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#i hope that this is both incomprehensible to you and intrigues you to read it. fabulous book
cuubism · 10 months
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I’m BEGGING for more “retired!Dream opens up a weird magic fey bookshop” au. Its so intriguing!
you are in luck. i wrote more
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"So," Hob says, leaning in the doorway of Dream's study-of-sorts, "much as I love the recommendations, do you mind if I browse?"
He's taken, recently, to meeting Dream on the upper floor of the shop, bringing coffee and watching Dream label and sort his new books in incomprehensible categories. He usually gets some interesting book facts out of it, too, or strange little stories -- "this book washed up on the Sardinian shore some years ago", "this was signed by a long-dead author, I've been curious to see how long it will take for a collector to find it," "an old man bestowed this upon me on the eve of his death, it's the only copy in existence" and so on -- not to mention the pleasure of Dream's company. He is so odd, and so engaging.
Dream looks up at him now with a tiny smile that crinkles the corner of his eyes. "Of course. Find whatever you wish."
Hob has been wondering if Dream's serendipitous knack with books will extend to browsing, to random finds. Only one way to know.
He leaves Dream to his labeling and goes to wander the shop.
This time, he does get swallowed in Oneiromancy, where he finds Sleeping Worlds, a book about dream travel. Then he wanders deeper into the shop, passes categories like, "Cat Training," CLOCKS, "Mathematics: Easy -> Impossible", and, "♾". Of course he goes into Infinity, and picks up The Birth of Numbers, a book whose text starts in the center of the page and spirals outwards, font growing larger as the book goes on, and in another section called "Romance: DIFFICULT LEVEL" -- whatever the hell difficult means -- he picks up a tiny book that's just one line, one syllable on each page.
I
on
ly
want
ed
you
to
see.
God, Dream's shop is weird.
Dream finds him there some time later, deep in Sleeping Worlds. "I see you've had a productive day."
"Yeah, sorry, lost track of time."
Dream keeps looking at him with a little smirk.
Worry darts through Hob's stomach. "Wait, what time is it?"
"Midnight," says Dream, with satisfaction. "I've absorbed you."
Yeah, no kidding. Hob scrambles to his feet. "Jesus, Dream, sorry. I'll get out of your hair."
"No matter. This is what The Library is for."
Hob goes to hand him the books, and he waves a hand. "Keep them, I will get them back eventually."
Ominous. Great.
"Gonna break into my house and retrieve them?" Hob asks. He probably wouldn't even mind, to be honest.
"Nothing so alarming." He gestures Hob forward, and Hob follows, lets Dream walk him out.
It is, indeed, pitch dark outside on their shared street. Hob's supposed to open the cafe at 6. Whoops.
"Thanks for the books, Dream," he says. "And for. Ten hours of distraction, apparently."
Dream leans in the narrow doorway of his shop. "Of course. Come browse... anytime."
And he melts back into the shadows as Hob steps down onto the street.
--
Hob wonders if he's an idiot for wanting to ask Dream out. Dream is clearly some kind of other thing, and hanging around him did kind of get Hob cursed. But the way he bites his lip when he's making notes in books is so cute. His unerring ability to make perfect book selections is both strange and endearing -- even the books Hob had picked up on his own had been exactly what he hadn't known he was looking for. Hob's heart picks up every time he steps into the cafe.
But if he's to ask out Dream, his own personal weird bookshop creature, he has to do it right.
And he knows how.
The next time Dream comes in for coffee, Hob sits down across from him and hands him a book. Dream looks at it in surprise, and Hob has the sudden thought that as the all-powerful selector of tomes, he probably isn't gifted books himself.
The book is called, Broken Hands. Hob had pulled it off his own shelf. Dream doesn't ask him what it is, instead he flips open the cover and reads, as Hob had hoped he would.
The first page of Broken Hands has the following paragraph:
Kissing her hand, he came to know himself. Kissing her mouth, he came to know them both. When they went onward, for now only in his mind, he kissed more of her, and more, and more, and then, he knew her. He wanted to know her.
Dream reads it, and looks back up at him. Offers a tiny smile. Yes, Hob knew he would get it.
"You have something you would like to ask me, Hob Gadling?" he says softly.
"You have something you want to answer?"
Dream takes a long sip of his coffee, but looks at Hob over the rim of the mug, a smile in his eyes. Then he swipes away the milk foam from his upper lip with his tongue and says, "I'd say that you are very foolish, to still wish to associate with someone who did, in a sense, get you cursed. But that I find myself grateful for this foolishness. People do often come back to the library, once they find it-- but they don't often come back for me."
It makes Hob sad to imagine--Dream the perennial custodian of The Library, shepherd of its patrons, gifting small touches of coincidence and magic, but always in the background, a bridge and not a destination. Meanwhile, Hob likes the strange books, but it's Dream he keeps wanting to hover around, to lure back into his own space.
He dares to take Dream's hand and squeezes. "...So?"
"I'd say that I'd like to get coffee with you, if you know a place."
Cheeky thing. "Yeah, there's a Starbucks a couple blocks down," Hob says, gesturing, and Dream chuckles. Hob's still holding his hand, and brings it to his lips for a light kiss, and gets to watch as Dream's cheeks tint pink. His heart lifts in his chest. So easy and light.
"You're gorgeous," he says, and that blush deepens. "I'd suffer even Starbucks for you."
"You would suffer much, then," says Dream.
"We'll get our Starbucks and wander around WHSmith and have a fabulous date," Hob says, and Dream's face goes through the most exquisite journey of horror.
"You demand too much," he says, faint. "You enjoy my suffering."
"Little bit, yeah." Hob's certainly enjoying the reaction.
Then Dream looks at him in challenge. "Very well," he declares. "You've set the date. Now you must follow through."
Hob can't even spare a thought to the distasteful activities he's now gotten himself into--he has a date with Dream. "So that's a yes?"
Dream smiles again, a tiny, pleased thing. "It is a yes, Hob Gadling."
--
They do go to Starbucks. Hob is treated to the glorious sight of Dream sipping a pink drink out of a long straw, which is so worth dealing with the coffee. Then he indeed drags Dream to WHSmith, where Dream stands in the middle of the brightly-lit store, spins in a circle staring at carefully lined book displays with wide eyes, says, "Hell would be more merciful," and bolts away. Hob follows him, laughing.
Outside, he finds Dream leaning in the shade of a tree, looking vaguely shell-shocked. Hob really shouldn't keep laughing at him, but he can't help it. "Were you traumatized permanently by the big chain store?"
"Yes," says Dream, but, despite the perilous adventure, smiles. "You are a cruel man, Hob Gadling."
"Nah. Just harnessed the fluorescent lighting to chase you back into the safety of my arms."
"Oh?" Dream pushes off the tree and steps closer, until he's standing just before Hob, close enough to touch. "Was that the goal?"
Hob takes the leap that's offered and touches Dream's cheek with a light hand. "Did it work?"
This close, in the midday light, Dream's eyes are almost grey. The shade of the tree dapples his skin. It's still odd to see him out of the contained space of his bookshop, of Hob's cafe, but it does make this feel more real. A part of the world beyond the spun-sugar story of their orbiting binary stars.
Dream rests a feather light hand on Hob's chest. Studies Hob from under his eyelashes. And instead of answering, he leans up and, with that same light touch, presses his lips to Hob's.
Hob revels in the mere touch of him for a moment, but doesn't let it stand at light for long. He takes Dream's face between his hands and deepens the kiss, sweeping his tongue into Dream's mouth, swallowing Dream's hum of pleasure. If only he could put into the kiss what he had felt when Dream had handed him Nightingales. A sudden finding of something long lost that was always meant to be rooted in his heart.
When they part, he makes good on a promise and does pull Dream into his arms. It feels like a great indulgence. It also feels right.
"Make me a solemn promise, Hob Gadling," Dream says against Hob's cheek, arms wrapped around his back.
"Anything."
"Never take me here ever again."
Hob laughs into his hair, squeezing him tight. "What could one possibly want from here when The Library exists?"
This seems to greatly gratify Dream, who preens in Hob's arms. Hob kisses the shell of his ear, then his cheek, then they part again, and he takes Dream's hand. "I'm glad you expanded your horizons with me for a day."
"And now I will shrink them again," says Dream. "Except for one." To which he runs his thumb along Hob's lower lip, a touch Hob sways forward to follow almost drunkenly as Dream smirks. "Come."
He starts leading Hob back in the direction of their quiet street, and far far away from any fluorescent lighting, and Hob follows, touching his lips fondly. And lets himself be cautiously, tentatively hopeful that this will continue spiraling up into something real, because he wants it so bad. Curses and all.
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xelasrecords · 1 year
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In the Dead of Night, You Bring Me Back Alive
Han Jumin x Reader
What if you're not insecure about attending the high society parties that being in Jumin's life entails? What if instead of floundering at a public event and waiting for a rich man to rescue you, you could stand on your own?
Featuring an after-party scene where you and Jumin share quiet meandering conversations and find peace in them. Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.
Words: 3.8k
Masterlist Read on AO3
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Your words always wielded power. It was one of the reasons Jumin was intrigued by you. While he was a figure who commanded respect through his presence and status, you were someone with an air of quiet confidence. It was the kind of subtlety that people tended to overlook, but impossible to unsee once they saw it. Jumin might stand tall in front of everyone, his confidence formidable and magnetic, compelling the whole room to focus their attention on him, but one word from you would bring him to his knees.
Not that he minded.
He knew what kind of hold you had over him and would give in to you without a second thought. You were the person he loved. You were the person he admired. You were the person who knew the exact things to say to stimulate both the intellectual and sentimental parts of his brain that no other person could, except for Jihyun. If it weren't for social constructs, Jumin would gladly roll out a red carpet wherever you went and worship the ground you walked on.
Elizabeth the 3rd was treated like a princess. You, a human whom he cherished above all the fortune he possessed, should receive a treatment fit for a queen. Racking his brain for more things to give and do for you was his daily routine.
Tonight, both of you were inebriated from the numerous glasses of alcohol—champagne for you, wine for him—swiped from the corporate gala tonight, you considerably more so than him. With your red heels strewn out on the polished marble floor, the strap lacing trailing behind and stray confetti stuck on the sole of the right stiletto, you left them as they were while you slumped against the side of the white sofa. It had been a long night, and the back of your feet was throbbing. Elizabeth the 3rd was nowhere to be seen, but she was most likely asleep in her bed of posh design and hand-carved frame.
Jumin had crashed on the floor alongside you when your knees buckled from exhaustion. You had entered the penthouse together, his arm around your waist, steadying you as you snickered at things incomprehensible to anyone but you. You waved languidly at the bodyguard posted outside the door while Jumin gave him a brisk nod.
How the bodyguard didn't appear weary at this ungodly hour was beyond you. You grinned at him and threw a hearty good night! before you went in. If there was anything you knew from being with Jumin, it was that everyone could use a little bit of kindness. The irony of maintaining a stoic, emotionless mask was more taxing than living freely was not lost on you.
In your drunken haze, you registered that Jumin had put away his dress shoes and transferred your clutch onto the glass coffee table, a preventive measure to keep you from tripping over them. It wouldn't be the first time you made a fool out of yourself by having poor muscle coordination. The mistakes just had never been made public and you intended to keep it that way. For Jumin, he only wished to keep you from sustaining more injuries.
During the gala, Jumin had noticed the raw chafed skin on your ankles when you made rounds and exchanged amicable banter with the people you had learned only hours before, courtesy of the guest list Jaehee had put together. However impressed Jumin was with you, he couldn't stay still after catching glimpses of you wincing when you thought nobody was watching. Immediately, he requested Driver Kim to retrieve a medical kit.
But despite the pain you were enduring, you glimmered. Your gold sequin dress swirled around your figure as you conversed with other guests, making polite enquiries and occasionally tilting your head back in laughter when the topic entertained you. You had the talent of making your conversation partner felt important and welcomed, like everything they said was interesting and worth your time. You were an attentive listener and an even more suave speaker.
Jumin knew this easy-going character was a front you put up to support him. Although he had reminded you that you needn't play the part of a charmer to boost his image and win him more contracts, you couldn't be dissuaded. The last things you wanted were to stumble and fail spectacularly in front of a respected crowd and tarnish Jumin's reputation. If Jumin had done this his whole life, the least you could do was to understand his ways of survival.
Besides, there was a part of you that found this amusing. It was new and different, and you always welcomed a challenge. And who was to say this was not the real you? You were an amalgamation of everything you wanted to do and everything you had done, and this was one of them. As much of a charade as it was, it was also moulding your personality into something with more depth and complexity. Truthfully, you were tired of always being the same person you were before you met Jumin. You needed a change.
Even if you were not yet as well-versed as Jumin, you were determined to carry yourself with elegance and your head held high. The two of you were a sight to behold. He possessed an assertive demeanour that led him from one person to another with definitive strides, while you lured people in with the unique flair that belonged to you alone. Together, you were a force impossible to break. Everyone knew you had each other's back without making an ostentatious display about it. No one would dare to touch you.
Albeit you had spent the evening largely separated from Jumin, there were times when you would search for the one familiar face in the room that you loved, only to find him already looking at you. Stealing glances amidst the faceless crowd was a game you liked to play. Whenever he caught your eyes, his stern expression would soften, a soft, genuine smile that was exclusive to you would grace his lips, and his shoulders would lose their tension.
A few seconds would pass before he assumed the original stance with his conversation partner. But during that short time, the faces around you would blur and the mindless prattle would fade into the background. It felt as if you and Jumin had entered a peaceful bubble invisible to outsiders, and you could finally breathe. Even when you were not physically attached to his side, Jumin had brought you all that was safe and sound. That few seconds were all you needed to power through the evening. You knew it was also the case for Jumin.
Beneath the opulent crystal chandelier and melodious tune of live jazz, you weren't nervous about navigating the crowd alone. Although you were not the most outgoing person alive—it was exhausting to speak after dabbling in small talks with five people—you were glad that Jumin trusted you enough to handle your part alone. In the beginning, he used to fuss over every little thing, worrying that attending these parties would bring discomfort to you. He reassured you that if you ever needed help, you could signal him and he would come right by your side.
Of course, you knew he would stay true to his word, but you wanted to be capable. If you had to live in this corporate world that Jumin had introduced you to, you would have to adapt and hone your skills. You didn't want to hide behind his protection. Yes, it would be easier if you simply passed all the problems to Jumin and let him handle them, but you also loved yourself, and that meant fortifying yourself enough so that you could hold your own in the face of the public.
Jumin adored the fire in you.
Once he realised you were never going to relent, he offered personal tips and helped you practice as you eased into his world, all of which you gratefully received and implemented. It was unrealistic to sit back and hope for the best when it was only a matter of time before the media criticised you for being a gold digger disguised as an unfortunate damsel. Malicious rumours had begun to circulate the moment your dating news was made public, and it would continue to escalate unless you did something. You had to take control of the narrative before they could define you.
At the present moment, the ghost of the raucous chatter fell away as you felt Jumin's cold fingers wrapped around your ankle and carefully rested it on his crossed legs. "Don't move, darling," he chided. "Your feet are bleeding. Allow me to clean your wounds."
The penthouse was quiet and you were safe. You could let down your shield now.
The only light switched on was in the hallway by the front door. It poured into the living room, its yellow gleam illuminated Jumin's concerned face. The sight of him in his three-piece formal suit while gently dabbing rubbing alcohol on your injury was a pleasant thing to see. Even after a long night, he still looked put together, not a hair out of place.
You didn’t even complain about those heels during the ride home, yet he noticed. You felt love, so much love. "I feel like I am consumed by love. It's like love is coursing through my veins and exploding with fireworks inside." You let out a worn-out giggle. "If you cut me open and study my organs, I bet you could see how much I love you. I bet there would be a whole fiesta going on in my bloodstream and muscle tissues."
Jumin gave you an amused look before plastering a bandage on your ankle. "I do not have to witness you spilling your internal organs to feel your love." He put down your leg and lifted the other onto his lap. "The things you say, truly."
You relished in his tender touch, feeling its cold against your warm skin, running from your exposed calf up to your thigh where the slit of your dress fell off, a golden rumpled sea of glitter around you. "But imagine tiny cells wearing party hats running around inside me. How absurd!"
"Now, where did you get this idea from?"
"The tiny cells just announced it with trumpets and drums in my brain."
"God." Jumin shook his head, but not without good humour.
"Am I scaring you away? Do you fear my"—you let out a dramatic gasp—"unbidden thoughts?"
"I fear for the people who mean you harm. You, however, are still as mesmerising as ever," he said, his striking grey eyes studying your face. "You were captivating tonight. I had to fight off the physical urge to make you the sole focus of my attention. It is so easy to forget about everyone else when you are there." Jumin had finished bandaging your left foot and placed both your legs on top of his, running his fingers up and down across yours.
Shivers crawled up your spine. "So were you. You have the same effect on me."
"You were the highlight of the party. Have you any idea how many compliments I received on how seamlessly you fit into this society? People had been waiting for your downfall, but you put yourself above everyone instead." Jumin smiled at you. "And you didn't even have to try."
"What can I say? I'm a natural charmer."
"And very humble too."
You closed your eyes, a wan smile painted on your lips. The alcohol was catching up to you, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. "No, actually, it was the opposite. I tried very hard." You sighed. "I wasn't always this polished before I took your advice."
"I must be frank with you. I don't think you need all those extra lessons. You have always been excellent at being yourself." You weren't looking at him, but his voice alone spoke of total adoration.
You had never been on the receiving end of such affection. How fortunate you were to cross paths with him, to be loved by him. He had never given you any reason to doubt him and had always treated you well from the moment you met. You were not a believer in fate, but you believed in him.
You flailed your arms at him, motioning him to sit beside you. You yearned to feel the warmth from his body. "How about you? How well do you think you are at being Han Jumin?"
He put your legs down and obliged, shifting to your side, your shoulders nudging each other. There was a stretched silence as he pondered your question. You rested your chin on your tucked knees and gazed up at him.
"There are two Han Jumins in the world—or are there three? The first one is what I present to the public. The second is a mixture of the dutiful son and the loyal friend. The third one is the man I am with you."
The wine must have also brought out the pensive side of him. You had half-expected him to bludgeon your question with his usual brand of self-assurance, listing out his achievements and strengths. You preferred this vulnerable honesty, however rare it was, over the stoic image he put on in front of people.
"I like all versions of you," you said, offering him your own honesty.
"It's unfortunate that I have to create multiple personas to meet everyone's expectations." Jumin craned his neck down to look at you. "There are times I fear that I might lose myself if I play a certain part for too long, but this fear is a paradox in itself."
"A paradox?"
"Which persona is my true self? Have I split myself into too many pieces that they've become indiscernible? If I can't tell which piece is real, then who am I masquerading as this whole time?" He took a deep breath. "Who am I, if I couldn't be put back together?"
"This vulnerable Jumin seems pretty real and whole to me." You took his hand into yours, massaging his palm. "But don't you think it's normal to don multiple masks to survive? I'm not saying we have to be fake, but that's how humans navigate life."
"I'm afraid I don't understand what you're getting at."
"See, I am more reserved and polite in front of strangers. I'm careful not to offend people and filter which things to say. But with the RFA, I can be more relaxed and let go of myself. And with you, well, I have no qualms about saying anything that comes to my mind."
"I can attest to that." Jumin chuckled. "But if politeness is a charade, then can we really be genuine in treating people?" You cocked your head to one side. "You may recall that I am trying to be more considerate with my employees."
You scoffed. "I am positively drunk, Jumin. My memory is impaired." You knocked on your temple in quick succession with your knuckle and yelped. Your head instantly felt heavy and your vision spun.
At no time, Jumin was already checking and caressing your head. "Be careful, love. Are you all right?"
You waved it away. "It will pass." You let him continue to card his fingers through your hair. It was therapeutic; every touch from him was. Recalling his musing earlier, you shared your thought, "Even if the act of being polite is a faux gesture—which I don't think it is—doesn't the feelings of the receiving party matter more?"
"Do elaborate."
"When you're polite to someone, you extend your respect to them. You treat them like a decent human being. It feels good to be treated well, you know." Lowering his hand from your head, you slung his arm around your shoulders and leaned against him. "I know you are indifferent towards niceties because people tend to only be nice to you out of fear or greed, but please hear me out before you debate me on this."
"I am listening to you." Jumin rubbed your arm, giving you a reassuring squeeze. "My experience doesn't cancel out yours, and I'm interested in what you want to say."
You rested your head against his chest, vertigo already subsiding. "I remember when a salesperson tended to me with patience and smiles even when I asked a lot of questions. I felt sorry for that, but it made my experience better than if I had to face a rude person who looks down at me for my ignorance."
"And that improved your feelings."
"You know how when you're having a bad day, everything becomes a chore?" You tucked in a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Standing underneath the shower is tiring. Making your bed is almost impossible. Talking with people at work makes you feel like you're drowning further in the mess that is you. Nothing can be smoothed out. Everything is creased."
"I have my maid to tidy up my bed, but I understand the sentiment," Jumin said in all seriousness.
"Well, I was having a bad day, but those three minutes of friendly exchange, even when they were out of obligation, had lifted my mood for three minutes. I had this thought, 'Ah, that wasn't too bad. Maybe I shouldn't shun this life just yet.' Then, my day became a little more bearable."
Jumin placed a kiss on your forehead and murmured, "I would like to meet this person and thank them."
"It was a long time ago, so I can't remember who it was. I remember how it made me feel though, so I reckon politeness has more worth than being a superficial act."
Jumin squeezed your hand three times. You had shown him an article about the gesture, informing him that it meant I love you. Since then, the two of you had made it into a habit to do so. "Your observations never cease to amaze me. I love this about you." He was also in the habit of proclaiming his love for you every now and then. "You bring your thoughtfulness wherever you go, that even if you wear thousands of masks, you wouldn't be in danger of losing yourself."
"I didn't know that's how you see me."
"It is. You are so grounded in you that it unnerves me to realise what it says about me."
"What does it say about you?" you asked softly.
"That I am not as connected to myself as I had thought." From the way you were practically lying on him, you could feel his chest rise and fall. "I know who I am. I know my likes and dislikes, my strengths and weaknesses. But knowing things aren't the same as owning them."
"Because they don't feel like they are part of you?"
"I don't know if they are true to my character. I slip on new faces quite easily," Jumin went on. "You know how I used to deal with contracts."
You remembered what Jaehee said aeons ago when you just joined the association. Jumin was a businessman who used his good looks to hook potential business partners into signing contracts with him, especially women who clambered onto him without the slightest shred of dignity, only to quit cold turkey on them once the contract was over.
It wasn't the most morally correct thing to do, but you also thought it was an apt response to people who merely wanted to take advantage of his wealth. "It's a necessity for you. If you have the leverage, why not use it?"
"You seem to contradict yourself," Jumin said. "This competitive edge had left many women heartbroken, as I recall."
"Maybe I just feel inclined to defend you and put your happiness first." You shrugged. "And once again, I am drunk."
"You are running out of chances to use the drunk card."
You hummed while tracing the buttons on his white dress shirt. "How many chances do I have left?"
"One."
At this, you straightened up and swivelled your body to face him. "What kind of rule is that?"
"My rule. I can do anything I want if it contributes to my happiness, as you very kindly declared." Jumin smirked.
Your brain was too muddled to come up with a counter-argument, so you merely huffed and sat back in silence. Jumin picked up the skirt of your dress that had bunched up between you two, rolling the sequins from one finger to another. The only sound wafting through this nearly dark penthouse was the crinkle of the gold coins embedded on your dress.
You wished every night was like this. Being together in peace, talking about things you would barely remember the next day. The dim yellow light cast long shadows beneath the outline of your figures, and you knew that this moment would stay forever bursting technicolour in your mind.
"You're judging yourself too harshly," you said after a while. "You just started discovering your emotions and learning how to dissect these layers that you had long buried. It's not fair to yourself if you expect an immediate result by using my progress as your benchmark. Not when I've been in touch with my inner self for longer than you have."
"Except I'm usually a fast learner."
"Usually." You bumped his leg with your toes. "It's about time you're not the best at something."
To your surprise, Jumin laughed at your statement. It was a crisp, freeing laugh that you had never heard before. You jumped at the sound, but it only made him laugh harder. His voice sent tremors down the hollow of your bones. Then suddenly, you also cackled, imagining all the bones in your body quivering because of him. What a ridiculous thought! But how funny!
Soon enough, none of you could stop the fits of laughter. You, doubling over with a hand on your stomach, the curtain of your hair streaking over your already blurred eyesight. Jumin, shoulders shaking from trying and failing to stop, one arm rounding your body, the other straightened out, hand clenching at his thigh.
Nothing made sense, but nothing had to.
Years later, after you and Jumin had moved out of the penthouse for a place that you owned together, this was what you would remember: in the dead of night, two souls were alive with giddy lightness, as bubbly as the champagne you had downed, as intimate as the mutual understanding you had shared. In your long span of life to come, this was the memory you liked to come back to. This one evening with him might be brief, but it made your life more bearable.
That was the only thing that mattered.
-
Buy me a glass of something that's definitely not coffee because I can't stand it but it is the website's name if my story touches you in some way? No worries if you don't. I'm still grateful you've read all the way through here.
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There's a certain intrigue in just observing people.
Every now and then I'm struck by the fact that there are human beings, other than myself, living their own little lives, with their own worries, their own responsibilities, doing their silly little tasks, their weird habits, their own peculiar interests and fascinating hobbies.
Whenever it strikes me, i can't help myself from looking out the window, be it out of a bus, a car or out of my apartment, and just observing.
I might look at the vegetable stall aunty, carefully arranging her vibrant produce. Or the mom of two dragging her toddlers along to the bus stop, carrying their cute water bottles while she wrestles the boy's arm away from his sister's face. Or the cranky taxi driver blaring his horn at the old man parked in front of him, who was only a few seconds slow to shift into gear as the signal lit up green.
It occurs to me that they too are living. I get so caught up with my life that i forget.
Being reminded of this, every time, every single time, I question the basic function of life. Or more specifically consciousness. How do chemicals and electrical signals translate to something intangible and incomprehensible.
The science of the body is mostly understood and well studied. In contrast, the science of the mind although just as well studied, is not always concrete in all its various specificities.
How much of a consciousness does an amoeba have compared to a caterpillar? Is the conscious even measurable? Or what counts as consciousness, is it freedom from being driven purely by biological instincts? I hope to find my own answers to these...
I fear I've strayed a little ways off from my initial thoughts. Thinking more on it, it occurs to me that most of what I've done is for other people, and yet i keep forgetting that they live a life both separate and interwoven with mine. Even this moderately long post, it's for all the silly, the intricate, the stressful, the lonely, and the loveable lives lived by whoever happens to read it.
That's it. Thank you for reading all of... THIS.
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karatam · 1 year
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Read recently (Dec '22 - early Feb '23)
Nevernight by Jay Kristoff. A fun, rollicking, and rather dark story of a girl bent on revenge. She is admitted into a training academy for the deadliest assassins in the world, determined to be the best and become someone who is able to get her vengeance against those who wronged her. But there's something else happening at the academy, and the politics of the world are shifting, and magic is everywhere. Waiting on the sequels from the library.
Her Majesty's Royal Coven by Juno Dawson. A very interesting premise, where witches and warlocks are real and they serve the government as a secret coven. But I found the book didn't quite live up to its promise, the characters felt wooden and a tad stereotypical at times. There was one character I quite liked, but telling you literally anything about them would spoil most of the book lol.
The Tiger Flu by Larissa Lao. In a strange post-apocalypic world, two girls from very different beginnings, uh, do stuff in incomprehensible plotlines? I genuinely have no idea how I feel about this book. Weird as hell, every character is utterly baffling in their actions and motivations, and yet somehow it's also compelling and I finished it in like two days.
The Book Eaters by Sunyi Dean. There exists a set of ancient Families that are basically vampires, but instead of drinking blood, they eat books and the human imagination and knowledge they contain. And one member of those Families is on the run, because her son is a rare exception, in that he needs to eat directly from the source: the human mind. There is a type of cure out there, but she needs to get to it before she's found. Interesting book, intriguing world-building, slightly abrupt ending, but there's something nice about a book meant to be a one-and-done.
The Three-Body Problem by Cixin Liu. This should be right up my alley: aliens, government conspiracies, physics problems, mystery, etc. And yet, I hated it. Every character was the driest, most robotic character I've ever read, none of their motivations made any sense and they all talked like weird little exposition machines. The explanations just went on and on and I dragged my way through, hoping it would get better, but alas. I've been told the second book is better, but I shall not.
The Shadow and Bone Trilogy (Shadow and Bone, Siege and Storm, Ruin and Rising) by Leigh Bardugo. A fun and competent YA series. Set in a fantasy world, there are people with semi-magical powers, named Grisha, who serve in the army of Ravka under the leadership of the Darkling (if you cannot guess from the name, he's the bad guy). Alina is discovered to be a Sun Summoner, who might be the answer to all Ravka's prayers. If you've seen the netflix show, know that Alina's storylines are very faithfully adapted from the first book. I liked Alina, I liked a bunch of secondary characters like Genya and Nikolai and Zoya and Harshaw and David. I did not like Mal and the Darkling, they were both just sad trombone noises in the shape of men to me, which makes a lot of this series drag for me personally. I'm intrigued as to how the future seasons of the show adapt the later books.
Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo. I'm just going through her bibliography apparently. Set in the same universe as S&B, just a few years later, this is about a heist done by the Crows, full of mystery and crime and intrigue and betrayal. I loved this one. The author's writing has really evolved since the S&B series, and every character is much more interesting and multi-dimensional as a result. I would die for Nina and Inej, to no one's surprise.
Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo. Picks up right where Six of Crows left off. Our charming group of criminals land themselves in an even bigger disaster, and have to charm, plan, shoot, stab, and magic their way out. The heist planning is a tiiiny bit less interesting than in SoC, but now I'm so fond of all the characters that I didn't mind at all, and the character development in this book is wonderful. What a fun duology, looking forward to more.
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euryd-ce · 2 years
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hello ^^ first i just wanted to say im a big fan of your work! your writing is very captivating and smooth to read if that makes sense ;; if your requests are open, may i ask for a firefly doc x reader? if you closed requests or dont write her then im terribly sorry for that! please ignore this ask if that is the case,,, anyways, i hope you have a nice day and i apologize if this bothered you!!
❁ LA VIE EN ROSE
PAIRING: Firefly! Emily Dyer x GN! Reader
CW: None
NOTE: (Not Proofread)
Unfortunately, I hadn't started playing IDV when they had their First Anniversary, and I haven't been able to find detailed lore of it out there despite the wiki saying that it exists. That being said, I hope you're alright with a modern AU 🙏
Soulmate AU: your world is black and white until your soulmate directly confesses to you
Inaccurate portrayals? A lot of them, probably.
Lastly: Thank you for the little message, it means a lot to me and it honestly made my day when I first read it (人 •͈ᴗ•͈)
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Meeting one's soulmate was always something to look forward to in one's lifetime. Others often spoke of meeting their other half during their high school years, some even as early as one's childhood. As for you? You'd long gotten used to the monochrome world of black and white.
Not in a bad way, of course.
You liked to think of yourself as patiently optimistic. Not so pessimistic as to assume that you'd been struck with the worst of luck, that you were born to be alone and to live alone for eternity. Yet not too anticipative as to eagerly expect that every person you talk to could possibly be the 'one'. After all, your job as a waitron in the Oletus café did entail a lot of talking—and a lot of people, for that matter.
The little bells from the entrance of the café rung, signalling the arrival of another customer. When you had turned around, your eyes locked with those of a rather stunning woman's. For a moment, you wished that you could see what color they were. Surely, whatever it was, they'd be as captivating as its owner's.
Setting the quick burst of emotions aside, you gave the woman a polite smile before your coworker, Mike, ushered her to an empty seat and gave her a menu.
When Mike returned, his face held a little grin with a touch of pleasant familiarity. "Whew, it's been a while since she's last been here."
"Oh?" You tilted your head, turning toward the man's direction in curiosity. "Do you happen to know her?"
He raised a brow and looked as if you'd told him an incomprehensible secret. "And you don't?!"
You glanced at the woman, who had still been carefully (and gracefully, if you may add) examining the café menu. "No- I mean, I don't think so?" You shrugged while leaning against the wall.
"She's-"
Mike was interrupted as soon as he spoke when both of you saw the woman raise her hand. "That's my cue. Let's continue this later."
"Good afternoon!" You greeted her. "What will a lovely lady like you have for today?" You asked with your usual polite and mildly flattering choice of words, readying your little notepad with a little 'click' coming from your pen.
"I'll have a caramel macchiato," she replied and set down the menu, letting her head rest on one of her hands. "How about you?"
Her last statement caught you off-guard, so you looked at her with a brow raised in confusion while still maintaining a polite (albeit, subtly awkward) smile.
"Pardon?"
She laughed, as if she'd already anticipated the way you'd react. "The café doesn't look too busy right now. I'm sure Demi won't mind."
"That I won't." You heard Demi say from the counter with her naturally smug grin and her arms crossed. "Long time no see, Emily, or should I say Miss Firefly?" she teased.
"Oh? You know the boss?" You asked, now even more intrigued about this woman. "Actually, hold that thought. Let me just-"
"No no—stay where you are. Why don't you relax for a bit, (Name). I'll take care of it." Demi cut you off as she leaned over the counter.
The woman who you now knew was named Emily gave a slight nod in thanks, before looking back at you and gesturing for you to have a seat. "Go on, you heard the woman." She chuckled.
"And to answer your question—yes, yes I do know her. We were classmates back in college, and she'd bicker nonstop about one day opening her own café and bar." She explained. "I'd always tell her about how I'd be a regular if ever she'd open one and, well, I did, but this month's been quite busy..."
You hummed in response, and suddenly thought about the way Mike reacted when you said you didn't know who she was, but you weren't quite sure if you were on the same wavelength as him at that moment.
It was either she was quite the icon (which you wouldn't be surprised about, given that you were always told that you lived under a rock) or that she just happened to be one of those regulars that grow to become a part of your little café family. Between the two, you were starting to lean on the former as Mike seemed to have a face that screamed starstruck.
"Sorry if this may come of as... intrusive, but if I may ask, what do you do?" You asked.
She seemed to be taken aback, not offended, but simply surprised. "Well, I'm sure it won't hurt to tell you here, but I'm an artist—a performer, specifically, or in more casual terms: I'm a singer."
"Really? That sounds wonderful!" You said in awe. "How long has it been? Since you started, I mean."
Emily took a sip from her drink, which arrived without you knowing somehow. "I wouldn't say too long, actually, but it's been around three years."
"And you'd think that with several fans, left and right, constantly hollering about their love for me, I'd start seeing the colorful world everyone's been dreaming about, but... surprisingly, it's always been the same black and white hues." She said, wistfully, before apologizing for changing the mood.
It was your turn to be surprised. If anything, you had the exact same assumption, but who would know the time would eventually come where you were proven wrong. Perhaps even the brightest of stars would have to endure the longest of times waiting for their other half to come through, before they can finally enjoy the wonders of a world painted in various shades and colors.
"Well, I'm surely not in the place to tell you this," you started, in a rather sheepish manner. "But you'll find them, or they'll find you, eventually. Some of us just have to wait a little longer, or perhaps be a little bolder than others. And besides, fate surely can't be that cruel to us. can it?"
"And if it can be, then I guess my destiny is to throw hands with fate." You joked, successfully cheering Emily up and causing her to laugh; however, her joy seemed to be cut short as she received a phone call that was rather urgent.
"Sorry... My manager needs me to be somewhere right now." She sighed. "But it was wonderful talking to you, (Nickname), if I can call you that hehe."
"Of course," you said, dragging out the last word before properly bidding her goodbye.
From behind, you heard the familiar whistling of Mike. His eyes darted toward the tissue Emily had left by her coffee cup and a smirk adorned his face upon realizing what was on it—her number.
"Damn... You seemed to hit it off pretty well!" He playfully slapped your shoulder and laughed. "Keep up the good work!"
"Pfft- Shut up"
The next couple of days, and eventually months, Emily would visit the cafe at the exact same time as she did the first time you'd seen her—it had also been the least busiest of hours, surprisingly.
Spending your conveniently timed breaks (thanks to your oh-so grateful and caring boss) talking to the woman had become one of your favorite parts of your daily routine. And while you'd occasionally worry about running out of things to say to her, she somehow always had a jar of secrets or interesting topics to bring up.
While you were cleaning up after a few customers that had just left the cafe, you felt the buzz of your phone notify you of a message. Unsurprisingly, it was from Emily, who told, or well, texted, you.
"I'll be a little late, but I got a little something for you :)"
Several minutes later, the woman of the hour had arrived with a cute coffee cup plushie in hand. She looked around until she caught sight of you and excitedly approached you. "Here, it reminded me of you." She chuckled.
"Really now?" You graciously accepted her gift. "And what name did you give this little guy?"
"Well... I did call it (Nickname) as I made my way over here..." She looked somewhere else, smiling and putting her two index fingers together.
"Why, thank you—I'm honored." You said with a little exaggeration and a hand on your chest. "But also goodness gracious have a seat. Will you have the usual?"
"Of course"
When you returned, Emily was happily humming whilst smiling and tapping on the table in a complementary rhythm.
"You're rather giddy today. Did something happen?" You asked, noticing the extra bit of energy she brought along.
She pressed her hands together before resting her chin on both of them. "Oh it's nothing, really. I'm pretty sure it was just me getting a good night's rest. Other than that, still no sign of 'the one' hehe."
You nodded in understanding and took a seat right in front of her.
"This might sound strange, but do you have a favorite color?" She asked.
You found the question a little more silly than strange, but nevertheless came up with a little joke. "Well, for starters, my choices are pretty limited. Let's see... black, white, grey, and- oh did I mention grey?"
"You silly dork." Emily flicked your nose. "I guess I should have elaborated. Has anyone ever described what colors looked like to you?"
You shook your head. "Not really, as far as I remember... How about you?"
"No one has either, but I have my own impressions on them based on what I've heard and what I've read." She took a sip from her cup. "Is there one you'd like to hear about?"
"Why don't we start with blue?"
"Blue..." She stirred her coffee in thought. "It's definitely not warm in the way one would describe red. It's cold, but not as much as the endless void of black we've become accustomed to. I'd say it's more cool, if anything. The gentle kind of cool you'd want to feel moments before you fall asleep. It's the color of the sky, the tranquil sound of still waters, and the feeling of pensive sadness or melancholy."
"Seems that you have quite a lot to say. Now I'm curious about what you have to say about the color pink." You chuckled with a tilted head and a hand on your chin.
"Hm? Any particular reason why?"
You gestured toward the painting on the wall—it was a vase of roses, presumably in a dark room with a window judging by the shapes the lighter paint had created.
"One of Edgar's paintings. He didn't like it very much; however, Demi did quite more than he could ever imagine, so he gave it to her, begrudgingly. And though he never gave it a name, Demi's always called it 'Things in Pink'."
"Things in Pink? That sounds awfully familiar... and awfully Demi to be honest." she joked.
"I heard that!" Demi yelled from her office.
"You might know the song? La Vie en Rose. It's not what it translates to, but it's related to its original name." You explained.
"And how does it go? The first part at least?" Emily asked, her grin only becoming menacingly wider than it already had been before.
Immediately, your calm look was replaced with a startled expression. "Woah there, is this some deliberate scheme you've been secretly plotting the entire time we started talking about colors?" You asked with narrowed eyes.
"What? No, I would never." She said, feigning offense before laughing and assuring that it wasn't intentional at all.
"Fine, but just this once." You raised a finger, emphasizing 'once' before clearing your throat.
"Hold me close and hold me fast
This magic spell you cast
This is La Vie En Rose
When you kiss me heaven sighs
And though I close my eyes
I see La Vie En Rose"
Emily, still grinning widely, pulled out her phone from underneath the table and showed you as she pressed on a button, saving the short recording of your voice. "You have a lovely voice, (Name)."
You felt the heat rush up to your face, but knowing what the woman was like, she was probably just messing with you again.
"You are one sly fox aren't you Miss Dyer?" you said before trying to grab her phone, only for her to stop you by grabbing your chin. She then shut the phone off, and extended her arm away from your reach.
"Pink sounds like a rather lovely color, no?" She said as she brought your face a little closer to her's. "It's warm—not in the same way as the harsh blazing sun, but in a more tender, relieving, and comforting manner. It's the feeling or the mere thought of being beside your lover, the taste of strawberries and pomegranates, or I dare say their lips on yours."
She slowly put her phone back in her purse, took a step back and closed her eyes. "It is also the color that I one day hope to see as I paint my lover's monochrome grey world with shades of 'i'm yours—from here to eternity'."
You were speechless for a moment, with a face that you could only assume was red, or even pink, from a mixture of both embarrassment and awe, but mostly embarrassment.
"An lovely description... from a lovelier woman," You praised after you'd recovered, causing her to chuckle.
"Oh! That just reminded me." Emily's face lit up as she rummaged through her purse, eventually pulling out a little card—it was a concert ticket for VIPs.
She took your hand in hers and gently placed the card onto your hand. "I actually have a concert around here in a week. I'd appreciate it—a lot, actually—if you could come." She said with a hopeful smile. "I'll have to get going for now. I'll be quite busy in the next few days because of it, but I'll be sure to message you."
"O-of course. Don't worry about me, okay?" You gently squeezed her hand after keeping the ticket somewhere safe.
"I probably still will. Goodbye for now, (Name)! Take care of (Nickname) the little coffee cup for me!" She made a heart with her hands before quickly making her way out of the cafe.
Immediately after she left, Mike had taken her place in front of you. "Sheesh, a free ticket." Mike said looking almost as smug as the smuglord herself, Demi.
"There's no denying my accusations anymore... '(Nickname)'." He singsonged while making the little plushie dance.
"OH please..."
Time flew by quickly. And you did admit, it got a little lonely without a certain someone to pester you.
What was supposed to be eight days quickly devolved into eight hours, then into eight minutes until it had finally become eight seconds before the 'Firefly' would perform on stage for her eager, perhaps even anxious, and most of all adoring fans.
Seeing the lady in her dress adorned with several gleaming accessories of various shapes and sizes reminded you of the day you had first seen her. You once again wondered about its colors, what words she'd bring about to describe what she herself couldn't see, what imagery she'd manifest into life through both her audience's imagination and her brilliant eloquence.
And in a few moments time, she'd reached the final part of her performance.
"This one's for a special someone I met a few months ago. Someone I often think of as the lovable dork I love to tease as a part of my daily routine..." She joked, eliciting a few laughs from the crowd while you smiled and rolled your eyes into oblivion, knowing very well that she was talking about you.
"and hopefully..." she continued, this time looking directly at you with the cheekiest smile, "the one whose world I'll paint with lovely hues..."
You felt the familiar feeling of heat rush to your cheeks as she began the familiar song. Of course, you of all people would know what it was. It was you who sang it to her for the first time after all. And as her mellow voice filled the stadium, a smile involuntarily crept across your face, and you quietly sang along.
"When you press me to your heart
I'm in a world apart
Where roses bloom
And when you speak angels sing from above
Everyday words seem to turn into love songs..."
"Give your heart and soul to me..." Emily had started to slow down a little, both in her singing and her movements as she walked down the stage and approached you. "And life will always be..."
You delicately took her hand—the one that held her signature microphone—and finished the song, just as she had hoped.
"La Vie En... Rose"
In an instant, your black and white world had started blooming with various colors you thought you could only dream of. The bursts and flashes of hues seemingly drowned out the loud applause and cheers coming from the audience as you stood in front of your soulmate, who seemed to be just as stunned as you were.
The dress and gems that once looked white and grey in your eyes had become a glistening sapphire blue with both silver and bronze accessories to complement it.
"And I thought you said blue was a depressing color," you joked. "It's hard to imagine that when you've made my world far brighter than I could ever imagine."
"It doesn't have to be—a sad color, I mean." She defended, but quickly brought back the most important question at hand. "So... is it a yes?"
You looked at her in disbelief. "Are you kidding? Of course!"
She pulled you into a tight embrace, quickly raising both your hand and hers with the biggest smile on her face and excitedly exclaiming to the crowd.
"THEY SAID YES!"
And thus began, or as Emily daresaid—continued, the timeless and tender masterpiece of your love, an unwritten prose that had undoubtedly pierced the hearts of its audience further past the finite capabilities of words scribbled onto paper. A prose that you'd both find yourselves naming:
Life in Pink.
"Only now am I able to peer into this world's foreign hues, through the rose-tinted glasses that I've found called 'you'."
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throwupgirl · 3 years
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Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith (2014)
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daddywright · 3 years
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ok @eaglefairy this is one i know i WILL eventually finish, i promise. the premise? simple! a thief (kay) and her quarry (phoenix wright) 😉 the subtitle is 'the great yatagarasu steals mr. edgeworth a man' asdasdfads
When he receives the news that Kay Faraday will be consulting in Los Angeles for the next three months, his first reaction is one of pleasant surprise.
It has been nearly a year since they last reunited in Oslo—at a tech conference for forensics that had ended in a gruesome murder and a displeasure for snow storms that he will carry with him until his dying day—and he had been meaning to reach out to her more frequently than he had been.
He has kept abreast of her successes over the years with varying degrees of pride, interest, and mild concern, ever since she began her private investigation business. Frequently, he would catch wind of a case of hers on the international news cycle—a corrupt politician foiled in Madrid, a smuggling ring cracked in Milan—but most often he would receive an update through a spontaneous text at a heinous hour, disconcertingly short or overwhelmingly long depending on how her investigation was developing.
Many a night he has been jolted awake to the buzz of his cell on the night stand and squinted to read incomprehensible strings of suggestive emoticons or lengthy dissertations on the fallibility of Swiss museum security systems. Once or twice, he’d been pressed to send a message to Agent Lang or Franziska—whoever was closer in geography—to request they ensure a nonsensical message or two wasn’t an indicator of danger or life-threatening injury.
This evening, at least, her texts are legible. However, he thinks, eyes watering in the dark, her understanding of time zones has yet to improve.
02:31 i’m so excited! Ur gonna pick me up at the airport right????
02:32 i bet you still drive that ugly car ew bless ur heart
02:33 I CAN’TT WAIT TO SEE GUMMY <3
02:33 i still can’t believe he’s married now i mean i know i went to the wedding but STILL, our gummy...in love...isn’t love healing, edgeworth?
02:34 have you ever thought about getting married??
He straightens in bed at that, sighing, typing quickly before that train of thought can devolve into something trying for his sanity.
02:35 Kay. Please. It is 2:30AM. Refrain from texting me in the middle of the night unless it is an emergency, we’ve discussed this.
02:35 And yes, I will pick you up. Send me your flight itinerary.
02:36 whoooooops, forgot that time was real again. my b, mr. e.
02:36 and yayyyy! I finally get to meet all your work friends!
02:37 You’re coming to L.A. to investigate executive bank fraud, not fraternize with my employees.
02:38 i can do both ;) i have three whole months
That shouldn’t sound like a threat, and yet he feels disturbed.
02:39 Goodnight, Kay.
02:40 Goodnight Mr. Edgeworth!! See you tomorrow!! <3
He sighs, closing tired eyes, and sets the phone face down. Still as vivacious as ever. It will be good to see her again,he thinks, but hopefully she won’t provide too much of a distraction to his office or colleagues.
In retrospect, he will realize this was a fool’s hope. <<<
>>> “Heyyyy, Mr. Edgeworth.”
He glances up from his desk, eyebrow raised over the latest paperwork for the Jockhee case. “Kay,” he says shortly, noting the insouciant twist of her voice. “What are you doing here?”
She pouts, slipping around his desk to lean unabashed against the side of his office chair. “I come by to see you on your lunch break and you can’t even say hello.”
“It’s too early for lunch, and even if it were, I’ve my hands full today supervising a murder trial.” He lifts an eyebrow. “What do you want?”
She crosses her arms and plops down on the edge of his desk, ignoring his glower that she would consider it appropriate seating. “Why do I have to want something?” she asks casually, missing the mark of innocent by a mile.
“Kay, I am sincerely very busy. Out with it.”
Kay sighs, world-weary. “Fineee,” she groans. “I swear, you used to be more fun than this.”
“I’ve not become more or less ‘fun’--what I am is seven pages into a fifty-page summary report. So if you do not mind cutting to the chase, or saving social time for later—”
“I’ve been watching the murder trial,” she interrupts, and he blinks rapidly at her. Perhaps he underestimated her, and she actually came by in a professional capacity.
“You have?” He frowns beneath a wave of intrigue, stifled bluntly by concern. “It’s not connected to your investigation, is it?” He cannot see how the homicide of a radio host could be in any way connected to bank embezzlement and fraud, but he knows better than to rule anything out completely in this city.
“What? No, that’s almost wrapped up. I got a lead and I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to track him down this week, whenever he gets back from Prague—”
“Kay. If not in relation to your case, why are you spending your time in the courthouse?”
“I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” she says breezily. “You know, with that man.”
Miles blinks at her. “With—” Abruptly, he feels his stomach drop. “I beg your pardon.”
“It’s him, right? Mr. Blue Suit? The defense attorney?”
“You’re watching the murder trial to observe Wright?”
“I mean, why not? I’ve heard so much about him, I just wanted to see the guy in action, you know?”
“How did you even know that—”
“C’mon,” she says, thumbing the side of her nose. “You said he was a defense attorney who “showed you the path”-- she waggles her gloved fingers, sending heat scorching into his face— “and that was like, forever ago, so he had to be a veteran attorney, and I know he sometimes comes by here—”
“And how do you know that?” he demands. His eyes narrow to slits. “Kay. Tell me you have not been following him—”
“I don’t need to follow him,” she hedges. “I just showed up at the trial and watched, like all the other weirdos who decide it’s a nice way to spend a Saturday.” She whistles. “You know, he’s pretty good. Kind of a clown sometimes, and sometimes puts his foot in his mouth, but he’s got that—justice streak, just like you. Moral fiber or whatever. He’s just...squishier.”
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n1kolaiz · 3 years
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ENTJ + INFJ DYNAMIC
BSD MANGA CHAPTER 54-57 SPOILERS
Chapter 54 introduced Mushitaro Oguri, and his background involving Yokomizo was ever so intriguing to me. So unfortunately, here I am.
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Mushitaro and Yokomizo's dynamic:
The 'Commander' meets the 'Idealist.'
Alright, I won't go into the details about the case of Yokomizo's death, because there's no way in hell I can explain it fluently at all. So if you need further reference to what these few chapters are about, popopretty's post would elaborate on the details and whatnot.
Before I start, here's a bit of little introduction to both individual characters:
MUSHITARO OGURI
Mushitaro appears to take a lot of pride in his ability, which contributes to his arrogant complex altogether. He had his own desires and goals, and lived out his days just to fulfil them.
His ability is called the 'Perfect Crime,' which allows him to erase any trail of evidence pertaining to whatever crime he had committed. Hence, he is also known as the 'infallible Detective-killer.'
Until Ranpo proved him wrongヾ(❀╹◡╹)ノ゙
His personality type is most likely 'ENTJ,' the 'Commander.'
- ENTJs are known to have exceptional leadership skills. They are confident in themselves and what they do; basically, they don't have the tendency to second-guess what they are capable of. This explains Mushitaro's ambition to achieve his ends, and his ability goes the extra mile of complimenting his success rate greatly. Whether his motives or the end results were morally good or evil, it didn't matter to Mushitaro— as long as his wishes were fulfilled.
"With tyrants and demons, I'll make deal with a demon. That's in my nature."
- They're also quite outspoken with their opinions. It's a fairly minor detail, but this shows why he wasn't afraid to express the distaste he had for mystery novels to Yokomizo— including the extravagant ideas and serpentine stories his close friend based his life upon and discussed with him.
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- The subtle insensitivity mixed in with an ENTJ's preference of logic over emotion highlights one of their core weaknesses: which brings us back to Mushitaro's ability to kill his friend. Say you were to put a person with a deeply compassionate heart, who's also very well in-tact when it comes to identifying emotions and being empathetical to other's feelings: would that person be able to kill a friend they'd known for so long? For the sole reason of making his last mystery novel a deathless enigma? This is very subjective perspective, but I believe that if Mushitaro was more of an emotionalist rather than a strategist, things would have turned out different for Yokomizo's eventual fate.
Side note: His insensitivity did, however, find its limit when he realised how devastating it was to have killed his own friend with his hands. Even though there's a wide scale that measures how insensitive a person can be, they are, in fact, still human beings capable of feeling. Killing someone dear to you is no easy task; there is a breaking point for the hardest of hearts.
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SEISHI YOKOMIZO
Yokimozo, also known as Kindaichi, was a mystery writer who was very particular about detail and being exclusive, especially when it came to his works. His last wish he pursued to achieve before a terminal illness took his life was done by formulating a 'mystery that transcended reality.'
"I hate regret. So I've done whatever I've wanted to do. Up until now, it's been a satisfying life. But now… I've been given a time limit…Before then, I have to complete the ultimate mystery."
His personality type is identified as 'INFJ,' also known as the 'Idealist.'
- INFJ's are deeply creative and artistic, but they express it in various different ways. For Yokomizo, he portrayed his brilliant artistic skill through his writings revolving around mysteries and their compelling depths. The fictional character's namesake was also a mystery novel writer. Yokomizo was pretty well-versed with how mysteries worked and how their details ravelled themselves into elegantly, well-established riddles, which only added to his natural flair of writing.
- Generally, INFJs are reserved, but incredibly idealistic. Yokomizo was seen to be very abstract in his idea of thinking, and this is due to the fact that INFJs have a thing for pondering about life and the meaning behind everything.
"Mushi-kun, I bet you're laughing at me for destroying myself for the sake of mystery. But if that's the case, maybe there's no such thing as unshakable values. Maybe it's up to us to decide what to put value in and what to live for. After all, we have the right to turn our own decisions into our entire world. It is, foolishly enough, the greatest luxury afforded to mankind."
- As for their weaknesses, some INFJs are very hard to get to know. They are mysterious at times, which prevents them from being flamboyant with their thoughts and opinions. Yokomizo had a very lighthearted, mystifying nature, which made him a very interesting character altogether. Despite having a high regard for their intimate relationships— INFJs can be quite private. Mushitaro vaguely points out his self-contained, introverted mannerisms in this panel:
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Now, I'll get to my point.
ENTJs and INFJs don't ideally match up, but when it comes to general friendships, there are a few details that suggest an accomodating dynamic between the two personality types. These qualities emanate from Mushitaro and Yokomizo's friendship with each other.
Opposites attract in most cases, correct?
Well, in this case, ENTJs and INFJs have a lot of similarities:
intelligent
intuitive in thinking
determined
goal-oriented
But the more numerable contrasting qualities is what really brings out the agreeable traits between Mushitaro and Yokozimo. Think of it as a system where two opposites mutually keep each other in check:
1. Mushitaro bases his life on the gaining his own needs and wants, and is very firm in his sense of realism, while Yokomizo is more focused on the deep, complexities of life itself. This may come off as impractical to ENTJs, but also compliments their coordination with INFJs. Realism limits idealism, but idealists can also expand the boundaries realists place themselves in.
2. INFJs accept people and ideas as they are, not willing to put others down just to prove themselves right. Yokozimo's tolerant behaviour stands in contrast with how authoritative Mushitaro is, especially when it boils down to his arrogance— he isn't afraid to spit his pride right into his opponent's face.
Kneel, detectives! I am the king of crime! No one can force me to sin and repent!
Just for laughs reference^
So it's safe to say that because Yokomizo had an acquired sense of serenity and open-mindedness, he was able to tolerate Mushitaro's extravagant, subtle histrionic characteristics, which were laced with his superior complex.
3. In the manga, Yokomizo speaks and converses with Mushitaro in a way that suggests that he is careful with his words. INFJs are gentle and generally sensitive to the needs of others, so they tend to be careful with what comes out of their mouths. Mushitaro, like most ENTJs, are quite blunt. This points back to how insensitive they come off, even if they don't actually mean it. So when it comes to Yokozimo explaining tales of mystery to Mushitaro, Mushitaro doesn't hesitate to mock Yokozimo; but because of how understanding Yokozimo is, he doesn't take Mushitaro's opinions too seriously to the point of discounting the value of their friendship, because he knew Mushitaro didn't use his words with the intention to harm.
If you were to place a more dominant persona in Yokomizo's position, I doubt that that person would be able to tolerate such behaviours. Then again, this is crucially subjective.
I suppose the main thing I wanted to point out was how ENTJs and INFJs balanced each other out by cancelling out each other's extreme traits, and keeping each other in the middle of the equilibrium altogether. But another thing I'd like to point out to sum up Mushitaro and Yokozimo's relationship was this: the fact that Mushitaro had to kill his own friend to grant his dying wish. Dying for someone or by someone's hands is easier than killing someone, especially if that someone is dear to you, no? I guess that's the part I can't fathom— it was the type of relationship that stood out way more than I had expected. Say, the roles were switched, would Yokomizo actually kill Mushitaro? Or would Mushitaro think of such an incomprehensible way to die in the first place? Or what if these two friends had different, more superior traits that coexisted in conflict all the time, would Yokomizo even depend on Mushitaro with such a task?
The speculations are endless, or maybe it's pretty straightforward. Though, I hope this made sense.
Okay, I'm done rambling for now. Thank you for reading!
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slowiedrakie · 3 years
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Play with Fire (Lance Fanfiction) - Chapter 3 : Trust.
Here's the new version of chapter three ! Hope you like it and thank you so much for reading <3
WARNING ! This is the new version of the chapter 3 of PwF, if you have read the old version, please read the new one so you don't miss any new detail I added when I rewrote the chapter. If you haven't read the old version, then you can ignore this message. In any case, I hope you'll enjoy the chapter <3
Masterlist
- under the cut -
Nevra had brought me back to his room when he saw that I was having trouble calming myself down. At first he wanted to bring me back to Erika's but I told him that I didn't want other people to see me in this state, and that it was already hard for me that he could see it. I knew it was stupid to want to appear strong and foolproof like that, but I couldn't help it. I didn't want other people to know that I have weaknesses.
He understood my feelings and luckily we didn't meet anyone on the way. Nevra spent the rest of the afternoon with me, keeping me company until I managed to calm myself down completely. I was truly grateful to him and felt so safe and secure at that moment that I ended up falling asleep on his bed, exhausted by the overflow of emotions and the crying.
I don't know how long I slept, but when I woke up it was dark and Nevra was sleeping on the bedroom sofa. I jumped to my feet, immediately feeling guilty for making him give up on his bed for me. So I walked over to him and gently shook his shoulder to wake him up.
"Nevra..."
He woke up quickly and looked at me with eyes still cloudy from sleep.
"Don't stay on the sofa, come to your bed... I can take the sofa."
He chuckled when he heard me say that.
"I won't let you sleep on the sofa while I'm in my bed."
I sighed.
"So let's both go to your bed. I won't be able to sleep on it either knowing that I am very comfortable and you are not. It's already nice of you to let me sleep in your room...
- Are you sure you don't mind? he asked worriedly.
- Of course not, I trust you." I replied, smiling.
He sat up with a grimace and I saw that I wouldn't need to ask him twice. I felt even more guilty I pushed him to leave me his bed. He pointed to his wardrobe and told me that I could take one of his shirts to use as pajamas. I thanked him softly, agreeing that my current clothes were far from comfortable for sleeping.
I quickly undressed and pulled on one of his larger tops that most closely resembled a t-shirt. He also undressed, remaining shirtless with wide shorts in black and purple colors. He laid down in his bed, obviously ready to go back to sleep and I suddenly hesitated as I stood beside it.
"I can go back to Erika's room if you prefer..." I murmured.
Keeping his eye closed, he grabbed my wrist to make me fall onto the bed.
"You're not bothering me," he replied simply.
I blushed slightly but didn't insist, knowing that I might really start annoying him if I bothered him about it again. So I slipped under the still warm sheets when Nevra let go of my wrist and felt sleep come over me much faster than I thought.
It must be said that Nevra's bed was really very comfortable and the sheets were so soft that it very quickly plunged me into a deep restful sleep.
***
The next day, I was gently woken up by the first light of dawn. As I opened my eyes, I found myself face to face with Nevra's still sleepy face. During the night, we had naturally come closer to each other and he had an arm wrapped around me. I didn't move and just watched him sleep: he seemed so peaceful that I didn't want to wake him up.
I detailed the features of his face before my eyes wandered lower, following the line of his neck before finally settling on his very well-defined chest and abs. I tried to stay calm but could not help but subconsciously bite my lip as I imagined sliding my fingers on her skin.
"Like the view?"
I quickly looked back up to find the vampire looking at me with a smug smile as I started to blush furiously, embarrassed that I got caught red-handed. I immediately turned my back to him.
"No. I was sleeping, you're bothering me." I replied.
Nevra laughed behind me and tightened his arm that was around me, and I knew he hadn't finished teasing me about it.
"Oh really? So, you sleep with your eyes open?"
I mumbled something incomprehensible, but before the vampire had time to tease me even more, voices from the hallway came closer and closer. I heard him heave a deep sigh behind me.
The door of his room suddenly flew open on Erika and Leiftan, the blonde staying behind her. Nevra pulled away from me, withdrawing his arm quickly, probably to avoid receiving any remark, and I couldn't help myself but to regret the contact of his body.
"Usually we knock before entering, he said.
- Noelyne, what are you doing here? I looked for you everywhere!" Erika exclaimed, completely ignoring his remark.
I sat up in Nevra's bed to look at her, feeling a little guilty for making her worry. It's true that I didn't bother telling her that I was sleeping elsewhere, and obviously, Nevra didn't either.
"I'm sorry..., I said, I spent some time training with Nevra yesterday and he invited me to his room so that we could discuss my weak points and my strengths. We finished late at night and I was really tired so I stayed here to sleep."
The vampire didn't react to the lie I gave them, and I suddenly I realized how dangerous it was. What if Nevra had left the room while I was sleeping and said something else to the others? I'd look like a whole liar...
Fortunately, this explanation seemed to satisfy Leiftan and Erika, although I was confused as to why the blond was with her.
"I see... I was worried you know?
- Don't worry about me, I know how to fight, I smile.
- That's for sure, said Nevra, still lying behind me, During yesterday's training, I won, but it was for from being easy."
Leiftan, who seemed really out of our discussion so far, suddenly seemed particularly interested in what Nevra had just said.
"Really? he asked, She put you in difficulty?
- Not only that, replied the vampire, The only thing that worked in my favor was that I had more strength than she did, but she had managed to immobilize me. Not to mention that when I got her, she was ready to ruin my chances of ever having a child."
He took on a dramatic voice as he said that, which made me laugh as I turned to look at him.
"It's not my fault you don't protect what needs to be enough in combat," I replied, laughing.
He nudged me lightly in the ribs, smiling as I turned back to Leiftan and Erika.
"Anyways, did you need something? I asked.
- Ykhar would like to see you to explain to you the modalities of the mission, replied Leiftan, Don't make her wait for too long."
Now I understood why they had teamed up to look for me all of a sudden. We chatted for a while longer before they finally left the room, closing the door behind them. There was a moment of silence before I laid back down on the bed and turned my head to Nevra.
"Doesn't it worry you that people can get into your room so easily?"
The vampire opened his only valid eye to look at me.
"Usually, I lock the door, but I didn't want you to feel locked up if you decided to leave during the night.
- Oh..."
I was really touched by this little attention. He really did his best to make me feel comfortable, taking into account my needs and my fears. I'd be lying if I said it hadn't worked, I really trusted him, although I didn't know him for that long. I really hoped that this bond we created in such a short time would only get stronger over time.
"Thank you... But you don't have to worry about that for the next time. I told you, I trust you.
- Because there will be a next time? he asked with a suggestive smile.
- Your bed is way too comfortable for me not to take it." I laugh.
He continued to smile before his expression got more serious.
"Why do you trust me so much? We hardly know each other... You shouldn't trust strangers so easily." he said.
I thought about it for a moment, staring at his ceiling. It's true that, deep down, I had no reason to trust him. But there was nothing I could do about it, it was almost... Instinctive.
"I can't explain it. It's not usual for me to trust so easily, especially after what happened to me, but you... Since I arrived, I naturally trusted you, even though I don't really know why. And since then, your actions showed me I'm right to trust you, so I don't see why I should be suspicious.
- It's strange that you trust me so much without knowing why... Maybe it's because I'm the one who found you in the forest near the HQ? he thinks.
- You're the one who found me? I asked, surprised.
- Yeah. At first I thought you were a faery from a nearby village who got lost in the forest and got attacked, but I had never seen your clothes before, so I assumed you might be from Earth. However, some of your wounds had already been healed with Eldarian products. And there were those string burns on your wrists and your ankles, without the slightest trace of the said ropes anywhere... I was confused, I didn't understand what the hell could ha possibly happened to you."
It was the second time I had been told that someone had found me before the guard. In fact, if he hadn't told me about it again, I would probably have completely forgotten this detail. But now that he told me that this mysterious person had treated my wounds before letting me close to HQ, information that Eweleïn apparently didn't find important enough to share with me, I was intrigued, and the more I thought about it, the more I felt they were telling the truth. I felt like I remembered something, a man with white hair, but it was very vague, I couldn't remember his face precisely. It was frustrating, but it was clear that there was nothing I could do about it except hope that my memory would come back to me. I'd like to find him someday to at least thank him...
I eventually pushed those thoughts out of my mind and turned my head to look at Nevra with a small smile. I'd have time to deal with the matter later.
"Well, thank you for finding me then," I smiled.
He waved my thanks away and I sat on the bed before stretching out. I was happy to have met him, he was really a great comfort to me, and it felt good to have someone to rely on, whom I could trust. Of course, maybe I was wrong about him, but I decided to trust my gut instead of worrying or being suspicious. And come what may.
"I'm going to go see Ykhar, she won't wait for me forever." I smiled and I got up before getting dressed in my clothes from the day before.
I didn't care that Nevra could see me change or not, he had certainly seen a lot more and more generally I just wasn't shy, showing my body didn't particularly bother me. He sat up on his bed and as I was about to walk out of the room, he stopped me.
"I can ask to be the one to come with you on the mission if you want. I have another mission but I can be replaced to go with you."
I gave him a reassuring smile.
"Don't worry about me, go on your mission. Miiko said mine wasn't dangerous so you don't have to worry."
I didn't give him time to answer and left his room quickly to go to the library to find Ykhar. I had barely stepped into the room that the brownie jumped on me, as if scared I was going to escape. She told me absolutely everything i needed to know about my mission and the importance of the negotiations for the two peoples who would be confronted. She also told me more about the peoples in question to give me an idea of ​​what to say or do in the case of a conflict.
But I wasn't worried about that. I knew that if there was any problem, Leiftan would be here to take care of it. But still, I listened carefully to everything she had to say to me and asked questions whenever I had one, so that I could be as efficient as possible.
It took longer than expected and I couldn't help but wonder if she wasn't thirsty from talking so much, especially since I was far from being as talkative as she was and I still managed to have a dry throat.
"It's crazy, she said eventually, I think you're the first person who doesn't find a reason to run away when I talk to her. We must have been at it for hours... You can tell me if I'm boring you.
- Oh no not at all! I'm really interested in what you're telling me, and I don't want to mess up on my first missions." I reassured her, smiling.
She gave me a big, bright smile and I understood how happy she was that I said that. We chatted for a few more minutes before her responsibilities as a member of the Light guard caught up with her and she was forced to abandon me.
I left the library and decided to go for a walk, just to stretch my legs after sitting down for so long. It was already dark and the HQ was much quieter than during the day. I appreciated the freshness of the evening as well as this stop of the usual noise and activity.
My feet finally guided me to the cherry tree, and I was surprised to find there a man dressed in black from head to toe, his face hidden by a mask. He was about to throw a pebble at a window, judging by his position and his gaze.
"You know, if you want to talk to someone you might as well go knock on their door."
The man jumped at the sound of my voice and turned to me. He didn't say anything for a long moment, as if he was trying to analyze me and seemed to relax a little.
"And you are...? he asked eventually, his tone hinting that he already knew it.
- I return you the question."
From his voice I could tell he was quite young and from his demeanor I guessed he wasn't supposed to be here. I was intrigued by this man, because I had not really imagined that the guard could have enemies until now... Weirdly, I didn't feel scared in his presence, I didn't have the feeling that he could hurt me. Looking at him, I had a strange feeling of familiarity, not like someone I had known but almost like we were… the same. I couldn't explain it.
He walked closer to me and I watched him do so, ready to defend myself anyway in case my instinct was wrong.
"Don't trust them too much. They're just a bunch of liars." he said simply.
I looked at him intently, trying to sense what his intentions might be, although I couldn't see his face, much to my dismay, by the way.
"Did they do something wrong to you?
- They lied to me, as they will lie to you and lied to Erika. Ask her if you don't believe me."
I nodded softly, knowing that Erika had suffered quite a bit because of the lies of the guard, although I didn't know all the details of the story.
"I see... And what solution do you propose?" I asked.
He didn't answer for a moment, as if trying to analyze me again, although I felt there was something else. He looked almost confused, but I couldn't figure out why. I suspected that even though I hadn't been told about it yet, this man was a real problem for HQ, and I didn't know how to behave with him.
"Don't tell anyone you saw me, and wait for me to contact you again." he said finally.
I arched an eyebrow but before I could reply, I heard someone come up behind me. I turned my head and saw Nevra arrive, frowning.
"Who were you talking to?" he asked, coming up to me.
I turned to where the masked man had been a few seconds earlier, but he was already gone. Should I tell Nevra about this? I wasn't really sure... However, I didn't want to lie to him, I was beholden to the guard and I couldn't see myself betraying them just because this guy asked me to. And besides, I didn't want to. I glanced over at the window he was trying to reach and quickly realized it was Erika's.
"No one..., I replied, pretending to shiver, I'll go back I think. Care to walk with me for a bit?"
I didn't want to risk the masked man overhearing me so I preferred to wait until I was alone with Nevra to tell him about it. The vampire was unsurprisingly not really convinced by the answer, but agreed anyway. I said nothing on the way, and once in the hallway, I opened the door of his room as naturally as possible and entered as if it was my habit. The masked man didn't know me, so if he was watching me, it was better to look natural. And I preferred Nevra's room, because I didn't know how involved Erika was yet.
Nevra seemed to understand that something was wrong but waited until he had locked the door behind me to ask.
"I met a man at the cherry tree, he was dressed all in black and was wearing a mask..."
The vampire immediately seemed to know who I was talking about and stared at me.
"You should have gone for help! he exclaimed.
- I didn't know he had a grudge against the guard. It was only after calling him out that I suspected it. If I had gone looking for you or Miiko, he would have had plenty of time to run away anyway. But who is he exactly?"
Nevra sighed and invited me to sit on his bed with him. He made me promise not to tell anyone before starting to explain to me who this man was. Apparently he called himself Ashkore, the name of an ancient dragon, but no one knew his true identity. From what I understood, he had infiltrated the HQ numerous times and kept stealing things.
At first, I thought it wasn't that bad until he explained to me that it was he who had broken the big crystal and then it all made sense. I understood better why the guard feared him so much... It was hard to anticipate the actions of a man mad and strong enough to break the crystal. I couldn't help but continue to be intrigued… I would really like to know more about who he was but obviously Nevra had told me everything he knew.
"You know everything now... What exactly did he tell you? Nevra finally asked me.
- Not much. He told me you were liars and that you lied to him too. I asked him what solution he had and he told me not to tell anyone I saw him and wait for him to contact me again."
I looked at the vampire with a small smile.
"Oops... I didn't listen to him."
He laughed nervously, but became serious again very quickly. Obviously, he didn't want to take this situation lightly and I could understand him easily.
"I'm not comfortable with the idea of you passing yourself off as one of his allies... He might want to kill you at the slightest doubt of your loyalty. Considering how easy it is for him to get in and out of HQ, that would be far too dangerous. We'll have to talk about it to the rest of the Light guard tomorrow."
I shook my head.
"No, that's not a good idea. He can't have only enemies in the guard, there is necessarily, at least one traitor within the HQ. And chances are they're in the Light guard. If so, Ashkore will inevitably be informed that-
I paused in the middle of my sentence before looking at Nevra, suddenly having an idea.
"Noelyne? Don't you think it's me right?"
I smiled, shaking my head again.
"No of course not. But if we talk to the Light guard and I come across Ashkore again and he knows about it, that will mean the traitor is really part of the Light guard. That'll considerably reduce our list of suspects."
Nevra seemed to think about it for a moment before finally nodding.
"It's a good idea. Even if I hope the traitor isn't in the Light guard, it's the least dangerous."
He looked sad as he said these words and I sighed.
"I hope so too. I'll try to take advantage of the fact that I don't know you guys that well to try and identify suspicious behavior. You are all more or less friends and knowing that love is blind, you may have missed something important.
- And you're not afraid you're missing something about me?" he asked.
I looked at him, laughing.
"Maybe. But I take the risk of not having made a bad pick by choosing to confide in you."
He gave a small smile but I could tell he didn't like the situation at all, which I could easily understand.
"In order to not take any risks, you absolutely have to act as if you weren't aware of what I'm going to announce, okay? I said, He mustn't think that I trust you more than another, even if I think it's pretty obvious..."
We worked out the details of the plan before changing the topic to lighten the mood a bit. We chatted until late and therefore Nevra offered to stay and sleep in his room again tonight and of course I agreed. He teased me a bit, telling me that "I was just waiting for this" and that he should "surely be worried", to use his words.
In response, I collapsed on his bed after putting on the top I had borrowed the day before from him. I lifted my head and looked at him with a mischievous smile.
"I won't jump on you because it would make you too happy. If you ever want to get between my legs, you're going to have to win my heart first."
The vampire was speechless as I laid down, laughing and turning my back to him, wishing him good night. He didn't reply and eventually, I fell asleep much faster than I had anticipated, my heart much lighter than the day before.
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Okay, you know how I said I wanted to watch all these german minecraft series and then watch 3rd Life SMP? Yea, I actually dont have the attention span to watch a bunch of white bread boys fuck around in minecraft with little to no story, regardless of wether theyre american or european so Im just gonna write this post and them start watching 3rd Life SMP so yeah.
First, I kinda want to discuss what Im hoping for on like, a meta-level I guess. The only other minecraft RP Ive watched that seems similar to this is Dream SMP so expect lots of comparisons.
I like to split dsmp into three major parts: no story/non-rp, story/non-rp and story/rp.
The first part was literally just a live streamed vanilla minecraft let's play and it was boring as shit. It felt exactly like watching a bunch of dudes play minecraft and unless they acknowledged the people in their donations (who could uncomfortably pushy and even shippy at times) you did not at all get the impression they were even aware of the stream. And as much as I appreciate some level of authenticity in this type of content, I also expect to be entertained by it and this did not even meet my bare minimum standard of entertainment. Admittedly, my attention span is very low so that definitely has something to do with it, but still. I personally have never felt anything but boredom and occasionally intense discomfort while watching anything from this 'era' of dsmp.
The second part was the start of the first conflict, and thus the start of some semblance of a story. They were kind of 'roleplaying' already (both in the sense that they obviously have their personas for their content and in sense that they didnt actually have grievances with one another and were just playing it up for the sake of entertainment) but it was more on the fly, even less focused and less serious. However, it was already legues more fun to watch.
And then we had the third part, where, starting with Wilbur Soot joining and deciding to larp Hamilton, they started to plan things out more and have more complex and/or dramatic conflicts. Needless to say, this was/is the best part in my opinion and what made me see the appeal of dsmp.
What Im hoping for 3rd Life SMP is, that they skip atleast the first part. From what I can tell, it was created sometime after dsmp has been in that third part for a bit and it is a minecraft rp, so Im assuming the people behind it wanted to do something similar, just with the story aspect there on purpose and from the get-go, if you know what I mean. And by the way, I dont think thats wrong or even "copying" in the slightest. Dsmp very much seems like a case of "they did it first, not best" and if anything, I think it would be a shame if people didn't want to do their own spin on this basic concept.
What Im personally hoping for in terms of the 'style' of roleplay itself, I really hope that they dont seperate it as rigidly into lore and non-lore as they did in dsmp. Ideally, they would do it like Ranboo (Wilbur when he was playing Ghostbur to an extend too, but he didnt actually stream and have his own POV back then), where he's always kinda 'In-Character' even when there isnt really anything happening in the plot at that moment. Again, I just dont have the attention span for no story in series like this anymore, so I'd appreciate it on a personal level, but I also think that it could humanize the characters more and potentially add additional depth to them. Especially since it looks like 3rd Life is made by the Hermitcraft group and if the stuff Ive read about Hermitcraft (especially in comparison to dsmp) it wont thrive off intense conflicts and wars in quite the same way, so that could also be a way of making a calmer rp interesting.
And now, some actual plot predictions!
So, the way I found 3rd Life SMP was this really neat 'Pitiful Children' animatic by ZylisticArt. I didnt actually 'watch' it because when I look up animatics I just kinda stare at the screen, not processing anything because Im too busy imagining my own OC animatic to the song, but I did read the description and was mildly intrigued, and its the main reason I wanted to watch 3rd Life so Im going to properly watch it now and post my predictions for the plot below.
***
The description mentions something about the animatic being based on some kinda theory, but I only skimmed it in order to not get spoiled so idk what thats really about. Im mostly intrigued by the fact that the description mentions it being a hardcore SMP (with a twist!), that, combined with the name and the visuals of the animatkc lead me to a couple conclusions;
I dont really know how Hardcore mode works in multiplayer, but in singleplayer you just get permanently kicked out of your world when you die, so Im assuming it works like that on a server too, except on a server, Im pretty sure you have the option of being 'reinvited' onto a server by the admin(s) so you could theoretically have three lives while keeping it a hardcore project where you cant regenerate without potions or golden apples and all that. Again, idk if thats actually how hardcore works but I sure hope it is, because thats what Im basing pretty much all of my predictions on.
In the animatic there were like green people, yellow people and a red guy who was like, the antagonist I guess. I think the green guys still have all their lives, the yellow ones are down to two and the red lads are all down to their last one. Maybe theres gonna be a thing thats like, if you lose a life you lose a part of your soul and that makes you evil or something? Yknow, like the whole "character comes back wrong" thing, except its the conflict of the entire series. Pitiful Children is very much a 'Manipulating Others Into Doing Harmful Shit' kinda song, and I feel like that would be very in-line with a plotline like that, yknow?
Im not expecting there to be wars/conflicts on the scale of dsmp (no blown up countries here bois) but I am expecting to get ridiculously attached to a place that inevitably gets blown up/set on fire by an antagonist.
Speaking of antagonists, theyre definitely also doing the whole multiple POV thing, which means everyone is an antagonist in one way or another and Im a solutely watching every POV from every characters so that I know the full context and story of everything, so I can have the most correct opinions on them, which is both normal to want and possible to achieve.
Since these are the Hermitcraft guys Im expecting some beautiful builds that make me feel insanely untalented and the same thing with redstone shit.
Ghosts. If they havent added some kind of ghost mechanic/lore at the time Im writing this, they will add one in later, mark my words 3rd Life fandom, mark my words...
Thats pretty much it. This is all going under my mcyt tag too, and I dont think I'll be live blogging it, but it really depends on how interesting it is.
Also, if youre a 3rd Life fan who already watched all of it, the only thing youre allowed to respond to this with is a meme that is horribly incomprehensible to anyone who hasnt watched it.
Have a nice day!
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lizacstuff · 3 years
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Sen Çal Kapımı / Edser  Anon asks for Episode 42
Good asks again for this episode and I got very wordy when answering.
Find asks and answers under the cut...
Anonymous asked: Hey, Liza! How did you like the ep? I loved that Eda was the one to tell him the truth and and also liked how they kept us intrigued about who will tell Serkan, Eda or our private investigators Aydan, Engin and co (although they should have gone to Eda first, it's not their secret after all). I wish, of course, that the writers would show us the scene where Serkan was telling Kiraz those sweet things she mentioned to Eda, but I guess it was done on purpose for the dramatic end of the ep. Why do you think Serkan didn't pick up any clues about his daughter? I mean, Ayse always wrote him as a smart guy. Perhaps, he felt that Kiraz is his but was afraid to face the truth? What do you think? I just hope that we hear Serkan's pov in the next ep!! and they taaaaalk!
I did like a lot of things about the episode, but some parts were a bit frustrating to watch. Not frustrating like the amnesia times where I felt sick and just wanted the episode over, nothing like that. I still enjoyed watching and the time moved quickly, but it was frustrating to watch them both be so DENSE.  
Serkan. Come on, the obvious is staring him in the face. As you say, he’s a smart dude, so why isn’t he putting this together? And it was frustrating that we still don’t know anything from his perspective. Why is he the way that he is when it comes to children!?!? That is the question. IF (a big if) they go the route of him not thinking he can have children after his treatments that would go a long way to explaining why it never occurs to him that he’s her father. However, we don’t know if they’re going to go that way or not, if they don’t I guess we’re just supposed to believe he’s so distracted by Eda that he can’t see what’s blatantly obvious to everyone else?
What was even more frustrating, though, was that Eda was so obtuse when it came to Serkan  Look, from Eda’s perspective I get the notion of wanting to make sure Serkan would be open to a child before telling him. However, the only thing worse than Serkan finding out about Kiraz and outright rejecting her is Serkan finding out and him being angry at what he’s lost and proving Eda wrong by embracing Kiraz as his own. In that scenario Eda has to face how wrong she’s been and how she’s deprived both Serkan and Kiraz (and herself) of a vitally important relationship. That’s A LOT. So I can see why Eda was invested in Option C: the secret remains intact.
So I think in this episode she was seeing what she wanted to see. Or what the worst version of herself wanted to see. Eda is a very good person, but I think she wanted to find reasons not to tell him in order to justify the lies she’s told. Also I think there was part of her that just couldn’t handle hoping that he would want to be a part of their lives. She wanted to shut it down before he could get any further under her skin.
Any way you slice it, though, her unwillingness to see Serkan and Kiraz’s growing bond is a bit selfish. On the other hand she’s not really thinking straight. She has Serkan back in her life, discombobulating her, engaging her heart, confusing her, bringing up all those old powerful feelings. She has Kiraz pining for her father while forming an attachment with a man who happens to be said father. She has Ayfer, Melo, Burak and even Kerem pressuring her in different ways and Ayfer full on judging her. Plus she has Aydan sniffing around.
With all of that I think we can forgive her for not thinking straight, she must be pretty stressed out. However, that still doesn’t really excuse her actions this ep.
Which brings us to her testing him. Seriously? Putting aside the fact that she’s making the man unwittingly prove to her that he deserves to know something that is his unalienable right to know, what was that test?  Let me get this straight, when Eda, who is an experienced single mother, has to take an important call she sends Kiraz away, but when Serkan,  who is not experienced with children and not used to them, is on an important call he’s supposed to gracefully navigate having a 5-year-old he barely knows climb all over him?  And that’s the litmus test for whether he gets to know he’s a father? A test Eda wouldn’t even take herself? WTF?
So bizarre. So Serkan didn’t pass that test, but Eda also either doesn’t see or refuses to see "good” moments. Serkan is at the pool, pretty much at Kiraz’s command, blowing up her floaties, attempting to fix her hair. The guy doesn’t know what’s going on but he’s still willing to sit there and humor this kid and that should have been enough for Eda.  Then she walks up when they’re sitting in the garden and it doesn’t occur to her that for quite some time Serkan Bolat has been successfully entertaining a 5-year-old girl he thinks belongs to Melo. When Eda arrives they are seated together, Kiraz is in good spirits, she’s sitting on an extra cushion, which she clearly didn’t get herself, but this very unSerkan-like moment doesn’t count in Serkan’s favor?  Could she have ever imagined Serkan spending that kind of time with a random child? Why is this not registering with her! Oh because she doesn’t want it to. 
 And again at the end of the episode Eda walked up to find Serkan crouching down on Kiraz’s level having a full conversation with their daughter while no one else was around. But that interaction also doesn’t weigh with her?
So what exactly was Eda wanting to see? Is there even a way Serkan could have unwittingly proven himself? Did he need to say, “Golly gee, Eda, I wish Kiraz was our daughter” in order to unlock the secret level that lets him know he’s a father?
And for this nonsense we must blame the writers. They clearly wanted the dramatic 11th hour reveal from Kiraz that Serkan had been bonding with her and for Eda to make the decision at the last minute to turn back and tell him.  But her leaving at all was incomprehensible to me. At the point that she decided to go, Piril had told her that Aydan and Engin were onto her and knew that Kiraz was Serkan’s daughter. Her excuse that if she left maybe they’d forget about it? Has the character of Eda ever uttered a dumber line? No seriously? She thinks Aydan is going to figure out she has a granddaughter, that Serkan’s flesh and blood is out there and she’s going to let it go? Engin too? Good grief, Eda is not that clueless to think her moronic plan would work out. This episode asked for a lot of suspension of disbelief, too much when it came to Eda’s actions.
However, I must say running away is entirely in Eda’s character, she’s done that many times. So, having said all that, I do feel for Eda. She’s raised Kiraz as a single mother and done all of this by herself for a long time. And I can only imagine how disheartening it was to have Serkan aggressively pursuing her all episode, but when they have a real moment on the pier after reading the message in a bottle, he immediately dismisses the idea of having children. In light of what was on her mind, I can see why that was devastating to her and made her want to flee. 
The thing is there has to be a reason why Serkan is so adamant. He’s now past whatever depression and PTSD he might have been suffering from after the treatments, and he also now knows what it’s like to actually lose Eda and he knows he wants her back... so why is he still so adamant that he doesn’t want children after wanting them before?  We are in desperate need of his perspective on this, and I hope both the audience, and Eda, get it.  It’s too cruel to her not knowing why and just thinking he hates the idea of kids with her that much.
Thank goodness Eda got to him to tell him before Engin or Aydan. I’m not sure what either one of them thought they were doing, just going to spring the news on him without putting any thought into it, I guess.  Yes, they shouldn’t hide it from him, but the reveal can wait until morning until they can figure out a plan to confront Eda and force her hand or whatever else they need to do. 
Those final moments were intense, the dramatic effect they were clearly going for was there.  It was such a relief to hear Kiraz tell her mother how she had bonded with Serkan and gotten to know him.  That girl is smarter than the rest of them combined, I wouldn't be surprised if she knows. Or at least hopes; there’s a reason she’s so attached to him and that she wanted him to be able to find them. However, it would have been much more impactful if we’d actually seen those moments. Either in real time or as flashbacks when Kiraz is talking. I’m not sure why they didn’t do that. 
The final scene struck the right emotional chord for such a heavy confession, and I’m very anxious to see what happens next! 
Anonymous asked: Hello, Liza:) What are the things you liked most and least in the episode?
Let’s see...
LIKED
Scenery - The visuals of this season are stunning.
Hande & Kerem - They both continue to delivery great performance and their chemistry is always on fire. They transform every scene given to them to a winner. They were particularly good in the bottle scene. 
Edser - I watch this show for their scenes and even when there’s a huge lie and secret between them, their scene are always fun to watch.  Loved Serkan suddenly playing aloof after the kiss and loved that Eda couldn’t leave him alone. 
Kiraz/Maya - What a joy she is to watch. This could have gone so wrong with an overly precocious child, but she’s so cute and she plays so well off not only Hande and Kerem, but everyone she works with. 
Kiraz/Serkan - Every second they’re on screen together is wonderful.  PS -  All I want from this show is after Kiraz finds out is for her to fasten herself to Serkan koala-hug style and just refuse to let go. 
The paternity hijinks -I know, I know, there was too much time spent on supporting characters this episode, but there was some funny stuff when it came to Engin, Erdem, Aydan and Seyfi trying to sleuth their way to the truth. I actually found the mistaken toothbrush to be funny. Come on, Engin, you don’t know your own kid’s toothbrush? I also enjoyed the little nod to shattering gender stereotypes. The melodrama of them believing Engin was the father and accusing him of betraying both Piril and Serkan was dumb but hilarious. Then it got even better with the four of them wrestling each other in slow mo to try to get to the lock of hair first... I laughed out loud. 
Pina/Kerem - Cuties. Poor things, they’ll also have to overcome meddling relatives, misunderstandings and miscommunication.  I also liked Pina figuring out that Serkan is in love with Eda. 
Liked... less
Screen time - I felt the lack of Edser screen time this week. We need more Edser! Much more.  It feels like they are not taking the opportunity to let their scenes breath. Each interaction is so short. Hopefully, once we’re past the secret keeping portion they can elongate some of their scenes and not always have one of them rushing away. 
Production quality - While there were some beautiful shots this episode, there were a few scenes that were lackluster when it comes to the efforts of the crew. The pool scene is one. I get that they probably planned to shoot that outside in Sile, but  weather got in the way and they ended up shooting at an interior in Istanbul, but still, the angles were cramped and they did not make the most of having both Hande and Kerem in the water. Plus they cut the shot of Serkan walking towards her, shirtless and smirking. WHY?  
Additionally, the camera angles and editing on the fainting scene were pretty subpar.  We got a better view of that scene from the fan hiding behind a wall with an iphone! From said fan we can see that the crew would have had plenty of room to move and to get proper angles, but instead we got a 30 second scene where they didn’t make use of the setting, the camera was so zoomed in you couldn’t see anything and still their faces were pretty obscured.  Not Altan, Hakan and crew’s best work, that’s for sure.
Eda’s lies, tests and leaving - I chronicled this above, but the show isn’t doing her any favors. I think the writers think they are making her sympathetic (they are to a certain degree) but it’s not enough to justify her behavior. I’m really excited to get past this phase and hopefully to one where she’s not trapped in lies to the people she loves most.
Ayfer - Can she stay in Sile when the action moves back to Istanbul? Or better yet go back to Italy? She is absolutely insufferable and when she was smugly smiling and telling Serkan he’d missed Eda I wanted to slap her across the face. At least Eda finally got tetchy with her when she was continuously pushing her towards Burak. Eda was right! Burak can see that Eda isn’t interested in him, why can’t Ayfer and Melo see it?
Burak - Seriously this dude has the charisma of a paper weight. I still can’t wrap my head around him thinking he has a shot with someone like Eda. And what was his little squirmish with Serkan? Like, dude, you have no idea of the history and dynamics at work, you also have no idea who you’re dealing with, but if you’re going to start something at least see it through. Instead he slinks away after making a few haughty remarks under his breath. Real tough. So far he’s not good enough for Melo, so I don’t know how they’re going to make him interesting enough for her. 
Anonymous asked: hi! do you like how Serkan's character shown this season? tbh I expected at least some of his pov explained, not just "we don't need to have kids, Eda," "my work is my only responsibility," etc. As to his "infamous" line in the fragman, I hope it is taken out of context and will lead to a meaningful conversation between EdSer about Serkan's genuine fears (cause c'mon, finding out that you have a 5-year-old kid is kinda overwhelming), but I don't trust writers anymore lol. They keep picturing Serkan as a bad guy. How do you think he will react and act in the next epi?
I don’t think they are depicting him as the bad guy. I mean are you walking away from the episodes thinking he’s the bad guy? I’m not. In the flashbacks, there were some when he was upset and angry and clearly they’ve let us know he’s the reason they separated, but it’s also been clear that there’s more to the story we just haven’t heard it yet. 
Agreed that we’re over due for his POV and an explanation of why he did what he did, but I have to assume it’s coming in the next episode. In that episode he’s going to be grappling with a pretty huge thing, he’s just learned a secret that will turn his life upside down. And as anxious as we’ve been to find out why he broke up with Eda, learning he’s a father is probably the perfect time to flashback and tell us why he abruptly decided he didn’t want a family with her all those years ago and set all of this in motion.
There has to be a reason, and I think we’ll find out this week. If we don’t, then the writers will have pushed it too far. However, Ayse answered a tweet a few weeks ago saying that she loved Serkan as much as Eda and that he has reasons too. So fingers crossed we find out what those reasons are sooner rather than later. 
Anonymous asked: so I've really tried to remain neutral here because I know they both had their reasons during the breakup but in this last episode, Eda kinda rubbed me the wrong way and while sure it was her right to tell Serkan the secret, I was rooting for Aydan and Engin to do it by the end because she really was about to escape town without saying anything until our sweet Kiraz spilled last minute. I didn't care who told him at that point, I just needed SOMEONE to!
This is an understandable reaction.  The writers really did Eda no favors this episode.  I guess this episode was her journey to accepting the fact that Serkan is back in her life and will need to know about their daughter. And her daughter deserves to know about Serkan. She’s been living a huge lie for 5 years, so it’s a bit understandable that she’s having trouble letting it go. They just got a little clumsy telling that story. 
But we love Eda, we won’t hold it against her, will we?
Anonymous asked: Can we talk about how this 5-yr-old girl is the one who understands Serkan the most? and they just met? and they don't know they're related? she wanted him to find her?!?!! and when Eda tried to tell her that Serkan didn't care about her, she gave the best clapback and defended her dad. 👏 She is the true hero of this love!
She is the true hero of their family!  Leaving her shoe for him to find, being able to articulate to her mother how he really did take an interest in her, got to know her, and even confided in her. Smart girl. She was able to see what her mother could or would not. 
Kiraz does seem to understand him and his gruffness doesn’t faze her at all, on the contrary she just stands up to him and gives the sass back to him. Like I said last week, he challenges her in a way she’s not used to because all the adults in her life just let her run wild with little discipline or accountability and just give her whatever she wants. But she also challenges him in a big way, and in the next episode I think we’ll see him facing her existence as the biggest challenge of his life. 
The scene when Serkan teaches her how to apologize (the irony!) and make amends was especially great. As we saw in the season premiere when Burak was dismissive and haughty with a customer rather than rightly reminding Kiraz to apologize for knocking over Serkan’s water, Kiraz, as I said above, is surrounded by adults that dote, but think she does no wrong so they don’t always model proper behavior. What a relief to see a contrite Kiraz and Serkan being patient and taking the time with her. And the hug! Awwww. “Are we really strangers, Serkan Bolat?” was a perfect line.
Anonymous asked: Heey! What are your thoughts on the fragman? Cause now I'm a bit afraid to watch the next ep... but I think Serkan can be understood; like day ago he told Eda that they didn't need kids, so I guess it would be weird if he was all excited to know that they have a daughter. But idk... I just want Kiraz to have her dad back with her, she wants him so much!!! and the girl is so smart, like I know that is unlikely, but I think she figured it out on her own that Serkan might be her dad! Offf, I love her. I just hope Serkan's "I'm not ready to be a dad" is in the first half of the epi, and then it is him being afraid but doing his best to get close to Kiraz cause we already saw how he liked her. After all, it seems like the end of the epi will be Kiraz's b-day, and Nesli said that the end will be very sweet and emotional.
I think the next episode is Serkan’s story of becoming a father, and by the end of the episode we’ll see him stepping up and accepting his role and hopefully fully embracing it. 
We’ll see how he reacts but at some point he obviously says, “I’m not ready to be a father.”  I just hope it’s more, “I’m not ready to be a father, so let’s hold off on telling Kiraz for now” and not “I’m not ready to be a father, so I’m planning on ghosting the both of you.”  My guess is that scene is maybe midway through the episode? Like maybe he finds out, freaks out, then he decides it’s too much right now, and says that to Eda, but by the end he figures out his business and thus the sweet and emotional ending. I mean what else could a sweet and emotional ending be for an episode about Serkan finding out he’s a father?
We also know from the IG live on premiere day that Kerem was out of sorts and in a bad mood after filming an “intense” scene for this episode, and that Hande’s hair in that live matches her hair in the “I’m not ready to be a father scene.” So that’s either the scene or a scene probably before or after it on the same day, so I think we’ll need to emotionally prepare to be put through the wringer. However, I don’t think there’s anything to fear in watching it. This season’s storyline is about them becoming a family, so just remember that’s what’s going to happen
As for Serkan’s mindset, it’s understandable if at first he feels overwhelmed and not up to the job. This is a man who did not have a good father role model, doesn't think he’s worthy of love, and finding out Eda had their child and didn’t tell him is going to make him think that Eda doesn’t think he’s worthy either. Think of that from his perspective, he might have pushed her away and said he didn’t want children, but she is the one who decided that their daughter would be better off not knowing him. At least that’s how he’s probably going to take her secrecy, and I can’t really blame him for that. That would be a blow to anyone, but Serkan Bolat will take it especially hard. After all she actually loved him and knew him best, so if that person doesn’t think he’s fit, that’s not going to help his confidence or allow him to think he has anything to offer a child. 
Obviously he’ll come around and quickly in the scheme of things, it’s just going to take approximately 2 hours for him to do it. 
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the-currian · 3 years
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Finally emptied my askbox!
Well, to be more accurate, I finished all my requests. The askbox ate the original ask, so shoutout to the anon who wanted Hisoka angst!
“I don’t know if I can trust you.”
Hisoka x Reader
It was insidious.
At first your curiosity was small. Harmless. When you heard the up-and-coming Mankai Company was having an act-off against the famed God Troupe, you knew that you had to catch both their performances. God Troupe’s performance was flashy and impactful as always, and while the leads of Mankai had a subtle flair of their own, it was one of their supporting cast members that truly caught your eye. You were captivated by his unique stage presence. He appeared confident and secure in his acting but underneath it all you could sense a hint of sadness that drew you in further.
To your shock and utter delight, he plays one of the leads in his sub-troupe’s next play.
“Hisoka…” you whisper to yourself as you trace the actor’s name on the flyer you received.
His gaze pierced straight through your heart, leading you to make an impulsive decision. Quickly scrounging up what leftover funds you had for the month, you resolve to attend all of their performances.
Watching Hisoka act night after night onstage makes your heart bleed for this man that you hadn’t even officially met. Again, you resonate with the melancholic aura that he gives off. It’s silly, really – the most interaction you’ve had with him was at the end of each play when the actors went to the lobby to personally thank and see their patrons off, yet there was just something so hauntingly beautiful about the man, and before you knew it you were drawn in deep.
You wanted to know more.
Days pass after the play’s closing night and you feel as if you’re in a drought – deprived of your favorite muse.
‘Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe I should just keep this admiration as a fan, after all.’
Trying to lift up your spirits, you visit a newly opened cat café. As you walk through the doors, a paw-shaped bell gently chimes and a smile blooms on your face. Immediately, you are comforted by the mellow atmosphere that the establishment exudes. While you take your time to observe the café, a white Japanese bobtail cat walks up to you and gently nuzzles your leg, trying to grab your attention. You slowly squat down to pet the feline and it purrs at your touch.
“Welcome.” a familiar voice greets you sleepily.
Looking up, you yelp in surprise and fall onto your bum at the realization that the worker in front of you is Hisoka. Unperturbed, the fluffy cat you were petting moves over to plop down into your lap.
“Marshmallow.” Hisoka chides lightly, picking up the fur ball and cradling it in his arms. “You’re not supposed to play with the customers until they’ve gotten a table.”
The cat mewls lowly in response, and your heartbeat quickens at the affectionate smile that spreads on Hisoka’s face.
“I’m surprised that Marshmallow has taken a liking to you so easily.” He mumbles, shooting you a curious glance. “Anyway, please follow me to sign a waiver for playing with the cats.”
You quickly read through the document and sign the paper without fuss. Hisoka looks over it and nods before leading you to a table low enough for you to interact with the cats but still kneel comfortably.
Somehow, amidst your internal freak-out, you manage to address Hisoka, “Do you have any recommendations?”
His eyes immediately light up and you find his giddiness to be infectious as he lists several suggestions. “The hot chocolate with marshmallow crème is good. So is the s’mores cupcake – they put a giant toasted marshmallow on top. Oh, but the chocolate marshmallow mousse is also one of our best-sellers…”
You stifle a laugh and scratch the ears of the fluffy white cat in your lap. “I take it that you’re the one that named Marshmallow, then?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I get carried away again? The manager says I need to work on that. Something about how not all people would want to eat marshmallows when they’re here, which is ridiculous.” Hisoka mutters the last sentence under his breath, but you still manage to catch what he says and find it quite endearing paired with the pout on his face.
“It’s fine. Those all sound amazing, and I’m going to be here awhile, so I’ll have those three that you mentioned.” You say with what you hope is a reassuring smile.
“Okay. I’ll be back with your marshmallows soon.” He quirks a shy smile before heading back to the kitchen with your order.
Once he’s out of sight you let out a huge sigh, grabbing at your chest, willing your heartbeat to slow down. As if sensing your distress, Marshmallow meows loudly and rubs his head against your hand.
“Alright, alright.” You murmur in a placating tone and obligingly scratch behind Marshmallow’s ears. He makes a satisfied chirping noise in response. Minutes pass by as you absentmindedly pet the cat while you take in the café’s ambience.
Hisoka returns with a serving tray full of marshmallow treats as promised, and your mouth waters as he sets them on the table. You turn your gaze away from the table to thank Hisoka but find that he is also transfixed on your food. A pout appears on his face and the gaze in his eyes as he regards the marshmallows is almost longing.
Mustering up your courage, you ask, “Um… would you like to join me? I kinda just realized that this is way too much for me to finish by myself…”
Hisoka’s gaze locks onto yours, his expression the liveliest you’ve ever seen off stage. “You sure?”
Brain short-circuiting over how adorable he looks, you only barely manage to nod back.
“Hold on.” Hisoka says, rushing off to the kitchen with an unnatural speed. Before you can really process the interaction, he’s already back at your table and kneeling opposite from you. “My manager said I can take a break for a short while since there’s not too many customers right now. Thanks for sharing your marshmallows…” he trails off. Realizing you forgot to introduce yourself, you immediately do so.
He softly smiles in return. “My name is Hisoka Mikage.”
“Ah, I have to confess that I already knew that.” You laugh nervously. His eyes narrow at you in suspicion, and you honestly don’t blame him. However, the dangerous aura he suddenly exudes has you recoiling a bit. “I, uh… I’ve seen you act before in the Mankai Company.”
His demeanor relaxes ever so slightly at your explanation, but you can tell he’s still on edge.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just that I’m a big fan of your acting and I can’t really believe that I’m seeing you outside of your show runs.”
Still, Hisoka remains silent, staring at you coolly from across the table. Wordlessly, you slide over the chocolate marshmallow mousse to his side as a sort of placating gesture. Hisoka’s eyes narrow even further, squinting at the dessert as if it had personally offended him.
“Is this a bribe?
“…Is it working?”
Hisoka puts a spoonful of the mousse into his mouth and hums thoughtfully as he takes his time to savor the flavor. Seconds pass agonizingly slow before he simply nods at you.
“Apology accepted.”
You feel as if a huge weight is lifted off of your shoulders.
From that day forward you get to know more about Hisoka Mikage, rather than Hisoka the Winter Troupe member of Mankai Company who you so ardently idolized.
And so what if you still idolized him for that? It’s not like it took away from the real affection you had for him as a friend.
‘Only as a friend.’ You think to yourself glumly.
You were thankful for his friendship, really. After that day you two officially met, you frequented the café quite often. In return, Hisoka would set aside his break time for whenever you stopped by. Your relationship had gotten close enough that he felt comfortable resting his head in your lap. You always teased him for this, calling him a “cuddle monster that can only be satiated by naps and marshmallows”. Hisoka has no qualms with this and completely accepts his role.
However, despite the progress you’ve made, you could sense that there’s a barrier he always had up. You could tell that he was trying but there were times that Hisoka would get a faraway look in his eyes as the two of you lazed about. It was during these moments that you felt so close but still so far from him.
One day, he decides that the two of you should hang out at a beach – which is frankly quite ridiculous given the season. Within the first few minutes of arriving, Hisoka remains silent, so you decide to tell him as such.
“So… what’s the reason for taking to me to the beach on this cold winter day?” you joke, trying to lighten the heavy aura Hisoka exudes.
His eyes suddenly snap over to yours as if broken out of a reverie. Just as you’re about to let it be – Hisoka gets into these moods at times, after all – he replies.
“This beach is a place I’ve only shared with my troupe members; it’s a significant place to who I was – to who I am. You’ve become an…” he pauses, mulling over his words carefully. “…important person to me. I can’t explain it, but there’s something about you that makes me feel safe. But–“
Filled with a surge of affection at his words, you blurt out, “Would you like to maybe make this official?”
Hisoka stares at you incomprehensively.
‘Hell, I’ve gotten this far already.’ You think to yourself, thoroughly embarrassed, but determined. ‘I may as well let it all out.’
“I’m sorry if I’m coming on too strong, but this has been on my mind for a long while. Ever since we met at the café – maybe even long before that, when I first saw your acting,” You give him a watery smile. “I was so intrigued by you. I always felt like there was something that just drew me to you. You can’t believe how ecstatic I was that we were able to become friends. But lately, it just hasn’t been enough for me. I’m sorry. I’ve fallen for you.”
Your eyes squeeze shut, scared to see his reaction.
“I love you, Hisoka. If you’ll have me, I’d like the chance to make you happy as your friend, but even more so as your partner.”
Seconds tick by, your anxiety skyrocketing in the silence, when Hisoka’s words strike straight through your heart.
“I can’t.”
“…Oh.” Your voice cracks, tears welling up in your eyes at his rejection. “I see. I totally get it. Don’t worry, you don’t have to be obligated or anything because of my feelings. I’m sorry – “
“Wait.” Hisoka cuts you off then makes a frustrated noise. “It’s not you, I promise.” He grabs your arm causing you to freeze in place, preventing you from making your escape. “It’s not fair to you. I know it isn’t, but…”
“But?” you prompt.
“I don’t know if I can trust you.” Hisoka mumbles, head bowed low, unable to look you in the eye. “…and it kills me.”
He takes a deep breath before continuing.
“There are things that I’m still trying to figure out for myself – things I’m still trying to figure about myself. To drag you into it would be selfish of me. You don’t deserve that.”
“And if I said I didn’t care?” you sob. “What if I told you that I want to help you through it?”
Hisoka makes a pained expression at your words, letting go of your arm as if he was burned. He returns back to his shell that you so desperately tried to pull him out of. “I couldn’t ask you to do that. This is my burden to bear… I’m sorry.”
And just like that, he walks away.
The next day you go to the café where you first met. You pet Marshmallow when he comes over to you as you take a seat at your usual spot, but Hisoka never shows up.
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lumoshyperion · 3 years
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hi I'm really intrigued by your AU ideas! I was wondering for the Hamlet AU, is Albus Hamlet? Does that mean Harry has been murdered?? 😱 I can't wait to know more about it!
Oh my gosh, thank you so much! 😭 That means a lot, because I know how niche and weird they all are, and I wouldn't be offended if people were like "this is too weird for me" and dismissed the ideas 😂
I should have specified, but it's not a direct adaptation of the play, it's actually a muggle university AU where they're putting on a production of Hamlet! It's an avenue for me to express my love for both theatre and this play, basically? Albus is playing Hamlet - usually he only works in lighting and design, but he happens to be at a rehearsal for the Hamlet and he reads for the lead (which they hadn't cast yet) and he's so good that they offer him the role? He's no actor and he doesn't want to be an actor, but he has this immense empathy that makes it so easy for him to relate the character? And beyond all that he just... loves the play, a lot. The rest of the cast is filled out by minor characters from Cursed Child, with Karl as Laertes, Polly as Ophelia, Astoria as Gertrude, and Scorpius as Horatio. Astoria is also directing, with Rose as assistant director and stage manager. Yann is a dance student, who is doing their fight choreography. And Craig is doing the design for the show, and also working the lighting desk etc. It's a very obscure AU with lots of theatre references that people won't understand - and, on top of that, they're putting on a Shakespeare. And I've been studying his works for years, so sometimes I forget that a lot of people don't understand it or don't want to understand it because they had terrible high school experiences. I can't mention Shakespeare in friendly conversation without someone saying "I don't get Shakespeare". So this AU is like... almost incomprehensible, but it makes perfect sense to me and I'm having a lot of fun with it and that's what counts?
Anyway, thank you for this ask! I hope you're having a lovely week! ❤
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raat-jaaga-paakhi · 4 years
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(D)Evolution of Rukmini-Harana
This I wrote while brainstorming in the beginning of this month to centre my brain on what we know of Rukmini, so I could write her with (dis)regard to the texts. And what I found out in my Ruk-foray, was simultaneously intriguing and repelling. Tagging my Mahabharata people, if you want to go on Rukmini’s journey through the scriptures and the later kavyas (ancient fanfiction, guys) and don’t mind my snarky commentary in between as I try to be as analytical as possible (Warning: Strong Opinions and Wtf Moments!) – @avani008 @parlegee @incurablescribbler @shaonharryandpannisim @ambitiousandcunning​ @glyphenthusiast​ @mayavanavihariniharini @allegoriesinmediasres @walburgablack​ @jigyask​ @heyifinallyhaveablog @1nsaankahanhai-bkr from the top of my head. Under the cut, for this is detailed. 
Mahabharata
Rukmini-Haran legend is outlined in several places: that Sabha scene we all seem to love unanimously, Krishna-Draupadi in exile, Arjuna describing Krishna’s feats, and in Udyoga parva when Rukmi comes to help in the war. Other times, she is mentioned as mother of Pradyumna (in fact, Pradyumna’s name is mostly replaced by “son of Rukmini”). Only details being: Rukmini was meant to be Shishupala’s, Krishna came, abducted her, fought off Rukmi who had taken an oath to not return without killing him, Rukmi builds Bhojakata due to his defeat. Rukmi is mentioned a few times to have learned battlecraft from a kimpurusha Druma (whose name is often written as Drona, eliciting confusion between Dronacharya of Hastinapur), from whom he gets Indra’s bow which is said to be equal to Gandiva and Sharnga.
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- BORI CE Mbh, Translated by B. Debroy.
He comes with an akshauini to Pandavas’ camp where he is welcomed warmly enough, until he opens his big mouth and says, “Dudes, if you all are afraid of the Kauravas, I can help!” Insert big, smug smile. Krishna is present, but silent. Arjuna speaks, reminding Rukmi that he sought no help from anyone at multiple times (he goes harcore here *grins*), and wouldn’t need the same now, esp. from one like him. Disappointed Rukmi goes to Duryodhana’s camp where he’s rejected for, er, being the Pandavas’ reject and for his big mouth. Yeah. He, like Balarama, remains neutral. (Interesting that it’s Balarama who kills him, later.)
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- BORI CE Mbh, Trans. By B. Debroy
There is no letter, no mention of a swayamvara, no love, nothing, sticking to Mahabharata’s rather dry style, which if stripped of its mystical elements would be a cold, clean historical narrative.
Apology: I am not giving any more screenshots (except for Bhaagavat, because it has some rather nice parts), for this would become…far too long to handle for even me. I promise you can take my word for it. 
Harivamsa
Considered an “appendix” (khila) to Mahabharata, it contains the legend of Rukmini in the greatest of details. @parlegee​ would love to hear that her fic kalyanakirti, where Rukmini and Krishna have an early meeting before the letter and all, does have some solid basis. The legend in narrated in two separate parts: swayamvara and harana. Sadly, the first part doesn’t get into the BORI CE Harivamsa, but that is made understandable by Dr. Bibek Debroy, who comments the Harivamsa editing is indiscriminate and lacking in quality w.r.t. cutting down events, as compared to the precise and thoughtful editing of Mahabharata proper, at the very beginning of his translation. Thus, the omission, I guess. I am giving a rundown for this is what we will refer back to as we compare the later versions. (For reference, go to Mahabharata Resources online.) 
Swayamvara part – 
Rukmi arranges for Rukmini’s swayamvara, calling his boys and excluding Krishna (ofc), of which Krishna gets wind and arrives in class with Garuda. He is welcomed—notedly not by the king, as opposed to rules of hospitality—by his relative/father Kaisika, outside of the capital of Vidarbh in Kaisika’s own city.
Quite strangely, Kaisika and his brother Kratha offer Krishna their city; there is even some messenger fanfare with Indra.
Comment: This seems like something of an interpolation to me (it’s politically and intellectually stupid okay – why would krishna need to abduct rukmini with such pains if a part of vidarbha was already his. he could have been more politically subtle and all. it’s just horrible statesmanship­), and part of the avatar-vaad or “make Krishna a god so that we can cloak his philosophies and ideas with the veil of god’s incomprehensible lilas so that no one can hope to emulate him and his decidedly non-brahmanical approach, and so they wait for his next appearance while the world burns” propaganda. Shut up, Medha, you’re going to be killed for this. Nah, brain, I will speak my truth.
Meanwhile, Jarasandha and his cronies come to know of Krishna’s arrival, get “afraid” and there is this huge-ass, strange, contradictory conversation. Jarasandha and Sunitha (read: shishupala. yeah, boi had this other, nicer name) are primarily of the view that Krishna is gonna fight them, while Dantavakra (hm, isn’t he another of krishna’s cousins?) opposes that. Shalva and the others also expressed their ideas. The exact point of this conversation is highly inscrutable because, (not) strangely, the conversation is shrouded by them praising and glorifying their arch-enemy as the “lord of the universe” and what-not. (wut? why do you all constantly fight him if you know “who he truly is” and so on? are you masochists, guys – i am seriously concerned. your opponent is apparently vishnu yet you go on fighting him knowing you’re gonna be defeated. what’s the point? medha, stfu) I mean, a professional, grudging admiration for a fellow warrior is fine, good even, but what’s this BS?
The next part is even more laughable, which I didn’t think was possible. They hear of Krishna’s “coronation” and except Rukmi, everyone attends it, even Jarasandha. Huh? Jarasandha who laughed in Krishna’s face in Mbh, called him a coward cowherd (love alliteration) outright so many times in both Mbh and HV . . . I don’t understand any of this. Is it fear for the one person you cannot seem to properly defeat? Are you trying to keep peace, because that’s ridiculous when you have gone on offence so many times. Is it that you are “honoured” to be part of such an important moment in your arch-enemy, who also happens to be “Vishnu’s poorna avatar”?
Then comes a truly interesting part – Bhishmaka and Krishna have a talk. Bhishmaka thinks it’s better to offer Rukmini to Krishna outright and that swayamvara is a stupid thing – whether it is this particular one Rukmi has arranged, or swayamvaras in general, is kinda unclear. For the sake of Bhishmaka, I will go with the first. He apologises to Krishna for not inviting him to the swaymvara for he is helpless against his ignorant son (I guess the ignorance relates to “the true form of Lord Krishna” here) and…hm, this is both exciting and…controversial? Krishna rebukes Bhishmaka quite strongly about letting Rukmi treat him as a doormat and what-not and I would be heart-eyes for he’s technically defending Rukmini in some weird, chauvinistic manner, but . . . is he? His tone is rather peculiar, if you read it. He ends his little tirade with saying that Rukmini is Lakshmi reborn and as such, meant only for him, and technically demands to dismiss the swayamvara. And then, he just…leaves with Garuda. Form your headcanons, guys. This is just too weird.
Bhishmaka is sweet-and-obedient little devotee now and does as he is told. Interestingly, this is before the formation of Dwaraka, for it is here, after the Rukmini’s swayamvara is postponed that Jarasandh and his cronies hatch the plot to use the foreigner Kalyavana to kill Krishna. (just now you attended the boy’s coronation ceremony, usually attended by allies and friends, and praised him as lord of all…make up your minds, guys)
Also, it is here that Rukmini makes up her mind to marry Krishna. Hm, a little meeting, particularly the one you wrote, Maya Di, is extremely likely!
Harana part –
After Kalyavana’s death, Jarasandha’s failure and Dwaraka’s formation, Jarasandha decides to have Rukmini married to Shishupala, just like that. Here is also said that Rukmi had gained celestial weaponry and the Brahmastra (woah!) from Druma and Parasurama respectively. Hm, looks like he was quite the excellent warrior. It isn’t specified if Parashurama only gave him the celestial weapons or taught him as well like he did with Karna – both are different things. But hey, why do people keep going to Parasurama specifically for Brahmastra? I feel bad for the big guy. [Also, here comes this strange issue, Parasurama is, by Karna’s words as well as popular perception, supposed to not hold any sort of guru-ness towards Kshatriyas, which is why the latter had to lie in order to learn from him, considering Suta is an inferior division of the main Kshatriya varna. But that’s topic for another day, Medha.]
Okay, so it is mentioned that Rukmini and Krishna both longed for Krishna, and though there’s no dialogue, it appears that Rukmi knew of this, for the text goes on to say why Rukmi won’t accept this marriage – his enmity with Krishna due to the latter killing his friend Kamsa who also happened to be son-in-law of beloved Jarasandha etc. The text says that with Jarasandha and Shishupala, also came the allied kings Dantavakra, Paundraka, and the kings of Anga and Vanga. [This…is markedly curious. Surely by this time in the epic, Karna was crowned Angaraja? For it not to be so, Krishna would have to be much, much older than the Pandavas, chronologically speaking, which is the headcanon of a popular modern writer Ashok K. Banker. But Yudhisthir and Bhima are considered Krishna’s elders many times in Mbh. There is also this strange friend/frenemy-ship between Karna and Jarasandha as they have a kind of stalemate in a fight and Jarasandha, pleased, offers Karna a city in Anga, Malinipuri, if I remember right. Does it mean that not all of Anga was under Hastinapur’s influence? Again, Medha, to dissect another day.]
Now, “to please their aunt” (Shishupala’s mother Shrutashrava), Krishna comes with Balarama and other Vrishni heroes, all welcomed by Kaisika and Kratha. Upon seeing Rukmini in her journey to pay obeisances to Goddess Indrani, Krishna, er, cannot control himself and decides to abduct her, in consultation with Balarama and others. To note that (i) even though the text expresses both their desires to be with each other, it seems like an impromptu decision to abduct Rukmini, almost as if in lust (at least, that’s what the text makes it sound like); (ii) there’s none of that “coming alone in a hurry after getting her letter” event, as per Harivamsa. He comes quite prepared, and even consults with the other Kshatriyas before going for it.
You know the drill now: Krishna abducts Rukmini as she finishes her prayers and Balarama defeats all the guards. Krishna then puts the responsibility of the war on Yadava heroes like Balarama, Satyaki, Kritavarma, Gada, Prasena (is this that same Prasena of Syamantaka incident?) etc. and sets out for Dwaraka with Rukmini. At all this, Jarasandha and his cronies Shishupala, Dantavaktra, Paundraka, kings of Anga (again!), Vanga, Kalinga and others decide to kill Krishna in a joint attack. There are small descriptions of these following duels – Satyaki vs Jarasandha, Akrura vs Dantavakra, Viprthu vs Shishupala. Shishupala, after being attacked by Atidanta, Gavesana and Brhaddurga (who are these people, gosh) kills Virpthu’s horses and beheads Brhaddurga. Balarama kills the king of Vanga and then attacks Jarasandha. All this results in the defeat of Jarasandha and his cronies.
Hearing this, Rukmi vows before Bhishmaka and if he can’t kill Krishna and bring Rukmini back, he won’t return to the capital Kundina. Note that the next part of his vow, bringing Rukmini back, isn’t mentioned in Mbh proper. He leaves, accompanied by Kratha (that devoted guy?), Amsuman, Srutarva, Venudari and Bhishmaka’s other unnamed sons.
Rukmi sees Krishna-Rukmini standing on the banks of Narmada (aw, what are these two love-birds doing on a riverbank, that’s so romantic… Medha, stop). [Also, as I argued with someone on Quora, had it been a forcible abduction, without Rukmini’s consent in any way whatsoever, considering the letter is not in HV, they wouldn’t be standing there on a riverbank, resting and doing hell-knows-what. It’s a logical fallacy, sorry.]  
Seeing them together, he gets even more pissed and wants to kill Krishna in a dwairatha (dual chariot) fight. Cool stuff. Both archers fight. Krishna kills his charioteer and cuts off his chariot-banner. [What’s the thing with this? Why even bother? If you are making a statement then stop, we know who’s gonna win. Even if you didn’t win the fight, the texts would still claim you the winner. Medha, stop, you are supposed to love the man. Yes, the man, not the god men have created as a horrible substitute for the real thing. Why am I saying this now? This is a very normal archery feat if we see Mahabharata’s war parvas.] He defeats all the Vidarbhan warriors and kills many. Rukmi is not a doormat. He retaliates, cutting off Krishna’s banner as well (the garuda one! wow, boi), hurts both Krishna and his charioteer with his arrows. [Aw, and people say Arjuna only won his duels because of Krishna being his charioteer. Dude, look at this. I mean, these people straight out claim him to be God Incarnate and yet, they can’t completely smoothly modify a fight scene to suit their purposes – how sweet. Stfu, Medha.] Krishna then cuts Rukmi’s bow. [The Vijaya one? Surely Rukmi is not fighting such a serious fight without it. If so, wow. You just cut Indra’s prized bow – you really have a strong issue with the guy, don’t ya? Yeah, I feel you.]
Rukmi picks up another (here’s to perseverance), which Krishna again cuts off and crushes Rukmi’s chariot. Now Rukmi rushes at Krishna with a sword (gotta give, guy’s relentless) which Krishna cuts off and uses a sharp weapon called naracha on him which hurts him enough to render him senseless. The remaining soldiers run away. Rukmini’s pity aroused, she pleads for Krishna to spare her brother. Krishna lifts her up and reasures her (awww *waves shipping flag, completely ignoring the falling at his feet part*), then assures poor Rukmi of his safety (who seems to have woken up from his swoon by now, poor boy must have been so tired…why am I feeling so bad for Rukmi? I hate the guy! Btw, I can so imagine Krishna being cheeky here). He returns to Dwaraka with Rukmini, accompanied by Balarama and other Yadavas and his wedding his celebrated there.
There are no later versions of the legend in other texts that tally with the first part (swayamvara) seen in Harivamsa. There’s no love letter, no shaving hair-and-moustache. Let me tell you guys here only, for I don’t want to repeat this, there is no Madhavpur Ghed in the texts I have encountered (and they’re quite a bunch, as you’ll see).
Note: The evolution or composition of Mahabharata and Harivamsa are considered by old and modern scholars alike to have gone parallely, so the insertions of Rukmi’s details, his guru Druma, his bow Vijaya, etc. which seem to exactly match Harivamsa, may have been addded after that part of Harivamsa was written.
Vishnu Purana (about 300 BC-450 CE)
Rukmini-harana is narrated very shortly here, whereas in Harivamsa, it takes up a few chapters, being one of the most prominent parts of the text, as compared to Krishna’s marriage to his other wives. The entire swayamvara part, from Krishna’s “coronation” to the postponement of the swayamvara is missing here. From the harana part as well, Rukmi and his celestial weaponry, worship of Indrani, consultation with Balarama and other Yadavas before abduction, seeing Rukmini-Krishna along Narmada, details of the fights, aren’t present. Again, no love letter (though, even this extremely short version of a few mere verses speaks of Krishna and Rukmini’s mutual love), no shaving. However, it doesn’t deviate from the “original” in Harivamsa as well; it only clips away the details as if deeming them unnecesary in the larger context.
Matsya Purana (about 200-500 CE) mentions her among the Ashtabharya, here listed as – Rukmini, Satyabhama, Satya, Nagnajiti, Gandhari, Subhima, Shaivya, Lakshmana. [argh, we’ll talk about this later. just know for one that this is clearly not a very…right list, and not only in popular perception. jambavati isn’t mentioned; satya, nagnajiti, gandhari and lakshmana are having an identity crisis amongst themselves. basically, the text(s) is (are) only sure about rukmini and satyabhama. pardonable, for they happen to be krishna’s most famous wives. i feel so bad.]
Bhaagavat Purana (about 500-1000 CE)
Oh, yeah, this one is interesting. Unlike Vishnu Purana, Bhaagavat is all about the details. (reminds me of amitabh sir in badla every time i say this word.) There are omissions as well, for Rukmi and his celestial weaponry, Bhishmaka’s lineage, etc. are not mentioned. Let me go by points of difference only, since the main story has been explained in Harivamsa.
We get to hear the names of Rukmi’s younger brothers, only mentioned in HV – Rukmaratha, Rukmavahu, Rukmakesa, Rukmamali. We come to know Rukmini heard of Krishna from bards and decided he would be her perfect match. (Despite Bhaagavat’s devotional fervour that distracts from the main events, I love its version so much better in so many places.) Similarly, hearing of Rukmini’s knowledge and beauty, our boy pines for her. The relatives shipped Rukmini/Krishna as well, but only Rukmi seems to be against it, who arranges her marriage to Shishu. Learning of this, Rukmini sends a faithful old brahmin to Dwaraka with her message, who is received respectfully by Krishna. In her message, she…well, makes me fangirl. Interspersed between what seems to be fanatically devotional love for her “lord”, Rukmini calmly devises a straight and firm plan for him to follow, from the going to the temple of Girija (not Indrani, here) and the Rakshasa vivaha, telling him “not to worry” and all, and also adds a little…threat, in the end, that if he doesn’t do so, she will give up her life by fasting. Neat.
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- Srimad Bhaagavat Purana
Krishna, “in love and excitement”, says that he too has been spending sleepless nights pining for Rukmini. Aw.
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- Srimad Bhaagavat Purana
Added this to say, here’s the implicit metaphor of Jarasandha and his cronies being the kindling and Rukmini the diew generated by churning them. (Why am I thinking of Samudra-manthan?)
Here, Krishna doesn’t bring Balarama or any other Yadava hero with him, straight going to Kundina on his chariot with his charioteer Daruka and the brahmin, and apparently reaches within one night (which is realistically impossible, except if he had something like Pushpaka, which is not so here). There’s lot of description of pre-wedding things, where the only thing striking me is the phrase “Rukmini with fine teeth”. (I can just imagine her baring her teeth at Rukmi’s back, uff.) As Shishu sets out from Chedi with Jarasandha and his cronies who have developed a “stratagem” to kill Krishna, Balarama comes to know of the plot and sets out after Krishna with the Yadava heroes, moved by his affection for his bro. Exasperated elder brother, here he is.
A despairing Rukmini is informed by the brahmin of Krishna’s arrival in Kundina, she thanks him. Bhishmaka comes to know of Krishna and Balarama’s arrival, whereas in Harivamsa, it was Kaisika who welcomed them. There’s also this huge gathering of Vidarbhans to see Krishna and they decide that only he is fit for their princess. That’s so sweet. After worshipping Goddes Ambika/Girija, asking for Krishna to be her husband, Rukmini returns very slowly from the temple, her beauty so bewitching that a few kings “fall down from their horses, elephants, chariots”. Omfg! Lol. Krishna abducts her in presence of all those kings, who rebuke themselves and shower arrows upon Krishna, seeing which Rukmini laments in fear. Krishna consoles her, the Yadavas march against the kings; Jarasandha, Shishu and their friends have to flee to save their lives. No details are given, as compared to HV. Here, is a very interesting segment, where Shishu laments about having “lost” Rukmini and Jarasandha consoles him in a strangely fatalistic manner:
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- Srimad Bhaagavat Purana
Comment: Jara actually doesn’t sound insane or just fatalistic here, imo. He sounds...manipulative af. Don’t think that was the intent of the writers (more likely it was just to forwards the idea of fate and futility as opposed to true action), but that’s what it sounds like to me. Worthy opponent for Krishna, if you ask me.
Now, there’s that drill with Rukmi and his vow, except here, he’s said to have taken an akshauhini of men. When he sees Krishna-Rukmini (no Narmada river here), he verbally insults Krishna unlike prev. versions and then attacks him.
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- Srimad Bhaagavat Purana
(Even the abuse here is mild, compared to Mahabharata. I mean, think of the dice game, the Shishupala-vadha parva and so on! But still, Bhaagavat retains class, even as it propounds avatar-vaad, fatalism and fervent devotion.)
The description of battle here is more intense and long-drawn (compared to the main Yadava battle fought against Jarasandha and his cronies), with Krishna cutting down Rukmi’s banner, and then breaking three of his bows. Rukmi uses various kinds of weapons on Krishna – Parigha, Pattisa, Tomara, Camra, Shula, Asi, Shakti, etc. but Krishna remains steadfast in his defence. Rukmi then picks up a sword and rushes at Krishna; there’s no mention of Krishna having killed his charioteer and crushed his chariot. Krishna descends to thebsword-fight and brandishing his own, breaks Rukmi’s sword too. Now you know the drill, falling at his feet and all, our Rukmini. (Don’t roll your eyes, Medha.) Now...it’s in Bhaagavat we see the disfiguring first, Krishna deciding to give him some sort of light punishment, shaving off his moustache, beard and hair unevenly.
There’s another alteration here, that Balarama comes to see this and rebukes Krishna for humiliating a relative. Rukmini is apparently inconsolable and he offers Rukmini a patronising (if sensible philosophically in many places) discourse, starting with a more political note of “the conduct of Kshatriyas is hard and merciless where brother kills brother” and continuing with a lengthy philosophical lecture of the body and the soul, as in in tune with Mahabharata’s Gita, to a marginal extent. Rukmini attempts to calm down, and they return to Dwaraka. The marriage is well-described, with the addition of kings with intimate relations invited – from Kuru, Srinjaya, Kekeya, Kunti races and Vidarbh as well! Hm. Interesting. As is the inconsolable Rukmini, described earlier, which finds no mention in earlier (or a few later versions). Is it so hard to imagine a “difficult woman”, in Nikita Gill’s terms? Does she have to be a wilting flower, even though it breaks off from her prev. characterisation? I mean, she can sure be miffed at it, but for her to be so disconsolate that Balarama out of all people has to offer a huge-ass philosophical advice. Sigh. Basically, Bhaagavat more or less presents it attractively by way of supplying more materials to the story (the greatest and most landmark being Rukmini’s letter), even while it ignores some other details (like Narmada).
Brahmanda Purana (about 400-600 CE) doesn’t delineate the main legend, but Rukmini, the princess of Vidarbha, is mentioned as Krishna’s principal wife, along with the names of their sons and daughter.
Padma Purana (about 400-1600 CE)
Points of difference:
Brothers’ names apart from Rukmi not mentioned.
To fulfil her desire to marry her “lord”, Rukmini worships the gods from childhood itself and keeps sacred vows. Hm, yeah, go ahead.
Here, her brahmin is called the son of a purohita who is received by both Krishna and Balarama. Rukmini’s words in her message are not there anymore (a format which will be followed by every later version except the kavyas) as opposed to the beautiful plan in Bhaagavat and, they both set out for Kundina. No army of Yadava heroes accompany them.
Rukmini goes to the temple by her chariot rather than by foot, at evening, none of which is mentioned in prev. versions. After the abduction, it is Balarama who singlehandedly routs all the kings headed by Jarasandha, using his plough (Langala) and Musala (…the same weapon they use in the fratricidal war of Mausala parva, incidently; so it has some other source than that “curse” where Samva delivers this “new weapon” called musala).
There’s no mention of Rukmi’s vow.
When Rukmi attacks Krishna, he laughs and defends himself with his bow Saranga, a bow presented by Indra. Keeping with both HV and Bhaagavat, dear Krishna obligingly cuts of Rukmi’s bow, his banner, his charioteer’s head and crushes the chariot. There’s Rukmi with his sword, and Krishna with a sharp knife.
Interestingly, there’s no objection or plea or falling at his feet from Rukmini, but Krishna still doesn’t kill him, letting him go by his own free will. That doesn’t stop him from laughing and shaving the hair on his head, though. The beard and moustache are forgiven.
Despite not having taken the vow, apparently the humiliation is enough for Rukmi to built Bhojkata in Vidarbh outside of Kundina, keeping with all prev. versions.
No Madhavpur again. What’s interesting here, is that Nanda and Yashoda and other cowherds are present in the wedding in Dwaraka, unlike popular perception which says Krishna never met his adoptive parents after having left Vrindavana.
Skanda Purana (about 600-1200 CE)
It is narrated to Yudhisthir by Markandeya about the significance of some Rukmini teertha. Points of difference:
Rukmini’s mother is mentioned to be “Mahadevi”. This could also be a title, since queens were also addressed thus. Rukmini is said to be her second child, younger to Rukmi and elder to the other brothers, whose names aren’t mentioned.
At her birth, there is this prophecy about her marriage to this four-armed divine person by a bodiless voice, kinda like Kamsa’s akashvani. Sure, go on. Marry her to Krishna right as she’s born, why don’t you? It’s destiny after all. Can I add that the previous love affair between Rukmini and Krishna is also not mentioned. 
Damaghosha, king of Chedi and Shishupala’s father goes to Bhishmaka with a marriage proposal, more in accordance with a marriage as we see it now as compared to the prev. versions (where Jarasandha and Rukmi are instrumental), as also the prevalent nature of marriage of those days w.r.t. Mahabharata.
These two develop attraction to each other just prior to the abduction, in the vein of Harivamsa, but Harivamsa does speak of mutual pining long before the abduction. 
The brahmin messenger, the role or even the name of Jarasandha, Rukmi’s fierce vow – nothing finds mention.
Unlike prev. versions, Krishna and Balarama are invited by Bhishmaka to Rukmini’s marriage. No other Yadava hero is mentioned to have accompanied, similar to Padma Purana.
It brings back the river Narmada, where Rukmini and Krishna were resting and Rukmi stumbled upon them, which is only found farther back in Harivamsa.
Now, the battle with Rukmi gets interesting here. There is no archery or even swordfight; rather, Krishna takes his chakra to battle. Fearful, Rukmini asks Krishna to bless her brother with the “divine eye”. Krishna obeys, “pleased” by Rukmini. Rukmi’s ignorance taken away, he offers auspicious prayers to Krishna, who, pleased at the brother this time, blesses him and speaks “blissful words”. Rukmi happily goes back to Kundina. No Bhojkata, no insult, no killing or fighting.
Even the marriage isn’t celebrated in Dwaraka, but on the very banks of Narmada, in the presence of pious sages and other brahmins.
A long explanation of the significance of Rukmini tirtha is given in details, which we don’t find in prev. versions and which I have no energy to go over, for it isn’t significant to either the topic, or even Rukmini in general.
In a nutshell, Skanda Purana takes a decided and marked departure from the martial, the political and the more realistic, to the more mystical realms that have surrounded Krishna and his actions. Do we see a pattern here?
Brahmavaivarta Purana (about 700-1500 CE)
God, I hate this one so much. In a nutshell, guys, it goes several steps ahead of Skanda Purana and goes for a classic social marriage, as is prevalent nowadays. There’s no abduction, no Shishupala, no love, no resistance from Rukmi, no agency from either the bride or the groom. Nothing.
[Instead of Rukmini-harana, or even Rukmini-swayamvara, the headings become “Rukmini Udvaah Prastaav varnan” (description of proposal of Rukmini’s marriage) and then, “Rukmini Vivaahe Yuddham” (fight in Rukmini’s marriage). Credit where credit’s due, I learnt from an online friend about the Sanskrit titles.]
No message is sent by Rukmini, but a brahmin messenger does go with a proposal of marriage. He is sent by Bhishmaka instead of Rukmini. What’s more, the letter was addressed to Ugrasena, and it’s not Krishna, or even Balarama, who receives the proposal. It is Ugrasena, stepping into the limelight where before he had no role to play except that of a figurehead and a tortured father as per the texts.
In Kundina (described in detail for the first time, with the classic mahajanapada-style ditch around it), Krishna and Rukmini have a nice social marriage, presided over by all the elders and kings, with Bhishma, Drona, Duryodhana etc. and the Pandavas in attendance. Again, no mention of Jarasandha, but there’s a fight between Balarama and Shishupala, Dantavakra, Rukmi and Shalva, ending in a sorta mysterious, inconclusive defeat.
How interesting is it, that Brahmavaivarta is a text dedicated to, er, Radha-Krishna, an idea that didn’t exist until the Bhakti movement. So they just decide that no, such a daredevil mariage between lovers won’t do. It has to be society forcing these two together (rather than apart, as we see in Mahabharata et al), because it is Radha and Krishna whose relationship is against society, the rebellion of rebellions in the name of true love nd devotion, blah-blah. Forgive my tone, please, but I am pissed off, ‘kay?
The concerted effort to make everything in Krishna’s life, except Radha (oh, because they are the Supreme in Goloka, which is even above Kailasa and Vaikuntha, and nothing can separate them and all), socially acceptable because he’s their “God” who can do no wrong except if in “true love for Radha” (when the dude clearly rebelled against society any chance he got) is ridiculous. Esp. this! Damn, don’t make my girl into this insignificant little thing. Harivamsa and Vishnu Purana were silent about Rukmini’s letter too, but at least both mentioned clear attraction and interest between Krishna-Rukmini.
Digressing: Also, why is Krishna such a sap here, suddenly? Or why does the Radha-Krishna pairing (which originally symbolises the Jeevatma-Paramatma or devotee-god relationship,) need Krishna to chase her ceaselessly and for all his actions to lead up to her, despite him advocating being a man of action in the real world? I am sorry for being so vocal; it’s probably just my pent-up frustration from that horrible Radha-Krishna serial where this Krishna (gosh, I can’t even call him that!) finds a reason to cry every single time. I would have forgiven it had they cut off the Vishnu’s avatar perspective and kept only the lover boy part, but they keep it and they still make him a crybaby. What’s worse…at the times he should actually feel bad, he’s “calm” af, looking as if he has transcended every human emotion, and just patronises people. Such hypocrisy. Look, I have nothing against men who cry; in fact, it’s heartening to have men strong enough to embrace their emotions, esp. publicly; similarly, there is nothing wrong with suppressing them (apart from the mental health issues it generates, but we are no one to judge). But people, when you are making an omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient character…keep the BS consistent at least?! (Sorry, civility.) 
Agni Purana (about 800-1100 CE) only mentions Rukmini as one of the eight principal wives.
[Devi-Bhaagavata Purana gives a brief outline sticking to what’s known. It says that in Rukmini’s swayamvara, Shishupala is specifically invited (this is the popular notion, and what I personally believed too, and still find myself going for). Krishna, with Ugrasena’s permission (not mentioned in prev. versions; as opposed to consulting with his fellow warriors in HV), takes Rukmini in Rakshasa vivaha. It also mentions that he later married Jambavati, Satya, Mitravinda, Kalindi, Nagnajiti, Bhadra, Lakshmana. (Satyabhama is not present. She seems to have been confused with Satya, whose other name is Nagnajiti, princess of Kosala.)
Kalki Purana goes for this elaborate Rukmini vrata which grants desired husband to a lady as a fruit of the vrata, where Rukmini is accorded deity status alongside Krishna, seemingly for the first time (not considering the temples dedicated to both). A woman named Sharmistha (strangely similar to Sharmistha of Yayati, Puru’s mother, who too hankered after Yayati) offers oblations to Rukmini-Krishna, saying a prayer: “O Lord, offerer of boons, accept the camphor, molasses and sandalwood with your beloved Rukmini, princess of Vidarbha. O lotus-eyed one, possesor of pitambara and four arms, supreme of gods. Please be satisfied with me and protect me with Rukmini.” It’s far longer, but this is the gist. Is this still Krishna we are speaking of? Huh, all these rituals and Krishna don’t sit well.]
I have only been able to catch hold of so many texts, and of the others, Markandeya Purana (about 250-700 CE) and Shiva Purana (about 1000-1400 CE) do not even mention Rukmini. Mudgala Purana only says Lord Krishna had 16,008 beautiful wives and washes its hands off. 
Note: Mathematician and Vedic shastra writer Baudhayana cites Rukmini/Krishna as an example of Rakshasa vivaha.
Sanskrit Literature
So after the Puranas kinda close off the (d)evolution with turning such interesting stuff to the dry social marriage w.r.t. to the parallel evolution of Radha-Krishna, where the concept of Krishna shifted completely from a socio-political persona with mild godlike touch to become a complete love god (as also the lord of the universe)… Rukmini rises again in later literature, of what, by modern standards, would be ancient fanfiction. Lol. There are loads of poetic descriptions (think Kalidasa) that embellishes the narrative – for example, the beauty of sunrise described for paragraphs onto paragraphs. (Yeah, I skimmed those. I was too interested in some Rukmini action. Will appreciate the poetry later.)
References are made to the Rukmini-haran incident in Shishupala-vadham by Magha in around 600 CE, in the 2nd canto, where Balarama, Krishna and Uddhava are in conversation, planning to kill Shishupala. (I hate this.) The entire canto is full of controversial speeches. Balarama refers to Krishna abducting Rukmini from her swayamvara and defeating Shishupala as being the latter’s prime reason for animosity, saying things like “women are the root of all enmity”.
It is referred to in Bhavabhuti’s Malati-Madhav as well, a love story between Malati and Madhav (son of a Vidarbhan minister), where in a convo between friends, a lady says something like “Purushottama Krishna accepted Rukmini, the mother of Kandarpa (Pradyumna being considered Kama’s rebirth), at her self-choice (swayamvara) ceremony”.
There is Bhagavata-Champu (don’t laugh) by Ananta Bhatta before 1500 AD and Sri-Gopala-Champu by Jiva Goswami. Both show their retellings to be derived from Bhaagavata purana (I’m so glad). In fact, in some places, like Rukmini’s letter and Balarama’s consolatory speech after Rukmi’s humiliation, the lines (as per the translated hardcopy in my home) seem to have been picked up directly from Bhaagavata. So it must be that the original Sanskrit lines were as well. The only thing that differs in Sri-Gopala-Champu is the premise of the story. Two messengers from Krishna tell the story to Nanda, Rukmini’s attributes coming up in the conversation. Radha and her fellow Gopis are mentioned as being present and eulogised. (Can no one let my girl have a moment?) But I love these few lines from the convo. The listeners speak thus (not the exact translation, but I don’t have the book rn):
“Although a girl, she is very intelligent and brave.”
“Is she a girl?” (Omfg, I laughed so much at this)
“No, never. She is a tense female elephant.” (The comparison is aimed to be praising of the confident, slow gait of an elephant in Sanskrit poetry, not in the modern way a woman might be called en elephant. Warriors and great women hav often been compared to elephants. There also seems to be an oxymoron as she is described as being tense or edgy, perhaps an allusion to being cautious…Hm, the spy headcanon, @avani008​ and @allegoriesinmediasres​? *grins excitedly* Oh, we’ll take anything, won’t we?)
“She is fearless, because she is a princess.”
Intelligent, brave, fearless, cautious…oh yeah, all my personal headcanons too.
Other Sanskrit works are as follows, to the best of my knowledge, some gathered from my grandparents and some from friends. I don’t know if their online versions are available, will have to see.
Bhaismi-Parinaya-Champu by prolific poet Ratnakheta Srinivasa Dikshita (South India) around late 16th century. also based on the Bhaagavata version. His son, renowned scholar Rajachuramani Dikshita wrote the Rukmini-Kalyana-Mahakavya (flourished in late 16th and early 17th centuries), possibly one of the most important Sanskrit works on the incident. This one, I unfortunately haven’t read, but have heard about from my late eldest grandfather. Two whole cantos take up Krishna’s mental affliction and pining in a pleasure garden of Dwaraka at the thought of his beloved Rukmini. Aw. Basically, Sanskrit poetry used to be all about elaborate descriptions and comparisons which would veer far, far away from the context, which in these times would be considered redundant and unnecessary. I agree, sort of. I would rather read about political machinations, rather than devotional poetry that distracts us from the issue at hand, thank you very much. Stfu, Medha.
We have Parvati-Rukminiya by astrologer poet Vidya Madhav in late 17th century, which narrates two marriages at a time – Shiva/Parvati and Krishna/Rukmini. Rukmini-Parinaya was written by Ram Varman of Trivancore in the middle 18th century.
Rukmini-Haranam-Mahakavyam, by Kashinatha Sharma Dvivedi, was published first in 1966 AD. (This one, my eldest grandmother straight up read to me, Bengal-ising it while she read. It was arduous, but I was old enough to bear the long hours.) Here, we find a few deviations from Bhaagavat – We find a long description of Rukmini straight up from birth to youth (yikes, that’s what I was attempting to do in my Yugantaram fic). It’s not a lot of characterisation, though – mainly dramatisation, if I remember correctly. (Unfortunately, I don’t know if we have that book any more.) The second canto has a description of Narada, who comes to Bhishmaka’s court bearing Krishna’s tales, which we don’t find in prev. versions, and who appears in the first canto of Magha’s Shishupala-vadham as well. In the third canto, Rukmini, hearing all this, falls in love and is treated by the royal physicians and offered consolation by her friends. (Here’s to one of my best-beloved lines of Hema’s Meerabai, ‘Is love an affliction, that you can cure?’) The next four cantos dramatise and stretch this love-struck Rukmini – with lovely descriptions of the moon, the seasons, the royal garden, etc. The next three cantos describe Rukmini’s marriage being fixed to Shishu by Rukmi, her sending the brahmin messenger to Krishna, a vivid description of Krishna’s beauty (as a young gal, I fell in love with that, yeah, I know, sorry) and an equally beautiful description of the dawn (which may be compared to the description of dawn in Shishupala-vadham by Magha… people are really fond of poeticising political and social issues to hide their significance behind glamour. Medha, stop). In the next canto, Krishna begins his journey to Vidarbha with obeisance to Lord Shiva, which isn’t present anywhere else. It is worth mentioning that the poet also starts his epic poem with salutations to Shiva as well, and states that he composed the entire poem with the grace of Lord Shiva. There’s a lot more descriptions, along with the deviation of Rukmini being guarded on orders of Shishupala rather than those of Rukmi, but the skeleton is all Bhaagavat. Sharma Dvivedi has been inspired heavily by Magha. It stands that his Rukmini-Haranam-Mahakavyam is the most successful rendering of the legend.
It has come to my knowledge that there are other Sanskrit literary works on these two as well but…I just don’t have the energy, sorry. There is a time and place for poetry and devotional fervour. Let me just say, with absolute relish on my side, that it is the Bhaagavat version that is preferred by our predecessors unanimously and all the Sanskrit literature is based on that. Personally, my go-to is Harivamsa and Bhaagavat as well, especially since they have the oldest layers of puranic text. I mean, just imagine, if all later retellings had been based on Brahmavaivarta rather than Bhaagavat. There would be no Rukmini-lovers at all! I mean, the first love does start from the most popular version, after all. It never fails to intrigue me, how legends undergo these modifications, and none of it is a coincidence.
Much love,
Medha
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girlmeetsliv3 · 4 years
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Price of Prejudice
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~ Inspired by Pride & Prejudice ; Requested ~
Kim Seokjin is a man with the grace of a dancer, face of an angel, and enough wealth to keep several governments afloat. It is in his nature to be entirely narcissistic and classist - a man of his nature can afford to be. (There are few things that Seokjin cant afford.) When you're invited to the annual 'buja' ball, you hope to find an eligible bachelor to wed and live happily ever after with. What you end up with is a crazed man willing to do anything to have you bear his name and with a ring on your finger.
Trigger Warning: The following story contains mentions of manipulation and abusive acts. The behavior and mindset of the characters in this will be incredibly yandere and toxic. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~
Word Count: 5k
A/N: Please enjoy.
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“Have you heard? Surely you must have. It’s all over town.” Tzuyu whispered underneath the white sheets that covered both of you. The outline of her face could be seen through the candlelight that pierced through the comforter, but her beautiful features were hidden away. “You know I’ve never been one to focus on rumors. Not the boring ones at least.” The two of you giggled before hushing each other. Your mother was sure to throw a fit if she discovered the two of you still awake at this time. “A Mr. Jeon has come into town. Mother convinced father to invite him to the town ball.” Her smile was wide, smile lines forming and eyes lighting up with excitement. “Well then, we must make sure to look our best then. Shan’t we?” A silent agreeance formed between the two of you as another uncontrollable giggle escaped your lips. No wonder all your younger sisters had been so excitable this morning; not to mention your mother. Her nerves hadn’t calmed down since the last ‘suitable’ suitor Mr. Richards left the town several months ago. Taking with him any hope of marriage and salvation with him. Tzuyu poked her head from under the sheets and with a puff of her lips let out a soft wind that overpowered the candle’s flame, plunging the room into darkness. You let your eyes flutter shut as your body relaxed into the soft bed below. A brief thought passed through your mind, a fading one, as exhausting overcame you and sleep began to weigh you down until it dragged you to unconsciousness. I hope everything goes well tomorrow…please let me meet someone…
The entire day had been spent preparing for the ball. Corsets were tightened and your best ribbons were taken out to be worn tonight. Your mother had spent all morning coaching Yeri and Nancy on how to be ladylike and respectful – as if that could reel them in. Tzuyu had busied herself with planning her attire for tonight and you decided best to leave her to it; she carried the most pressure after all. So you found yourself strolling around the perimeter of the Longhorn estate with your head buried into the latest publishing of First Impressions. Your mother had previously warned you that you tended to get into your novels, but you tended to disregard her advice. Once you raised your head and saw that you had, in fact, walked all the way from Longbourn to Netherfield. Great just my luck. You had every intention of walking back until you noticed the carriage standing at the entrance of the estate. Walking closer you noticed the doors open and two gentlemen step out. Even from a distance, you could perceive how attractive they were from their saunter, posture, and clothing. One stood out far more than the other, his ragged hair being blown by the wind as the ruffles on his white muslin shirt lightly moved. He looked like something out of those ridiculous romance novels Nancy insisted on reading – a true dandy. Perhaps he was Mr. Jeon or a friend? It didn’t matter for you felt your feet pick up as you began to race home, anxious and anticipating meeting the mysterious man who was sure to appear at the ball.
A loud booster of music, conversations, and the tapping of shoes against the hardwood floor echoed around the wooden manor. Its infrastructure weary and old, but it was the only place in all of town that could manage to fit most of its inhabitants with room to spare. It was a snug fit, none of it mattered when the alcohol and adrenaline poured through everyone’s veins. Tzuyu, Nancy, and you have spun around and ‘wooed’ by the men you danced with. Each trying his luck, every so often all of you would make eye contact and laugh at your own private joke. One of the men was not aware of it. Your attention was captured by the man in front of you a Mr. Coleen or Collins, you couldn’t quite recall. Not much was distinguishable about him, except for his height. He was not short for a man, but he was much shorter than you. “Miss Bennet. That was a lovely dance. Almost as lovely as you look tonight.” You smiled, a politely bowed not missing the way your mother watched the interaction from the corner of your eye. “Thank you, Mr. Colleens. It was my pleasure.” He seemed enthusiastic about your response for he opened his mouth quite widely to speak but was interrupted by the doors opening.
Everything stopped at that moment. The crowd parting for the two men to walk through, you recognized them instantly: Mr. Jeon and his friend. Now at a closer range, it dawned on you that their beauty was incomprehensible, no image you conjured up in their mind could do them justice. Tzuyu nudged you slightly, the two of you bowing when they passed by you. You didn’t miss the way the shorter man’s eyes lingered on Tzuyu, a light flush adorning his cheeks. When they reached the center of the room, the music resumed as did the activities. “Girls. Girls. Come here.” Your mother beckoned you over, the four of you lining up beside her as she waited her turn to speak with the newcomers. “Oh, where is your father? I swear if he –” A sudden cackle resonated from the crowd in front of you, one that you could recognize anywhere. It seems your father had already made himself acquainted with Mr. Jeon and his friend. The three share a polite conversation. Not wasting any time, your mother pushed out the ladies in front of her dragging the four of you by the wrist like rag dolls. “Oh darling, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Her voice was pitched, it got that way when she lied. Your mother turned to the men before bowing, “My apologies. I didn’t mean to disturb your conversation, I’m Mrs. Bennet.” Then she turned slightly towards the four of you, “These are my daughters Tzuyu, Y/n, Nancy, and Yeri.” Both men responded to your greetings, though you noticed the dandy man did so cooly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all, I’m Jeon.” A bright smile spread his lips apart, making Mr. Jeon resemble a cute animal. Though he spoke in general, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes of Tzuyu. “This is my good friend, Mr. Kim.” Mr. Kim bowed politely, a hint of a smile on his lips.
Mr. Jeon and Mr. Kim looked like beings out of Thomas Gainsborough's paintings. Their beauty enrapturing, in every sense of the word. Though Mr. Jeon was attractive in his own right. There was something about Mr. Kim, be it his aura or demeanor, that drew you in. Your family excused themselves to allow the men to greet others, but Tzuyu and you hatched a plan to conveniently converse with them once more. “What if he doesn’t like me, Y/n?” Tzuyu stressed as she bit her lip anxiously, the skin turning white at the pressure she was exerting. “How could he not? You’re the most beautiful girl here. Not to mention he could barely keep his eyes off of you.” It didn’t take much to persuade Tzuyu, but it didn’t take much to dissuade her either. Tzuyu was as beautiful as the full bloom in the spring, but she contained all the delicacy of one too. “Don’t worry all will be well.” That statement was just meant as encouragement for your older sister, but for you as well. Mr. Kim was intimidating and from his aloofness, you could perceive he wasn’t fond of the environment he found himself in. All he needs is to feel comfortable. I’ll help. Tzuyu and you walked around the entirety of the room twice, engaging in mild conversation before coincidentally stopping at a spot right next to the two gentlemen. It was bait, you hoped one of them would latch on. Thankfully Mr. Jeon did. “Good Evening, ladies. I hope I’m not interrupting anything am I?” The delivery was charming, as was the way his eyes glowed with excitement whenever he spoke to Tzuyu. Her small one worded reply doing little to off put him.
The conversation between the four of you was more of a three-way: Mr. Kim simply stood there staring off into the distance as if wishing to be somewhere else. He appeared bored, even annoyed at moments. “Mr. Kim, do you dance?” It was a simple question, one you hoped would involve him in the discussion. All he did was stare at you before replying, “I try to avoid it when at all possible.” You could pick up on social cues easily, but there was something telling you to poke once more. “Why is that? I find dancing to be a necessary skill in life.” Mr. Kim raised his brow as if his interest was piqued. “Why is that?” You resisted every urge to smile teasingly at him, “Dancing allows for talking without words. A way to see if one is compatible with another, or simply as a means of merriment.” There was something unknown in his eyes, swirling around in the dark pool. It frightened as much as it intrigued you. You longed to know the man more until, “I’m afraid I don’t dance Ms. Bennet.” It was curt and monotonous as if he was scolding a child. A light scoff left your lips. “Very well then, I’ll find someone who does.” With that you walked off, leaving the group behind feeling eyes piercing into your back.
You felt satisfied with your response at the situation, as you sat down between the barracks letting your feet rest for a bit. Men like Mr. Kim often needed to be shown off their high horse, even if it was only for a second. Sighing, you leaned back against the wooden frame a small smile playing on your lips as you recalled how shocked he seemed at your response. Faintly you could hear multiple people conversing around you, but none that you found interesting, so you allowed them to fade to a buzz in the back of your mind. Until you picked up on two voices that had you turning around in your seat to ensure it truly was them. Between the crevices, you could clearly see Mr. Jeon and Mr. Kim talking unaware or uncaring about who listened in. “Doesn’t have a certain charm?” Jeon asked with his bunny smile on full display, it must be a signature of his when he was joyful. His companion, however, didn’t share in his delight, “If you were to find pauperess and no civility charming.” Your jaw slacked at Kim’s response. “Come on, it's refreshing. Not to mention all the beautiful women.” Again Kim remained stoic in his response, did he always look so miserable. “The only beautiful woman here was Ms. Bennet who you seem to have taken quite a liking too.” It was difficult to tell in low lighting, but you were certain Jeon shrugged whilst letting out a small giggle. Tzuyu would be so happy. She may be incredibly shy, but anyone could tell she liked him as well. “That isn’t true. Her sister Y/n is very agreeable.” A long pause was shared between them as the nerves swelled in your chest. “Barely tolerable if you ask me.” What an ass!
The rest of the ball had proceeded as normally, though you did catch Nancy and Yeri engaging in a conversation with several officers bordering on improper. They hadn’t enjoyed being scolded, but you somehow doubted they would learn their lesson. The two of them, especially Nancy, were desperate to be out into society even if Tzuyu wasn’t married yet. Not that you could afford to wait much longer, your father wasn’t getting any younger. Once he passed the house would be returned to the landowner, regardless of his female heirs. The only way to save the estate is through marriage – a strategic one at that. Mr. Jeon represented all that and so much more to your mother, but you were glad the two seemed to like each other. That’s all one could hope for. Eventually, the night drew to a close and one by one people began to dissipate. Your parents and younger sisters preferred to travel home by carriage, Tzuyu and you walked enjoying the warm night breeze. Sensing your discontent, Tzuyu offered up some kind remarks. “Think about it this way, if he liked you that means you would have to talk to him.” A small smile tore through your chagrin expression. “That’s true. Now I won’t ever have to deal with Mr. Pompous anymore.” The two of you laughed walking hand in hand. “Still Mr. Jeon looks like a good man.” Tzuyu nodded enthusiastically, “He is? Isn’t he? He’s an amazing dancer.” You valued your sister. Despite her age and the pressures on her, she managed to fall for him not for his wealth or grace simply for his ability to dance. You pulled her tight against you, “Be sure to name your child after me. Both of them.” You teased her, before running off Tzuyu giving chase. “Then they would come out as hideous as you.” She screamed back as the two of you raced finally reaching the house, heading straight for bed.
It was several days later that you would have the misfortune of running into Mr. Kim again though due to an entirely different circumstance. Your sisters and you were heading into the main square with the purpose of buying ribbons, the other ones you owned beginning to fade. Nancy and Yeri were most excited due to the military parade. “Do you know how many handsome men there will be. One is sure to fall for me if several don’t.” Nancy rambled on and on as Yeri agreed with her every word. Tzuyu and you sharing a knowing look. “If you’re so certain drop a handkerchief and see who picks it up. All the popular maidens do in stories.” Yeri suggested causing you to let out a small chuckle, “I doubt any respectable officer would step out of the parade and risk being trampled over just to return a handkerchief to Nancy.” The three of you giggled, as Nancy pouted. “We’ll see about that. Get ready to eat your words.” With that, she strode off to where the crowds were gathered. The three of you watched as she desperately tried to draw attention to herself, then she threw the handkerchief. Minutes later she was walking back with a heavy frown as the three of you laughed at her. “Don’t worry Nancy. I’m sure you’ll be married off by the age of twenty-seven.” Yeri poked fun before all of you continue your stroll. You felt as if someone was calling out to you, it was until you felt the slight tug on your sleeve that you turned around.
“I’m sorry Miss but is this your handkerchief.” The officer, clad in fitted blue and red uniform, had pouty lips, feline eyes, and beautiful light brown hair. Alluring was the word to describe his appearance. Before you could even speak Nancy appeared before you, “Isn’t that so nice. What every would she have done without it?” The officer bowed before introducing himself, “Park. At your ladies’ service, whatever I may do for you feel free to ask.” The four of you thanked him, though Nancy’s response was the loudest. “You can accompany us to the ribbon shop if you’d like.” Yeri spoke suddenly a smirk evident. Both you and Tzuyu scolded her, while Nancy only encouraged her idea more to Officer Park. “If it wouldn’t disturb you.” He replied, staring at you. “It wouldn’t Mr. Park, but we understand you must be a busy man.” Tzuyu offered the man an escape, he didn’t seem to want to take it by what you could read from him. “I promise its no trouble at all.” There was little left to say. Park accompanied your sisters and  you across the town square, into the store. The man had even paid for your ribbons after Nancy had slyly suggested it. I swear she must say the first thing that pops into her head. After the shopping spree, the walk home had been long but not plain, as Mr. Park was a pleasing companion. “Tell me Y/n. What do you most dislike about the world?” The two of you trailed behind the group, the girls speaking incongruently about this or that. “Prideful men.” It slipped out without much thought. “That specific, huh?” Park laughed, it was a nice one. A mixture of a nice rasp and a titter. “I imagine you’ve conjured up the image of whoever fits the description?” That you had, his miserable face coming to mind.
It was the sound of hooves and neighing of horses that drew your attention, both Jeon and Kim were up ahead conversing with your siblings. Adorning Kim was his custom black suit with a muslin top – ruffle free this time. He could give Beau Brummell a run for his money. Although you doubted there would be anyway Kim elegance could go unnoticed. He hadn’t seemed to notice you, putting all his attention on Mr. Park. Giving him unscrupulous stares. The closer the two of you got to the group, the clearer the conversation became. “Y/n do you hear? Mr. Jeon is throwing a ball.” Yeri gleamed. “It’s a costume ball. He’s invited everyone in town.” Nancy gushed, looking over at Mr. Park with a suggestive gaze. Mr. Jeon who had been engaging in nonverbal communication with Tzuyu where both stared at each other until one looked away, noticed his name mentioned. “What…ah yes. You all must come. You will, won’t you?” He turned back to look at Tzuyu. The latter was biting her lip to prevent a grin from showing, “It would be our pleasure. Thank you.” Mr. Park looked quite uncomfortable probably due to Mr. Kim’s unwanted attention. “I do hope you dance this time, Mr. Kim.” Kim let his eyes glide along with your figure, before reeling his horseback and galloping away. “I do hope to see you all there. Goodbye for now.” Jeon spoke hurriedly, before racing off trying to catch up to his friend. Mr. Park was paralyzed on the spot, failing to notice his name being called. “You will attend won’t you officer?” Nancy asked. The man shook his head and smiled, “Of course. It sounds like a delightful time.”
It was the night of the ball. The invitation had been received via letter and it was dubbed buja ball, Tzuyu and you had laughed whilst Yeri and Nancy pestered you to know what it meant. If your family had spent all day preparing for the previous one, they had practically spent all week. Mother had all but banned going out, to ensure that you all looked dainty and pure as could be. “This is the perfect opportunity for all you to find a suitor. A wealthy one. God knows we need him.” A part of you was undoubtedly excited, if officer Park showed tonight then you would be able to converse more. He was a kind man, attractive, and in good standing. It was a befitting proposal; one you hoped would work out. Tzuyu spent all afternoon doing your hair, twisting and coiling it into beautiful curls adorning with pearls. “You’ll be the pearl of the ball.” She mused. You thought that was fine, for she would be the belle. All of the dresses worn were white with elegant trimmings and fastened silk ribbons. Your family looked like the picture of propriety. By the time, you had arrived the ball was already bustling. Though it painted differently to the type of environment you were accustomed to. There were less cackling and more hushed chuckles. Less clamoring and more whispering. Everyone looked to be as pretty and fragile as a doll. The bourgeoisie… You nursed the glass in your hand as you saw everyone enjoying themselves.
There was the loud rise that came with the beginning of a song as the musicians played. “May I have the next dance, Miss Y/n?” You jumped in fright before turning around to meet the mysterious man. An ornate mask covered his face but his physique was tall and lean. Knowing it would be rude to keep gawking at him, you softly placed your hand in his. “You may.” He guided you onto the dance floor and as the music swelled. It wasn’t that he was a bad dancer, but you could tell he was anxious about it. So much so that he didn’t speak at all to you focusing entirety on the steps. “I do say this is quite an elaborate dance.” You remarked, hoping he would take the hint. However, several seconds passed by and he had no intention of replying. You sighed softly, “I spoke about the dance. Now you ought to remark on the size of the room or the number of couples.” At this, you felt his interest piqued for his head tilted slightly. “I’m perfectly happy to oblige. Please advise me what you would like most to hear.” The man's voice was strangely familiar when he spoke sarcastically, it was on the tip of your tongue you simply couldn’t get it out. “That reply will do the present.” You spoke coyly. The two of you continued to dance, switching couples every so often only to return to one another. A thought struck you, “Perhaps by and by, I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones.” Once again, your partner refrained from answering. “Well, for now, we may remain silent.”
“Do you talk, as a rule, while dancing?” He spoke, voice not revealing anything. “No.” You smiled, “No, I prefer to be unsociable and taciturn. Makes all more enjoyable don’t you think, Mr. Kim?” From his slight misstep, you could tell you caught him off guard. Perhaps he was not expecting you to identify him so quickly or at all. Due to the mask, you couldn’t tell if he was pleased or upset. “Tell me, do you and your sisters very often walk to town?” What? “Yes, we often do. It’s a great opportunity to meet new people.” He didn’t seem all to pleased with your answer by the way he straightened up. So that’s what this is about. “It seems you have formed a new acquaintance then. Mr. Park is blessed with such happy manners he is sure to make friends. Whether he is capable of retaining them is less certain.” You couldn’t understand the anger in his voice or the fear that began to paralyze your stomach. Come to think of it, you had not seen Park all night. At first, you assumed it may have been due to the sheer size of attendees, now you weren’t so certain. “Pardon me, Mr. Kim but I need a breath of fresh air.” Not bothering to hear his response, you briskly walked away from the man. Trying to find the nearest exit. The door was just out of reach until you ran headfirst into a crying Yeri. “Yeri what’s the matter? Why are you crying?” Your every joyful sister looked disastrous as she clung onto you. “Nancy has run away with Mr. Park. They plan to elope. She wrote me a letter and gave it to me when we first arrived. I simply didn’t bother reading it till now. Now I can’t find her.”
Your heart began to constrict in your chest. No that can’t be…Nancy wouldn’t do that to us. “Y/n she believes they’re in love. She won’t come back until there wed and then…and then…” You shushed Yeri as you rubbed her back soothingly. “It’s okay. Go speak to father, I’ll go out and search for her. They couldn’t have gone far alright? We’ll get her back.” She nodded against your shoulder before wiping away her tears and trying to locate your family among the crowd. With greater determination, you broke ran out the main entrance looking around for any sign of your sister. If she went through with this it wouldn’t just ruin her life, but your entire family’s reputation. All of you would be ruined and deemed unfit for marriage. Your father’s estate would be snatched up and all of you would face poverty. “Damn it, Nancy. How could you be so selfish?!” You muttered as you took off down the murky road, not caring about the mud gathering on your dress and shoes.  It felt as if you had walked miles until your legs gave out and you crawled over to rest on a withering willow tree. The tear ducts had long dried, as had your sweat which had been soaked into the dress. Your hair was dishelmed and coming undone by the minute. If your mother saw you, she would be sure to throw a fit. If the nerves from Nancy’s situation hadn’t killed her already. You rest up against the willow tree, trying to decipher how everything had happened. Park had looked so kind and been so charming, you would’ve never expected this from a man like him. You had let him fool you so easily, he seemed the exact opposite of Kim yet proved himself to be a lot worse.
It was then that the rain started to pour as if the heavens were truly weeping or laughing at you. Condemning your family. So preoccupied with your thoughts were you that you failed to notice the appearance of Mr. Kim until he was right beside you drenched in head to toe. “Miss Y/n.” He began, causing you to jump in fright. Mr. Kim looked shaken, though it didn’t appear to be from the rain. He looked at you earnestly before speaking once again, “I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past weeks have been a torment.” Kim spoke with fervor as if he himself couldn’t understand the words coming out of his mouth. “I have fought against my better judgment, the expectations placed on me, the inferiority of your birth, my rank, circumstances and all these things I am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony.” You stepped sat up, taking tentative steps. “I-I don’t understand.” Where was this coming from? What does he mean? The frown between your brows deepened. Mr. Kim stepped forward, simultaneously you stepped back. Your back hitting the trunk of the willow tree. “I love you…most ardently.” You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. “Please do me the honor of accepting my hand.” You swallowed thickly, unprepared for what was to come next. You spoke cautiously avoiding looking into his reddened eyes, “Sir, I appreciate the struggle you have been through and I am very sorry to have caused you pain. Believe me, it was unconsciously done.” You let the words fade. Not feeling the need to explain yourself further. “Is this your reply?” He asked. Finding it difficult to speak, you opted to nod. Trying to look anywhere but at him. Why now? Since when? Why? “Are you laughing at me?” You looked up at him in shock. “Surely you tease Miss Bennet. I couldn’t imagine a reason why –”
“For all the reasons you’ve just mentioned. To you, it may seem illogical, but what seems illogical to me is how a man I’ve only just met declares his undying love for me, after being nothing but uncivil towards me. Then he goes as far, as to propose whilst listing all the reasons I am unfit to accept such a proposal.” You ramble on, not bothering about sensibilities when it seems Mr. Kim is so strung up on his ego, he forgoes all common sense. “Were the roles reversed I am certain you would react the same.” Kim didn’t speak for a while, his head hanging low in what you believed to be a shame. Rather abruptly, however, he broke into a laugh. A maniacal one at that. “On the contrary Miss Y/n. If I were in your position, I would leap onto the opportunity to save face and your family’s reputation.” He was laughing so hard that tears strolled down his face. You were reeling thoughts raising about your head as you tried to comprehend everything. “After all, what kind of woman would you be if you didn’t? Your father is in ruins, older sister unwed, youngest sister disgraced. Why you would be lucky if your family didn’t die of shame.” You found yourself caged between the trunk and him, every time he spoke his voice grew deeper. More animalistic.  You feared for your life. “Mr. Jeon plans to propose to Tzuyu. Nancy will be found, I’m sure of it.” He laughed once more, his left hand went up to pat your head. “Jungkook won’t propose unless I allow him to. I’m in control of his inheritance and your mother won’t allow Tzuyu to marry without a pretty penny.” He smirked, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear. “Not to mention, Nancy may never be found. At least not alive.”
The fear left you paralyzed as you whimpered softly, “What have you done, Mr. Kim?” The lust in his eyes left little to the imagination. “I believe I have just proposed to you, but since it didn’t go as smooth as I would’ve desired let us try again.” Kim stepped back allowing you room to breathe. Whatever little oxygen you had regained was robbed once more, when he got down on one knee. “There is something I must tell you Miss Y/n. I have to tell you, you have bewitched me; body and soul. I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on.” Tears welled in your eyes as you listened to each and every word. “Well then, what’s your response?”
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felicityfiction · 4 years
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[bulletproof glass part 3] part 2
“choi san is dangerous”
those were the first words that hongjoong uttered after the fateful meeting in the warehouse. “maybe i underestimated him.”
yunho remembers hongjoong having a nightmare that night, ending with a loud shout of “YUNHO!” and the banging open of his door, a frenzied hongjoong barging in his room, gasping for air like someone was choking him. yunho remembers hongjoong startling him awake, only to have hongjoong gather him in his arms and mutter incomprehensible things into his ears while he just sat there, helpless and confused.
“they can’t take me, hyung. it’s okay. i’m here, i’m safe.”
a frantic shake of the head. “no, you’re not. i made you a target since the day i took you to see them. i shouldn’t have done that, but i couldn’t leave you alone.”
“i know, hyung. it’s alright. we’re okay. i can protect myself”
a muffled laugh. “as much as that gun is loaded, yunho, we both know you can‘t bring yourself to shoot.”
yunho purses his lips, drawing back and holding hongjoong at arms length. “i’ll shoot it if anyone threatens you, hyung. threatens us. you know that.”
hongjoong sighs, and wonders for the nth time why he brought this sweet soul into the tainted abyss of the underworld.
he sleeps much better after that, though, buried in 185cm of yunho.
“hello again, yunho ssi”
yunho, in his sleep deprived, coffee induced haze, barely recognises the person standing in front of him. “huh.” he manages to utter, sounding so incredibly dumb that even he himself winces. damn it, yunho. get it together
but then he realises he shouldn’t even be engaging with choi san, who’s holding a latte to his lips and grinning at him like they shared some kind of inside joke.
yunho thinks he should find a new cafe to frequent. he can’t keep being distracted by devilishly attractive mafia bosses while he‘s trying to work on his dissertation. shame, the coffee here is the best he’s had in a while.
“what do you want.” he sighs out, not bothering to try and intimidate san into going away. somehow,within three meetings, he already understands san more than most people do.
choi san cannot be cowed.
“like i said last time, nothing. just wanted to say hi. and good luck on whatever you’re doing, it looks difficult.” choi san hums, still staring at him, and yunho, much to his horror, finds the tips of his ears going hot.
san’s grin morphs into a smirk. “i told you before, yunho- we’ll probably be meeting a lot. and it’s probably to my benefit that you look cute almost all the time. even holding a gun.”
what is this guy‘s problem?!
yunho grits his teeth, willing himself to ignore the man. “i am busy. go away.”
“of course, of course. see you soon, cutie.” san winks, and to yunho’s horror, the blush on his ears creeps onto his cheeks.
“i hope not.”
“darling, we don’t always get what we want in life.” san chirps merrily, and yunho tenses. choi san is dangerous.
warning alarms go off in his head when san leans in closer, just like he did the last time they met. this time, yunho forces himself not to shrink away. he can’t shoot me in broad daylight. he’s a mafia boss, not an idiot.
“but i’m the exception. i always get what i want. and right now, jung yunho, i want you.”
yunho chokes on air, and san whirls around on his heels, strutting off, a satisfied smile decorating his chiseled features. making yunho flustered was his new favourite past time.
while yunho is still recovering, an employee brings out a piece of hazelnut cake and sets it on his table. yunho eyes it suspiciously. “sorry, i didn’t order that.”
“yes, but that gentleman just now did. told us to bring it to you. oh, and he left a message. enjoy, sir!”
a card is slipped onto his table, and yunho can’t resist.
eyeing the cake and gingerly picking up the fork with his left hand, he turns the card around with his right hand and blinks.
you intrigue me, jung yunho. hazelnut is your favourite right? i bet you’re wondering how i know, though the answer won’t surprise you. i’ll get to know you more, and maybe you’ll want me to know you too.
by the way, my name is san, since you never use it. here’s my number. i trust you won’t do anything with it, but maybe save it. i’ll see you again.
for gods’ sake. was a mafia boss flirting with him?
“san. what’s your intention with yunho?”
“god, seonghwa, you’ve asked me that so many times. i told you, he’s a bit of fun and amusement. such an innocent thing. maybe i want to ruin him. who knows? i just like messing with him.”
seonghwa pursed his lips, eyeing san cautiously while he spins in his leather chair behind his gigantic desk.
“there’s no time for amusement.”
you have to kill him.
“that’s where you are wrong, my dear stick in the mud.” san tuts at him. “there’s always time for fun, and jung yunho is the best fun i’ve had in a while.”
“usually you sleep with the fun on the first try.” seonghwa deadpans.
san laughs, and then contemplates. “true. but he knows me, knows what i am. he’ll take more effort, if i want to go there. but strangely, i’m not sure that’s what i even want out of him.”
“why do you care so much about him?” seonghwa bites his tongue, regretting his statement immediately when he sees san tense.
“i don’t. i’m just bored, seonghwa. don’t get anything screwed up inside your head.”
god, seonghwa wants to tell him so bad.
they’re going to make you kill him
stay away from him
i don’t want you to hurt
“i’ll have him soon. and then i won’t want him anymore, just like all the others.” san whirls around in his chair to face the window, the view of seoul greeting him. “they’re all so easy.”
seonghwa knows jung yunho isn’t easy. he’s not a toy, and he won’t fall for san.
at least, seonghwa hopes he won’t. he hopes that jung yunho is intelligent and cares enough about his own wellbeing to stay away from san. then maybe the elders would reconsider his target, and seonghwa won’t have to look hongjoong in the eye and tell him that his little brother is about to be killed-
seonghwa grips his phone tightly, standing outside an apartment smack in the middle of hongdae. he’s trying to decide whether or not to knock, when the door opens and decides for him.
kim hongjoong stands before seonghwa, in all the glory that one can at 4am in the morning.
“the fuck?” is the only thing he gets in lieu of a greeting.
seonghwa can’t help the little smile that crawls onto his face, or the little flame of warmth that blooms, just for a split second, in his heart.
this apartment is hongjoong’s secret hideout, away from all the filth and burden that he carries in his day to day life.
somehow, seonghwa has been let in on the secret.
“hey.” seonghwa manages, biting his lips to keep from spilling everything out.
“do you need something?” hongjoong’s voice is husky, and seonghwa feels slightly apologetic for waking him up. especially since he has no idea why he’s there, other than the fact that his feet took him there of their own accord.
so he decides to be honest. “wanted to see you. that’s all. i can go now.”
he doesn’t move, registering hongjoong’s slight widening of his eyes and the way he seems to be more alert.
god, if choi san knew how dangerous it was to be so, so attracted to the enemy, maybe he would stay away. but seonghwa is a hypocrite.
kim hongjoong is his biggest secret.
there’s a pale hand on his wrist, tugging him into the apartment, and seonghwa complies easily.
he has always, always been weak for kim hongjoong.
here, in this apartment, he tosses aside his persona as a senior member of the choi mafia, and hongjoong sheds the title of leader. at least for a while, they both pretend like they’re just normal people, enjoying each other’s company
and maybe they both secretly entertain the thought that they might be normal people, who don’t want to let each other go.
within each meeting on opposite sides, with the threat of dying ever present, hongjoong will never admit it, but he doesn’t think he could shoot seonghwa. or hurt him. or do anything besides gather the taller man into a tight embrace and press his lips against the tatoo on his neck. the insignia of his gang. maybe, if he kisses it hard enough,it will fade away and hongjoong can take him into his arms without feeling like he’s playing with fire.
there’s not supposed to be trust between them. but seonghwa bares his neck a bit more, and he knows he’s long gone , unable to stay away from hongjoong.
if it came down to it, they’d both shoot themselves before they would each other. of course, neither of them says that, because that would mean crossing a line that they couldn’t afford to. they’d trip over the web of strings and not be able to catch themselves. on the surface, they don’t speak of each other. but at night, seonghwa’s thoughts flit over to hongjoong automatically.
and seonghwa wants.
he wants so,so badly.
and he’s scared that san wants, too.
san, who covers for him silently and doesn’t use hongjoong as leverage against seonghwa. san, who has so much more on the line.
charming, seductive choi san, who wouldn’t be able to realise he’s in too deep because he thinks himself invincible and beyond attachment.
in hongjoong’s bedroom that night, buried under the sheets, seonghwa prays and prays, but he feels hopeless.
he’s always prayed to wake up the next day and still be here, next to hongjoong without a gun between them.
but tonight, he thinks of san.
there’s a mountainload of guilt in his chest. the knowledge that san will be tasked to kill, and seonghwa will be forced to choose between two sides of himself that have been clashing from the beginning
in his heart, seonghwa knows. he knows because he can read san like an open book. he’s grown up with san, and he feels suffocated at the thought that san doesn’t know himself as well as he thinks. san is plunging head first into the deep end.
san’s falling, and seonghwa might not be able to catch him.
A/N: i really didnt think this through. i dont know how i want the story to develop because i am an impatient prick who wants to get to the climax but can’t put together a good enough storyline to get there and shfhnfew i’m so frustrated
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