#to sacrifice time spent all together in order to get this final project together | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkcircles4lyfe · 3 years ago

Text

retrospective & predictions

Since we're on a hiatus week (between 320 and 321) I feel like waxing poetic about the depth and growth of bkdk for a bit. Especially because it seems like we’re right on the edge of their biggest development yet, I’m getting the urge to lay all my perspectives and insights I’ve picked up from others out on the table. This is ultimately only my subjective interpretation of subtextual material in canon, though. If you’ve never quite understood what people see in their dynamic and you’re actually open to hearing me out, maybe from this you can at least see where we’re coming from. And if you don’t like my takes after all, well, we’ll see who’s right in the coming chapters, won’t we? What I have to say can be taken platonically or romantically; I appreciate both.

putting it under the cut, since it’ll be long:

At the risk of projecting, I want to start by examining a couple things based partly on personal experience.

From many different directions, I often hear people expressing that Deku’s persistent attachment and admiration for Bakugou is baffling at best. Despite the bullying, despite Bakugou’s loud, rude, and uncompromising personality, he still puts effort into their relationship and frequently describes him as amazing. It seems like Deku himself is aware of this as he’s said things along the lines of how he’s difficult, BUT... etc. Although I don’t think it’s exactly that Deku finds Bakugou’s personality hard to be around, but that he’s deliberately expressing patience for Bakugou’s emotional turmoil.

I have to say I know what this sort of patience is like, as I went through it with someone I love. I only chose to put up with their behavior because I decided the possibility of what our relationship could be was worth it. I wasn’t blind or submissive to how they treated me, and I wasn’t coerced. I simply expressed myself and established my boundaries while still allowing them the opportunity to join me in my world once they got over their own hangups. And guess what? It worked out in the end. That doesn’t mean there aren’t circumstances where it’s better to cut ties, but I want to stress that true reconciliation is possible sometimes. I used to worry that other people around me thought I was delusional for seeking it, but what really helped was my therapist reminding me that I’m smart and strong. So I think Deku deserves to feel the same. In a way this is his whole mission in life, his approach to being a hero as well as his personal relationships.

Let me also be clear though that I don’t mean Deku is only tolerating Bakugou’s personality, his mannerisms, the parts of him that will likely never change. I’m drawing a line between those things and his emotional state (they so rarely align anyway, but I’ll get to that later). In fact, I think Bakugou’s general attitude is part of what Deku admires. This is gonna be hard to explain without inserting personal experience too, sorry. As a writer myself I’ve noticed I’m drawn to writing characters that are brazen and bold and don't mind telling people off. Really it’s because I operate in the world in the polar opposite way. I try not to draw attention to myself, I’m quiet, and I’m a people-pleaser. People who project confidence, especially in an impolite sort of way, fascinate me. It’s good to take cultural context into account, too: I've heard people who’d know better than me that part of the reason Bakugou is the most popular character in the Japanese fandom is likely because he contradicts a lot of their social norms. His disregard is refreshing and cathartic. I can speculate that Deku has a similar point of view based on what he thinks but does not admit about Bakugou being his image of victory and how this sometimes makes him mimic Bakugou’s speech and mannerisms:

There’s also the bit in this fight where Deku realizes he's the only one able to receive Bakugou’s emotions. This is because he’s the most intimately familiar with him and his situation, but I think there’s another layer. Deku, as we know, has a self-sacrificing tendency, and in the current chapters we’re seeing the worst side of that. But let’s also not forget that to an extent, it can be a positive trait: resilience. When it comes to Bakugou, he has an almost comical ability to dodge the potential fallout of his outbursts. The example we all jump to (and fight about..) is how in ch1, apart from the initial shock of Bakugou suggesting he jump off the roof, the most he reacts is to criticize him for saying such a ridiculous thing. However, I think their interaction post- sludge villain is a lot more interesting:

Note two things: 1, in his head, Deku is practically making fun of how Bakugou’s acting as he stomps away without waiting for a reply. It doesn’t faze him. 2, Deku thinks, optimistically, that he can now focus on a different career choice. This is astonishing really. Up to this point, none of Bakugou’s attempts to put him down have worked; he just kept pursuing his dream. The only reason Deku concedes in this moment it because for the first time, he has been shown that he really couldn't do anything in a fight against a villain. All Might told him he couldn't be a hero (although he’s literally about to take that back in the next few pages lol) and the other heroes at the scene gave him a lecture about it too. It was those experiences, and not Bakugou’s words, that truly affected him. And when All Might tells Deku he can be a hero after all, it’s not thinking of Bakugou’s bullying that makes him sob and fall to his knees, it’s the memory of his own mom never telling him those words he so desperately needed to hear. Having spent most of their lives together, Deku must have been aware all this time that Baukgou was influenced by larger societal forces rather than a core judgement, so he didn’t take it personally. He separated the person from the action, and because he’s resilient and patient, he is thus equipped to handle Bakugou’s emotions. It’s a testament to his maturity and emotional intelligence, really.

But I can almost hear some of you saying, “that doesn’t mean Deku should have to be the bigger person here!” Correct! Just because Deku is perfectly alright bearing all of that, doesn’t mean atonement-era Bakugou sees it this way. We can track his awareness of Deku’s care and selflessness as follows-

The bridge scene, when they’re little kids: Bakugou conflates Deku’s heroism with pity, and subsequently thinks Deku is looking down on him because Bakugou’s own insecurity makes him defensive.

The Sludge Villain, and also Deku vs. Kacchan Part 1: Bakugou witnesses first-hand how easily Deku jumps to risk his own life, but still thinks he’s being looked down on.

The Sports Festival: Bakugou fights Uraraka and recognizes her endurance strategy and refusal to give up as very Deku-like. He’s half right. He thinks Deku advised her in the fight, when in reality she just mimicked Deku because she admired him. I want to draw attention to his very sober comment about her not being frail. It’s a great endearment of Uraraka’s character and Bakugou’s respect for her when others didn’t take “fighting a girl” seriously, but it also reflects on his opinion of Deku. Deku isn’t weak either. He never was.

Deku vs. Kacchan Part 2: Deku finally corrects him about the whole looking-down-on-him thing, and Bakugou is informed that Deku’s selflessness is in fact the reason All Might chose him. Since Bakugou had been in search of what he himself was “doing wrong” for All Might to favor Deku over him, he now has to reconcile the fact that selflessness is a heroic trait, and moreover something he lacks. This is also possibly the first time Bakugou is able to see his past actions toward Deku as bullying since he previously thought it was more mutual. Additionally, Bakugou can now link Deku’s selfless behavior to what he perceived as pity/contempt, and realize that Deku has been giving him A LOT of grace. Maybe too much. Maybe more than Bakugou deserves, and definitely more than Deku should have to. Holy heck- now Bakugou has to figure out how to live up to all the faith that’s been placed in him.

Subtextually, we can see Bakugou’s feelings about atonement reflected in the Todoroki family:

1, Shouto is another example of Deku growing a friendship using his selflessness (since their fight in the sports festival) and their relationship is being acknowledged here where it hasn’t been in Bakugou’s situation. Perhaps Bakugou is wishing it could be so simple for him, to be able to thank him for being his friend like that. Deku saying the pleasure is all his also probably calls to mind how a mere apology from Bakugou would probably be dismissed because that’s just the kind of accommodating person Deku is. Bakugou has to operate more quietly in order to actually make up for their past. I personally don’t interpret this scene as Bakugou being jealous of Deku and Shouto’s friendship, exactly, just the lack of emotional baggage. Side note, Deku and Fuyumi are kinda similar in their desire to repair relationships. I like that she’s the one to give him some credit.

2, With the common terminology, this can be interpreted as Bakugou receiving a model for atonement, one that is about action, and nothing to do with receiving favor or forgiveness. It’s a sense of duty.

Many of the above sentiments are repeated in the flashback conversation between All Might and Bakugou right before Bakugou’s sacrifice.

Bakugou acknowledges his bullying and that it happened because of his own insecurities, but aside from that, it’s interesting he neither confirms nor denies All Might’s suggestion that he’s trying to atone, or that Deku doesn’t see it that way. All Might is a bit of an unreliable mentor sometimes, but I don’t think he’s misreading here. Rather, Bakugou is displaying his tendency to hold back when talking about things that would make him really emotional. Besides, admitting to what he’s doing kind of defeats the purpose. He isn’t seeking acknowledgement. All Might has gotten to the crux of the issue here when pointing out that Deku doesn’t recognize the atonement, likely because Deku doesn't think Bakugou even needs to atone. Am I reading into it too much to say Bakugou looks wistful at this? It’s kinda frustrating sometimes trying to interpret Bakugou’s actions because he’s so paradoxical. Loud and in your face, but also extremely reserved. Sometimes I feel like I’m grasping at thin air, but hey, being hard to figure out is part of his intrigue as a character. The simplest way to look at him is to assume that unless he’s really showing vulnerability, he’s probably deflecting and hiding something.

Speaking of Bakugou’s tendency to to hold back emotional stuff, there’s his apparent lack of issue with Deku calling him Kacchan. Maybe to begin with, in his warped perception of things where he thought they hated each other, Bakugou saw it as Deku’s way of getting back at him for calling him “useless,” and didn't dare give any indication that it actually bothered him. However... consider how betrayed Bakugou has appeared when he was noticeably thinking Deku was looking down on him- the bridge scene, and the beginning of their first year at UA when he thought Deku was hiding a quirk all along. He looks shocked and hurt. That kind of emotion couldn’t be invoked by someone Bakugou didn’t actually care about his relationship with. “Kacchan” comes from a long time ago, before their relationship was strained, so it’s connotations are pure. Maybe somewhere deep down, Bakugou has always been hoping that Deku’s continued use of the nickname was not simply a matter of habit or teasing, but a vestige of friendship they’re both clinging to, and Bakugou himself was too afraid to admit to himself that he felt this way about it, so he mostly ignored it. (These are not original thoughts I am having here lol, this is a common interpretation. I’m just laying everything out like I said.)

And now we turn to the current situation. Personally, I’ve been looking frantically back and forth between them wondering who’s going to break down first (Deku vs. Kacchan Part 3, this time it’s just a fight to get the other person to cry? ha.) Both have looked like they’re approaching a breaking point for some time. Also, I’ve addressed this before, but I think it’s significant that Bakugou is no longer wearing his mask with his hero costume, in contrast to Deku recently donning his own. It feels symbolic of Bakugou about to be upfront about how he feels.

The question is, what is it going to take to get Deku to accept help? If you ask me, Deku has dug himself so deeply into the I’m-doing-this-for-everyone-else’s-safety-and-smiles hole, no common sense argument can possibly reach him. By the end of 320, Deku’s mask is off, and we can see how desperate he truly is. But he has not cried, yet. I predict we’re going to see a bit more of his defiance, this time on full display on his face as the remaining class members and his other friends take their turns. But then I think Bakugou has to be the one to break down so Deku can witness his actions having the opposite effect he intended. People have been pointing out that Deku is currently ignoring Bakugou, and oof, that’s gotta be intentional. Regardless of what Bakugou says, it’s going to be wrapped up not only in his understanding of Deku’s self-sacrifice, but also the betrayal Bakugou feels at being ignored/left behind that ironically echoes his previous perception of being looked down on, as well as a need to express how much he cares about Deku before it’s too late. He must show that the two of them are inseparable because they both act to save each other without thinking, and both feel like losing the other would be like dying themselves. All Might may have been right when he told them they could learn from each other after Deku vs. Kacchan Part 2, but he didn’t fully realize that idea by making sure they stuck by each other for support and balance.

I can’t wait to see what it’ll be like when they do finally get to that point, totally in synch and in tune with each other. They’ll be a powerful force no one is quite prepared for. Who knows when that will be, or even which chapter will be their big showdown, but I know the day is coming.

To speculate even further, I think the 2nd user is going to be really important really soon. And no I don’t mean to suggest that the 2nd user is Bakugou. But I do think their resemblance is key. Okay this is gonna be convoluted...

See how 2nd is the only one still standing? I think that’s symbolic of him withholding his quirk. Deku may not even know what it is at this point, let alone have unlocked it. Given that 2nd approves of Deku’s strategy at this point, it seems odd for him to withhold his quirk based on lack of faith. I think if his quirk was something that would help Deku in combat, he would have shown it to him already like the others did. So what if those gauntlets of his are support items that are meant to make up for his lack of a combat-oriented quirk, rather than to augment it? Mind you, I still have no idea what his mysterious power might be, but I’m dead set on it not being explosion-y. Regardless, I think 2nd looking like Bakugou is more about aiding some grand visual parallel, so! You know how 2nd and 3rd were probably intending to do away with Yoichi but 2nd changed his mind as soon as they made eye contact? This is really a long shot, but I wonder if 2nd’s quirk has something to do with that exchange. Maybe it’s something psychological, or some 6th sense about people he meets. So... in that way 2nd’s quirk could play a role in bkdk reaching a deeper understanding? Idk! But it could be significant at least that 2nd left Yoichi’s question about why he reached out to him unanswered.

One more thing- while I was gathering screenshots I found this. I think “you’re the last one I’m telling” might be foreshadowing for Bakugou revealing his hero name to Deku and it being a Big Deal:

As for other lingering threads in the overall plot right now, such as the UA traitor, Stain, whatever Tsuyu is apparently about to do, All Might’s car maybe in the background of the last page of 320... man I have no idea. All I know is there’s literally 320 chapters’ worth of build-up to this confrontation that can’t be interrupted.

See you next week <3

#phew that was a lot #I just wanted to show how things are aligning #I know a lot of this has been said #bnha manga spoilers #bnha 320 #bnha 321 #mha #bakudeku #bkdk #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bnha meta #lin speaks

93 notes · View notes

notwhelmedyet · 1 year ago

Text

Part IV: I Finished the Typesets While You Weren't Looking

As you could probably guess from the absence of updates for several months, I steamed on ahead without updating y'all 😅

Let's cover the important details I might want to remember later:

General approach: I used the same workflow I usually do (set up as much as possible in the HTML source document prior to importing to Scribus), with the difference that this time I split out each chapter. That allowed me to easily place my header image and initial capital in the same place in each chapter and also stopped Scribus from blowing up when I imported multiple 50 mb images.

I initially pulled the text in september, edited, flopped about being anxious about asking for permission and then reached out to Ealcynn...only to learn she'd made a complete edit pass a week after I pulled the text. I then went back and merged her edits for her gift copy. Whoops! this is why you should ask before getting neck-deep in a project.

I discovered a bug in Scribus while typesetting this - hyphenation exception lists from Document Setup don't persist across edit sessions. I put in a bug ticket and it's apparently fixed in future versions. But I figured out a workaround in the meantime - you can set universal hyphenation exception lists via Scribus->Preferences and that works fine. This saved me from manually unhyphenating lots of elvish names when I did my final pass.

About 80% of my typesetting time (minimum) was spent on that final pass, where I remove hyphenation that shouldn't be there (ends of paragraphs, ends of pages, names I forgot to put on my exception list) and adjust word spacing & max/min glyph extension to remove widows and orphans wherever possible. Sometimes there are too many 3 line paragraphs in a row and there's just nothing you can do, but I managed to remove almost all of them around page turns. A few had to be left across spreads in order to make that happen, but it was a necessary sacrifice.

Some people just use the default "keep paragraph together" options in their typesetting program. Those people are very sensible. But consider: I hate the way it looks when the pages don't all end on the same line. Isn't it worth nine or ten hours of a little typesetting to avoid those uneven lines?

Extra Decorative headers: Given how ornamented the chapter titles were, I wanted my colophon, author's notes, copyright page and title page to also be pretty. But the extra ornaments I could find in the source book weren't a very good fit for the shapes I needed. I looked around a little at other nouveau books, but couldn't find what I wanted. Eventually I decided to do exactly what I swore I wouldn't do at the beginning of this project: juxtapose my amateur art skills next to alphonse mucha's masterpieces. whoops.

As inspiration, I turned to the vellucent bindings published by Cedric Chivers. I decided to add a beech leaf element, to tie in with my planned cover art & the floral motifs of the chapter titles. While I won't pretend I'm 100% happy with these (they feel so awkward and untidy compared to the mucha art), they fulfill the necessary functions and I have other projects to work on someday - if I stretched this project out till I felt like my art could stand shoulder to shoulder with Mucha's we'd be here my whole life.

I settled on a computer heavy workflow for these. First I sketched a design based on the Chivers bindings. Then I scanned that sketch, adjusted it where necessary in GIMP and then mirrored the image. I printed the revised sketch and taped a piece of tracing paper over it, which I then inked using a dip pen. I was very happy with the discovery you can get good results inking on tracing paper, it saves for so much time with the lightbox.

Of course, then I decided I wanted to do the titles pages in color, and had to use the lightbox anyway. I was very happy with how those turned out though - I got to play with my thickened watercolors as inks and it is so much fun making color transitions. I landed on a early fall/late fall motif for the two volumes by coloring the design in greens/yellows for ATWW and reds/browns for DR.

The Colophon: Originally I designed a fun archway shaped colophon for the books, but as I kept going I realized I wanted to include more information in there than I could reasonably fit on one page...so for the first time I've split out the copyright page at the front, describing where the fic was first published and how I came to bind it, and the colophon at the back, describing my font choices, binding style etc. I wanted to play with a shaped colophon and do a circle, but it is very hard to make a typeset circle look actually circular...so I went ahead and added a frame.

....and yes, now that I'm looking at it (with the damn thing already printed out and sewn into two books) I see that the divider managed to cut off the tails of some of the letters 🤦 luckily there's still time to fix Ealcynn's copies, this is exactly why I'm doing mine first.

Layers: The other thing I'm doing differently in this fic versus any other I've bound is attempting to print on both a color and laser printer for the same pages. Logistically this is a bit of a mess, but I want my colored frames in color and the text looks much better printed by the laserjet. In order to make that happen, I had to export two versions of each document - one with only the text and one with only the colored headers/drop caps. Thank heavens, I discovered Scribus has layers that allow you to do exactly that.

I set each header image in the background layer and made two additional layers - text for my black/white elements and initials for the drop caps. By toggling which layers were visible and exported for printing I can easily export only the colored or only the black and white parts of the book.

typesetting 'A Fire Shall Be Woken'

So I've been nibbling away at this project in secret for a month but I finally reached out to the author Ealcynn (who I don't believe has a tumblr?) and got the go-ahead to post updates so! here we go!!

Over the past year I have fallen absolutely in love with a LoTR AU fic series called A Fire Shall Be Woken, which is essentially a "for want of a nail" AU where Legolas was exiled from Mirkwood and has never met Aragorn. It is very well written and intricately detailed and it makes me cry every time I read it & after reread #3 I decided I should probably bind a copy.

Around that same time I discovered Cloches de Noël et de Pâques, a french book from 1900 illustrated by Alphonse Mucha. There's a wonderful quality scan available online and each page has a gorgeous floral frame & I said to myself: well. I'm never going to find a fic that's a better fit for these illustrations than this series.

So, step one, I went through the book and picked up some of my favorite frames that has winter/autumnal vibes, since both fics take place from October-December. There are about 80 pages of frames, but less than 40 illustrations because they are repeated with varying color schemes. I needed 19 illustrations to have one per chapter. I recruited some friends in the Renegade Publishing server to vote on the order, though I ignored a lot of their sensible advice to put my favorites at the front and back of each volume.

Then I had to do basic image editing to clean up the covers. The scans were good quality but were very grey. Each page had a dark and light side due to the curvature of the pages during scanning. So for each image I:

Cropped to size & auto-adjusted the white balance to brighten the background to white

Selected the transparent frame between sections and filled it with white

Used a layer mask on a duplicate of the image to lighten the dark side of the page, using an opacity gradient to make the transition seamless.

Covered the text frame and top illustration with smooth-sized white frames of matching sizes. I tried just filling these with white but at the reduced size I'll be printing the imperfections of the original linework were jagged and distracting.

#long post #a fire shall be woken #bookbinding adventures

16 notes · View notes

lizbotw · 4 years ago

Text

Oikawa, Akaashi, Kuroo, Kenma, and Nishinoya With a S/O that Has a RBF and Can Be Moody

Anonymous said:

Hi! Can you do Oikawa, Akaashi, Kuroo, Kenma, and Noya with an S/o that has a resting bitch face and gives off a strong “dont talk to me” aura when moody or tired?

hey! these took me a while to finish so i hope you like them ♡

Oikawa Tooru

He’s used to people praising his personality, all sweet words and thoughtful gifts. What he wasn’t used to was someone other than Iwaizumi blowing a fuse in response to his actions, especially if it was over something miniscule.

You had forgotten your water bottle in the gym after your daily P.E. class, but with your lunch period having already passed, you had no choice but to wait until the end of the school day to go pick it up, lest you get scolded by a teacher for “skipping class” and going to do something deemed “unnecessary” during their precious class time.

And so you impatiently waited out the last few classes of the afternoon before you hurried to the gym, hoping that no one had moved your bottle. (If you had to go run to the lost and found because someone had placed it there, you swore you would just about scream—you were tired and wanted to go home, plus the extra time spent going on a wild goose chase for the object meant you might actually miss your ride home if you didn’t hurry).

You shoved open the gym doors unceremoniously—after-school sports clubs were already gathering in the room for their pre-practice warmups—and you kept your eyes focused on the area in front of you, wanting to get in and out quickly.

You squinted a little at the familiar shape in your line of sight. Ah! There it is. In the distance you could make out your water bottle resting upon the same bench you had left it on, and you jogged over to it, swooping it up and slinging your backpack down and off of your shoulders in one movement. Your bag landed on the bench with a thump and the hiss of the zipper when you tugged the main compartment of the bag open were all you were focused on.

While you were shoving around a few books in your bag, trying to make room to squeeze the water bottle in, you failed to notice the intense stare you had earned from one of the very sports players you had ignored on your way in.

“Hey! Can I help you?” A chipper, smooth voice was the culprit.

You whirled around at the sound, water bottle half shoved into your already overcrowded bag.

Just your luck. The infamously chatty Oikawa Tooru had been the one to seek your company the one time you were actually in a rush. Resident pretty boy and captain of the volleyball team—of course you knew who he was.

His smile was charming and even in his normal workout clothes, you had to admit he still looked good.

And you also had to admit that while any other day this would have been a great conversation to have, right now you were so over it.

You ignored his attempt at conversation and focused on finishing up here and leaving, turning back to your bag and silently praying for the water bottle to just go in.

He was taken aback by your lack of response, but, never one to give up, he tried again.

Next to you on the bench, he gently placed down the small towel he had slung over one shoulder, along with his own water bottle, looking at you out of the corner of his eye as he set them down—he kept his grin on, although it was beginning to waver at your lack of reaction.

“This is the volleyball bench, so that’s why I was wondering if you needed something. We don’t usually let people stay and watch us practice, but you know, I’m feeling generous today so if you want to-”

You straightened up, backpack now firmly placed over your shoulders and water bottle secure inside. Your eyebrows had furrowed into an annoyed expression out of habit and thus an involuntarily glare was given to the captain. “Yeah, no thanks. I’ve got to go,” you mumbled, barely feeling like talking—seriously, how could someone have so much energy after school?

Oikawa watched as you left the same way you had come, confused and slightly appalled by your behavior. It took Iwaizumi giving him a firm punch to the arm and an order to “get back to stretching, dumbass, I’m not dealing with you pulling a muscle later and whining, I fucking swear,” to get him to go back to work.

Your interactions were minimal much of the time, but as though fate drew you together, you found yourself having many more similar interactions with the captain, much to your dismay. You didn’t hate him per say, but you definitely couldn’t stand his radiant, flirty personality when you already felt half-asleep after a long day.

First it was your friend leaving their water bottle in the same place you had and them begging you to go get it and give it to them first thing when you saw each other tomorrow because they had to go home right after school today for some reason.

Next it was someone forgetting their phone and you offering to go get it because they had done you a favor that one time a few weeks ago and you wanted to return it.

Then it was a whole textbook (what are you even doing with a textbook in the gym anyway?).

The cycle went on and on, and each and every time Oikawa was there, you used to his cliche conversation starters by now. It became a sort of routine, a game, and when your brain was clear from the throes of sleepiness later, you would mull over the interactions and realize that you actually enjoyed them.

It was quite the shock for Oikawa when he ran into you during lunch one day and you were bubblier than he had ever seen you (you were still filled with energy after a long night’s rest and school hadn’t sapped all of your vibrancy for the day just yet—plus you were excited that it was lunchtime), even being greeting him enthusiastically with a “Hey, Oikawa!” and waving to him when he had called out to you (he expected you to ignore him so he was frozen in shock for a moment at your display).

At some point, lunchtime hangouts between the two of you became the new routine, and from there the routines slowly continued to change and evolve until you two were miraculously dating. (The new routine was now stopping by the gym after school, even if you hadn’t forgotten anything there, to give him a goodbye kiss and a “Good luck with practice, babe!” before you headed home. The alternative routine was that you finally took up that offer he had made on that very first day about you staying to watch practice, and afterwards he would walk you home, you two stopping in a convenience store to buy ice cream before you got far. You both seemed the enjoy the latter a lot more.)

Oikawa, observant as he is, figured out that you become “pouty” when you were tired (you were sitting on his bed and doing homework with him when he announced that as though it was some sort of profound realization, and you hit him overhead with a pillow because why did you just described it like that, Tooru???).

He’s pretty good about giving you space when you need it, although most of the time, even if you’re sleepy or upset and don’t want to deal with anyone, he’s still liberal with the affection he gives you, knowing that you secretly love the attention. He just has to look past your sharp words to see what you really want and at this point you’re pretty sure he’s a mind reader.

When you’re not feeling tired and overworked, he knows you can actually be pretty sweet, so if he sees you staring off into the distance, your not-so-neutral resting face on, he’ll absolutely annoy the hell out of you because once you crack that million dollar smile? He’s done for (but he likes the pain of his heart beating wildly around you so it’s okay).

He’s just an absolute sucker for how angry you look most of the time but how you’re simultaneously the most supportive person he’s ever met underneath it all (in some ways it reminds him of Iwaizumi, although you’re less… prickly than Iwa seems to be much of the time; that and you don’t throw volleyballs at his head whenever he messes up a play during practice—most of the time that is).

Akaashi Keiji

The literal calmest couple ever that simply likes to stick to themselves—that’s the initial impression many have of you two.

That couldn’t be further from the truth though. Despite your outward appearance, you were quick to crack smiles around just about anyone (you got along well with Bokuto for this very reason), and Akaashi had proven to be unexpectedly playful at times as well (it was mostly around you and his team though, so that side of him was relatively unknown).

Akaashi wasn’t put off by how you appeared at all—that sort of thing didn’t really matter to him—and the faithful pairing up of you two together for a group project finally gave you the opportunity to talk.

He’s generally good with dealing with just about anyone, so while he was surprised once you started talking his ear off about the project, outwardly he didn’t so much as bat an eye, simply listening to you ramble on and responding when appropriate.

Once you two are together, quiet evenings become common, you most likely laying on his chest and scrolling through your phone while he holds a book above his head, the only noise being the flipping of the pages. Evenings like those are exactly what you need when you’re feeling overworked and want to snap at just about everything, and Akaashi is quick to soothe you—with even just a few words from him you can already feel yourself feeling better.

He secretly takes pride in the fact that others may look at your moodiness and intimidating appearance and shy away, meanwhile he’s able to actually understand you (also he has experience with Bokuto so literally just hit him with all you’ve got).

Together you two can seem pretty intimidating and unapproachable, but you also look cool as hell walking through the hallways side by side so it’s a necessary sacrifice.

Akaashi picked up the habit of taking pictures of you when you’re not looking because you look amazing with your neutral face and fierce expression, but also when you’re joking freely with him, eyes screwed shut and mouth open as laughter spills out, you’re simply stunning. He likes the duality and sees something poetic in it because of course he does.

He loves looking through his camera roll sometimes and just scrolling and seeing you simply minding your own business and looking out the window in one picture, but then getting up to all sorts of trouble in the name of fun in the next.

He’d probably be embarrassed if you found out, although he quickly realized that he also likes to show you the pictures sometimes so you can see yourself exactly how he sees you, and you have to admit that some of the shots are breathtaking with how he seems to capture you in the perfect way (the lightning, background, and of course you all look amazing because he’s Akaashi and to him every detail should be just right, especially if it involves you) and when the pictures are paired together with the others, the contrast jumps out and you have to smile at that.

Kuroo Tetsurou

A mostly empty hallway, the two of you being the only ones there, was where it all started. An entire open hallway and of course, he still managed to bump into you somehow. (To be fair, you were tapping away on your phone, complaining to your friend over text about how you just wanted to go home already and take a nap because the test last period had been exhausting, and not paying attention to where you were going at all).

To his credit, he was quick to apologize, turning over his shoulder so you would catch his words, seeing as you two were walking in opposite directions. “Ah… sorry, I guess I wasn’t paying attention.” A light chuckle on the end tied up the apology nicely by adding a charming casualness to it.

You looked up from your phone with an annoyed expression, eyes narrowed, and sighed to yourself before you turned around to reply to him. “Maybe work on that next time,” you snapped. You were clearly exasperated and Kuroo was left blinking in bewilderment at the interaction.

You two were in the same class and although you knew of each other, you weren’t exactly friends—more like acquaintances, although Kuroo was wondering if he had missed the memo on when that title had switched to sworn enemies.

He decided to test this theory and tentatively bid you “good morning” when he got to class the next day. He had almost chickened out because you looked absolutely terrifying, almost as though you were going to bite whoever so much as glanced in your general direction.

Although you seemed confused at first at the fact that he was even talking to you, you gave a small, “Good morning?” back. (It came out as more of a question, but you know what? He’ll take it.)

Okay, so… you didn’t hate him? Or at least not as much it seemed?

And so Kuroo kept this up, always the first one to say “good morning” to you each day—it was sort of like a science experiment, him trying to gauge what you thought about him and test out his hypothesis (the mystery of that interaction in the hallway is what kept him at it, even as silly as it seemed).

You asked him at one point why he suddenly started talking to you and he quickly deflected the question, afraid you would catch onto his little research experiment, even as outlandish the possibility of that happening was.

Those were the first few interactions you two had and even now when Kuroo looks back on it he has secondhand embarrassment for his past self—what was he even doing?

Nowadays, now that you’re finally dating, he doesn’t question your moodiness, knowing that everyone has off days. He has also finally figured out that you two were never sworn enemies in the first place (although he thinks that this love story would have been way more interesting if that had been the case).

Whenever you’re staring off and looking serious, Kuroo loves to pinch your cheeks to snap you back to reality and even as often as he does it, you fall for it every time and honestly he can deal with the death glare you give him because then the small smile you can’t conceal comes out right afterwards (what he can’t deal with though is you withholding kisses from him because you said he didn’t deserve them after pinching you three times in the span of two hours, so after that one time you learned that that punishment was horribly ineffective because so clingy throughout it).

If you’re looking tired, simply down on your luck and annoyed at life, he doesn’t let it affect him and knows not to take it personally, slipping you a cup of tea to help you calm down and clear your mind, and sitting across from you at the kitchen table and watching you as you sip at the drink, ready to talk whenever you want. His affection is quiet in those moments, but you welcome it as much as you do his grand gestures of love—he always brings each type of support out at just the right moment and you find it hilarious that he had ever thought that you could hate him (you could never, not when he was like this).

Kenma Kozume

The fact that the first impression he had of you was that you weren’t in-his-face hyper was jarring enough—he was used to his teammates and their high energy shenanigans, so you were an anomaly in his eyes.

He wouldn’t exactly make a first move, or at least not for a while, but in class when he’s bored, head in his palm, elbow on the table, and drumming his pen against his desk absentmindedly, he would watch you out of the corner of his eye.

You confused him. You had tons of friends, Kenma knew that much about you, and he always overheard people talking about how much fun you were to talk to, yet here he saw none of that rumored playfulness. You were stone-faced as the teacher droned on, rigid in your movements as you copied down the notes from the board robotically.

Watching you write reminded him that he should probably do the same, but even as he went back to trying to focus on that day’s lesson and stared down at his notebook, you stayed on his mind.

He knew that not everyone always outwardly showed their entire personalities, but he had been watching you for what felt like forever and you never so much as cracked a smile. Surely that was unusual?

Kenma found himself itching to just walk up to you and say something—he hated not being in the know and… you seemed approachable enough. Even when he came to the conclusion to stir up a casual conversation with you to finally put his mind at rest, he was still surprised with himself when he actually did it.

He was even more surprised when you instantly brightened up when he talked to you, polite in your responses, yet not stiflingly so, the conversation flowing easily as you two jumped from one topic to another—he wasn’t even exactly sure what you two discussed, just that the words kept flowing out of him as he followed your lead, and for some reason he didn’t want it to end.

He’s not sure how it happened, but that one time conversation soon turned into multiple conversations and he found himself getting strangely attached to you, your excitable personality growing on him as time passed.

Kenma found it endearing how you could be upbeat and ready for an adventure most of the time, but that those times when you simply got tired or weren’t in the mood, you were the complete opposite, either wanting to talk to no one, or claiming that you wanted to talk to no one and secretly actually wanting someone to let you rest your head on their shoulder and just hold you (that’s what he was there for).

If he can tell you’re not in the mood to socialize, he won’t force you to do anything or talk about it if you don’t want to. He’s good at picking up the little cues you put out and you love him all the more for it.

Kenma knows what it feels like to just want some alone time, so it’s common for you two to just hang on in one of your bedrooms on weekends, each of you doing your own thing and not bothering one another. Sometimes one of you will just get up and move closer to the other person, cuddling up under their arm, and no words will be exchanged the entire time. (If you’re sitting between his legs while he plays a video game, he likes to lean down and give you a quick kiss on the forehead whenever he feels like it—come on, you’re right there, how could he possibly resist?)

Nishinoya Yuu

He’s used to Kiyoko outright ignoring him, and even any harsh words from her have him running to go tell Tanaka the “good news” about their latest interaction, so he wouldn’t be put off by your seemingly cold demeanor at all. In fact, he may be even more intrigued. He likes the chase after all.

You were sitting in class one day during a break, spacing off and simply watching your other classmates mingle around the room, and Nishinoya saw this as the perfect opportunity to talk to you, bounding over to you with a spring in his step.

He leaned down close to you, a mischievous smirk matching the playful lilt in his voice. “Hey, (Y/N)-”

He stopped short though when you turned to him smiling and returned the greeting without missing a beat. Wait, what?

In class you always looked bored out of your mind, or just plain angry to be here, unamused look in your eyes and the corners of your mouth downturned. He hadn’t seen you out of the classroom that much, or if he had, you had never been with your friends (so he had missed all the times when you joked around with them), either standing in the hallway alone waiting for someone and on your phone, or walking out of the school after class to head home and looking like you would absolutely fight anyone who prevented you from doing so. Even during group work in class, you were closed off—you had spoken the bare minimum during the majority of that one time that he had been paired up with you.

But now? You were a literal ray of sunshine. Nishinoya blinked at the sight, eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights—and then a giant grin spread across his face. He liked this.

His constant high energy is a great contrast to your sometimes “just done with everything” appearance (also school was absolutely tiring, so it was more likely to catch you in one of your sleepy, unenthusiastic phases than not during particularly high stress weeks).

He’s amazing at dealing with the times you just don’t want to interact with anyone besides him, never forcing you to speak if you’re tired and instead filling up the empty space in the air with his own words while you lean against his chest, you two on his couch and watching a movie during the weekend.

He thinks you’re absolutely badass and the fact that people are easily intimidated by you at first glance is just awesome to him like yes! That’s his baby right there! You should be scared! (But then, of course, people come to realize you’re actually a giant teddy bear inside.) He may or may not ask you to give Asahi some confidence pointers because you both can give off the same energy at times.

Even when you’re in a bad mood, Nishinoya is as vibrant as ever and has an infinite amount of energy and love to devote to you. Sit down with him and just vent all of your frustrations and he’ll make you feel better about everything, hyping you up if you display any sort of worries, and actually racking his brain for solutions to your problems if you ask for his opinion on what you should do (it’s adorable when he sits there with his thinking face on, going full on serious boyfriend mode).

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu oneshots #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo x reader #kenma kozume x reader #nishinoya yuu x reader #nishinoya x reader #oikawa tooru #akaashi keiji #kuroo tetsurou #kenma kozume #nishinoya yuu

508 notes · View notes

peachcitt · 3 years ago

Note

I've seen a lot of people saying that rot was BAD, what is your opinion?

OH IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED

like most people (im sure) after finishing rise of the titans, after wiping up my tears i went to the rot tag to see maybe some gifs or something. you know, make myself cry a little more. instead, i found a bunch of people saying how much they hated the ending, how it was as terrible as some of the worst big finale bombs (endgame, game of thrones, etc) and uh. im not saying the ending is perfect, but it is DEFINITELY not as disastrous as what people are making it out to be, in my opinion. i thoroughly enjoyed the movie, actually, and i thought it was an effective way to end the tales of arcadia.

warning: rise of the titans spoilers, as well as general tales of arcadia spoilers

were there some things i didn't like? yeah!

the major things i didn't like align with a lot of what i see other people saying:

the weird mpreg plotline with steve. it just felt so strange and out of place, and it was used as a tactic to remove eli and steve from the major action, which i don't like.

and the 'ninth configuration' thing that, once again, excluded eli and steve. i didn't see a reason why they shouldn't have been there, seeing as they have contributed to trollhunting since nearly the start of all of the tales of arcadia. multiples of three are clean and smooth, i get it, but at the expense of two characters that were so lovingly developed in trollhunters and 3below?? yikes

with that being said, though, i don't agree with what a lot of people are saying about the time travel at the end. obviously, they bring up some good points - by changing the timeline so drastically, there's no way for jim to ensure that they'll be able to succeed or if the arcane order will even act in the same way. it's a big 'if' and it is worth thinking about

but people have been saying that the ending is out of jim's character and negates his arc, and i have to say. that's not true.

if you've been following my blog since july 1st, you'll know that ive spent the past twenty one days rewatching the entire tales of arcadia series at a steady pace, and within that time, i've paid a whole lot of attention to jim's arc as a character and how the finale of trollhunters left me feeling as if something just wasn't clicking right. his arc wasn't finished.

because all throughout trollhunters, jim is constantly having to prove his worth - and most of the time, the way he's proving his worth is by sacrificing himself. he takes all the blame when anything goes wrong, and on some level, jim never truly learns the lesson from season one of trollhunters that he's enough as a hero because he has his friends to back him up. like, yeah, he relies on them a bit more after that, but in the end, he still stands in the bathroom alone, separated from all his allies, and shoulders the burden of turning into a troll alone. and he leaves arcadia, the city he was fighting so hard to protect, and he leaves his best friend, the one that has been with him since the beginning.

then we get wizards, where jim lets himself be corrupted to save his friends. and then, because of that sacrifice, he ends up hurting all of them. i believe this fact - that he willingly corrupted himself, separated himself from his allies, and ended up hurting the people he loved - shook jim's foundation as a hero, which is why he can't believe he's the trollhunter without the amulet. the amulet was the physical manifestation of what it meant to be a hero to him, but it was destroyed when he was corrupted - it was destroyed when he hurt his friends.

that's how we see him in rise of the titans; he's still struggling with his identity as a hero because he doesn't have the amulet or the unshakable foundation he previously had of his heroism. literally everyone is looking for him to be the leader and make the huge, world-saving-or-destroying decisions, but he can't shoulder that huge burden knowing he could hurt everyone. and then, just to add fuel to the fire, it's his plan that causes people to die or be permanently separated from the group. and he can't even get the sword out of the stone! why? because he himself doesn't see himself as worthy - how can you think of yourself as worthy when you just got two of your allies killed and two more gone, presumably for forever?

but this is the moment it finally clicks for jim. he looks around at his allies, and he sees them reflected in the amulet. he's not alone, he doesn't have to be worthy just by himself, he has an entire group of people who have fought by his side time and time again that, even despite all the mistakes and missteps he's made, are still by his side.

and what makes the amulet work, in the final fight, is his firm determination to see this fight through, no matter if he has the armor or not. he's terrified, he's probably going to die - but it's that bravery despite the fear that makes him a hero, a trollhunter, amulet or not. and he knows that now - he's had to face it before, in the unbecoming episode, but it's different now. in the unbecoming episode, he was truly alone when he decided to face the fight. and he's alone here in rise of the titans - but not for long! because almost immediately after jim comes to terms with his place as a hero again, toby comes along, and he doesn't finish this fight alone!! he finishes this fight with another trollhunter, who doesn't have an amulet!!

jim deciding to rewind time to back before the events of trollhunters is a bold choice, but it tracks with a theme in wizards - merlin told douxie that what set him apart as a master wizard was his belief that every life was valuable and worthy of being saved. this theme is repeated in the new amulet in rise of the guardians; it's for the glory of all, not just for one person.

and jim deciding to have toby become the trollhunter finally marks the completion of jim's arc. instead of shouldering the burden alone, which is inevitably what would've happened if jim had rewound time, kept all of his memories, and accepted the amulet again, jim is choosing to accept allies into his life sooner. instead of being the trollhunter, jim is letting himself be a trollhunter, alongside all the other trollhunters.

of course, there's some things in this alternate timeline i don't like; mainly that no one stepped in to stop steve from bullying eli. that, to me, was the most out of character, and i can only assume jim didn't step in because he's leaving room for that fight to be toby's; competing against steve was a large jumpstart to jim feeling like he could be strong enough to bear the mantle, and maybe jim was just trying leave it up to toby to establish that on his own. still, i didn't like it.

and, of course, there are people lamenting the fact that none of the heroes of arcadia know each other or that they might not have the same relationships, but i immediately thought of the time loop episode in 3below. in that episode, the trollhunters team and the gang from 3below meet and become friends and ultimately lose the memory of that friendship from that day. however, in that episode, blinky says that true friendship would last against the test of time; if they were meant to be together, then they would be. and guess what? even though none of them remember that happening, they all still became friends. it was meant to be.

i think a lot of anxieties about the changed timeline are because people loved the events of trollhunters so much that they a) don't want to see anything changed and/or b) are trying to project the events of trollhunters onto the new timeline and are upset when they don't fit. toby won't be the same kind of hero that jim is, though - he never has been. inevitably, the story will be different, and that's scary. that was the risk jim took, though, and jim has always trusted in toby, so why shouldn't we?

to me, tales of arcadia has never been about clean endings that make you feel entirely good. they've always left me with a tang of bitter along with the sweet, and i think that's the point. tales of arcadia has always battled with hard questions and difficult endings, and i don't see rise of the titans being any different from that.

like i said before, i don't think rise of the titans is perfect. but you can hate it as much as you want; i still really think it did a good job with the story it was trying to tell. i mean, ending with the idea that all lives are important and worth saving, no matter the risk? that heroism inherently means being part of a collective that you trust and believe in? that through time and space, you will always be able to find and connect with the people you love? that's powerful.

im climbing off my soapbox now, but basically tl;dr: rise of the titans was a good finale, despite it's imperfections, and i think that's all i can ask for.

also if you don't like toby as the trollhunter just because you don't like him breaking out of the 'funny sidekick' archetype you can die by my blade

#anon #ask #rise of the titans #rot #rot spoilers #jim lake jr #rott #rott spoilers #what im trying to say is media does not have to be perfect in order for you to enjoy it #and not only did i enjoy rot i also just. thought it was good? it didn't invalidate any of the rest of toa to me at all #the story we witnessed was still valuable; that was why we were shown this version #i won't get philosophical but like. i am.#all that being said it should've been jim telling the story in the beginning #WBKEBKEWKW I JUST REALIZED THERE WAS NO DOUXIE WITH HIS SICK ASS GUITAR. so that too

34 notes · View notes

x--daughters-of-darkness--x · 3 years ago

Text

Evanescence’s Amy Lee shares her thoughts on working with Halestorm’s Lzzy Hale

“We love each other, and we get along”

Front-women Amy Lee and Lzzy Hale are no strangers to collaborating with each other, Amy Lee having guested on Halestorm’s ‘Reimagined’ EP on the emotional piano ballad ‘Break In.’

This time however, the duo are set to share the stage with one another on an autumn tour that’ll see two of the most hard-working and hard-rocking women in the metal industry perform alongside their respective bands.

Whilst being interviewed by Matt Pinfield on the last instalment of the “New and Approved” music series on 95.5 KLOS, Amy Lee delved into her friendship with the Pennsylvanian-based Lzzy Hale:

"It started with music. It worked out for us to go do some shows together. We hadn't met in person before signing up to do a tour together in 2012. And I remember we had some kind of joint press or meet-and-greet to do on that first day. And I went in there like, 'Hey,' before the fans came in. And we just clicked immediately. She's really humble and really down to earth. She doesn't take all the glory too seriously. She takes herself seriously and respects herself. She's just a really cool person.”

"We love each other, and we get along," Amy added. "We play hard and we work hard. So I'm very much looking forward to playing live music in general; but to be able to go back out for our first tour out with a whole group of people that we're friends with — the crew, the band, we love each other, all of us. So it's gonna be a really good time.”

Evanescence and Halestorm will be hitting the road on 5th November in the US, starting with a date in Portland, Oregon before making their way throughout the country.

Evanescence's career throughout the years:

1998: The band's inception

Singer and pianist Amy Lee and guitarist Ben Moody formed Evanescence in Arkansas back in 1995, after the pair met at a Christian youth camp. They chose the name Evanescence due to its meaning: "disappearance" or "fading away". The duo released their debut self-titled EP in 1998 and were later joined by friends John LeCompt, Rocky Gray and Will Boyd.

2003: Debut album 'Fallen'

After being signed by Wind-up Records in 2002, the band released their debut album 'Fallen' in 2003. To promote the album, Evanescence headlined the Nintendo Fusion tour in 2003. 'Fallen' spent a whopping 43 weeks in the Top 10 of the Billboard 200 and was certified 7× Platinum in the US after selling more than 17 million copies worldwide. The album included hit singles 'Bring Me to Life', 'My Immortal', 'Going Under' and 'Everybody's Fool'. Mega hit 'Bring Me to Life', featuring guest vocals from Paul McCoy from the band 12 Stones, was an international success, reaching Number 5 on the American Billboard Hot 100 and hitting the top spot in the UK Chart.

2004: Grammy Award wins

The phenomenal success of 'Fallen' saw Evanescence win not one but two Grammy Awards in 2004. Their hit single 'Bring Me To Life' won Best Hard Rock Performance and the band won the award for Best New Artist.

2006: Line-up change and follow-up record

After parting ways with both Will Boyd and Ben Moody, Evanescence and the success of their Grammy wins, Evanescence went back into the studio to record their follow-up album. After 18 months of writing and producing, the band released 'Open Door' in 2006. The album featured singles 'Call Me When Your Sober', 'Lithium', 'Weight Of The World' and 'Sweet Sacrifice' and debuted at Number 1 on the Billboard 200. The album and single 'Call Me When You're Sober' have since achieve 2x Platinum and Platinum status in the US respectively.

2007-2009: Another line-up change

In 2007, The band announced that guitarist John LeCompt and drummer Rocky Gray had left. The duo went on to join founding Evanescence member Ben Moody to create the band We Are the Fallen. Evanescence brought in two members of Dark New Day, drummer Will Hunt and guitarist Troy McLawhorn to act as their replacements. Two years, later frontwoman Amy Lee announced that the band were going back into the studio to start writing their third, self-titled album.

2011: Third album release and worldwide tour

Due to delays with their record label, Evanescence weren't able to release their third album until 2011, five years after 'Open Door'. Not that it mattered, because 'Evanescence' debuted at Number 1 on the Billboard 200 chart and Number 4 on the UK Albums Chart and took the band on a year-long worldwide tour to promote the album.

2012: Hiatus and Amy Lee's solo project

Evanescence announced that they would be going on a hiatus in 2012, with Amy announcing in NME: "I haven't been sitting down to write. I'm thinking we'll take a break first. I'm really not sure what I'll do next. At the end of any really long tour you need to get your head in order. I think at the end of the run we'll go on a break for a while and figure things out. "Taking long breaks is seen as a bad thing, but I don't think it's a bad thing. People have the idea that you have to keep putting stuff out while people remember you. But I'd rather make something that's awesome and then make people remember again. I hope it doesn't take five years, but I don't want to put a timeline on it either. We'll all be doing our own thing for a while. They're (my bandmates) very talented and they'll all be fine." Amy Lee went on to release solo album 'Aftermath' in 2014, a soundtrack for Mark Jackson's film War Story. She said of the project: "It's not what you'd expect; there's a lot of blending of sounds, a lot of ominous tones. I play a lot of keyboard, and a lot of Taurus pedal. There's a lot of low drones."

2015: Reunion with intimate shows

Three years after going on a break, Evanescence ended their hiatus by hosting a three-night show at intimate venues in Nashville, Dallas and LA in November 2015. This was just before the band hopped on a plane to Japan to perform at Ozzy Osbourne's iconic festival Ozzfest, alongside Korn and Ozzy himself.

2015-2016: Another line-up change

In 2015, Evanescence underwent yet another line-up change after long-time guitarist Terry Balsamo, who originally replaced Ben Moody, decided to leave the band. His replacement was the German singer and guitarist, Jen Majura from the band, Equilibrium. Evanescense continued to tour throughout 2016, but focused on playing hits from their previous albums like 'My Immortal' and 'Going Under'.

2017: 'Synthesis'

Fourth record 'Synthesis' was released in November 2017. As well as featuring new material such as 'Imperfection', the album included reworked versions of the band's older works such as 'My Heart Is Broken', 'Lacrymosa' and 'Bring Me To Life'. 'Synthesis' peaked at Number 1 on four of the Billboard charts, including US Top Alternative Albums, US Top Classical Albums, US Top Rock Albums and US Independent Albums.

2018: 'Synthesis Tour' features a live orchestra

To promote the album, the band embarked on the 'Synthesis Live Tour' in October 2017. This 60-date worldwide tour was different from any other tour they had done before because it featured a live orchestra. The tour was co-headlined by violinist Lindsay Stirling who also featured on the band's single 'Hi-Lo'.

2020: Brand new music

In 2020, Evanescence released four new singles, 'Wasted On You', 'The Game Is Over', 'Yeah Right' and 'Use My Voice', which all appear on the band's fifth album, 'The Bitter Truth'. First announced in 2018, it was meant to be released in 2020, but had to be delayed due to the pandemic. 'The Bitter Truth' is not only the band's first album in three years, but also their first album with all-new material since 'Evanescence'.

2021: 'The Bitter Truth' is finally released

Evanescence released the fifth single, 'Better Without You', in early March ahead of the release of 'The Bitter Truth', which finally saw the light of day on 26th March 2021. The band is also set to be joining fellow rockers, Within Temptation this autumn for the 'Worlds Collide' European tour, which was postponed due to the pandemic.

#amy lee #evanescence #lzzy hale #halestorm #2021 interviews

14 notes · View notes

sometipsygnostalgic · 4 years ago

Note

something I mull over when AT crops up on my dash is, I remember when people were miffed about the episodes in the future implying that all the kingdoms will eventually fall and much of what the characters have done are for naught and i think... well, that's the point. Humanity nuked itself and ended their world. The theme continues that all things end, and must change and revive themselves; nothing lasts forever. Not relationships, not love, and not kingdoms. A gentle fading away.

The thing is, there are several episodes exploring legacy, not just PB’s legacy, but also that of other characters.

Here is a conversation from the episode Astral Plane that may peak your interest:

Finn asks if being born is the greatest act of creation, then is everything else just waiting for the end? Think of how the Candy Kingdom was born and will fall to its inevitable downfall.

GGGG says that creating his society isn’t enough, he needs to protect it. PB protects her candy kingdom through a number of methods. She is obsessed with this task.

Finn asks what it’s worth if the society falls apart. If PB’s society falls apart, then in her eyes, her life was for nothing. That was her perspective at this part of the show.

GGGG responds with action - immediately sacrificing himself in order to preserve his legacy.

If we examine PB’s response to threats that propose the end of the world, sometimes they are a lot worse, like mounting up armed forces and getting into conflict. But inside and outside of those conflicts, she usually puts herself on the front lines. Like Something Big, or the battle against the Vampire King, or against GOLB, where she was prepared to handle the conflict herself, even if it seemed impossible and came at high risk of her death. And I think we should recall the episode Reign of Gunthers, wherein she was prepared to just... make bottles for eternity if it meant Gunther wouldn’t end the kingdom. Peebles will get her hands dirty and put herself at risk of death to protect her creations.

But she’s also made several preparations for Future Ooo, that are leaked across the show - she is very determined to preserve her legacy even if Ooo goes KaBOOM, which is something she rightfully fears is inevitable.

This is primarily seen in the episode “High Strangeness”. Peebles has created rocket ships to make new candy kingdoms across the galaxy. She feels bad for keeping this a secret, but she thinks Ooo’s going to hell, and this is the only way to guarantee that her “eternal empire” will live on.

Then let’s look at the Graybles 1000+ future you propose: When we first see the future Candy Kingdom, it appears to have been destroyed. This would match up with what you said - PB never learned from her mistakes, and ended up going to a war that resulted in the CK’s destruction, leaving all of her work futile because everything still happens in cycles.

But, in the episode Graybles 1000+, while everything stays, it still changes. The candy kingdom is abandoned, not bombed out. Bubblegum’s society has not been destroyed - she saved it!!!

She saved the candy people by putting them in stasis, and running from whatever conflict was at risk of destroying the kingdom. And her sacrifice is she has to stay awake and find a new home for the candy people, while under threat from Gibbon and the Ice Thing, the latter who has kidnapped her in the intro.

The poetry here is that Bonnie’s kingdom was unable to maintain itself in the state she wanted it to. She wasn’t able to keep her eternal empire. But she was able to keep her legacy going, to survive, and look after her people. And she did this by withdrawing. Instead of putting everything against the Pup Kingdom, and fighting a losing battle, she did something different and retreated.

I also want to talk about her perspective in the finale, and in Obsidian. As of “High Strangeness”, it’s pretty clear Bubblegum thinks her kingdom is going to collapse no matter what, so she should make preparations for that day. She’s coming to terms with how it’s impossible to protect it forever, and trying to do so was driving her crazy. After the finale, where she nearly died in the battle against GOLB, PB resolves to take another step back from the kingdom. It’s a leap of faith. She wants to spend her best life with Marceline, no matter how short or long that time is. In Obsidian, Marcie and Peebles think they’re going to die at one point, but they spent that time with each other. The songs “Monster” and “Eternity with You” make it clear that they have no idea how long they will last, but if they spend that time with each other, it will have been well done. And I’ll take from this that even though PB and Marcy might get tragically separated in the future, they’ll be satisfied for having lived together in the moment.

So, Peebles taking a step back from her kingdom to work on her personal life goes along nicely with what you were saying. What’s the point of spending your entire life on a project that will inevitably collapse and leaves you dying alone and unhappy? Isn’t that a waste of time? Isn’t it better to live for yourself, even if it makes you feel like you have less control if a crisis does emerge?

But this doesn’t mean the act of creation was pointless, nor that the act of maintaining the kingdom is wrong either.

Bubblegum’s more extensive moral compromises, such as attempting to spy on everyone, and micromanaging her citizens, were wrong. It was trying to prepare for a threat that cannot be predicted or prepared against. She was constantly validated in this behaviour by Finn and Jake going missing in Lady & Peebles, or the fire kingdom hiding nukes in The Cooler, or the lich returning, or Peace Master making threats in Nemesis. But if she has to compromise so much of herself to look after the kingdom that the citizens themselves are struggling to live freely and are becoming scared of her, what is the point? She’s sacrificing her “humanity” when it might not do her any good in the end.

Making soldiers and having non-invasive contingency plans, however, are a fantastic idea. Improving defenses, Saving as many people as you can without compromising your morals or their dignity.

That’s what she does. And yes, she still takes some moral shortcuts, even at the end of the show. But she no longer does anything like in season 6, and is a lot better as a ruler for it - being able to make the decision to withdraw from an unwinnable battle in the late future, even if it means her people can’t re-establish their kingdom for hundreds of years.

#adventure time #long post

32 notes · View notes

fuckingdeadbutroyal · 4 years ago

Text

Jasonette July- Soulmate AU- Part 4

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

!Season 3 spoilers coming right ahead!

A tiny sigh escaped Maris lips as she felt her body filling up with energy. “He ate. I think I’ll be fine in a few”, she told her partner, who was currently swimming next to her. She hadn’t dared to detransform for a day now, knowing that doing so would mean her finally collapsing. The duo hasn’t been wasting time, though. Theyvwere trying to come up with a new plan. Ladybug told him all about her being the new Guardian of the Miraculous, about Chat Blanc and Bunnix. Pointed out how if Bunnix hasn’t turned up yet, that meant that they could handle the situation. Explained why she wouldn’t dare share her identity with him, even though she wanted to, because of how she couldn’t afford to risk him turning into Chat Blanc again. Ladybug told him about her soulmate. Now he finally understood how she had such incredible stamina and... had a hard time agreeing to the two of them staying as nothing more than friends.

Adrien did not disregard their friendship as something unimportant. Knowing that he was Ladybugs best friend and feeling that she was just as well his... best friend, his partner, the person he could rely on the most. It was amazing, unique and so very very important to him.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t hurt, though. He loved her and she liked him, they both knew that. It just was never enough. Not for Adrien.Now was not the time to grieve his broken heart, though. He was used to suppressing his emotions due to Hawkmoths terror. He could keep it together for a little longer.

Now that all their cards were laid out on the table, they were ready to come up with a plan.

“Look. I can’t cast my cure while the akuma is still out there. Creation doesn’t work with destruction working actively against it.”, Ladybug told Chat who, though currently detransformed as Adrien, winced. The word “Destruction” has already intergrated itself as a trigger, setting off a bad reaction in the teenagers mind. Plagg did not like that in the slightest. “Kid, you’ve gotta get it together. Yes I am the god of D-Trigger, but I’m also the God of Chaos and let me tell ya, I can’t sense a hint of chaos on that dusty dirtbag out there.” Adrien smirked, a drained, sarcastical smile forming on his lips. “Are you trying to tell me I have another power you’ve just forgotten to mention?”

The heroes knew they still weren’t off age and therefore didn’t have access to their full potential. That didn’t stop hope from lighting up in the backs of the duos hearts. They already couldn’t use the other Miraculous power, since all of the previous Miraculous holders were eliminated on day three, due to Hawkmoth already knowing their identities (thanks to what he had done on heroes day two years ago) and him finding the civilian heroes’ hiding places before Ladybug and Chat Noir could even locate their presence in Paris. Searching for new holders was clearly not a good idea. They couldn’t risk throwing someone inexperienced and terrified into a battle they didn’t know how to win yet.

But if Chat could use a new power?

That would be the element of surprise they needed! Adriens 18th Birthday was just around the corner, there's a chance it could work!

"Nah, he's not in the right condition to try, too young and way too exhausted"

Bye bye little flame of hope.

"But if you were to get some ACTUAL sleep and eat some fucking food? You would totally make it."

"Wait what?", Marinettes eyes were the size of asteroids. They had a chance! She just had to get him to one of those bunkers so he could get some sleep and then..."Then we'll have to go without it. I'm not leaving you alone milady."

Oh, yeah, there was that tiny detail she had forgotten. The two of them were too protective of each other to leave their partner to their own devices and Ladybug entering any building was not an option.The girl let out a frustrated huff, "Cha-" "I understand what you mean, Ladybug.”, Adriens voice was solid and left no room for argument. Batman would have been proud. “But this is not up to debate. I'm not leaving you alone, not while you are in this state nor during any of our battles. It has never ended well in the past and it sure as hell won't end well now."

Plagg' and Maris' annoyed sighs were absolutly identical, which would've made Adrien laugh, if it weren't for their current situation. He knew he was right, though, and he knew she did as well.

Mentally, Marinette was feeling better. Less on edge, more focused. It was surprising to all of them. Of course she still was incredibly tired, even more fatigued than yesterday, which was understandable since she has not slept for about a week now and spent most of her time swinging around Paris, thinking her head off and crying her eyes out while trying to save as many civilians as possible. Nontheless, even though her body was about to shut down, her brain was working at a thousand miles per hour. She knew it was thanks to her soulmate, who was currently fueling the both of them by ingesting loads of energizing substances and getting closer.

Marinette was now certain her soulmate was a man. He was in Paris, in danger and aware of her dependance on him.

Who could he be? How did he get here? Why now? Why hasn’t he ever tried to find her before?

She didn’t judge him, of couse. Did not expect him to put everything aside just to find her. Who if not Ladybug could understand what it meant to have duties holding you back, chaining you to the ones who claim to love you? (While they only do so because they need her, Marinette believed. Paris didn’t actually love her, no-one cared about her wellbeing unless it was important for their safety. No-one would jump into fire for Ladybug if they wouldn't trust her to sacrifice her sanity to resurrect them. No-one has ever jumped to rescue Marinette in her civilian identity, after all.)

Marinette was spiralling. Memories and repressed emotions suddenly jumping to the surface, reminding her of all the ways she had offered her very self to help anyone in need and receiving nothing in return. She had people who were nice to her, she had friends and family and people who loved her for who she was. Sadly, Mari only just now realised that love wasn't enough. It has never been enough. She would spend many nights awake, working on gifts and projects and helping her friends out or even just simply entertaining them over the phone. What for? Why?!

"Marinette is a saint", her parents would say, "She can do anything." Mari knew that wasn't true. She wasn't almighty. She couldn't even say "No".

That’s where the spiral came to an end. All those thoughts were standing at a cliffs edge, staring down into the abyss right beneath their feet. A tiny step forward, a minimal lean in and she would fall. Where would she go? What would she encounter? Was it okay to do this? Was it okay to change?

For once, Mari felt sure of herself. In a place she would've never thought she'd be, swimming under a god damn Ladybug themed boat in the middle of the Saine. Her mind was clear, certain. She opened her eyes and her mind jumped.

"Well fuck no I can't always do everything.", Mari heard Ladybugs voice, only partly recognizing it as her own.

The black cat duo next to her winced, having been discussing the topic of whether or not Adrien could leave Ladybug alone for a few hours. Not at all have they been expecting the sudden change in the star of their argument.

"Bug...?"

She looked at him, face straight but full of rage. Eyes sharp but full of thought. She didn't need to look around to figure out how to use her lucky charm, instead she had a horrible, unstable and unfinished plan she was absolutely going to follow.

"I have an idea."

------------------

Hawkmoth was nervous. The akuma was stronger than he had expected and definitely much harder to control. He hasn't yet decided whether or not it was a good idea to akumatize a homeless man, especially considering his educational history in architecture and geography.

It was like the Akuma was thinking, not just feeling like all his previous ones did. It could either mean victory or the literal end of the world. Gabriel was hoping for the first option, of course.

Another reason for his nervous state of mind, were the unexpected members of the justice league, who for whatever reason just now decided to enter the battlefield. He hasn't been expecting them anymore, once the first year of his reign had passed without a droplet of attention from Gotham and the rest of the world. If they've never cared before, why now? Did they suddenly have more free time or did they only just realise they were literal vigilantes and could therefore ignore any and all international borders?

Or was Hawkmoth finally on the right track, finally about to win so they sent the last of their forces to come and save his enemies? A grin split his masked face in a horrifying grimace. His secret weapon was still leashed, still waiting for his order. Agreste Senior had the upper hand, this was his time to shine, his time to win.

Finally.

----------

Much clearer air seeped into Jason's lungs. He even went as far as removing his mask, just so he could properly breathe in something that wasn't poisoned with a literal mist of dust and the stench of death. His heart, no, their hearts were beating faster. Jason stood right by the river. He felt the cold water numbing her legs and reaching for her throat. He felt her dizzy fatigue and her clenching stomach. He knew her thoughts were just as clear as his. It felt as though their minds were finally complete, as if their brains could finally grasp the whole situation. Their body's were so close, they could finally function the way they were meant to. Together, helping one another.

"Red Robin. I found her. The boats are meant for shelter, the akuma can't come out in the open and it’s afraid of water. The heroes must be somewhere underneath those fat kanus."

"Copy."

"I'm going in."

"Hood wai-"

Jason was already underwater, hearing but not listening to Tim's voice.

Red Hood was about to find his Red Lady and no one could stop him.

-------------

Marinette had just finished explaining her plan to Adrien, who was now transformed and ready to move, when she felt it. "He's here.", was all she could muster. Chat didn't have to think twice to guess what she had meant and subconsciously started to brace himself. He couldn't help but think that now really wasn't the time for her soulmate to interrupt. They were at war, which meant that her uninvited lover was putting himself and Ladybug at risk. Risking her safety meant risking Paris safety which meant that over all, Adrien felt like they were being royaly fucked by the Kwami of Timing.

The Duo felt the water underneath their feet moving. (The rivers flow has been stopped right at the beginning of the akuma battle. It was a safety precaution the mayor has ordered after a particularly unpleasant spread of akuma poison. Now, whenever the Akuma-alert went of, the city shut down, sealed shut and closed up. Not a single soul could enter and not a single twig could leave.

The heroes had formerly agreed to that being a great idea, now that they were short on everything, though... let's say they have learned that isolation wasn't always the best solution to their problems.)

Ladybug felt him before she heard him, a weird sense of Deja-vu overcoming her.

He came up behind her. Her spine felt like it was buzzing with electricity.

"Pixie?"

Jason didn't know why he called her that, but it sure as hell felt right.

Another shiver went down their spines. Marinettes reaction caused by her soulmates voice, while Jason's body just seemed to mimic hers even more intensely now.

She turned around.

Their eyes met.

Their scars felt like they've lit up in flames.

Two sleeping bodies were sinking towards the floor of the river Saine.

--------------------------------------

Hey ho, friendioh

I am so tired, my eyes are so done, je suis juste come Jasonette in my story.

You comments though? I LOVE YOU. Thank each and every one of you lovely message-leavers, my heart is now full of love and excitement and it’s your fault!

I can’t stress this enough, your feedback is shooing my depressay far far away.

Now back to the content. I am not finished yet, there’s more coming and the end is still uncertain, even to me. I have my plotline and my scenes, but this story has kind of started writing itself (which in my opinion is what makes writing so great). So I guess we’re all looking into a future just as uncertain as Dukes vision :)

My taglist has grown! Message me if you are interested in joining that cute group you are about to read the names of, I’ll be happy to add you ^^

Tag List \o/

@maribat-is-lifeblood @lokilex @amayakans @readingismyoxygen

Thanks for reading ^^

#jasonette #jasonette july #jasonette soulmate au #jason todd #jason todd x marinette dupain-cheng #maribat #maribat fanfic #marinette dupain-cheng #ml ladybug #ladybug #platonic ladynoir #platonic ladrien #ml angst #ml salt #hawkmoth is a psychopath

176 notes · View notes

periminkle · 4 years ago

Text

Orphic | 04

After moving into your own place, it seems life is finally going your way; the path to independence leading you to a quaint suburban town where even the grass seems to grow a little greener. Although a shocking encounter leads you to believe that perhaps appearances can be quite deceiving.

pairing: hybrid!jk x reader (first person)

genre: hybrid au, angst, fluff

word count: 7.6k

rating: PG-15

warnings: swearing, descriptions of blood and cleaning wounds, mentions of cannibalism (o.o)

author’s note: mMMm setting deadlines is effective but exhausting, so the pacing of this might be a bit weird? also im def not late bc it’s still sunday in some timezones so ;))

→ previous | next

I stared intently at the grungy nick in the otherwise spotless wall, mind racing a mile a minute.

The better half of the last hour had been spent pacing back and forth, gaze unmoving from the unconscious man in fear of missing the twitch of a finger or the flutter of an eyelash. His complete stillness persuaded me to check on his pulse frequently, glad to feel the faint, yet steady, beat beneath layers of smooth skin.

When I received a second call from my cranky saviour to inform me that he was nearly here, I forcefully sat myself down and practiced that infamous square breathing that every zen yogi swore by. By the persistent bouncing of my knee, it was evident that the yogis had failed me.

Rain was pounding down in thick sheets onto the pavement outside and at this point I was convinced the world had it out for me, using every trick in the book to further complicate this surely doomed rescue mission. Nonetheless, I optimistically hoped that the incoming storm would soon subside.

My unfortunate lips dealt with the brunt of my merciless canines, rendering the skin raw by the time a distinctive series of raps against the sturdy door caught my attention. It was the very same pattern in which I’d regularly knock on the door to the cleaning storage, craving the company of someone other than the three musketeers I’d gotten to know better than my own blood.

Although I ordinarily would be enthusiastically welcomed and greeted with nothing less than a wide, heart-shaped grin, the circumstances now were undoubtedly exceptional. Thus, the crinkle between his brows and the disgruntled glare fixed on my sheepish smile were to be expected.

Needless to say, Hoseok was not impressed.

“What the hell?” the typically friendly janitor barked out, huffing out his frustration at having his slumber disturbed. “You do know that it’s almost two in the morning right? How did you even get in here? Why couldn’t this wait for tomorrow?”

His hair stuck up in a multitude of different directions, evidently having rolled out of bed, slipped on a jacket and came to my rescue. The wrinkled, blue horse character on his pajama set eased some of my nerves at the familiarity of its nose, in the shape of Hoseok’s smile that was, understandably, nowhere to be found with the current circumstances.

I gripped the distressed male by his lithe shoulders, imploring him to slow down. “I’m not coming in tomorrow. Listen, this is gonna sound absurd but—”

His eyes drifted past my smaller form and I firmly shook at his torso to prevent him from spotting the other man. “Hey! Eyes down here.” A hint of curiosity bled through his agitated exterior when he focused on my stern exterior once more. “You can’t freak out, okay?”

Hoseok shrugged his approval, murmuring, “Yeah, I get it, directly disobeying the head researchers is pretty satisfying and all, but did you really have to drag me into this? Especially when you know I start early on Saturdays?”

At the reminder of his strict schedule, I withered marginally as I originally hadn’t intended to involve him at all. A shameful appreciation began to eat away at my conscience, grateful for his presence in spite of my outrageous request. I wouldn’t know what to do if Hoseok hadn’t come through and in my eyes, he remained an angel who was too good to be true.

“I’m sorry, I promise this is really important.” I brought my arms back to my sides, glancing down at my feet in order to organize my swirling thoughts. “I wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t an emergency.”

What I didn’t notice while lost in my reverie was Hoseok’s rebellious stare, wandering over the injured man’s form. “What the fuck?” He gently shoved me aside, stumbling deeper into the laboratory. When he was planted by the stranger’s table, he repeated, “What the actual fuck?”

My head tipped back in exasperation, disappointed that not even my last minute backup strategy was going according to plan. “Hobi, please.”

I could practically envision the gears whirring in his head, a natural reaction considering the mutant in front of him. When he finally craned his neck back to me, he mumbled with wide eyes, “Say sike right now.”

“Stop talking for two seconds.” I groaned, marching up to position myself between the janitor and the table in an attempt to calm him down. Immediately upon noticing his trembling digits, I reached out to clasp them within my own quivering hands. “Listen, this experiment they’re conducting? From what I know, it’s all some screwed up excuse to inject animalistic characteristics of their choosing into humans. And their track records point to a lot of predator species.”

“Predators? Wha—why would they even want to create a predator-human hybrid?” Hoseok took a tiny step back and out of the fear that he would flee, I fiercely clamped down onto our conjoined limbs.

“I don’t know yet,�� I faltered. “But, honestly, I couldn’t care less because of how unethical they are in their approach to this project.” At his puzzled expression I somberly gestured to the unmoving lump in the corner, willing myself to postpone any tears for a safer location.

Hoseok must have connected the dots at the midnight black shade of fur peeking out underneath the fabric matching the colour of the hybrid’s ears and tail, as his stare hardened and his breathing began to even out from the rapid pace it was at before. “I’ll need more details later on, but let’s get him out of here first.”

At his command, I retracted from Hoseok's hold, scoping out the rather barren area for something other than the masses of files and papers strewn about. “You think we can carry him together?”

Simply comparing the difference in size between the stranger and Hoseok, there was no doubt the copious, hulking mass of muscle outweighed my friend’s slimmer figure. Our combined strength would have to somehow prove formidable against his bulky body.

Hoseok’s grimace spoke volumes about his faith in that idea, although there wasn’t much of a choice considering the alarming time crunch and our limited accessibility to other parts of the laboratory. Due to my blind confidence in the ostensibly foolproof scheme I constructed, the only cameras shifted were directly located in the path from the front entrance to the changing room to the upstairs lab.

Oh, how I was regretting that naivety now.

Using an abandoned stretch of fabric that had been stuffed into one of the drawers I rummaged through earlier, I covered his immobile body with the thin cover to provide some decency and act as a layer of defence against the torrents outside.

While Hoseok stood directly behind his head, leaning forward to loop his arms underneath the hybrid’s triceps and around his chest, I grabbed each of his ankles, cradling them to my abdomen. Even with our best efforts to avoid any of his wounds, there was no way to avert the countless scratches and bruises that littered every inch of visible skin. We counted on the sanguine belief that he wasn’t conscious enough to feel any of it, reluctant to use any tranquilizers when we weren't aware of how much juice they’d already injected him with.

“On the count of three?” Hoseok asked.

With a nod, I tightened my hold and widened my stance. “One, two,” after taking a generous inhale, I heaved, “three!”

The two of us managed to maneuver the stranger down the length of the dingy hall before we were forced to gently place him onto the ground, desperate to grant our aching muscles the break they demanded. Currently, construction was being done on the elevator, which meant that the flight of stairs was the next obstacle to be tackled.

I lost the brief, but fierce, battle of rock-paper-scissors and endured the frightening prospect of marching down the stairs backwards—in the dark. All because Hoseok was unwilling to sacrifice the slightest bit of his comfort for the both of us to step sideways.

It was safe to say the stairs themselves took ten minutes to clear.

On the first floor, we were able to cross over to the main entrance in a breeze thanks to the spacious nature of the lobby. After scurrying to Hoseok’s car and laying the hybrid in the back seat, I returned to the lab to dutifully lock up the front door and jogged back to the vehicle.

Hoseok sent me a befuddled brow lift from the front seat when instead of the passenger’s side, I hesitantly stood a stride away from the driver’s door. “He’s fine, hurry up already so we can get out of here.” He motioned to the space beside him with the flick of his chin, his bed head dancing along with the movement. “It wouldn’t look too great if anyone caught us right now, especially with the man-cat knocked out cold in the back. Plus, the lab just radiates spooky vibes at night, look at my goosebumps!”

“Okay, okay, give me a second,” I grunted, opening the door to the back seat as I bowed inside to avoid a painful meeting with the roof of the vehicle. While gripping the back of the stranger’s skull with one hand and his upper back with the other, I lifted his torso and slipped inside. Tenderly, I placed his head on my lap.

“What are you doing?” Hoseok stared at me through the mirror, evidently unnerved by my proximity to the man. “He could literally wake up at any minute and there goes your throat!”

“Or he could get juggled around from your shitty driving and open his injuries again,” I countered, “which I think is a lot more likely, no?”

He scoffed, taking full offence to my jest. “Never mind. I hope he throws you out the damn window for calling my driving anything less than spectacular.”

The rush of excess blood coursing through my veins as a result of my overactive heart pounded in my head, nearly loud enough to block out the boisterous revving of the engine echoing throughout the empty lot. Tires squeaked against the pavement, jolting the hunk of metal into action as we sped away.

“Where were you thinking of leaving him?” he asked, taking a breath before mumbling, “that is, if you thought about this at all.”

“Hobi!” My jaw dropped dramatically at his not so subtle jab, shaking my head as I commented, “You’ve been hanging around Yoongi too much lately. I mean, all this sass couldn’t have come from nowhere.”

He slowed down behind the only other car in sight, flicking on his signal to turn. “Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not, I was just commenting on your drastic change in behaviour,” I rebutted, crossing my arms across my chest at his determination to aggravate me tonight. “For your information, I actually planned this out for weeks; who do you think got the key card to the upstairs lab, the keys to the building itself, moved all the cameras—

Despite the leather seat between us, I knew he was sporting a sly smirk, for his conceit was bleeding through his supercilious tone. “And who begged me for help halfway through this ingenious plan?”

My jaw clenched shut, astounded at his cheeky retorts. At first, I was unsure of how the relationship between the jovial custodian and the chilly facade that Yoongi donned among strangers would progress, but judging by the sheer number of occasions in which I’d walked into a room with the two chatting away—gummy smiles all around, it seemed to be advancing better than expected.

“Whatever, you came anyway.” I sank back into my seat, careful not to disturb the comatose man peacefully resting on my thighs. Hopefully he was narcotized enough to remain oblivious to the various disturbances around him and would only rouse when the sun made an appearance.

Hoseok blithely sneered, pressing harder on the pedal as he spun the steering wheel to the right. “Yeah, well it’s kind of hard not to when you claim that Hyunho’s going to sue your ass for thousands of dollars.”

“And was I wrong?” I recalled our earlier conversation, where I hadn’t yet mustered up the courage, much less the patience, to confess to the details of my crimes. In a panicked state, I simply presented the consequences which would follow Hoseok’s absence—Hyunho’s wrath.

“No, now you’re just gonna get your ass handed to you by Namjoon and Yoongi,” he countered. “But I guess you’ll save some money while you’re at it.”

Merely the thought of their reactions to my late night escapade made me want to shrivel up in a ball. “Who said I’m going to tell them?”

“You’re not telling them?” The car slowed as he gradually came to a graceful stop behind a red light, turning his torso to face me with the help of his hand on the central console. “You know better than to release the man-cat, he’ll just get caught again.”

Rolling my eyes like a petulant child being scolded, I muttered, “I’m not releasing him.”

“But you can’t deal with him on your own either!” he snapped, the lack of sleep shortening his tolerance. After a pause to regain his senses, Hoseok rapidly shook his head and twisted back to focus on the empty roads ahead.

"Listen," I gritted out between my teeth, my own temper flaring. “I think you’re forgetting that I was well aware of the fact that I would be housing some kind of animal for a while, just didn’t know he would be this big.”

“Or this dangerous? This costly?” His firm grip on the wheel tightened, knuckles turning white as his emotions boiled over. "You’re not prepared to deal with him, I'll just take him back to my place."

A puff of air escaped my throat at his ridiculous solution, stating, "You live with your sister. There's no way she won't find out."

"Like you're any better off," he quipped, staring me down through the rearview mirror. "You live alone. If he were to do anything to you, we’d be none the wiser about it."

"Well, we can't risk anyone discovering his existence. There's no other way.” By watching the stranger’s chest rise and fall with each elongated breath, I was able to simultaneously avoid Hoseok’s prying eyes and collect my own thoughts.

While impatiently waiting for his arrival back at the lab, my mind had trudged through copious possibilities, overwhelmed with the pressure to choose the right one. Eventually, I came to the disconcerting conclusion that, be that as it may, the most secure option remained to bring him back to my place.

I reassured, "Don’t worry, I cleared out my bedroom so that there’s nothing in there that could potentially be used as a weapon. We'll secure him down, lock the door, and I'll camp out in the living room."

"Y/N, we don't have any clue what this guy is capable of,” Hoseok stressed, worry colouring his voice as he sharply gesticulated with his free hand. “Hell, look at him! He has cat ears, Y/N, and do not get me started on his tail.”

I stole a glance at the accused appendage in bewilderment, unsure of why that aspect was at the forefront of Hoseok’s concerns regarding the mutant boy. “What’s wrong with his tail?”

“My point is,” he accentuates, “we have no idea what we’re dealing with here. What if he has some kind of monstrous super strength and his diet consists of human flesh? He could probably rip right through any restraints and bam! That'll be the end of you."

I held my tongue at ridiculing his absurd speculations when some sort of man-cat hybrid was currently strewn across the back seat of Hoseok’s run-down Corolla; a dim display exposing the current, ungodly hour of the early morning.

“Do you have any better ideas?" Although my question was met with radio silence, we steadily continued on the potholed path headed away from my house. I spoke up again, "Where are you taking us?"

"We're going to Namjoon's place, and we're gonna think of a better alternative all together."

"Hoseok," I seethed, fists clenching next to my thigh. "He'll make us take him back. We're already too far in to go back now."

The car jerked violently due to the bumpy road and being suddenly reminded of the wounded boy, I shot out to grab at his thin waist in order to nail him to the seat. Despite my best efforts, crimson liquid soaked through the thin blanket and I cursed under my breath.

"I can't leave you there alone with him!"

"Please, we'll be careful." A beat passed as I greedily inhaled the fresh air flowing in through my open window, gathering ideas to negotiate. "I'll stay awake the whole time and I'll text you every hour."

Regardless of my pleas, the car kept at its incessant pace to Namjoon's apartment. Sweat began to accumulate at my temples at the unsure fate of what censure awaited me. To distract my nerves, I gripped the fabric that covered the man’s body, tugging it over his shoulders to rest just below his chin while pressing a bunch into his side in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

Past the low hum of the vehicle, a gentle utterance met my ears. I lifted my head to inquire whether the sound was merely a figment of my fatigued imagination when Hoseok repeated, "Every half hour."

My eyes widened, darting to examine his stoic expression from the rearview mirror. "Yes! Yes, yes of course. I can even do every ten minutes if that’s what you want." I shrugged my shoulders, pointing out, "I'll be up all night anyway."

"No, I'm good. Unlike some of us, I don't deserve to be punished for my crimes and would like to salvage the little sleep I can get," he declared as he performed a U-turn at a wide intersection.

My grin expanded exponentially at the change in direction. "Suit yourself."

I allowed my thoughts to clear, tracing a clear droplet on the window as it raced to engulf another, merging into one, larger globule that ran down the smooth expanse until it was out of sight. Unknowingly, I mindlessly carded my fingers through the stranger’s dampened strands; more so for my own comfort than for anyone else.

Before I knew it, we’d arrived at my quaint cottage and with the addition of another individual residing under its roof, the place seemed tinier than ever. Hoseok and I shuttled him over to my bedroom as gracefully as we possibly could, aiming to avoid whacking into any obstacles along the way.

Other than his lengthy legs knocking into two door frames, we were clear.

The second his back met the rigid mattress, we collectively released a weighty exhalation from the excessive exertion that strained both our physical and mental states. Although the chances of the stranger waking up now were low, seeing as he was out like a light throughout the whole journey, I hurried to collect the sturdy ropes that I purchased in advance.

“Ooh, you’re into some kinky shit, huh Y/N?” Hoseok quipped, taking the material from my hands.

My eyes rolled back at his stupid antics, glaring at the pleased crinkles forming next to his drooping eyes. “Ha ha, very funny. Now help me tie him up, so I can kick you out of my house.”

“And what’re you gonna do to him when I leave?”

Snatching the rope that he stole from me, I shoved Hoseok to the side by pressing against his firm bicep—which definitely carried more than his fair share of the hybrid on the way here—and grumbled, “Guess If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself.”

Hoseok burst into a short fit of contagious laughter, invoking a couple quiet giggles that I was unsuccessful in fighting down. As he raised the stranger’s arms to the bed frame, I looped the braided, nylon material snug around each of his wrists. Along the way I checked to ensure that the restraints weren’t too tight before moving onto his ankles to repeat the process. Luckily enough, his height stretched the entire length of my minuscule bed with his feet dangling off the ledge.

“Tell me you brought more tranquilizers in case?” Hoseok asked immediately upon securing the last knot. Throughout a tedious explanation on how foolishly lax I was behaving with the hybrid, he went back to inspect my handiwork, tugging the ends of the cords closer together into a grip that nearly cut off the hybrid’s blood flow.

Over his nagging, I sneaked a victorious grin as I displayed the syringes I’d nabbed from the lab. He spent a few more minutes fiddling with various safety measures consisting of the pepper spray he stealthily retrieved from my purse, the bedroom door’s lock and an air horn that he remarkably pulled out of his coat’s pocket. Although it was questionable if the blaring sound would awaken even my closest neighbours due to the sheer distance between our houses, I didn’t dare attempt after imagining old Sangmin marching over here on his rickety cane to bark my ears off.

Refusing to bother expending effort on pondering over the rationale behind Hoseok’s little magic trick, I blithely shooed him out before any more ridiculous objects could be plucked out of his jacket.

The last straw was his finger approaching the sensitive button on said air horn. Unwilling to face the consequences of his brash actions, I slammed the front door closed behind Hoseok, the space suddenly void of his rowdy antics. I wearily blinked the drowsiness out of my eyes, the stillness and tranquility of the early hours slowed my heart rate from the fast paced, action packed night.

My sock-clad feed padded their way back to the bedroom, snatching my phone out of my black hoodie to fiddle around with an app that I discovered upon moving out. In order to relay my continued existence to my family, I scheduled texts to be sent every week, which would prove useful at this time as well. Knowing my own forgetful nature, one update to Hoseok would slip my mind, and either four, furious men would burst through every available entrance or I would have the whole police force upon my front steps in minutes.

To prevent such a disastrous event from taking place, I tampered around with the settings and added the fretting male to the list.

I halted in my tracks when faced with the mundane sight of the four walls where I spent most of my sleeping hours, not a hair out of place other than the addition of the injured hybrid on my dirtied bed. The crimson stains jolted me into action, retrieving my brand new first-aid kit and finding it hilariously ironic that the dressings were going to be used on the very same criminal that broke in to steal such supplies.

In order to fight off any cold that could have possibly slithered its way past the weak barrier draped over his body, I peeled the flimsy, sodden cover off and replaced it with a puffy comforter. Traversing through the storm that continued to rage outside definitely put a strain on his already weakened state, and his pale countenance wasn't very reassuring.

I slid the blanket down to access the sullied wound at his rib cage and grabbed a couple pads of gauze to firmly press onto the area. Thankfully, some blood had already begun to coagulate around the edges, so I didn’t have to wait too long for the trickling stream to cease. With a clean towel, I wiped the surrounding skin to get a better look at what I was dealing with, grimacing at the bruises forming galaxies across the jagged edges of ripped skin.

He was in worse shape than either Hoseok or I could have predicted. At this realization, the fleeting worry that he might succumb to the severity of his wounds grew, festering a nasty doubt in my mind.

Deciding whether to clean the laceration commenced another strife within the whirlwind of emotions inside my head, but I poured a few drops of antiseptic onto a cotton ball anyway, fearful of infection. As I tried my best to carefully dab the soaked material across his wounds, I peered up at his face to search for signs of consciousness.

My eyes involuntarily softened at the small cuts littered across his neck, travelling past his jaw and over the slopes of his hollowed cheeks to his forehead, which was partially hidden under his dark locks. When the cotton was thoroughly besmirched with a blend of bright crimson and a muddy brown, I drenched another and advanced up to other regions after the more serious lesions were taken care of.

A closer look at his sinewy torso allowed me to examine the scars scattered all around, mostly clustered around his upper arms. Absentmindedly, I wondered whether their appearances were linked to the cruel methods of the laboratory. How had he gotten within their clutches in the first place? For how long was he suffering under the justification of being an experiment?

What were they trying to accomplish with him?

My mind raced with all the different possibilities of what could have brought the hybrid into this situation in the first place, and before I knew it, I was pushing back the disheveled strands on his forehead to clean the last of his cuts. There were definitely more on his dorsal side, but I wasn’t willing to undo his restraints and flip his hefty weight over on my own. I would either wait until he woke up or ask Hoseok to stop by again after his shift.

In my current position, I was close enough to feel his warm breath fanning across my skin, observe the tiny brown mole under his lip and how utterly breathtaking this man was underneath the cuts that marred his skin. He was undoubtedly attractive at first glance, although I wasn’t able to appreciate his masculine features while under the stress of saving him.

Once every laceration in my reach had been disinfected to the best of my limited abilities, I swiftly bandaged his side again and stuck Spider-man themed band aids onto the smaller cuts in memory of the Hello Kitty ones that decorated his body earlier. I settled back on the chair, admiring my handiwork and fighting back the looming threat of dormancy that approached with every elongated blink. My head leaned back as I crossed my arms, thinking that a little snooze never hurt anyone.

I was blind to the cocoa orbs drinking in the darkness.

The bright light streaming in through the numerous cracks between my blinds prodded my eyelids apart, pupils struggling to adjust past the groggy haze of an unexpected slumber. Rather than revelling in the bountiful energy supplied by a restorative nap, an obnoxious cramp in my neck made its presence known alongside the bleak, obstinate tingle of dormancy that lingered within every tightened tendon, pulsating throughout my entire body.

Although the pain gradually ebbed away after I rolled my head around in wide semicircles, I knew from experience that the ache of sleeping in an uncomfortable position would linger.

Gold streaks were painted on the hardwood floor as a result of the sun’s harsh rays, a stark contrast to the dusk of a few hours ago. As I began to fuzzily recollect the memories from yesterday, I spotted the growing number of discrepancies between the room I’d seen before I closed my eyes and now, from the open door to the ruffled sheets, devoid of any sign of life.

Fortunately, I seemed to be in the same position, seated on the tough chair that I snoozed off in a few hours ago. However, I found it odd that it was particularly difficult to do much else than squirm around, and that was when I realized the problem lied in the nylon material tied around my wrists and ankles, binding me to the furniture.

A cold dread washed over me, much like a freezing bucket of ice being poured over my head. The hybrid escaped.

Well, at least he didn’t exact his fallacious revenge on my sleeping form.

“Awake?”

I squeaked at the whiplash that followed the movement of my head twisting a second too quickly, intent on identifying the furtive speaker. My eyes widened exponentially at locating the muscular hybrid, black ears twitching at my cry and tail swishing in curiosity. Being clad in only boxers, I shifted my gaze away out of instinct, a fiery blush overtaking my features despite having ogled the man’s ripped physique before.

It felt completely different when he was unconscious and my only intent was to treat his multitudinous wounds though.

He slowly blinked, clearly finding my astonishment puzzling with the bewilderment laced in his orbs. Waving a large palm in front of my face to get my attention on him, he calmly said, “No hurt.”

The tight rope that currently hindered my motion was definitely the same one that had been previously occupied with restraining the hybrid to the bed. Yet the very same male stood in front of me, free as a bird. “H-how did you get out?”

Instead of answering verbally, he extended his defined arms out to the side, imitating the position he was tied up in, then robustly swinging both limbs towards one another. So he broke through those thick, durable ropes with sheer strength and willpower. Comforting.

The tranquilizers laid scattered across the floor, much too far to even consider reaching them.

“Where’s your blanket?” I questioned, suppressing the tremor in my voice as I found it outrageous that my throat was still intact at this point. There was no guarantee that he wasn’t harbouring any motives to rid the world of my presence, but the fact that he wasn’t actively making any moves to rip my heart out was a good sign.

The mop of dark chestnut swayed along in the same direction that he tilted his head over to; a habit revealing an emotion that I couldn’t place on the stranger. “Warm. No like.”

His broken English revived a flurry of trepidation. I recalled the night of the break-in, the terror and hysteria that I’d buried away under the incorrect pretense that a burglar never hits the same house twice.

I didn’t know if that sentiment applied to kidnapping the criminal and using your place as his hideout, as well.

As I noisily gulped, I felt his stare dart to my esophagus and in a wild panic, my wide eyes met the doe-like curve of his own. The hybrid edged closer to my trembling form before treading past me, out of sight. I closed my eyes in preparation.

This is it. Goodbye world, it was pretty shit while it lasted.

I heard the rustling of fabric behind me and silently applauded the man for thinking of a quick and easy suffocation to reduce the amount of clean up afterwards.

His bare feet slapped against the floor, trekking over to my front again. When a couple seconds passed and none of my airways were blocked nor was there any piercing pain to be felt, I cautiously cracked an eye open to see the stranger standing there, the puffy blanket from before wrapped around his broad shoulders.

“Good now?” he inquired with a bunny-like smile.

My jaw dropped slightly as I nodded, attempting to formulate a sentence but coming up empty. The stark contrast between the brawn enveloping his body and his innocent features threw me in for a loop. This must have been part of his grand scheme to ruthlessly murder me—lulling me into a false sense of security before executing me on the spot.

Outwardly, the hybrid appeared to possess more human features than his animal counterpart, leading me to wonder which instincts ruled over the other. Was he more level-headed and rational or was he unable to suppress his bestial instincts? Did he get sudden, violent mood swings or go on occasional, bloodthirsty rampages?

The lack of knowledge I had regarding the man, who had somehow gained the upper hand through his brute strength, was worrying. A tinge of regret for not skimming through a few files on said hybrid before Hoseok’s arrival made me softly curse under my breath.

As I shifted in place, I was reminded of my own predicament. “So, uh, any chance you’ll let me go?”

With his broad grin still on full display, he made his refusal clear by shaking his head back and forth. It was worth a try. “Not fair. I tied, now you tied.”

His childish logic caught me off guard and a bark of laughter shook my stiff shoulders, marginally relaxing at the prospect that he might postpone the bloodshed for a later time. The mystery laid in how he could distinguish my harmless intentions from the head researchers’ diabolical ones. Maybe it was the lab coat?

I made a mental note to never wear my own lab coat in front of him.

A grumble snapped me out of my reverie. I observed the stranger’s startled features as he glanced down at his abdomen, then, unabashedly, back up to my face. Recalling his screams of horror back at the lab, the barbaric treatment he received there was indisputable and based on his raging stomach, I guessed that it had been a while since he’d eaten anything of substance.

Of all times, Hoseok’s ridiculous words of the hybrid’s diet consisting of human grade meat played back through my brain and jitters erupted over my limbs, wanting to please the man before he was picking his teeth with my freshly cleaned bones.

“Hungry?” I prodded, pushing other priorities to the side in favour of feeding the rumbling beast.

His dark orbs immediately lit up with pure, unadulterated glee. The hybrid gracefully tied the ends of the fabric around his neck like a cape and rounded closer to me with mirth written across every crease on his countenance.

Unsure if his giddiness was attributed to the assumption that I was offering up the meat lining my organs, I squirmed in protest, attempting to cause a ruckus in order to spur his excitement towards another source of protein in the fridge.

Not having much choice in the matter with my limited range of motion, I watched in worry as he scurried out of sight again. “Hey, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here and—”

Despite being prepared for his unpredictable nature, a yelp flew past my lips when I was effortlessly lifted into the air, chair and all. His forearms caged my thighs as he gripped the bottom of the seat, hot pants of air blowing onto the back of my neck from his position.

His elation was practically tangible as he flew past the open doorway and sped off through the foyer. He must have ventured deeper into the house while I was blissfully unaware, since his strides towards the kitchen were filled with nothing but confidence in every step.

Hastily, I spat out, “I’m not that delicious, trust me! My budget’s been pretty strict this month, so I’ve just been eating junk, and I don’t imagine that’ll taste very go—”

The force holding me upright loosened when we reached the fridge, permitting my feet to find the floor. “Dee-lee-shiz?” He tried to imitate, turning to point straight at me.

“No! No, no, not delicious.” I corrected, violently shaking my head.

His outstretched arm retracted to his side, staring like a hawk at my chin tipping towards the metal cooling box behind him, and I repeated, “Delicious.”

As he flung the door to the refrigerator open, nearly ripping it right off its hinges, he yelled, “Dee-lee-shiz!”

Utter fascination at the chilled temperature and the rather meager array of food etched onto his features, sending relief through my veins. I encouraged him to ravage the tenuous stock of food while simultaneously rejoicing at successfully having deterred him from eating me alive.

Packs of eggs, blueberries, condiments, and essentially anything within his reach was hauled out, forming a growing heap on the countertop. When a zucchini found its way into his grasp, he took one puzzled look before chomping down on one end. I wasn’t too sure how raw zucchini would taste when eaten as though it were a cucumber, but he seemed pleased enough to take another bite that resounded throughout the space with a loud crunch.

I reclined back into the stiff chair, content on observing the ravenous hybrid empty my fridge and taking an occasional nibble on snacks that piqued his interest. Although, his grab at the bundle of raw chicken was when I decided to voice my concerns. “Ah, that has to be cooked!” At another tilt of his head, I explained, “You could get sick if you don’t cook it.”

By his furrowed brows, I deduced the concept flew over his head, but he threw the package onto my lap anyway and peered down expectantly. “Cook.”

“You tied me up, remember? I need some mobility to cook.” I tugged at my subdued arms to demonstrate my current inaptitude.

He hummed in thought, enveloping his lower lip between his lengthy canines as he weighed the pros and cons of being able to consume the meat by setting me loose. Finally, after clearly expressing how torn he was between his hunger and his teasing, it seemed that he’d come to a conclusion when he latched onto my left forearm.

Just as I was about to jib that I was no longer on the menu, a searing pain ripped across my wrist. I hissed through my teeth with my fists clenched as I teared my tender arm out of his grip, protectively cradling the limb to my chest.

He flinched away from the sound, taking a step away from my defensive form. At the sight of my disgruntled frown, he withered into himself, chin to his chest while I examined my sore wrist, whimpering at the edges of the flaming red, torn skin. I was a second away from viciously reprimanding him for the bruise that was more than likely to form by tomorrow, but one look into his guilty, fearful eyes made me pause.

With his strength, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he possessed the ability to do much worse, which didn’t seem to be his intent from all the fretting—ears tucked into the crown of his head and tail hanging low. As he seemed to be repenting without a chiding needed on my end, I redirected to a softer approach. “It’s fine, just be more gentle next time, okay?”

“Mm,” he complied weakly, his prior enthusiasm having substantially deflated. Before I could dismiss the topic and entice him with more food, he knelt down to my ankles, gripping the rope with both hands this time as he effortlessly tore the material apart, careful not to graze my legs in the process.

A shiver crawled down my spine at the display of power, mentally noting that there was probably enough strength in his fingers to flick my stunned form across the room; yet the man proved his duality by proceeding to grab one loose end of his makeshift cape and gently tie it around my unscathed wrist. “No run.”

Surprisingly enough, I hadn’t made it a break for it as soon as I was liberated. Although I sustained minimal injuries, he expressed his remorse and made no moves to consume my flesh, which was another good sign. As more time passed, he was revealing to be more and more of a passionate bunny stuck in a wrestler’s body.

After all, I hadn’t gone through all the trouble of kidnapping him just to sprint at the slightest sign of trouble. I confirmed, “No run.”

Some of his original ardour reappeared at my acknowledgement, along with a faint giggle that evoked a tiny smile on my own face. I figured that with his minimal experience revolving around homemade dishes, simply slapping on some salt and pepper to flavour the meat with a side of boiled vegetables would suffice. Thus, I took the package from my lap and got to work.

Cooking with another, rather useless, individual essentially attached at the hip was difficult, to say the least. In the beginning, the man fired question after question, curious about every ingredient and spice going into the dish, but after realizing that he lacked the correct vocabulary to obtain the information he sought, he became a silent observer.

Basically, he followed me around like a lapdog while munching on another zucchini to occupy his restless hands.

After pulling him around left and right, occasionally giving a soft tug on the blanket when he would unintentionally zone out, I finally threw all the components into a single pan, deciding to serve a simple stir-fry. With only the expanse of the puffy fabric between us, I was constantly elbowing the hybrid while mixing the ingredients together, which I considered a redeeming form of payback for his carelessness with my arm.

While the mouth-watering scent of lunch wafted around, he extended the wrist connected to mine, sidestepping over to the island to fish for a bag of baby carrots before coming to stand next to me by the stove. Spotting my stare, he flashed another blinding grin and I couldn’t help but imagine long, bunny ears extending off the top of his head, his slender tail replaced with a fluffier ball of fur at the back. That seemed to better suit his ardent personality.

The chicken gradually changed colour as the exterior of the vegetables softened, and I brought the meal along with the chair by the fridge over to my tiny two-person table, prompting him to take a seat in front of the steaming plate. I expected him to ravenously dig in and devour every crumb, yet he refused to move a muscle, staring out the glass doors to the backyard and into the forest instead.

“I hurt.” He stumbled over his words, somberly bringing his gaze to my cocked brow. “No mean to hurt.”

Thinking back to the scuffle that seemed eons away at this point, I flashed a reassuring smile his way, explaining, “I get it, you were injured. Um, I was kind of mad at first because you broke my door and everything,” I offhandedly gestured towards the broken contraption, “but I forgive you.”

“No.” He clenched his jaw, analyzing the surface of the table as if the words he was searching for were etched on the surface. “Now. Sorry now, too.” To drive his point home, he delicately grabbed the arm not wrapped in the blanket, streaks of red decorating my wrist like a tight bracelet.

I hummed my understanding. “Ah, I told you it’s fine already,” I reassured, patting his hand.

Content at my acceptance of his makeshift apology, he began to dig into the chicken. His nose twitched at the unfamiliar taste, but he made no complaints. Anything was better than nothing, in the end.

I let him enjoy his food for a bit before asking, “Did you have a name? Something like J3?”

His eyes went back to scanning the outdoors, the sound of his chomping coming to an abrupt halt when he spotted a sad lump on the porch.

“Bud?” he inquired, the light glimmering in his irises.

The nickname stumped me, as I had difficulty imagining Hyunho or Minzy affectionately calling their experiment ‘bud’. “What are you talking about? Is that your name?”

His finger poked out to the cylindrical pile of tuna outside, then back to himself, “Bud.”

Befuddled now more than ever, I tried to laugh it off and nodded my head towards the plate again, silently advising him to continue eating.

Unfortunately, he didn’t seem too keen on evading the topic, whimpering in frustration at either my lack of understanding or his incapability of properly communicating due to the language barrier. His unending appetite was going to be put on hold for this. As he stood up, the chair behind him screeched, and he clutched on to the blanket, pulling me towards the back door.

Refusing to allow history to repeat itself, I rushed ahead to slide the hairband off and pushed the door open, allowing him to slip through. I figured that when the man drifted off to sleep tonight, I could replace the rapidly decaying tuna in hopes that my kitty would visit again.

While I was lost in thought, he undid the knot connecting the two of us and sprinted into the forest.

His back disappeared within the thickets fencing the towering maple trees and I froze in place, my jaw going slack in an ugly mixture of bafflement and betrayal, believing that he had simply taken advantage of my hospitality then ran off. Although, all attempts at making sense of the hybrid’s actions were cut short when familiar noises of horrifying, crackling sounds met my ears, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.

When the underbrush twitched, leaves fluttering from the movement of an animal hidden within their cover, a sinking feeling entered my chest. And that was the moment I met the vibrant, emerald eyes that had dug their own space within my heart.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook hybrid au #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagine #this chap gave me an aneurysm and a half

153 notes · View notes

starchildwannabe · 4 years ago

Text

Landing in New York

Genre: fluff

Pairing: bang chan x reader; side minlix

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: this fic is mostly just fluff but they also drink

Author’s notes: I wrote this based on a prompt generator to try to finish a full story. It’s unedited but I hope it’s not too bad! Also it’s short but I hope you like it :)

Summary: you meet Chan in New York on New Year’s Eve

2:58pm. I rub my eyes as the fatigue of 3 o’clock starts to slip in. How ironic (or cruel really) that New Years Eve was on a Thursday this year and that the deadline for this month’s project was today instead of next week. I let a slightly exhausted sigh escape from my lips as I finally look up from the computer screen.

“3 o’clock already,” a familiar voice on my left says prompting me to swivel my chair in their direction. A smile slips onto my face.

“You know what that means,” I say, holding out my hand to my lovely desk mate and exceptional best friend, Felix, who takes it without even slight hesitation.

It’d been a while since the honeymoon phase of working in a new place passed and both Felix and I started crashing around 3pm on workdays. It hadn’t been long, though, since we decided that the 3 o’clock fatigue meant stretching our legs and walking across the street to our favorite (by default) coffee shop to get a little pick me up. Today, however, I was more looking forward to the after work festivities rather than the assured line out the door of the Tom N Toms just for 3pm coffee. On December 31st in New York, everywhere was crowded no matter what time of day, and especially in Times Square from about rush hour on. So today was not a day you wanted to be stuck in the office after 5, let alone at all, but sacrifices had to be made for the dream of working and living so close to where the ball would drop at midnight.

When I step outside, already pulling my scarf tighter around my neck to escape the brisk wind and soft snow flurries, I’m surprised to see that the line hasn’t made it out the door yet and take that as a queue to get across the street as fast as possible.

“I’ll race you,” I say, giving Felix a mischievous look and a wiggly eyebrow.

“What are we, five?” He says giggling.

“No, six.” I say and take off across the crosswalk before the blinking green man changes to red. I glance over my shoulder when I get to the door of the Tom N Toms to make sure Felix actually made it across the street, and when I see him behind me, open it to reveal the warm air trapped inside the shop.

After waiting in the incredibly slow line for 10 minutes, we make it to the counter and give our order.

“You think Mr. Kim will be mad if we take a little longer than the usual 15?” I ask Felix and check my watch again as we walk toward the pick up counter to wait. Names are being called in the background, surely for other customers to get their orders, but I don’t really pay close attention because it’s too soon to be ours. I look up when Felix starts to reply, but I miss what he says because my attention is fully on a guy less than a few inches away from me holding an iced coffee in the hand closest to me and brace for impact because it’s too late to sidestep him. In less than a second I can feel coffee running down my shirt and thank God that it’s just cold and not scalding my chest instead.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” a panicked voice is saying as I awkwardly hold my shirt away from my body, “I didn’t even see you I don’t even know how that happened I’m really really sorry,” he says in a somehow even more panicked tone. I give an extremely awkward smile to try to lighten the situation and that’s when I actually take a second to look at the person frantically apologizing and all I can think is holy shit, is he beautiful.

“Ah, um, it’s okay,” is all I can manage to say because he’s shoving napkins at me. Then one of the staff with a mop is at the area where the coffee spilled and Felix is pulling me towards him and the boy is being pushed by the crowd the other way and the conversation ends before I can even ask him his name.

“Are you okay?” I hear Felix ask behind me and then the boy is gone because I turn my head to look at Felix instead.

“Yeah, I’m just a little uncomfortable, and coffee stained is all,” I make a mental note that I would probably be more upset if the person behind why I was covered in coffee was less attractive and then mentally kick myself for being shallow. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom to try to get this off, can you handle getting the drinks?”

“Yeah, dude, of course,” Felix says, and gives me a little push towards the bathrooms.

Fortunately, the rest of the hour and a half in the office passes without much problem. Unfortunately, I have to spend the rest of the afternoon and commute home with a horribly stained white button down. Fortunately, I have a coat to cover it when I go outside. Unfortunately, Felix hasn’t stopped talking about the boy that caused said stain since we made it back to the office, and as we’re walking out again at 5.

“But do you think you’ll see him again?” He’s saying for the 2nd time since I made it back from the bathroom in the Tom N Toms, “I think he was interested in you, and he was hot,” he adds and I sigh.

“I know,” I say in a pouty voice, “but like I said last time, I probably won’t. I’ve never seen him before today anyway, he could be a tourist for all we know. I mean, he did have an accent that was clearly Australian.” I look at Felix when I say the last part.

“Well I’m Australian and I live here,” he says, and adds, “I’m just saying,” when I give him a side eye.

“Well all I’m saying, is that it’s not likely.”

The conversation dwindles and then moves onto plans for that night and after about 10 minutes of walking and brainstorming the best way to get even remotely in Times Square without having to stand outside for the rest of the night the conversation somehow goes back to the coffee shop boy.

“You know, if he’s a tourist, he’s probably here for the ball drop,” Felix states. “And if he’s here for the ball drop, that means he’ll be somewhere in Times Square at midnight.”

“Who?” I ask even though I already know who he’s talking about.

“The boy.” He glances over at me and slits his eyes. “From Tom N Toms.” He deadpans.

“Felix, there’s going to be literally a million people in Times Square, maybe even more than that, we’re never going to run into him.” I sigh at the realization that we’ve been talking about someone, that I’m probably never going to see again, for the better half of the afternoon. “If we see him again, I’ll be convinced that he’s my soulmate.”

***

“I think if we leave now we’ll be able to be in the very very back,” Felix says from behind me. “And I’m sure if we squint, we’ll actually be able to see the ball drop.” I stop searching through my closet for a second to glance at Felix who’s casually sitting on my bed.

“Look it’s not my fault someone spilled coffee on my shirt.” I say and turn back to my clothes. From the other side of the wall, I could hear a slight pulsing from music that’s turned up too loud. “You’d think the owner would tell them to be careful about getting noise complaints.”

“Well it’s not like it’s illegal to rent out your place as an Airbnb anymore.”

“I mean I guess,” I glance down at my watch, “why are they even here still? If they don’t leave soon, they won’t be able to get anywhere near Times Square.”

“You’re telling me.” Felix says. I quickly grab a shirt and pull my coffee stained one over my head. Once I have the fresh one on, Felix stands and walks to the door.

“Wait,” I say and he turns his head in my direction. “Does this look okay together?”

“Yes, but I don’t see why it matters so much, your coat’s gonna be over it the whole time.” I turn my head towards my closet one last time. “Let’s just go.” Felix adds with a slight urgency in his voice.

“Okay, you’re right it doesn’t really matter.”

As I’m turning my key into the handle, I have a sudden urge to knock on the door next to mine and tell them to turn the music down, but I let it go because we’re leaving anyway and it’s their fault if they have to watch the ball drop from the very back of Times Square. I turn away from the door and give my watch one more glance as I head toward the stairs. 5:24pm. When I get the the stairs, Felix is already at the bottom of the first flight.

“We should get to the entry on 6th in less than 5 minutes, we don’t have to rush that much.” I say to his clearly urgent body language. He pauses for a second before replying and I lift my eyebrow.

“I, uh,” Felix hesitates, “kind of told someone we’d meet them at 6th at 5:30, but I didn’t think I’d mention it until we got there because I didn’t think it’d take this long to leave.” He lets the end drift off.

“Oh.” I say, “that’s fine, but like I wish you would’ve told me before. I would’ve spent less time changing.” An awkward laugh escapes, but I feel a genuine smile on my lips.

“Sorry,” he says and his hand comes up to rub the back of his head.

“Do I know them?” I ask to try to ease the tension.

“Oh, uh, yeah actually I think you’ve met one time.” Felix says and then adds, “but I don’t think you know his name.”

“And his name is—“ I say drawing out the last word.

“Minho,” I nod confirmation as he says it. “You were there, when we met.” I look at him with a confused expression. “It was a couple weeks ago at the bar,” when my expression doesn’t change he adds, “come on, you know, kinda tall, brown hair, cute nose, great laugh. I gave him my number?”

“And I was there?”

“Yes, you were there! You were literally sitting right next to me when this happened.”

“Wow, how drunk was I, jeez.” I shake my head a little and then say, “Well as long as he’s nice and doesn’t make things awkward for me, I don’t really care if I know him or not.” I chuckle and then look at Felix with pouty eyes, “but who am I supposed to kiss at midnight now?”

“Well it wouldn’t’ve been me anyway, so I guess that’s a personal problem,” he says and then gives a nice genuine laugh.

“I guess I’ll just have to go another year without a New Years kiss.” I feign despair and over exaggerate my sigh.

At exactly 5:32pm we make it to the entrance at 6th. We look around for a bit and then Felix jogs off toward someone that he recognizes. I stand awkwardly by myself as I witness their encounter, and confirm that Felix was right, he does have a cute nose. After maybe a minute, Felix turns around and walks back to me with Minho close behind.

“So this is Minho,” he says to me and I give a smile and wave to the boy standing behind him, and then he turns to Minho and adds, “she couldn’t remember you from the bar, can you believe that?” His laugh is light and fluttery, and I make a mental note to ask him about this later.

“You stole my midnight kiss,” I comment and wink at Minho and both boys’ cheeks flush pink.

“I, uh,” Minho’s voice is frantic and his eyes search Felix’s face for help.

“I’m just kidding,” I say and then laugh and pat Minho on the shoulder. I check my watch again. “I’d say we have like 20 minutes before they stop letting people in, so let’s make a quick bathroom stop and meet back here.” I say and then point toward a nearby building that I’m sure will let us in.

***

By the time the last hour of the year comes and is almost gone, and the sun has been gone for over 6 hours, the only thing that’s keeping me alive and not freezing to death in the brisk wind, is the sheer amount of people that are in Times Square (and also the alcohol that’s in my system from the very kind and very sneaky people standing next to us). Of course, Felix and I had forgotten to hide any booze in our coats before we left since we were rushed and now that I’m a little bit more than slightly intoxicated, I’m glad that we didn’t. I’m overly grateful for the people next to us, because they made the time pass while Felix was busy flirting with Minho next to him. Around 10 minutes before midnight, I could hear some commotion going on somewhere in the crowd in front of me, and then saw a small group of people making their way to the back of the crowd. As they passed by us, the people next to me said something like, “you know you can’t get out now, when it’s so close to midnight.” But they didn’t stop walking, just pointed vaguely behind us which seemed to be good enough for everyone. After that, the crowd shifted enough that Felix, Minho, and I got pushed away from the people next to us and into a new area of the crowd. I frown at the thought of not being by people I know anymore and push my coat back so I can look at my watch. 3 minutes to go. I look up at the ball on top of One Times Square and excitement floods my body. It’s almost to the bottom already.

I lean closer to Felix and Minho and ask, “Any last words before our lives change forever?”

Felix slightly rolls his eyes and then leans into Minho’s ear.

“She does this every year,” and then looks back at me and smiles and adds, “All I’m going to say is that I hope there isn’t an alien spaceship waiting for the last 3 seconds before midnight to blast us all off the earth.” Minho scrunches his eyebrows.

“He says that every year,” I say leaning toward Minho. Felix shrugs.

“It’s true though.”

“Minho?” I ask.

“Um,” he glances at Felix, “I hope that next year is at least as good as this year was.”

“Aw, wait that’s really nice, and a million times better than Felix’s” I say and clasp my hands by my chest. “I think for me, I hope that in—“ I glance at my watch again, “45 seconds I can get a New Years kiss.”

“Those are you last words of the year? Really?” Felix deadpans next to me.

“I don’t see the problem,” Minho says and shrugs.

I can hear someone around me yell “30 seconds,” and then the noise level of the crowd goes up from excitement and everyone’s eyes are glued to the ball ahead.

20 seconds. 15 seconds. 12 seconds.

At 10 seconds everyone starts to count.

9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4... 3... 2... 1...

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Everyone in the crowd is shouting happy new year to the people around them and before I can even blink I’m being pulled closer to someone in front of me and they’re whispering in my ear with an extremely familiar accent, “can I kiss you,” and I’m whispering back “yes” and before I can comprehend what I’m doing, a kiss is being pressed to my lips. All I can think in the moment is what chapstick do they use? because their lips are so pillowy and smooth. When I finally open my eyes and reorient myself with my surroundings I see none other than the boy from the coffee shop standing in front of me.

“It’s you!” I blurt out before I can catch myself.

He laughs a honey sweet laugh and then says, “Chan or Chris, either is okay.” And then he smiles so wide his eyes almost disappear entirely.

“Okay, Chan or Chris, why? How? What? I’m so confused.” I say.

“Clearly,” the honey sweet laugh comes again. “Just call me Chan,” he says and glances at Felix and Minho giving them a little nod. I look at Felix when he does this and notice that his mouth is hanging open and let out a chuckle at the sight.

He grabs my arm and pulls me towards him and then says loud enough for only me to hear, “so you meet again, it must be fate.” I roll my eyes and then he lets my arm go and holds his hand out in front of Chan and says, “I’m Felix, we met earlier but you were in a bit of a rush, I’m assuming.”

“Ah, yeah sorry about that,” Chan says, he grabs Felix’s hand and lets his sunny smile cross his expression once more. “I’m glad we met again,” he turns to me when he says this, “it was really getting under my skin that I didn’t get to apologize to you properly.” An awkward chuckle escapes his lips.

“Oh, no, no it’s no big deal at all,” I say more rushed than I intend, “I’m sure you were busy, with it being New Year’s Eve and all,” I give him a little wink and his smile grows even bigger. “Plus I can kind of tell that you’re not from here,” he looks at me with a confused expression, “I mean your accent is obviously not American.” I say with a laugh.

“Looks like you caught me,” he laughs and puts his hands up by his shoulders. Before he can say anything else, though, one of his friends is leaning into his ear and whispering something to him. I try to catch what they’re saying but it’s too loud around me to hear. At this point the crowd has dispersed into a much less dense one and there’s enough room around to move freely. I glance over at Felix and at the same time feel a slight brush at my hand before it’s grasped by someone else’s. I look up and Chan’s attention has fully returned to me.

“We’re gonna head back to our Airbnb now, but I’m wondering if you want to come?” He asks with a smile plastered to his face.

I look back at Felix to see his reaction and then say, “I want to, but I would feel better if my friends could come too?” Felix is nodding behind me and Chan slips a quick glance to them before turning back to me and smiling again.

“Yeah, of course, the more the merrier!” He says. The friend that whispered into his ear before taps his arm and gives a little jerk of his head when Chan looks over. He starts to lead us through the still thinning crowd to the entrance, and I notice that Chan hasn’t let go of my hand since he first grabbed it. When he looks back at me when we make it back to the entrance, I can feel my cheeks heating up and hope that it’s too dark to see them change color.

“So,” he starts to say, “if it’s so obvious that I’m not from around here, what’s your guess?”

“My guess?”

“Yeah,” he says, “where do you think I’m from?”

“Oh,” I pause for a moment, “well your accent is pretty similar to Felix’s, so I’m guessing Australia?”

“You’re pretty clever,” he says in return, “I don’t think I could ever get used to it being cold in December though.”

“Really? Then why come to New York during the coldest time of the year?”

“Well, it’s on everyone’s bucket list isn’t it?” He says and then adds, “to come to New York for New Year’s Eve.”

“Yeah I guess so, but I don’t really see the big deal. You can’t even go to the bathroom once you’re in the barricades.”

“Yeah I know,” Chan says with a sort of defeated tone in his voice, “I wish someone would’ve told me that before we got inside.” He trails the end with a laugh.

As we round the next corner, snow starts to lightly fall from the sky. Chan’s friends in front of us start to murmur to each other like kids seeing snow for the first time and I let out a small giggle at that. After about a minute or so the road goes back to the calmer atmosphere it had before, and I realize that we’re walking directly toward my apartment. I give Felix a quick glance to see if he’s noticed it too, and when our eyes meet he lifts his eyebrow at me. I shrug as if to say what’re the odds and then turn back to Chan who’s telling me that if he were in Australia today, he’d be wearing shorts and flip flops with a zero percent chance of snow in the forecast. Then he’s telling me about how he would probably be swimming too and I can’t help but wish I was somewhere warm while we’re walking down a freshly snow covered street.

“You know, I live really close to here,” I say at a break in the conversation.

“What? Really?” Surprise crosses Chan’s face.

“Yeah, actually it’s only like a minute away.” I say and then hear someone ahead of me say “We’re almost there!” in a bright tone. I lift my eyebrows when we head toward my apartment building instead of turning down the street. I point ahead and then add, “that’s my apartment building.”

“No way,” Chan says as we inch closer and closer to it. “I think that’s where we’re staying.”

“Very funny,” I say.

“No, I’m serious,” I search his face to see if he’s lying, but we reach the stairs and it’s enough to know that he’s telling the truth. “What floor are you on?” He asks as we climb the first flight.

“3.” He’s silent for a moment too long so I add, “you guys aren’t on 3 also, are you?”

“Actually,” he pauses, “I think it’s 304.”

Then tension sits in the air for a moment before I say, “you should really think about playing music will less bass.” Chan gives me a confused look, “I’m in 305,” I let a smile fill my lips when I say so.

“Wow, what a coincidence.” He thinks for a second, “wait, that’s actually pretty convenient.”

“Why?”

“Because you can go home whenever you want.” We reach the 3rd floor then and the door to apartment 304 is already being opened by one of Chan’s friends. When we get into the main room, it looks the same as mine except the furniture has a vintage 70s vibe and the couch in the center of the room is an ugly green color. There are two more rooms splitting off from the main one, and after counting the number of Chan’s friends I’m assuming they’re bedrooms with more than one bed in each of them. The only light other than the dimmed overhead light is coming from different colored hexagon tiles that are hanging on the wall. Before long, there’s music bumping through the speakers on the entertainment center. Chan has to lean into my ear before saying, “pretty cool isn’t it?” because the volume is up pretty loud. After he leans away, he holds up a beer in front of me and tilts his head. I grab it from him and give a soft smile.

“Thanks,” I say and then add, “it looks nothing like mine, apart from the layout.” Chan leads me over to the couch, we sit, and cheers glasses before both taking big swings from our bottles.

2 and a half beers and 3 shots of soju in he asks, “Do you like living in New York?”

I think for a while and then say, “Yeah, I didn’t grow up here, but I always liked the idea of moving to a big city so I applied to college here and when I moved for my freshman year I just kind of never left.” I shrug and take another drink from the bottle I’m holding.

“Aw wow, it’s cool that you got to reach your goal.” I give him a slightly skeptical look.

“I wouldn’t say it was really a goal, more like an idea that I liked.”

“Yeah but it’s still cool,” he pauses, “I’m thinking about moving from Australia, but I’m not sure where I would go,” he pauses again, “just an idea I like, I guess.” He shrugs this time and I clink my almost empty bottle to his. “You know what else would be cool,” he eyes me and leans a little closer than he probably would if he was completely sober, “if you showed me your apartment.”

I let out a genuine belly laugh, “that’s what cool is to you?”

“You bet,” he pops up from the couch and throws his hand out to me.

“Alright, if you want.” I take his hand, finish the last of my beer, and place the empty bottle on the coffee table in front of me before standing up. As we walk across the room, I catch Felix’s gaze and throw up a peace sign with my free hand. He pushes himself off of the wall he’s leaning on and walks over to me.

“Heading out?” He says into my ear.

“We’re just going next door,” I chuckle, “So, yes and no.” He glances back at Minho, who gives him a bright smile when their eyes meet.

“Well if you’re gonna ditch, I think we’re gonna head out too.” Minho nods from behind him and then inches close enough to rest his head on Felix’s shoulder. I lift an eyebrow at him and he raises both of his back at me two times in quick succession.

“Text me when you get home,” I say and smile.

“Wouldn’t think not to.”

When I turn back to Chan, he’s talking to one of his friends. After 10 seconds or so he looks at me with a grin on his face and says, “ready to go?” I nod and we head to the entrance.

It takes less than a minute for us to get fully inside and situated in the apartment next door. I flip on the lights and watch as Chan starts to wander into the living room.

“You’re right,” he says after a couple of moments of silence.

“I’m right?” I question from across the room.

“Yeah,” he turns to me, “that apartments nothing like yours.” He turns towards the doors the opposite wall. “But it feels like home.” I let out a muffled giggle and I can see his ears turning red before he whips around and adds in a rushed tone, “A home, a home, not my home, not my home at all, just a home,” my giggles escalates into a full laugh at his rambling. “Not that I don’t want it to be my home, just, uh, I’m trying to not be weird.”

“Aw really?” I say when I’ve composed myself, “I was hoping you’d move in.” I fake an exaggerated sigh and then continue laughing with Chan joining in. “You’re really cute when you’re flustered,” I say.

“Oh yeah, well,” he pauses for a moment and then says, “well, you’re just really cute.” He turns away from me and faces the doors again. “I’m gonna guess that the left one is yours.”

“Hmm, well, you would guess wrong.” I say and walk over to the door on the right side of the room. Chan gives a pouty expression and lets out a little “hmph”

“Does anyone live there?” He says pointing to the left.

“Yeah, but she’s out for the week on vacation for New Year’s Eve.” I glance over at her door and let out a little sigh. “Must be nice to have a job that lets you have the whole week off.” I push my door open and then lean on the door frame. “I do want to say, though,” Chan looks at me with a look of concern, “I don’t usually bring guys home with me the first day we meet, so—“ I let the end drop off.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting— I didn’t think we’d— uh,” Chan gives a cheeky grin, “yeah no worries.”

I walk into my bedroom and lay my keys on my dresser before sitting on the bed. Chan follows suit but spends quite a lot more time making his way to the bed because he’s preoccupied with looking around the room. When he’s finally satisfied he stops in front of my nightstand and bends halfway over to inspect the tiny cactus and succulent trio that’s in a small pot.

“These are cute,” he glances over at me and then back at the plants, “do they have names?” He asks in a genuinely curious tone.

“Oh, actually,” I pause for a moment to think, “no they don’t.”

My face falls slightly and I only notice because Chan is saying “oh no don’t worry it’s okay,” and turning his attention fully onto me and away from the succulents. We stare into each other’s eyes for a moment and then he peels his eyes away and I can see his cheeks dusting pink. “How about we name them together?” He asks.

“Okay,” I say and smile. Chan plops down on the bed and then let’s out a low hmmm.

“How about, Chan,” he says.

“Oh my gosh, no.” I say laughing.

“Okay, okay, how about we name this one,” a second slips by, “Tom.”

“What? Why Tom?” I ask.

“Because that’s where we first met each other.” He says with a contagiously sunny smile.

“Oh that’s right,” I say, “it feels like that was 2 weeks ago, but it was literally,” I check my watch, 3am, “12 hours ago.”

“Wow can you believe that?” He kicks his feet up, resting his legs on my thighs, and lays down on the pillows with his arms crossed behind his head. “What if we didn’t meet again?” He lifts his head slightly to look at me.

“I don’t know,” I say and then lift Chan’s legs up and move onto the bed to lay next to him. He turns his body to face me.

“Well I’m really glad we did,” he says, his tone soft and sweet.

“Me too.” He inches a little closer to me and rests his forehead on mine.

“Can I kiss you?” I nod in response and lean into his pillowy lips for the second time that night. The kiss is soft and innocent and it feels like something out of a dream.

“I don’t want to leave,” Chan lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Then don’t,” I say and connect our lips again but this time the kiss is much more rushed and wanting, full of unspoken desire. I can feel my cheeks heating up and at the same time Chan is rolling us over so he’s embracing me. Our kiss deepens into something even more raw and I have to pull away before I can’t help myself. He peppers tiny kisses all over my face and I can’t help but giggle.

“This might be a weird question, but can I sleep here?” He asks.

“I would love that,” I say and place one more quick kiss onto his lips before pulling out of his embrace. “But if you’re going to stay I’m going to change into some pajamas.”

104 notes · View notes

sickcyclist · 3 years ago

Text

This is the story of my day. It actually starts yesterday, when a heaven-sent rain swept in and cleared the smoke and cooled the air and tamped down the dust on the trails. I went on a bike ride because days like that are a gift. I have exercise-induced hypoxemia, which basically means that my oxygen drops when I exercise for reasons that we still don’t understand. Exercising with oxygen helps, but I still drop into the mid-80s. I knew I was too sick to ride and that doing so would make me much more sick, but I needed it for my mind so I was willing to sacrifice my body.

So that’s the first lesson of being sick. Everyone tells you that you have to be active and it will make things better and all you have to do is just push yourself hard enough. We’ve internalized this message to the point that many people believe sick people could get better if they just PUSHED. But that’s not always true. Sometimes pushing makes you worse. Sometimes it makes you much, much worse. And that can be true even if being active and pushing hard is something you love so much that it feels like it’s core to who you are.

I knew I would have to sleep for 12+ hours to make up for the ride, and I knew that I would have bad oxygen saturation stats because of it. And since I don’t have a real job, it should be easy to just take a lazy day (or week, or month) and get better, right? But actually I do have a real job and that job is to keep myself alive. It’s the job of a lot of us who are chronically ill, and it’s not a profession I would recommend. It’s not fun and it’s not rewarding and no one admires you for it and you’re not asked to speak to 5th graders on career day and you rarely get to move on to a newer, more interesting project.

Here’s what this particular day at work looked like for me. I woke up to a voicemail saying that my pulmonology appointment for Friday had been cancelled. I’ve been waiting to see a pulmonologist since March and was supposed to have an appointment weeks ago, but that was cancelled because the doctor quit two days beforehand. The other doctor in town couldn’t see me until the end of October, so I looked for a doctor in a bigger town hundreds of miles away. She comes highly recommended and in a way I’m happy because I strongly prefer female doctors, but for whatever reason she had to “clear her morning.” My new appointment is five weeks from now. I got off the phone and sobbed, which is not a good thing to do when your lungs don’t work. I probably could have toughed it up and avoided crying if I hadn’t worn myself down so much biking yesterday, but such is life.

I emailed my primary care provider asking for a note saying I could travel with my portable oxygen concentrator. I was supposed to get this letter from my pulmonologist, but now I won’t have a pulmonologist before I travel. The letter has to say that I use oxygen for sleep and activity, but it also has to specify that I won’t use oxygen on the plane. Which is a little funny because airplanes have extremely powerful oxygen-producing systems for emergencies, but they don’t like people who need oxygen because they don’t like the risk that comes with having sick people on board (think emergency landings). So people who need oxygen all the time need their own oxygen concentrator and battery power for the equivalent of 1.5x the time they will be in the air. I’m going on an 8-hour flight and it would cost about $400 to get strong enough batteries for that length. So I need them to let me carry my machine, which has lithium ion batteries that are otherwise prohibited. But in order to carry my machine I need to prove that I won’t be needing it.

I have a great primary care provider. I knew she would write the note. Easy peasy.

My next voicemail was from the specialty pharmacy that my insurance provider uses for certain drugs. I am allergic to a hormone all women produce as part of the menstrual cycle. This allergy is so severe that it has been responsible for 5 miscarriages, and it also means that I’m more miserable than usual for half the month. The good news is that all you have to do to stop it is take out your ovaries, but when you do that you go into full menopause. Which is not desirable because it increases your risk of cancer and osteoporosis and just overall mortality. Like not even from one thing. Just people who go into menopause early die early from all causes and we don’t know why.

That gives you some perspective on what the benefits have to look like in order for the cost-benefit analysis to still auger in favor of ovary removal. But since it is such a serious choice, you have to be sure. And the way you make sure is to stop your ovaries from working with a drug. The drug has hideous short and long term side effects, so if you feel better while taking it, that’s a pretty strong sign that an oophorectomy is the choice for you.

Approval for me to receive this particular drug was in limbo because the provider accidentally entered the wrong diagnosis. I have, as you can imagine, a lot of diagnoses. Entering the wrong diagnosis in this case was particularly funny because I’ve spent the last 6 months fighting with Blue Cross to get an expensive medicine that helps with my allergies. This medicine (Xolair) is approved for chronic urticaria (hives). It is not approved for progesterone hypersensitivity. I have both, which means I itch a lot for two weeks of the month and itch so much that I want to peel my skin off for two weeks of the month. Blue Cross argued that I wanted the drug for progesterone hypersensitivity. No medical provider said that, but it was the diagnosis they could use to deny the drug. Xolair costs $4000 a month. At that price it’s worth it to them to grind people down and hope they give up. It took four appeals and my lawyer (husband) to get the drug approved because I do indeed have chronic urticaria. It’s worked wonders for me, especially being allergic to the sun. You have no idea how easy it is to descend into madness when you are itchy all the time.

I went over all this with my new OB. I explained that, while the allergy shot solved the itching, it didn’t fix any of my systemic problems, which is why I was still interested in removing my ovaries. And because the conversation focused on how this ovary-suppressing drug (Lupron) specifically wasn’t for urticaria, it’s perhaps not surprising that she accidentally listed urticaria as the reason for the prescription. It’s like when you’re afraid you’ll mispronounce someone’s name. You tell yourself, “Say Kee-a, not Ky-a,” so many times that you’re basically guaranteed to call the person Ky-a.

So my ovary medicine was denied, of course, but I contacted my doctor’s office last week explaining the problem and they were very quick to apologize and resubmit. I returned the call from the specialty pharmacy but apparently they had just wanted to let me know that they were sorry for the delay. It was very polite of them but maybe didn’t require a phone call.

Then I got an email from Blue Cross Blue Shield. I logged in to read that coverage had again been denied (no reason stated) and that if I wanted to appeal the decision I would have to appeal through their specialty pharmacy. They gave me the name and number. Of a different specialty pharmacy than the one I had been dealing with for the past month. The one that I had already wrangled account numbers and diagnosis codes and special customer service phone lines out of. I typed up a polite response inquiring why I need to change pharmacies. And then I cried, but only just a little this time.

Then I called Walgreen’s because my medication for muscle spasms had been delayed and I received a note saying the pharmacist needed to speak to me. I am hypermobile so my connective tissue is just a little too bendy. My joints slip in and out all the time and my muscles have to overwork to hold my body together. Frequently they overwork so much that they lock up. This happens much more frequently in the progesterone-dominant phase of my cycle. Physical therapy is the best treatment, but sometimes I need muscles relaxants before I can even start physical therapy.

The man I spoke to at Walgreen’s told me I didn’t have a prescription for that drug. Then he told me I had a prescription but it had expired in March of 2020. I knew that wasn’t true because I hadn’t used it for years but had to start again when I got COVID. So I had no prescription in March of 2020 but I definitely did in March of 2021. No big deal. Just a simple computer error. Totally understandable in a pandemic, and I knew my doctor would refill it anyway. But he apparently felt that it was a big deal and wouldn’t submit the refill to my provider. I have no idea why. Maybe he thought I was engaged in drug-seeking behavior. Or maybe he was having a bad day. But he wouldn’t submit the refill. I hung up the phone and screamed. Loudly. Which really is not a good thing to do when your lungs don’t work.

Murry came up and rubbed the spasm out of my shoulder and listened to me vent and offered to be my medical power of attorney so he could deal with these people for me. But he’s the one with the real job that earns real money and when I’m sick he also cooks and cleans and does the shopping and walks the dogs. I may not be any good at the shitty job I had, but there’s no way I’m going to make him do it.

I switched tactics and chatted with someone through the Walgreen’s app. He was lovely and had no problem submitting my prescription for a refill. Easy peasy.

My final task for the day was calling to find out about the status of my CPAP prescription. I don’t have sleep apnea but while I’m asleep my breathing does slow down significantly enough that my oxygen drops (hypopnea). I need a special CPAP that adjust the pressure to my breathing, but it will get me off of oxygen at night. I’m very excited for it.

My insurance does not require prior authorization for CPAP prescriptions. However, St. Pete’s has its own prior authorization department that I guess makes sure you are not lying about not needing prior authorization? This department is, apparently, understaffed. I called my oxygen “rep” to find out how it was going. She very kindly bypassed the prior authorization department and called Blue Cross directly. Blue Cross informed her, as had I, that a prior authorization was not necessary. She could officially get me a CPAP.

Except that there is a national CPAP shortage. So she will try her best to get me one as soon as they get more. Hopefully this month. Even the rare, wonderful people who try to help you are sometimes as helpless as you.

I didn’t cry this time. Crying doesn’t fix anything and I can’t risk losing more oxygen. So I turned to writing therapy instead.

This was a bad day at work, but there are rarely good ones. It sucks to be sick, but I’m smart, articulate, overly educated, wealthy, and white. It could suck so, so much more. Someday I’ll turn all of this knowledge that I never wanted into something that helps people other than myself. Until then maybe someone will read this and know they are not alone. If being sick is your job, I see you. I would give you a hug—or a bonus!—if I could.

#lupus #chronic illness #hypermobility #connective tissue disease #exercise hypoxemia #progesterone hypersensitivity #health care efficiency #health insurance navigation #immunocompromised #biking with oxygen #care coorination

3 notes · View notes

orangegreet · 3 years ago

Text

No Minor Miracles | Chapter 8

On the Other Side of the Fold | Part Two

In which we learn just how it is that the Sun Summoner got herself so deep in this shit.

Everything about this was wrong.

The gathered crowd cheered and wept as they looked at her. Alina caught faces of people she knew but her mind could not place them.

Nothing felt real. Her hand was limp in Zlatan’s and her insides were caving in.

She had thought the knowledge that she would not ever actually marry him would be enough to sustain the illusion. Pushing through would be easier if she knew she would never have to kiss him, would never have to pretend she enjoyed his touch.

It was not enough.

Her chest pulsed. Anguish. Agony.

She recognized it, of course, but was surprised it was not only her own that she felt.

And then her eyes found Aleksander’s across the square.

Their tether was amplified and energized from their week together and in that moment she felt as if she was projected forward, standing directly in front of him.

Every inch of his face and his body and his soul was exposed to her and she did not deserve the honor of it.

She was broken and confused and she felt like a child in her naivety.

Did she know he would not come after her? Is it not what she would have done for him?

This was not what she had planned for when she began this day. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when things began to fall apart.

____________________________

Roughly Three Years Ago

The resolve she felt to leave Aleksander alone was not soothing. The image of him, prostrate and half mad on his bed on a winter night, replayed in her head over again.

She needed him. She could not be with him right now.

She wanted to be. It was not fair to him to stay at arm’s length all the time.

Restless and agitated, Alina sent herself on trips around the West, hoping to alleviate the pangs of longing—or at least distract herself from it.

It was one thing to have spent a whole decade without him. She was so young when they first met. So certain in her opinion of good and evil. Of right and wrong.

He hurt her then and she spent a decade licking her wounds and holding herself above him, apart from him.

During that time she had mostly focused on the negative feelings she harbored. Half crazed with intrusive thoughts of him, of his voice and his touch and his very being, she endeavored to convince herself of his ambivalence toward her.

He did not want her for herself as a whole—he wished only to harness her power.

Living in that lie allowed her freedoms she would otherwise withhold from herself. She indulged in everything she wished and denied herself nothing.

Heartache at leaving behind her Shadow Summoner—her equal and her opposite in life—a man who apparently wanted nothing but her power for himself, granted her permission to dive deep into an emotional numbness.

There, she found, she could indulge in every manner of pleasure available. She entertained multiple partners, explored new depths of her powers, practiced an autonomy previously unknown to her.

She was free and untethered.

At the root of this numbness, the thing which made it all truly unbearable, was that everyone around her, her friends and her cohorts, deeply loathed the Darkling.

For many of them, he was a ruthless General who called them to give their lives for him without any promise of peace.

Forced conscription was not a desirable outcome for these soldiers who eventually became deserters of his Second Army.

He ordered them to give their lives, to sacrifice themselves in Ravkan wars and he promised it would be worth it for the life they would gain.

But too many of his soldiers saw only death and destruction. Too many felt their early grave would cheat them of the life they were promised.

Others, worse still, were victims to his spies and enforcers. Devoted Second Army soldiers (for there were ten times as many loyal servants as there were impassioned deserters), did their part excavating Grisha refugees from hiding in order to ensure no one dodged the draft.

Young children, ripped from the arms of their families and sent to the Little Palace. It was cruel to witness. Cruel to live.

Alina sat, arms looped over a distraught mother, fresh to the loss of her child—and she felt shame.

Shame because she could not find a fury for the Black General.

What she found instead was a soup of feelings, stewed together and luke warm. Where was her rage? Her sense of justice?

She felt only confusion and defense. Love and loyalty tangled across lines in the sand.

No one shared her views. No one was safe to speak with about them. No one would entertain a conversation on the possible virtues of the Darkling.

Ten years passed this way.

_________________________

Her doubts had been growing for a while.

Her memories of him reformed, casting him in a new light and she began to consider a harder truth to swallow after nearly a decade of dismissal: the Darkling, the Shadow Summoner—the Black Heretic, had been just as madly in love with her as she had been with him.

They were eternal. She knew this—this was a concrete fact to which she would hold tight. Eternal. Inevitable.

One day it would be just the two of them.

Alina found that was the only true relief for her loneliness.

Then Aleksander called her to him at that army outpost and together they melted into the bliss of reunion and acknowledged the truth of their fate.

Alina felt so full for the first time. Everything was coming to rights. At last.

That anxious fiery feeling that she harbored always inside herself was soothed and quelled with the introduction of his patient, cool darkness and she felt that, finally, she was at peace.

Aleksander did want her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. All that was left was to let the pieces fall in place. Time.

Now she knew, she could work toward that Inevitable.

Speed it up. Help it along.

_____________________

Alina was reenergized in her operations and strategized her next moves. If she could get her people set up on their own, self-sufficient and motivated without relying on a Sun Summoner, she could be free.

It was time to begin the next phase—expansion.

For too long, her group struggled to maintain alliances in Kerch and in West Ravka. The place where people should be most enlightened and sympathetic to the plight of Grisha, refugees struggled to flee without risking captivity. Without risking death.

Fjerda chased them south and Shu Han shooed them further West and slavers packed them onto ships and delivered them to Kerch.

Their operation had grown under her leadership. They had the people and the training to establish strongholds in more places than just Novyi Zem.

Her hope for what was to come, for a life with Aleksander, at his side, buoyed her into her next mission.

It was time to establish a presence in West Ravka and with the help of Nikolai, she was ushered into the caring home of upper class sympathizers. Do-gooders who believed in rights for all people.

Their own son was Grisha; a tide maker who worked under a ‘Captain Sturmhond.’

For upperclass people such as themselves, it was the best they could hope for given the political climate in West Ravka.

The winds were changing and on this side of the Fold, the public was growing confident in their prejudice against Grisha.

Ignorance and hate which only grew under the influence of the growing Secessionist Party.

_____________________

When Alina met the General of the First Army, it was well before he became General.

At the time she had paid little attention to him. He was nothing more than a Commander—one who should have been sidelined by Xenia. Then by Xenia’s father.

The blushing Commander Zlatan should have been married off to her beautiful friend and host. He should have retired from the Army and been pushed into his wife’s family business.

A lucrative career managing exports with posh comforts at home and gorgeous, lovely wife to adore.

Zlatan never would have risen in the ranks. Never would have become the blight that he was now.

She still remembered the supper party when it all fell apart. When Zlatan was dismissed and would never again be invited into their home. His courtship with Xenia effectively nullified.

“A sun summoner?” Alina had said, picking up the line of conversation started by Commander Zlatan to Xenia’s father at the head of the table.

He had mentioned the phrase indirectly and Alina was just nervous enough to risk a faux pas by bringing it to the attention the entire table. “I did not realize you were a religious man, Commander."

He frowned, “Indeed, I am not. However, the rumors I’ve been hearing around the city have given me pause. Scattered eye witness accounts followed by bodies burnt to a crisp. Ghastly sun burns in the shape of a human hand over their mouths.”

The women at the table gasped and the Commander apologized, “I do not mean to speak in poor taste, ladies. Pardon me. I sometimes forget I am not on base. I will endeavor to make the switch to a more sensitive nature.”

His declaration was met with a polite nod from Xenia’s mother and Xenia herself. However, Alina could not abandon the topic so easily.

“How can we be sure this is the work of a fabled Sun Summoner? I am sorry to sound skeptical—but my education keeps me hesitant to lean in to such rumors.” Alina answered with a decisive nod.

"What do you propose it is?” Zlatan eyed her curiously. As usual, Alina found herself squirming under his gaze. Something in it was unsettling.

“Weapons, Commander. Nations at war bring about the most gruesome technology.” She said simply.

“If not that, why not a rogue Inferni Grisha? I suppose because it is much less sensational, it is not something the public would like to accept.”

“No, they do want to believe this is proof of a Sun Summoner.” He took another drink from his goblet and lowered it. “As I am not in religious company I will share that I do not hold much hope for a Sun Summoner myself. Even if there were such a creature, the Fold is an opportunity that cannot be wasted.”

Xenia’s father looked dismayed. “Surely you do not speak of secession, Commander?” Xenia was frowning, shuffling in her seat.

“Come now, Daniil. Let us not be naive. We all know that West Ravka could be a stronger country—a greater one—if were not expected to keep sending our goods and money through the abyss of the Fold. We cannot remain dependent on the crown while this obstacle divides our country. Secession is the only solution.” A servant stepped forward to refill the goblet of the Commander.

“Your points may have some merit, but surely you cannot expect this to be seen through. We have no allies to secede.” Daniil leaned forward in his chair, impressing his point with a finger to the table.

Daniil continued, “Any allegiance we could win on our side would put another country in jeopardy of going to war with the crown in Os Alta. Or worse, they risk being caught up in funding a civil war for us. Who do you expect will risk a war?”

Daniil was hiding his dismay quite well given the circumstances and decorum which the occasion warranted but Alina knew him well enough to think he had become quite disturbed by this turn of events.

“There is no risk to worry about if the proposed ally is currently at war with the old country, Daniil.” The Commander sounded positively smug.

Alina’s heat bristled through her body. Fjerda. He would have us align with Fjerda.

“You cannot mean—“ Danill began, asking the question about to burst from her lips.

“Fjerda has the resources and the weapons to outfit our men. They are already at war and the Tsar is barely keeping them at bay. If we ally ourselves with them, we could leverage the might of our army and theirs and gain independence from the East.”

Daniil sat back in his chair.

His eyes flicked to his daughter who was wearing her pain quite plainly. Alina held her hand under the table.

“And when Fjerda demands entry to roam West Ravka for Grisha?” Daniil asked. “To turn out houses and homes in search of them. To try them as ‘witches’ in the city square—how will the newly established West Ravkan government respond?”

The Commander blushed. The red tinging his entire face spoke to the amount of wine he consumed. “Well, allegiance bought must be paid somehow, Daniil. This is war, after all.”

Xenia, of all people, got to her feet.

The Commander looked startled to see the tears on her face.

“The way you cast the lives of people at the feet of monsters does not make you cunning. It makes you a monster. I would like for you to leave now.” Her eyes shifted to her father’s who nodded and rose from his chair.

Xenia left the room. The Commander was never invited back.

________________________

Alina did not see him again for a couple years. Neither the commander, nor Aleksander whom she was still on a freeze out with—as they agreed.

She filled her time traveling around West Ravka, visiting orphanages and villages.

Praying for the people, delivering food and supplies—it was an excellent cover for finding Grisha in hiding.

Helping funnel them through the proper channels to get out of the West now that Secessionist lunatics were rising up against them.

Secessionists did not separate a common Grisha from a Second Army soldier. In their eyes, all Grisha who were citizens of Ravka must eventually be conscripted and would ultimately be used by the Tsar to fight them in the impending Civil War.

The people did not know they had a Sun Summoner in their midst. To them, she was merely Anya—Sankta Anya as she was increasingly named.

Her reputation preceded her and when she visited a village, people cheered and rallied around the Mother of Ravka.

She prayed and dying crops came back to life, revitalized whole fields as if the feeding power of sunlight were injected back into their stems by her prayers alone.

Through the power of her persuasion and charm, she arranged a new eco-system in every village.

With the crop lands producing double their share, the farmers had more wealth. Anya—Santka Anya—asked only in payment that they proceed to donate a percentage of their wealth and resources toward lifting up the orphans and sickly members in their community.

What farmer would dare go back on their word? If they did, would they not see their crop begin to fail? It was too great a risk.

This simple act boosted the economies, lifting the lowest class into a livable state of being.

Sankta Anya brought with her reason and prayer and she left behind harmony and abundance. And the people loved her for it.

____________________________

It was in one such town, that she sat at the table of a nobleman who employed half the village with work weaving and stitching sailcloth for the West Ravkan Fleet.

In this home she came across Commander Zlatan again. A man whom she had not seen in two years—not since that night when he revealed himself as a Secessionist and showed the depth of his evil.

Alina was quite chilly toward him the entire evening which, to her consternation, the Commander seemed to find quite amusing.

He eyed her like rabbit caught in a trap and it wasn’t until the dinner had ended that she received another shock from him.

Zlatan had cornered her in the sitting room where she waited for her escort to fetch the borrowed coach which would return her to the town.

“It has been a pleasure seeing you again, Anya. You really do look well.” Alina looked around the room, wishing dearly for an escape but there was no one.

Only she and Zlatan.

“You are too kind, Commander, really.” She turned away from him, eyes expectant on the door.

“Forgive me for my haste but I do not know when I will get the chance to see you again.” Zlatan said.

Alina turned a sharp expression on him, taking a step back as she did so.

“It has taken a while to catch up to you, you see. It seems you travel farther and faster than a bird’s migration and I am embarrassed to say I have been chasing you for quite a while now.”

Alina turned up a corner of her mouth and then glanced back toward the door, “Well best say your piece, Commander. I am quite tired and will not wish to delay once the coach arrives.”

Zlatan laughed, as if that is precisely what he expected her to say.

“Very well then. Typically I would not wish to rush such a task but you leave me little choice. I wished ask if you are betrothed.”

The words landed with a thud between them and Alina stared at him in shock.

“And, if you are not, I next mean to ask if you have taken a vow of celibacy.”

He looked as confident as he had the entire conversation.

“Beg pardon, Commander, but what business is it of yours?” She said, hardly able to keep the sneer out of it.

He chuckled and smoothed a hand over his hair.

“Well, you see, if you are neither betrothed and are willing to marry—well…I had thought perhaps you might be willing to hear an offer of marriage from me.”

Alina blinked rapidly and then turned away from him.

Emotions surely were playing across her face and it would not do for him to see and guess at any of her thoughts.

Alina did think of course, of Aleksander. In fact, the Commander was all but forgotten as she allowed herself to dwell on the man she was trying to leave alone at the moment.

Anything to remove herself from the here and now.

The Commander was making quite a name for himself and his outspoken political views across West Ravka. If Aleksander had heard any of the whisperings about this man in the last couple of years—well there could not be another man who was a perfect foil of her Shadow Summoner.

Elite and high-ranking army member, rising leader of the Secessionist Party and someone who gave no regard for any Grisha, friend or foe. Perfect opposites.

They would destroy each other if given the chance.

She longed for Aleksander and for one insane moment, she thought to tug on their tether and see if he would come to her. Witness this catastrophic event for himself.

Alina righted herself—the fear of what she had almost just done knocked her back into reality and she turned back to Commander Zlatan. The blushing man she met a couple years ago all but erased and replaced with this cocky militant.

“Why would you want to marry me, Commander? You hardly have a shortage of suitable matches—many women who would bring you money and status.”

“Indeed.” His eyes glimmered at hers and nausea swept through her gut, “Those women may be suitable for my station now, perhaps. However, for what I am to become I need someone more… Saint-sent.”

Alina quirked a brow but said nothing.

“You see, Anya,” He condescended, “It is no secret that General Balakin is getting on in years. There is talk among the ranks that he is on his way out—”

He cut himself off. Allowing a finger to pull at his own cuffs to cover his nerves.

“To speak quite plainly, you have the love of the people.”

A bitterness stole over his features, “‘Sankta Anya’. Had I known the night we met how that title would stick…”

He did not finish his thought.

When she did not speak he added, “I’m not doing a very good job of selling this to you, am I?”

“You’re not. Perhaps you’ve forgotten the circumstances under which we met but I have not.”

“Ah. I was more naive then.” His eyes flicked to the floor, “Xenia was a wonderful woman—is a wonderful woman, I am sure, but we did not see eye to eye on important matters.”

Alina thought to show him her power right then and there.

The desire to see him quake in his uniform and bow before her celestial starlight was compulsive. She would have him on his knees right there before she burned him through.

She remained stubbornly composed.

“In any case, Commander, what sort of woman would it make me to betray the trust of a once dear friend and confidant?”

“Please cease your coy attitude, Miss, and let us speak frankly.” Zlatan demanded.

Alina blinked at him.

“I will ascend as the General of the First Army before the years end. Where General Balakin threatened and teased a plan for secession for years, I will make good on that deliverance.”

He held the lapels of his uniform, head up high, “I would do so better with you at my side. Should you find me so abhorrent that you would not consider a more intimate relationship, I will be satisfied in a political marriage—partnership, even, with you.”

“You presume I wish to partner with you. I assure you, I do not.”

“It is the people who will be served by our union. Surely you see that, Anya.”

She bristled at the implication. At the way he so clearly spoke only of the otkazat’sya. Forget the people who he would leave to ruin—her true people.

“You speak so casually about undermining the rule of a Tsar and claiming half a country in your own name.”

“No!” Zlatan stepped forward. She stepped back.

He held his hands up in placation, “Not my name. The name of the people. Our people in West Ravka—they deserve better than what we have been served on this side of the Fold.

“With you at my side, the common people will be assured of our leadership through what is to come—even if it is civil war.”

They both knew it would assure a civil war and yet he continued to condescend her. “They trust your good nature, Sankta. They will follow your rule.”

Alina turned away from him.

This changed everything. How this opportunity could have fallen into their laps—it was unheard of.

She could not look at him. The Council would have to know—and soon.

“Very well. I will think it over. I require time to pray to the Saints for guidance.”

She could hear the eye roll occurring behind her back.

“Of course. At the Saints mercy. Will a month be enough?”

Her panic spiked.

“I cannot say for sure. We will start at a month.”

Zlatan was silent and then stepped closer to her.

“Very well. I will be back in the capital a few months time. Perhaps we can speak then. I will not change my mind and you will have an opportunity to truly consider the good we could do. Together.”

Alina nodded but did not look at him.

Dread had filled her up and the only relief was in that persistent hollow she found in her chest.

The space where she and Aleksander were once connected.

_________________________

It was the very next night that Alina received her wish.

Aleksander finally called to her.

She had hoped to receive clarity.

She had hoped to get in insight somehow.

Alina was ready to do away with her secrecy and let Aleksander into her plans.

Now. It was time.

Alina was ready to be his comfort and would be willing to beg for his in return—was unable to survive longer without it.

He called to her and she disappeared into their ethereal connection with haste and a tender hope.

To stumble upon the scene—her truest love, her heart tie, deep in the throes of what could only be called desperate love-making…she felt her insides squelch. Eviscerated into nothing.

His passion—Saints! his passion—it stole the breath from her lungs and the power inside her flickered in futile resistance.

She was a hollow, gutless, aching shell.

____________________________

The images plagued her for months after, following her when she closed her eyes. Forcing her to doubt what she was so sure of once.

It interrupted her thoughts, peppering the conversation. The very important conversation which would decide her fate.

“It is a good plan, Alina.” Artur’s words pierced her reverie.

“This is better than we could have hoped. The opportunity this has afforded us—it is practically divine.” He did not bother to keep the excitement out of his voice.

Artur, speaker of the Council, held no more weight in the decisions than any other member. And yet it was he would receive her ire first.

“I will not be sold off as a bride to that Grisha-hating otkazat’sya.” She hissed.

“You will do what the Council decides. We are a democracy, Alina. You may be the Sun Summoner but you took an oath to bend to the will of the Council. Are you breaking your vow now?”

The other members shifted uneasily and Alina implored them all, sparing no one from her gaze.

“This council never used to take liberties like this—not over individuals and not over me. Whose idea was it to bring this to a vote—to take this decision away from me entirely?”

No one answered.

At first.

“I called the vote, girl.” Baghra volunteered with almost a bored expression on her face.

“Someone had to make a move. You were going to let an opportunity slip right through your inexperienced hands.”

“You of all people have no right to make these calls over my life.”

Baghra who ruined her life once would seek to ruin it again.

“You are still a child. You know nothing of the world—not like I do. Marrying Zlatan will put you in the appropriate position to take control of all West Ravka when the time is ripe—”

“Zlatan is a loathsome scoundrel and throwing my support behind him is akin to selling my very soul and all Grisha along with it.” Her hand hit the table.

“Zlatan will not dither.” Artur interjected. “He will be General within the month and he will make his move to secede within the year. It is smart of him to secure you at his side. He knows you have pull over the common people.”

Alina turned her fury back to him, “Yes and he will exploit it and crush the common people for his own gain.”

She glanced around the room, “We know this is true. We cannot consider condoning it.”

Still no one spoke.

“Nevertheless, he will secede.” Artur began again, “West Ravka wants him to do so. If he goes away, another will step in to take his place. The Secessionist Party will not be silenced, they will only be strengthened by a martyr to their cause.”

Alina began to shake her head but Artur cut her off, “The people want this, Alina. Someone will make it happen. If not Zlatan, then someone else. He is the enemy we know. We are fortunate that we know him well."

Baghra opened her mouth again, “We are fortunate that it is you he wants, Sun Summoner.”

Pabel would never have let this happen.

She wished she could speak to Aleksander. She wished she did not feel so alone. She wished she had stayed with him when she first met him.

Let him use her the way he said he would, even.

Anything would be better than this.

Artur was in full war-planning mode again, gathering nods from the Council as he met their eyes. “We let Zlatan do the dirty work of secession. Let him divide the country. Kalem is in place to take out the Tsar and the crowned prince at our direction. Nikolai will be forced to give up his alias and ship and take the throne at Os Alta.”

Alina was shaking her head again.

When had all of this moved so quickly? Had everything occurred in her absence? Was she simply a pawn for the Council now? Currying favor and love from the common people while they plotted and planned and ruined her behind closed doors?

“Yes, Alina. The Shu are making alliances with the Tsar now. They will upend the entire Second Army and no Grisha will be safe in the entire country.”

Alina pinched the bridge of her nose as old Georgy’s voice croaked from across the table, “Nikolai will step up to the throne. At last we will have a true Grisha ally on the throne in Os Alta, Alina. At last.”

The words from Pabel’s oldest friend and partner fell heavy around them. Her heart was shattering further at the sting.

When would she be allowed to decide what was right for herself?

She wondered, if her heart had not already been broken by Aleksander—if she could believe she still had him to fight for—would this go differently?

Would she feel able to truly fight back with the full might of a Solstice Sun instead of cowering like a wilting camomile in snow?

Tears welled in her eyes.

Her voice was so small.

“A Grisha ally for the throne in the East and a monster of a dictator for the West. A dictator propped up by me!” She pointed at her chest. “Propped up by this entire council! A shiny new tyrant for all Grisha on this side of the Fold!”

It was hysterical and she knew it but she could not stop herself.

“Zlatan will never work with Nikolai! He is getting in bed with Fjerda as we speak. We know this story.”

She pleaded with them, “We know what is next. Grisha hunted—Grisha enslaved. West Ravkans will have incentive to turn on their Grisha neighbors and the blood will be on our hands!”

Finally, blessedly, she saw doubt begin to show around the table.

Then Baghra spoke again, “Once Zlatan has begun the secession and you are established at his side, we will take him out.”

Alina glared at the woman. Swaying the others back under her will.

The same way she swayed Alina once upon a time.

“You have the love of the people, Sankta Anya.” Artur added, “You, not Zlatan. He needs you.”

“And when Zlatan dies, what do you expect people will do? What do you expect people will think of me?"

“No one will fault you or accuse you of blood on your hands.” Tolya said, thoughtfully. Another betrayal. “You will take up his mantle and lead West Ravka as you were meant to do.”

“You will look the perfect picture of a Saint as you do it.” Baghra again. “You will have suffered for Ravka. You will have lost your husband and the people will adore you all the more for it.”

“Then, when the time is right, you will extend an olive branch of hospitality to Nikolai.” Artur advised. “The newly installed Tsar who cannot afford a civil war right now. He will protect the Second Army.”

“But the Shu—” Alina protested.

“The deal with Shu Han and their Princess will be null under the death of the crown prince.” Baghra said almost impassively. “Nikolai will need the Second Army to fight. He will not let them fall to harm.”

Baghra gave Alina a significant look.

Aleksander would be safe. Nikolai would ensure it. He would not fall under the ire of yet another Tsar.

Alina wanted to leave. It was too much and she felt they were relying on several variables as if they were hard facts. It was not advisable.

“It is you, Alina.” Baghra said, meeting her eyes and looking more reasonable than she had ever been. “You will be the beacon of hope at last for all Grisha.”

“The Secessionists will find out I am Grisha—that I am the Sun Summoner. How will they feel about that? Will they put a stop to their Fjerdan brethren? Will they suddenly extend a neighborly hand to Grisha after years of hate and prejudice?” She asked helplessly.

She waited for a rebuttal.

The group did not disappoint.

“At the right moment, we will reveal your true gifts. We can make it look as though the Saints have blessed you with the power of the Sun before whole crowds of people.”

“We will have you shine your powers upon the Fold. If you cannot take it down entirely, you can at least blast a part of it away.” Artur said.

“The point is not what exactly you do to the Fold.” Baghra waved a hand away, “The point will be the story: People will believe they witnessed a miracle. They need not know you were born with this gift. We will sell them a better tale. That through your goodness and mercy to people, the Saints chose you as the vessel of sunlight.”

“I suppose Zlatan will not be around for this little demonstration? His little wife revealed as Grisha—he would be forced to make a stand and we know where he will stand.” Alina was growing weary.

She wished for everyone to be gone. She wished to be gone.

The world was entirely too cruel to house them all in it. She should obliterate them all.

It would be a nice thing to burn so bright for so long. Maybe there she would find peace.

Baghra dismissed this with a wave, “Zlatan will be long dead by the time you are revealed. His prejudices will not come to fruition.”

The room grew quiet. It seemed everything was finally laid out and they would all deliberate before the vote.

“Are we done for the evening? I require time to think.” Alina said.

Artur looked around and nodded to the group who began to disperse. The plot points swirled around her head and Alina gave in, getting to her feet and walking to the window.

“It is a good plan, Alina.” Tamar said, timid. Alina closed her eyes, tears falling from them as her last ally in the room fell.

“I know it is not ideal and I do not want to see you married off to that scum any more than you do. But you cannot deny the plan is good.”

“I do understand, Tamar. I am taking it all into consideration. It is just, agreeing to this is a larger commitment than you know.” Aleksander rolled through her mind on a loop, Alina continued, “I will not be compliant for the sake of it.”

Tamar put a hand to her shoulder and then left.

Artur stood behind her. Alina could see him through the reflection in the mirror.

“The Council will reconvene tomorrow morning to cast their votes.” He was wringing his hands, “Alina, we will count your vote as a no and…I would request you not attend the meeting.”

She turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “I am banned from meeting with the Council now? A meeting which will decide my fate?”

“We feel that in order to get the most honest votes, it would be better if everyone felt less…conflicted.” Artur said.

He took a breath and stood up straighter. “They have heard your objections and should you wish to voice them again before the vote, you are welcome to deliver them in the opening minutes.

“However, it would be better for the council members and for you, I think, to be allowed some semblance of anonymity. It is only right for the Council to have some emotional distance in order to put all Grisha and Ravka at the forefront of their priorities when they cast their vote.”

To not have to look you in the eyes when they trade you like a Grisha trafficker. The words hung unsaid between them.

When she did not respond, Artur left.

Alina turned, scowling at her reflection in the glass. The view held no stars tonight and she felt as cloudy as the sky. Blurred and confused.

Her thoughts turned again to Aleksander and she almost broke.

He called to her at this very moment. Had not stopped really since the night she first witness him with his lover.

His calls to her would crumble the stone fortress around her eventually. Wave after wave of persistence and desire and need crashed into the barrier and it was all she could do to keep him out.

The way her heart hurt. The way she longed.

Why could she not have been granted centuries alone like he? She would have been able to stand on this side of those years tall and invulnerable—used to the loneliness. She would be experienced in handling the empty, hollow feeling in her chest.

As it was, she felt little more than a child, puffing up her age. She had thought to show him how strong she could be.

Impress him with her self-sufficiency and strategic execution.

She had wanted to conquer the West. Wanted to own it outright.

Then, when the day came, she would join him. They would reunite Ravka. Either by channel through the Fold or by marriage or both. Eventually both.

Inevitably both.

When had it all become so muddy? The way was blurred and opaque now and it felt as if nothing made sense.

The Council would make her a traitor to herself. To her people. To her Shadowed lifeline.

How would he look at her knowing she had allowed herself to be manhandled into a political marriage. One which might impede their own union?

“The others may not guess all your reasons to protest, girl, but I can.”

The fight left her body and her forehead thudded against the glass in response to her voice.

When would Aleksander retrieve his mother?

He may have endured centuries with her but Alina could not last that long under these circumstances. If things carried on this way, Baghra would not survive it either.

Wouldn’t that be just poetic? Baghra gets her death wish fulfilled by her son’s eternal lover.

“Have the last word and be gone, Baghra. I wish to retire.”

Baghra was quiet, though not with judgement. It did not permeate the air as it typically did when she wanted to give Alina her unsolicited opinion.

Alina turned and looked at the old woman with a cautious curiosity.

She looked quite sad.

"I was…mistaken, I believe.”

The words tapped around Alina’s brain, looking for a way in but Alina was thoroughly nonplussed.

“Mistaken.” Alina repeated slowly.

“I warned you off of my son. I meant you to be afraid of him. I believed at the time you would bend to his whim and bring the earth down around him as a result.” Baghra said, voice rough with more than her old age.

“I did not think much of you. You were every bit the naive woman I’d feared you to be. Your loyalty and objectives were unknown and untested to me at the time.”

Baghra took a breath, looking everywhere except Alina. “And so I did as I must.”

“You poisoned me against him. Do not white wash that narrative, Baghra. You assured me of his dark, black heart.”

Alina felt the anger in her tears. In the floodgate of emotion opening up, Alina finally found herself the target of her own scorn.

“And then I was the one who believed it. You were a snake but I was every bit as naive as you expected to have taken your words for truth—to accept them so easily.”

Baghra looked away from her. “Nevertheless, I say this to assure you that where I was mistaken then, I am not mistaken now. Aleksander will be better for this. We can protect him.”

She looked meaningfully at Alina. “But you have to play your part.”

Alina shook her head.

“I will not marry Zlatan. No matter what the vote decides tomorrow.”

“You would risk losing control of the entire country over a vanity title? A political marriage—”

“I will not be sold off simply because I am a woman and this is convenient. I will give myself to no one whom I do not choose. I will not perpetuate a lie!” She shouted.

“Use your head, girl.” Baghra hissed. All quiet and peace forgotten.

“Zlatan will assassinate the Darkling as soon as he is in power. He will use the youth of the bastard son Nikolai to his advantage and cut off the resources for the East at the throat. Think! He fears all Grisha, fears what they can do. He fears the might and power of the Second Army on a battle field. Knows he would not win against them in a civil war. And above all—Zlatan fears Aleksander. The ‘other’ General.”

"You’re baiting me. I won’t fall for this again.”

“Stupid girl! Do you not understand!? Zlatan will not allow the boy Tsar to keep his Grisha army. You know the pig is allying with Fjerda. He would use them to end the Second Army—may even use them to take down the Little Palace itself.” Baghra was moving closer to Alina and she was already against a wall.

No escape.

“Then we will stop him. We will find another way.”

“This is the way, girl. Zlatan will kill Aleksander, one way or another. If you want to keep him alive, this is the best way.”

Alina wanted to scream. She was combusting. Her Light was reaching a critical mass inside of her and any moment her skin would burst and she would detonate.

“I am going to bed. I cannot listen anymore.” She panted, escaping the common room.

_________________________

Alina had just locked the door behind her when she felt it.

Something far worse than the usual insistent tugs of Aleksander.

At first, it was excruciating pain. Radiating from her chest and illuminating her core with Light in some sort of internal fear response.

And then, nothing.

Alina felt as though she were being unmoored. Sent to drift at sea.

Stuck in the abyss of space without an anchor.

She panicked, scrabbling for the loose tether in her chest and held tight.

And then he appeared.

Or rather she appeared to him, where he lay on the ground. Unconscious as blood poured from his back.

“Sasha.” He was hazy before her. That was unusual.

His eyes snapped open, a huff fogging in the air around him. She could not see anyone touching him.

“Sasha…” She said again into the space between them.

“You’re here.” He said. “My sun.”

“What have you done? What have you gotten yourself into, Aleksander?”

She rubbed at her chest where everything was unfurling and the frayed tendrils were like a charged wire split apart.

It danced in the energy that poured from it. It lashed through her core, untamed. It was painful.

She wanted to panic. She was afraid to lose her head. Afraid to miss this.

“A Fjerdan wolf.” He coughed, blood drops splattering over his lips. “You would admire the beast, I’ve no doubt.”

His lips turned up in a wry smile. “I did not see it directly, but I imagine it’s feral rage would remind me of you.”

He sighed and closed his eyes.

His lungs heaved a breath. “Everything reminds me of you, in any case…”

He drifted off for a few seconds, stirring only at the sound of her voice.

“Where are you?” She demanded of him. His brow furrowed at her tone. “I will come to you at once but you have to tell me now.”

He sighed again and looked confused, as if he had not understood her.

“If I was to die, I wished it to be at your hands, zoloste. With you I would be warm and you could burn me up. It would be frightening and it would be beautiful.”

“No.” She growled at him, wiping the blood from his lip with her thumb, “Get up you fool. You will not leave me alone on this rock. Aleksander. Get up.”

A chill shuddered over him. She could not see anything but shapes around him.

Was no one going to do anything?

The adrenaline she felt was turning rancid with desperation as she watched him covered in blood but remained impotent to act. Thousands of miles stretched between them.

Baghra’s words were flying like a banner through her head, And above all—Zlatan fears Aleksander. Zlatan will kill Aleksander, one way or another.

She felt they were fading. He was fading.

Who was going to help him? Where was his army?

“Can you not keep me warm now? It is cold here, where I am. Can you see the snow?” His state was turning toward delirium and she sprang forward to hold his cheek as if just that touch would keep him anchored.

He smiled and twitched his head but did not move.

“I would have your palm on my lips so I could taste your skin, moya koroleva. Please, just once.”

She bristled even as angry tears dropped from her bowed head.

“Stop it, you foolish, foolish old man. Stop trying to give your solemn farewell, I will not tolerate it for another second.” She wiped her nose with her sleeve.

“It makes you sound weak.” She spat the words at him.

He only sighed.

“I hate you for this, Aleksander. I will never forgive you for this.”

He hummed and his eyes closed in relish.

“I adore your zeal always. It lights something in me.” With the little movement he could manage he pressed his face further into her other palm, still warm on his cheek.

“My temperamental lioness. My mercurial, majestic, little Star.” He grinned with eyes closed enjoying his private thoughts.

“These are all the endearments I would name you with—I have others more colorful if you would like to hear them?”

Her hand stroked over his dark locks and tears were still falling and her chest felt close to combustion just hovering on the edge of breaking her apart.

He opened his eyes, a wearisome movement given they opened only enough to reveal half of his black pupils.

With the last of his strength he took in her face. Her tears.

He grimaced.

��It is just as well I should not get to share all the names with you. They are not all so kind, if I’m honest, and I wish only to see you blush in these moments.”

“Do not leave me, Sasha.” Her voice near silent.

“I am sorry, Alina. I would not have banished you if I thought it would end like this.”

“I told you to stop.” She sniffed.

What was this all for without him? If it did not end with them together?

“Please, Alinochka. Give me a few kind words.”

She shook her head and moved closer. Her lips pressed to his temple where she spoke into his skin.

“You are mine and I am yours. We were together in the before and we will be together in the after. You will not get away from me for long, my Sasha.”

He hummed and smiled. “You make it sound so sweet. Like a vow.”

He sighed and her tears tracked in silent hot paths down her face. Her voice left her.

He spoke again. “An after would be something. If you are there, it would be fitting that I would follow.”

He heaved another breath.

“You, the brightest star. Me, your faithful shadow, forever trailing in your wake.”

His eyes did not open again.

The tether frayed entirely and her spirit was cast into an abyss.

______________________

He must really have died. A few moments at least.

She barely had time to draw breath before he was tugging her back. The tether stitched itself together in her presence and she scratched absently at her chest while she followed his body, surrounded by blurred shapes.

Hazy figured moved around him. Fedyor came into view as he touched his General, removing his cloak. Shock had frozen his features.

Ivan appeared, unlatching the buckles of the bloodied kefta.

Ivan his most loyal Grisha. His stoic expression was virtually inscrutable but even Alina could tell he was shaken.

She hung around all evening, keeping vigil as he slept.

Aleksander woke only briefly. Long enough to see her with him. It was nearly morning. She had not rested.

The Council would vote soon.

She squeezed his hand, kissing his forehead and his lips before she whispered, “I will be back, Sasha.”

__________________________

The Council was uncomfortable to see Alina waiting for them in the morning. Though Artur had invited her to review her points before the vote, he had clearly hoped she would not.

“I have an amendment to the proposal. One which I will insist upon if I am to vote in favor of the engagement.”

Tamar and Tolya looked battle ready, nodding at her to continue. Baghra narrowed her eyes but Alina did not care.

“I will go forward with the engagement on one condition. Zlatan must be killed before the marriage can take place.”

Artur opened his mouth to protest but Alina silenced him with a look.

“It will be enough for the people to simply see that we are a united front. We will announce our engagement throughout the West and allow people to see me as a worthy ruler. Marriage need not establish any rights for me.”

Artur still looked uneasy but Tamar and Tolya were already nodding.

“Very well. Zlatan will be dead before a wedding can occur. We can work with that, Sun Summoner.” Baghra looked around, “Shall we vote?”

#darklina fic #darklina fanfic #darklina #alina x aleksander #aleksander morozova #alina starkov #politics #mutual pining #betrayal #eventual hea #the grisha trilogy #grishaverse #plot twist

2 notes · View notes

aspoonofsugar · 5 years ago

Note

Hi! How are you doing? Not sure if it's already been asked, but what are your top 10 favourite canon couples?

Hello!

I am doing fine, thank you! How are you doing?

It is alright, nobody has asked this before, so I can answer! That said, I am not really a hardcore shipper, so I am not sure I will come up with 10 pairs :’‘‘). I’ll do my best though! Also I have interpreted the term “canon” very freely.

As usual, here they are in no particular order:

1) Claire Stanfield and Chane Laforet (Baccano!):

I love their dynamic because they are fundamentally two almost opposite individuals who end up together in a surprising way. On one hand Claire thinks that he is the protagonist not only of his own story, but of the whole world. As a matter of fact he believes that the world is nothing more than a dream of his. Ironically, it is because of this selfish delusion that Claire is able to embrace the whole world:

“So what if I'd spare him? In my mind it's the certainty in myself that I possess which allows me to have that kind of mercy or compassion. There's no wavering on that point. It's fixed like the stars. The fact is I'm never gonna be killed! So remember this: mercy and compassion are virtues that only the strong are privileged to possess. And I am strong.”

On the other hand Chane has chosen to be nothing more than her father’s puppet. She is a satellite character in her own life and can’t absolutely think to live as a protagonist. If Claire’s world is too big, Chane’s too little because it has only her and her father in it. What is more, Chane has gone out of her way to make sure that it stays that way. For example, she asked her father to take her voice away and has not learnt alternative ways to communicate (like sign language).

Given this premise, it is interesting that a person so self-centered like Claire puts a person with such a frail sense of self like Chane at the centre of his world. Claire makes Chane, who is not even the lead of her own story, the heroine of his huge world. Claire instead plays a support role in Chane’s story. It is precisely because of this contradiction that their dynamic works. All in all Chane gets to get in contact with the world through Claire. Because of this, she is challenged to grow. This is another interesting difference between them. On one hand Claire is basically like Peter Pan and can’t really grow psychologically. On the other hand Chane is a character who has changed, but who is scared of this change. This is why she tries to actively regress, but she can’t really go back to who she was.

2) Komugi and Meruem (HxH):

I have explained here what I love about them. Their relationship conveys the themes of the chimera ants arc beautifully. I especially like it because it would have been easy to have Meruem grow fond of Komugi because of her kindness and goodness. However, this is not really what happens. The reason why Meruem is so attracted by Komugi is her prowess as a Gungi player. Komugi is not a character who coddles Meruem, but one who challenges him. As a result Meruem’s attraction for her is rooted in respect. Meruem brings out from Komugi her talent and stubborness, while Komugi brings out from him his caring and kind side. Meruem becomes interested in her because of the traits they share and grows to love what makes her different from him.

3) Ash Lynx and Eiji Okumura (Banana Fish):

I like their relationship, but I would have loved for it to be explored even more throughout the story. All in all, they are attracted to each other because they want something the other has. Eiji wants Ash’s initiative and daring personality, while Ash wants Eiji’s freedom and soothing personality. Eiji wants Ash’s ability to fight for himself, while Ash wants Eiji’s talent to heal others instead of hurting them.

Despite this, they are not fully able to grow as they could have because of the violence of the conflict they are in. Eiji makes some steps in the right direction, but the moment a wound incapacitates him he goes back to his more passive behaviour. When it comes to Ash, he is not able to take fligth like he would like because of self-hate. Their ending is tragic, but I wonder if it could have been different. For example, after a meaningful conflict the two of them decide to avoid fighting and to simply enjoy the time they spend together. This is a relatable choice, but a series of things are left unexpressed and because of this they are not really able to overcome their flaws. Maybe, if they had fought a little more and had called each other out more, things could have been different in the end.

4) Claire Nunez and Jim Lake Jr (Tales of Arcadia):

I have talked about them here. They are two very similar people to the point that they have basically the same flaw. They both feel responsible for bad things happening to them and to their friends. This is why they end up trying to fix everything by their own and fail spectacularly. It is nice to see them find help and support by their loved ones. And it is heart-warming that they keep being there for each other.

5) Chidi Anagonye and Eleanor Shellstrop (The Good Place):

Eleanor and Chidi are completely different people and this is why they are perfect to challenge each other. Chidi inspires Eleanor to be more selfless and to open up to others, while Eleanor inspires Chidi to be daring. This is obvious since season 1 and it is a constant throughout the series. Their relationship is a good example of a relationship which is conflictual, but enriching. In order to stay together they (other than escaping hell) must overcome their respective flaws. Eleanor must be vulnerable and let Chidi in her life, while Chidi must be decisive and actively choose Eleanor.

I also like that this is true even in those timelines where they do not develop a romantic relationship. The fact that their relationship is the same, but also slightly differs in each reboot makes it gain a very nice thematic meaning and enriches it. All in all, what Chidi and Eleanor represent for each other is always the same and what changes is the platonic/romantic aspect of the bond.

Finally I like the motif of them leaving messages to their future selves about the other. At the end of season 1, Eleanor writes to herself: “Find Chidi”, while at the end of season 3 Chidi writes to himself: “Eleanor is the answer”. This is a very cool motif which conveys their respective growth thanks to the other. Eleanor who only trusts herself chooses to trust Chidi’s ability to help her. Chidi who has spent his whole life searching for answers and failing to write them down decides that Eleanor is all he needs to find meaning in his life.

6) Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye:

Their relationship is my favourite of the whole series. Their characters are beautifully intertwined to the point that they can barely function without the other. This aspect of their bond is not excessively romanticized, but it is presented as a dreadful consequence of the traumatic past they share. At the end of the day Roy and Riza are too highly idealistic people whose ideals were shattered before they could evolve in something more than childish dreams. Despite this, they were able to put the fragments of those great dreams back together and have chosen to sacrifice their personal happiness to realize them.

All in all, Riza and Roy want redemption for their crimes and they find comfort in each other while they try to obtain it. In order to make things better they are ready to sacrifice their own existences and they have given up on the chance of living normal lives as civilians. However, they still have each other.

Roy gives Riza someone to protect, so that she does not fall apart and remains functional, while Riza restrains Roy’s most negative instincts. They make each other better even if they can’t completely overcome the pain of their past. They can just share it with the other.

Finally I especially like the scene where Roy chooses not to transmute humans even if it means Riza will most likely die. As a matter of fact, despite it all, that act is not framed as a betrayal of Riza, but rather as the only thing he can do not to betray her. I love both relationships where a character fixated on an ideal lets go of it because of people and relationships which make a person realize the importance of an ideal. They are both beautiful when well written. Here we are in front of a bond where both aspects are present. On one hand Roy must let go of his desire of vengeance not to lose Riza. On the other hand Roy must let go of Riza not to betray the ideals they share.

In the end theirs is a very tragic and strict relationship, but also a very warm and human one.

7) Kokomi Teruhashi and Saiki Kusuo (Saiki Q):

They are not properly canon since they are not together by the end. However, I think there is enough in the series to support the ship. Anyway, it is still a ship I enjoy a lot (and it is one of the few I feel strongly for, so I am adding it to the list no matter what).

I love their dynamic because it is hilarious, but it could also be surprisingly deep if the narrative wanted to explore it more. Teruhashi is my favourite character of the series because she is a nice subversion of both the yamato nadeshiko trope and of the alpha bitch one. She presents herself as an incredibly beautiful and yet innocent girl, but she is actually very aware of her looks and of others’ reactions. Despite this, she comes along as likeable mostly because she often genuinelly means well despite her being self-centered. Saiki instead projects the image of an average person, but he is actually the most powerful being of the world. In short, Teruhashi and Saiki are both opposite and the same.

They are the same because they both wear a carefully crafted mask. They are opposite because the masks they were are opposite. On one hand Teruhashi’s mask of the perfect girl attracts attention. On the other hand Saiki’s mask of the average guy is meant to make him invisible.

The difference between their two personas is the reason why Saiki wants to avoid Teruhashi at all costs. He wants to be average, so he can’t stay close to a person who attracts so much attention. At the same time, it is clear that Saiki grows to admire Teruhashi specifically because of her ability to always keep her mask up. He knows how difficult it is to realize such a feat and he recognizes Teruhashi’s dedication. Basically Saiki is the only person who knows the real Teruhashi and appreciates her for who she is and not for who she pretends to be.

In short, the series could have done a lot with them if it had wanted to go deeper in their dynamic. Saiki ends up coming to the spotlight multiple times to help Teruhashi, while Teruhashi breaks up her image of perfect girl when close to Saiki.

Unluckily this is the end of the list :’‘‘) I tried to think of other canon couples I enjoy, but even if there are some, I would not call them proper faves. At the same time, there are some ships I enjoy, but they are not properly canon/confirmed to be romantic, so I am not adding them.

Thank you for the ask!

#baccano!#baccano #clairexchane #hxh #komugixmeruem #bf #asheji #trollhunters #clairexjim #royai #fma #chidi x eleanor #the good place #saiki x teruhashi #saiki q #asksfullofsugar #eurekapendragon

87 notes · View notes

c-ptsdrecovery · 5 years ago

Link

If you want to summarize the changes in family structure over the past century, the truest thing to say is this: We’ve made life freer for individuals and more unstable for families. We’ve made life better for adults but worse for children. We’ve moved from big, interconnected, and extended families, which helped protect the most vulnerable people in society from the shocks of life, to smaller, detached nuclear families (a married couple and their children), which give the most privileged people in society room to maximize their talents and expand their options. The shift from bigger and interconnected extended families to smaller and detached nuclear families ultimately led to a familial system that liberates the rich and ravages the working-class and the poor.

...Extended families have two great strengths. The first is resilience. An extended family is one or more families in a supporting web. Your spouse and children come first, but there are also cousins, in-laws, grandparents—a complex web of relationships among, say, seven, 10, or 20 people. If a mother dies, siblings, uncles, aunts, and grandparents are there to step in. If a relationship between a father and a child ruptures, others can fill the breach. Extended families have more people to share the unexpected burdens—when a kid gets sick in the middle of the day or when an adult unexpectedly loses a job.

A detached nuclear family, by contrast, is an intense set of relationships among, say, four people. If one relationship breaks, there are no shock absorbers. In a nuclear family, the end of the marriage means the end of the family as it was previously understood.

... But while extended families have strengths, they can also be exhausting and stifling. They allow little privacy; you are forced to be in daily intimate contact with people you didn’t choose. There’s more stability but less mobility. Family bonds are thicker, but individual choice is diminished. You have less space to make your own way in life.

... The period from 1950 to 1965 demonstrated that a stable society can be built around nuclear families—so long as women are relegated to the household, nuclear families are so intertwined that they are basically extended families by another name, and every economic and sociological condition in society is working together to support the institution.

But these conditions did not last. The constellation of forces that had briefly shored up the nuclear family began to fall away, and the sheltered family of the 1950s was supplanted by the stressed family of every decade since. Some of the strains were economic. Starting in the mid-’70s, young men’s wages declined, putting pressure on working-class families in particular. The major strains were cultural. Society became more individualistic and more self-oriented. People put greater value on privacy and autonomy. A rising feminist movement helped endow women with greater freedom to live and work as they chose.

...Finally, over the past two generations, families have grown more unequal. America now has two entirely different family regimes. Among the highly educated, family patterns are almost as stable as they were in the 1950s; among the less fortunate, family life is often utter chaos. There’s a reason for that divide: Affluent people have the resources to effectively buy extended family, in order to shore themselves up. Think of all the child-rearing labor affluent parents now buy that used to be done by extended kin: babysitting, professional child care, tutoring, coaching, therapy, expensive after-school programs. (For that matter, think of how the affluent can hire therapists and life coaches for themselves, as replacement for kin or close friends.) These expensive tools and services not only support children’s development and help prepare them to compete in the meritocracy; by reducing stress and time commitments for parents, they preserve the amity of marriage. Affluent conservatives often pat themselves on the back for having stable nuclear families. They preach that everybody else should build stable families too. But then they ignore one of the main reasons their own families are stable: They can afford to purchase the support that extended family used to provide—and that the people they preach at, further down the income scale, cannot.

... When you put everything together, we’re likely living through the most rapid change in family structure in human history. The causes are economic, cultural, and institutional all at once. People who grow up in a nuclear family tend to have a more individualistic mind-set than people who grow up in a multigenerational extended clan. People with an individualistic mind-set tend to be less willing to sacrifice self for the sake of the family, and the result is more family disruption. People who grow up in disrupted families have more trouble getting the education they need to have prosperous careers. People who don’t have prosperous careers have trouble building stable families, because of financial challenges and other stressors. The children in those families become more isolated and more traumatized.

Many people growing up in this era have no secure base from which to launch themselves and no well-defined pathway to adulthood. For those who have the human capital to explore, fall down, and have their fall cushioned, that means great freedom and opportunity—and for those who lack those resources, it tends to mean great confusion, drift, and pain.

... The people who suffer the most from the decline in family support are the vulnerable—especially children. ... We all know stable and loving single-parent families. But on average, children of single parents or unmarried cohabiting parents tend to have worse health outcomes, worse mental-health outcomes, less academic success, more behavioral problems, and higher truancy rates than do children living with their two married biological parents. According to work by Richard V. Reeves, a co-director of the Center on Children and Families at the Brookings Institution, if you are born into poverty and raised by your married parents, you have an 80 percent chance of climbing out of it. If you are born into poverty and raised by an unmarried mother, you have a 50 percent chance of remaining stuck.

... Consider single men. Extended families provided men with the fortifying influences of male bonding and female companionship. Today many American males spend the first 20 years of their life without a father and the next 15 without a spouse. Kay Hymowitz of the Manhattan Institute has spent a good chunk of her career examining the wreckage caused by the decline of the American family, and cites evidence showing that, in the absence of the connection and meaning that family provides, unmarried men are less healthy—alcohol and drug abuse are common—earn less, and die sooner than married men.

For women, the nuclear-family structure imposes different pressures. Though women have benefited greatly from the loosening of traditional family structures—they have more freedom to choose the lives they want—many mothers who decide to raise their young children without extended family nearby find that they have chosen a lifestyle that is brutally hard and isolating. The situation is exacerbated by the fact that women still spend significantly more time on housework and child care than men do, according to recent data. Thus, the reality we see around us: stressed, tired mothers trying to balance work and parenting, and having to reschedule work when family life gets messy.

Without extended families, older Americans have also suffered. According to the AARP, 35 percent of Americans over 45 say they are chronically lonely. Many older people are now “elder orphans,” with no close relatives or friends to take care of them.

Finally, because groups that have endured greater levels of discrimination tend to have more fragile families, African Americans have suffered disproportionately in the era of the detached nuclear family. Nearly half of black families are led by an unmarried single woman, compared with less than one-sixth of white families. (The high rate of black incarceration guarantees a shortage of available men to be husbands or caretakers of children.) ... Research by John Iceland, a professor of sociology and demography at Penn State, suggests that the differences between white and black family structure explain 30 percent of the affluence gap between the two groups.

... We can’t go back, of course. Western individualists are no longer the kind of people who live in prehistoric bands. ...We value privacy and individual freedom too much.

...Yet recent signs suggest at least the possibility that a new family paradigm is emerging. Many of the statistics I’ve cited are dire. But they describe the past—what got us to where we are now. In reaction to family chaos, accumulating evidence suggests, the prioritization of family is beginning to make a comeback. Americans are experimenting with new forms of kinship and extended family in search of stability.

... In 1980, only 12 percent of Americans lived in multigenerational households. But the financial crisis of 2008 prompted a sharp rise in multigenerational homes. Today 20 percent of Americans—64 million people, an all-time high—live in multigenerational homes.

...T he most interesting extended families are those that stretch across kinship lines. The past several years have seen the rise of new living arrangements that bring nonbiological kin into family or familylike relationships. On the website CoAbode, single mothers can find other single mothers interested in sharing a home. All across the country, you can find co-housing projects, in which groups of adults live as members of an extended family, with separate sleeping quarters and shared communal areas. Common, a real-estate-development company that launched in 2015, operates more than 25 co-housing communities, in six cities, where young singles can live this way.

#trauma #childhood trauma #found family

57 notes · View notes