working towards his dream as a doctor- he had always wanted to be a doctor. When he was younger, he had wanted his career to be within the health arena for the sake of reassuring his mother that he could take care of himself without being stuck behind a desk- now, though, he wanted to become a doctor to prove his mother wrong, to learn all sorts of things that would help him confirm that he wasn't sick, and had never been sick like Sonia Kaspbrak had said he was.

The rest of the walk back home was near silent, consisting of craned necks and obvious gawking- Portland really was gorgeous, and so different from Derry. Rather than the tiny, modest homes Eddie and his friends grew up knowing, almost everything in the downtown area was some form of 19th century architecture or something alike- each building consisted of warm tones, arched windows, grand streetlamps with pots of colourful flowers. Eddie can't even imagine what it must look like in the daylight.

"Oh, here's my work," Stan said, seeming not to have realized what street they were wandering down. The three halted outside of a small flower shop, Roses on Deane, and approached the large, open windows in the front. The lights were out inside, obviously, but it was still possible to make out the shapes of many many bouquets. Stan had managed to score a job a few months back thanks to a cousin who had a friend who owned the place, and though Stan never considered himself a huge fan of flowers, Eddie could see how the place would fit him. At least one of them had a job- Eddie shudders to think that there is yet another huge thing he needs to get done this weekend. If he doesn't have a job by next weekend then he won't be able to pitch in to help with rent. Bill, who had been working at the library back home, had been transferred here too, so he was also getting payed bi-weekly. Eddie was alone in his unemployment, but that was okay. He was smart, and efficient, and he would get a job sooner or later somewhere.

"When do you start?" He asked, finally bringing his rapidly-cooling drink up to his lips. He braced himself for a horrid taste, taking a slow, tentative sip, and almost letting a sound of approval slip past his lips. It didn't... It didn't taste horrible. Peppermint was okay, in his opinion, and it balanced out the bitterness of the coffee just right.

"Tuesday at 5:00," Stan took one last glance through the window, smiling serenely and turning to continue on to their new apartment. Again, the three fell into silence, calm and comfortable. They walked another three blocks before spotting their building, and Bill was the one to pull out an access card to scan at the door. Their bags were already up in their house, and Eddie had even made a few comments on how he appreciated the security. Electronic locks were unheard of to Eddie until today, and he was pleased. Now, he was too exhausted to be pleased. His coffee had him buzzing, and he would force himself to stay awake until his suitcase was unpacked, but he couldn't wait to curl up in his new bed, away from his hometown for the first time in years.

"We'll have to go grocery shopping tuh-tomorrow," Bill hummed half to himself as he stepped into the elevator, clicking the button labeled with a '2'. "We won't have any fuh-fuh-food. I'll buy us breakfast in the morning."

"Thanks, Bill," Stan smiles, "We can make a meal plan, budget things out. Just to make sure we can always make rent." Eddie nodded along, and took another long sip of the minty-bitter drink in his hand.

"We should go look at the campus. I want to find out where my classes are, maybe." Eddie found himself rocking back and forth on his heels, watching the little glowing number above the elevator buttons blink from 'G' to '1' to, at last, '2'. With a ding, the doors slid open, and a dim hallway was presented to them, the lights on low now that it was just about 10:00 pm.

"I want to go see Back Cove Park at some point. The bird watching is great. They have egrets sometimes, and other birds I haven't seen yet. I always go there when I visit- it's like tradition." Stifling a yawn (not because of the bird talk- Eddie was just tired) Eddie nodded his head. In all honesty, a nature walk sounded nice. Already, he was missing the Barrens, the poor dam he remembers building with Bill ages and ages ago. "It's right on the water, so we can go fishing too, or swimming if you guys wanted to. It isn't always as warm as it is tonight, and it's only getting colder, but..." Stan shrugs. They arrive at their apartment door, number 29, and yet again Bill is the one to pull out his key and stick it into the lock, giving it a twist and pushing the door wide open. Eddie steps inside first, flicking on the light and taking in the sight of his new apartment.

The door opened up into a short hallway. To his direct right there was a door leading to a small closet. A little ways ahead, the hallway broke both left and right, the left way leading to the kitchen and living room along with the doors to the balcony and Bill's room- in turn, the right way led to the main bathroom and the two other bedrooms reserved for Eddie and Stan.

"Wuh-well, I guess this is goodnight," Bill says, shutting the door behind him and kicking off his shoes, "We all have a l-lot of unpacking to do, I'm sh-sure." Both Stan and Eddie nod in near-perfect unison.

"Goodnight, you guys. Enjoy your first sleep in our new house." Stan speaks with a grin, staring at both Eddie and Bill with that intense hazel gaze that seems to communicate the intense reality of the situation. The three men had made it out of their childhood town, and now they were living on their own. They really weren't children anymore. Along with that look in Stan's eyes came a heavy feeling of bittersweetness- Derry was gone, now, and with it, Eddie's childhood. He smiled at his two best friends, and then turned down the hallway to greet his room.

-----

"Alright, that's everything," Ben says as the doors to the cafe swing shut and he locks them tight.

"Another job well done, boy! Another fantastic job, I'd say!" Richie throws one arm over Ben's shoulders, and then the other pulls in Bev by the arm. Crushing his two buddies in a double side-hug, he speaks in his almost-perfected MovieTone Newsreel Announcer Voice, disturbing the silence of the dark Portland streets, "You're both quite the caffeine-mixin' maestros, eh? You'll do great things for this world, great things!"

"Beep-beep, Richie. I'm exhausted." Beverly was smiling, sure, but Richie really could tell that she was done with today. He let both she and Ben go, toning down his behavior and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, offering one to each along with his lighter. Ben declined as politely as possible, so Richie and Bev were left to smoke without him.

"You'll get those beers for me, won't you?" Richie asks, taking a drag and relishing in the way the smoke filled his lungs. He should probably quit sooner or later, huh? Maybe one day. "I've got the cash back home. I'll give it to you and you can just go buy whatever you want. Party booze of your choice." Ben let out a chuckle, waving a hand in front of his face to show his dislike of the cigarette smoke. Richie mumbled something akin to an apology.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get it. And don't worry about paying me back, I'll be drinking it too." Richie beamed. With a light punch to the shoulder, he turned his attention to Bev, ready to play a little bit of Cupid.

"You're coming too, right Bevvie?" He asked the question as if it were nothing, oh-so subtly bumping Ben with his elbow. Beverly shrugged.

"Probably. It's basically a sin to miss out on an infamous Tozier party, isn't it?" She placed the cigarette against her lips, and puffed out smoke right after. "What else is happening other than drinking too much and getting the Police called on us for being too loud?" Richie couldn't help but snicker at that. The Police had, on numerous occasions, been called on him for playing his music at ungodly levels, but, I mean, come on, he has fantastic taste and the world needs to know it.

"Who knows, maybe some pin the tail on the donkey? Musical chairs?" Ben and Beverly both let out a snort, the redhead spinning to face Richie with suddenly bright eyes.

"Please," She said with a wide, bright smile, "I would pay to see you get annihilated by Ben."

"Excuse me, Miss Marsh, but I pride myself on being a musical chairs master! I was unbeatable in my fifth grade class!" Placing a feign-offended hand on his chest, Richie guffawed, upturning his nose in mock disgust. Beverly was laughing now, a light and cheery sound almost like the jingling of the bell in the cafe but a little less annoying. The bell also didn't make Ben's face light up, and he didn't want to hear the bell forever.

"Probably because you were built like string cheese, Richie- No offense, of course." Beverly only laughed harder at Ben's quip, and yeah, Richie admits that it was pretty good and about 99% true.

"The best damn string cheese you've ever tasted, Haystack," Richie shot his friend a wink, lifting one foot and crushing his cigarette out on the sole of his shoe, "Now, my dearests, I must depart- nice work we did today, you two!" Richie flicked the butt away, speaking over his shoulder as he set off in the direction of home. "I'll see you both at my party!" He spins on his heel, waving Ben and Bev off with one last peace sign before continuing on into the darkness. Richie hummed a little tune to himself, a pep in his step despite his light tiredness. Oh, how he wanted to get home- the idea of cracking open a soda and sitting in front of the TV sounded pretty damn great right about now. For a Friday night the world was surprisingly quiet- the same wouldn't be said about tomorrow. Toziers were born to party. Richie's dad had thrown some ragers in his teenage days, and so had his mom- now, it was his turn to take on the family name and keep that legacy going. Other than beer he probably needed some snacks, chips or cookies or as Ben had so wonderfully suggested string cheese because who doesn't like string cheese? He made a mental note to go grocery shopping tomorrow and hoped that he didn't forget it.

Richie's apartment came into view, a pretty little six floor building made of a nice red brick. He lived on the top floor and his neighbors probably hated him for reasons that should be obvious enough but he'd yet to be kicked out which meant he still had some boundaries to push. He'd been brewing up a new party playlist for a few days now and he made yet another mental note to throw on 'Dancing Queen'. Richie's humming transformed into whistling as he pulled open the door to his building, waving to the late-night receptionist, a kind young lady who hated his guts and probably thought he was flirting with her all the time when he really didn't even swing that way.

"Good evening, m'lady," He said with a goofy, lopsided grin, earning a scowl over the top of a home-deco magazine, "Quite the swell night it is," He didn't linger long, pressing the call button for the elevator and stepping inside. He tapped '6' and waited, his spirits high, excited for tomorrow. He liked getting ready for parties. He liked the decorations he always put up, the arrangement of the snacks that he put too much thought into, and the anticipation of being the host because that always meant most eyes were on him. Up up up the elevator went, and let out a happy little ding as the doors peeled back open and he went right to his door. Richie pulled out his keys, jamming them into the doorknob and pushing the door open to reveal the space inside. "Honey, I'm home!" He called out the words, arms out at his side in a motion of grandeur. Of course, there was no response, and he kicked the door shut with his heel. Richie tossed his keys onto the little table by the door, toeing off each shoe in turn and leaving them discarded in the middle of the entryway.

"Hey there, babes," His first stop was the fish tank on the kitchen counter, packed with swimming little neon tetra and angelfish and Richie's prized bala shark he named Bella- creative, he knows- to sprinkle in some food. The little jar was just beside the aquarium, and he popped off the lid, shaking it above the open water and watching his little pals swim forth for their dinner. With his lasting grin, Richie let out a chuckle, his heart swelling at the sight of his aquatic children as he set the food back on the counter and took a step away. His own stomach let out a growl, and he realized for the first time that he hasn't eaten since after his last class, way back at 3:00. Popping open his fridge, Richie scanned it's contents- yep, he really needed to go get food tomorrow. There was next to nothing. He settled half-reluctantly on some month-old instant ramen and cooked it up with ease. Richie hadn't had instant ramen in ages, but there was a good amount of nostalgia contained within the simple dish. It had carried him through high school one plastic cup at a time, helping him fight through long nights of studying and even a nasty breakup.

The microwave let out three beeps, calling out 'Hey! I'm done, come eat me!' with each and every one. Richie ate it as he hastily cleaned up the kitchen, throwing dishes in the dishwasher and even taking the time to watch a casserole dish by hand, putting on his playlist but keeping the speakers on a low volume for the sake of his neighbors. No more than 15 minutes passed and then he was done, finally allowing himself to do what he's been anticipating all day. With a Pepsi in hand, he made the couch his home, curling up in a knitted blanket and tuning into 'Friends'. As he watched, one eye always on the TV, he snatched the black nail polish from it's spot on the coffee table and began to paint it over the chipped remnants of what was already there. At some point, after they'd dried, he ended up falling asleep on the sofa.

#Richie Tozier #Eddie Kaspbrak #reddie #it movie #it #it 2017 #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2 #it 2019 #gay clown movie #bill denbrough #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #stan uris #stanley uris #stenbrough #benverly #reddie fanfiction

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