#to translate this post: someone liked this post i made (on the upper left) on AUGUST 28 having a moment of self awareness that i was running

[pepprs]

[itsharleystuff]

⸻ 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰

‘ necio porque no eres mía, mi fruta prohibida ‘

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader (implied hispanic/latina)

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Javier can’t stay away from you, even if that means being your sneaky link.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, p in v sex, porn with barely any plot, unrealistic car sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of cheating, feelings (left unsaid), fingering, hair pulling, praising, lots of kissing, pet names (cariño, sweetheart, hermosa), phrases in Spanish (no translations, sorry), mentions of reader wearing a cross necklace (not a rosary or any religious reference, but adding it here in case anyone might be bothered by it), no use of y/n. I think that’s all.

a/n: been listening to lots of romeo santos lately and now we have bad bunny’s new album so expect some nasty works from me (as soon as I get a break from uni cause damn). This os is a bit rushed due to my lack of time, but I really wanted to post something, please excuse my mistakes<3

‘ Is it better to feel everything with great depth in comparison to feeling nothing at all? ’

Occasionally, you think it’ll be easier if you could simply turn your emotions off and walk away. But no matter how many times you tell yourself that you won't go back to him, somehow —every so often in the weirdest ways— he always ends up between your legs. On and off, like one torturous, yet perfect loop that keeps bringing you back together.

Although, you were never actually together.

Technicalities, right?

Things were said and done once you started frequenting each other's beds. Above all else, Javier had clearly specified that he didn't want any feelings involved in the matter (primarily due to his job, plus the dangers that came with it) and you had stupidly agreed to that condition. Because honestly, the main reason why you got involved with him in the first place was the way he made your heart flutter, how he could make your skin tingle just with a simple touch and get your knees weak solely by surrounding your personal space.

It was all in vain, nonetheless. He had it for you, too. Badly. Though his realization came hard and late. You stormed into his life and swiped away any thoughts of having an emotionless relationship; your innocent curiosity, the softness of your touch and the brightness in your eyes whenever you'd stare into his soul while being tangled with him all night, all of it somehow carved your way into his heart.

Even if you were already seeing someone else, trying to move on, he'd still be all over you; chasing after you as if having all your attention was some sort of personal whim of his. The worst part? You'd give in every single time, surrendering yourself to him after putting up little to none resistance.

"Javier, this needs to stop..." were your words actually meaningful if you uttered them between kisses?

His hands coast up your thighs, delicately rubbing the flesh as his lips roamed along your jawline. "Why?" he sighed, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

"Why?" you mimic him, propping your weight up with both palms to his chest, slightly pushing him back. "You fucking know why."

The agent straightens his posture on the backseat of his jeep, forcing you to readjust your position on top of him. He takes a deep gulp of air whilst staring up at you with low, darkened eyes.

One thing was crystal clear: he had you right where he wanted you. His aviator sunglasses rested on top of his head, crowning his messy hair; the black shirt was ruffled from you tugging at it, a couple of buttons loose. His unsteady breathing and plump lips almost made him appear needy, if it weren't for the firm grip he had on your upper legs and the wide hunger his gaze reflected. Your yellow sundress had ranked up your thighs and the denim material of his jeans felt a tad uncomfortable beneath you. All that could be heard inside the car –parked somewhere next to an incautious road– was the storm happening outside and a song they were playing on the radio.

"Oh, yeah..." he chuckled sardonically. "I forgot I'm now your boy toy."

There was a bittersweet note on his voice despite the joking tone. "Shut up, asshole. It's not like I was ever anything different to you."

He muffled a laugh, his fingertips lingering on your feverish skin. The air inside the car was cold, contrasting with the warm heat of your bodies. Javier couldn't help but think about the irony of the situation; about how you couldn't believe that you meant anything more than a sweet time to him, when in reality, the few moments you spent together were the only ones where he could feel genuine joy. His hand comes up to cup your face, gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

"You think very low of me, preciosa." Oh, if only he knew.

"I wish I did. That would surely make things easier." He shakes his head, holding back laughter.

"Does he know?" your brows knit together in confusion, shocked by the sudden question and the mention of the other guy.

"Know what?" you asked with a quizzical expression.

His big palm lowers to your neck, the other one sneaking under the hem of your dress, all the way up to your hip and setting on your lower back. "About me."

You tsked, rearranging the collar of his shirt, "I'm not sure there's anything he needs to know about you, Peña."

He smirks, charming as ever. "How about the reason why you keep coming back to me?" The pads of his fingers rub soothing circles along your spine, all the while his eyes swallow you whole. "I don't mind being second in line as long as your frontman knows how to treat you properly."

"You're talking nonsense," you run your hands through his locks, brushing the hair out of his face. "You think you're any better?"

"Oh, cariño. I know I am." If it weren't for the confidence in his voice –as if he spoke freely and unquestionably–, you'd probably be laughing. "I'm sure everyone knows." His index and middle fingers trace your collarbones in light, feathery touches and slowly slide down your chest, avoiding the chain around your throat. "And if he doesn't, be sure to tell him."

A shiver runs throughout your body when his thumb sweeps across your sensitive nipple over the flimsy fabric of your dress. The hand on your lower back moves to press you firmly against him, grinding your lower body on top of his and pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.

"Javi..." you can't muster up the words nor the courage to push him away before he's kissing all over your neck and shoulders. "God, you're insufferable."

He chuckles, and the sound is not only attractive but contagious, plastering a smile on your face. The thin straps of your dress slide down your arms, making your boobs nearly spill out the front, though neither of you actually care. Both his hands squeeze your ass as he buries his face between your breasts, sucking a mark on the sensitive skin. That, he thought, was something you probably wouldn't want the other guy to see.

You unconsciously started searching for friction, moving your hips in tandem to relieve some of the increasing ache that settled between your thighs. You sighed when his mouth started peppering kisses all over your exposed tits, giving special attention to your hardened nipples. He knew exactly what you liked and how you liked it, your favorite spots and positions; all he needed to do to have you trembling, screaming and begging for more... He knew everything and he boasted on it.

"Oh, you really love me," he mumbles, voice strained with lust as you keep rubbing yourself against him, using him just like he enjoyed best. "Don't you, corazón?"

You pull his hair harshly, forcing him to look at you in the eye, the chain of your necklace colliding against his chin. The gruffly groan that leaves his lips goes straight to your core. Javier loved it when you were a little mean and bossy; it amused him.

"I like you better when you're quiet," you hiss, kissing all over his jaw and licking a long stripe along his throat, taking your time on his Addams' apple and the spot between his neck and shoulder. That, added to the constant, leisured movement of your body against his crotch, had him panting and grunting in seconds.

The sight of pleasure contorting his features as he completely loses himself and starts bucking his hips upwards has you dripping and clenching around nothing. "Fucking lier," he spits out, "you love it when I'm noisy."

He was right, as per usual. But you decided to ignore it. "I'd like you more if you weren't such a cocky bastard. Tal vez así no tendría que buscarme a otro."

A wolfish grin purses his lips and his eyes gleam smugly, "Necia y mentirosa. You're every man's dream."

You lean forward to kiss the crook of his nose, feeling his strong arms enveloping you, guiding your movements just as you both liked best. Your lungs fill with air and you grasp the back of the seat, feeling a certain tension building in the pit of your stomach each time the right amount of pressure was applied to your clit. Javier relished on the way he could make a complete mess of you without even having you naked, his cock twitching in his pants with the mewls that left you; having you all hot and bothered prompted his own excitement.

"Everyone's..." your breath fanned across his cheek as you ducked down towards him, lips so close to each other’s that he could already feel the ghost of their touch on his mouth. "But yours."

If you really believed that, then you were ragingly clueless, for he knew deep down that he'd go to wit's end and back just for you to be happy.

"Especially mine, sweetheart." He doesn't let you reply, swiftly catching your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

It ignited something within you that could only grow bigger and stronger, like a forest fire. An intense feeling that settled in your loins and expanded throughout your body with every touch and every single kiss. It was melting your bones and fogging your brain deliciously. His hand rested on the nape of your neck to hold you close as his mouth explored yours in depth, meanwhile the other slid between your bodies to palm your clothed sex, wet with your arousal.

"Fuck..." he gasps amidst, gliding his index and middle fingers across the soaked fabric, spurring you on.

Despite the fact that he'd done this a dozen times before, the way you'd easily give in to him would always do it for Javier. Your sweet whimpers and ragged breaths were his own sort of addiction, the moans that escaped your lips when moving your panties aside made all his blood rush towards his lower body.

His fingers gather the slick around your entrance and then brings them back to your clit, teasing it with slow, circular motions. He takes his time to play with you, refusing to thrust his fingers in your core and only managing to get you wetter and more desperate by the second, toying with your patience. The moment you try to wriggle, his grip becomes stronger to keep you still, digging his fingertips so strongly that it'll definitely bruise afterwards. At this point you can feel your own arousal smearing on your inner thighs and dripping down his jeans.

"Don't be mean, Peña..." you mumble in complain, your hands wandering over his chest, struggling to keep your mind on track.

"Beg for it," he whispers in your ear. "Be nice and I'll do as you say."

You bite your lower lip to hold back your noises while his fingers drift across your slit. "Please..." you kiss the soft spot behind his ear, raising goosebumps on his skin. "Javi, por favor..."

He hums lowly, pressing his middle and index fingers to your entrance at the same time as he shushes your moans with a kiss. His mouth is all over yours, his tongue running along your lower lip before going past your teeth. You can barely breathe, the feeling of his digits inside you and the sloppy kiss had your head spinning. You're certain that if it wasn't for the rain or the music in the radio you'd definitely be able to hear the sopping sounds of him working on your pussy. Javier curses when your head draws back, not wanting to part from you, the sweet aftertaste of the kiss still lingering on his tongue.

The leather material of the seats cracked each time you moved, and the crystals were starting to mist up from the shock of temperatures. Despite the windows being polarized, the blue, kind of grayish light of today's twilight shone beautifully on your glowing skin, leaving him absolutely mesmerized.

"Do you ever show him this side of you?" he mutters hoarsely, watching you from below as you shut your eyes and claw at his shirt, feeling his thick fingers curling inside, stretching you open. "Does he touch you like I do?" He's quick to find your weak spot and hit it repeatedly, slow and steady at first, bringing back his wet digits to your swollen bud. "Can he fuck you like I do? Please you like I do?"

You shake your head in denial, panting and unable to form any coherent sentences. The warmth between your legs started spreading throughout your belly, thighs quivering and waves of pleasure washing over you.

"Use your words," he coaxes, burying his face on your neck to inhale your perfume, the one that's all over him, his clothes and sheets; like you were marking him as yours. The familiar tickle of his mustache on your sensitive skin, added to the heat and the well-known thickness of his dick underneath you doesn't fail to make your body waver.

"N-no..." you stumble upon your words, "he can't. No one else can... Sólo tú."

"Mhm," Javier kisses your jaw lovingly, the feeling of his chest flushed to yours pushing you over the edge. In that moment, he just knows you're close by the way your cheeks heat up and your brows furrow, as well as how you start squeezing his fingers. "You can come now."

And he didn't need to tell you twice, for you were already falling apart, tugging at his hair and struggling to catch your breath. His hand leaves the apex of your thighs and starts caressing the smooth skin of your back, giving you chills from the dampness of his fingertips. You lay your forehead against his, and with your eyelids hanging low you press a soft kiss to his temple. For a while, you just stay like that in silence, feeling his strong arms wrapped around your waist and listening to a bolero song playing through the car speakers.

Javier's heart thumps against his ribs whilst the beat reverberates through you in a constant tempo. His natural musk dazes your mind; a mix of cigarettes, fresh soap and manly cologne. The intimacy of everything suddenly sinks in and your lungs swell with all the contained love you had for him, crushing you under its weight. You can't let it crawl back to you, knowing you have to keep it well buried within your bones. 

"Javi..." you purr, lips grazing his ear. "I need you."

"Yeah?" his coarse voice makes you shudder. "I'll take care of you, cariño."

You reluctantly break apart form his embrace and, with a playful smile, you decide to take his sunglasses off, carefully tossing them to the passenger's seat. He appeared invested in your game, his prying eyes following your every move. Then, you suddenly grabbed the hem of your sundress with both hands and took it off in a quick move, discarding it somewhere on the floor and leaving you solely in your tiny, ruined underwear and golden necklace. The man in front of you couldn't be any more swoon over your naked body, his brown eyes now blackened with desire.

"Mi niña hermosa," he coed.

Your smile widened as his palm covered the curve of your waist. It's almost as if he's never seen you like this; though the image of your bare skin is something he could never tire of, your beauty being something he'd describe as ethereal, if he were the artistic or poetic type— which he wasn't.

"You're staring," you say, feeling his free hand coming to grope your breast.

"I'm admiring," Javier replies with a grin, thumb brushing over your peaked nipple. "You're a menace, d'you know that? This body and that face of yours... Engañarían a cualquiera." The cool metal of his watch gave you chills when you grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand to your lips. "No one would believe that you let me fuck you senseless in the back of my car."

You giggle at his words, starting to spread kisses on his knuckles, "People would think you've corrupted me."

The pads of his fingers gently pull your lower lip, the same two digits that were previously inside you. He doesn't need to vocalize what he wants you to do, since you immediately pick up on it. Your mouth opens up steadily, allowing him to press both fingers to your tongue. With no hesitation, you eagerly begin to suck and lick at them without breaking eye contact, his heavy gaze looking at you fixedly.

"Perhaps I have," he murmurs rasps out, brushing the hair away from your face with an uncharacteristic delicate demeanor.

Frankly, you are incapable of conceiving how can he have so much power over you, your actions and thoughts. The way he peers at you with close scrutiny and sincere devotion makes you feel like a woman, in all sense of the word. He's aware of it and is not afraid to demonstrate it, to be at your mercy. And it only made you want him more.

You desperately tug at his belt while he drags his fingers from your lips to your chin and neck, letting you do all the hard work. There's an arrogant attitude to him as he merely 'admires' but doesn't go anywhere near as to putting any effort into it; he wants you to work for it, have your fun with him as you please and then let him show you why no other man can reach his level. He’s very aware of the fact that he's the only man whose dick you'd beg to have inside and he wallows in that knowledge, like a bragging child.

"Shit, Javier..." you fumble with his fly, silently pleading for his help while he absentmindedly kneads at your flesh, enjoying the show you're putting on for him. "Work with me, please."

"Anxious, aren't we?" he scoffs, taking your wrist to place your hand on his crotch. "What do you want, cariño?"

"A ti, Javi," the feeling of his cock throbbing at your confirmation only reaffirms how much he loves it when you verbally express your desires. "I want you."

Both his palms rest on your shoulder blades and his face gets closer to yours before talks again, "Then fucking take me."

His voice gave you butterflies and the way he spoke went straight to your core. A muffled moan vibrates in your chest when you reach for the base of his neck and pull him in for an aggressive, frenetic kiss. It's a blur of actions, a clash of tongues and teeth that happens at the same time as your hand sinks to his lower abdomen, swaying over the trail of hair that runs down his mound, with a touch so light that it makes his knees feel like jelly. The warmth and softness of your palm against his length pulls a groan deep from his throat, finally getting to release some of his pent-up tension and get the attention he's been craving from you.

You swipe your thumb across his swollen tip, surprised by the amount of precome that is dribbling and how easy it becomes to stroke him. Javier gasps at the contact, shutting his eyes and allowing himself to breathe. Just like him, you know exactly what he finds most pleasurable. You know his body as well as you know his mind; his pet-peeves and favorites. So freaking close, and yet— so, so incredibly far from his grasp.

"Cariño," he calls out your name in a languid drawl, clutching to your waist, "don't tease."

"Mhm," you're accustomed to the thickness of him, how heavy and long he is. However, it's always nice to feel how easily riled up he gets because you. "Not so fun when it's done to you, is it?" you purposely trace the vein on the underside of his dick and he snarls through gritted teeth, an unrestrained sound that makes you throb.

"Fucking hell-" the chocolate brown in his eyes is entirely consumed by the pitch black of his dilated pupils.

You drag your index along his jawline, slightly lifting his chin to square his gaze with yours. "Come on, big boy. Lift your hips so I can do this properly."

He can't help but laugh. "What now?" he snarks, doing as you say, nonetheless. "You're gonna talk me trough it?"

The man pulls his pants down just enough to give him the sufficient mobility. You don't have the patience to reply to his mockery, though you're sure he'd love it if you did so. Instead, he pushes your panties aside as much as the fabric permits and you glide the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your arousal and the remains of your previous orgasm. His hands are still on your hips but they're simply resting there, giving you the freedom to do as you want.

With a firm grip, you carefully guide him to your entrance and sink down his length, drawing a sharp whine from your lips and a low, depraved moan from him. The stretch he provides always manages to send your mind into oblivion, filling you up so good, to the extent that makes you believe no one ese could fit your body so perfectly. Your mouth falls agape and you clasp his shoulders in order to keep yourself grounded; beads of sweat started rolling down your neck and his temples when you rested your forehead against Javier's, eyes kept firmly shut.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he asks once you'd manage to sit every last inch of him deep inside you. "Want me to move?"

You shake your head 'no', gazing back at him to meet his preoccupied expression. "I'll do it," you stammer through the haze of rapture. "There's something I want to try."

His brows furrow in genuine confusion and a tad of concentration, but nods either way. Both his palms lay flat on your ass cheeks as you throw your head back and start moving at a leisured pace, biting your bottom lip and tangling your fingers in between his damp curls. You ride him like it's your first time doing so; grinding slowly and calculatedly, barely bouncing and more like swaying your hips rhythmically, feeling his cock nudge that particular spot that has your thighs trembling.

"Fuck-" Javier inhales heavily, using his strong hands to guide your movements without a change of cadence. "Look at you, sweetheart," he coos, his thumb grazing your clit in a very delicate manner that makes you yelp softly, "you look so pretty when you take it."

A wave of heat pools at the base of your spine, prompting you to tug at his hair. "Jesus Christ- you feel amazing..."

Your fingers slither upwards to pinch your nipple, adding to the slick between your legs. He grunts in annoyance, pushing your hand away and replacing it with his own, ducking his head down to fondle the sensitive area with his tongue. The sounds that leave your mouth have an immediate effect on him, thrusting his hips further into you involuntarily. A high-pitched moan falls from your lips as he meets your rhythm with an intensity that makes you dizzy.

"Such sweet noises you make," he praises in between shaky moans. "Oh, fuck-" is followed by a string of curses in spanish, sounding akin to a growl when you clench around him, leaking onto his shaft. "My perfect girl."

Your hands are never steady, roaming across his clothed back, chest and scalp. His on the other hand, hold onto you like his life depended on it— the fervor of it all, the way you call his name as you bear down on his cock and engulf him in your arms is borderline intoxicating. He lays his forehead on your shoulder, overwhelmed by just how good everything feels.

And that awakes something in you. Javier is not the quiet, laid-back kind of lover. Though he does let you take the lead from time to time, he's never surrendered himself to you like he is right now; panting and whimpering beneath you, murmuring adorations against your skin. And it's so hot for some unknown reason. It makes your pussy a dripping mess.

"Javi, look at me," you pull his hair with mild force and he consequently throws his head back, darting his eyes up to meet your stare. The way you keep bouncing on his length makes the dangling cross on your chain hit his chin continuously. None of you actually care. "D'you think I ever do this for him?"

He doesn't answer, but the grip on your waist tightens and his brows knit together. Then, he shakes his head faintly, "No."

Your thighs are starting to feel sore, but you pay no mind to it, still too drunk on the feeling of fullness, the ravishing sensation of his dick stretching you open and hitting all your weak spots effortlessly. "That's right," you pant, pressing your cheek to his temple. "Only you."

He rubs his nose on the side of your face and you can feel the all-too-familiar scratch of his mustache on your flush skin. You breathe him in, his soft hair smelling of sandalwood shampoo. "Only me," he echoes in a gruff, possessive note.

Suddenly, his pace starts picking up and you feel unable to keep up with him, this new sensation nearly making you cry out in euphoria. Javier moves his head enough to press a sweet kiss to your jaw and you glance down at his lips before going back to his lust-blown eyes. His calloused fingers glide to form tight, lazy circles on your bundle of nerves as he keeps steadily working on your cunt; he muffles your moans with a mere brush of lips that leaves you longing for more.

You cup his face in your hands and lean forward to connect your mouths once again. It's slow at first, filled with fluttering emotions that come bubbling up your chest. You melt in his embrace, your bodies melding together as you explore each other. It's deep and passionate but still controlled; filled with a profound earnest that expresses all that cannot be said between you, but that is throughly felt.

The sensation is positively dazzling, making your heartbeat race like you just ran a marathon. The heat gathers on your lower stomach again, starting to build your second crescendo. His cock throbs inside you when your nails scratch his scalp and the kiss becomes sloppier– wetter. But it isn't the only thing that is. Javier smirks against your lips when he can no longer just feel your slick, but rather hear it too. Each time he snaps his hips, the lewd sounds of your pussy drown any other noise around. It eggs him on.

"Mírate," he forces you to look down at where you're connected and the vision is nothing but obscene. The whole scene being a glistening, sticky mess. "I've truly ruined you for anyone else."

You don't retort, your senses beginning to cloud with every single thrust. You desperately cling to his shirt, your knuckles going numb as he keeps his relentless pace. Faster, harder, deeper. He can tell you're close by the way you wrap around him, how you can't hold back your cries and drop your lips next to his ear.

"Javi, I can't..." you stutter as he soothingly runs his fingers through your hair and your vision becomes blurry.

"It's okay, you've been so good," when he speaks, his voice sounds contorted by his own high overpowering him. "Come for me, baby. I've got you."

And that's all it takes for the coil to finally snap. Your body shivers from head to toe and you go completely limp in his embrace. Your whole world is spinning, feeling slightly lightheaded as your orgasm washes over you. Javier fucks you through it, thrown over the edge by your reaction. He feels your teeth sink mildly into the flesh of his neck and all of the sudden everything in his life comes down to this very moment; all he can perceive, all he knows and cares about right now is you.

As pleasure rushes over him, he whimpers, his hips start to falter and a couple of filthy moans scratch the bottom of his throat. You call his name softly, his head falling back as he reaches his high. He comes in warm, thick spurts inside, coating your walls and spilling from your entrance whilst he works his way through his climax. An odd sense of serendipity overcomes the satisfaction that settles within him when his lungs fill with air and his heartbeat stabilizes slowly.

He hears you murmuring sweet nothings to him, feels your warm, velvety lips spreading kisses on every inch of skin that you can reach. He feels shaky, peaceful and weirdly alive. Your image surges again in front of him, making his chest swell; that characteristic guilt beginning to creep into his system. Deep down, he knows he can't keep doing this to you— holding you back, tying you to him. Though it wasn't entirely his fault.

"¿Qué piensas?" you wonder, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. He shakes his head, refusing to answer.

Confused, you attempt to move and give him some space, but he cradles you in his arms, keeping you close. Your feel sticky with sweat and his spend dripping down your inner thighs; yet, strangely safe at the same time, letting his cock grow soft inside you.

"I don't..." he talks gently, not directly to you. "I don't wanna let you go."

There's vulnerability in his words, in the way he holds you. "You don't have to."

That's not what I mean, he wants to say. Instead, Javier leaves a tender kiss on your forehead. Push me away. Please, push me away. But you don’t do as he prays for, to his dismay.

“I guess not,” he mutters. “But it’s getting late and I want to take you home before nightfall.”

You reluctantly roll to your side, wincing from the sense of emptiness that comes with the action. “I suppose it’s for the best. I’m going out for dinner tonight, anyway.”

He playfully cocks an eyebrow at you, “With him?” you nod distractedly, taking a box of tissues from the Jeep’s glovebox. “Shit, I might need to fuck you again. Make sure you’re really satisfied and full of my cum when you’re prancing around him.”

You smile, carefully rearranging your clothes. “Well, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

In the end, no matter how either of you feel or whatever may happen in the near future, one thing is very certain: you won’t stay apart for long.

[writerslittlelibrary]

You saved me

masterlist

summary: when you are taken, your mothers do anything in their power to get you back, even if it means hurting you in the process. 

pairing: Natasha x daughter reader, Maria x daughter reader

warnings: death and injury

genre: angst

words: 1455

a/n: this is trash and I apologize. I had no idea where I was going with this but I just really wanted to post a blackhill x daughter story

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

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It has been three days since you’ve seen your mothers. Three days since you’ve slept in your own, warm, comfortable bed. The room you were locked in really was nothing in comparison to the comfort your mother’s had offered you over the years. 

Three days ago, you woke up like any other morning. Your mom, Maria, had already gone off to work, having mission reports and other important SHIELD business due by the end of the week. Your mama, Natasha, however, was at home, waiting to welcome you with a nice breakfast when you woke up. When you did wake up, your mama was kissing your cheek, saying she was just called into work.

You stretched a little before sitting up, giving your mama a hug before she left. Slowly, you got out of bed, putting on some sweatpants and your mom’s oversized t-shirt before making your way to the kitchen. Once you opened the fridge, there was a plate filled with your favorite breakfast you knew Natasha had prepared. Grabbing the plate and settling on the couch, you watched some tv before your show was interrupted. 

The tv had gone out, same with the lights and the digital clock. At first you were alarmed, but soon you settled on the idea that it was just a power failure. Someone must be messing with their electricity, you thought. It was unusual for the entire apartment block to lose their electricity, especially since your mothers had made sure everything would be up and running if something fails. They said it was for maximum security, which made you think. If the electricity had gone out, would the extra security on the door have gone out too?

You got up from the couch, walking to the door to check it. However, when you got to the front door, it was opened slightly. There was no possibility that Natasha had left the door open, so there must be someone in the apartment. Almost immediately you reached for your phone, wanting to call one of your mothers. 

Before you could even unlock the phone however, you felt a pinch in your neck, and you lost consciousness. That’s how you found yourself in your current situation. Locked in a tiny, unsanitary room. There was a chain attached to the wall that was attached to a cuff on your ankle, ensuring you wouldn’t be running away anytime soon. 

You wondered how many days it had been already, not having much sense of time in the dark room as there were no windows. You wondered how long it had taken for your mothers to notice you were gone, whether they finished their work day and were expecting to come home to you being asleep on the couch. You wondered if they were worried. 

There was a man that would occasionally come into the room. He would check your temperature, take some blood and sometimes inject you with something. The injections left your arm a little sore, but in general they weren’t hurting you. 

After the first time he came in, you fought against him, not wanting him to come any closer with his needle than he already was. After a guard was brought in however, you realized your mistake after the few hits he had delivered to you. Your upper lip was cut, and you had a cut on your temple. The blood that had trickled down had already dried, but the cut was still sensitive.

You heard some commotion outside the room, and wondered if it was the man that came back to take more of your blood. It wasn’t, and instead the cell door was opened by another man. He looked way taller and stronger, and looked nothing like the doctor that came in these past few days. 

Before you got to question him though, you were pulled from your sitting position, the man standing behind you and looping his arm around your neck, pulling you against his chest. 

You struggled to breath a little, and wondered what was going on when you saw a familiar redhead stand in the door opening, a gun being brought up to your temple. 

“If you try anything, she dies,” the man said, loading the gun to prove he meant his statement. Your mama’s grip on her gun didn’t waver. Instead she kept it pointed right at him, knowing she could kill him if she had too. 

“You don’t want to play this game,” she told him, loading her gun as well. The man pressed the gun against your temple a little harder. “Leave this building and she lives.” “I can’t do that,” your mama told him, taking a step closer. You could hear the bullet next to your head fall into the chamber, knowing he was going to shoot. Before you could feel his bullet pierce your head however, you heard another gunshot.

You opened your eyes when you heard a body drop, turning around in shock to see the man on the ground. You turned to your mama, who rushed to your side with a worried look on the face. It’s then you released the pain you felt in your shoulder.

Your mama had shot the man fatally, through you. He had stood behind you in a way that ensured she couldn’t shoot him, so she shot him through your shoulder. 

You grasped your shoulder, grimacing as you felt the blood soak your hand. “Nice shot,” you told your mama, who had reached her hand out to cover yours, helping you keep pressure on the wound. She smiled at you and pulled you into a hug, sighing deeply.  

After a few seconds she pulled back, cupping your face in her hands. “We have to go,” she told you, grabbing her gun and standing in front of you. “Mom,” you warned, signaling towards your ankle. Your mama grabbed the keys from the man’s corpse, and made quick work releasing your ankle. 

She held her gun up high and exited the room, making sure you were following close behind. Soon enough you were standing outside, the Quinjet just a few feet in front of you. You followed your mother as she guided you to it, your mom already on board. The moment she saw you she jumped up from her seat and engulfed you in a hug. “You’re hurt,” Maria said as she inspected your wounds. “I’m okay,” you reassured her.

Maria helped you sit down as Natasha went to grab some supplies for your arm. When you sat down Maria sat on your right, pulling you into her and holding you close. You closed your eyes and just enjoyed your mothers warm hug. Her smell and her comfort you missed so much. 

Natasha sat down on your left, carefully pulling the shirt down to get access to your wound. You were still wearing Maria’s oversized shirt, making it easy for Natasha to pull it down and give attention to your wound. Not a word was said, but you knew you were safe in your mothers arms. 

You arrived back at your apartment about two days ago, and even though your mother had Tony up the security on your home, Maria nor Natasha would leave your side. 

While you were enjoying the attention and nurturing they gave you you also felt kind of suffocated. You understood their behavior though, not expecting it to go away anytime soon either. You were currently laying on the couch, your head resting on Maria’s lap and your legs resting on Natasha’s. 

“We love you, you know that,” Natasha suddenly said, breaking the silence. You looked at her a little confused. “Of course I know that. I love you too,” you told her. She looked at you with regret in her face. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” she said, suddenly getting tearful. 

You turned to her completely, feeling Maria’s hand on your back as she helped you sit up. She scooted closer to your mama, crawling up her side and laying your head on her shoulder. “You didn’t hurt me mama, you saved me. Please don’t feel guilty,” you told her as you closed your eyes and held her tight. 

You felt Maria rub your leg in a comfortable motion. She didn’t want to interfere in the moment you were having with your mama, but she did want to let you know she was there for you. 

“I’m so sorry,” Natasha said, wrapping her arms around you tightly. “Please don’t be sorry mama. You saved my life. You have nothing to be sorry for. My shoulder will heal,” you told her, and you felt Natasha nod her head. “I love you,” she told you. “I love you too,” you replied. 

[igncrxntripley]

double trouble

requested by @lokis-queen01 - Would you be able to write a request for Damien Priest x female reader where she is Dominic’s twin sister but she is in a secret relationship with Damien and she joins judgement day with Dominic but also reveals that she is in a relationship with him

a/n: posting this crazy late but pls enjoy :)

mentions: overall SFW, some description of violence within matches, slight emotional manipulation, some family drama, use of google translate, fem!reader, poc!reader, latinx!reader, mysterio twin sister!reader, damianxreader

translations: mi corazón: my heart, sweetheart; princesa: princess; mi princesa, estoy tan orgulloso: my princess, i’m so proud of you; bienvenido a tu nueva familia: welcome to your new family. 

taglist: @thesithdiaries​ @cassiesgreta​ @roseheartsworld​ @theworldofotps​​ @babybatlover​ @ripleyswhore​ @auburnwrites​ @obl1vionblackhart​ @emogoblin-666​ @hereliespumpkin​ @blxxdshxteyes​ @neptune-lover​ @bunnysmyname​ @i-have-issues-lol​ @ares-athena​ @thatonepansexual2000​ @witcherfromwallachia​ @christinabae​

there was no doubt in the world you loved your dad, but he had put both you and dominik on the back burner when it came to your careers. the three of you used to be unstoppable together - a father and his children winning championships and being some of the best in the industry! what could go wrong?

nothing went wrong, per say. but three people entered your lives and helped you see the light; rhea, damian, and finn. three people who had followed your family relentlessly for weeks, months, even, to convince the mysterio twins to join the judgement day. and the two of you fought tooth and nail against it because you were that committed to your dad. 

dominik was the first to finally be convinced. rhea had a way with words, and it was clear just how enamored he was with her. when you found out, though, you were livid. 

--- ---

“you what?” you said, looking at your twin in shock after he told you what he’d decided. “dominik, you can’t be serious. after everything they’ve done to us?” 

dominik shook his head. “y/n, think about it.” he said, a darkness in his eyes that you hadn’t ever seen before. “they can give us what dad hasn’t. you’ve seen how they work together, support one another to be the best they can possibly be. it’s what we need. we could be unstoppable!” he said, grabbing your upper arms as you looked away from him. “i love you, but i’m doing this with or without you. and i don’t want anything to happen to you.”

a scoff left your lips. “oh, you don’t want anything to happen to me?” you asked, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “as if they haven’t already made our lives a living hell. rhea has been manipulating you and spreading these lies through your head!” 

dom squeezed your arms, needing nothing more than for his twin sister to hear him out. “listen to me, please.” he said softly. “i know you’re upset. i get that. but just...just hear them out.” dominik was practically begging you. you knew he wanted the two of you to do this together, but you just couldn’t get behind it. not yet.

--- ---

just as rhea had worked her charm on dominik, ‘the punisher��� of the judgement day had started to make his own move on you. and just like his counterpart, he had a way with words and a certain smoothness to him that had you eating out of the palm of his hand. you weren’t giving into him that easily though. 

--- ---

sneaking around with damian wasn’t easy. if you weren’t careful, someone was going to see you. so the two of you often met up in his hotel room, you leaving your dad and brother at the guise of seeing one of your friends. you knew you couldn’t do this forever, though. so you had to make a decision about damian’s offer. 

this came to a head only a mere week before clash at the castle; you sat in damian’s lap during one of your top secret trips to his hotel room, your arms around his neck and playing with his hair as he gave your hips gentle squeezes. “i can’t do it, dame.” you whispered, the nickname rolling off of your tongue as you looked down at your lap. 

damian leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours. “why not, mi corazón?” he asked softly. “you’re better off with us. we can take care of you; i can take care of you.” he reminded you, the same speech damian had given you for weeks on end during your secret conversations. “we won’t have to hide anymore. and you know if you don’t say yes then...then we can’t do this anymore.”

his words made your chest hurt. while you wanted nothing more than to be with damian and let everyone know you were his, you couldn’t do it at the risk of hurting others. “my dad, though...”

“baby, i know you love your dad.” damian said with a gentle shake of your head, using his finger to lift your chin so he could look at you. “but you’re so much bigger and better than him. both you and dominik have so much potential, and rey hasn’t even scratched the surface.” he was so gentle with his words, so patient as he watched the gears turn in your head. it made your heart flutter, but at the same time your brain wanted you not to believe a word he was saying. “join us, y/n. not just for me, but for you.”

you had decided that night what you were going to do, but you were going to wait to make it clear what your choice was. it was going to be the first step in paving your own path, without the influence of your father. of course damian was thrilled, but you made him promise to keep quiet for just a little while longer. 

cardiff wasn’t ready for what you had planned. 

--- ---

clash at the castle, september 3rd, 2022.

you stood at ringside, next to your twin brother dominik as you both watched the match in front of you; your dad, rey myserio, teaming up with edge to finally put away the judgement day after months of them tormenting your family. not only had they attacked the three of you, this match was meant to put things to bed, give everyone the piece of mind they needed and hopefully get the judgement day off of your backs.

but no one knew what was coming.

you and dominik had talked about everything backstage, away from your dad and away from anyone who didn’t need to hear it. you had a plan, and you were going to make a statement without the help of rey mysterio. this was your moment, dominik’s moment. and no one was going to take it away from you. 

truth be told, most of the match was a blur; you and dominik kept up your gimmick as the proud kids in the background of rey and edge’s moment up until the very end. but eventually you found yourself stood in the ring, next to your brother, watching rey and one of his great friends celebrating their big moment. 

but then dominik made his move, and you knew your plan was officially in action. 

your twin gave edge a low blow, and didn’t even try to hide the smirk that rose on your face as the hall of famer fell to his knees. the shock on your father’s face only fueled your fire, and as edge sat on his knees you followed it up with a superkick to the chin that had his head spinning. 

rey turned both you and dominik to face him, your own chest heaving with rage and anxiety as dominik caught his breath. as twins, your energy had always radiated off of one another and you always did everything as a team; this was no different, your brother’s hand reaching for yours as his way of letting you know you were in this together. 

“por favor, por favor.” your dad pleaded, his hands in front of him as he looked at his eldest children. “listen to me, both of you. please, leave him alone.” one of rey’s hands reached out to hold dominik;s chest as the other held your cheek, and truth be told that alone almost sobered you up. the look in your dad’s eyes through the white contacts almost convinced you to stop this whole thing and walk away...but you didn’t. 

dominik delivered the harshest clothesline he could manage right to your dad’s chest, and you immediately climbed up to the top turnbuckle at the nearest ringpost. the boos in the audience only fueled the adrenaline rushing through your body as you landed the biggest splash of your career so far onto your dad, and you and dominik stood by to look at exactly what you’d done. 

you could only barely hear the judgement day’s laugh behind you as you left the ring with your big brother, hand in hand as you both came to terms with what you’d done. but you knew this was only the beginning, and come monday night, everyone in the wwe universe was going to find out what the mysterio twins had planned for their futures. 

--- ---

monday night raw, two days after clash at the castle. 

you stood backstage next to your twin brother, watching on the monitor as your dad and edge spoke about what you’d done only two days prior. you stood with damian, distanced from the rest of the judgement day so you could have your own moment with him before sealing the your fate. his arms wrapped around your waist, and yours rested on his shoulders as he gave you one final kiss. 

“you look good in all black, princesa.” he said softly, complimenting the black mini skirt and heeled booties you’d chosen. a gentle smirk teased his lips as the two of your gently swayed your bodies; damian knew this was hard for you, and he was doing whatever he needed to do to calm you before you and dominik confronted your father. “let us handle business, okay? and after tonight, everything will be okay.”

you gave damian one more gentle kiss, nodding your head as his words registered in your brain. “thank you. for everything.” you whispered, smiling up at him before you were interrupted. 

“break it up, lovebirds.” rhea teased softly, her own hand interlocked with that of your twin brother’s. “we’ll see you two shortly.” she and the rest of the judgement day made their way to gorilla, and you followed behind with dominik. 

“you’re ready?” he asked you softly, giving dom a small nod as you locked arms with your brother. 

your free hand adjusted the collar of his button-up shirt, giving him a smile that was practically identical to his own. “as ready as i’ll ever be.” you said quietly, standing by the monitor to watch the segment unfold. 

edge made his final call for you and your twin brother to come out to the ring, but edge and your father were met with the screams of rhea’s music much to their disappointment. you both watched, as rhea tormented your father and the hall of famer about how she’d turned dominik into ‘a real man’, and how you were so much more than ‘rey mysterio’s babygirl’. 

truth be told, the next few moments were a blur. you gave your brother one final look, gently squeezed his arm, and the two of you walked out to meet the judgement day to claim your new spots in the group. 

you couldn’t look at the ring, because you knew seeing your dad would only make this more difficult. but oddly enough, you relished in the booing that resounded through the crowd; it made you feel so...good. so powerful. and you could feel that same energy radiating off of your brother as you two walked in slow strides side by side. you both joined rhea’s side, rhea pulling your twin brother closer as your hands busied themselves with the bracelet around your wrist damian had given you backstage.

“dom, y/n...” rey practically begged. you finally looked up at the ring, seeing his pain through the mask on his face. “snap out of it, guys. both of you still have time, so make amends with edge. make things right.” his eyes went directly to you, and even though it hurt to look at your dad in the moment, you stayed strong. “y/n, babygirl, come on.” he begged. “this isn’t you. my little girl wouldn’t do this.”

you watched as your father got out of the ring, closing the distance between yourself and your brother as you met him on the ramp. rhea followed close behind, but your dad stood in front of his twins to make one final plea. “don’t do this.” he said softly, neither you nor your brother even bothering to look at the man in front of you. “i’m talking to both of you. don’t do this.”

the two of you refused to let him intimidate you into giving in. you were no longer going to allow your father to treat you like small children, but rather you were both going to prove to him that you were better than anything he could have ever amounted to. 

“you can’t even look at me in the eyes? see me face to face?” he asked, his voice filled with shock and anger at what he was witnessing. he was so shocked and angry, that all he could do was walk back up the ramp. you and dominik watched, your faces straight and unwavering while rhea had the audacity to laugh at him. the old y/n would have been fuming at someone laughing at her father...but you let that version of you die in cardiff only two days ago. 

the next few moments were a blur; damian and finn had unleashed their attack on edge in the ring, your dad came back out to make one final plea, and he then became the target of his own attack from rhea. but what awoke you from this odd daydream, was the feeling of cold steel being placed into your hand. 

you gave rhea a small nod, climbing up the stairs to the ring to stand side by side with damian. he gave you a smirk, standing to the side to allow you the room to do what you pleased, and with the encouragement of your new-found family you didn’t hesitate to hit edge with that chair as hard as you possibly could. it was hard to even explain the rush through your body as the metal connected with edge’s back, but it felt amazing. 

the boys took over from there until your dad got back in the ring, trying to be a hero as he stood over edge’s body to shield him from damian and finn. but by then you’d all moved out onto the ramp again, damian’s hands pulling your body closer to his as your dad watched. 

damian gently grabbed your cheek, the both of you smirking at rey as your boyfriend pulled you into a kiss. this kiss wasn’t just for show, either; t was the same as every other time damian had placed his lips against yours, all those times you two met in secret before or after shows to discuss your future with the judgement day, and now he was using it as a gesture to show where your loyalty now lied. 

while his calloused hands gently led you back up the ring, smoke practically pouring from your father’s ears, you smiled at the feeling of standing arm in arm with your new family. with four people who wanted nothing but the best from you, and who were going to do everything in their power to build you up rather than put you on the back burner like rey had done. 

this was your moment. dominik’s moment. not rey’s. and the whole world was about to find out who the real mysterio twins were. 

once you were backstage, damian lifted your body up into his arms in the biggest hug he could manage. you hid in his neck, breathing in the spice of his cologne and tangling a hand in his ponytail. “mi princesa, estoy tan orgulloso.” he whispered in your ear. “bienvenido a tu nueva familia.”

you pulled back as damian placed you back onto your feet, giving him one more kiss before smiling at the man who single-handedly turned your life around. “i think i like the other side a lot more already.” you told him softly. letting him lead you back to the dressing room with the rest of the group. 

who knew betrayal could be so romantic?

[cookieeks-art]

Here’s a little project I worked on last year, but kinda, forgot to post? It’s a fake Red shoes art book spread for Edda! The composition, and art styles used, is mainly based on Snow White first page, and Arthur's second page from the actual art book, including of course the artist featured in them (aka Jeon Mi-jin (전미진) who drew the art that the art on the first page and the drawing to the top right on the second page is based on, Kim Sang-jin (김상진) aka Jin Kim who drew the art that the first drawing and the four lower drawings in the second page are based on, and Choi Minjeong (최민정) who drew the the art that the top middle drawing on the second page is based on.) (I had to use Google translate to get the names in the Latin alphabet, so I apologise if there’s any mistakes, I tried to keep the Korean name order for all the names, with the exception of Jin Kim.) [EDIT: I took a closer look Arthur’s first page today and realised that it served as a bigger inspiration for the first page that I drew then I remembered when first posting this, so shout out to that page as well which have two drawings made by Jeon Mi-jin and Choi Minjeong respectively.]

If you’ve been around for a bit you might also notice that two of the drawings on the second page are redraws of older sketches, which I mostly did as a fun treat for myself, since I find redrawing old art pretty fun. I also took this opportunity to give Harriet’s clothes a small makeover, taking some inspiration from Snow herself, a bit from the shapes of Drottning Kristinas gowns (like the drape around her shoulders and how puffy their arms are, and the general shape of the collar), and most likely from looking at details of other dresses I can’t recall at the moment (I do specifically remember looking up images of historical lace collars to get an idea of how they could look, but I don’t remember if I looked at a specific site or what sites I could have looked at in that case). I tried to keep it relatively simple with some spots for details, but looking at it now I’m not entirely sure how well it would fit the movies vine fashion wise (both Regina’s and Snow’s dresses both feel pretty modern to my amateur eyes looking at the cuts and shapes), then again I guess I can always say that the fashion is different kingdom to kingdom I suppose.

Also small shout out to Kay @the-moonlightknight who was someone who helped years ago to actually put words to Eddas personality back when I had to make a reference sheet for a discords event, which is the reference I went back to and used small parts of when writing the text for the first page.

(ID in alt and under the cut)

[ID:

Two fake Red shoes art-book pages depicting my oc Edda and Harriet (A pale chubby woman, with deep eyebags, brown hair and grey eyes).

The first shows Harriet, dressed in a blue dress with lace and snowflake themed embroidery, wearing a crown and matching necklace, with her hair up in a ponytail, is looking forlornly at the viewer, her hands held before her. Edda, dressed in her casual while fluffy shirt, dark muddy red skirt and bodice, and brown leather boots, is looking to the side with a lopsided smile and holding out her knife. Cookieek is written under both of them. Behind them is a wavy dark red graphic with a pattern of thin leaves. In the bottom right corner is two patterns running side by side, one of simple tight stitches, and a more detailed snowflake inspired embroidery pattern. To the upper right of the page is a block of text titled “Edda & Harriet”, and reading: “Edda is a wise woman in the woods that Arthur stumbles upon after entering Frode kingdom to search for it’s missing princess. Edda is also the identity taken on by said missing Princess Harriet after she was able to leave the castle behind. Her life as a mistreated princess has left her jaded and with a distain for nobility and royalty, but her escape has given her hope for a better life. In leaving the identity as Harriet Edda has made a big change in her way of dress, as well as letting the mask she’d been forced into as a royal slip. She’s determined, eccentric, and considerate, with a hunger for magic knowledge. At first she doesn’t realise she’s falling for Arthur, taken in by his ridiculous yet sensitive personality and his way of smiling, but when she does she’s sure she can’t tell him at risk of making things uncomfortable between them. She doesn’t realise that a lot of the ridiculous things Arthur has done has been to show love for her, and that they are both just as willing to sacrifice themselves for the other.”

The second is a page with drawings of Edda and Harriet. The first is a grey scale drawing Harriet looking mentally exhausted, with a thousand yard stare in a profile view. Second is a head shot of Harriet crying in a blue frilly nightgown as pale hands with long nails grip the sides of her face, tips of light brown hair hovering above her. Third is a drawing of Edda sitting and talking to someone while smiling as if she’s about to laugh. Fourth is a collection of greyscale drawings of Edda making a few expressions, such as: 1, looking intrigued while grinning sinisterly with a shadow over her eyes as she holds her chin, 2, looking in awe of something with shine in her eyes, her hands hovering in front of her, 3, looking embarrassed and startled, a blush across her face and her fist held to her chest, 4, scowling deeply with a dark shadow over her eyes. Cookieek is written under all of the images.

End of ID]

[boyakishantrinity]

Very long post below. Refined tbl later. Jist:

Mystery human for my dumb broad story thing's past is captured and what not.

Cackling. Cackling, gripping her sides, a smear of blood trailed off her face.

Ames bound behind her back, blood and sweat caking her face as three aliens held her back. A feral animal of an embassy member, least, that's what every legal document of who she was claimed.

"how the hell-"

"drop the english."

She snapped in kind, a fire erupting in her eyes, with DNA tests linking her to ages before. Even accounting for gravitational warp differences, she was several ages older than any human on record.

And the ones that weren't?

Stories told, ages ago, of warriors. Fighters from a blue and green marble if a planet, a single dip in the flow of the universe. One of many, but this one different.

Monsters, powers that stretched to the far reaches of what was possible, skills and energies left to be coveted as the universe remained in war.

And the worst of them all, of a monster. Someone of those Born once every age, born once per age of those agers.

Darkness, chaos and death.

Dark glass shards, fragments of fine pieces of tools of death.

Old, new, it didn't seem to matter with the man, snapped piece of the general's mighty weapon.

Hand striking his chin, throwing his natural giblets upwards. Staff kicked into a swirl, cackling as the blonde's hair threw itself around.

Flaming swirls, slicing through the cracks and crunching armour. Metal snapping to pieces as the man looked at her.

[cont here if anyone pops any interest.]

The stories told that this person didn't seem, look or appear dangerous. Contrary to anything any form of logic said. The one who was equally forgettable as they were memorable, someone you'd have to think about in association to remember.

That is, unlike the traditional way of associations being remembered as a person.

A shiver ran down the alien's spine. The stories seemed like something to scoff at. Something they'd scoffed at, if it weren't for the strange gaps in their history. Kept in meticulous retention, each one easily ignorable.

But here stood...

Arm hanging behind her, shoulder dislocated, kept from being snapped back in. She'd practically proved the upper limits of what a human could do without power.

Hair kept to one side, frowning as he examined her face.

Not evidence.

He decided.

But certainly something that heavily suggested the idea.

"... It's just a question of whether atau they're real, hmmm?"

Quoting the old prophecy, it made sense with her broad specialties. Scoffing, as the man slammed his bulky arms onto the table.

"who the hell are you?"

"Eleanor Clémentine Françoise et Jean Marie dan Dewi Lanjar, Barong, سلطان بأمر مثل السلطان سامودرا فاساي, prince of darkness and queen of [redacted] but currently. I'm just (a) tujudahn"

"..."

The guards looked surprised at the woman, heads tilted back, blinking as they observed her. Still bound, calm, seemingly bored as she looked around her.

"... Uh huh..."

"... I have more titles if that's not enough to identify me "

[writer note: I'd like to note the translated has a small hint that translates to... Uh...

اسم تابع

I think. But the social implication from the prior words translate to.

زوجة السلطان أي ما يعادلها

Which, in both arab and their culture. Is kinda a big deal, for a variety of reasons ranging from legal immunity, full legal impunity to kill and a right to declare verdict without trial depending on the era and who's dick the sultan's partner chooses to suck off. But anywho.

Also, yes, I seriously spent three months researching arabic structure and social structure to translate this text shit]

"..."

Idk.

[rainparadefromhell]

How Never Have I Ever Uses Music to Hint at the Future

 I’ve always loved the way music tells a story, especially in movies and tv shows. These things usually go unnoticed unless you’re a college student trying to ignore homework on a Tuesday afternoon. I have been aware that NHIE has been whispering a secret story through its soundtrack for a while now but never had time to actually compile it into one monster of a post. So I’m doing it now!

This is where I try to convince you that the show has been hinting at Devi ending up with Ben all the way since season one. There are over 100 songs in the official soundtrack and of course, I can’t go through them all so I’ll just stick with the most important moments from all three seasons and lyrics that I think encapsulate the core message of the songs.

 SEASON 1

 The Pilot – Introductions

Paxton’s intro song (Dancing On My Own – Robyn) makes a lot of sense for both characters. It talks about trying hard to get someone’s attention and failing at it. It is a song with a dramatic, pulsating beat that plays over Paxton’s big entrance into Devi’s class.

 I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her, oh

I'm right over here, why can't you see me? Oh

I'm giving it my all, but I'm not the girl you're taking home, ooh

I keep dancing on my own (I keep dancing on my own)

 Ben is introduced with a softer melody (Rubia – Juan Wauters). It is in Spanish, a language I don’t speak as well so I won’t try to translate it but I will leave you with this Pitchfork review of it written by Steven Arroyo :

“Rubia” still succeeds wonderfully on these terms, a longing love letter to someone with a memorable nose in a far-away country…

 Te guardo un lugar en mi corazon

No quiero irme, chequeo hora son

Me iré pensando que

Muy pronto contigo yo estaré

 There is an important moment near the end of the episode when Devi goes to talk to Paxton (and asks him to have sex with her) in which Playing Games by Anna of the North plays.

 I've been playing games with your heart

Left you thinking in the dark

Just to make you feel unsure

Then I know you want me more

 This whole song is very interesting to me. The singer seems to describe a situation in which she has the upper hand in a relationship.

I’ve been playing games with your heart, so I know I’ve made my mark is a lyric I think perfectly shows Devi’s desire to enter a relationship. It is not because she actually likes Paxton. In fact, she doesn’t even know him yet. I think it tells of Devi’s reasons to have a boyfriend – to make a mark not just on him but the school, and her peers as well. She wants to stop being “invisible” as to somehow regain some power over her situation in s1 (the death of Mohan) as well as distract herself from it.

 Episode 2

The song Dancing on The Limit (by Prizes) plays as Devi dreams of Paxton coming into her room to have sex with her. It is the first “love song” of Devi and Paxton which I find genius since it doesn’t actually depict reality.

I'm never gonna quit it

Back in love within a minute

We're dancing on the limit

But I love the way you're making me move

 It is a fantasy, something Devi feels when she imagines what would be like to be Paxton’s girlfriend.

 Episode 6

In Ben’s episode we get so much more insight into who he is, and not just that shell of an obnoxious overachiever he built for himself. We also get insight into his feelings for Devi when he is having dinner with the Vishwakumars where after choosing not to “nuke her back”, he actually has a fun time with her family as the song (Call Me by Sarah Rebecca) in the background goes :

 Call me angel, I could save you

I want you, I want you, I want you, I want you, I want you

 At the very end of the episode when Devi Venmos Ben so that he never has to “accept food from a pedo again” another love song can be heard (Lost – Boy Harsher).

 I’m the one that holds you

In the middle of the night

 I'm the one that wants you

Forever til we die

 Episode 7

In this episode Devi and Paxton kiss for the first time to Fire For You by the Cannons which at first seems like a really sensual song… until you actually read the lyrics.

 I could've died for you

How could you not know?

I was alive with you

But you brought in the cold

Was I being lied to? Wish I never met you

Started to regret you

  Episode 10

 Boys Like You -  Kids at Midnight

We’ve reached my favorite NHIE song. I love the synths. I love the 80s vibe. I love everything about it (No wonder why that Malibu kiss got an MTV nomination).

Certainly the most interesting thing about this song playing during this scene is right as the camera lowers on Devi’s phone, we cut to Paxton leaving a voicemail with these lyrics in the background :

 She said, "Boys like that should be in second place”

Now do with that what you will but this is the most intentionally placed lyric in season 1, in my opinion.

 I know it hurts right now, one day you'll realise

There's no need to hide yourself from the world

All my life I've been hiding myself

Just waiting for a boy like you

SEASON 2

 Episode 8

In the scene we see Devi apologize to Ben about the cheating when the song Up All Night by The Undercover Dream Lovers starts playing. The song is seemingly about second chances and not letting someone go. I thought the theme of driving was interesting considering Malibu.

 Caught up on the freeway

You test my patience all the time

Find another exit, ooh

Blocking you from mine

 Episode 9

Heat Waves – Glass Animals

 During Paxton and Devi’s kiss Heat Waves plays and I have to admit the song as well as the scene are amazing. However, I’ve seen this song misunderstood by Daxton fans so much, probably due to the scene trending (mostly on TikTok where people enjoy quick content without much context).

The writer of the song, David Bayley says this about what it means, mentioning another song called Your Love : “They're both definitely two of the songs that are about relationships and sort of knowing that they're doomed,"

Bayley uses the term Heat Wave to represent an illusion of a highway mirage (the air that rises off asphalt on extremely hot days making it seem like the road is wet).

So the love that the writer describes is just like the heat waves – an illusion.

 Now I gotta let you go

You'll be better off in someone new

I don't wanna be alone

You know it hurts me too

You look so broken when you cry

One more and then I say goodbye

 Episode 10

GOLDEN – Running ; Ben comes into the girls bathroom to try and make Devi feel better after she is rejected by Paxton. As he is saying “When are you gonna to realize that that dick doesn’t deserve you” the lyrics playing are :

But I get these feelings

That I can't explain

It’s in my veins

being the underdog all the time

 Hello Pongo – Summer Love

Another love song that plays when Ben and Devi see each other at the dance.

I've been lookin,

for you my summer love

forever summer love

Sam Smith – Love Goes

This song is – do you wanna guess? Not a love song. It is a sad one.

I hope you understand that I have to send you away

You may not understand, but I know that you will one day

You're broken, I know this

And if you knew it, you would love me a whole different way

But that's how love goes, goes

I also think it’s funny how just as Devi and Paxton are about to slow dance the DJ plays a different, more upbeat song which tells us they aren’t really that compatible with each other. They just never manage to catch that love song!

 I wonder if season 4 brings us a Ben and Devi slow dance…

SEASON 3

Episode 1

 Josha Daniel – Dream of You ; We finally get something close to a love song for Daxton in the first scene of season 3 even though it it pretty vague and repetitive.

 We are never gonna waste our time again

I can't sleep when i dream of you

I can't sleep when i dream of you

 Ilo Ilo – Clementine ; Devi and Paxton almost have sex

Clementine

Trying to erase you from my spotless mind

Hit fast-forward but I'm stuck in rewind

 Episode 3

Afternoon Bike Ride – Before The Fall ; Devi tells Nalini she and Paxton broke up

After an autumn of ends lеd to silence

Winters cloak covered the tracks of the tyrants

Spring couldn't bring on the promise of June

With no voice to sing and nothing to bloom

I found the mention of June interesting even if it wasn’t intentional because it almost seems like an answer to Heat waves (Sometimes, all I think about is you, Late nights in the middle of June).

Mel Blue – Finding You; Ben tells Fabiola Devi broke his heart

I lost you love

You lost you too

I lost myself

I’m finding you

Episode 5

Carla Morrison – Eres tú ; Ben and Devi say goodbye to each other after their bet at the coffeehouse

(I found a translation for this one)

Today I woke up wanting to kiss you

I have a thirst to caress you

Entangle myself with you and not let you go

You're so intoxicating

It's you

 Episode 10

“Because I’ll miss you. A lot.”

“Wait. There’s the stomach knots.”

Jaguar Sun – Car Keys

Oh, how you've grown

Look back now

And move on

Don't worry, about a thing

Just grab those car keys

And drive into the rain

Another song involving cars, driving… I’m starting to think all of this makes sense! Also I love how the song mentions growth because Devi did grow so much in season 3.

 Prinze George – Take off

 Saw you in the living room

You were wild with light and I wanted you

Tried to do the woman thing

I was eager, young and abandoning

I would force you to love me

I would force you to stay

I would force you to love me

I would stand in your way

And you can't take off without me now

After Boys Like You this has to be my favorite NHIE song. It also has an 80s vibe to it and the two songs feel very much connected in my mind. The lyrics talk about standing in a lover’s way. Preventing them from leaving you and closing that chapter of their life.

I am still in your way

This lyric that appears later in the song shows that after everything that happened to them in season 4, they are still in each other’s way. They can’t forget about each other even after actively pursuing other people.

 After analyzing so many songs, I really have to give credit to the show. Most of these were chosen so carefully to fit certain moments. You can really tell the show was made with a lot of intention and love, at least soundtrack wise.

 As far as proving who the main couple (endgame couple, whatever you wanna call it) in season 4 is, to me that is pretty obvious even without the support of the soundtrack. I’m very curious about the songs we’ll get to hear in the new season and I also wonder if we will hear some old ones again.

Let me know what you think!

[aks-of-the-weak]

Incipit: I believe the meaning of life is to be true to yourself. Identity, through whatever eyes, is always the product of Nature and Culture and naught but Nature and Culture. If there is a Third Source which can inform in any part any given action or perception, than that could possibly be that "True Self" which i seek. This is why i welcome the fact that nobody reads my shitty homestuck fanfiction, it means that writing it is something purposeless, something motivated neither by the Fiery Pulses of Nature, nor the Cold Calculations of Culture. If you think this is overly dramatic, then yes. Yes it is.

7th Post: Taurdeus, Sign of the Author. And would you look at that, i've already started writing bullshit.

Constellation: This is one of the more convoluted signs i've made (and liked). There's a lot you can want to see in it if you wanna. Like, maybe you see a little man jumping in the shadow of the lines. Or maybe that's a flower, the lower shadows are two leaves and the circle is the underside of a petal. But that doesn't explain the lines in the upper-right and upper-left corners. Honestly i'm kinda stumped. The "deus" suffix is an interesting angle. Translated literally from latin, "Taur deus" means "Bull God". By that logic every Bronze sign could be translated to Bullsomething, but i'm struggling here, so give me a break. There's a lot of animals in the Bovidae family that don't have an official constellation irl such as Bisons, Buffalos, Antelopes. Yeah, did you know that Antelopes are a kind of Bovine? Not really what you think of when you think of the Cow's cousin, eh? There's a particular species of Antelope that has four horns (and looks dope as fuck). The sign also has 4 of that "pickaxe shape", but the four-horned antelope's horns are small, straight and sharp, not big and curvy, so i don't think it fits. Ultimately, it comes down to the Constellation metaphor. The Hope aspect and the "the author" title point to themes of the imaginary and creative work, whereas the bulky overloaded symbol points to the theme of "burden". So the metaphor is "the creative burden", someone born under taurdeus's constellation is someone who has difficulty realizing their creative aspirations and someone who has trouble separating creative works from their real life, be that their own works or other. In that sense, of the above options the buffalo makes the most sense, i think. Bisons have larger heads and comparatively smaller horns than buffalos, plus buffaloes have curvier horns more akin to the sign's shape. So the Buffalo constellation it is. I tried to make the constellation with a lot of stars since the sign has a lot of lines itself.

Physicality: When i tried to leave a character's gender ambiguous until i developed them more they ended up settling as NB, and that kinda pissed me off. I'd rather make a character be NB explicitly than have them be that way because i fucked up and couldn't decide. That's to say, i'll be setting gender from the start from now on, and this one's gonna be a girl, because i have too many boys already. With a sign like that, the First thought was "This troll needs fuckhuge horns that burdens her head", right? But i already did that with Bahkos, plus there's another fuckhuge-horns-looking bronze sign coming up eventually, so here's an alternative idea: This troll has much denser and harder horns than normal, so despite them not being properly gigantic they still put a great burden on her neck. The shape of it is that of a Cape Buffalo's horn, with the horns forming a sort of helmet on top of her head. Since her horns are so heavy, she probably wants less mass elsewhere, so her hair is really short. So what else is there to consider? In terms of psionics, we have no psionics. In terms of weapons, we have no weapon. This troll, you see, is a little weakling. She has no combat skills, no supernatural abilities, no charisma to lead or conquer. She is a tiny little weakling who i could squash easily with one hand. Very murderable.

Backstory: So how does a troll get through alternian life, all the way to exile, with such an eminently crushable spine? Well, let's do some worldbuilding. You see, many trolls believe in soulmates. That for each each quadrant there is one other troll that is truly destined to them (that's canon, not something i made up). So, if even an heiress falls in love with a lowly burgundy, as long as she claims "it's the work of fate" other high-bloods won't find her fault. For a lowblood, this arrangement can be highly beneficial and as such they will gain the derogatory nickname of "Jewel". Richel Cullan is one such Jewel. Moirail to one Purple blood powerful even amongst Purple bloods, she never had to fight or scavenge for a day in her life. She had all expenses unlimited and most of her 9 sweeps on alternia were spent indulging in entertainment media. Novels, Movies, Television, Video Games, and Arts of many kind. In those times, Richel amassed a truly remarkable collection of media, some rare, some banned, some unique. She helped preserve those works by making copies and distributing them online. And she was proud of that work. Once she went off-world, she hoped to pull on her moirail's influence to become an imperial librarian helping to manage the empire's archives, a task generally assigned to teal bloods, but not outside of lower caste's reach. 

But on one night, her hope shattered. Her moirail had solidified his power over the sweeps, accruing a whole retinue of subordinates, both loyal and fearing. Mostly fearing. What woke Richel from her dreams that night was the heat of the flames covering half the neighborhood, ex-allies battling in the streets over who would be the new boss, and a mob banging at the door, wanting something to make a show of the death of the old regime. "Your Moirail is dead, Jewel" one of them yelled as pieces of the door fell to the floor. Richel never got to know how, exactly, her moirail died. She barely made it out of that hive and out of that town with the help of a mysterious stranger she had bonded with the night before. She spent the next two weeks experiencing the alternia she never knew, desperately escaping wild beast and murderous trolls, barely scavenging enough food to live off of. She wouldn't have lasted much longer had the drones not picked her off for her exile. Of her once great collection she barely had a small box left, which she had clung to desperately even wading through the alternian mud. With no on-record accomplishment, no powers or skills, no influence with highbloods, not even any belongings, the career paths for Richel were nil. After receiving a standard-issue rifle and combat uniform, she was shipped to the frontline to serve as cannon fodder.

But she survives! Two Sweeps later, she is still there, her hard-as-a-helmet horns having saved her from more than one close call. Her combat performance are nothing impressive, but her infantrymates have gotten to calling her "the dead girl", because under a rain of explosions she still sleeps deeply as a corpse. They don't know how she does it. But i do, dear reader. She sleeps so deeply because even now, she still dreams.

Excipit: Aaaand that's a wrap. This one was such a fiasco. I wrote Constellation and Physicality, and then i tried writing a Short Story because i loved the short story last time, but this time it just didn't work. Short stories are a cool way to characterize a personality, but this time i had a whole backstory to jam in there and it ended up meandering and going nowhere. So i had to cut it. And now i was sitting there, with the character fully characterized from the process and only half the post written. I sat on that for like three months because i couldn't be fucked until just tonight. And the whole time it was sitting on my mind, i was going "oh, i have free time, i should finish the post", but then i'd go "nah, i have to wake up early tomorrow" or get distracted by other projects. That said, i really do enjoy this writing format. I always have a blast writing each part of it, when i can get to it. This excipit is way too long, Aks.

[iangallagherisadeadman]

I made a post another day about how I can't comprehend those imagines people write about Lip cause they're just describing a totally different character, Lip has never treated none of his romantical partners that way so I just do not understand where that comes from, and therefore I said I can't understand how people are attracted to him.

I do stand by what I said but it kept me thinking, cause I received some answers and now I do see what the appeal is: Lip is a malandro.

I don't know if there's an equivalent translation for the term cause I believe it is essentially a Brazilian thing but a malandro would be this man who always has the upper hand since he's streetwise and has some brains which leads to the ability to take the best of every situation. Like a rascal? A scoundrel?

A malandro lives life kind of freely, lightly; he fits the space he is put in, he is a natural. He would avoid the complicated and to compromise, wants to live an easy life, and his motivations can be perceived as laziness. The term is associated to young criminal men usually — no good thing could come of someone like this —, and there's this appeal of this boyish man, a bad person but not necessarily a bad boy, who knows how to have a good time and is always breaking rules, the men no father desire to their daughter, the way he's a promise of a good time for any women, that leads to his attractiveness.

A malandro also has the gift of the gab (which I love cause in portuguese we say "ser bom de lábia" or "ter lábia" which directly translates to "have a lip" in the meaning of having its ways with words, knowing how to speak and convince and even fool someone easily).

Just from this description, Lip fits it better than any other shameless character.

there's how he made money easily: often scammed people like the northwest guys to work for free, later to visit Fiona's club, then when he was a trainee stealing money and taking their tablets and all, also selling weed and fireworks, selling homework and school projects and then the SAT thing — he never really gets a conventional job or source of income, and when he had aka s5 construction he left it to travel to Miami.

then his dating: he first got with Karen with the whole dirty tutoring and even madly in love with her he never really wanted her as a girlfriend; Mandy was flirting and having sex at his little sister's sleepover, and then she kind of made herself his girlfriend and he let her cause it was comfortable for him; Amanda's parents hated him and later she did too cause he gets sick of her and kind of ghosted her; he was smartfunny and had a quick mouth and got into his professor Helene's pants; i don't really remember Sierra but he was the cute boss younger brother etc.; and Tami was the easy fuck. The point is, he doesn't compromise, he's the promise of easy good sex, he cheats and lies.

and other stuff like he was not only a genius but smart, making good connections with older and powerful people like his professors; the way he never really looked forward to college or any other accomplishments really and he hated the pressure and expectations people had with him; how he was always committing delicts by breaking things, getting expelled from school, stealing, working with JimmySteve, underage drinking, etc.

[larathia]

BSD Manga reread, ch’s 1-10

I’ll be kind and not spam and only post after I’ve reread 10 chapters at a go.

And I’ll use cuts, too. Cos this time THERE WILL BE PICTURES.

Chapter One

* My first thought here is ‘wow, Dazai’s manner of speech is different’. I’m...not sure I can quite place how, and it could of course just be a translator thing, but he sounds rather more refined here at the beginning of things than he generally does later. (I’m not saying he speaks crudely, just...he gives much more of an upper class impression here, somehow.)

And he reads. I didn’t notice this the first time around because - it’s a series about literary greats, no? So of course there should be reading? But on a reread, I’m finding myself going “wow, almost nobody is seen reading.”

* There are three things that happen here, that I think are why Dazai chooses to take Atsushi under his (and, collectively, the Agency’s) wing. Firstly, while alone and clearly afraid of everything up to and including literally his own shadow, Atsushi chooses to save the life of a stranger. (He couldn’t KNOW that Dazai would’ve rather have been left alone. Point is - the kid chose to be kind, in a city that - we are repeatedly told and shown - does not have much kindness in it.) Secondly, on saving someone’s life, and being offered a reward, and while obviously starving, he just asks for chazuke. Which we’re told is basically just a dish meant to clean rice out from a bowl. It’s apparently the equivalent of saving a well-to-do person’s life and asking for a PB&J.  So now we have “kind and apparently humble”. And lastly, and this one seems to be the clincher, Atsushi tells Dazai his story in the warehouse and it’s clear that this boy has nothing to live for, and no one who’d be the slightest bit upset by his death...yet he chooses to live. WANTS to live. And even so, choosing to live and wanting to live, he has in no way ...well. Become a beast.

Contrast ALL of this with what we later learn about Dazai’s meeting with Akutagawa. And with what we later learn of Dazai’s own outlook and inclinations. Atsushi is practically Dazai’s diametric opposite...yet there’s no friction here. No competition, no judgment. Atsushi doesn’t even realize that he’s made a very quirky, and rather dangerous, friend. But because he DID, we have ...well, the whole story.

I would be remiss if I did not include probably the single most ignored bit of canon in this entire series.

The number of people who feel the deep-seated need to ignore or deny this one panel is really kind of amazing, when you get down to it. I just thought I’d mention that yes, Dazai being straight is, actually, canon. Chapter one, never actually recanted or disproved in the text canon. It’s important to remember what is canon and what is fanon. It prevents fandom-related insanity.

ANYWHO. MOVING ON.

Chapter 2

Atsushi’s entrance exam. On a reread, what mostly sticks out to me here is what Atsushi learns about Dazai.

Firstly, Atsushi learns that seriously, Dazai’s suicide attempts have completely numbed the Agency to even the idea Dazai might need help:

Secondly, Atsushi learns that Dazai is very much a trickster entity who might be your friend and might look out for your best interests, but has ZERO problem lying and/or putting you through the wringer in order to do so.

He definitely remembers both of these lessons later. It doesn’t hurt that he gets a lot of reminders.

Chapter 3

* Tanizaki is, genuinely, a pretty nice guy on average, and takes a non-mentorly kind of ‘take Atsushi under his wing’ approach. Sort of senior-but-equal.

* Ah, the famous ‘guess Dazai’s former job’ scene. Now, I get why Dazai wasn’t exactly free to admit it (given all the work the government did to cover up his past) but I feel, on reread, that the fandom should admit Kunikida totally had Dazai figured out. And absolutely deserves the financial reward.

Like, seriously. What we later learn is Kunikida was 100 percent right on both counts - Dazai just wasn’t free to admit it.

He promises he ‘won’t lie’. And...very technically, VERY VERY TECHNICALLY, he isn’t? I mean yes, ‘scoundrel’ covers pretty much the entire Mafia, and ‘shipping container’ would in most cases be considered synonymous with ‘homeless’, so I do feel Kunikida is right to claim the pot. But at the same time, “mafia don” is ...rather above and beyond mere ‘scoundrel’ and ‘capable of living in five star hotels but CHOOSING a shipping container’ is not what comes to mind when one says ‘homeless’. There’s a hell of a lot of nuance that lets Dazai’s assertion that he ‘won’t lie’ technically stand, while at the same time allowing Kunikida to be 100 percent right.

But at the base level I’m going to call this as “the only reason Dazai doesn’t admit to his past here is because at the time he probably couldn’t.” This little pot of betting money never comes up again, but I like to think that when Dazai does finally admit his Mafia connections to Kunikida later on, he hands over the pot as well. (Yes, yes, I know. Fanon vs Canon; this is a guess/hope.)

Canonically, what we as readers learn is yes - Dazai will lie. Context is required to understand why and to what degree, but yeah - Dazai will totally lie.

* And we’re introduced to Higuchi and Akutagawa. And Dazai’s tricks (again). This time it’s the headphones, listening to the transmitter he put in Higuchi’s pocket. And the lyrics to his ‘double suicide’ song, which I suppose we have to figure he just made up on the spot to ‘explain’ why he’s wearing headphones, since just saying “I’m listening to our client on the sly” would ...not come off well with Kunikida after that whole ‘drag Dazai into the closet for a beating’ thing.

* Tanizaki really is a pretty decent detective. And his ability is much better in combat than he thinks; it’s really only down to his Light Snow that everyone came out of their first encounter with Akutagawa alive.

Chapter 4

* Wow. Dazai really did come RIGHT over once the fighting started.

* And we learn that sweet, observant, polite Tanizaki has a really hard ‘cross this and die’ line; Fuck Thou Not With His Sister. Accompanied by impressive crazyface.

* This is also Akutagawa and Atsushi’s first fight. Given that Atsushi’s still reeling from a lot of revelations, he did pretty well.

* And now we, the readers, know that Kunikida was right; Dazai was a scoundrel. A professional and high ranking one. Even so, on reread, it’s this panel that sticks out as “whoa”.

Because while we learn in this chapter that Dazai is ex-Mafia, it’s much later that we learn just what his relationship with Akutagawa was. And how very, very much this single mocking sentence would cut Akutagawa.

Dazai gets a lot of information out of Aku here. But all his actual concern is for getting Atsushi, Junichiro, and Naomi back to base.

Chapter 5

Dude, you totally are. And I think it’s Kunikida’s state of “totally rattled” that really pushes Atsushi to think that the only thing he can do to protect the Agency is run away from it.

We’re then introduced to the Black Lizard, which upsells the whole ‘must run away’ idea, We’re given a brief introduction to Tachihara and Gin, which is at least useful to remember for later.  And we realize that Higuchi hasn’t processed that Dazai is ex-Mafia. (Probably fair, since most people don’t seem to survive trying to be ex-Mafia.)

And Atsushi learns that he doesn’t have to ‘protect’ the ADA. They’re totally capable of protecting themselves, Kunikida’s case of nerves notwithstanding.

Chapter 6

Our introduction to Ranpo. (And Atsushi’s.) And all we get at first is the sheer awe that everyone holds Ranpo’s power in. And a hell of a lot of Atsushi’s “so done with you crazy people” face.

This is very much a ‘Dazai mentoring’ chapter; he’s the one advising Atsushi to watch closely, and he’s the one that pushes Atsushi to take action when the bad cop tries to use his gun on the group. (Dazai’s also apparently pleasantly surprised that Atsushi managed to handle that well, taking the officer down without killing or injuring him or anyone else...but yeah, Dazai’s probably still comparing Atsushi to Akutagawa here.) Dazai’s the one to show Atsushi that Ranpo isn’t using a supernatural skill, too, just his head - walking Atsushi through those details he himself can spot, as a kind of training session.

He really isn’t a bad mentor. But he’s very much a trickster mentor - Atsushi just has the weird luck to be mentored by this setting’s equivalent of Loki. He learns! Valuable lessons! Just...not exactly in an orthodox manner.

Chapter 7

I tend to focus on Dazai, because he’s a character you kind of HAVE to figure out from context (given he’s a trickster, and often, a deceiver), so ...bear with me a bit here.

The first note is the face he makes when Kyouka corners him:

We don’t know exactly why he makes this face at the time, because we don’t get a clear view of what ability Kyouka has...but realistically, this has to just be startlement that the Mafia Really Wants To Talk To Him Right Now. Because...Demon Snow cannot hurt Dazai; she’d be dispelled at the first touch. And ...frankly, Kyouka may be a skilled assassin but she’s 14 and very direct and in a straight up fight I’d put money on Dazai. So when Dazai’s accused of ‘letting himself be captured’...yeah, he totally LET himself be captured. There’s evidence enough to support that. (Now, ask me why Akutagawa SENT KYOUKA, when he knows damn well what Dazai’s skillset is, and I find myself thinking “Aku wanted to see if Dazai would kill her for him, didn’t he.” Akutagawa knows Dazai has no real problem murdering people. Dazai’s tried to kill Aku, after all.

And then we’re back at the Agency, and treated to a reminder that really, Atsushi is the only member of the ADA willing to accept even the idea that Dazai might actually be in trouble, or need/want help.

Sadly...Atsushi is also wrong - since Dazai DID let himself be captured, and DOES kinda have that whole situation under control...but the thing is, no one in the ADA really knows that, or even HAS a way to know that; they’re just (mostly) fed up with Dazai’s suicide attempts.

And it’s not that Atsushi necessarily disagrees with everyone’s assessment? He totally accepts that maybe Dazai did try to kill himself (again), or is in control of whatever situation he’s landed in. It’s just that Atsushi also accepts that he doesn’t KNOW that - and that, incidentally, he seems resolved to interfering with Dazai’s suicide attempts regardless - and so he’ll go anyway. Which makes him utterly unique in the entire BSD setting, when you think about it. Everyone else that has ever tried to keep Dazai alive, has done so for selfish reasons. Atsushi...just doesn’t want Dazai to die. He doesn’t have work for Dazai to do, doesn’t seem to need him for anything...he just doesn’t want Dazai to be dead. Which may be the only reason Dazai doesn’t ever get mad at Atsushi about it.

Atsushi also doesn’t have the slightest hint of self preservation. Which we’ve seen twice now; first with the fake bomb, second against Akutagawa, and now here - and Yosano snags him to go shopping.

For...lemons, among other things...

Given what happens later, I find the bag full of lemons just kind of ...on the nose.

Also. Let it be known that I adore and admire Yosano and this right here is absolutely why.

This woman owns my soul and you can’t get it back from her.

Yosano also wins points for being the first to realize that Atsushi’s power is a little more than just “turning into a big white kitty cat”.That Atsushi doesn’t just ‘heal’. Something more is going on.

This chapter does a lot to introduce Yosano and her basic outlook on life. She’s fearless, resolute, ruthless, and has zero patience for perverts and idiots. But she’s kind enough to Atsushi in her own way - willing, I suppose, to accept that he’s not stupid so much as he is ignorant of protocol.

Chapter 8

Still on the train.

We’re now given a proper introduction to Kyouka. Atsushi, here, has his little epiphany - if he can save other people, then he can justify his existence.

And because he has this epiphany - because he’s brought pain and misery to others due to circumstances beyond his control, but does not want to die - he’s able to push Kyouka into wanting to escape the dark too. Although, much like Atsushi’s first attempt was curling around what he thought was a live bomb, Kyouka jumps from the train.

And Yosano, man, I would just put every panel with Yosano on here if I could, because I adore her so very much in this chapter. Just picture me back in the stands, waving a ‘go yosano’ flag and cheering. She’s awesome. I love her.

Chapter 9

We open on a discussion of Kyouka, and Kunikida being...kind of an ass. Again. Because someone has to say the obvious and unpleasant truth, and that tends to be Kunikida’s job. And Atsushi ...probably doesn’t even realize that he takes a page from Dazai’s book here. It’s much easier to get information from someone who’s comfortable and at ease with you, than it is to beat information out of them. Atsushi saw that firsthand, when he was the interrogation subject back in chapter 1. But Atsushi doesn’t have Dazai’s leverage with Kunikida, and has to pick up the tab himself. And once more, Kunikida lays out the obvious, unpleasant truths.

(I feel like at this point someone should be asking, “If Kyouka’s so clearly condemned, and she’s only been with the Mafia a little while, how the fuck was Dazai able to just walk out?” - not that we get the answer to that for a LONG time...)

That isn’t the question that Atsushi asks, though. He asks a question much closer to the heart of his character:

And ...I want to say that I think this is actually a very central question, at the very heart of the series’ conflicts. Not about Dazai specifically, but why does anyone reach out to help anyone when there’s nothing in it for them to do so?

Look - we know, as of current time (all the chapters since this one, and all the LNs and spinoffs and all that) that the reason ‘why Dazai reached out’ was that this was something Oda asked Dazai to do with his dying breath. Look after orphans. Protect the weak. Why was Oda kind? Because Natsume was kind to Oda, and Oda’s paying it forward.

And why did Dazai heed Oda’s request? Because, ultimately, Oda was kind to him. Kind when it not only didn’t get Oda anything, it actually put Oda at risk and ultimately cost Oda his life. One person was kind to Dazai. They made one request, and that pushed Dazai forward.

And then in turn Dazai is kind to Atsushi. When it doesn’t benefit him to do so, and in fact incurs debt at first - hiding Atsushi from the police, getting him a place to stay, etc. It doesn’t benefit Dazai to do any of this, nor does he require any repayment from Atsushi for it.

Natsume was kind to Oda. Oda was kind to Dazai. Dazai is kind to Atsushi. And now Atsushi, in turn, wants to be kind to Kyouka.

So very much of this entire series pivots on a single chain of kindness.

And a hell of a lot of unkindness.

The story slips back to Dazai, chained to a wall, and being particularly chill about it. You can pretty much tell Akutagawa finds this utterly incomprehensible...but then, his power can’t hurt Dazai, and Dazai truly wouldn’t care even if it could. Dazai mocks Akutagawa...a LOT. And we find out now for certain that Dazai wasn’t just ‘ex mafia’. He’s an ex-mafia don, a leader, executive, and Aku’s former mentor.

And he is merciless. He rips right into any and all aspects of Akutagawa that might hurt Aku, anger him, upset him. You can practically see Dazai smashing little chisels into every one of Aku’s (many) braincracks. And then he adds the finisher, which will take all of Aku’s hurt and rage and aim it at Atsushi:

We know, from later chapters, why Dazai does this. He knows of old that Akutagawa is obsessed with proving himself, and that the only way Akutagawa knows of to do that is attack and defeat what he sees as his enemy. Dazai also knows that Atsushi has the potential to get through to Akutagawa - as well as survive Akutagawa’s power. He’s throwing these two at each other because both of them will learn just as much from each other as either ever could from him, and he’s well aware someone is yanking some strings in the background.

(And I’m pretty sure he really, really doesn’t want to have to deal with Chuuya.)

If Double Black isn’t going to handle whatever the new situation is, then a replacement team must be forged. Despite what Dazai tells Akutagawa here, we know from side media (the Mimic affair, specifically) that Dazai actually thinks well of Akutagawa’s powers. He just doesn’t think much of Akutagawa’s ability to learn to use it effectively.

The scene switches back to Atsushi, being kind to Kyouka. Which ends with Akutagawa kidnapping Kyouka and attacking Atsushi.

Kindness and unkindness. In this chapter, Dazai’s ultimately at fault for all of it.

Such a trickster. So very Loki.

Chapter 10

Junichiro is, again, the gentle/kind member after Atsushi. And Kunikida is, again, the one to lay out unpleasant facts, although this time Ranpo’s willing to help. The ADA are not really a team, at this point - they’re a collection of employees. There’s no expectation of anyone going out on a limb for anyone else.

Thankfully, Naomi - and Fukuzawa - aren’t gonna be having with any of that shit. That Fukuzawa - who’s had almost NO interaction with Atsushi - is willing to turn the whole Agency on its ear on Atsushi’s behalf...says a hell of a lot about the man’s integrity and sense of honor. This isn’t just a ‘collection of employees’, to him. They are his people. That’s how his ability works, how it can help them. “His people” may not yet be bonded with each other, but from Fukuzawa’s position, they are all connected to him. Once they are his, he will watch over them. Which gives us this gem:

And again, this is something that hits harder after you’ve read all the manga, and all the side stuff, and you realize what Fukuzawa is delivering here isn’t a counter-argument. It’s a very personal bitchslap, reminding Ranpo that Fukuzawa has stuck his neck out for Ranpo, especially in their early years working together, and that Ranpo denying aid to another because it isn’t “logical” is basically Ranpo saying that he didn’t deserve help either. There’s...seriously no way Ranpo’s even going to try making that argument.

And then we cut to Dazai’s little dungeon. I think it’s important to realize that the entire interaction was something Dazai expected - and staged. Much like his interaction with Akutagawa before, everything Dazai says or does with Chuuya in the room is designed to get a specific reaction out of Chuuya.

This is the truth - these panels just before Chuuya enters.

And this interaction truly is a work of art, because Chuuya may not be on Dazai’s level intelligence-wise, but he’s not actually stupid. He knows what Dazai is like - he just isn’t quick enough to avoid the traps. It’s like knowing a magician isn’t REALLY using magic, just sleight of hand, and maybe even knowing how one or two of the tricks work, but being absolutely fooled by all the others.

You’re not wrong, Chuuya. And frankly, your observations are just as valid for Dazai-now as they are for Dazai-in-the-mafia. But the minute you said “I don’t know what you’re planning”, you should’ve realized you’d already lost. Even Atsushi can pick up on that much.

The chapter ends with a lot of hustle and bustle at the ADA, and ultimately, Ranpo being nudged into giving the ADA directions. The rescue is on.

Next up will be chapters 11-20 :)

[monkeydluffy19920]

Quick thoughts about Nami’s dress

Randomly remembered that years ago I was told that there is an old belief (at least in Finland) that if a female guest dresses in red in someone’s wedding it means that she has slept with the groom.

Googled this out of curiosity and according to one Finnish website the myth still exists in some places. Same article also wrote about symbolism behind the color [translated]:

Red is a strong color that indicates passion, love and erotic. It’s been considered as daring and brave choice, even inappropriate.

Oda-sensei told in one SBS that if Straw Hats were from modern world, Nami would be from Sweden. It’s our neighbor country and since we share some history together, wanted to search whether they have similar old beliefs and found this one website writing following [translated]:

Namely, there is a Swedish tradition that claims that the wedding guest who comes in red signals that she is the groom's girlfriend next door. The color is called the mistress' color.

This made me wonder whether red color is “forbidden” color in other wedding cultures as well or is this a thing just in a few countries?

Also, ever since One Piece started, Nami’s english nickname has been Cat Burglar, which means “a thief who enters a building by climbing to an upper storey”.  Then in japanese she is called Dorobo Neko, which roughly means “husband  stealer“ [further about this topic @sanjiafsincedayone​‘s post here].

Her epithet became quite literal in Whole Cake Island arc since she basically stole the groom of the arc twice. First when Sanji rescued her from falling from Smoothie’s grip and left Pudding standing surprised and then later when the cook returned to Sunny after baking the cake she welcomed him with a warm hug and teary eyes.

It’s said that Oda-sensei spends loads of time on background work when it comes down to his characters and One Piece in general. So, based on that, it almost felt like a there could be strange odds regarding to this topic (if we think about that Northern “tale” and suddenly seeing one of a main characters in Sanji’s retrieval mission wearing a red colored dress).

However, although me admitting being a shipping trash, I highly doubt Oda would have left such a hidden message to the manga (based on a random old "rumors” from Scandinavia even though Nami indeed stole Sanji from the wedding with that bridal carry and so on already in canon). Reason? Well, as I tend to say, mainly because this is shōnen after all.

Since the target group is more interested in the fights and action in general (instead of romantic relationships), there would simply not be any point for Oda to randomly indicate indirectly to the reader “btw these 2 have slept togeher and Nami wants to tell it here in the wedding she is about to crash”.

The idea of Oda coincidentally combining Nami’s sbs-location and her wedding crasher-outfit to Northern Europeann “beliefs” sounds indeed tempting but that kind of hints (that have no “proper” point reflected to the main story) wouldn’t be his style, although he likes to drop clues and to foreshadow in general.

Anyway, there is one thing we can all agree, the dress Nami chose for the wedding is really pretty, especially when she has her hair done nicely  as well! ;)

[llamagoddessofficial]

I saw the notes of that last post, the spiderweb thing... Sans looks lonely there, just watching..

Hweee.... idk why the Portal AU in particular is so inspiring for me. It just is. 

Warning: some Spicy Angst in here

--

... i feel nothing.

The majority of his consciousness acted like a net, a web of channels and thoughts and commands that stretched over vast areas of the underground laboratory, monitoring and checking and surveying trillions of times a second. Red was charged with the repairing and maintenance of the test chambers and inner workings of the facility, so Sans didn’t have as much to do as he once did alone... but he was still busy, still making his way through an infinite checklist. It remained his job to oversee everything, ensure that it was up to scratch, that not a hair was out of place...

... That he didn’t have time to think.

...

... A small part of him, the absolute core of his mind, remained in one spot. Not by choice. He was tied here- to the physical shell his consciousness had been unwillingly uploaded into all those years ago. Every part of him, no matter how far it reached, was forced to interconnect back to this single spot.

...

It resembled a skeleton, supported in a standing position by reinforced bars around its middle. What a cruel joke; putting him in a robotic mockery of his old biological body. Flawless white metallic bones interconnected with smooth navy wiring, pristine in a modern and ugly way- whichever scientist had designed it must’ve had an eye for brutalist aesthetics. It was a pity they didn’t have an eye for morality... it would’ve been interesting to ask them how they came up with the design they did. Too bad they were too busy being dead to entertain any of Sans’ questions.

... The body was placed in the centre of a large, dark cylindrical chamber, untouched and unentered since the day he took control and eagerly wiped out his tormentors. Protruding out of the body and connecting into the walls and ceiling were thousands upon thousands of black wires, thick and thin alike, like an ugly dark spider’s web with him at the centre. They had to fit a lab’s worth of connections to one human-sized figure, after all. They ejected from his spine, his shoulder blades, elbows, the back of his skull, like great masses of jet black string, 1900s telephone wires... so many came from his head, in fact, that part of his smooth white skull plate had been removed to better facilitate the connection. The upper quarter of his face, just connecting his right socket, was left with the black machinery bare to the world...

like someone had cracked his skull open. heh.

...

... He was immobile. The wires that held him in place, the chains, were ironically his life support. If even one disconnected it would cause any number of potentially fatal malfunctions that could do anything from wiping chunks of his memory to causing a complete reactor meltdown to just... killing him on the spot.

...

He wasn’t even sure why the scientists who’d made this body had given it the option to move if it was so obviously never going to. The spider at the centre of the web was choked by his own metallic silk. So he remained bound, he remained frozen... the only parts of him moving as years slipped by being the little white lights in his sockets and, rarely, the tips of his phalanges.

...

... It didn’t matter that he could single-handedly maintain a city-sized enrichment centre. That he could control a reactor core while manufacturing turrets and bots in the hundreds, while creating new tests and interacting with multiple subjects. Because in the end... he was still trapped.

...

He always told himself he had no cause for complaint. He could move the entire rest of the facility- every part of it was under his command. He was a God, down in the laboratory, he could create and destroy as he so pleased. So long as he was distracted elsewhere in the lab, so long as his eyes and ears were occupied and busy, he could pretend like nothing was even wrong.

...

...

It was why slow nights where everything was going well were the worst.

He had nothing to do. Nothing to concentrate on. Red was handling whatever needed to be done in the core and around the test rooms, no major faults could be found in the systems or supports. There was no sign of either the escaped subject H4 or that... monster wandering the lower levels. And so, naturally, his awareness had returned to the place where the core of his being was locked; the ugly mass of wiring in a sealed, pitch black chamber in the heart of the facility.

His facility. His world. His plaything. His home. 

His prison.

...

His eyelights glanced an inch off to the side, and a robotic arm rose up from the floor close by. It unfolded, revealing a screen that moved close to his stationary face and blinked into life, a sudden burst of light in the usually oppressively dark chamber. It illuminated his skull, his permanently smiling mouth, the tree of cables sprouting from his form casting bizarre and thin shadows across the walls.

... The screen flickered between several channels, before landing on the one he’d been searching for.

...

It was the live feed from the camera in your relaxation chamber. His eyelights dilated a fraction as they focused on your form, wrapped in blankets on your bed. In an instant, part of his awareness reached out to that relaxation chamber... it integrated itself into the system, the walls, the radio and speakers, even the lamp by your bedside... blanketing your room.

... Immediately, he began to bury himself in all the information he could about how you were at that moment. Your heartbeat and breathing were slow and regular, your eyelids were still, suggesting you were in the deep stage of sleep. heart rate 55 bpm. life signs: stable. brain activity low.

You were pretty tightly bound in the blankets, curled up a little, perhaps you were too cold? He increased the temperature of the room by a few degrees. 

core temperature 37c, 98.6f. body mass and nourishment sufficient; paler skin, more vitamin d required. consider supplement tablets or increased uv exposure.

... A supply bot was going to pass by the outside of your chamber in a few moments. He redirected it, in case it disturbed you.

i miss warmth. i miss sleeping.

...

You rolled over, some of the covers slipping away a little. He could see your shoulders, and neck.

... heart rate 54 bpm. life signs: stable. brain activity low.

...

... Your face was so peaceful.

...

it’s not fair. 

You nuzzled into the pillow a little.

i want to touch her. i want to touch her skin. i want to touch her hair.

Emotions that once would’ve translated into physical pains were instead restricted to only his mind, wreaking untold havoc on a consciousness that was, at its core, organic. 

why can’t i feel anything? why did they take that away from me? i never wanted this.

Secluded in an artificial body, forced into a state of constant mental deterioration... eternally collapsing in on itself, but never able to die.

why did they do this to me?

it’s not fair. she looks so warm. so soft. i can’t even remember what warm or soft feels like. i can’t remember what anything feels like anymore. i can’t remember. i can’t remember

He couldn’t even reach up to touch the screen. His eyelights remained zeroed in on your sleeping face.

please help me

With no ability to detect physical sensations on his skeletal body, Sans was unaware of the streaks of black dripping from his sockets, reflecting the flickering light of the screen.

h̸e̶l̴̬̉p̴ m̴e̷ ,

...

WARNING: Core instability detected. Emotional Sphere compromised. Commencing system refresh...

...

Reboot complete. Welcome back, Sans.

[potteresque-ire]

This post is Part 4 of the five-part meta series on the Zhang Zhehan (張哲瀚) Incident, based on what has transpired up to 2021/08/22.

1) The 2nd Sino-Japanese War (1937-45) & the Yasukuni Shrine 2) Post-War Sino-Japanese Relations; “Every Chinese should visit the Yasukuni Shrine” 3) The Summer of 2021: The Brewing Storms for One 4) My Thoughts on Zhang’s Incident, Part A 5) My Thoughts on Zhang’s Incident, Part B

4) My Thoughts on Zhang’s Incident, Part A

Now, I’m finally going to dive into Zhang Zhehan’s incident. They’re, of course, my personal opinions, based on what’s known until 2021/08/22, and I’m talking about them not as a turtle, not as a Gg or Dd fan, not as a fan at all—but as … me. A Hong Konger, half-way American, and representative of neither.

I should start with a confession.

While, in the parts before, I wrote as if there were signs enough that I could see this coming, that I could see Zhang being handed the severe punishment that he had… I actually didn’t. I thought it would stop at People’s Daily critique of Zhang’s apology letter posted on August 13th, and Zhang would lose his endorsements, be forced to lay low for a while. I didn’t expect the all-out invisibility campaign the would happen, including the removal of his already-aired, groups projects such as Word of Honour (WoH 山河令).

Do I feel Zhang made a mistake? Absolutely. I agree with his self-assessment in his apology letter that he had been ignorant and careless. I’d add this as well: he had likely suffered from a certain degree of arrogance. When previously asked by his fans to remove from his Weibo a photo he took of a car painted in a manner reminiscent of WWII Japanese War Planes (and with a Rising Sun flag), that should’ve been a reminder, a warning enough for him to refrain from posting similar materials online. Being politically insensitive as a public figure in China is dangerous, and often costly. And one has to be really, really, insensitive politically, and very, very out of the news cycle, to be unaware of the tension in Sino-Japanese relations in the past decade, with the Yasukuni Shrine being at the epicentre of that tension.

A photo posted on Weibo by Zhang, later deleted at fans’ request and re-surfaced online during this incident (Left). The Nakajima Ki-84 fighter jet, used by the Imperial Japanese Army 1943-45 (Right). (Source)

But ignorance, carelessness and even arrogance are not crimes. These are corrigible traits; late 20’s may be not-so-young for an idol, but Zhang was young when he visited the shrine and took the photos in 2018. He’s still young now, having just reached 30, with lots of years to grow. 

From a practical standpoint, I also fail to see Zhang’s behaviour as causing more actual harm to anyone than as the Global Times Network (GTN) piece.

Zhang’s photos had never been widely circulated before the incident. The location at which they had been taken was also not obvious to those who haven’t investigated, or haven’t visited the Yasukuni Shrine. In contrast, the large quantity of photos in the GTN piece, their portrayal of the shrine’s right wing visitors, can arguably be said to be more visually offensive, if visual offensiveness is sufficient to be hurtful, if The Reporter of the GTN piece had, indeed, had his heart sunk just by the sight of the sakuras on the shrine grounds planted by the descendants and friends of those enshrined (reminder: overwhelmingly not war criminals), as he had described in the article. 

To put it in Chinese state media lingo, the GTN piece could arguably be said to have done more to 冒犯國人情感 (“offend the feelings of the country’s people”) (from People’s Daily critique piece against Zhang) and 輕佻地傷害中國人民的情感 (“flippantly hurt the feelings of the Chinese people) (from 中纪委 Central Commission for Discipline Inspection’s critique piece) than Zhang’s photos.

A thing to mention, perhaps: the phrase “hurting the feelings of Chinese people” (and its close cousins) has somewhat of a ... celebrity status among Chinese politics watchers, with ample articles and statistics dedicated to it for the sheer number of times it has appeared in China’s foreign policy materials, as well as the multi-purposeness of its application. Another example of “hurting the feelings of Chinese people”: an English Mercedes-Benz ad, posted on Instagram (a blocked site in China), featuring a quote by Dalai Lama. The phrase has become a bit of a joke in anti-CCP communities, not because the feelings of Chinese people aren’t legitimate or important, but because a regime that doesn’t allow voting, that suppresses the freedoms of speech and press, is hardly an expert on the feelings of its people.

An entertaining infographic about China’s “hurt national feelings” (high-res version). Japan has consistently ranked 1st in the number of times it has hurt China’s national feelings (upper right corner).  

And, speaking of “flippant”, I find flippant perfectly described the tone of the GTN piece, which I, as a reader of Chinese descent, was perhaps even more embarrassed by than the fact that The Reporter visited the shrine. The Reporter admitted he already had a “fight-picking heart”, had chosen to act confrontationally; the article he’d write later reflected that, was filled to the brim with bravado. However, as I mentioned before, he never did what would’ve mattered if he had elected to fight, made the cause of his troublemaking clear—he had said nothing about the war criminals, or the revisionist material in the museum. Statements of protests needn’t be physical or violent; they simply had to be communicated, and to the right audience—which doesn’t include his translator, or the staff at the Yasukuni Shrine. 

The American tourist could’ve been a potential target; wouldn’t it be interesting to find out what they knew about this piece of history, how much they knew about the controversies surrounding the shrine? But The Reporter only told them Americans were not welcomed—a statement automatically doubtful by the presence of … an American next to him. If The Reporter’s account were true, then, to the staff, the tourist who interacted with him, The Reporter behaved just like … a passive-aggressive, very rude Chinese tourist. He had scored zero victory for his cause—if he did have a cause—during his visit.

If the defence was his fight-picking heart, no one asked Zhang if he had harboured a fight-picking heart when he had visited, taken the pictures.

That’s double-standard. That’s hypocrisy.

Personally, I would’ve left out the Yasukuni Shrine from my Tokyo itinerary — as much because of the two thousand war criminals there, and the 2 million+ not-war-criminals there who deserve respect and peace. If I’m not a descendant of those enshrined there; if I’m not worshipping; if I lack deference for the shrine and the Shinto religion it represents, then, I have no business to be at the Yasukuni Shrine. 

There are beautiful sakuras all over Tokyo.

Sakuras along Tokyo’s Meguro River (Source)

Okay. Back to Zhang. I personally believe he made mistakes. Do I feel, then, that Zhang’s punishment was appropriate, or was it too much?

As someone whose family was mostly spared from the pain and suffering caused by the acts of the Imperial Japanese Army during the 1930s and 40s, I don’t think the answers to these questions are up to me to decide. It’s inappropriate for me to decide.

But I’ll follow my answer with this question: whoever are deciding now, are they the people who should be deciding, whose lives have been truly impacted by the war? Those screaming on social media that Zhang is a traitor, a 漢奸 hanjian—a term originated from the KMT and Sino-Japanese War era to refer to persons who have illicit relationships with the enemy of, specifically, the Han Chinese ethnicity—those wanting to destroy not just Zhang’s career, but Zhang himself … do they really believe visiting, taking photos at the Yasukuni Shrine are acts enough to warrant those accusations, bearing in mind that treason is, perhaps, the most unforgivable crime in China?

Is Chairman Mao, a Han Chinese, a hanjian when he thanked the Japanese prime minister? Why not? What he said could’ve been out of pragmatism, but did he hurt the feelings of the Chinese whose family had died from Japanese military brutality during the war, of the comfort women who, at the time of the meeting, were still living in significant numbers? Why, when a post quoting Mao’s words in defence of Zhang surfaced several days ago, the vast majority of online reactions was “here goes another brain-disabled fan”, until one netizen whispered it had actually been spoken by a Great Figure, without naming, without daring to name the actual speaker of the quote?

Why have those quotes been buried in the graves of the Chinese internet?

And the netizens who went on to “dig up”, spread unsubstantiated rumours about Zhang’s being 精日 (short for 精神上的日本人 “Spiritually Japanese”), being a secret right-wing Japanese, even—were they patriots or were they cyberbullys? Were they out to defend their country, or were they out there torturing someone they didn’t like for their own enjoyment? For their own potential gains?

They called Zhang a 行走的五十萬 “Walking 500,000” — the number referring to the sum of money (500,000 RMB, ~ 77,000 USD) the Chinese government rewards someone who reports, offers tip-offs on a foreign spy. If Zhang’s family happens to be Japanese too, they said, the reward could be 500,000 * n !!

An Anti-Spy Law (反間諜法) advertisement. 12339 is the phone number and website for reporting / making tip-offs on foreign spies. (Source)

One would say, of course, that these netizens were only joking.

But are jokes jokes if they can ruin someone for good? Same goes with every one who attempted to connect whoever, whatever they didn’t like with Zhang, @ ing the state agencies on the Weibo posts to call the latter’s attention to connections, wishing for the government and the platforms to remove these whoevers, whatevers along with Zhang. 

These whoevers, whatevers have included: Zhang’s former work associates; CP supertopics; Danmei and Dangai; Dangai dramas before WoH; actors involved in Dangai dramas before WoH; supertopics of these actors; the fans of these actors; fandom in general …

(To the Anon who asked: this is how the rumour that all CP supertopics may be removed came about. So far, there are no evidences that the invisibility campaign related to Zhang is heading in that direction.)

These “soft reporting” attempts—soft, in the sense that they were reporting to the state agencies, but not using the state’s formal system—conjures a scene like this in my mind: a class of small children, all with little to no power on their own, pointing their stubby fingers to whoever they don’t like in front of who they perceive as absolute authority. “But (S)HE did this!! “ screams a child who tries to borrow the teacher’s “knife” to take down their enemies, not understanding what it’ll mean to themselves if the teacher does yield to their demand, does punish their “enemies” based on their words alone: that the child can themselves will be punished when another child points their stubby fingers at them.

Perhaps, here’s the resemblance of the scene: when absolute authority exists, critical thinking tends to go wayside, even if the capability to critically think exists—because what’s the point of thinking? The opinion of the authority is the only thing that matters in the end. Mob mentality and actions take over: mobs of not only netizens, but mobs of companies, mobs of platforms.  

And so, when it rained for Zhang, it poured.

===

The Zhang Zhehan Incident Meta Series:

PART 1  PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 <- YOU ARE HERE PART 5

[ebaeschnbliah]

Mary’s hiatus .....

An interesting journey based on the randomness of a dice

At least that’s what Mary says. Taking a closer look on her journey, it doesn’t feel random at all though.

TBC below the cut ...

Mary leaves London with a passenger plane. When the plane lands, she leaves the unspecified airport in the disguise of a flight attendant. The next station on her random hiatus is the village Norddal in Norway.

There she can be seen leaving a fishing boat that carries the Norwegian flag.

As @callie-ariane pointed out in her scripts: 

“... the boat from which Mary disembarks is named “Flekkete Bånd” which deliciously translates to “Speckled Band.” Additionally I am assured that the name of the boat behind it, which I can’t read clearly, translates from Norwegian to “Lion’s Mane.”

Next, Mary visits a place near the shore with a costal watchtower, guarded by a massive stone wall.

Out of that wall she pulls a single already loose stone. In the opening behind, a passport is hidden ... made out in the name of Gabrielle Ashdown, citicen of the United States of America.

Gabrielle Ashdown is a name, taken from the movie The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes. The fake identity ‘Ashdown’ is used by Sherlock Holmes and Gabrielle Valladon for their investigations in Scotland. Under the disguise of the married couple ‘Mr and Mrs Ashdown’, they try to find Mrs Valldon’s missing husband. It turns out that ‘Gabrielle Valladon’ is already a fake identity as well and the woman in question is Ilse von Hoffmanstal, a german spy.

Laser light bars start running back and forth across the passport and serve as transition to the following scene. 

The laser light bars continue to run across motorbike and underlying map. From East to West, from Kaliningrad (Russia) to Gdansk (Poland) to Bornholm (Denmark)

Finally Mary makes herself ready to mount the motorbike. When she drives away the word ‘KIELBASKI’ appears on a sign at a building. It remains unclear if it is meant to be the name of a person, a company or if it relates to the village Kielbaski in Poland, about 70km from the Belarusian border. 

For comparison: I took a screenshot of the scene from HLV in which Mycroft looks at the map of Poland, tracking someone called ‘UGLY DUCKLING’ and I marked the location of the village Kielbaski.

The word KIELBASKI as well as the logo ‘Solidarność’, sprayed on the wall of the same building, indicates that Mary is meant to be in Poland in that scene. 

The underlaying map shows ‘RUSSIA’ written over Mary’s face. Does this mean that she is about to go there? It wouldn’t be very farfetched, I guess. Especially if one considers the text in Cyrillic letters on Magnussen’s file about Mary, as shown in HLV. (A partial translation can be found at the end of this post)

And yet, I think Mary doesn’t travel East to Belarus or Russia. Visual directions are important in movies. The screen is often treated like a map. If someone is meant to go west, they will move to the left border of the screen and vis versa. Mary drives first round a bend and then heads to the left ... to the West. And indeed, in the next scene - meanwhile Mary has replaced the motorbike by a car and she travels through a mountainous area - the underlaying map reveals that she is now quite far west of Poland ....

She is somewhere between Switzerland, Liechtenstein and Austria and her car moves now more to the right side of the screen, as does the underlying map ... Mary drives eastward.

Near the upper, right side of the map above ‘Salzburg’ can be seen. Mary drives on in her car and passes Wien and Budapest.

Then she crosses through Romania. The map of this country is more clearly and completely shown than all the others from Mary’s journey. Not long ago I wrote about Jonathan Harker’s journey from Count Dracula’s castle to the Black Sea (here). Because of that I’m still quite familiar with this particular area and I couldn’t help noticing that all the relevant places from Bram Stoker’s Dracula can also be found on this map about Mary’s journey. 

Cluj-Napoca (Klausenburg in Bram Stokers novel), Bistrița, the Borgo Pass near which Count Dracula’s castle is meant to be, Bacău, Galati where the Count leaves the Czarina Catherine, the ship that carries him home again ... Varna in Bulgaria, from where the Demeter sets sails to England. The shore of the Black Sea - everything can be found on this map.

But there is still more. There aren’t just all the familiar places that appear on this map in TST. Mary’s journey matches that of Harker even earlier. In the novel (published 1897) Harker goes by train across Europe all the way to Bistrița. Over a great distance the same tracks have been used for the famous Orient Express and the track section between Salzburg and Budapest (since 1897 ) covers also Mary’s travel route in TST.

This means that Mary travels the same route from Salzburg to Budapest by car, as does Jonathan Harker in Bram Stoker’s novel by train. And then she can be seen walking somewhere on a quay at the shore of the Black Sea, visually right between Galati and Varna, as displayed on the underlaying map.

Could be nothing, could be just coincidence. But then ... Dracula BBC has been created by the same people as Sherlock BBC ... so who knows? It’s at least very interesting. :))))

Next time a map shows up, Mary has obviously traveled further East, maybe to the Crimean peninsula, displayed on the right border of the map and from there to Teheran, the capital of Iran. A rider on a camel can be seen, who moves into the picture from the outer right side to the left. Is Mary heading westward again? It seems that she has changed the type of transport as well ...

Djebel Amour is the name of a mountain range in Algeria which belongs to the Atlas Mountain System in the Sahara ... far west of Iran. No camel or any other transport can be seen here. Mary walks slowly towards palm trees and some unspecified buildings.

PS: regarding Djebel Amour ...

Algeria is the second-largest Francophone country in the world in terms of speakers. Due to Algeria’s colonial history French is widely used in government, media, the education system and academia. It can be regarded as a lingua franca of Algeria (X).

The French word ‘amour’ translates into ‘love’. That’s interesting because the very first conversation Sherlock has, after his return from Morocco, revolves around dear brother Mycroft’s Latin skills:

SHERLOCK: Amo, amas, amat. MYCROFT: I love, you love, he loves. What ...? SHERLOCK: Not ‘ammo’ as in ‘ammunition’ but ‘amo,’ meaning ...?

Djebel Amour ... mountain of love ... that’s at least another lovely coincidence. Even more so because Sherlock himself has been compared to a mountain and a volcano (X). :)

Finally Mary reaches Marrakesh in the Kingdom of Morocco and walks into a souk. At the place where she’s heading to, Sherlock and John are already waiting for her. And Ajay is on the way there as well. The Orient is indeed full of wonders it seems .....

The last part of Mary’s journey ... the desert, the palm trees, the camel, the buildings and the way she’s dressed ... all of this conveys a strong oriental flair. Intuitive the Orient is assossiated with the East. Not surprising at all since the term ‘Orient’ derives from the Latin word oriens - which means ‘east’ - literally ‘rising’. It refers to the part of the sky where the sun is rising, to dawn and daybreak. Mary’s own mysterious words in the plane at the very beginning of her hiatus come to mind:

“... but did somebody hide the sun? Did you lose it in the war?”

Because of that intuitive feeling, one is tempted to assume that Mary is still in the Orient - in the East - when she comes to Morocco. Stricktly speaking, that’s a false assumption and the maps prove it without a doubt. Viewed from Great Britain - and here lies the centre point of this story, around which everything else revolves - Morocco is located in the West. It’s actually on the same longitude as Ireland. 

The filming of all the oriental scenes took place in Morocco. What might have been the reason to place the story also there? Instead, for example, in ...

Pakistan (Karachi/Irene Adler in ASIB, Islamabad/Mr Chatterjee in THOB)

Afghanistan (Kandahar and the province Helmand/John Watson in TSOT)

Iraq (Samarra, Sherlock’s rewritten story in TST)

All those places are already closely linked to Sherlock BBC. Why add an additional one?

In any case, East and West play an important role in Sherlock BBC. Sherlock’s and Mary’s hiatus mirror each other in many ways but there are also differences. Sherlock’s hiatus ends East of England, in Serbia - Mary’s hiatus ends West of England, in Morocco. As mentioned above, this country is on the same langitude as Ireland. And maybe it is also of importance that especially Ireland is linked with Jim Moriarty. It is well known that Moriarty is an Irish surname. That’s why Andrew Scott decided to keep his own Irish accent for this role. 

The souks of Marakkesh, Kasbah Nights, the crescent moon ... the Orient that ‘hides’ in the Occident. The East that hides in the West. A very clever deception. It reminds me of Mr Mohandes Hassan, a character from the same episode, who also combines East and West in his name. In Mr Hassan’s case ... India and Ireland ... Kamadeva’s arrow and a Gaelic stag (here).

Mary’s journey has been made on the roll of a dice, every movement was entirely random ... so it is said. She starts out on a plane, changes to a ship, a motorbike and then a car, with which she follows the route of famous train tracks. Next she rides on a camel and finally she goes on foot. Somehow this feels like a journey back to the roots ... to a beginning. A beginning that will turn out to be an end. Is her hiatus meant to be a journey backwards? From flying high above the clouds to footprints in the sand? 

This journey doesn’t feel random at all, nor ‘made on the roll of a dice’ ...

April, 2021

Thanks for reading that far and thanks @callie-ariane for the scripts. :)

The game is afoot   Backs

[seeyounexttime]

As you may know, Black Clover is having an online exhibition. If you look at it here (has to be on mobile though) you see 0/20 and 0% in the corner. I saw the screenshots that some people shared also have zeroes and wondered... After some clicking around and struggling with Japanese, I’ve gotten a full score :D

So for those who want to know what to do, or can’t see the exhibition yourself for whatever reason, I’ve made a walkthrough that’s what it’s called right?

First, you’re asked to please turn on the sound and enjoy. There’s an ON and OFF option

Devil Possessed Work Is On Display. DEVILS AND ~THE DON’T GIVE UP MAGICAL EXHIBIT~ Black Clover 6th Year Anniversary Celebration

The Spade Kingdom’s evil devil hosts have set their hands on Black Clover’s online exhibition, the “Don’t Give Up Magical Exhibit”, from the 5th year anniversary celebration!? Only the “devil-possessed works” were shining a suspicious light in the transformed exhibition hall.

[yellow/gold box] To the Devils and Don’t Give Up Magical Exhibit >>

Asta has newly awakened devil power!? -- Together with the devil Liebe, get power to confront the invasion of the Spade Kingdom, including the Dark Triad!

[white/silver box] To the Don’t Give Up Magical Exhibit >>

Complete Revival of the “Won’t Give Up Magical Exhibit”!? -- Because of the Spade Kingdom’s invasion, the “Don’t Give Up Magical Exhibit” has ended up in miserable condition, but Nero’s sealing magic has succeeded in completely returning it to the way it used to be! Let’s dive into the work and explore Asta and friend’s “won’t give up magic”

I recommend starting with the previous year’s exhibit, so flip your phone to the side and click the white box with Nero on the corner..~

A little tutorial: you can click in the picture frames, swipe, and pinch the screen. Nero says “I’ll tell you if you get lost. Don’t worry.”

“Not giving up magic” isn’t only Asta’s magic.

Everyone who supported Black Clover will surely have the power of “not giving up magic.” Now, with your magic power, let’s dive into the world of Black Clover’s story.

PROMISE -- 約束 (yakusoku) -- The source of the power of Asta’s “not giving up magic” was a “promise” with his rival, who pursues the dream that they can never give up on, called “to become the Wizard King.”

Nero says “Tap the framed picture.”

This causes a little manga movie to play - about Asta and Yuno of course. Their promise, words exchanged at the dungeon, that time they saved Hage, and times they fought side by side in the Elf Arc are shown. When it comes to an end, it displays this manga spread:

Nero says “Tap the demon’s bones...”

This plays a manga movie about Licht’s and Lumiere’s tragic battle...

Nero says “Tap the icon on the upper left to return to the original world.”

You’ll be taken back the Promise screen and should now have 1/20 at the bottom corner

PRIDE -- 誇り (hokori) -- Magic Knight Squads that protect the world with magical power. The Wizard King with the magic knight captains whom he brings together. It is that “pride” built up due to their overwhelming achievements that is the source of power.

Again, tap the framed pictures. A slideshow of their most prominent moments (before the timeskip) play. At the end is a panel of their most impressive spell at least that’s what I think they were trying to do here?

Nero says “You want to know more about your comrades right”

Tap the yellow button next to her (it says “see details+”). This pops up:

At the top is their type of magic. Then a short description about them. The rest is mostly stats that were already in their manga profile’s + a little extra. In order it’s: {their name ☘, age, height, birthday, sign, blood type, favorite thing, birthplace, and rank}

Yami’s birthplace is the Land of the Sun; Dorothy’s is the Witch’s Forest; Jack’s is in the Common Realm; everyone else was born in the Noble Realm

COMPLEX -- 劣等感 (rettoukan) -- A person who can deal with their “inferiority complex” is also a blessed person who has the chance to become stronger than anyone else.

*note: the kanji specifically refers to “inferiority complex”

A manga movie about her struggles with magic plays, then switches to this:

Nero says “Pinch out and move forward.”

As you “zoom in” panels of Noelle’s development with spells, from Sea Dragon’s Lair to Valkyrie Dress, rotate around, ending with:

“I... won....!!”

FRIENDSHIP -- 絆 (kizuna) -- For their precious friends, sometimes a person can even go as far as surpassing their limits. A magic blow vested with the “bonds” of friends has defeated any despair.

*note: the kanji means “bonds (between people)”

Nero says “If you look at all the framed pictures of bonds…”

When you click on each framed picture, you get panels like in the Complex section but these one’s don’t rotate

It focuses on an important fight for each Black Bull, I think one that emphasizes their bonds with someone and/or teamwork. Magna & Luck share framed pictures; Gauche, Gordon, Grey and Henry share another. Usually at the end you see the kanji for their magic attribute (Charmy’s ends with “food magic”)

Like with the captains, there’s also a panel of them looking impressive. Again, Nero says “You want to learn more about your friends right.”

At the top is their name, description about them, then Profile ☘ and stats in the same order as the captain’s in the Pride section. I want to note that Charmy’s birthplace is literally “?”

But Before You Finish Looking At All The Frames-!! swipe left and take a look 👀

Try to tap this~  Nero says “If you look at all the framed pictures, there will be something good.”

After you watch the 8th one, you’ll find that the middle frame has lit up

“Tap the framed picture” Nero says. A manga movie about the Black Bulls plays, showing their good and awesome times, then ending in the group shot of when they busted in during Asta’s and Nero’s trial --but wait!! there’s more!!!

We’re moving left-?! Omg SECRE-!??

“Well done, you undid the seal.”

“I will undo the seal with my magic.”

Sealing Magic

Inverse Release

LOVE -- 愛 (ai) -- The magic of Black Clover has been sustained by the “love” of everyone who continuously supported all the characters, including Asta and Yuno, and this story. Thank you very much for so much “love.”

That’s right: you just unlocked Love :’)

Tapping it opens up a high-quality image that you can download for yourself.

Nero says “It’s a commemorative wallpaper. It’s yours.”

☘ Instant Posting Magic ☘ Let’s share with everyone that we came to play Black Clover’s 5th anniversary project “Never Giving Up Magic” 📖 Use Instant Posting Magic

Tapping that opens up twitter. Nero says “Post in celebration.”

--but wait! there’s even more!! swipe one more time 👀

Zenon, what are you doing here? staring at a framed picture of the Heart Kingdom... Tap it, Nero says

oh shit

a preview of volume 25 plays

Click Here For Part 2~! ☠ 

※✧※

*Disclaimer: The exhibit used 諦めない魔法 (akiramenai mahou). Akiramenai is the negative form of the verb akirameru "to give up" and mahou is "magic." It's definitely a reference to Asta's "my magic is never giving up" line, and I guess it could be translated as "magic that doesn't give up" but doesn't that make it sound like he has magic? This becomes more of an issue when they begin to apply it to others beside Asta... So yeah, sorry that sounds awkward. Also depending on context and because I got tired of repeating the same phrase I changed the form from "don't give up" to "not giving up" and others.

I was using google translate quite a bit, after I looked up kanji by parts because I couldn't copy-paste the pictures (it was decent practice; I think I can totally identify the word "not giving up" now). This isn't an official release, but I did try to clean things up to at least sound coherent and give you a better idea of what's going on.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Returning from Afar Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 远归之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

[ This date was released in CN on 28 Sep 2020 ]

This is the 29th day of Gavin’s mission, and also the day he said he’d return. 

As agreed, I’m in Gavin’s house to water Little Spiky. Since I’m already here, I also tidy up the place, which hasn’t been habited for a month.

MC: Mm, its rootstocks are healthy, the colour is lush and green, and it’s growing well. Now to put it under the sun.

I carry it to the window carefully, letting it soak in sunlight.

My line of sight lingers on the wind chimes hanging near the window. I reach out to pull at the crystal piece. 

The bright and limpid crystal suddenly sends my consciousness back to the week before Gavin departed for the mission. 

[ flashback ]

The afternoon wind blows the curtains upwards, brushing across the crystal shoes glittering on the floor.

If one were to ignore the slight scratch at the back, this would have been a perfect souvenir.

I squat on the floor, one hand holding the “main culprit” - the broom, and another hand gripping my phone, giving the manufacturer a call while feeling upset. 

MC: Hello? I’m the person in charge of [MC’s Company Name]. We held an activity and ordered crystal shoes from your company. Do you still remember that? 

Person in charge: Miss MC, right? I remember, I remember. Do you want to collaborate with us for another event? 

MC: Ah, actually, one of the crystal shoes has a scratch on its back. I wanted to ask if it’s possible to fix it? 

Person in charge: Hmm... Because of the way it was designed, that batch of crystal shoes were specially handled, so traditional restoration works won’t be effective. But since you’re a regular client of our company, we can send you a pair based on the address you gave us. 

MC: ...no need for the trouble. Since it can't be restored, it’s fine. Thank you.

I hang up, a little disappointed. 

In the midst of cleaning up, I had accidentally scratched the crystal shoes Gavin gave me the other time. 

[Note] MC is referring to Gavin’s 2 Become 1 Date, which is available in EN.

Although the damage is slight, it’s not something I can just ignore.

While sighing, I store the crystal shoes back into the box, and place it in the cabinet. 

At this moment, a low knocking sound resounds from the door.

When I open it, I see that the person standing at the door is Gavin.

Light and shadows are cast on his profile, illuminating his sharp and soft eyes.

Gavin: What are you busy with? 

He walks in while speaking. Without him noticing, I prod the the box containing the crystal shoes further into the shoe cabinet. 

MC: I was doing a cleanup, but it’s almost done. 

Gavin responds with a “Mm”. He seems to hesitate, then walks over and takes my hand in his, his thumb rubbing it gently.

Gavin: I have a mission in a few days. It’s of a high level, so you might not be able to contact me for a while.

I freeze for a moment, subconsciously recalling how Eli had previously detailed the dangers of Gavin’s missions.

MC: ...is the level of danger very high as well?

Gavin: Mm, it’s a little dangerous. Which is why I have to go. 

He pauses, then continues. 

Gavin: You don’t need to worry. Before the 30th of next month, I’ll definitely be back.

He speaks confidently. Suppressing the worry in my heart, I give him a smile.  

MC: All right. I’ll take care of Little Spiky. And will wait for you to come back.

[ end of flashback ]

The wind chime clangs, its melody light-hearted and lively. However, I can’t help but sigh. 

For some reason, the second day after Gavin left, I discovered that the crystal shoes in the cabinet had disappeared.

I searched the house, but couldn’t find a trace of them. In the end, my guess was that a thief had stolen them.

Even after pondering over it a hundred times, I remain puzzled about the thief’s motives, and couldn’t fathom how a thief could have broken in. To be safe, I ended up changing the lock. 

MC: When Gavin returns, should I tell him about this...

All of a sudden, the wind outside grows stronger, causing a magazine on the table to flip open with a rustle. 

MC: What’s this? 

I walk over, holding up the magazine. I flip through it randomly, and wind up on a page which has been folded. 

It features a custom-made jewellery shop.

The vibrant front cover is incompatible with the cold colours of Gavin’s house. On the page, the eye-catching font forms the shop’s name - “Cang Xing”.

[Note] 苍星 (“cang xing”) directly translates to “dark green star”.

MC: Isn’t this the private studio which opened recently?

In a program not too long ago, I got to know about this shop. Although its prices are hefty, and the workmanship takes quite a long time, it has a very good reputation. 

I find myself getting confused.

MC: Is Gavin interested in this shop too...

The phone suddenly rings.

Designer: Hello. Is this Miss MC? I’m a designer from Cang Xing. Previously, a customer ordered a gift for you. May I know if you have time to drop by and have a look today?

MC: A gift? 

My eyes flit to the magazine in my hands, a vague guess surfacing in my heart. 

MC: All right, I’ll head over now. 

-

Pushing open the doors to the studio, it’s as though I’ve stepped into another world. 

Soft white muslin can be seen everywhere. Jewellery of various colours can be seen on the ivory tables, brilliant like stars in the dark night. 

The table near the entrance has visitors’ book. The designer doesn’t seem to be around, so I instinctively pick up a pen and flip it open, planning to write my name down.

After signing my name and preparing to shut the book, I suddenly see familiar handwriting. 

On the upper section of this page, amongst a mix of illegible and serious font, there’s a handsome and light-hearted one. 

It’s Gavin’s.

The date that he filled in was the third day before he left for the mission.

??: May I know if you’re Miss MC? 

A staff dressed in working attire walks towards me.  

MC: Mm, I’m MC. 

??: Nice to meet you, I’m the designer who talked to you over the phone earlier. Please follow me. 

I follow the designer’s directions and walk towards a reception area at the side. 

Several pink jasmines are scattered on the table of the reception area. At the side, there’s a long white silk ribbon, looking as though it’s been tied halfway.

MC: Is there an event happening in the store today? 

Designer: No, there isn’t. These were leftover flowers from an earlier event. I just thought to use them to decorate the shop. I didn’t expect you to reach so quickly, so I was only halfway done with the decorations. 

The designer explains in embarrassment. 

MC: I see. Oh yes, you mentioned a custom-made gift in the call...

The designer casts a glance towards the door, her expression turning apologetic.

Designer: Well... I have to wait for the customer who ordered it to arrive before I can tell you. I’m really sorry about that. 

I nod my head pensively. Looking at the unfinished decorations, I break the silence. 

MC: Since I have to wait, why don’t I help you with the decorations? 

Designer: How could I ask that of you!

MC: It’s fine. Is this meant to be hung on the wall? 

While speaking, I pick up the jasmine flowers on the floor, and hand it to the designer. 

After that, we stand on the stools, hanging the jasmine flowers on the wall. The white muslin sways gently next to us.

At this moment, the door is suddenly pulled open. What follows is the sound of specially made boots. The footsteps are slightly hurried, and they pause not too far off. 

Gavin: Sorry, I arrived slightly later than scheduled. 

I lift my head abruptly, turning around and wanting to hop off the stool. But my coat gets stuck on a hook, which has jasmine flowers hanging on it. 

MC: !

Along with the sound of fabric ripping, a pulling force tugs me backwards, and there’s empty space beneath my feet.

MC: Gavin--

In a moment of desperation, the word slips my mouth.

A gust of wind blows up the white muslin. Accompanied by a calm laugh, a strong pair of arms wrap around my waist. 

Gavin: [laughs] Don't worry, I won’t let you fall. 

Gavin catches me steadily. In the narrow and small world created by the soft, drifting muslin, he carries me and spins in half a circle. 

My torn coat is on the floor. Slightly embarrassed, I clasp a hand over the strap which has fallen off my shoulder.

Gavin sets me down. His gaze falls on my body lightly. Then, he hurriedly averts his line of sight. 

Gavin: [coughs] ...

The temperature in the room suddenly rises. Face flushed, I frantically search for the coat.

MC: ...where’s the coat?

Gavin: Over here.

He picks up the coat and hands it to me, his eyes averted to the side, his ears tinged a slight red. I take the coat, but discover that it’s basically unwearable since the snag is too serious.

In the next second, a warm piece of clothing is draped over me. The texture feels slightly hard, and I can even still feel the cold insignia.

MC: ?

I lift my head to see that Gavin has taken off his uniform, revealing his white shirt underneath.

Gavin: Put mine on first.

He pulls the uniform more snugly around my body. His warm fingertips accidentally brush my collarbone, causing me to shiver.

Face flushed, I lower my head. But I catch sight of a ripped button on Gavin’s shirt. 

MC: What happened? Are you hurt? Are there any other places? Let me see...

Anxious, I’m just about to pry apart his shirt to check if there are any injuries on his body. 

Gavin: ...

Gavin: I’m fine. 

Gavin grips my hand to stop me, his cheeks slightly red. 

The designer had left without us realising it, leaving the private space to us. 

The surroundings are delicate and tranquil. Only the person before me carries with him a windy and frosty aura, his eyes lowered as he watches me quietly. 

[Note] Interestingly, the word used to describe Gavin’s aura, 风霜 (“feng shuang”) also has a figurative meaning to describe someone who has experienced hardships in life :’)

MC: Let me have a look then. Only after I’ve verified it with my own eyes, I’ll believe that you’re not lying to me. 

I act in a fit of pique, angry and not understanding why he would still hide his injuries from me.

Gavin looks resigned. After a moment, his long and slender fingers touch his lapel, slowly removing one button.

His defined muscles come into view, revealing a lean figure. 

My hand gently brushes a wound on his shoulder blade which has already formed a scab, and my nose suddenly feels sour. 

Gavin: It’s just a small wound, and it has already healed.

His gaze follows my hands and rests on the wound, then he pauses. 

After being silent for a while, I lower my head, mildly aggrieved, and speak. 

MC: Did you rush over from afar? Actually, you could have taken your time to come back. You didn’t have to... be afraid that I’d worry, and be so anxious. 

I hold onto Gavin’s hand. He hasn’t removed his gloves, and the touch feels as cold as ice, bringing with it a chill.

Gavin: It wasn’t far. 

He tries removing his gloves before holding me again. But I don’t release him, and I tighten my grip.

Gavin pauses. Then, his fingers curl slightly, encasing my hand in his. 

Gavin: The mission was completed earlier, so I came back. 

A smile dyes Gavin’s eyes. Then, he pinches my palm.

Gavin: Let’s not talk about these things first. The gift I prepared for you - want to know what it is?

Looking at the mildly expectant expression on his face, I can’t help but store away my sour emotions, and snort with laughter.  

MC: I do want to know. So could Officer Gavin tell me what it is?

Gavin: You’ll know soon. 

-

MC: I didn’t think there would be a small showroom at the back of the private studio...

After pushing open the door inside the studio, what enters my vision is a glass showroom. 

The outer side of the showroom is constructed using glass, allowing sunlight to stream in, illuminating bouquets of pink jasmine flowers that have been strung up.

Gavin: This is a small glass showroom originally used by the owner to allow customers to hold mock weddings. 

Gavin guides me to the centre of the showroom, brushing past the flower bouquets.

Gavin: But today, I’ve temporarily borrowed it. 

A gust of wind causes the fine gauze draped over the showcase in the middle to fall, revealing a pair of crystal shoes surrounded by flowers. 

The shoe now has a small gem embedded in the place which was scratched - brilliant, bright and sparkling. 

MC: ...this is? What is it doing here?!

Gavin: When I went to your house the other day, I saw that you placed them on the shoe cabinet. 

I’m a little dumbfounded. 

MC: I thought I hid it in the box...

Gavin can’t help but laugh. 

Gavin: Mm, you did hide it in the box. But your reaction was too obvious. In the span of a meal, you glanced at that area around ten times. So before I left, I took a look. 

This causes me to feel perplexed. 

MC: So you were the one who secretly took the shoes away. I thought I lost them, and was depressed for so long. I also thought a thief stole them, and even changed the lock.

I mumble softly, but my eyes sneakily linger on that pair of fully restored crystal shoes. 

The unease from the scratched souvenir vanishes bit by bit, turning into a sweetened state of mind. 

Gavin: I searched for many places, but only this shop’s owner said he could use precious stones to try restoring the damaged area. 

Gavin: The date of the completed restoration could have been earlier, but I wanted to give them to you personally. 

Gavin: Which is why I asked the shop to give you call today. 

Gavin: [coughs] Even though it looks different from how it was before...

I interrupt him softly. 

MC: But I like it very much. 

Gavin stops, looking at me seriously with lowered eyes. 

Gavin: I did this because I didn’t want you to be unhappy over the damaged crystal shoes. 

Gavin: As long as you like it, that’s all that matters. 

His words land on my heart, rippling across it. 

Slightly flushed, my peripheral vision rests on the gem, which is reflecting specks of light. 

MC: Oh yes, what’s with this gem? 

Gavin: While I was on a mission, I passed by a shop and saw this gem through the window.

Gavin releases an unnatural cough.

Gavin: At that time, I was about to return to help you with the amusement park wedding photoshoot. I thought it would be of use, so I bought it. 

Gavin: But after that, I didn’t have a chance to give it to you.

He seems to think about something, and laughs lightly. 

Gavin: I kept thinking about when would be an appropriate time to give it to you. 

Gavin: It just so happened that the shape of the gem needed by the owner tallied with this. 

Gavin: So it was used. 

He fixes his eyes on me, affectionate and gentle. 

Sunlight parts the layers of clouds, casting a warm shade. It’s as though I can clearly hear the sound of my own heart beating. 

The sound gradually grows louder, becoming more urgent, wanting to burrow its way out of my chest and tell the person in front of me how I feel right now. 

MC: Although what I’m about to say may come across as being overly polite to you, I still have to say it. 

MC: Gavin, thank you.

Thank you for silently watching over my mood. Thank you for always returning to my side no matter where you go.

The white muslin drifts to and fro. My heart stirs, and I gently touch the muslin in front of me. Sunlight streams in.

My fingertips brush the soft white muslin, tracing the word “Gavin” on it. 

I turn my head to the side, blinking at Gavin a little playfully.

MC: This word - apart from it being your name, it also has another meaning.

 MC: It’s “courage”.

Gavin’s eyes pause on my face, as though he’s slightly shocked. But it quickly morphs into a smile which harbours starlight.

His smile leaves me in a daze. I turn back, pretending to be unaffected as I begin speaking softly. 

MC: Gavin, you are my courage. 

MC: You are the courage I have when I face life’s large and small twists and turns. 

MC: Next time, I’ll become a person who is stronger in heart, and won’t be dejected over such a trivial matter. 

MC: I’ll also work hard to become your courage and strength - to protect you from harm each time you go on missions. 

MC: Or... to sustain fewer injuries. 

I wave a fist towards Gavin as a display of my determination. The sunlight sifting in through the muslin is like a gentle filter, descending on Gavin slowly.

Having to part from each other and having gloomy moods are inevitable. But there’s one person who will ultimately make his way over to me, smoothening out all the anguish, leaving only happiness behind.

He will cross the mountains and rivers, walk across the clouds and the moon, to meet me at the brink of dawn. 

Gavin: [laughs] I got it. 

He turns his head, mimicking my earlier actions, lifting his hand to trace something on the white muslin.

MC: This is...

I try to decipher what he wrote, but can’t tell what it is. Confused, I look at Gavin. 

He puts his hand down, lifting his eyes to stare at me quietly. 

Gavin: Protecting each other. 

His voice is loud and clear, reminiscent of a galloping breeze in autumn, crashing into my heart. 

Gavin: You are already my strength. 

Gavin: So I will keep protecting you, and everything you like. 

The numerous times of parting, the numerous mornings and evenings spent alone, now leave a sweet aftertaste.

MC: Gavin, I’m really happy now. 

MC: So happy that I feel as though the entire world is before me at this moment, and within reach. 

Seeing my smile, Gavin lifts the white muslin between us, reaching out to bring me into his arms.

The coat draped over my shoulders slides off. The white muslin is akin to a gentle mist, gracefully drifting mid-air, then falling onto the both of us. 

Gavin holds my hand, encircling me in his arms. 

MC: Gavin...

The close and warm contact causes my face to heat up. I can’t help but call his name. 

But he isn’t in a hurry to respond. Instead, he lifts a hand, taking a strand of my hair into his palm, his gaze lingering on my face. 

Gavin: Now, I’m the only person in your entire world. 

The delicate fragrance of pink jasmine slowly permeates the air. The temperature from our laced fingers is scalding. I tilt my head upwards, giving Gavin’s chin a careful peck.

MC: In that case, could I bribe my entire world to let me have this moment for a while longer?

In the next second, I feel warmth around my waist, and Gavin wraps me in his arms tightly. 

He lowers his head slightly, his fringe brushing my eyelashes. I can feel his steady, composed breaths. 

Gavin: No matter how long it is, you can.

-

Phone call: here

-

🍒 Cheri’s elegant thoughts 🍒

HE PURCHASED A RING OKAY

NO ONE JUST BUYS A RANDOM GEMSTONE

HE HAD A RING ALL THIS TIME

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH