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lurkingteapot · 11 months

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Every now and then I think about how subtitles (or dubs), and thus translation choices, shape our perception of the media we consume. It's so interesting. I'd wager anyone who speaks two (or more) languages knows the feeling of "yeah, that's what it literally translates to, but that's not what it means" or has answered a question like "how do you say _____ in (language)?" with "you don't, it's just … not a thing, we don't say that."

I've had my fair share of "[SHIP] are [married/soulmates/fated/FANCY TERM], it's text!" "[CHARACTER A] calls [CHARACTER B] [ENDEARMENT/NICKNAME], it's text!" and every time. Every time I'm just like. Do they though. Is it though. And a lot of the time, this means seeking out alternative translations, or translation meta from fluent or native speakers, or sometimes from language learners of the language the piece of media is originally in.

Why does it matter? Maybe it doesn't. To lots of people, it doesn't. People have different interests and priorities in fiction and the way they interact with it. It's great. It matters to me because back in the early 2000s, I had dial-up internet. Video or audio media that wasn't available through my local library very much wasn't available, but fanfiction was. So I started to read English language Gundam Wing fanfic before I ever had a chance to watch the show. When I did get around to watching Gundam Wing, it was the original Japanese dub. Some of the characters were almost unrecognisable to me, and first I doubted my Japanese language ability, then, after checking some bits with friends, I wondered why even my favourite writers, writers I knew to be consistent in other things, had made these characters seem so different … until I had the chance to watch the US-English dub a few years later. Going by that adaptation, the characterisation from all those stories suddenly made a lot more sense. And the thing is, that interpretation is also valid! They just took it a direction that was a larger leap for me to make.

Loose adaptations and very free translations have become less frequent since, or maybe my taste just hasn't led me their way, but the issue at the core is still a thing: Supernatural fandom got different nuances of endings for their show depending on the language they watched it in. CQL and MDZS fandom and the never-ending discussions about 知己 vs soulmate vs Other Options. A subset of VLD fans looking at a specific clip in all the different languages to see what was being said/implied in which dub, and how different translators interpreted the same English original line. The list is pretty much endless.

And that's … idk if it's fine, but it's what happens! A lot of the time, concepts -- expressed in language -- don't translate 1:1. The larger the cultural gap, the larger the gaps between the way concepts are expressed or understood also tend to be. Other times, there is a literal translation that works but isn't very idiomatic because there's a register mismatch or worse. And that's even before cultural assumptions come in. It's normal to have those. It's also important to remember that things like "thanks I hate it" as a sentiment of praise/affection, while the words translate literally quite easily, emphatically isn't easy to translate in the sense anglophone internet users the phrase.

Every translation is, at some level, a transformative work. Sometimes expressions or concepts or even single words simply don't have an exact equivalent in the target language and need to be interpreted at the translator's discretion, especially when going from a high-context/listener-responsible source language to a low-context/speaker-responsible target language (where high-context/listener responsible roughly means a large amount of contextual information can be omitted by the speaker because it's the listener's responsibility to infer it and ask for clarification if needed, and low-context/speaker-responsible roughly means a lot of information needs to be codified in speech, i.e. the speaker is responsible for providing sufficiently explicit context and will be blamed if it's lacking).

Is this a mouse or a rat? Guess based on context clues! High-context languages can and frequently do omit entire parts of speech that lower-context/speaker-responsible languages like English regard as essential, such as the grammatical subject of a sentence: the equivalent of "Go?" - "Go." does largely the same amount of heavy lifting as "is he/she/it/are you/they/we going?" - "yes, I am/he/she/it is/we/you/they are" in several listener-responsible languages, but tends to seem clumsy or incomplete in more speaker-responsible ones. This does NOT mean the listener-responsible language is clumsy. It's arguably more efficient! And reversely, saying "Are you going?" - "I am (going)" might seem unnecessarily convoluted and clumsy in a listener-responsible language. All depending on context.

This gets tricky both when the ambiguity of the missing subject of the sentence is clearly important (is speaker A asking "are you going" or "is she going"? wait until next chapter and find out!) AND when it's important that the translator assign an explicit subject in order for the sentence to make sense in the target language. For our example, depending on context, something like "are we all going?" - "yes" or "they going, too?" might work. Context!

As a consequence of this, sometimes, translation adds things – we gain things in translation, so to speak. Sometimes, it's because the target language needs the extra information (like the subject in the examples above), sometimes it's because the target language actually differentiates between mouse and rat even though the source language doesn't. However, because in most cases translators don't have access to the original authors, or even the original authors' agencies to ask for clarification (and in most cases wouldn't get paid for the time to put in this extra work even if they did), this kind of addition is almost always an interpretation. Sometimes made with a lot of certainty, sometimes it's more of a "fuck it, I've got to put something and hope it doesn't get proven wrong next episode/chapter/ten seasons down" (especially fun when you're working on a series that's in progress).

For the vast majority of cases, several translations are valid. Some may be more far-fetched than others, and there'll always be subjectivity to whether something was translated effectively, what "effectively" even means …

ANYWAY. I think my point is … how interesting, how cool is it that engaging with media in multiple languages will always yield multiple, often equally valid but just sliiiiightly different versions of that piece of media? And that I'd love more conversations about how, the second we (as folks who don't speak the material's original language) start picking the subtitle or dub wording apart for meta, we're basically working from a secondary source, and if we're doing due diligence, to which extent do we need to check there's nothing substantial being (literally) lost -- or added! -- in translation?

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unadulteratedsoulsweets · 1 year

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A DC X DP IDEA #7 The Summons

Imagine dis…

It is always Danny being summoned by cultists, John Constantine, enemies…etc to the mortal plane that starts a beautiful meeting and adventure between the two fandoms. But what if Danny pulled an uno reverse this time, and shenanigans and misunderstandings ensue?

Danny is getting tired of all types of summoning around the Infinite realms, being King and immortal quickly gets boring after a few couple centuries. As well as the fact he is getting annoyed at the summoning that he kept getting himself into. The monologue is getting less creative and less creative by the day, he was sure that all villain monologues are either copyrighted or even ripped off from the same book and source, as they are either A. offering their world for his liking B. making him do something, or even C. kill a certain someone, and you wouldn’t believe the number of times he was summoned for the sole purpose of killing either Batman or Superman from the dubbed both liked and least liked dimension for Danny. Liked as they have real live aliens in that dimension as well so far begun the exciting one in this dimension, Least because the majority of the uncomfortable summoning's are from that dimension and the majority of the so-called heroes are either messing up the timeline which comes to the headache of both Danny and Clockwork as well kept jumping through the dimensions of their universe.

Today he sat on his throne with all of his eldritch glory when he felt that feeling of being summoned, now when being summoned is like a very annoying ring that you have on this phone on volume that kept on ringing until you answer it. Sighing at his current life, the number of times he summoned in that dimension to the point he can already feel and identify the same ringtone for that dimension. In a spur of a moment as well an ungodly amount of pettiness at that moment for all the times he has summoned as well the headache he and his mentor received he pulled an uno reverse on the heroes and prepared himself to get back at them.

…

Superman, Constantine, Batman, Red Hood, Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin interfered with yet another cult dedicated to freeing the tyrant Pariah Dark. From what little information they have gathered through the relics and scrolls, Constantine stated that this Pariah Dark will make most of their world-ending fights look like a kid’s squabble due to the vast powers of the Pariah Dark stating that if he wishes though he can destroy this universe in a flick of his hand.

This cult, however, is on a large scale seeing that they were led in a wild goose chase while the other members prepare the runes, sigils, and sacrifices for the necessary ritual.

They managed to stop the cultists from killing their supposed sacrifices when the runes suddenly glowed green, blinding them completely.

The moment they gained consciousness they immediately knew that there is something wrong.

Looking around they noticed that they have been teleported to some sort of forest but looking up to determine the time of the day made them pause.

The sky is painted with endless toxic Lazarus green, and all of the heroes are now on high alert as they assess the situation. They either dimensioned hopped again or they have been dragged by the cultists and transported to wherever this Tyrant ruler is.

Constantine kept reassuring himself that it would be the former but the amount of death magic that flows through the air like oxygen made him think the worse.

Superman tried to fly upwards to have a better view around them but found out that he couldn’t use any of his powers.

As they were navigating this new and dangerous territory Batman kept grilling Constantine for information as every bit of information is now precious as they need to find their way home. Despite Batman drilling for any information that he knew, he knew nothing more other than the following facts.

Pariah Dark is a tyrant that ruled the Infinite realms. Using both fear and his unlimited power to control and dictate the Infinite Realms.

The Infinite Realms have also known as the Ghost zone, in all of the limitless universes and other histories. The Ghost Zone occurs at every feasible and non-feasible moment in time, which means that no matter where or when you are in the Ghost Zone, you are everywhere and every when because it all exists at the same time.

Without the Infinite Realms then there would be the end of their world and reality as they know it.

The residents here are told to be the most powerful ghosts in existence as Deadman could not even measure up to their strengths.

Suddenly the group heard a loud commotion and quickly hid by climbing up the trees for a better view.

There they see a group of large flaming black armored people that covered their entire body and face except for their glowing green eyes. Two of them caught their attention, the larger one has a purple flame surrounding his helmet, carrying a flaming sword as he rides a menacing black horse that has bat-like wings while the other one has a blue flame on top of his head pointing an electrified sword towards the cultists that were teleported differently from them.

From where they at, they were able to hear about the black armored knights that mortals are trespassing around the Infinite Realms. All of the cultists are now screaming and trying to fight off the knights that tried to restrain them, in the end, they were dragged and caged in a metal cage that is connected to a chariot of the skeleton of horses.

They were brought out of their stupor when they heard the continued screaming and begging’s of the cultist in a distant direction and when they heard a child’s giggle below them.

Looking down below them they saw a small child. The child could not be more than 6 with gravity-defying white hair, Lazarus green eyes wearing a simple white cuffed sleeve with brown pants and black shoes.

He pointed at them for being a mortal and looked at them with awe and proceeded to exaggerate the fact that mortals are in the Infinite Realms.

Nightwing being the friendliest face alongside Superman asked who and where they were. The child proceeded to introduce himself as Danny and tell them that they are in the Infinite Realms and that they are trespassing in the land of the dead, being without the High King’s order.

Danny kept gushing at the fact they are living heroes, as well as proceeded to act like a naïve child that will spill information with a few sweet words.

The kid kept asking Nightwing what it’s like to be alive and to eat food that doesn’t attack you.

Of course, that made the heroes grimace seeing that they were reminded that they were in fact in the land of the dead.

Danny next floated towards Superman and excitedly asked about his culture and language as a Kryptonian alien race.

As the ghost child kept asking Superman some questions nobody saw Constantine pale at the moment, they saw the child. As a dark magical user, he can sense the amount of death magic towards a thing or someone. The moment the child appeared in front of them the man Constantine tried to calm his nerves down seeing the abundant concentrated death magic that clings to the child like some parasite.

Batman tried to ask more relevant questions but Danny flew towards Red Hood and Robin exclaiming that they need a doctor, putting on a frown on his face. Batman’s questions kept growing when they heard a siren that seems to echo throughout the realms and the only thing the kid, Danny, said Oh no.

Looking in the direction where Danny looked, they saw a large army of flaming flying horses with black armored knights each of which look like a black sword as the largest one that they have seen before leads them towards their direction the moment they locked eyes on them.

Without thinking of the consequence Red Hood picked up the dead child and proceeded to retreat alongside the rest of the Bat clan, Superman and Constantine.

…

Danny was enjoying this, the soul-whore man was just a bonus. The fact that he owns this poor man’s soul just out of pettiness for tripling the amount of his paperwork for selling his soul to different deities. Once he dies, he is going to embarrass this man to the point he wished he was in hell.

His plan was simple, make them scared at the act of the High King being mad at them. Make them see the horrors of the Infinite Realms and send them home, simple right?

He was about to give them one last scare when he heard an alarm that blared throughout the realms. He just knew that Fright Knight had just pulled the alarm. For the spirit of Halloween, he is serious and zealous about his job. The fact he had forgotten to write a note might be on him.

He was just about to turn around when Red Hood picked him up and carried him like a sack of potatoes. Now in any political sense Red Hood is committing treason, he kept trying to wiggle out of the man’s arms, unable to phase out due to the man’s nature as one of his subjects.

He may be petty but he didn’t mean on making them commit treason, he can do that on his own to piss off the Observants, thank you very much.

Now Danny is panicking about how this prank had railed off course due to his luck.

…

The team of super mortals is now running away from the army approaching them. Using the forest where they have landed to conceal themselves as they think of a way to escape the army of the dead.

Suddenly a green swirling portal opened in front of them, they were about to change direction but Constantine exclaimed loudly that, that portal is the same one that brought them here. So, by that logic that portal will lead them back to their universe.

When they returned to the dark warehouse before they were transported only then they noticed the extra baggage that Red Hood may have brought with him. In fear, Constantine asked why would he bring a ghost child who has extremely protective ghost parents that will hunt them down the moment they realize that he is gone.

Jason argued that ever since Danny appeared the pits quieted down to the moment the ghost child appeared as if he was never been dunked on the Lazarus pits.

As they were arguing Red Robin noticed Danny that he looked worried and kept looking around as if to look for another portal.

…

Newsflash, he was looking for a way to escape the heroes undetected to create his portal.

…

Red Robin was about to ask what was bothering him when all of the heroes present suddenly saw a green outline of a crown and a cape coming from Danny.

Danny asked nervously why were they looking at him funny.

Constantine dropped his cigarette and paled several shades whiter in fear, to the point he was paper.

Batman is now on the verge of a breakdown as well. In a span of a few minutes, they traveled to the land of the dead and saw some ghostly knights and children, and Jason adopting strays in his way. Apparently in the argument the two have and the action, Jason had done in a matter of minutes, his son Jason decided to adopt a ghost child which in return Constantine replied that it is not possible seeing that ghost children in general have protective parents that may hunt us down now that ghost child has a highlight and outline of a crown and cape.

Seeing his look and reaction of Constantine when looked at Danny due to the green highlight outline, Batman demands Constantine's answers as to why and what could be worse news other than Danny’s ghostly parents hunting them down for unintentionally kidnapping their child.

Constantine replied in a small and shaky voice that they didn’t just kidnap an ordinary ghost child, they kidnapped the Crowned Prince of the Infinite Realms.

…

Danny was sure that the cat is out of the bag, but when the sad trench coat man whispered Crowned Prince instead of High King. He can turn this whole situation turn around in his favor, now if only the spandex-wearing men stop harassing him on his so-called “Father-King.”

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so don’t forget to tag me though.

#dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #dc #dp #ghost king danny #Danny Phantom #danny fenton #batman #red hood #john constantine

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ijusthavesomanyblorbos · 1 year

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the transformers iceberg

(explanations + commentary below the cut)

This iceberg is less an objective measure of the community and more just my personal descent into the fandom over the last year or so. Every iceberg I could find online is like bayverse exclusively, and I wanted to make one specific to my experience!! So, this one is mostly idw comics, with some fandom jokes/theories, and little tidbits of the movies/TV shows mixed in. I know a lot of the stuff in the top and middle probably seem super elementary to you guys, but I was really making this with the lense of someone who has absolutely no experience with the lore AT ALL (how I started out) So the top layer is like, basic normal person things to know. Then layer two (still above the water) is slightly niche knowledge that you probably wouldn’t have without SOME kind of immersion in the media. Then you have the first layer below the water, which is still basic esc canon. Then you have the niche cannon. Then you have the WEIRD canon. (I’m looking at you Moon fight). And THEN we’ve got the deep sea stuff! Which… speaks for itself. Anyways, I’m definitely gonna keep adding to this so if you have any ideas please send them in!! And let me know if you have a favorite cause I think some of these are pretty funny :)

If you want clarification on one of these feel free to shoot me an ask and I’ll totally explain it!!

Also, as far as lore stuff, I’m basing a lot of these off of the TFwiki IDW timeline which you can find here. So, that’s my provided source.

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heyjude19-writing · 2 months

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Hey - not sure if you're aware but someone is trying to sell a binding of your fic on Etsy for profit - won't let me add the link in the questions but the user is called NovaBindery

Hi, thanks for letting me know, I’m aware there are several sellers on etsy and on instagram, tiktok, their own janky sites, etc. It’s a truly pervasive problem in our community right now.

And I’m tired of it. I’ve been urging people to keep fandom free for a while now, but it honestly feels like screaming at the sea. In the past few days alone, several dramione authors have pulled their works from ao3 and at least one has left the community altogether.

I’m not going anywhere, nor are my fics, but this abhorrent behavior is extremely disheartening. I started participating in fandom and sharing my writing because it was a fun hobby. So while I won’t be pulling my works, I can say that those who are out here commodifying my stories have made me simply want to participate less. It’s no longer fun if my extremely limited free time is spent reporting shops or fielding questions about commissions. I have lots of stories I’d love to still share, but it’s taking too much of my energy to deal with all this and then I find I no longer feel as inspired to write and share fics. When my stress relieving activity starts to become the source of stress, it’s time to pull back.

If you are a reader and you do come across these shops, please report them. Unfortunately, I have no other recourse that wouldn’t involve me revealing personal/private information and again, the entire reason I participate in fandom is to have a fun, silly time writing about two idiots kissing and to read others’ stories about the same two idiots kissing.

I sincerely appreciate all the lovely people who are trying to keep this space as free of monetization as possible. Thank you ❤

#dramione #keep fanfiction free #keep fandom free #fanfic binding #etsyseller

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zikadraws · 1 year

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An actual question which is pretty popular in the Splatoon fandom, how do you think lings wash themselves? Keep themselves clean. Canonically it is stated that water affects them.

Well I actually think I got a pretty good idea of this one !

I've made a little illustrated guide which pretty much summarizes it all, but here is my thought process beneath it anyways. (Long post buckle up)

So, while it's true that in my mind their ink is already taking care of most of their dirt, one can only swim into their own body fluids before it starts to reek. Especially while being a(n ink)fish. Besides, enemy ink inevitably creates irritations if not properly cleaned off at least once or twice a day. (Off The Hook advises to clean your tentacles thoroughly after a match canonically.)

Now about the water issue, the main thing to keep in mind is that it's mentioned it dissolves Inkfish, sure, but only if they are submerged in it (because ink is less dense that water). So I think that they can take water drops, although it's also mentioned (in a game dev interview) that their skin actually breaks really easily.

But they CAN clean themselves nevertheless ; they just have to follow a few rules.

-----------

Absolutely NO BATHS.

Showers only, but put on the lightest drop setting, to the point the water feels more like drizzle (the type of rain they endure the best), just enough to get them moist and allow them to get themselves clean.

(There are specially designed shower heads on the marketplace for that, although it's the norm to have a shower with multiple options. It's recommended to always test the shower when looking for a new place, and use a portable spawner for the first times to be extra secure. Also, check your water pressure before going for a shower.)

Be gentle with your skin and tentacles while cleaning. Use foamy soaps, preferably, and soft sponges. If you're too rough, you might break the skin.

Only run the water to get yourself moisturized, then to wash the soaps. Not any more than needed.

At any time, if it starts to sting, or you feel weak, cut the water and take a break. Listen to your body.

If you don't have the time to take a shower, if you're not feeling like it or simply don't have a shower, there are always specialized body wipes available anywhere in stores. Fitting different kinds of skins & tentacles, with various perfumes, they are ideal to be used between Turf Wars or for a quick groom on the go. You can even clean yourself integraly this way if you wish, but please if you must do that in public, do so in Swim Form. Be decent.

(However, keep in mind the body wipes may be somewhat cheap and required to be at least recyclable, and also a huge market/job source, they still represent a budget, and important waste. Avoid resorting to these only. Water is in most places paid for by the community.)

In any way, do not neglect your hygiene. Else you may develop irritations, itching, dry & crusty tentacles (especially in choppy tentacuts), infections if nontreated injuries, and of course bad odor, which gets pretty bad as you count as a fish. All of these can get you mocked of and ostracized, as Freshness comes from having your turf and yourself figured out and taken well care of (we like to show that off), and unlike you may think- YOUR PEERS NOTICE.

And, of course, always brush your beak and scrub your tongue at least twice a day. Bad hygiene within the beak is the least tolerable, squiddos <3

-----------

And so yeah, those are their golden rules when it comes to hygiene. As you can see, I might have gotten a little overboard with it, but I wanted to make it feel like a legit cleaning guide, as I suspect that's something that is taught thoroughly to young Inkfish.

They have various illustrated child books/notices about cleaning safety, and probably have at least one mandatory class about that when they're in elementary school or younger. Being fresh 'n shiny is pretty important, and they are taught to take care of their turf/living space and of themselves, because they need that so they can then properly show off. So they are taught how to do it properly and safely early on, and they're not kidding about that.

I mean in a social system where the store managers can straight up refuse to serve you if you're deemed not fresh enough, you've got to be a little serious when it comes to your personal figure.

Alright, I hope you enjoyed my explanation ! I had a lot of with it~ :))

(Also before I go, I just wanna add a filter I made of this same guide, to make it look like a poorly taken scientific report picture like in a Sunken Scroll, 'cause I thought it was Sunken Scroll material. Enjoy.)

(Thanks for asking, bye 🎵 =:> =:> =:>)

#answered ask #splatoon #splatoon 2 #splatoon 3 #splatoon headcanons #splatoon headcanon #splatoon theory #splatoon hc #inkling #octoling #and yeah lol that was #captain 3 #anyway #long post #scanner #cute

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danieldrivesfast · 1 month

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I'm sincerely worried for the future considering how media literacy and the concept of source verification is absolutely dead with a loud percentage of Gen Z/Gen Alpha kids. There's also absolutely zero critical thinking or willingness to understand the context of anything, which is doubly worrying. I hope it's just a vocal minority and not a trend across most.

It's unserious when it's about racecar things, but unfortunately I keep seeing it with serious topics, so when I come across it more and more with the unserious stuff I use to escape the serious topics... it stops feeling unserious and becomes really concerning. Super duper not fun, too.

A bit of today's nonsense? Once again preferring to listen to a "source" with zero credibility over literally everyone who is an authority and has a say in everything. Not only that, but to believe the "source" over the well-understood fact that the team's sponsors came on because of who was in the car more than to sponsor the team itself. Etc, etc, etc. Of course I'm talking about girlypops who get their giggles clinging to any "proof" that DR is getting fired.

The absolute unwillingness to see through their biases to at least form sensible or factual backups for their hate of things (not just DR) is embarrassing, frankly. There are so many uneducated fans who use wrong/not credible/misconstrued information to prop up their "arguments," and even when it's an argument I or someone agrees with, they cling to being wrong and attack the people who showed them facts instead of stepping back and reevaluating. They openly refuse to understand how things work, they'd rather spew hate at others (like Alex Albon, for example) than take a breather, learn, and be upset but still remain decent people. They claim to have the highest morals and use that to eviscerate people, but in the same week will unflinchingly prop up someone who is less than a degree separated from a literal fascist because he's a cutie pie.

A few months ago I saw someone say that Gen Z/Gen Alpha are just young Boomers with how they approach media literacy, critical thinking, confirmation bias, and their own hypocrisy and the way they have no regard for the cruelty they show others. I thought it was a horrible thing to say - until I started to realize they might be right. Existing in fandom space has rapidly been supporting that theory.

I'm going to Austin this year. Friendship bracelets are already being made. I can't wait to meet so many people and trade and share stories and experience an incredible sporting event with thousands of fans and a blossoming young, not-cishet-male demographic. And sometimes I think about the fact I'll likely be trading bracelets with people who've wished drivers dead/injured, spread horrible lies about them or their loved ones, actively contributed to ripping down drivers' mental health, and countless other awful things and think it's perfectly okay because it in no way affected them personally.

Anyway.

#formula 1 #daniel ricciardo #alex albon #lando norris #yuki tsunoda #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #george russell #logan sargeant #lewis hamilton #oscar piastri #f1 #toxic fandom #old lady rant #I'm yelling into the void #off my chest

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rejectedfables · 6 months

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While the source material clearly intends Xue Yang to be read as an orphan (perhaps orphaned so young he has no memory of his parents), I think it’s underexplored in fandom that he never ACTUALLY SAYS that his parents DIED, but rather that he was a child without parents.

"He had neither dad nor mom nor money" (via the official english translation)

I think there's something in here worth exploring about the possibility that Xue Yang was abandoned by his parents.

Perhaps he remembers one or both of them and/or the event, perhaps he does not but just has a sense of it having happened, perhaps he has no memories of it at all but it still psychologically impacted his development.

Just about every character in the story can be better understood by looking at how they were raised, and Xue Yang is CERTAINLY not an exception.

There are myriad ways to interpret his childhood (though none of them stable, safe, or cared for), but I have been thinking a LOT lately about how being abandoned by his parents could have shaped him into who he later became.

His behavior in the Villainous Friends extra (wherein he, seemingly arbitrarily, breaks things and antagonizes people and then specifically challenges Jin Guangyao about paying for damages) COULD be interpreted as acting out in a way that's common for children and teens with a history of abandonment who are testing the waters of just how much their new guardian/s will tolerate. This sort of behavior can be a self fulfilling prophesy as well as an attempt to prove to themselves that their expectations of rejection or punishment are correct.

If Xue Yang has only ever known the world to be a painful place where people reject and abandon him, then that's how he expects the world to continue behaving. If suddenly someone defies this expectation, it is simultaneously a fascinating and wondrous thing, and also a threat to his worldview. After all, if THIS person can be kind and care for him, then why didn't anyone else?

If JGY, who at this point is essentially just his handler, can be unconditionally patient with him... then why couldn't others have been patient with him over much less? And why couldn't his own parents, who had considerably higher responsibility to him, be as patient as JGY?

It's much easier to push and push and push until you break the patience and prove your cynicism correct, than it is to grapple with those painful questions. And after all, Jin Guangyao had an exterior force (Jin Guangshan) requiring him to show patience. And once that force was removed, so was Xue Yang. This, perhaps, felt as much like validation as it did betrayal.

There might be a parallel to be made here, too, about how JGY was and felt betrayed/abandoned by his father. This in common might be something that they bonded over.

And of course, as always, there's Yi City.

Xue Yang expects Xiao Xingchen to abandon him, and his elaborate “revenge” was at least in part in preparation for that anticipated betrayal. He "knows" he will be betrayed and, perhaps unlike what happened with Jin Guangyao, he intends to be ready for it this time. Ready to punish Xiao Xingchen the MOMENT it happens, or ready to convince him not to betray him after all (what is "We're not so different, I'm not uniquely evil, you're ending our life together because you think you're better than me but look! Look! You and I are the same now" if not a deeply misguided and utterly desperate plea?).

At some point he starts hoping it just won't happen, and stops needing the “revenge” plot. When it starts unraveling before him, he tries for understanding first. What is "Hear my story, THEN decide--" if not begging to be understood?

Of course it doesn't work.

Xiao Xingchen doesn't even kill Xue Yang, either; he goes Away. Goes where Xue Yang can't. If Xue Yang is read as having this particular trigger, Xiao Xingchen's suicide may feel like abandonment all over again.

Perhaps Xiao Xingchen NOT killing Xue Yang becomes a parallel to Xue Yang's parents abandoning him to suffer alone instead of keeping him or killing him. Or else maybe Xue Yang's mother DID try to kill him (drown him or left him out in the cold) and he just managed to survive, in which case Xiao Xingchen NOT trying to kill Xue Yang puts him a cut above even Xue Yang's own mother/parents.

Final thought:

While I find Xue Yang's lack of familial connection to the rest of the cast compelling, I also find "what if" scenarios fascinating to explore, and "Xue Yang was abandoned by parents who might still be around during the story" does create some fascinating opportunities for fic.

Such as:

What if Xue Yang was yet another illegitimate son of Jin Guangshan? What if he knew but Jin Guangyao didn't? What if Jin Guangyao knew but Xue Yang didn't? What if Jin Guangshan himself knew? That would really put the insistent protections into a very weird light (is there a heart in there? Or did he think he could string Xue Yang along like he did Jin Guangyao? Or was Xue Yang blackmailing him?)

What if Xue Yang was the illegitimate son of Chang Cian? It certainly puts a spin on that entire scenario. Little Xue Yang has another reason to want to please this man, and a further reason to feel betrayed by the abuse. Chang Cian not even recognizing him. Xue Yang taking revenge on the entire family because they ALL wronged him in a way he can't articulate. Because they got to live the life he could have if he'd been wanted.

Certainly none of this is canon, but it's not TERRIBLY far beyond the bounds of canon either, and makes for some juicy food for fic.

#Mdzs #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #the grandmaster of diabolism #Yi city #Xue yang #mdzs meta #yi cheng #xue chengmei #xuexiao

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five-bi-five-mind · 10 months

Text

I Can’t Love You In the Dark

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader

Genre: Angst; Hurt & Comfort; a lil Fluff

Words: 5.8k+

Summary: It wasn’t easy to be in love with JJ, especially when she kept you in the shadows. There was honestly no reason for her to hide you either. At least, not one that you understood. At first you said you understood, but after such a long time of being with her... you were at your limit. Would she make the leap for you or do you just have to walk away once and for all?

Warnings: You could maybe take this as JJ is closeted so warning for that sort of topic. Although is she or is she just JJ? Who knows... Otherwise no other warnings.

A/N: It feels weird to end Pride Month on this note but hopefully the fic is something folks enjoy. Idk I just love writing emotionally guarded JJ and this was... I guess what I came up with? Oops.

It was getting harder for you. When things first started you told yourself you were okay with it all. You understood. It didn’t have to be public, not right away anyways. But then things got even more serious and you wanted more, but you never wanted to push. So, you asked for some progress to be made. JJ was receptive, at least you thought so. She agreed and she promised. Baby steps, that’s what it would need to be. Baby steps. You could do that, you reassured her that you understood that too. Only, that first conversation was months ago and nothing has changed.

You thought at least by now she would be holding your hand in public. Taking you on dates that didn’t consist of sitting at either her or your place and watching movies in the dark. It was getting increasingly harder to pretend that she meant nothing to you other than just someone you worked with when you all went out for drinks as a department. The stolen moments she spent with you when no one was looking were starting to get less exciting and, honestly, a little more sad for you. You just really needed more from her.

It hadn’t been a short time since you two started dating either. It’s been over a year now. So, a year of waiting, a year of hiding, and a year of pining to be like other couples. It was a year of desperately wanting to introduce JJ to your family and having her finally let you meet hers. Except you couldn’t. She wouldn’t allow it.

When you two got started, you were honestly a little shocked that it had happened at all. Yeah, you had a small inkling that the spark you felt around her was not one-sided, but still JJ had never made any indication that she was gay, straight, or otherwise. In fact, JJ didn’t really talk much about romantic relationships in any type of way. You knew that Will had existed. From what you gathered from other people around the BAU, he was a little pushy, a little inconsiderate, and eventually they split before anything could get serious. That was about as much as you knew about JJ’s dating history in general before you two hooked up.

But then you started to notice the way she would look at you. She wasn’t exactly subtle. It surprised you that none of the team had said a word about it or even seemed to notice it. Maybe it was just because you paid so much attention to her that you were able to spot that she was doing the same thing. Either way, eventually one thing led to another and you found yourself locked in a heated kiss with Jennifer Jareau, the source of all your pining from the moment you got the job at the BAU, right in front of your apartment after she dropped you off one random, late night.

It was all history from there. JJ would come over often after work and one kiss would lead to another and then another until it led to even more. Suddenly, she was telling you she loved you and you two were promising each other that even if you weren’t public, you were exclusive. It made you happy at first. Until it didn’t.

You saw your other friends have open, loving relationships and you couldn’t help but want more. Some days all you wanted to do was grab her hand in public and take her on dates where she wouldn’t care who bumped into her. The desire to one day be able to just lean over and kiss her cheek as you walk out of work or embrace her in relief after she gets back from a terrifying case overwhelmed you. You so deeply wanted to proudly love her and, yes, you said you could wait, but you’ve already been waiting so long. You were beginning to think you’d never get that.

Honestly, you weren’t quite sure why she was so hesitant to love you in public. She had never said anything about any of the team or her own family being against her loving another woman. JJ had said you weren’t the first she was with, in fact. Just the first she was actually serious about. But if she was so serious about you, then why the hesitation? Was it because you were also someone who worked at the BAU? You weren’t exactly even on the team, you just filled in for Penelope as the tech person when asked to. So, yeah you could see why it might be a small controversy for her to be dating a coworker, but it wasn’t like it would be the end all be all if they knew you two were together. Worst case, you two would split and you’d transfer to another unit. No big deal. So what was the problem? It was starting to get harder and harder to ignore the feeling that it was because she was ashamed of you. She assured you that wasn’t the case, but these feelings about being kept her secret were just starting to pile up.

And then there was the case that broke it all for you.

This was one of the semi-rare moments where you would fill in for Penelope, so you had every detail of this case at your fingertips. It was a hard one, the images you had to go through churned your stomach and the details on the unsub had you looking over your own shoulder, even if the team was working on the case from miles and miles away. But what was worse was your fear for them while they were out there. Or, more specifically, your fear for JJ’s safety.

Something about this case felt different. It was like you had a gut feeling that something bad was going to happen. And of fucking course, your gut was right. You got the update from Emily and the way she spoke to you, as if your other half wasn’t currently in grave danger, struck you. She had no way of knowing. Of course, no one did. Her professionalism was completely understandable as she gave you orders on what to do from your side of the country to help the team. You’ve never worked faster on your end before until you heard that JJ was in danger. “Held hostage” were the words Emily used. She was calm, but you could still hear a slight change in her voice. As subtle as it was, you could tell she was anxious too. It was just her job to keep her cool.

What was incredibly difficult for you was to do the same. You knew now was not the time to go exposing JJ and your relationship with her, but all you wanted to do was beg to go there. To be closer to the situation. Hell, you’d fist fight your way into the place she was being held if you had to. All you wanted was to make sure you saw her in person. If you could just run into her arms and assure yourself she was okay then everything would be better. But you couldn’t. If you asked to take a jet and be closer to help more, Emily would say it was unnecessary. If you pushed it, she would ask why. You were stuck there, waiting painfully for updates to come from the other end of the phone.

Of course, everything turned out kind of okay in the end. JJ was injured, but not severely. Scrapes and bruises, you were assured over text by JJ herself. Except, you were still way too anxious to buy that.

So instead you wanted to see for yourself. You knew when she was getting in, so you waited in the office for the team to return. When the jet landed it was only a matter of time before the whole team began flooding in to gather whatever things they left behind before taking off for this case a few days prior. You sat at JJ’s desk, nervously twiddling with your fingers while you kept your eyes glued to the hallway for signs of the team.

Finally, you saw signs of the team. Hotch was first to walk in, then Emily, then Derek who also looked a little battered but still in one piece. Then you saw Spencer and Rossi, but still no JJ. They all seemed pretty intact, minus Derek’s minor injuries, but that immediately made you feel a little relieved. If they weren’t too beaten up then hopefully JJ wasn’t either. But why hadn’t you seen her yet?

Another minute went by and then another and you were getting anxious again. The team greeted you in passing as if nothing was wrong, but they didn’t know the real reason you were waiting. Finally, you heard footsteps again and there was JJ walking through the hall.

Okay, walking was pushing it. More like she was limping. No wonder it took her a few extra minutes to catch up. She looked rough. There were bruises on her jaw, bandages on her forehead, and with every step you could tell she was wincing. Minor scrapes and bruises, your ass. You’d bet a month’s salary that under those bandages were a handful of stitches. If you didn’t know any better, by the way she looked with each step, you’d also say that she had a few broken ribs.

Either way, you immediately shot up from where you sat the moment you laid eyes on her. Before JJ could reach you, you were already speed walking towards her. She hadn’t noticed you for a second, too busy focusing on actually managing to make her way through the BAU with her injuries.

When she did finally see you coming, she stopped in her tracks. You stopped too once you were right in front of her. Your plan was to just get a closer look, ask her an innocent question of if she was okay or not. It wasn’t like you were going to fling yourself into her arms. Honestly, if you did that you thought she wouldn’t be able to remain standing.But then her face said it all as she saw you standing before her. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Her eyes shot around you to the rest of the team, no doubt checking to see if any of them were watching. You would wager a bet that they weren’t. They were probably all too busy trying to get home to their families to pay attention to you too. But still, JJ didn’t seem to notice that. She was looking more withdrawn by the second.

You took a step closer to her. Right now, you were just trying to shake off her reaction to make sure she was okay. That was your top priority. Because, from the looks of it, her appearance screamed that she got the shit kicked out of her.

Your eyes took her in now that you were closer. She had definitely changed since before she got back on the jet, but still she seemed a little disheveled. JJ had bruises on her neck that you could tell dipped down underneath her collar. When your eyes scanned her whole body, you didn’t miss the way she shifted her weight off one foot to the other. She must have hurt her ankle too, you deduced. Then your eyes landed on her hands. One of them was heavily bandaged around her palm, the other wasn’t as well wrapped and you could see that each of her knuckles were badly scraped.

The first thing that went through your mind was a dreadful curiosity at what she went through when held hostage. The next was that she had most definitely been through a trauma. Without really thinking, you took the hand that was bandaged into yours.

You held it in your palm, flipping it over in your hands. She let you for a moment, but only a moment. “What happened to…” you trailed off when you realized she was slowly trying to pull away. Your own hand fell to your side as she pulled back from you as if your cautious touch still stung. For a second, you thought that was exactly it. That you had accidently hurt her palm without intending to, but then you looked up at her and she gave you an indiscreet shake of her head. One that told you not here. You knew that look and that reaction well.

Your heart sank. You felt frustrated. Way too frustrated for being the one who didn’t just go through something that was probably incredibly scary. But still, it was a different kind of trauma to wait back at the BAU while the love of your life was captured and you didn’t know if she would ever come home.

You took one, then two big steps back. You shouldn’t have felt so hurt, but the pain of her action flooded your chest immediately. She mouthed a “tonight” to you as you got space from her. You knew that was her way of confirming she would be coming to your place after a few hours of decompressing from the case.

All you did was nod. The rest of the night you joined the team as you all packed up and got ready to go to your own homes. All the small talk you had, you made sure to do it as far away from JJ as possible. It was hard, but you tried your best not to look her way. However, you definitely could still feel her eyes on you from across the room.

—----------------------------------------------------------------

As per your usual routine with JJ, you heard a knock on your apartment door about 30 minutes after you had arrived home yourself. It was way past sundown, but even so you could see the exhaustion in JJ’s face with the moonlight as you greeted her at the door. You didn’t say anything when you opened the door for her, you just stepped aside and she followed you in.

In the short time you had been alone after saying goodnight to the team and making your way to your apartment, you had made a decision. It was time to finally walk away. You knew that it was the right decision for you, even if it felt like a punch in the gut. But you couldn’t live like this anymore. It was nearly impossible to hide your feelings and concerns for her. And then her reaction to you tonight? It felt like a knife to the heart. All you wanted was to make sure she was okay. The team showed just as much affection for her, so why weren’t you allowed that too? It was getting so hard to not take these rejections, the sneaking around, and everything else that came with loving JJ in the shadows to be something more personal.

So, maybe this was a decision that shouldn’t have been made in 30 minutes. It was big after all. She was the woman you’ve loved for so long. But then again, did you really make this decision in just 30 minutes? It felt like a decision waiting to be made for months now. It loomed over you like a menacing shadow.

But then before you could get very far into your apartment, JJ’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind and you felt her lean her head down to press her cheek to your shoulder. She took a few deep breaths, taking you in after the trauma she had just been through.

You froze for a moment, your heart squeezing in pain. “I didn’t think I’d get this again,” JJ mumbled into your shoulder, her arms tightening around you. Those words struck your heart like a bolt of lightning. Your eyes squeezed shut and you bowed your head. The threat of tears was imminent. You had to be strong right now, you just had to be. But what if you were selfish? Just for a moment… She could have died, you reasoned with yourself. So indulge, because after this night you’ll cut yourself off from JJ completely.

JJ started to turn you in her arms. You let her, even though it was clearly a mistake. The way she looked at you took your breath away. For a moment it was apologetic but then it quickly turned into something else. Her hand pressed against your cheek, urging you to meet her eyes. Something you were so desperately trying to avoid. A single tear slid down your cheek and JJ swiped it away gently with her thumb.

“It’s okay,” She whispered. “I’m okay.” Those were the words she thought you wanted to hear. She knew you had fear for her during this case. The reaction you had at the BAU told her that that fear wasn’t quite eased, even with her return. But that wasn’t why you were struggling not to cry. Yes, it was a small part of it. You needed her to be okay, even if you were about to walk away. She held your heart in her hands, that care and love for her wouldn’t go away any time soon, if ever. No, you were trying not to cry because of how soft she was being. While you couldn’t feel her love out in public, it was in these small private moments where you really understood her feelings for you. It made everything all the more difficult.

She was looking at you as if you were her whole world. Like she would do almost anything to keep you safe even if she was originally the one who’s life was in danger. It was breathtaking, really, the way her eyes were so expressive when she let herself openly love you. It was that expressiveness that only you got to see that made you fall in love with her in the first place. And right now it was tearing your heart apart.

You both stood there in the middle of your apartment for god knows how long. Neither of you were watching the time. She just held you for a while, her arms running up and down your back to comfort you. As much as she loved seeing you and having the alone time with you right now, she was starting to feel that something was off. The minute she walked in, there was heaviness between the two of you that she wasn’t quite used to. It felt like it was creeping under her skin and making her whole body flood with anxiety. And you knew she could sense your mood after a while with the way her arms squeezed you that much closer. The conversation you needed to have wouldn’t be easy, the decision you were making felt like you were about to rip out the biggest part of you.

There wasn’t anyone in your life you loved more than JJ. She was more than your love, she was your life line, protecting you and healing you from all the terrifying things you’d seen in the profession you chose. It especially was hard when asked to fill in for Garcia. The cases JJ worked on seemed more brutal than most, but she faced them head on. You admired her for her strength and you appreciated her understanding of your inability to stomach it all. The way she would pull you into her arms at night and wash away your fears will always be something you’d be grateful for. It was something she was so desperately trying to do for you now, despite all she herself had gone through. There wouldn’t ever be enough words to tell her how much that gesture meant to you. She was always your anchor, she was trying to be that now, but it wasn’t enough. You didn’t want to stop loving Jennifer Jareau, but even more so you didn’t want to be loved by her in the dark. So, maybe right now you were a little selfish. Maybe as she held you in her strong arms, you let her for a little longer than you should. But you still knew what had to be done.

She pressed a hand to the back of your head as she held you. You nuzzled your face closer into her neck, inhaling the comforting scent that was unique to her. Trying with everything inside of you to savor the feeling of her embrace and every other detail that came with JJ before you had to force yourself to let go. It almost seemed like she was doing the same as she buried her own face into the top of your head.

It was when she whispered an “I love you” before pressing a kiss to your head that told you, you had been selfish enough. Those words washed over you like frigid water and suddenly everything inside of you that was in so much pain just screamed even louder.

JJ felt the shift in your body after she did that. Your entire body felt tense in her embrace in an instant and she could tell you were ready to withdraw. She felt the resistance in you when her arms held you tighter.

“Hey,” JJ pulled back to look at you. “What’s going on?” Her hands rubbed at your back, trying to encourage you to relax into her again.

“I…” You couldn’t bear to look at her. Your heart broke as you tried your best to stay strong and take this step for yourself. With your eyes looking everywhere but at her face you finally said, “I think this might be too hard for me, JJ.”

JJ gave you the most heartbroken look you’ve ever seen, but she didn’t let go of you. Instead, her hands moved to your own so she could interlock her fingers with yours. “I know it’s hard,” her voice was barely a whisper. She kept your hands in her own, pulling one up to her lips. With her lips pressed against your skin, she mumbled, “Let me make it easier for us.”

“How would you do that, JJ?” You wanted to put all your hopes into those words. The sincerity in her voice made your heart pound, but still you were hurting. Things weren’t easy when you were in love with Jennifer Jaruea and forced to hide it. It was exhausting, honestly, and you’ve heard her promises before. Things never changed, so how were you to trust that this time would be different.

“I’ll figure it out,” she said as she looked back up at you. That wasn’t a very reassuring answer, but for some reason that you couldn’t understand, she sounded so sure. Still, the resolve in you was slipping. Your head was spinning. You knew if you let her keep being so soft with you, so loving, you’d back out and say never mind to all of this, never mind to standing your ground and stopping the pain of being hidden by her. This wasn’t something you could say never mind to anymore.

“Jennifer,” You took a step back and let go of her hands. She watched with a pained look as your eyes started to brim with tears. “I need more than this.”

“I know, I know. And we can have more I promise, I just need-”

“No,” You interrupted. Your voice wasn’t loud, it wasn’t harsh. It was barely above a whisper even, but it was firm and it immediately made JJ snap her jaw shut as she waited for you to continue. “You’ve promised before. I… I think I need you to go.”

JJ just stood there for a moment as she watched you back up even further from her. The space you were taking from her was both literal and figurative as with each physical step you took it felt like you were trying to do the same emotionally. The pain in her eyes was twisting at your heart, but this needed to happen. And with each step your resolve grew a little more.

For a moment you both just stared at each other. The heavy silence in the room hung over you both with such a soul crushing heaviness. JJ could see you weren’t backing down, as much as it broke her heart. After a moment, she just nodded. You watched as she turned to leave without saying a word.

What killed you the most was the look of resolve JJ had in her eyes as she left you. Part of you hoped that look was a sign of determination to fix things. However, knowing JJ the way you did, it probably was her way of resolving to close herself off from you once and for all. Okay then, you thought, you could do the same.

That night you curled up in your bed alone, hugging your knees to your chest while you mourned the loss of your love. Tomorrow when you walked into the BAU it would be a new day, you’d pick yourself up and begin to heal.

——————————————

A week had gone by since that night. There were no calls from JJ since she walked out the door, no texts. There was radio silence. It was something that both hurt you to your very core and that you were unfortunately grateful for. If she had called you probably would’ve caved.

When you were at the BAU, she barely even looked your way. Luckily for you, you didn’t have to communicate with her as you helped close up the case you had been called in for. Any time you did catch a glimpse of her, it felt like you shattered into a million pieces all over again. Everything about your decision hurt, even if you knew it was the right one. These things take time right? Isn’t that what everyone says? So then why does it feel like you let your own world end right before your eyes.

But still, it’s been seven days and you haven’t caved yet. Yeah, JJ didn’t look at you, but you couldn’t help but steal painful glances at her. That was probably the only small backstep you’d ever let yourself take now. You couldn’t help it though, you were worried for her.

She did look better with each passing day. Physically though, not emotionally. When you did see JJ’s face, she looked exhausted. Like she hadn’t slept in days. Honestly she looked… like you. You wondered if she couldn’t sleep without you the same way you couldn’t sleep without her. It was something you needed to stop thinking about.

Despite all the pain and the inner battle to not go against your own promises, you were still able to hold strong. You worried for her so deeply and you ached to take her back, but you held your ground. At this point, you didn’t know what it would take to trust JJ’s words or what could possibly fix things. But you also thought JJ’s pride was hurt enough to never ask for you back either. You knew when you made this decision, if it was going to be over it would probably really be over.

So, when she tapped you on the shoulder while you were working with Penelope on learning some new tech, it really caught you off guard.

“Can we talk?” JJ looked at you anxiously as spoke. You were speechless for a moment, not sure how to respond. This should be about work, right? If she was asking right in front of Penelope, it had to be. But if it wasn’t, what would happen? Would you break and run back into her arms? There was a strong possibility you’d break all your new rules and do just that.

“Please?” She asked again. Penelope looked at you with a curious look and you realized the tension between you two was probably causing some suspicions to arise.

“Yeah,” you finally relented.

“Great,�� JJ gave you a nervous nod. “Come with me?” She didn’t even wait for you to agree to that before spinning on her heel and leaving the room.

You tried to follow her as best you could, but it was like she was on a mission. Never had you felt so much nervous energy radiating off the blonde than you did right now. It was quickly putting you on edge too. Whatever her behavior was, you were really starting to think this wasn’t work related. You felt your stomach twist into anxious knots as you followed JJ to wherever she was going.

Soon, you realized she was taking you to her desk. A very public, professional space, you thought. The anxiety slightly dissipated, but when JJ shoved a small stack of papers in your hand it was quickly replaced with confusion.

“I need you to sign a couple things,” she said as she handed you a pen.

“What uh…” You scanned the page trying to make sense of what was in front of you. “What is all this?”

“Paperwork.” JJ was avoiding your eyes when you looked back up to give her a skeptical glare. You could see that much, but still when did she ever need you to do paperwork? That really wasn’t your part of the job.

When JJ realized you weren’t going to actually read any of it or sign anything until she explained more she let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s for HR,” She finally said.

HR? Your eyebrows shot up.

“It’s- Look I-” JJ was really struggling to find the right words. “I like to do things by the books. You need to sign that so we don’t get in trouble for… for being…”

She was still struggling and you just waited. Confusion still filled your mind. Was she trying to get you to sign stuff so that you wouldn’t report her for the things you two did behind closed doors? You hoped she would know you’d never do that to her, but then again this was JJ. She was always so cautious, so guarded.

JJ took a deep breath, trying to center herself before trying to speak again. Finally, you watched as her shoulders squared and she looked you dead in the eye. “I need you to sign those so that we can be a couple and do this right without getting in trouble.”

To say you looked shocked would’ve been an understatement. Your eyes went from her to the paper to her again. Did you hear her right? As if reading your mind, JJ took the papers in your hand, placing them down on her desk before taking your own hand into hers. You stared at the way her palm cradled your hand in the public space of the BAU with disbelief.

“Just hear me out for a second,” JJ started and you barely managed to tear your eyes away from the fact that she was actually holding your hand right now.

“Many of us,” JJ started, “have had close calls. We’ve seen the worst. We’ve lived through it. And all of us carry regrets.” JJ paused for a moment, taking another deep breath. “Now, when you’re faced with the worst, those regrets come to the surface. They play through your mind over and over again until you feel sick.”

JJ’s hand squeezed yours and you were yet again caught off guard by how raw and open JJ was being. Her eyes shined with the threat of tears and you barely saw her this vulnerable in private. Now you two were out in the open… Your eyes darted behind you to catch a glimpse of both Derek and Emily who just stood back in the corner of the large office space. There was no doubt in your mind that they weren’t hearing all of this. That little fact shocked you even more. JJ had to be aware that they were there, right?

“When I was held hostage last week, I never imagined that my biggest regret was that I didn’t kiss you before I left.” You let out a gasp as she continues. The words were finally in the air. If holding your hand in public hadn’t been obvious to everyone involved that there was something between you two then that really did. “And, I promise, if you let me, I will never let myself have that regret again. So, please… Please, let me?”

When you wondered before if there was anything JJ could do to get you back and make it up to you, never did you think she would do this. But goddamn was it the right fucking thing to do.

You bit your lip hard, trying your best to hold back tears. All you could do was fervently nod your head in agreement. You wanted to scream Yes! Yes 100 times yes! But the words weren’t able to come out. Not with JJ grabbing your face in a flash and pulling her lips to crash against yours.

Somewhere in the back of the room you could hear Derek cheer and if it were any other moment you’d roll your eyes at how cheesy and cliche this moment was. But right now you didn’t care. You kissed JJ back, trying with every fiber of your being to show her just how much you loved her and how badly you needed this exact moment.

You had no idea you were waiting for this moment since the minute she walked out of your apartment. Even more, you had no idea JJ was planning this moment since the minute you told her you needed more. God, but it was just what you both needed.

JJ pulled back from the kiss to press her forehead to yours, the palm of her hand caressing your cheek. Never had you felt so loved, especially in public, than in that very moment and it made your heart pound in your chest in the best possible way.

“Finally!” You heard Derek holler behind the two of you.

“You owe me fifty bucks,” You heard Rossi say from somewhere else in the room. “I told you they’d get it together eventually.”

“It’s not that I thought they wouldn’t,” Penelope argued from the same corner Rossi’s voice came from. “It’s just that I thought it would happen a lot later.”

You and JJ pulled back from each other, but not before JJ’s hands slipped back into yours. She gave you the brightest, most beautiful smile you had ever seen and as you stared up at her you thought, in this moment, you’ve never loved her more.

“I think it took me long enough. Don’t you?” JJ gave you a sheepish grin. “But I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

And you believed her. With everything in your heart, you believed her.

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snickerdoodlles · 22 days

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I was gonna ask you for ☕☕☕ on Kim characterisations but I know that could put you at risk of assassination 💀 so free choice! Any ☕ on anything you need to get off your chest - I love u

😂 it is a choose violence game, let's play with fire 🔥 three Kim characterizations i don't much care for:

writing Kim as really old

like. hmmmm. i feel like a lot of fic out there is just really bad at characterizing young 20 yos, there are a lot of stories that write Kim's vibes like he's 38 yo or something. it's. bizarre. 21/22 yo is still so young. there's still so much uncertainty at that age and so much self-discovery to come. i've complained about this before so i don't want to just rehash that but. yeesh. some people really kinda suck at writing "kid in college" aged characters.

not letting Kim be playful

honestly, this one kinda follows on the previous point? there's a very annoying trend of writing ~older~ characters as only ever very serious. and like, aside from the irritation at the way people are really bad at early 20s vibes, people never outgrow playfulness. in canon, i'm pointing to Porsche trapping Kinn under the sheets and farting or them huffing their morning breaths in each other's faces (i love u canon ❤). but people still do ridiculous shit at 40/50/60/70/80/ALL THE AGES too. 40yo sisters who greet each other by punching the other in the boob. the 60yo neighbor who tells me my shoelaces are untied every time he sees me in sandals. the 50yo uncle who flicks popcorn in the mouths of anyone who falls asleep during movie night. there's no age limit to this sort of thing!

but while some of the ultra seriousness seems to be a weird age thing, it's like people also missed that Kim is playful? he's very intense when he's in mafia business mode and he's a nightmare to the guards (❤), but he plays along with Khun. he teases Chay. he has a good rapport with other university students. he can be more lowkey playful than others, but Kim's not made of stone, he has his fun too.

Wik being a burden on Kim

this one starts running into differences in headcanon-- like personally, i'm looking for fics where Wik is Kim's home. i've cried about this elsewhere so i'll keep it short, but Wik is the life Kim poured blood, sweat, and tears into to build up brick by brick. Wik is the life Kim wants, it's the parts of him he thinks are the best of him. i actually make the MC of the ep4 university one of Kim's best friends (i call him Green), and one of my favorite headcanons i've come up with for them is that everyone thinks Green twists Kim's arm into doing outreach events, but actually Green is Kim's connection to university news because he loves doing them but never knows who to ask. Kim desperately wants to be a source of good inspiration to others and have purpose outside of violence, and Wik is his way of doing that. Wik is not a burden on Kim (in fact, i'd argue Kim all but said he is a burden on Wik, but i digress).

so, that's my personal preference for Kim's relationship with Wik, but obviously not everyone's going to have the same characterization and that's cool. where i start to get annoyed is when people write him as very...hmm. dismissive? of it. or otherwise seems like he doesn't like any aspect of it. i straight up back click on any fic that has Kim fuck up the name of some popular musician. this is not a specific call out, but for example-- i remember reading something where there was this offhand line of Kim being like "and there's a request for a show with some other musician, wangson jack?" and just. no. back click, goodbye, nope. shit like that really starts to bug me. some of it is personal irritation at how awful a lot of english speakers are towards asian artists (which like. random fandom people are not at fault for the crimes of USamerican music reporters. but maybe consider that until people overall are less shitty and dismissive towards them, one off lines referencing real life musicians like this are better off deleted). but over all i just...really, really dislike disrespectful attitudes like that (esp for something related to the arts) and i don't want to read them in my favorite character. Kim is pursuing a career in the music industry for himself--Kim being, u know, Kim, he's going to take it very seriously and with that, also hold a lot of respect towards his fellow musicians generally speaking. at the very least, he's going to be cordial and pleasant with them because no one likes working with an asshole and Kim is trying to keep his mafia bullshit far away from his Wik goals. not everyone's going to have the same characterization headcanons i do for how much i think Kim would pour himself into music and love it, but i really don't vibe with any take where Wik is a burden on or a drag for Kim.

and a bonus ☕ because i luv u too anon: anything where Kim doesn't love his brothers or sees them as actual competition instead of the ones he wants to protect the most. this is not a surprise to anyone here, u all know how much i love brothers, but i've noticed that fandom gets kinda caught up in the chess metaphors sometimes. and to that i say: 1. Terry Pratchett yall: sin is when you treat people like things. 2. Terry Pratchett again: chess is a stupid ass metaphor for real life. 3. kp canon agrees with that. Korn is shit at playing chess. (the fucking. ep1 game. omfg. Chan is all but eating his pieces to let Korn win. i'm still howling over the scholars mate in ep5.) Korn is noticeably shit at all his hobbies that are metaphors for controlling people. which is the point! the boys fail every time they try to play his games, because you cannot play people like you would a game. every triumph is rooted in overturning the game board completely.

[ send a ☕, get a bitchy* fic opinion ]

*personal preference related, we’re not here to be mean

#thank u anon this was fun 😂#kinnporsche #tea asks

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theharlotofferelden · 27 days

Text

So I was checking out Greg Ellis' IMDB page to see if he's been in anything recently. I mainly wanted to know if the whole blowup between him and Mark Darrah 3 years ago that resulted in him making a YouTube video speaking in Cullen's voice while beseeching the Dragon Age fandom to rise up against Cancel Culture affected his career in any way.

This was swiftly forgotten, however, due to the fact that I got really caught up in the wall of text that is his Mini Bio.

It's a lot, right? Usually when I see bios on IMDB they're less than a paragraph. But what got me was the inclusion of all these weird details. How Greg "mastered the Rubik's cube at 12" and that he's "skydived 10,000 feet above the earth" (so? ppl skydive, man, why is this important). But then there's this mention that he has over 20 action figures of characters he's portrayed in film and television. Like... seriously? This is really worth including in your IMDB Bio? Then right at the bottom it says the Bio was written by PR which lol

Anyway, I didn't post on tumblr dot com just to dunk on all the questionable details Greg PR decided to include in his IMDB.

What I wanna talk about is this lil detail here:

Now, I've read his IMDB bio a couple times over the years and have never really questioned whether Greg was truly nominated for an Emmy. Like, who tf would lie about being nominated for an Emmy? But then I started wondering what the Emmy was for (seeing as how he neglects to mention it in his bio) so I decided to do some digging into what he was nominated for.

Doing a general google search turned up nothing so I decided to try his website to see if he supplies more details, and he does.

Again, he neglects to mention what the nomination was for, but says that he was nominated for his role on 24. So naturally I did a search for 24 Emmy nominations.

It is at this point I become aware that the Emmys have not only dedicated pages for shows that have won Emmys, but also a search function.

Guess whose name isn't listed on 24's Emmy Award page?

Guess whose name doesn't reveal any results for even something as basic as an Emmy nomination?

Even under his legal name? Or the other version of his legal name?

Okay, so maybe they just neglected to add him on the 24 page. If Greg was nominated for anything, it would most likely be under "Outstanding Supporting Actor In A Drama Series" as he was a guest actor for 9 episodes of the show (as Michael Amador) between 2003 and 2004.

He's not listed in the nominees for 2003, 2004, or even 2005 (just to be generous). And since I bothered to look it up just to double check, here's a YouTube video for every year in this category: 2003, 2004, 2005.

-------

While all this may seem like a bit much just to emphasize that Greg is lying about an Emmy nomination, I need it to be understood that I did my best trying to verify its existence. On the off chance it turns out the nomination exists somewhere, let it be known I'll delete this post and apologize for misinforming people.

But I just gotta say, if it's not on the Emmy's website or even his own Wikipedia page, then where tf is it? Like, I get that Wikipedia isn't a totally reliable source, but Gregory Itzin, who actually was nominated twice on 24 as a supporting actor, has it not only mentioned on his wikipedia page, but also has one of his nominations sourced (if you click on the link it will download a PDF).

So until proof that he was ever nominated turns up, I'm going to assume he's lying about it. Which is funny when you consider he's not even lying about winning an Emmy, he's lying about being nominated for one. He's lying about losing an Emmy. Like, could you imagine if Tommy Tallarico lied about almost being on MTV Cribs?

Anyway please reblog this post and feel free to steal it because I find this extremely funny and would love it if someone asked Greg why the internet isn't turning up results for his Totally Real Emmy Nomination.

ETA - Adding a link to @aidanchaser pointing out that it seems like Greg is claiming he was nominated under the categories for "outstanding casting in a drama series" and/or "outstanding drama series" based on what he says about the nomination on his website, along with my reply as I was aware of those nominations but didn't make the connection between them and what he says on his website.

I'm only going to add here that his claim to this nomination is a huge stretch because, by similar logic, if 24 actually won either of those nominations, basically anyone who worked on 24 could claim that they're an Emmy award winning guest actor or production designer, which entirely misrepresents the award being given as it hollistically takes into account various parts of the casting and production. Like, there's a reason there's separate categories for this stuff, and the fact that he seems so comfortable making this claim on his IMDB that he's an "Emmy nominated actor" based on those nominations is such a wild stretch.

And it's clear to me this obfuscation was intentional because he could've easily said that he worked on the "Emmy award winning show, 24" because that's more accurate to the truth of his involvement with the production (i.e. that he worked on a show that won muliple awards). But specifically claiming he was "nominated" lends credence to the notion that he was nominated specifically for his work while still technically being true (despite that claim being bullshit).

#greg ellis #greg ellis critical #dragon age #pirates of the caribbean #<- tagging because i know there's peeps in both fandoms that hates his guts and figured y'all would want a laugh at his expense #apologies if this has been pointed out during the time this post has languished in my drafts #eta - added additional context #may add more later but for now i need to stop procrastinating and get shit done lmao

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awarmbowlofhomemadesoup · 5 months

Text

How to Build Resilience in Long Fanfic Writing

Sometimes, when a fanfic goes past 20 chapters, people who had been commenting, began to lose interest. Maybe you'll start doubting your skill or whether you "have what it takes" to be a writer, even if you're doing it for fun.

But maybe you see all those beautifully written but unfinished long fics and mourn that they'll never be finished (for the writer's valid reason or another). And you don't want that to happen to yours.

There is also an advantage to completing long fics: you develop the discipline to write original novels which can take far longer.

So if you're in for the long haul and you want to stay steady and true despite whatever popularity your fic may have, here's how to have the resilience to finish it to the end.

(Disclaimer: this is not a reason to stop commenting on fics)

#1 Whatever You Think You're Owed, Let It Go.

Accidentally quoting Elsa aside, I'm talking about comments. Comments validate and can make you learn new things about your fics through other people's eyes.

But when you see a high-to-low ratio between kudos and comments, you may feel like you are owed.

When you push yourself to complete three long chapters and publish them all in the same day and only get one response, it can feel like people are being mean.

The truth is, we'll never know why the people who loved our fics will not talk to you about them.

Maybe they forget there's a person behind the fic.

Maybe they're having a bad day and just want to shut down after reading something enjoyable.

But whatever the case is, it's beyond your control.

This post said it best (shoutout to @radioactive-earthshine) :

"Remember - hits/likes/kudos/comments are not reflective of the quality of your fic or your ability to write. Most people just don’t comment - even if they say they do, they don’t... Even if your fic brought tears to their eyes and it haunted them for weeks and they printed it out and sent it to their friends they just don’t comment. You just have to accept it.

I'm not saying you force yourself to let it go now. But someday, you will need to let it go, and control what you can which is you.

#2 Put Your Life First Before Your Readers

I have to say this because sometimes writers would have thoughts like "I haven't written for a long time; people must be wondering about it." Nope. Stop. Not worth it.

Creating is fun, but it is also exhausting. Add into the fact that most of us have 8-hour jobs or classes.

The reason you haven't written for a long time is that other aspects of your life deserve your time and energy, too. And after all that, you would be understandably tired.

So put your life first before your readers.

#3 Make Preparations to Replenish Your Soul

Long fanfic writing is energy and time-consuming. But you cannot depend on external validation to make up for it.

External validation in the form of comments can be good because we don't want to imagine it's all in our heads. But seeking it too much leads to what I've read in the book, "Ego is the Enemy":

"If outside validation is your only source of nourishment, you will hunger for the rest of your life."

So before posting a chapter, list down what you can do to replenish your soul after. Treating myself to a cafe one time helped. So is taking walks when the air is cool.

To stop anticipating responses too much, what works for me is to post on Wednesday. Wednesday is when people are less busy. At the same time, when the weekend comes, I don't obsess over it so much and can focus on other aspects of my life or replenish my energy for the next week.

In the commitment to complete a long fic, it's important to be honest with yourself. This is to be transparent with your needs and watch out for any signs of burnout, like feeling sad and tired. If you need to walk away from your fic for a while, then do it.

#3 This is Between You and Your Creation

Yes, fandom should be two-way street. Yes, fandom shouldn't treat fanfics and fan arts like commodity. And yes, there should be interaction and engagement. But before all that, there is this thing between you and your creation first and foremost.

Just as a story has to have a "why", remember why you thought you should write your long fic. Your reason may change over time, but when you remember your "why", you remember your true goal to keep going.

#4 Write like No One is Reading

This is a perk I adapted when I only get two responses if I'm lucky after updating a fic that has more than a hundred subscribers. If people barely react, then you're free to write whatever you please in your story as if you're dancing like no one is watching. Just have fun improving your skills.

This is similar to an inspiring section of the same post that I've found:

"10.) Write for yourself, not for others. Write the fic you know no one is going to read. Write the fic that sounds ridiculous. You will be so happy you put it out in the world and there will be people who will be glad it exists."

#5 Cherish the Rare Friends You Find Along the Way

Sometimes, we get lucky and get something better than a hundred people interacting with our fic -we find a friend we would make in the way of writing the long fic that we dared to write. And they're the ones who would cheer you on and cry and laugh with you about the shared stories. Cherish them.

(dedicated to @lightreader1)

#archive of our own #ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction.net #ao3 fanfic #fic

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radioactive-earthshine · 10 months

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Hi, I know you already addressed a lot of the mischaracterization of Kon and Clark's relationship, but I was under the impression that Kon actually means 'abomination' in Kryptonian, and that Clark giving him that name was a rejection in itself. I am not very well versed in comics, so I apologize if this is just a fanon concept.

Hello!

You're not alone in being misled, as this concept has stretched far and wide and it is a very common theme in fandom works like fanfic.

The concept of Kon-El meaning "abomination" is canon, not fanon, but its source is from the New 52 reboot.

Some fans have in an attempt to create more angst for Kon adopted the concept that Clark gave Kon this name knowing full well what it meant as a way of rejecting him - this is incorrect - and it is blending versions together to make something that just never actually happened with Clark.

There are two versions of Kon getting his name in a main continuity - one in the 1994 comics, and the other in the New 52 Superboy comics.

To best answer your question, I am going to talk about the New 52 version first where "Kon-El" means abomination.

Also, it is important to remember that this Kon-El, isn't even actually Conner Kent (that's another post for another day comics are weird).

Anyway, in the New 52 reboot Superboy is 'called' Kon-El not by Clark, but by Kara!

Superboy v.6 (2011-2014) #6

In this iteration, Kara has some extreme prejudiced bigotry towards "Kon" for being a clone due to the disastrous history Krypton had involving clones. It prompted her to attempt to kill "Kon" the moment she found out he was a clone after more or less calling him a slur.

Superboy v.6 (2011-2014) #6

You can blame Scott Lobdell for this particular evisceration of Kara's character and for the name Kon-El warping into 'abomination' henceforth.

This particular run and story is no longer relevant to main continuity and it is not attached to Conner Kent because this did not happen to Conner Kent, but it did in fact happen and Krypton's disastrous history involving clones is still canon as well. Kon is still facing varying degrees of discrimination from Kryptonian-based ideology (Eradicator) because he is a clone.

Now let's talk about Clark and Kon and where Kon-El first came from and put a stop to the slander.

Where the name "Kon-El" originally came from was from Conner's 1994 solo series where Clark offered it to him from a place of affection.

Superboy (1994) #59

The original moment of Kon obtaining his name from Clark was profound because up until this point he did not have a proper name. He was just "Superboy" or "Kid" or "Pup" (derogatory) so when Clark offers this Kon is so happy he starts crying.

Superboy (1994) #59

At this point in time in comic history Kon-El did not mean abomination, "Kon" was a real Kryptonian name, and in the original run Clark did not even have any resentment towards Kon or negative feelings about his existence at all. He trusted him, felt he was worthy of the S-shield as a representative of hope, and at this point he wanted him to be part of his family.

This is Clark adopting Kon into his family right here in this moment - because Superman is the tale of the immigrant, the refugee and of love in family where blood does not equal family. That is what he is saying right here in this issue.

It is also important to note that at this point Geoff Johns' making Kon a 'clone' of Lex AND Clark is not canon and Kon is not even supposed to be blood related to Clark.

In closing...

Clark's relationship to Kon/Conner Kent in the main comic continuity is not hostile or rejection-based.

In their comic origins they had a nebulous relationship which over time evolved to being firmly brothers with a huge age gap and now in current continuity they are again brothers but with a different perspective.

Action Comics #1028

Current continuity Clark who doesn't remember Kon at all knows him for less than a week and claims him and he is actually distraught he doesn't remember him.

Fandom is transformative and angst/hostility/rejection will always be a major theme people will love to create and consume - but it is also important to recognize that some details are simply not canon and should be regarded as transformative works to tell a story.

I hope this clears some things up from the comics side of DC.

#superfam #kon el #kon-el #conner kent #clark kent #kara #i am so sorry kara for the way scott did you wrong #dc comics #i feel like i am forgetting something else but tumblr ATE half of this post when i was typing it when i tried to erase something

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shalotttower · 4 months

Text

Pholcus phalangioides

Title: Pholcus phalangioides

Fandom: The Collector (2009). Can be read as an original inspired by the source, because I took some creative liberties.

Summary: There's a spider in your bathroom, it lives under the mirror cabinet and you a) don't want to kill it, and b) are too scared to touch it, so now you can either keep giving it one side eye after another, or ask your neighbour for help.

Word count: 4000+

Characters: Asa Emory x Reader

Notes: yandere Asa, spiders and insects descriptions, stalking, voyeurism of sort - Asa watches Reader without her realizing it, kidnapping, vague hinting on body horror, non-con touching, Reader is socially awkward. Asa is not 100% in-movie-character Asa (he actually talks lol), a huge chunk of him is based on my headcanons.

You have this problem - a spider problem, to be precise. Not that it's too big of a deal, but...it also is.

Spiders are generally okay.

They eat unwanted guests, like flies and mosquitos or even other spiders. Make cool webs, which is probably one of the most complicated forms of art, not to mention a mathematical pattern to it - a combination of radial and circular symmetry. The golden ratio in nature.

In general they're important for keeping a backyard ecosystem nice and intact.

But.

But there is a spider in your bathroom, right under the sink cabinet, with thin legs, a long body, and of course - eyes. Quiet, kept to itself, really chill spider who doesn't move much except to crawl around a little and sometimes look at you when it catches you looking.

It probably lived in hiding somewhere, before deciding that dark spaces weren't up to its standards anymore and making an appearance. You haven't swatted it away, caught it, struck it with a paper - mostly because you're not good at killing living creatures, and secondly because the spider isn't doing any harm, just observing your every step, and generally being present.

When you check your makeup bag, it watches. When you brush your teeth, it watches. When you close the cabinet door it wiggles and your heart goes "ee" as if someone shocked it with a static charge. This yellowish-brown witness of your everyday activities, silently approving and judging, lately makes you feel like a nuisance in your own bathroom. You desperately wish there was a way to make it move to another corner. A less centralized one, less straight in your face. Yet the thought of touching it makes you cringe inwardly; your mind conjures images of different scenarios involving spider-related unpleasantries - accidentally squashing it, or getting bitten and dying a slow, miserable death.

It's gotta go.

Because the more you see it, the more your brain tries to assign it human features. And the longer it stares, the bigger the chance it might grow a pair of lips to say "get out of my bathroom".

The thought comes to you in the morning while setting a breakfast plate on the kitchen counter. The house is quiet, all windows are open and you stare through one of them at your neighbour's fence. You rarely see him, though the parked car is always a giveaway of his presence. Emory, that's what the mailbox says, and he has a neat garden, not an extravagant type, but everything is carefully trimmed and arranged into simple patterns.

There's even a stone bench by a small tree. Does it actually get used on sunny days? Probably no. He seems like a loner, from what you've seen so far: tall and pale, with wire-rimmed glasses and still grey eyes. Very focused and put together, a turtleneck and dark trousers kind of Mister. Never waving when passing by, though he does glance sometimes - sharp and attentive.

Once you caught him leaning over a bush with back straight and head hanging low. Your stomach gave this funny, nervous twitch, like when a stranger tries to start a conversation in public. He looked your way and then resumed whatever he was doing.

"Whatever" appeared to be something small, sharp limbs and a shiny body. It looked like a beetle, stretched to an absurd degree, and the way he held that thing felt strangely intimate. The same way you'd cradle a baby animal in your hands, rubbing its forehead with a fingertip. Emory put it in a plastic box, sealed it, and went into his house, not sparing you another glance.

This particular memory - of long fingers and a careful grasp - is what makes you think that maybe, possibly, theoretically, he could handle one pesky spider for you. You've seen him with insects a couple of times after, no doubt Mr. Emory is one of those who glue bugs to display boards. The creepy friend in the bathroom must be right up his alley then.

Five minutes later the two of you are staring at each other in awkward silence. Bothering barely acquainted neighbours isn't usually high on your list of priorities, especially if said neighbours look like they prefer being alone. You know it's odd, you know it probably crosses some boundaries, yet here you are.

With a crease on his brow and a tight mouth, Emory isn't thrilled at this sudden visit. Maybe he was in the middle of something, or is just uncomfortable with people invading his space. In any case, you clear your throat.

"Good morning. I live in the house across the road. The white porch? With-"

"I know," it's a dry reply. Not rude, more matter-of-factly; his eyes are fixed on you with a hint of unsettling peculiarity which makes you shift from one foot to the other.

He's not pest control, you think. Or obligated to help in any way. Emory can tell you to kindly fuck off right now and close the door, why did you even come here? It's stupid and intrusive. You're almost ready to take it all back and go home, pretend like nothing happened and just deal with that spider yourself, when he speaks again.

"What do you need?"

He has a quiet voice, a very even direct tone that doesn't encourage small talk, but prompts answers. Now and without pointless filling.

"I know how it's going to sound," you start, cringing inside, "and apologize in advance for bothering you, but I had an impression you collect...bugs."

"Insects. Arachnids."

"Right. So I was thinking if you'd mind removing a spider from my bathroom. I don't want to kill it, but I can't- I can't touch it."

His gaze slowly shifts from your face to the house behind you. As if Emory has an x-ray vision, or a complete mental map of your household layout. Ha, this would be ridiculous. There's no apparent disapproval in his pale face, but something else, a different kind of assessment. Evaluation of how much it is worth spending time on someone with an overgrown lawn? His eyes return back and you feel pinned down.

The longer he stays silent, the more you wish for the ground to open and swallow you whole.

"If you can't I totally understand-"

"What kind of spider?"

It's your turn to stare. How are you supposed to know, you've never studied spider biology. It looks like any other common variety, except creepier because it refuses to leave its spot and stay in the sewer where it belongs. "I...light-brownish, with long legs. Thin? Slender," there's more you could add but any further description will probably make you sound like a total dunce who can't recognize basic arachnids. "Kind of big."

You expect a 'sure', maybe 'I'll be there shortly' or 'no'. What you get is Emory moving past you and walking up your front porch. The scent of laundry detergent and soap, very clean, hits your nose before you rush to open the door.

"Uhm. Second floor," you explain, awkwardly shuffling after him. For the first time since the day you moved in, you worry about what someone might see inside the house. As far as clutter goes, your place is acceptable, perhaps a few forgotten cups around and yesterday's sweater thrown on a couch. Surely, it's not too bad.

Emory, however, doesn't seem interested in the surroundings. The staircase doesn't even creak under his weight, despite the house being around a century old. He steps over the little border which always makes you trip if you walk too fast, like it's not there. Like the corner you often bump your hip into doesn't exist either. He navigates your home with effortless precision, an inward kind of certainty that makes your eyebrows rise. Maybe...the houses on your street have the same blueprint.

Either way, he walks into your bathroom without hesitation, turning on the light. You hover by the doorway, unsure: should you offer something to drink, ask him if he needs anything else or just step away and leave him to do his thing?

The spider is there, hiding under the cabinet, when Emory leans over to observe it. He's probably seen many different specimens, you think, and this isn't interesting at all compared to the ones who have an intricate design or unique behavior.

"She's a part of the Pholcidae family," Emory says suddenly. Just like that there's 'she', instead of 'it', and the spider twitches and shifts. "Daddy long-legs. Harmless."

He puts his palm up close to its back. At first, it seems startled, but after a moment slowly calms down, and moves a leg - left then right - getting familiar with his hand.

"Docile creatures," Emory continues, while the spider walks along the edge of his palm. No running around, no random leaps, stick-like limbs touch and probe him with curiosity, much like you'd study something new. "They stay in the dark, hide in the corners while feasting on smaller things. Your intruder is a useful tenant."

It makes you feel slightly nauseous, how nonchalant he is about holding something that prompts recoil on instinct.

"Do you want to hold her?" Emory turns to you and there's a faint, strange smile on his lips. It doesn't reach his eyes and makes him look like an alien who tries to mimic human expressions based only on observation. His pupils are so dark that you can barely tell the difference between the irises and the rest. They seem bottomless, absorbing all light, but reflecting none in return. You take one step backwards, shaking your head.

"I'll pass."

He keeps staring at you for what feels like forever before returning his attention to the spider crawling on his skin. Emory reaches into his back pocket for a small container.

"Are you not setting her outside?" You ask. "She...she doesn't look like, uh, a rare species."

Not that you're an expert.

"No," Emory closes the lid with a quiet click. "She isn't one. But I'm going to keep her."

And he does. The little captive spider rests at the very bottom of a plastic case when you send the man on his way and thank him for the help. Emory accepts it with a nod, no further words, and then there's only his back when he leaves. The morning air rushes in, crisp and fresh, smelling like grass, tree leaves and soil.

It feels like you blink, and three days go by. You still keep an eye on the bathroom cabinet by some sort of habit, however there's nothing out of the ordinary lurking there, no creepy critters and definitely no thin legs scattering in multiple directions. All is well, now you can brush your teeth, take care of business and even lean close without fear something might fall on your head.

It's just a spider. You googled it later, and how common it is around the continents should be a bit ridiculous. Keeping it might equal to going on a beach and picking the most unremarkable pebble you see; Emory certainly could find hundreds more Daddy long-legs wherever he pleased - parks, gardens or forests.

So...why?

The question gnaws at you, together with that smile and cold grey eyes hidden behind glasses' frames. The weirdest part wasn't the expression, it was how you couldn't read it. Despite the obvious display of human emotion, however misplaced and alien, it failed to reveal anything. The smile was there, and yet nothing broke through it, not amusement, nor politeness - or any kind of feeling whatsoever.

Your neighbour is odd.

Not necessarily scary, though there's a sense of mystery surrounding him, it makes you feel like standing next to an iceberg and only seeing its tip. Or you've just read far too many psychological thrillers and your imagination likes to conjure up the wildest scenarios, trying to turn each and every thing into something sinister.

Maybe you should just chill and get some tea, and stop being so dramatic about a guy who came over and politely removed a spider for you.

They're not a unique species. Not even remotely uncommon.

He taps the container gently with his index finger, making the spider move back and forth. She doesn't have venom, no poisonous chemicals to injure and kill. Hiding in abandoned corners she does, patient and careful, waiting to catch the wrong fly.

You're just like her. Nothing exciting. Not unique.

Your movement patterns are similar, concealed in a different package you're still predictable: getting home from work, cooking dinner, watching TV shows. Everyday routines.

Fear is a part of your nature. Awkwardness which comes with socializing: you shuffle when uncomfortable, avoid prolonged eye contact and don't like confrontation, he noticed this right away. A quiet type, keeping mostly to yourself unless you need something urgently; and then you rush, like a scared Daddy long legs. There's this shiftiness, an inner desire to be less visible, but also a yearning for recognition because the lack of it hurts. And he saw all those small things, catalogued them one by one, as you moved into his street and became a constant presence.

Asa has never thought about keeping something - someone - so mundane before. Never. He likes rare things, spectacular, and those collected in the basement, they all are, especially when he's finished with them. They're extraordinary, displayed under glass cases and preserved for eternity.

He doesn't collect common species. Daddy long-legs are abundant everywhere around him.

But.

There's the way you linger by the kitchen window during the morning routine, slowly sipping hot coffee. When your lips purse and eyes lose focus for a moment. Or how the corners of them wrinkle sometimes when you have a genuine, amused laugh. It's something like warmth. There's no label for the feeling - positive, negative or neutral, it just is, like one single, meaningless element in an ecosystem.

He shouldn't want someone so average.

And yet Asa watches from the corner of your living room, crouched on the floor by a plant.

You don't hear him, too invested in your personal bubble. Well, he had enough time to polish his craft and figure out how soundless he can be when moving through spaces, how much weight he needs to place onto soles to avoid creaking wood and floorboards.

It's interesting to see you interact with your environment, unaware of being watched. There's an invisible pattern behind each action, even if you think everything is randomized. The web you wove around yourself is cozy, and Asa follows its threads while you check the phone and frown at whatever notification pops up. He is considering. Contemplating this impulsive desire he has yet to identify.

Would it be worth it? Keeping you. Adding you to the collection and seeing what comes out of it, how far his usual approach might take him with you in the same conditions. You're just a face with features. So...ordinary. He wants to pick you apart and look inside to make sure it's not some strange sort of mimicry, camouflage of a different nature hiding something else entirely.

There's this vague idea how those features may feel when touched. He can recall them accurately, even when you've never stood too close. Asa watches quietly from his hiding place, memorizing a displeased mumble and then a frustrated gesture.

You seem so alive.

Those below who are frozen in time now were too, before Asa decided to give them a purpose and make something special and worthy of his attention. They were alive like you, but now they're something better.

What purpose you have remains to be seen.

Asa decides then.

A plain trunk is nestled in the corner behind a coat hanger, no fancy latch or keyhole needed, only an ordinary padlock. You'll fit in nicely, squeezed in the cramped space, it won't be the most comfortable experience, but it's not for long and then...then he can show you the room where others stayed before, and where you'll be next.

Asa looks around one last time: the front door is locked, blinds down, lights off - you get up from the couch and head upstairs, right on the dot. Your house is easy to navigate despite the darkness; Asa knows his way around it, having been here already more than once. A step after a step he follows the soft padding of your bare feet, and when the steps halt, he pulls out a cloth. It's a heavy kind of pleasure to be able to stand right behind and admire your nape, there's a strange sort of vulnerability to it.

Something raw and very exposed.

It takes only a few movements, he catches your yelp into one of his hands and holds it clasped tightly as you thrash. Your nails dig into the fabric of his turtleneck but fail to leave any marks. He's never tired of it, the initial fear of his specimens realizing that their secure habitats are ruined. He doesn't mind this fight for survival.

"Shh," Asa breathes into your ear. "Shh."

The struggle doesn't last long - you're not a fighter - and when your body goes limp, he picks you up. Your perfume is surprisingly light, a very sweet and pleasant aroma, not overwhelming at all like he'd expect it to be.

It's nice.

He puts you in the trunk, a boxy space barely big enough to fit you curled on the side, it's going to take around thirty minutes to reach the hotel and another three to put you in the right cell. You'll sleep the rest of the journey, which is fortunate for everyone. It's always easier to deal with a specimen if they're resting.

The lock clicks softly - it's time to go home.

Something runs down your cheek - a drop, a bead of sweat, a touch - and you blink, trying to make sense of it. The surroundings are unfamiliar, blurry shapes with undefined outlines that stretch and wobble before your eyes. Your jaw hurts, clenched so hard that teeth grind together, and it takes a conscious effort to relax.

Where...what?

The living room, a TV program, a soundless whisper that froze the hairs at your nape, then someone was behind you. You remember a sickly sweet smell, and after that nothing but a haze and the dark, and the sensation of being squeezed into a shape. Your legs feel numb, arms too, like you spent hours immobile in one position. Slowly the world sharpens back into focus, but instead of relief there's only dread.

You're in a room.

No bigger than a regular bathroom and void of any furniture beside a cot-like bed, a toilet in the corner and a sink. The walls are a bluish-gray with thin cracks, tiny fissures that create uneven lines from the ceiling all the way down to the floor.

And there's a man, observing you quietly through the thick glass.

You don't notice him immediately, too busy assessing your new location, and when you do the air feels heavier, difficult to move past your throat. He's wearing a mask. Black rubber or something, covering everything except his eyes. He presses two palms against the barrier separating you, the silence stretches into an eternity.

'Who are you? What do you want?' - these are kind of questions you should be asking, but they don't come out. You remain glued to the spot, counting the passing seconds by their painful tick-tock-tick-tocks. One minute turns into two, and he...just stares without moving a muscle in a beyond unnerving manner. Your gaze dips lower to check his clothes, perhaps find a pattern to identify this person later.

There's none. Everything is plain black, like a uniform made to be invisible - turtleneck, pants, even gloves and boots.

It seems that your silence somehow pleases him, because a few moments later he leaves without looking back.

You don't know how much time passes; there's not a window around, only a bare, stark bulb, yellowish in its brightness and casting unpleasant shadows all over the floor. Not a single sound. Traffic, voices of distant passersby or birds - all is absent and doesn't provide even a bit of understanding where the hell you are.

In the end, you...sit down on the bed and wait, because what else is there? Everything is eerily silent and very, very uncomfortable: this emptiness, the absence of noise, the endless ticking of an invisible clock. It's difficult not to cry, but you try your best, somehow it feels important to remain composed. There has to be a reason behind this. There must be one, and you repeat it over and over, like a mantra to soothe the nerves and present your mind with some semblance of logic: once you figure out what's going on, you'll figure out how to get out as well.

Pulling loose threads from your sleeve is poor entertainment, if anything, the strain of boredom and unease gradually grows into anxiety so sharp that you almost miss the sound of approaching footsteps.

He's back again, the masked stranger who stands in the doorway with hands clasped behind his back. A pair of light grey eyes is a splash of different color, but they are blank. They watch with distant curiosity of an animal trainer monitoring a newborn cub. The comparison makes something ugly squirm inside you. A part of you wants to make a run for it, the other keeps yelling that it would be immensely stupid.

One, two, three, four steps he takes into your cell. Your back meets the wall, the chill coming from its solid surface cuts right through the layers of clothing. Five, six. He stops only when there's less than arm's reach between you, then leans to brush away loose strands of hair sticking to your temples. Your stomach goes taut. This scent. Laundry detergent mixed with soap. The turtleneck, grey eyes, very collected kind of Mister.

A sickly shiver of revulsion shoots down your spine, making you curl tighter into a ball. Emory cups your jaw with both hands - they're cold even through the gloves material. This is too close, an unwanted and unpleasant violation of boundaries, and yet he continues to examine your face, like you're some sort of an object he can handle however he pleases.

Your cheek gets a light pat. Any theories about his identity stay unvoiced, mostly because you fear the reaction they might prompt. Something tells you that screaming is a bad idea too. 'Be quiet,' an insistent whisper says deep inside your skull, 'be still.'

His thumbs press to the corners of your mouth. "Open," he orders, and you can't not, even though the whole thing sounds and feels bizarre. "Wider."

There's a quiet click. A flashlight, of those small ones you can easily hold in one hand, shines right into your eyes, making them water from the unexpected brightness. "Don't bite or I'll remove all of your teeth."

It's a simple threat, delivered with such a calm tone, there's no need for yelling when words are that clear and straightforward.

He inspects your mouth, the edges of teeth and gums, your inner cheeks, and you let him, clenching your fists. There's not much you can do, at least that's what you keep telling yourself to ease the heavy, sinking feeling of powerlessness. Your mind chants 'too close' on a loop, urging to wiggle away; you stay. It's unclear what exactly he's looking for - dental or oral diseases, a sore throat, cavities, or the lack of them?

It lasts forever until he straightens back up and puts the light away.

"Good," Emory states. There's another pat to your head before he turns around to leave. "No biting."

The door panel slides with a soft hum, locking shut. And the silence, and the waiting, and the mind numbing monotony is back again.

#shalott fanfiction #yandere #the collector #the collector (2009)#asa emory #asa emory x reader #slasher fanfiction #slashers

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