#i tend to replay it whenever i start getting the “i miss these characters :^( i miss this setting :^(" feeling. please note the 5+ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonchildsaurora · 4 years

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Garden of Words

✤ prince/king!Yunho x tailor!reader ✤ genre: Prince AU // angst, fluff ✤ t/w: sfw, lots of bittersweetness, rated PG ✤ count: 3.5k+ ✤ [ part 2 ] of Lacuna miniseries

a/n - look, when I was writing my plan out for this, my notes only centered around the garden scene. . .and here we are 3000+ words later hahahaaaaaa, this is what happens when the mind goes “what if” and gets invested in the before/after rather than just the now 😔 one day I’ll be able to write shorter, sweeter pieces but today isn’t the day. I’d like to whole-heartedly thank anyone who reads through this entire piece, for your time and hopefully it was worth it. Also I’ve decided to have a little bit of fun with subtly featuring other members in each others’ mini stories, so see if y’all can spot who the next character we’ll be visiting next! 💙 P.S. paragraphs in all italics are flashback scenes!

“Excuse me, are you the fae of the garden?”

The watering can of butterscotch shade in your hands tilted back to pause in the sprinkling of water droplets on the freshly bloomed red gardenias. Turning around, you found the source of the small tinkling voice.

“Good morning Young Prince,” you greeted him, setting the watering can down on a nearby bench before making your way over. Sunlight shone abundantly down on the Royal Glasshouse, some areas where the stained-glass windows stood were bathed in colourful hues. Where the light hit your peachy robe made of georgette-silk gave an ethereal glow to your figure.

The Young Prince looked at you with wonder as you bent down to his level before speaking to him again, “and how did you manage to find your way here, little one?” You recognised the mahogany velvet capelet that wrapped around his form; after all, just two weeks ago were you tirelessly hand-sewing those dainty pearls that left a trail of constellations across the velvet surface.

“Hmm…I followed the pretty blue butterflies!” the Young Prince excitedly pointed to where several of them were fluttering over the yellow hibiscuses. Of course he would, he is the King’s son after all and his smile was perfect proof of that too.

Your eyes soften and the sides of our lips tilted further up, “Well they definitely have led you to a special spot haven’t they?”

“Please don’t tell anyone!” the Young Prince turned to look behind him quickly, as if to check if the coast was clear before taking a few shy steps closer to you. He brought up his little hands to cup them around his mouth and anticipating that he was going to whisper, you leaned in with a listening ear.

“I’m not supposed to come here on my own but Father brings me here sometimes and always tells me that the flowers here are most happy because of the fae who cares for them. I wanted to meet the fae because they never are around when Father and I are here.”

With great effort you suppressed the giggles that threatened to spill out, not wanting the Young Prince to think that you were laughing at him but rather at how adorable of a pout he formed by the end of whispering his little secret to you.

“Who told you that you couldn’t come here by yourself?”

“Everyone says that this glasshouse is Father’s most favourite and no one should come in without him saying ok. Even Mother doesn’t come here.”

Now it was all starting to make more sense to you, trust him to give you a title like fae of the garden. Letting out a gentle sigh, you gave the Young Prince a reassuring smile and held out your pinky.

“I promise not to tell, if you don’t.”

His eyes sparkled immediately as his little pinky was quick to curl around yours, “Oh thank you great fae!”

The soft spot in your heart grew once more.

“Would you like to see what fresh blooms will greet us today, Young Prince?”

The initial shyness he had melted away and the eager tug on your hands with a delighted laugh was a clear answer to your question. You let him lead you down the cobblestone pathway, patiently answering his questions whenever he’d point out flowers to you along the walk.

“Ah! Father’s favourite flower!”

The both of you slowed to a stop where the sea of multi-coloured freesias clustered, like a protective circle, around the Juliet Rose bush. With glowing apricot coloured petals that looked tender to touch, the rose bush stood dignified in the middle. Oh, the amount of care and love that went in to growing these roses, it truly is the treasure of the Royal Glasshouse.

You could still feel the phantom prickles on your fingertips from when you’d accidentally catch on one of the thorns whilst pruning. But you also remembered the warm hands that used to encompass yours and those same hands fought many more thorns to build this piece of Eden just for you.

“Shall we get some to give to him later on?” you suggested, having swiftly gone round the corner to retrieve the pruning knife from the crate.

“Yes, yes! Oh but won’t our shoes get muddy going in there?”

“Your Father didn’t mind losing many good white trousers to the dirt when he used to tend to the garden.”

“Father did that?” gasped the Young Prince, his eyes locked on as you moved with practiced ease. Still unsure as to whether he should risk a scolding from his tutor later on, he stayed behind the pebble border.

You hummed in reply, tip-toeing to avoid disturbing the freesias to reach the rose bush. “He drove the palace tailors mad with the amount of buttons he’d lose…but it was all worth it in the end.”

Your hands cupped one of the larger roses, observing the intricate layers of petals within the heart of the bloom. Just like the layers of memories that stirred within you in that moment.

”Not again Your Highness!”

Shoving the tunic you had been sewing to fix up a rip at the seams to the side, you hurried over with a handkerchief towards the Crown Prince as he came out of the Royal Glasshouse. When he wasn’t attending his classes or royal duties, all free time was spent on the garden. The only rule was that no one but the Crown Prince was allowed inside.

“Blossom, we’ve talked about this. You know I’d prefer it if you used my name.”

“That’s the last thing you should be worrying about now! The Queen won’t be too thrilled to know that you–“

A snow white camellia was tucked behind your ear, distracting you to a pause. Your hand immediately reached up and your fingers were met with the morning dew still upon the petals.

“This is first of the few that have successfully bloomed.”

“You’re distracting me on purpose, Yunho!”

“Well it got you to say my name, did it not?” he laughed, crouching down slightly to allow you to help wipe some of the soil off his cheeks. Even as you continued to fret over his mess of a stained blouse that certainly will cause a ruckus over afternoon tea, Yunho looked at you with so much affection that it would’ve made the rest of the flowers blush.

“You are impossible,” with no real bite to your words.

“And yet you’ve stayed by me all this time.”

You weren’t just the child of the Queen’s personal seamstress, no, you were Yunho’s first real friend within the palace. He treasured the friendship, for being with you meant Jeong Yunho could breathe freely.

The hallway had a woeful chill despite the midday sunlight streaming through the arched windows. Perhaps it was reflecting your current state of mind, your feet scurrying with haste to carry you to the safety of your chambers. Only behind closed doors did you allow your walls to crumble.

“It’s settled then, we shall entrust you with the task of creating the wedding gown. After all your sewing skills are immaculate and the Princess herself personally requested for you.”

Your mind kept replaying the announcement, echoes taunting the reality right in your face. Extremely confused at the absence of feeling on top of the world that you’ve been tasked with such a prestigious request nor were you jumping with joy knowing that Aethevintis and Cilon were officiating a strong alliance through a royal engagement.

“Every tailor in the kingdom would’ve killed for this job! Soon you’ll be making a name for yourself!”

The palace staff showered words of encouragement and your mother couldn’t be any prouder…

...yet it did nothing to ease the piercing cold emptiness that invaded your shattered heart.

“Blossom that would be considered as assault against the Crown Prince.”

You threw an unamused look his way, right after you had nearly kneed Yunho in the face when he effortlessly hitched you over his shoulders. Without so much as giving you a valid explanation as to why he arrived unannounced at the tailors’ room, only to whisk you away from your half-sewn bodice.

“Some of us need to work, Yunho!”

“You’ve been working a fair bit lately, I simply miss spending time with you.”

Now that you have actually acknowledged your feelings towards him, you couldn’t afford to let such words feed the false hope; not when you knew there will be an inevitable split in your pathways. You had been purposely avoiding him since preparations for the Engagement Ball have started, under the guise that you needed complete focus on your commission. It numbed the hurt inside temporarily, but you couldn’t deny that you’ve missed him.

Terribly so.

“Where exactly are you taking us?”

Scrunching your nose slightly at the smell of hay and heavy worn leather upon entering the stables, you noticed the saddle was already on Yunho’s Friesian stallion. Had he planned this beforehand?

“On an adventure!”

Of course, Yunho may have forgotten to notify you that he was supposed to be at a council meeting at that moment instead of bolting out of the stables like your lives depended on it.

He needed to breathe again and you decided to run with him for once, rather than away. The faint shouts of his name could be heard in the distance but consequences be damned if it meant seeing his radiant smile be set free and feeling the steadiness of your entwined hands.

“Watch your step.”

For whatever reason you couldn’t fathom, that Yunho somehow managed to sneak away from his own Engagement Ball without getting noticed and now was guiding you through an alternate and poorly-lit route towards the garden. Had it not been for his insistence that this matter was of great importance, you would’ve dragged him back in to the Grand Hall yourself.

Not even daring to think about the implications of his future wife being left, having to wait inside and what should happen if any of the guests or palace staff saw you with the Crown Prince in this questionable state?

“I’ve already talked to Captain Song and requested for his guard unit to ensure this area is kept clear for tonight, so you needn’t worry.”

His warm hand that held onto yours gave a reassuring squeeze, dampening your anxiousness just a little. You ended up facing the entrance to the Royal Glasshouse, the window panes were crystal clear in the dark that you could see the stars that hung above in the night sky in the reflection. Admittedly this place hadn’t graced your mind in months and you immediately felt disappointment towards yourself for not checking in with Yunho over time about his progress.

As you were about to speak, your vision suddenly goes pitch black.

“Hope you don’t mind but it’s a surprise,” Yunho whispered softly and only then did you realise that those were his hands covering your eyes. Wordlessly you nodded and allowed him to lead you in, an array of floral scents hitting your senses almost immediately, indicating that you both have made it well in to the glasshouse.

Something brushed against the top of your head unexpectedly and you flinched back, hitting Yunho’s solid chest.

“It’s ok, it’s just the blue jade vines. I’ve got you.” You wished your heart would stop fluttering as you felt him shuffle around you.

“Had it been anything else, I would’ve been right out the door and never stepping foot in here again,” you murmured.

You heard Yunho’s low chuckling before, “And leave me behind? That’s harsh. Who would I ever share this with then?”

His hands lifted and you blinked a few times to settle the initial haziness. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the view; there were lanterns both hanging from the roof and ones scattered around to illuminate the interior with a soft glow, fireflies danced about unbothered and even with the vast amount of plants it wasn’t a suffocating space.

Taking tentative steps to look at some of the flowers up close, you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. Just when you thought Yunho couldn’t get any more incredible than he already is.

“Yunho, this is…you really did it! From which fairytale did you pull this garden out of? All of this is exquisitely stunning!” you said, gently running your hand over the pink and white baby’s breath bushes.

Unbeknownst to you, Yunho’s barely keeping himself together under his calm façade. His heart has been yearning to just go against all odds and take you away with him but that meant condemning you to a lifetime of hardship, in a world where tradition doesn’t take too kindly to change.

He would never do that to you.

If he couldn’t be free to love you openly, then he’d love you in all the ways that required unspoken words. He poured his time and love into creating something, untouched by others and solely from himself, that he could give to you.

Just like he already has with his heart.

So when you heard him call your name, rather than the usual term of endearment he’d use, it set off the butterflies in your stomach. He reached out for you and you met him halfway.

“Did you know these are my favourites? They’re still young but as they grow, you’ll see that they aren’t just ordinary roses. They’re called Juliet Rose.”

Yunho showed you around the garden, telling you of the different flowers and their meanings. Peruvian lilies for lasting bonds, bluebells for devotion, gladiolus for strength, chrysanthemums for happiness, carnations for faithfulness. You were so caught up with keeping track that you nearly missed what Yunho had said next.

“–for an undying love or you’re the only one…”

“What...did you say?”

A barely-there whisper as you choked the words out. The running water from the mini fountain in the lily pad pond was the only sound among the silence that stretched between you both. And then there was the feeling of dread again, that you needed to run. Far away. Now. “W-We should go, th– your future fiancée is wait–“

You barely made it past 4 steps before Yunho caught your wrist and this time, he wasn’t going to let go. He called your name again.

“Please look at me.”

Perhaps it was the desperation in his voice that got through to you, telling you that you’d deeply regret it if you were to leave. So you willed your heart to stay through the pain and to stay for Yunho. It wasn’t until you felt damp velvet against your cheeks that you realised it was from the tears that cascaded down from your eyes and soaked in to Yunho’s suit, for he held your shaking form close to him.

“I’m such a fool.”

“Well, I guess we’re both just fools very much in love then.”

And then it dawned on you.

This entire garden being Yunho’s vow to you, which made you cry even harder than if he would’ve just confessed out loud to you right from the start.

Your hands grasped onto his back, fisting the fabric as you buried yourself further in to him. Noting that he smelled of clementines on a cool breezy summer day, you ingrained that scent to your memory. Wishing upon all the stars above that time would stop and allow you both to just live in your little garden.

“And with your permission, could you allow this fool to be selfish for a while more?”

A light kiss to your forehead before your face was tilted up, sore tear-stained eyes meeting his matching ones. “You? Selfish? Impossible.” Keeping your voice soft, partially from not wanting to break the peaceful ambience as you clumsily wiped his tears away.

Yunho knows he already has been selfish especially with time, he can’t stop it but he can draw it out at least. And he’s selfish in wanting to take from you when he knows he cannot give back entirely. But if it’s once in this lifetime that he gets to have you before having to return to the cruel world of normality, then he will get on his knees to beg for your forgiveness for being selfish.

He pours out everything in to the searing kiss he places on your lips and whilst you never imagined your first kiss to be like this, at the very least you finally have closure. Swollen lips, rosy cheeks and warm hands that refused to part until the very last second. Words that you both have been meaning to tell each other over the years are woven into poetries.

The garden kept it all, kept your love safe and your hearts safer.

“Do they make you happy too?”

Just like that, you’re brought back to the present. “What gave it away little one?” you asked, glancing to smile at him before focusing on cutting off two large roses.

“You were making the same face at the roses as Father does when he’s happy…when he tells me about you and the garden,” replied the Young Prince with honesty. The blue butterflies from before came fluttering around the roses that you held in your hands, much like the ones that stirred inside you once more when you heard the words.

Some things never change, do they?

You started to take the thorns off the stems with the pruning knife before replying, “They do, and this is my happy place.” Once you deemed the stems were safe enough for the Young Prince to hold, you made your way back over to him. You knelt down and presented the roses to him, “What do you think?”

He cautiously took the flowers that dwarfed his small hands, peering in to the layers curiously and taking a whiff of the delicate scent. “They’re really pretty! I think Father will like them very much!”

“Shall we go look for a few more blooms? You can create your very own little bouquet.”

The Young Prince made little noises of excitement and rushed to hold on to your hand once more, continuing on the quest to pick more flowers. It wasn’t until awhile later when you were showing the Young Prince how to arrange the flowers he picked to tie them together, that you heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Father!”

If Yunho hadn’t already learnt how to harden his heart these past years, the scene before him would’ve surely made him cry with happiness. For a second he could pretend that this was real, that you were the one with the aquamarine diamond band around your finger and that he was coming to join his actual family for tea in the garden. His eyes never wavered from yours, even when his son came barrelling in to his legs waving his bouquet merrily in the air.

“Your Majesty,” you greeted with a formal bow, not missing how Yunho’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Father, I finally got to meet the great fae! We spent all morning finding these!”

Only when you subtly flicked your eyes down towards the child did Yunho respond, quickly reaching down to take the bouquet from his son’s outstretched hand and bringing him in for a hug too.

“I had a feeling I’d find you here, sneaking off from your tutor again,” amusement lacing Yunho’s tone, “and what an intriguing choice of flowers you’ve got there.”

Father and son both adorning mirrored grins on their faces, “they’re for you, do you like them? And I’m sorry for sneaking in here Father!” said the Young Prince, little brows furrowing slightly.

“Very much, thank you…the both of you. And it’s ok as long as skipping your lessons doesn’t become a habit,” said Yunho as he ruffled his son’s hair affectionately and drew his gaze back to you.

“Unfortunately we must take our leave now.”

“How come? Do we really have to go?” The Young Prince seem to have inherit the puppy-dog eyes from his father, putting on the best pout he could muster as he looked between the two of you. Yunho shook his head, bending down to pick his son up. “Remember Grandpa and Grandma are coming by for lunch? Your Mother even asked the cooks to prepare our favourite dessert,” as if attempting to appease him.

“But…I wanted to spend more time here!”

“You’re always welcome back here little one, if His Majesty is ok with that–”

“Of course, although I hope it won’t be too much trouble?”

You gave a gentle smile and eyes twinkling with mirth, “Considering he hasn’t lost more than two dozen buttons within the last two weeks nor requires daily stitch repairs, I’d say it won’t be too much trouble at all Your Majesty.” That drew out an apology and light laughter from Yunho.

You walked the King and the Young Prince back to the entrance of the Royal Glasshouse, and just before stepping out Yunho turned to you once more. “Have you stopped by the pond recently?” the random query puzzled you.

“I thought I saw something interesting growing there the other day.”

Please go.

Right after waving a goodbye to Yunho and his son, without a care of making it obvious you hurried to where the lily pads floated at. It wasn’t hard to miss the bundles of serene blues nestled in the damp soil near edge of the pond. As you got closer, the realisation of what those were made your heart soar and ache at the same time.

A couple of tears fell onto the sea of blue petals as you reached out to cradle them with your hands.

“As if I could ever forget…my beloved King,” you whispered to the forget-me-nots that silently delivered Yunho’s words for you—

This garden is forever yours and so is my love, always. Never forget that.

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autumnslance · 2 years

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Miss Lyn, how do you handle 4 characters?! I have 2 and its a struggle lol

I really don’t, lol. At least, I don’t try keeping them all current with content.

I play through MSQ on Dark Autumn first. She’s my darling first character. Also running through on her lets me just vibe with MSQ as it unfolds and figure out WTF is going on and react to it myself in that moment. I don’t worry too much how it affects my fics yet; some ideas percolate, but overall I just focus on the story actually being told by the game.

Going through it again on Aeryn a little later lets me be a bit more objective and determine how it affects her, anything I need to change to make sense for her (or in general), and so on.

Then I tend to go back and forth on Dark & Aeryn for a bit until they’re both geared; depending on mood, I might alternate them each day, or each week. Once they’re geared up on their main jobs, I pick one of them and start leveling their alt jobs and doing side content. Right now, I am focusing this patch on Aeryn and getting all her jobs up.

Once that’s done—and there are a few more options!—I’ll worry about Dark’s crafts and alt jobs, when all Aeryn has left is current content as it releases, or random old stuff I wanna do (like finish the HW relic story). Aeryn’s the only one I’m going to worry about current relic grinds for too. But I can’t just do that many job grinds back to back, I need a break! There’s no rush, since Aeryn can craft things.

Also, I’ve decided at this point Aeryn is the designated Collector of Things. Others get pets, mounts, orchestrions, etc as convenient.

Later in the patch cycle, with the main 2 ladies caught up, I’ll get back to leveling up C’oretta; she’s poised to start 5.4, so I’ll be able to knock out the entire Endwalker story on her once more and likely, having had time to chew on things, hear dev talk, and it being a 3rd playthrough, I’ll notice things I missed, remember things I forgot/overlooked, rethink a few other things, and simply enjoy the story again. Then I’ll likely just focus on her main job for gearing (with crafted items) and any alt jobs as mood and time strike me.

Iyna’s still in Stormblood, so lots to still do on her, but I’m not fussed about it. As time and energy permit. Screenshots of her in Terncliff for a prompt response story were done with crime tools. I also don’t feel bad buying boosts and skips on Iyna and C’oretta, as I’ve done all the content on Aeryn and Dark already.

Iyna and C’oretta function as supporting characters and can appear whenever and whereever in fic. I have a rough idea of what they’re doing during Shadowbringers and Endwalker as Aeryn’s doing WoL things (where the other 3 chars are during Garlemald, the Moon, the Final Days, while the Scions are in Ultima Thule, are all things I’ve considered) but actually having them leveled up and current isn’t necessary for that.

In WoW it was expected, somewhat necessary, and honestly built to have multiple alts to do content with, since each character can only be 1 job. Alts on the same account in WoW share a lot of things, like pet and mount collections. FFXIV is far less alt friendly as the expectation is to do things on 1 Warrior of Light. Maybe an alt or two to play with friends on different worlds/data centers, but the intent is a focus on a main WoL.

I only made alts to replay content before New Game+, because I like character creation, and that writer and roleplayer part of me likes having character ideas and figuring out their stories. But I’m not going to keep multiple characters raid ready on all jobs; power to those who have the time, energy, and focus to do that, but it’s also not necessary for writing fic or even most roleplay.

Pick what seems fun for now—leveling a main’s jobs, replaying MSQ, catching up a relic—on whatever character strikes your fancy, alternate when you wish, and don’t sweat it if they aren’t tome capped each week and fully geared on all jobs by the next patch drop. This is a game played for fun, after all.

#Lyn Prompts #final fantasy xiv #blogging #about me #characters #aeryn striker #dark autumn #c’oretta khell #iyna cauld

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icejello · 3 years

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Chapters of Life: chapter 6

Characters: Satan, Twyla

Words: 2295

A/N: I didn't say this before but I actually got inspiration for this from a song so I think now would be a great time to link it to the song

The house is quieter now that everyone had left. All of them had stayed at Solomon's house for 2 days to comfort him and thankfully his house is big enough for al of them. He too was supposed to be leaving yesterday but one look at his niece's pleading eyes asking for him to stay for two more days, he had to say yes, he doesn't have the heart to tell her no.

Everyone has acted strong for her, putting up a smile whenever she's around, accompanying her and playing with her. Especially her father, putting behind his work to spend time with her, laughing with her when she needs it, she even got special permission to sleep in her father's room for comfort. The two of them cling to each other for comfort, now that the person they so loved has left them, they only have each other even with everyone else around them and he gets it. This is something just between the two of them. His niece too, had put on a smile to show that she's strong going through this, he admires her for that. How similar she is to MC.

Now with silence in this house, he was in his room reading. Although, his mind is anywhere but on the book in front of him. He has too many thoughts and yet his mind felt blank and empty. Most days, he find himself unable to think clearly. His niece constant presence around him kept him grounded but it's also too painful for him to look at her.

He wants to hate her. This constant and living reminder of what he had lost. The proof of the love that was stolen from him. The way she looks exactly like them, it hurts him. She was the spitting image of MC. A reminder of the death of the love of his life, the love that he never received, the love that never got. Sometimes he would find himself staring at her, thinking that maybe they're the reincarnation of them. But her eyes, Solomon's eyes, is all he needs to see to know that it isn't them. That they're dead, leaving behind a daughter, an exact copy of them if it weren't for the eyes, and a mourning husband.

He wanted to hate Twyla but he couldn't, he can't. He love her as his own daughter but he knows that she isn't his. He made a promise to MC, that he would protect her no matter what and he tends to keep that promise. He will keep that promise, nothing will happen to her, not as long as he is alive and he will keep her safe even if it meant sacrificing his own life. But he hopes that it doesn't come to that, he wants to see her grow up into the beautiful young woman she would be, even if it hurts him to look at her.

But being here, at this house, everything just feels so wrong without them around. Something feels missing, he feels lost. He no longer knows what he is feeling these days, often finding himself replaying the memories he had with them. Where had all those feelings that they had taught him went? He wish he could feel something, anything, but all he felt was numbness. Nothing feels real to him but he know everything is true and it's the harsh reality. Are the fates not done toying with him by now? They had taken his love, first putting them away from him and now taking them away from everyone.

A millions thoughts starts to haunt him and he push off the bed to stare outside the window. It was night time now which explained why his niece wasn't there seeking for his attention, she's probably asleep. He wasn't much of a stargazer compared to Belphie but he does know stuffs about stars. Devildom stars are different from human world ones, right? Staring at the night sky, he can't help but be reminded of the time he had helped MC and Solomon about their project on making the human world constellations which, of course, had turned into a disaster because his brothers were involved in it too, although he can't really say that he isn't to be blamed too. He did make a cat constellation too.

Thinking back on all those memories, all the happy times, it hurts him. Why can't it just stay like that? Where they were all together, where all of them are happy. He doesn't want this, this emptiness inside him, this lost feeling. He paced around the room in an attempt to clear his mind from all those thoughts, they were starting to irritate him, why is he suddenly remembering all these now? He stopped and looked to the side to find that he had stopped right in front of the mirror.

He stood in front of it, staring at his reflection, he looks the same and yet it's like he couldn't recognize himself. Did he even change all those years? Is this really him that he's looking at? He can't remember when was the last time he stood in front of a mirror to look at himself.

He took a deep breath and close his eyes. Hold yourself together Satan, MC wouldn't have wanted to see you like this. He opened his eyes and looked back at the mirror. Instead of his reflection, he saw Lucifer staring back at him. No no no no no. Thoughts whispered in his head. You are nobody. You're only strong because of him, if it weren't for him you would have been number seven. Everyone fears you only because of him. You were made from his anger, people feared his anger and that's why people fear you.

No, stop it, stop it. You know it yourself, deep down you know the truth, you know that you are nobody but you were so desperate on not believing the truth. "No, that's not true, I am somebody," he find himself whispering as he claws at his face and shutting his eyes shut not wanting to look at the mirror and trying to block out the voices in his head.

Are you? You know that's a lie. You will always be just a shadow of Lucifer, he would always be superior to you, all your brothers are, you are worthless. No, I'm not Lucifer, I am my own person, MC- They are gone now. They gave you meaning to your life but they are no longer around. They're gone and so is your meaning, your worth. "Stop it stop it stop it, just shut up! Shut up shut up shut up!"

Face the truth Satan, you are- "SHUT UP!" Without thinking twice, he raise his fist and punch the mirror in front of him. The sound of glass breaking echoed seems too loud as it echoes in his room. He open his eyes to see the mirror fully cracked because of his fist. Little bits of blood are on the mirror near his fist. He remove his fist to stare at his now bloody hand, he almost didn't feel the pain of it. Silence fell around the room like a heavy blanket and he just stood there looking at his bloody knuckles, he lost track of time as he stood there.

The voices in his head are silent now just like room. He went to the side of his bed and sat down on the floor, leaning against his bed, as he burry his face in the palms of his hands. Lost in the silence, he almost missed the soft knocking on his door. It must be around midnight now so who could that be? Solomon? He seem to be the only other person who would be awake at this hour. He didn't bother to answer it, knowing that Solomon would open his door either way. And his door did open but it was not Solomon behind it.

"Uncle Satan?" Twyla's small voice squeaks from behind the door.

"Twyla?" At the sound of his voice, she slowly peeks inside before entering and closing the door behind her. She's wearing the cat onesie that he had gifted to her during her birthday and it had since then been her favorite present among all of the gifts she had ever received. She stood there, looking at him, unsure of what to do. He opens his arms to her and she quickly went to him to sit in his lap and hug him. "What are you doing here? I thought you were sleeping," he ask her softly as he strokes her hair.

"I woke up when I heard you yell and I wanted to see you,"

"Did I wake you up? I'm sorry sweetheart," he kiss the top of her head and she looks up at him, her eyes filled with worry.

"Are you okay uncle?"

"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?" He offers her a smile. Her eyes shift to look at something and he follows her gaze to see that she is staring at the now broken mirror. "Oh, that. I'm sorry about that, don't worry too much about it, okay?"

She ignores him and reach for his hand, he has to admit that she is smart for noticing which one is his dominant hand and immediately taking that one. Her brows scrunched up as she takes in my bloody knuckles. "Uncle, your hand is bleeding,"

"Like I said, don't worry about it, I'll be fine," he reassures her.

"No, you're hurt uncle," she frowns as she looks up at him again.

"I'm fine sweetheart, why don't you go back to sleep?" She shakes her head in refusal. "Where's your papa?"

"He's sleeping, he didn't hear it when you yelled. Papa must be really tired," her face fell as it turns upset and he wraps his arms around her.

"He must be, aren't you tired Twyla? You should go back to sleep or you would be tired tomorrow and then we can't play if you're tired,"

"But uncle, you're hurt!" He tries to reason with his niece again that he's fine but she jumps up and runs towards the bedside table. She opens the bottom drawer and takes out the first aid kit that he doesn't even know is there. She hurries back to him and set the kit on the floor.

"How did you know that was there?" he ask in surprise.

"I saw nari put it there before," she tells him as she opens the box and starts to work on treating his hand.

"Twyla, how do you know how to do this?" He ask in surprise and amazement of his niece. She's only four, four year olds don't usually know how to do this stuffs, right?

"I fell down once and watch how nari did it. I asked nari to teach me when papa accidentally injures himself so I could help them!"

"You're a good girl, you know that?" He tells her after she's done and ruffles her hair as she sits back down in his lap. Her work with the bandage isn't actually the prettiest one but it will work. Of course MC will teach their daughter how to treat someone's injury, they probably weren't worried about Twyla playing with the ointments and medicines at all.

"And your hand would is treated now! It might still hurt but it'll be better soon!" She reassures him and he can't help but smile at his niece. She reach for his hand again and kiss his knuckles.

"Why did you do that?"

"Nari or papa would always do it for me when I get hurt, they said it'll make it heal faster so I'm doing it for you too!"

And at that moment, he's thankful for his niece. He knows kissing an injury won't do anything but seeing her trying to take care of him warms his heart. He really isn't worried about the injury, he is a demon after all and little injuries like that doesn't really concern him.

Seeing her still hurts him, even right now with how similar she looks like to MC. Hell, she even acts like them and that breaks his heart. But he made a promise and he will keep it and maybe this little ball of sunshine sitting in his lap will teach him more about life just like MC did once. The voices in his head weren't lying when they said MC was the one that gave meaning to his life but what they did wasn't giving meaning to his life, rather they had taught him what life means and teach him to feel and enjoy the little things in life.

MC was the love of his life because they didn't see him the way everyone else does, and they still are even now. He remembers a quote from the book MC had recommended to him, "and perhaps it is greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone". Yes, he had loved MC and now they are gone but he could use all that love to love this niece of his as his own daughter and protect her.

Maybe one day, everything will be fine, maybe it will stop hurting but for now he would have to just endure it. He wished that they were still there so he could thank them for everything they had taught him. Thank you MC, for everything you had taught me, for the love you gave to me and the love you taught me to feel. He almost didn't notice the tears that had started running down his cheeks as he cradles Twyla tightly in his arms.

Prev Next

#Spotify #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me angst?#obey me satan #okay this one #i'm not sure how i feel about this one #Did I cry? Sure #but i don't really know i guess #did i actually just quote tsoa? yes yes i did #it's not as angsty as I thought it would turn out but i stil cried #maybe it's because i'm too soft for stuffs like this #idk #welp #also i didn't know any gender neutral names for parents so I searched google and there are a lot and just decided to go with nari #ocelwrites #mine

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alitaimagines · 4 years

Text

character: kuroo testurou - HAIKYUU!!

Mexican reader btw!! this imagine hit a little too close to home. if you get the reference in the imagine, I love you.

song recommendation: lovely - billie eilish, khalid

you were the only manager for Nekoma but not only were you the only manager, you were the cute foreign girl at Nekoma.

your parents had their job relocate them from your home country when you were in middle school. you still struggled a bit in terms of grasping Japanese, however, you knew how to get by and to tease a few of the boys, you spoke Spanish them. it always caught them off guard.

Lev was the worst and best to tease. he got flustered whenever you went up to his ear and spoke Spanish. the one you actively ignored to tease and even speak with was Kuroo.

you had this kind of fronted hate towards him. Kuroo was kind of like you in a way and you hated that about him. he flirted with you to no extent and loved to make you flustered whenever the chance presented itself.

“chibi-chan~,” you heard Kuroo whisper into your ear as you growled. you felt him wrap his arm around you but before he could fully wrap it, you slapped it off of him, “get off,” you threatened making Lev laugh.

Kuroo gave you an offended look, “aww, what’s wrong?” he asked a bit sarcastically, “you know what’s wrong? you’re not practicing so leave,” you said as you started to walk away.

Lev gave his senpai a look, “she really dislike you, Kuroo,” he inquired as Kuroo nodded, “I know but that’s what makes this game of cat and mouse so fun,” he replied before getting ready for practice.

you sat next to the coaches as you wrote a few things down onto your clipboard. the boys were have a preliminary tournament in a few months and you needed to get their rooms situated before the good ones were taken.

“would you mind handing out the waters?” their coach asked. you nodded as you grabbed a handful and passed it out to the very dehydrated players, “thank you, chibi-chan,” Kuroo emphasized as you rolled your eyes before heading over to Kenma.

after you handed the boys the waters, you sat back down next to the coaches. you occasionally kept your phone going off. you wondered who kept texting you but knowing it was unprofessional to answer them, you figured it wasn’t too important or else they would’ve called you.

the practice had felt unusually quicker. it felt like it was only minutes when you heard your coach blow the whistle indicating that the practice was over.

you quickly picked up the stray balls with the help of Lev and a few others. you always could count on Kuroo to wait for you to finish cleaning in order to bother you some more.

“chibi-chan~,” you heard Kuroo said as he approached you. you quickly pulled your phone out to check the messages you had in order to try to get him to leave you alone, “oh chibi-chan!”

you had gotten a few messages from your friends from home. they were at some party and were dancing while screaming they missed you as you heard your favorite song in the background playing.

your face fell from sadness and Kuroo was able to indicate that, “are you okay?” he asked a bit more seriously. you waved him off, trying to fight off the tears, “leave me alone,” you whispered as you shoved him away and went to your book bag to head home.

you had gotten a bit more homesick than usual. your family tended to head back home to visit family once every two years and this year was the gap year you wouldn’t be able to see them. you missed the parties, family members, and food mostly.

you gripped your phone as you wiped your tears away, “hey, what’s wrong?” Kuroo asked once again. you gave him an angry look, “what did I tell you, Tetsu! leave me alone!” you screamed as you tried to walk away form him agian.

Kuroo noticed the tears down your face as he started putting the dots together. you were homesick. he knew you left to visit family every other year and whenever you didn’t go to visit them around this time of year, you would get a bit more feistier than usual.

he stayed in place as he tried to figure out a way to make you feel better. Kuroo knew you hated being center of attention but there was no way you would be able to feel better if you didn’t get the attention, at least for a bit.

as you walked home, you kept replaying the videos your friends sent you. they had been dancing too ‘zapateado endemoniado’ by Marco Flores and drinking a few beers in your honor.

you smiled sadly as you got home, “hi sweetie,” you heard your mom say as you gave them a small wave, “is something wrong?” she asked.

you tossed her your phone as you told her to play the videos. once she realized what they were, she looked up at you and noticed the fresh tears down your face again.

“mija, I know it’s hard,” she whispered as she brought you in for a hug, “but you knew we couldn’t go this year. just know that they’re out there celebrating for you,” you mom tried to comfort.

you nodded as you removed yourself, “I have homework to finish up before I come down for dinner,” you told her as you grabbed your bag and headed up to your room.

just as you got to your room, you plopped down on your bed and popped your headphones in. you started blasting the song from the video as you shut your eyes to listen to it.

the following morning arrived as you slipped on your uniform and put your coffee in the mug. your mom tended to leave earlier than you so it was really up to you to get yourself up in time.

as you got to Nekoma, you noticed Kuroo already waiting for you at the front of the school. considering your mood, Kuroo was the last person you even wanted to talk too.

“chibi-chan!” Kuroo sang as you gave him a dead-panned look, “what? Kuroo, what?” you asked as you finally looked at him in the eyes, “what is wrong with you?” Kuroo asked as he grabbed your wrist and dragged you to a small secluded corner.

you sighed running your fingers through your hair, “you wanna know? I’m homesick. I wanna go back home, visit my family, dance to music with my friends!” you screamed, “but no, I can’t have that because I’m thousands of miles away and I won’t be seeing them anytime soon,” you continued.

Kuroo didn’t know how to respond so he remained silent.

“exactly, you wouldn’t know how that feels so how about you leave me the hell alone,” you replied before leaving the corner.

he stayed in place as he watched you walk towards your homeroom. Kuroo knew the reason why you homesick but now that you told him, his plans from the night before were going to become true.

a few days had passed and although you mood had gotten a little better but it wasn’t like your usual perky, flirty self yet. Lev had missed you coming to him to make him flustered and Kuroo missed flirting and teasing you.

you had changed into your manager uniform before shoving you school uniform into your backpack and walking to the practice gym.

once you got to the gym, you noticed that it was unusually quiet. you opened the gym doors to see Kuroo standing in the middle of the gym with a small remote in his hand while the others were sitting down on the bleachers.

“what the hell is going on?” you asked everyone as your face scrunched in confusion, “guys, I’m not in the mood,” you quietly pleaded before hearing your favorite song start to play through the speakers.

your eye twitched as Kuroo came towards, “we noticed how down you’ve been since you’ve gotten a bit homesick so we all decided to skip a day of practice to bring you this,” he told you before blaring one of your current favorite songs.

you gave him a look as they brought out a tray of different foods, “we had to look around for a few days to find some of your favorite foods but we did!” Lev exclaimed as you felt tears starting to form.

the team looked at you in fear, “oh my god, we didn’t even think of how bad this could be,” Yaku explained, “it’s gonna make her feel worse,” Kenma added on as they watched you tried to gain your composure back.

without much though, you immediately embraced Kuroo as you heard everyone gasp from surprise, “you guys did this all for me?” you asked softly as you felt Kuroo’s chest vibrate from laughing, “yeah! well, Kuroo was the one who nearly planned everything and the rest of us set up the gym this morning,” Lev explained.

you gave them a smile before individually giving everyone else a hug. after you finished, you immediately told them to dig into the food before it got too cold.

“hey, I’m gonna get the drinks from the back room,” you heard Kuroo say, “I’ll help Tetsu,” you told him as you quickly followed behind.

he was surprised that you even offered to help but as soon as you got into the storage closet, you pulled him up against the wall and gave him the long awaited kiss he wanted.

“hey, what’s this all about, chibi-chan?” he asked as you broke away, “you went out of your way to try and help me feel better, I thought this could be the start of me repaying you that favor,” you whispered as he jokingly rolled his eyes.

“now if you ask me on a date, maybe this returned favor can last longer,” Kuroo realized what you were implying and nodded his head yes, “Saturday? we can get dinner?”

you got up on your tiptoes and gave him another kiss for confirmation, “I’ll be waiting for you to pick me up,” and with that, you grabbed the case of water before bringing to the rest of the team.

“count on it, chibi-chan~.”

ALITA

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! imagine #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsurou x reader #anime imagine #anime x reader #anime x you #anime

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alchemist-shizun · 4 years

Text

Why and wherefore

Ts taglist: @whizzie72 @sapphire-knight @burningpersonflapsuitcase @softanxiouspatton @royallyanxious @kim-argent-moon @lance-alt @suffering-is-my-comfort-zone @sometimeswritingsometimesdying @pushussmollworld @mylifeisadeceit @spooky-scary-virgil @angstyfanfiction @artissijam @logicalberry @pistachio-lan @roses-bubbles (tell me if you want to be added or removed)

Specific fic taglist: @princessnoodlebug @pinkie-does-fandoms @punsandpodcasts @aceacebaby12345 @not-so-daily-deceit-doodles @pleasantpostmoon @justanotherfanderwriter @mudpuddlenl @sapphic-nd @linhammon-roll-bromance101 @sar-kasstic

Word Count: 2,662

Characters: Mainly Deceit, Virgil and Remus, other sides and Thomas are there briefly.

Pairing(s): Everything's platonic babes

Warning(s): Paranoia, anxiety, angst, crying, fear of abandonment, overthinking, internalizing emotions (tell me if I missed anything)

Summary: Necklaces shared for a never ending friendship. One that paused, but never stopped glowing under dark cloth. And one that, eventually, will shine in the light again.

A/N: Oof I'm so late! Happy birthday to Deceit, this is in his honour, of course I could only gift him angst. I hope y'all like it, it didn't turn out how I expected it to, but maybe you can appreciate it more than me. That said, enjoy!

✾

❝ Take your time, take it from me.

It ain't yours, and nothing comes free.

I'll keep your time 'til someone can see,

When the beat hits your feet,

Aren't you lost and lonely? ❞

Thump, thump, thump.

Virgil jolted up, despite being awake for as long as he had tried to put himself to sleep. No matter how hard he forced his eyes and mind to shut, his breathing and heartbeat wouldn't slow down.

What if, his thoughts told him, driving him sick, what if they abandoned you?

He brought his hands to his face and dug his nails onto his forehead as though to shut that voice up.

They did already, didn't they? Virgil growled, not wanting to believe that, you're in the dark by yourself. They don't want you. You're alone.

That one last line stuck with him and replayed everywhere, in front of him, written on the walls, on the stars. Howling in the wind there was loneliness.

His only loyal companion.

Tears had just started streaming down his face when the door of his room opened with a soft click.

Virgil looked at his side and found Deceit turning on his bedside lamp before focusing on the kid half-trembling on the mattress.

« Hey, sweetie. » his melodious voice had an instant calming down effect.

He reached out and moved from his face a lock of hair which was hiding his eyes. Virgil sniffed one last time.

« Had a nightmare? » Deceit's tone changed to a bittersweet one.

This kid shook his head and gripped at the covers tighter.

« Are you going to leave? »

« Oh, Virgil. » Deceit's expression possibly softened more, he then took Virgil's hands and smiled at him, capturing his attention with his eyes. « There will never be a reason for me to do that. » he reassured.

But Virgil wasn't convinced. He stopped crying, yet his gaze fell to the ground.

Deceit looked around, searching for something to spark an idea into him.

« Listen here. » he finally said, gaining a glance from Virgil. « Would you like something to remind you I'll always be here? »

Anxiety seemed to genuinely reflect, he would have made a good use of a material object for when he couldn't reach out to anyone.

He nodded.

« How about this? » Deceit cupped his hands, everything around his palms and fingers glowed of a bright light that blinded both of their eyes.

As it died, it revealed two necklaces with different coloured and shaped pendants, one of a two-headed snake and a storm cloud with a lightning bolt.

Deceit handed Virgil the yellow one. « You can have my symbol, so it can comfort you whenever you need me. » he asserted. The kid let the necklace fall gently in his palms, eyes widened with the surprise of such a treasure.

« Are they like the bracelets you and Remus share? » he questioned while his fingers worked on undoing the lock of his new accessory.

Deceit helped him in the process until it finally hanged around his neck. « Sort of. » he allowed with a small nod.

He smiled to himself as Virgil admired the pendant.

« As for me, » he then continued, undoing his own storm cloud necklace. « I'll wear this for as long as you're important to me. » his hand lingered on the purple cloud. « Which I know is a time that will never end. »

Virgil smiled softly and surged forwards to wrap his arms around Deceit's chest. The other returned the hug, maybe a bit tighter than needed, such was his fondness for the side.

« Do you need me to stay for the night? »

« No, it's okay. » Virgil loosened the embrace, then brushing the chain of his necklace. « I have you here, anyway. » he laid back down on his bed, satisfied with the gift.

After kissing his forehead and tucking his sheets, Deceit wished him a goodnight and went back to tend to his own tasks in the peace of the night.

✾

Deceit couldn't understand.

They had worn them proudly for years.

No matter what they were doing, where they were going, their necklaces were always with them, or at least by their side.

So he couldn't understand it when Virgil had come back to the dark sides' living room with no sign of the trademark yellow snake shining on his shirt.

It had brought Deceit's mood down, especially when Anxiety so nonchalantly talked to him and Remus, not realizing his deed.

Yet, he didn't speak up about it.

He simply bit his tongue and tasted bitter displeasure.

It wasn't like the end of the world was upon him, and maybe that didn't mean anything at all or perhaps he had really been overthinking it too much.

But what if he was right?

Or still completely wrong: it could have meant a completely positive thing! Virgil didn't need reassurance anymore, he didn't need a constant reminder anymore, he didn't … need him anymore.

So the tormenting feeling loomed over Deceit before he was able to defeat it entirely.

Multiple questions of inevitable impending doom filled his thinking loud enough for him to be unable to follow the conversation.

He was clearly overreacting, wasn't he?

Virgil had noticed his change in demeanour over time, the almost imperceptible shift he had made.

He asked Deceit whether he was okay or not, called him back into the conversation when he zoned out, tried to confront him on multiple occasions with no success whatsoever.

He had also stopped him once, tugging at his sleeve before he could get away. Virgil was used to do that, always too timid to speak up first.

Deceit turned to face him, who calmly stared back at him, trying his best to mask his suspicion.

« What's wrong? » Virgil's voice was so low it struggled to come out.

Deceit shrugged. « I don't know. Everything's okay. » as much as lying was his thing, he had refrained from doing it during a serious conversation before.

« I'm not so sure about that. » Anxiety's gaze fell to the floor.

« You think there's something wrong? »

« I guess, I mean- you … » he gesticulated, unable to express himself.

« So it's me. » who would've thought.

« I don't know! » Virgil's tone got louder with exasperation. « You're just so off lately. »

« Care to elaborate? » Deceit squinted his eyes, sounding neutral as ever, which never let Virgil understand whether he was stepping in the right or wrong direction.

« You don't tell me what's on your mind anymore. » there it was. « You avoid any conversation about your feelings or issues, just like you were doing right now. » Virgil's mouth scrunched. « It's like you don't trust me. Like everything changed at once and … I don't know. » he was wearing the necklace that day. Deceit found it hypocritical. « Did I do something wrong? »

« No. »

« Then what is it? » he urged, he couldn't just roam in the oblivion much longer.

« It's nothing, like I told you. » Deceit's own voice got higher, but kept up the act. There was no way he was going to let him know.

Virgil brushed his hands on his face, defeated. « Do you just want me to leave you alone? » he finally asked, eyes slightly wider.

« Yes! »

Silence. Silence because Deceit thought he could have stopped himself when he didn't. When he should have.

And he was going to regret it.

« Okay. » Virgil murmured and stood up from his seat. « Alright. » he left the room without sparing a single glance for him.

Deceit blinked multiple times and reached for his pendant, which was now digging in his palm. There was a slight shot of pain while he reminded himself that it was just a bad day and Virgil was going to forget and those tears pooling in his eyes weren't necessary and he could have let his emotions go numb so he couldn't suffer.

He let go of the pendant, breathed out deeply and everything was fine.

Everything was fine.

✾

Remus had been helpful. Truly helpful, if only Deceit wasn't so stubborn.

He tried to get help, get suggestions and then never acted on them. Which then became his point to never ask for opinions: why would you let others down with your inaction when you could just … bottle it up and never bring it up again?

Deceit was going to learn why it was wrong the hard way.

Remus had suggested to talk to Virgil, let him know of all his paranoid thoughts, and he was kind of convinced.

But when the air felt too cold and constricting around them whenever they were together, it was simply impossible.

And it was also too late.

There was a door they never opened, one that led to the light sides' part of the mindscape.

That day, Virgil opened it and he wasn't wearing his usual clothes, nor the necklace.

Remus and Deceit stared at him, one in silent disbelief, the other was … too indescribable.

« Are you going to leave? » said like a mother to a son on a Saturday night, but with a completely different meaning.

Virgil stared back at Deceit with a dull expression, the same neutral glare that had glanced back at him until then. « I don't think you should wear that necklace anymore. »

He closed the door behind himself and left the sore aura to dawn on the remaining sides.

« Dee? »

Deceit was staring ahead of himself.

There, he had ruined everything. Not only he had just lost Virgil, but also disappointed Remus for not following his suggestions.

« Deceit? »

He was going to be mad, he was going to fight with him and then leave too.

You wanted to be left alone, didn't you?

« Hoi. » Deceit looked up at him and realized he was pushing the pendant into his skin again.

With a swift movement, he pulled the necklace to the side and broke the chain free from his neck, then threw it and let it fall onto the other side of the couch.

Deceit got up and marched to his room.

Remus picked up the necklace, a sour look still painting his face with bitterness; he started to fix the chain and ultimately sighed.

« When are you going to give a proper reaction? »

He left the necklace by his room and then headed to the imagination.

There was a lot of stuff he needed to vent.

✾

Not many days had passed. However, they were all the same and neither had gotten used to it.

Deceit was at the kitchen counter, like every other morning, and Remus was trying to get his attention, like in every other interaction they had.

« You're not wearing your necklace? »

« No. » Deceit's moves were almost mechanical, his voice low, half-lidded eyes careless of where they set upon.

« Lies. » Remus reached out and gently pulled the chain out from under Deceit's clothes. « You're also internalizing everything. »

« I'm not. »

« Lies, yet again. » he got up from his seat and faced him, forcing Deceit to focus on him. He put his hands on Deceit's shoulders. « Are you okay, D? »

« Of course. » he heard his voice crack, maybe those were tears in his eyes and for only an instant Remus hoped he could make him open up.

« You don't only speak in lies, huh? »

Remus pulled him in a hug that could have only grown tighter. Deceit felt his entire body shake before he returned it and sank into the embrace, gripping at his back like a lifesaver.

He hiccuped, then sobbed and cried out any and all negative emotions that were poisoning his insides.

Deceit buried his head in the other's clothes so to not see his own reality and be aware of his current condition.

What was really good of Remus, was that he really didn't care much about certain trivial things. He didn't care when his clothes got wet with tears, he didn't care if Deceit spoke through hiccups, if he was barely able to stand on his feet.

« It just … » Remus had led him to sit on the couch with a cup of tea in his hands. « It feels like he left something here. »

« What do you mean? »

Deceit showed a sad smile. « I've kept driving myself anxious because of all the paranoid thoughts that never leave my mind. » he explained, staring at the white swirls in his tea. « It just feels like he's around. »

« Like when he couldn't control his powers when he first came here. » Remus chuckled.

« Yeah, and Orange started being afraid of everything. » a genuine smile spread on Deceit's lips.

Dark Creativity snorted. « He was scared of his own shade! » he couldn't help but burst out in a boisterous laughter, infecting his friend.

Which then led to tears. « Holy fuck. » Remus's own smile faltered and he wiped away the tears, though more came, and he found himself crying, too.

Deceit extended an arm out to him, inviting him to sit next to him.

They were silent for a while, letting the realization sink in.

« Will Orange leave his room anytime soon? »

« I don't know. »

« Should we check on him? »

« Yeah, let's. »

« And also, » Remus's expression returned serious altogether as he got up. « I think we should start showing up to Thomas. »

✾

Joy, joy and satisfactory bliss he almost couldn't believe he had reached.

Deceit was looking at five smiling faces and they were staring back at him with no bad intent, with no subtext of conflict.

It wasn't a dream, it wasn't an act and it wasn't a lie. This time, he had done it.

Thomas had finally accepted him as a true necessary part of himself and he had managed to resolve his issues with the other sides.

He still almost couldn't believe it, he couldn't believe how those happy and proud gazes were all directed to him, and yet he could have bathed in the sunshine happiness radiating from each of them.

« Lying can be good. » Thomas asserted, nodding and still smiling, his look soft and welcoming, his hands clasped together in an unordinary position. « I know you're looking out for me now. Thank you. »

Deceit breathed out, enjoying this new state of comfort he was going to adapt to. He didn't know what to say anymore, he didn't even realize he could have gotten that far.

But it was okay, because when he intercepted Virgil's eyes, he noticed he wanted to talk to him.

Virgil opened his mouth only to close it again and squint his eyes at the ground. Okay, he thought, I can do this.

He reached for something under his shirt and pulled out the necklace Deceit had gifted him that one night when he had needed him most. And he was there for him.

Just as much as Virgil was now there for him to support the new perspective they had of him.

Deceit's hand ghosted over his own necklace, at which he started tugging afterwards. « You're wearing it? » he looked in the exact amount of disbelief as the others, only that the others' leaned to confusion, while his own was a firework of contentment.

Virgil smiled wider. « I never stopped. »

And then, seeing Deceit's expression growing more incredulous, he added, echoing the other's own old words. « There will never be a reason for me to do that. »

This time, the one to be convinced, despite the tears in his eyes, was Deceit.

#purp's writings #deceit sanders #ts deceit #sanders sides deceit #remus sanders #ts remus #virgil sanders #ts virgil #character thomas #sanders sides #fanfiction #ts fanfic #deceit's birthday #angst #read the warnings

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youngjusticeslut · 5 years

Text

Mirror Image (Chapter 2)

Fandom: Young Justice Links: FF.net // AO3 Characters: Lian Harper, Roy Will Harper, Jade Nguyen Ships: RedCat Summary: After seven years, Jade returns home to meet her daughter. It’s not as simple as she thought it would be. Rating: T Word Count: 4836 Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters.

So, fun fact. I said this would be a two-shot and I lied because the second chapter got too long. Whoops! Now this is a three shot. There’s a lot of Harper Family Feels in this chapter, so I hope y’all like it <3

Unexpected visitors in the middle of the night were not an uncommon occurrence at the Harper household.

Though Will was no longer an active vigilante, there was an unspoken rule that anyone would be welcome at his house, at any hour, should they need it. Will didn't mind the intrusion, it kept him in the loop with a lot of the hero-drama. He also remembered what it felt like to be against the world, on his own. If the least he could do was offer someone a place to sleep and a cup of instant noodles, then that was enough in his book. Besides, how else was he to grow his ever lengthening list of babysitters for Lian?

The knock on his front door had come at two in the morning. Normally, Will would have been fast asleep, either comfy in his bed or with a TV show playing in the living room. Not tonight, though. He hadn't been able to even think of sleep after Lian's outburst; how could he? His daughter was having a crisis behind the closed doors of her room, and he could do nothing to help it.

Some parents would have gotten mad at him for leaving her to cry. The moms on the PTA, for instance. They would have immediately berated Will, insisting that the correct thing to do was to go back in and comfort her. They'd cluck at him and shake their heads, insisting this was typical 'single-dad' behavior, forever clueless. That's what he got for having a kid so young.

But Will knew better.

Lian didn't get upset often, but when she did, he could solve most her issues with a tight hug, some reassuring words and a karate movie marathon. This wasn't one of those times. He could count the number of times Lian had gotten to this point of distress on one hand, and a simple hug wouldn't solve it.

The first time she'd been this upset was when he'd gone missing for two weeks. Every now and then, he would take up a simple mission, if only to keep from getting too rusty. Sometimes the call of the chase was too much to bear and he missed the adrenaline rush of his youth. The mission should have been simple, in and out. Instead it had gone awry, and he and Roy were left on the run for a agonizing number of days. Lian was so angry, she wouldn't speak to him when he returned home. By the time he finally coaxed her into saying something, she screamed that she hated him for the first time. Two hours later, after she'd stewed in her bedroom, she came out and wouldn't leave his side all night.

In the rare instances in which she got like this, leaving her alone to self-soothe seemed to work out the best. It wasn't easy, though. Will kept glancing at her bedroom door, wishing that he could go in and comfort her. When the crying ceased, he figured she was asleep and allowed himself to relax. Then he cleaned. And organized. And baked. Jade had made fun of him for his endless need to be productive, but Will was certain it was part of his clone programming. He'd tried to quell it over the years, but the urge still lingered.

Will had just pulled a tray of triple fudge brownies, Lian's favorite, from the oven when he heard the knock on the door. Setting the tray down, he removed the oven mitts and wiped his hands on his sweats, heading for the door. Whenever he had visitors, he would play a little guessing game to try and figure out who it would be on the other side of the door. Most times, it was Kaldur. Sometimes, it was Artemis needing a break from Wally and the toddlers; though they didn't live together anymore, Will couldn't deny that he missed her presence around the house. Depending on the time of night, he had a pretty good shot at guessing if it were the younger members of the team. If it was before midnight or after five, odds were it was them, as they usually wanted to see Lian before they left. Any time in between, it was likely one of his friends.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before looking at the clock. If Will had to place his best bet, it was either Kaldur or Dick, needing a cup of tea and someone to talk to.

However, it was neither.

Jade cocked her head to the side, hand clutched tight around the strap of her duffel. "Did I wake you, Red?"

"Jesus Christ," Will muttered, rubbing his eyes and wondering if she would disappear.

She laughed, leaning against the doorway. "Not a nightmare. Am I late?"

He removed his hand and narrowed his eyes. "Funny. I've forgotten how funny you are."

"It's a living. Are you going to invite me in?"

"That depends." Will crossed his arms, unsure yet whether to pull her into his arms, or shake her senseless for being so late. "Are you going to sneak in through the window if I don't?"

Jade laughed, coarse but light. "Thought I'd do things the easy way. It's not easy getting a duffel through the window, you know."

He did know, and he preferred the front door. As much as he wanted to let her have a piece of his mind and refuse her entry, this was Jade; his Jade. He knew that she would explain in her own time. Will stepped aside to let her in and returned to the kitchen to turn off the oven.

It was odd having Jade home. Will had a plethora of things he wanted to say to her, things he'd kept saved up for months at a time. Yet every time he spoke to her, or saw her, all his words flew straight out the window. What could he say that he hadn't said before?

Come home.

I can't. You know why I can't.

Lian misses you.

I miss her more.

This is the last time we're doing this. You're either in or out, Jade.

Mm, you're the one going in and out, Loverboy.

Yeah, when it came to Jade, Will wasn't always at the top of his game. His wife's presence tended to zap him of most logical thinking. Given that he only got to experience her a few times a year, if that, he wasn't one to waste it.

"Something smells good."

Will turned the oven off, grabbing the kettle and filling it with water from the sink. "Brownies. They're for Lian."

"Special occasion?"

"Crisis, actually." He could feel her eyes on him, watching his every move as he popped the top back on the kettle and set it to boil on the stove. Will leaned against the counter, looking over his wife. Jade looked good. Her hair was pulled back into its usual ponytail, covered by the baseball cap, but it seemed longer than the last time he'd seen her. She looked thinner, too. But… happy. He didn't want to hope that it was because she was home.

Jade took a step forward, gently grabbing his wrist. "Crisis?" She raised a brow, nearly smirking. "Boy troubles?"

Will rolled his eyes, pulling his wrist back. "She's nine, Jade."

"Never too early to start," she purred. "Boys are going to be all over her, you know. All that red hair is sure to attract them."

As much as the thought of boys made Will's blood boil, he couldn't help but somber at the mention of Lian's hair. "Not anytime soon," he said, taking out two mugs from the cabinet above his head. "You still like green tea?"

"Naturally."

"This'll take a minute." He nodded in the direction of his bedroom. "Freshen up if you want to. I don't think I put away the stuff I bought for you yet."

"You'll have to be a little more specific, Dear."

"Toiletries. You said you were coming for two weeks, and from what I remember, you're not much of a packer."

Jade took a step closer, almost pressing herself to him. "Will you join me?"

The thought was tempting. If it had been any other night, Will would have thrown everything off the counter and picked her up, closing the distance between them in a matter of seconds. It was pathetic, really, how much he missed having her around.

Will shook his head, stepping away from her and starting to cut up the brownies. "Not tonight, Jade."

He waited until he heard the shower running to finally relax, slumping against the kitchen table and resting his head against the painted wood. Of all times for Jade to show up, she just had to pick now. How convenient that she couldn't have come a day, hell, even a few hours earlier. They could have prevented this entire thing with Lian.

But now his daughter knew the truth. Will wasn't sure Lian would want to see Jade, let alone speak with her.

To say Lian felt awful was an understatement.

She woke up the next morning, laying in bed and replaying the previous day's events on a vicious cycle. Lian was often too brave for her own good, but there were occasional instances in which she were a little apprehensive. Like the time Artemis and her Dad had to coax her out of the bathroom before the school play. Or the time she'd had to give a girl an apology letter for punching her in the nose. Now she wished it were that simple. After what she'd yelled at her Dad last night, she couldn't bear to face him quite yet.

Instead she looked to the trash, where her cheshire plush lay, covered in a small mountain of red hair. Lian swallowed, messing with what remained on her head. Picture day was next week, and all her aunts and uncles would request a print. She would be willing to bet that this year's picture wouldn't be going in anyone's wallet.

From her room, she could smell breakfast. Chocolate chip pancakes, her favorite. She couldn't decide if it was an olive branch, or a bribe. Her stomach growled all the same.

They had to talk about last night, Lian knew that much. An apology was probably expected. As was an 'I'm disappointed in you, you know better' speech. Yeah, that was definitely coming. She thrust a pillow over her head, groaning and knowing that she was only making things worse by delaying. The grown up thing to do was to go out and face the music, no matter how unpleasant the consequences.

Before she could will herself up from the bed, a quick knock came. She lifted the pillow off her head to see Will poking his head inside. He gave a soft smile, seeing her awake. "Hey Squeaker. Thought you were still sleeping."

"If only," Lian muttered, making her Dad chuckle.

He entered her room and closed the door behind him. "Can I sit?"

"It's too early for us to talk about this," she groaned, putting the pillow back on. "I beg of you, not now."

Will laughed again, but to Lian's dismay he didn't leave. Instead her floorboards groaned as he came closer. The pillow was unceremoniously lifted from her head and set to the side, and Lian glared right up at the amusement on his face. "You wound me, Li. Really," Will said, climbing onto her bed and laying opposite from her.

Lian sighed and pulled the blankets closer. "Please. Not now."

"Not now," he agreed, resting a hand on her head. "Someone's here to see you."

"I don't want to see anyone, Dad. Not like this."

Will messed a bit with her hair and laughed, but not cruelly. "Yeah, not your best look. We'll need to fix that at some point. Or you could take another crack at it. I have clippers in the bathroom if you really want to go stick it to your mom."

"Ha ha. You're hilarious," Lian muttered, shooting him a glare. "I'm laughing so hard right now."

"I can see that," he mused, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Sorry, I shouldn't tease. But your old man has to get his kicks in when he can. It's not often that I'm not the one on the receiving end."

Lian knew it was true, but she didn't feel like owning up to it at the moment. "Who's here? Is it Uncle Kal?"

He shook his head. "Wrong gender."

"Auntie?"

"Close. Try… her sister."

Her eyes widened. "You're lying. You have to be lying."

Will sighed, pulling Lian into his arms and holding her tight against his chest. She didn't fight him off, her heart beating erratically. It couldn't be. Her mom wasn't supposed to be here.

"Please say you're joking," Lian squeaked, her throat growing tight.

"I'd never joke about this," Will said. "She came while you were sleeping."

"And you let her in?" Lian pulled away from him, sitting up and taking a shaky breath. "She's Cheshire. An assassin for the League of Shadows."

He nodded, following her lead and sitting up. "I know. She's also my wife. And your mother."

Lian scoffed, looking away. "How could you marry her? Didn't you know what you were doing?"

"I did." Will grabbed her chin, turning her face to look at him. "I made a lot of mistakes when I was younger. Marrying Jade wasn't one of them."

"She's a killer, Daddy! How could it not be a mistake?" she snapped.

"It gave me you. If we'd never gotten married, you wouldn't be here, Lian." Will got off the bed, shooting a quick glance at the trash can. "It's complicated, Lian. But I didn't fall in love with Cheshire. I fell for Jade."

"Jade left us."

"Maybe it's time you knew why." He rested his hand on the doorknob. "But not from me. If you want answers, you'll have to ask her."

Lian grimaced. "If you think I'm talking to her-"

Will held up a hand to stop her. "You don't have to. But she's here to see you. And for what it's worth… I really think you'll want to hear what she has to say," he explained. "I meant what I said last night. She loves you, Lian. More than anything. Cheshire or not, she's your mother. Leaving you was never something she wanted to do."

"You sure about that?" Lian asked, putting a pillow over her head again.

He shook his head; just like her mother, Lian had a flair for the overdramatic. "I am. You don't want breakfast?"

"Not if she's out there."

"Suit yourself. I'll put it on the counter if you change your mind."

Jade didn't particularly care for sweets.

It probably had to do with her upbringing, how her family wasn't well off enough to feed them sugar whenever they pleased. Lawrence would never keep it inside the house, and Jade hadn't particularly cared enough to seek it out. The habit stuck with her as she grew, and she generally stayed on a strict diet.

However, she always made an exception for Will's cooking.

"These pancakes are divine," she remarked from the kitchen, swallowing the mouthful with a sip of tea. Will returned to the kitchen, frowning as he looked her over.

"Wearing my clothes, I see."

"Not much of a packer," Jade reminded. Really, she couldn't deny herself the habit. There was something about wearing her husband's clothes that filled up a hole she'd left open for so long. The hole wouldn't close forever, but a temporary patch served its purpose.

Will scoffed. "You brought an entire duffel this time."

"I told you on the phone," Jade said, waving a forkful of pancake at him. "It's not my stuff. They're presents for Lian."

"Right," he sighed, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Just don't steal it this time."

"No promises, Red." Jade looked towards Lian's door before resting her chin in her palm. "I suppose she doesn't want to see me."

"Can you blame her?" Will took a long drink of his coffee, glancing up towards the ceiling. "She just found out that everyone's been lying to her about you. I'd be pissed, too."

Jade hummed, holding her mug in her other hand. No, she didn't blame her. If she were Lian, she would never speak to her again. But she was her mother, which entitled her to a certain amount of selfishness. She hadn't seen her daughter up close in seven years. Not face to face, at least. Will sent pictures when he could, and Jade treasured every one, but it wasn't the same. She was long overdue for a visit, and the thought of seeing Lian again kept her going.

If she would only come out of her room.

"Should I go talk to her?"

"Absolutely not. If she wants to see you, she'll come out. If not, then…"

She raised a brow. "Then what, Will?"

"Then maybe you should go." Her reaction must have shown on her face, for Will left the counter and joined her at the table, taking her hand. "It's not that I don't want you to stay. But if she doesn't want you here, my hands are tied, Chesh."

Jade snatched her hand away. "Don't call me that. Not here."

She'd been looking forward to this visit since she'd suggested it. Enough time had passed that nobody would think of looking for her, of wondering what she was up to. Jade had planned to spend weeks with them, finally getting to spend time with the daughter and husband she wanted but wouldn't allow herself to have.

"Jade."

Her fists clenched, threatening to break the handle of the mug she was still holding. "I want to see my daughter. It's been seven years," she said, unable to stop her voice from wavering.

"You think I don't know how long it's been? You chose to leave, Jade. You chose to stay out of her life."

"I didn't have a choice, Will."

"Didn't you? You didn't even think to try otherwise," he bit out, sharper than intended. "Rationalize it however you want, you left a broken daughter behind. She thinks you don't love her."

Jade swallowed; with just a few words, all the holes she'd attempted to patch over the years were torn back open. "You know that's not true."

"Don't I?" he scoffed. "You haven't spoken to her in four years. Why is that? A fucking phone call, Jade. Are they tracking those now, too?"

She pushed herself away from the table before she could let the tears fall. Of course Jade loved her daughter. The fact that she'd distanced herself from her had nothing to do with that.

Will followed after her, grabbing her arm. "I won't let you run away, not this time."

"Why?" Jade spat, trying to yank her arm away but remaining unsuccessful. "Were you not finished? I'm sorry, go on, Will. Go on and continue telling me things I already know!" She angrily swiped her eyes, refusing to let him see her cry.

She loved Lian, and that's why she stayed away.

If she saw her, or even spoke to her, she'd come running back. Jade couldn't risk her life for a selfish drive of motherhood. So she made do with pictures and letters and anecdotes from Will, eating herself up on the inside.

Will rested his hand on her cheek. "I'm sorry. I was out of line."

"No, Will." Jade looked at Lian's door, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from crying again. "You're so in line, you may as well be sober."

"That was bad," he chuckled, resting his head on top of hers. "Get dressed, we'll go on a walk. Clear our heads a bit."

Jade nodded, running a hand through her hair. "You think she'll come out?"

Will took her hand, pressing it to his lips. "She's more like you than you know."

Lian was always a particularly good eavesdropper; it's how she found out that she was going to Disney World for her sixth birthday. Will had learned to be extra careful over the years, but her skills only improved in compensation.

The argument between her parents was one she wished she'd had the tact to miss out on.

She sat against her door, knees pulled to her chest, playing it over in her mind. For as long as she could remember, her dad always defended her. Always made sure he had something nice to say about the woman who gave her life. It was clear that his anger at her was something Lian hadn't been meant to hear. She couldn't make up her mind on what it meant, and the curiosity was gnawing away at her.

On the one hand, her mother was still Cheshire. Still an assassin, still a part of the Shadows.

On the other, she was her mom. Even now, despite everything, she wanted to see her, to feel her embrace and finally get to know the woman who'd been missing for most of her life.

It seemed there was no easy answer to this dilemma. Lian almost laughed when she thought it, for she heard it in her Uncle Kaldur's voice. He'd probably have some stellar advice at the moment. Artemis, too. What she wouldn't have given to have them both here, so she could ask them what to do.

Lian heard her parents return a while later, both sounding in better spirits than before. More than once she'd tried the doorknob, only to chicken and pull away. What if her mom wasn't what she expected? It was entirely likely that the assassin didn't do hugs. All of Lian's expectations of rushing into her mom's arms, burying her face into her chest would be shattered. Worse, what if she wasn't what Jade expected? All she had to go off of was a few pictures, the real Lian might be a disappointment.

As she fretted, the clock ticked on; breakfast time passed, and then lunch. Her stomach growled, but the nervous churning kept her from truly feeling hungry. Lian remained fretting, choosing to spend her time procrastinating instead of facing the issue. She cleaned her room. For once, she even finished her homework without Will having to remind her.

Somewhere between the fifth math problem and the last, curiosity won out. Lian could hear them talking, no longer arguing. The smells of dinner permeated her bedroom, and her mouth began to water. Worse came to worse, she could always return to her bedroom. If she didn't want to see her, she was sure that Jade wouldn't return. Avoiding her mirror, she changed out of her pajamas and into clothes. She definitely didn't want to think about what she looked like, at the moment.

A deep breath, and she left her bedroom.

"Careful, careful," Lian heard her Dad chide. "You have to keep stirring the meat, otherwise it'll burn."

"Remember when we had that apartment in Gotham? I nearly burnt the kitchen down trying to make chicken."

Lian's heart skipped a beat, realizing that it was Jade who answered. It really was her. She crept closer on socked feet, praying they didn't hear her. Upon reaching the kitchen, she paused, lingering by the doorway. It all seemed so surreal, watching the two of them cook dinner together. She hadn't seen her Dad that happy in… well, ever.

"How could I forget? The oven was never the same."

"It was shitty to begin with, Red. We weren't exactly living in the laps of luxury, then."

"Just keep stirring, Jade. When it's all browned, go ahead and add the canned tomatoes. I'll be right back." Will turned and looked at his daughter, nodding to the living room. Careful not to make a sound, she nodded and led the way She was surprised he'd even known she was there; must be a dad thing.

As soon as they were well enough away, Will crouched down and gave a small smile. "So. That's your mom. Thought I'd give you a second before ratting you out to her."

Lian swallowed, looking back in the direction of the kitchen. "She probably knew. Shadows have… have super hearing," she said lamely.

"Nah." Will reached up, brushing a short lock of hair out of her face. "I mean, she does. But she wasn't expecting you. Do you want to come meet her?"

She shook her head, her throat growing tight again. "She won't like me."

"Lian Nguyen-Harper, you cut that out," Will scolded, both hands firm on her cheeks. "She wants to see you. And I'm willing to bet all my arrows that you want to meet her."

She smiled. "Even the limited edition ones?"

"Especially those. Now, come on." He stood back up, holding his hand out to her. "You can hold my hand if you're nervous."

There were many reasons Lian loved her dad. He wasn't perfect, but he always made sure she knew her feelings were valid, even if they were dumb. She took his hand and squeezed it hard as he led her back to the kitchen. Lian was sure the neighbors next door could hear how loud her heart was beating, and her dad was probably in pain from how white his hand was turning, but he said nothing as they paused just inside the entryway.

"Jade."

The ebony-haired woman turned at her name. Nobody said anything as Jade looked at Lian; the girl was sure she'd stopped breathing. Will let go of her hand and gave her a gentle push forward, but Lian's words were lost to her. She didn't know what to say.

Jade was the one to break the stillness. She turned the stove off first, wiping her hands on her pants before going over to her daughter. She was hesitant in her movements, as if everything were calculated. It seemed forever until she finally crouched before her. Lian held her breath as the woman reached her hand forward, caressing her cheek with a tenderness she never would have expected.

"You look just like your father," she whispered, her voice thick.

Will laughed, resting his hand on Lian's head. "I don't know. Everyone else says she looks like you."

"They're blind," Jade said, never lifting her eyes from Lian's face. Pictures didn't do her daughter justice; Jade couldn't believe that the beautiful girl before her was really her daughter. There was no way she had made something so beautiful.

"Do you two want a minute?" Will asked. "I can finish up dinner."

Lian wanted to say no, almost terrified of being alone with her mother, even though she was aching to. More than anything, she wanted to close the distance and hug her hard, but she refused. If Jade wanted to hug her, she would have already.

"I can fix your hair," Jade offered, smoothing it down.

"You don't have to. I was going to take her to a shop tomorrow."

Lian watched her mother roll her eyes, shooting her dad a look. "A barbershop is no place for a little lady. What do you say, Lian?"

The girl's eyes teared up, hearing her say her name for the first time. She nodded, sniffling and trying to wipe her eyes. Lian wasn't sure what she was supposed to feel. Her insides were still aching with the conflict of the matter, unsure whether she should get far away from her or remain close.

Jade grinned, squeezing her cheek. "I'll meet you in the bathroom. Give me two minutes, okay?" Lian nodded again, looking to her dad for reassurance before heading there alone. When Jade didn't move, Will rested a hand on her shoulder.

"She's terrified," Will noted, turning the stove back on. "Give her time. She's been waiting to meet you for most of her life."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jade asked, her hands shaking. "Why didn't you tell me about her?"

"I tried, Jade. You wouldn't listen." It was true. He'd begged her so many times to come home, that Lian needed her. She had refused him, placing herself on the opposite end of the planet just to stay away. Now she'd seen her; now she knew.

"What do I do, Will? She hasn't said a word to me."

"She thinks you're a master assassin," he smirked. "Don't worry, she'll be yelling at you in a hot minute. Just let her get over the initial shock."

Jade sighed, resisting the urge to twist her fingers in an attempt to calm her nerves. "I suppose you're right."

"'Course I am. I'm her dad," he teased, nodding to the bathroom. "Go on, then. Get to know your daughter."

"What if she hates me?"

Will could have laughed. "She asked me the same thing a few minutes ago. Relax, Jade. Just… be you."

Not the assassin, not Cheshire.

Just Jade.

She could do that.

#young justice #lian harper #roy harper #jade nguyen #will harper #artemis crock #yj fanfiction

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blade-revolutions · 6 years

Text

Kai x Lyla first kiss scene (short version)

Due to studying of uni entrance exams, I haven’t written in a long while so I finally had time to sit down and write a bit - even if the piece is truly short.

The events take place in my Beyblade AU which is supernatural / magic powers themed. Both characters are 15.

Darkness.

Lyla Hart can’t seem to be able to see anything past it. Truthfully, she isn’t sure if there could be anything else except for it.

Voices scream, desperate for help, for any sign of humanity. Flames are scattered everywhere.

How could they?

Firstly they sacrificed their own teammates for more glory, more power. Then they burned them, turning their bodies into ash.

The cries of pain and agony echo in Lyla’s ears and she stills. She can’t see the river anymore, or hear the soothing flow of the water as it carries on. The night sky dotted with stars is replaced by the terrifying sight of James and Marcus, a fire is surrounding their whole being. She’s rendered speechless, her body frozen in spot as her mind replays yesterday’s events. She sees the boys breathing harshly, coughing, their skin glistening with sweat due to the unbearable heat. She hears their shouts vividly, their pleas when James says they won’t loose again.

A new gang arrived in town two weeks ago. Rumours began spreading they were the strongest team of the capital and had returned from worldwide competitions abroad. She recalls Hilary’s expression, half-doubtful, half-mocking.

“Just what kind of competitions?” she put her glasses down and arched her brow in disbelief. “As far as I know, no one’s heard of them.”

“Well, we had been out of town for quite a while.” Lyla admits and stares at Hilary expectantly for her response. Both of them were agitated by the appearance of a new group out of nowhere - which proclaimed to be the best in the entire capital.

“Please.” Hilary dismisses her and takes a ship of her tea. “Claiming they’re the best when we’ve never encountered them - not only we, but anyone is suspicious alone. It’d be foolish to believe such claims. We’re not eight.”

Lyla sits on her bed, folding her legs underneath her. She held the urge of sighing pleasantly because her bed is so warm and nothing can be as good as coming back to the comfort of your own bed. “Although that’s true, we’ve lost track of everything. We’ll have to gather more information as soon as possible. Don’t want them running to Kai and Johnny.”

“Tala, Julia and Ian are already on it. Apparently, this supposed gang loves the survival kind of team contests. They are already advertising themselves by placing posters in the city to grab the citizens’ attention for the upcoming tournament. And for the Kai and Johnny part, I definitely agree. They won’t want to know how the boys react to those to who pull the superior act when in reality they’re not.

Lyla is amused by Hilary’s words and the way she views the situation. To think the girl actually encouraged the idea of the boys putting some people in their rightful places entertained her to no end, considering Hilary would scold them for being hot-headed and a bunch of idiots with super powers.

“Wait till Tyson is added to the mix.”

Hilary catches her best friend’s glance and a laugh escaped her throat. “ For once, I’d be looking forward to it.”

She’s been a fire fairy for the past two years and she always perceived magic as the purest form of art and self-expression so when she had a taste of how destructive it could be, something inside her shattered.

Is magic truly evil?

She wants to stay alone and think, to find her sanity and her lost positivity. However that plan is proved to be a major failure when footsteps approach her from behind.

Lyla doesn’t have to turn around. She knows it’s him.

“How long are you gonna stay here like this?”

She merely rolls her eyes. Kai is as critical as usual, he just picked the wrong time for it. Lyla’s grip around her knees tightens and she buries her nose on the top of her knees to prevent the cold air from seeping in and to the rest of her face, despite the fact her attempts are futile.

“Ignoring me won’t make me leave.”

Oh he couldn’t hold himself back from being an ass! Not all hours are the same and Lyla is reluctant to put up with him.

“We’ll do everything to win next time.”

Next time. Heck they knew there wouldn’t be a next time and they still tried. They were willing to do everything, they could do everything. Out of the five, Marcus and James were the only ones with a heart and real potential to become better. Yet, death decided it was time to take away whatever good that gang had. Them.

A tear cascades her cheek. It was unfair, it still is unfair. They didn’t deserve any of this.

“You’ll have to leave sometime, Lyla.” Kai huffs.

Can’t. He. Just. Shut. Up?!

“I don’t remember having a babysitter surrounding me.” She tries to retort with a steady voice but it wavers slightly as she reached the end. Hiwatari is starting to get on her nerves and she can’t even stand on a verbal fight with him. So great.

“You know I’m not but what I said before was right. We have to go.”

She despises his ability to go from hot to cold the next moment. She often wonders why he doesn’t want to pursue being actor. Kai has perfected the technique of raising the brow - Lyla’s sure he has spent hours in front of a mirror practicing it, otherwise, he’s not normal - and since honey drips from his lips whenever he speaks, he’d be beyond perfect for any role of bad guy.

“You’re not always right.”

Kai’s mouth stays agape briefly, staring at Lyla’s back stunned. Where did that come from?

“I didn’t say I’m always right.”

“But you definitely act like it.”

He presses his lips firmly shut. She is definitely bothered by something and that’s enough to push Kai’s ego back slightly. He remains silent before making another try and convince her it’s time to get home.

“It’s getting cold out here.”

Lyla doesn’t respond immediately. The thought of ignoring him till he gets bored and leaves is too appealing. But Kai won’t let her get away easily.

“I like the cold.” She replies stubbornly.

“No you don’t. You like spring.”

“And you don’t like summer.”

“I don’t like a lot of things.”

“But you definitely enjoy getting on people’s nerves at the wrong at time.”

Kai chuckles. He wishes he could see her face since Lyla’s cheeks tend to get covered with a soft red whenever they get into an argument - something that doesn’t happen often to his surprise.

Upon hearing him hold back his laughter, Lyla turns her head abruptly. Kai sees the tears on her cheeks and whatever comeback he has come up with dies on his throat. What can possibly has shaken her this much?

Then a thought crosses his mind.

It’s swift and he could have missed it...but he’s positive that this could be exactly it.

He pushes his hands deep into the pockets of his hoodie, his eyes looking anywhere but her as one thought brings the other. Lyla takes a moment to trace his features; a part of his neck is exposed since Hiwatari isn’t fond of scarves along with hoodies and her toes curl unwillingly. She can’t deny she doesn’t like his neck. She really does and often wonders how it’d be to taste it. Then again she’s fifteen and shouldn’t accuse Kai of having a dirty mind. Hers isn’t any better.

Her eyes travel higher, to his rosy lips and soft breaths against the cold, to his mesmerizing purple eyes and red-tinted nose and to his slate blue hair which is pushed back into his black beanie. There’s a softness about him at seeing his face this vulnerable, free from the bangs that hide it from the rest of the world.

Her heart clenches.

“Kai?” She asks hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think magic is evil?”

Kai ponders the thought for a minute. Afterwards, “No. I don’t think it’s evil at all. It depends on how you choose to use it, the purpose you have.”

More tears roll down her cheeks and realization dawns upon her; she can’t stop them from flowing. She can’t bury the pain anymore.

“That’s what I believe too but whenever I do, there’s the haunting image of Marcus and James, their unfair fate, how they deserved better and how they were always the best ones at heart from their group. They could be developed so much more, they could be everything the rest of their teammates would never be. They were kind and no one recognised that in them. People viewed them as the weakest members of the gang and all of that because of one loss at a match One fucking loss.” her sobs have made her voice lower. She doesn’t mind the tears because Kai knows. He knows her well enough. “I’m tired. I feel like breaking. I-I don’t think I’ll be able to use magic for a while after this. I don’t think -

Her eyes fly wide open when Kai’s face comes too close for her comfort to hers and the next thing she knows is his lips on hers. For a heartbeat her brain is preoccupied by the fact this is not a dream, that she’s not in her bed fantasizing how kissing Kai Hiwatari would feel like since her crush on him only got stronger the longer she got the chance to know him better and spend time with him.

She lets her eyes close and sinks in. Lyla moves her hands from her sides to Kai’s neck and intertwines her fingers there, bringing them closer. She’s surprised when she notices his hands have come around to secure her waste, making her forget everything and her heart almost explodes at the feeling of his thumb, smooth on her cold skin as he wipes away slowly her tear.

How someone so distant can be so soft?

She doesn’t have time to process the thought. He pulls away and heat rushes on her face.

Holy shit, it did happen.

Then another thought occurs. Why did he kiss her? To offer comfort? To stop her from babbling while crying her heart out?

“Why did you - “ her breath hitches on her throat and she swallows to calm her nerves. “Why did you do that?”

A small smile flickers on Kai’s lips and Lyla wishes to see that more often “Because I wanted to.” Her head shoots up from the ground to stare at him astonished.

“And because you seemed to lose your self.” he mumbles softly.

A grin lights up her face. She’s supposed to not lose her spirit, even if the world around her collapses.

“Come on. Let’s go home. The guys will be worried.”

She nods and paces quicker to reach him, thanking God for making Kai a part of her life that reminds her she’s much stronger than she thinks.

#beyblade fanfiction #kai x lyla

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lnevada · 6 years

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Our game

I don’t know about you, but I watch a lot of YouTube. Like, a lot. I have a pretty good gamer to vlogger ratio in my subscription box and each creator I watch puts out several dozen to several hundred videos a year.

But gaming channels hold a special place in my heart because I watch their videos every day of the week. I mean, every day. Even on the days when a gamer doesn’t upload, which are few and far between compared to breaks of some vloggers. I will often go back and watch my favorite past videos instead to keep from missing a day.

And I watch all sorts of games. Horror games to romance games. Building to battle. One shots can be funny while story driven games can be serious and calm often bordering on emotional.

But my favorite type of video to watch with any of my gamers is their video game series. But the series I like for each individual gamer wildly varies.

This is because, the game I like to watch a gamer play most out of any they have played on their entire channel, is what I often refer to as Our Game.

It can be a single game/stand alone episode, but more often than not it is a series of videos of a game that I will only watch with that one YouTuber.

Games tend to be trendy in the community and most usually like to see all of their favorite YouTubers individual reactions to the new hottest game on the market (usually released only days apart, if not on the same day). I like to do this as well. But Our Game is different. It’s something a little more meaningful.

Our Game can come about in multiple ways. Maybe this gamer is the first person I saw play this particular game. Maybe, in my opinion, they have the smoothest, best paced, best edited, and/or the overall best playthrough with the best choices made in the series. Maybe it was an emotionally heavy game and maybe we shared not only a moment together, but maybe the entire game was an experience for both of us which, even divided by a screen, we experienced together over the course of several hours.

Some gamers I share multiple games with. But I always have that one game, that one series where someone mentions even just the title and I immediately think of one specific gamer’s playthrough.

My games with my YouTubers:

Felix: Felix was the first Gaming channel I found. I watched very few one shot games when I first started getting a feel for him before I fell into his The Walking Dead playthrough. It was the first game series I watched on YouTube. It’s the first series of his that I watched and to this day I remember the “experience” we shared in S1. We haven’t had one during TWD sense, but I’ve gone to him with each new installment of the series and have since done my own playthrough at home. TWD is Our Game.

While it is Our Game and I remember it fondly, it doesn’t have much replay value. So, whenever I’m feeling down or need my PewDiePie fix when he’s on Hiatus, I click on his playlist of “Rage Games” and let it run. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched through it and even though it consists on mainly one offs, I consider it a honorary series.

Mark: I have a few series with Mark. The first one being FNAF which as a series has plagued his career and existence for years and continued into 2018. I know it’s an obvious answer, and not emotional in the least, but he is, as he often jokes, the King of FNAF. I wouldn’t know a new game was in the works or ever released if he didn’t play through it on his channel. And it’s always an experience when he does. His multiple attempts to complete the overly difficult games are where some of the emotions come into play. The first episode of the first game holds my favorite Markiplier quote of all time that has stuck with me to this day: “You do you and I’ll do me and we won’t do each other, probably”. In the moment, it was said as a joke, but out of context they are actually meaningful words to live by.

My second series with him is again a comedic one, but it’s true. For as many times as I’ve watched Mark’s playthrough of FNAF, I’ve watched Huniepop just as many. The first several episodes of it are still hilarious to this day.

Jack: I’ve shared a lot of emotional experiences with Jack specifically. He’s an expample of someone I share one off games with. One that always comes to mind is one of his oldest. Presentable Liberty. Anyone who’s watched Jack has probably sense it. It was our first real emotional experience and it was our first serious game. Another is The Beginner’s Guide. A little longer of a game, a real think piece. To this day, I have never seen another gamer play either of these and I never want to.

As for our shared series there are again many, but the one that I will always recommend to others is Undertale. It’s a surprisingly complex and emotional series. But my favorite aspect would be Jack’s famous voices with he created for the characters. This was such a popular game at the time of its release I actually have watched other’s playthroughs (partial or full). However, Jack’s voices for the characters are my canon voices, his playthrough is the best paced, and my favorite in terms of reactions. Undertale is Our Game.

Ken: His is a fun one and rivals in length with FANF. Our Game is Danganronpa. I’ve yet to catch up with P3 of the series. I’m waiting for a time when I happen to have several weeks in a row because the series is a long one! But it’s an interesting concept with very fun characters and I enjoy Ken’s reluctance to play, or at least read, through all of it after P1 (you just have to watch the series).

I could go on discussing games I’ve watched these or other YouTubers play, but this post is probably long enough. Am I alone in this concept of sharing a game(s) with a YouTuber or do you have some of your own? What games do you hold special or to a higher standard for other gamers because you watched your favorite play it first?

What are some of Your Games and who do you share them with? Who carries those experiences with you?

Let’s discuss below. I’d love to hear other’s thoughts and games that they love!

#youtube #gaming channel #gamers #video games #series #favorite series #jacksepticeye #markiplier #pewdiepie #cinnamontoastken #experience #emotional #our game #favorites

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shinneth · 5 years

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Gem Ascension Tropes (Steven-specific: I - P)

Primary General Post ★ Full Article ★ Primary Peri Post ★ Primary Steven Post

I Miss Mom: Per canon, but only alluded to in GA during Chapter 8 of Act III.

Innocence Lost: Already a major component of Steven’s canon character development; the GA continuity naturally ramps this up to extreme levels as the horrors of reality Steven experiences first-hand get worse and worse. Within Act I alone, he’s witnessing the death of other gems (and Diamonds) while being unable to do anything about it. Then, he’s being forced to abandon Peridot on Homeworld (at first under the impression that she’s being left to die); this nearly renders Steven jaded shell of his former self, but the remaining Crystal Gems manage to snap him out of it by the end of Act II. This experience triggered Steven’s inherited Diamond powers to start going rogue and evolve in a manner beyond his control as well. While the events of Act III bring Peridot back to him, Steven laments being unable to save White Diamond from herself, though it certainly wasn’t from his lack of trying. However, Steven is now forced to grow up in light of the state of his world after the main series: with Homeworld and the Diamond Authority gone forever, Era 3 truly starts now on a clean slate – all Homeworld gems are now refugees living on Earth, and they need guidance in order to be able to move forward and live for themselves. Steven and Peridot are the only Diamonds left in existence now, so while Steven tries his best to cling to his childlike charm, positive outlook, and pacifistic ideals in spite of everything that happened, he’s definitely become much more hardened to the aspects of life that threaten his beliefs.

Insulted Awake: How Steven is brought out of his 20-hour Angst Coma in Chapter 7 of Act II; Pearl plays a recording of Peridot insulting Steven repeatedly to startle him badly enough to wake up.

Intimate Healing: How Steven and Peridot end up having their First Kiss. In the interest of healing Peridot’s widespread injuries that Steven simply doesn’t have enough Super Spit for treating her in one session, Peridot proposes donating her own saliva to mix in with Steven’s. Should her own saliva adopt the healing factor through Steven’s, they’ll have enough to completely heal her injuries… but in order to do this, they’ll need to kiss. Thankfully, it works out.

Involuntary Shapeshifting: Ends up partially like this while he’s Blinded by Rage in Chapter 4 of Act III. In Chapter 6, White Diamond forcibly completes the transformation, forcing Steven to shift into Pink Diamond 2.0. While he can easily return to his original form, he ends up shifting into Pink 2.0 a few times before GA ends, and at least one of those times was involuntary.

It Sucks to Be the Chosen One: Per canon, though now Steven has a buddy in Peridot who’s going through the exact same issues as of GA Act III; she has it just as bad as Steven. While the story tends to focus more on Peridot’s struggles in this (mostly due to Steven’s already being portrayed heavily in canon), she isn’t suffering alone; Steven often isn’t far away or far behind if Peridot’s having a rough time with her ascended role in life. While Steven has shown to be at peace with his destiny as much as one can be in his situation, it’s apparent how overwhelming his responsibilities become in the Post-GA era as time goes by.

Journey to the Center of the Mind: Steven embarks on this during Chapter 4 of Act III into Peridot’s mind in hopes of undoing the damage done by White Diamond. He succeeds in fixing Peridot’s problem, but comes out of the journey with major mental problems of his own.

Kind Restraints: In Chapter 4 of Act III, Peridot (as Chartreuse Diamond) forces him to the floor and ties down his limbs to keep him there until she can figure out how to calm Steven down. At this point, Steven is very much Not Himself and acting more like a rabid wild animal than a person, so it’s all very justified.

Last of His Kind: Subverted, as Peridot’s ascension has since made her a Diamond, meaning she and Steven are the final two known living Diamonds in the universe. However, as far as natural, pure Diamonds go, Steven himself is most definitely the last one standing after Act III.

Living Lie Detector: While Steven can’t read minds with his enhanced powers (which he gains late in Act II), he can passively read anyone’s feelings whether they’re said or unsaid. Since most liars aren’t adept enough to purge the truth they’re trying to hide from their emotions while openly lying about it, Steven can very easily tell not only when someone’s not being honest, but also whether or not they’re bluffing.

Love Revelation Epiphany: It’s vague as to when this specifically happens, as Steven says in Chapter 5 of Act I that he’s at least thought about feeling this way for Peridot in the past. While he willingly kisses her in this moment, Steven seems to be taking it in stride more like a Puppy Love scenario. However, he doesn’t hesitate to kiss Peridot of his own volition a few chapters later (even giving her an “I Love You” that’s an intentional callback to their platonic moment in Gem Drill with a clear implication they’ve had a Relationship Upgrade). It’s arguable that Steven doesn’t officially reach this point until Chapter 8 of Act II, after he realizes beyond a shadow of a doubt the level of Peridot’s devotion for him after watching her Video Will. This causes him to act more like someone who’s just realized how deeply they love someone in return, as he tries to go to Homeworld alone because he can’t bear the thought of Peridot being put through torture, despite even him acknowledging that trying to go back for her immediately by himself is a terrible idea.

The Medic: Whenever he isn’t kidnapped or incapacitated, Steven will be there to heal any wound. He’s responsible for restoring a very battered Peridot back to full health (as well as repairing her fractured mind in Act III) and quickly healing Garnet, Pearl, and Amethyst after they sustained heavy damage as Alexandrite before getting captured again. He even heals White Diamond’s wounds and rejuvenates her as a parting gift when she’s finally defeated.

Mind Rape: An unfortunate victim of this, getting it second-hand from reading Peridot’s memories. Specifically, the scene of Peridot being Tricked to Death and ending up with a Slashed Throat (even though it’s fake and he was told as much before seeing it) constantly replays in his head the moment he first sees it. Steven can’t make it stop and he can’t block it out, which quickly induces Sanity Slippage, until he’s eventually Blinded by Rage.

Mindlink Mates: Getting there with Peridot as of My Time is Now. A simple make-out session becomes something deeper as Steven’s able to pick up on what Peridot is picturing in her mind. Most of it is stuff he’s already seen before when he last journeyed to the center of her mind. However, once Steven is deeply rooted into Peridot’s memories, a new curiosity of his is imagined… and Peridot picks up on it, knowing it didn’t come from her. Given Peridot’s very limited empath capabilities, it’s not expected the couple will be consistently adept like this, but this moment proved it was at least possible. In just a little over a year’s time, Our Tomorrow shows Steven and Peridot able to combine their individual takes on the same dream they’ve often had to create a fully-developed, clearly-defined complete version of said dream. They’re even in tune with each other well enough to create something strongly resembling a photograph from their combined dream; with this, they not only have physical proof of their great leap in progress in this trope, but have a much stronger long-term goal they can always look to for strength when times get tough.

Morality Pet: He’s everybody’s morality pet, per canon. Still, most notably Peridot’s in GA… the runner-up is probably himself, surprisingly.

Mr. Exposition: Acts as this during Chapter 8 of Act II, even Lampshaded by Amethyst.

Nice Guy: Of course he is, per canon.

Official Couple: With Peridot, as of Chapter 5 of Act III.

On Three: How Steven and Peridot prepare for their first kiss.

O.O.C. is Serious Business: After Peridot gives Lapis an Armor-Piercing Slap (and being way out of line in doing so), Steven kicks her head from behind to make a very stubborn, desperate, and delusional Peridot face reality after it becomes apparent that no words or gentle gestures can get through to her. Before this, he speaks very coldly to Peridot to shut down her protests and stop wasting what little time Pumpkin has left to live on nonsense and instead use that time to say goodbye. Despite his good intentions, Steven hates doing every bit of this and apologizes for his actions and behavior almost right away when he next speaks to Peridot.

Pacifism Backfire: A major ongoing problem that Steven is called out on more than once in the series. The main issue being that Steven’s insistence on granting mercy to an enemy actively trying to kill them is putting the lives of all the Crystal Gems at risk in doing so.

Partial Transformation: After being triggered by being forced to see Peridot’s Gory Discretion Shot on loop for a long period of time, Steven starts to physically morph; following his Plot-Relevant Age-Up, pink accents start to appear on his body, but don’t completely overtake him. This form has no name, but is basically an incomplete transitional state. Steven ends up in this form only twice before White Diamond gets her hands on him and forces him to fully awaken into his Super-Powered Alter Ego, Pink Diamond 2.0.

Percussive Prevention: Steven forces himself to resort to this for a raging, hysterical Peridot who is needlessly taking out her anger on Lapis when she should be using that time to say goodbye to Pumpkin, who’s minutes way from dying from her injuries. He already tried to settle her down with gentle words, but Peridot proved to be inconsolable. Now that she’s hurting his friends while Pumpkin has a very short time left, Steven resorts to superkicking Peridot’s head from behind, sending her falling to the ground. He forcefully drags her over to Pumpkin, admonishing Peridot for her actions and demanding her to say her goodbyes to Pumpkin while she still has the chance, even resorting to guilt-tripping by referencing how he never got to say goodbye to his mother to make sure Peridot would finally understand what she needs to do. While this finally gets Peridot to sober up, she doesn’t get more than a few words out before Pumpkin passes away… meaning Steven did this for nothing (or simply took too long to suck it up and do this to Peridot earlier). He’s very quick to apologize for his actions the next time he speaks to Peridot.

Plot-Relevant Age-Up: When he experiences Sanity Slippage (more details on that below), Steven’s body matures to match his chronological age. Since this was brought on by his primal human urges, this ends up being a permanent change.

The Pollyanna: Per canon, though after Act I, Steven stumbles a lot in maintaining this trope. He’s prone to periods of depression, but often will spontaneously come out of them without needing help and is quick to move on to other matters. His persisting sleep-inducing depression in Act II is the only time he requires outside help in the form of a combined effort from his friends. Seriously compromised after Chapter 4 of Act III, but by the end of GA, Steven still pushes through his obstacles with all the optimism and enthusiasm he can muster.

Positive Friend Influence: Per canon; this trait shines the brightest by far when Steven is with Peridot in the GA continuity. To a lesser degree, Steven continues to be one for the rest of his friends, but there are occasions where his influence is outright resisted (most notably, White Diamond). However, his persistence can be credited to how the Crystal Gems managed to survive past the main series; had Steven not given Peridot some intensive Epiphany Therapy during the climax of Act III, everyone would have died off with Homeworld.

Power Incontinence: Comes up in the advent of his Partial Transformation that was triggered from the mental anguish he suffered while repairing Peridot’s fractured mind in Chapter 4 of Act III. Steven himself was unresponsive and consumed with an unstoppable rage while a war was waged in his own mind over a certain moral dilemma. He was eventually calmed, but it briefly came back a couple of chapters later (though he was much more in control of himself this time). Thankfully, the second spell was short-lived, but Steven’s behavior for that time was very much deplorable and unlike him, that he still has a hard time living it down even in the present day.

Promoted to Love Interest: After Peridot confesses her feelings in Chapter 5 of Act I.

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fyeah-chanyeol · 7 years

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Ceci Magazine Feburary 2017 Issue: Chanyeol’s Interview

Question: You’ve mentioned that one of the best movies of 2017 that you have watched is “Hyung" in which D.O has starred in. In particular, which scenes stood out or caught your attention the most? Chanyeol: Until now, i’ve only seen the movie once. (laughs) Amongst the many scenes, one in particular stood out to me the most; it was the scene where Kyungsoo was dancing. This is a side of Kyungsoo that I’m pretty familiar with. Question: Even though you’ve learned DJ-ing from BeatBurger’s Shim Jae Won, he was apprehensive about the fact that you were able to perform it during your concerts. It must have been an accomplishment for you, after having done so for 44 consecutive concerts. Chanyeol: I’ve become closer to Jaewon hyung through our conversations while I was learning DJ-ing from him. He seems rather impressed with my persistence and perseverance with regards to music. I always show the prettier side of me when i’m engaged in music. Honestly speaking, i’m not amongst the members that dance well during our concerts. Hence it got me thinking about other forms of performances that i was able to showcase. This led me to discover about DJ-ing, which i thought was a good alternative. I encountered many setbacks throughout my tenure, but as i had expected, i was able to better understand and adapt quicker to the lessons taught during the time frame between the last EXO’Luxion concert to the present EXO’rDIUM one. Question: You’ve mentioned about your personality being one that is rather impatient. However, it seems that you do tend to dedicate time and patience to specific areas of your interest. People who are impatient tend to give up rather easily. Chanyeol: Having an impatient personality allows me to stay focused on the task on hand and time seemingly passes by quickly. For instance, i wanted to master the Japanese language as quickly as possible. Therefore it spurred me on to study diligently on a daily basis. Whenever the time permits, i find myself reading up on Japanese vocabulary. During my plane rides to Japan for our conducted tours, i would take the opportunity to read up on Japanese vocabulary books to further expand my knowledge. Question: What have you been diligently working hard on recently? Chanyeol: During the month of January, we had a window period where we were free with no schedules. I picked up snowboarding as a result. I spent my time looking up various video clips featuring people performing a variety of stunts and jumps while riding on it, which prompted me to want to do the same. I kept having to replay the video. The following day i attempted it and fell close to a hundred times. I don't usually fall as much, but for this particular stunt i was intending to learn, i ended up falling a hundreds of times. However i managed to succeed at the end. Throughout the 5 days of my practice, 3 of which i even found myself having difficulty trying to walk (laughs). Given my type of impatient personality, iI wanted to pick up the skill as quickly as possible. I poured in all my time and effort into doing so. I also tend to have a personality whereby, i would get frustrated if i wasn’t able to accomplish goals that i had initially set out for. Question: From your acting debut in the movie "Salut D'Amour" to the present drama “Missing Nine”, you’ve certainly learnt many acting skills cumulatively as a result right? Chanyeol: Of course. Especially during the filming of the drama “Missing Nine”, i’ve learnt a lot just by looking at the way my seniors act. Initially, when we had to appear as a group, i was deeply intimidated. As every single word in the script, if not executed properly, could cause devastating differences. I found myself constantly working on how to convey my feelings of exasperation on set back at home. I also began thinking about ways to help better convey my tone and voice. I consulted the director about this issue many times. Especially with the help of a senior whom i’m particularly close with, Kim Sang Ho, i’ve learnt many things. Question: The adult persona of Chanyeol must have been well adored isn’t it? Chanyeol: Well I guess so, it seems. (laughs) During our breaks, besides the usual conversation about acting, i do converse about social issues, politics etc with my seniors. I realized that i could benefit from having conversations like these as well, as it gave me more insight about the adult life. It was fortunate that i was being casted for this drama. Question: Upon reading up about the character “Lee Yeol” that you potrayed in the drama, i felt like it had a striking resemblance to your character off screen. Didn't that provide you with a better advantage? Chanyeol: I did notice that the character I potrayed in the drama bore similar resemblance to the way i behave in my daily life. However, after having to act it out, i realized that it was in fact actually pretty contrasting. Although the people around me are familiar with my own personality in real life, i worked hard in trying to potray the character of Lee Yeol well. Question: During the drama it’s been known that the 9 members had suffered from a plane crash incident. To put the film into the real life perspective, given that the conditions aren’t so severe, what would you have done during the times in which you’ve experienced exasperation and feeling exhausted? Chanyeol: During the early days of my debut, i remembered feeling extremely dreary and constantly being exhausted. However i was always there to lighten the mood for my fellow members. These days, after having familiarized ourselves around each other after so long, this practice slowly died down, we find ourselves keeping to each other more. I guess it's due to the fact that people generally get sensitive when they’re tired. I can also say the same for myself as well. I tend to feel really guilty about it before bed, so i’m really trying to keep my emotions in check. This is something i would like to work on this year. Question: Whilst filming in Jeju, what did you do during your free time? Chanyeol: There wasn't much free time in general. When it happened to rain during filming, i would spend the time bonding with my seniors as we sat around during a meal and play games together. This really allowed me to bond with my seniors. During our actual breaks, we hardly went on our separate ways. Instead, we would gather together and chat continuously on end. Those times were very much enjoyable for me and everyone else, as it was also a time for us to heal through our conversations. Question: You were the one that started the band ‘Heavy Noise’. Ideally you tend to stick to one you set of to do, but do you have times where you tend to just give up half way through the process? Chanyeol: Nope. None of that sort. In fact i was even more optimistic during my middle and high school days. I would always gather amongst my friends as we had fun joking with each other and exploring new instruments and such. I still have vivid memories about us spending time in the ensemble room and going out for spicy rice cakes thereafter. It was an enjoyable time for me. During the days where my band was active it gained much popularity and attention from others. I remembered surprising everyone with my musical instrument abilities albeit being a transferred student. (laughs) Question: As such, you must have been a tall and attractive student back then. Chanyeol: I think my golden/prime days were back when I was in 3rd grade during High School. (laughs) I was constantly fooling around with my classmates and we would always keep silent whenever a female student passed by out of basic respect. However afterwards, we would basically just resume with our antics. When lunch break approached, others would make a dash for the cafeteria, while i would just take my time strolling towards it. During soccer matches, i would also be at the sideline having fun and laughing along as well. Question: You make school hallways seem as though they are fashion runways instead. It seems like you are pretty self loving, but you do find yourself wanting to be acknowledged by others around you for your efforts as well right? Chanyeol:You're right. However having said that, apart from wanting the love and attention from others, i don’t wish to be pretentious. It feels good to be acknowledged, but i’ll prefer to set a limit to it and not go overboard. When i feel like i have made someone feel uncomfortable in any way, i would go back and think about it and reflect upon it. Question: Often times, people with good lucks have found themselves in a situation where their attributes are overshadowed by their outer appearances. You can be good at everything, but it’ll all be overshadowed by your looks isn’t it? Chanyeol: Frankly speaking, it isn’t the outer appearance that distracts the public from my talents. But rather, it encourages people to pay closer attention to my outer appearance as opposed to my talents. It gives me the motivation to perform at my personal best at all times, to basically constantly showcase what my capabilities are. If i’m at the 100th level right now, it makes me aim for 10000. Similar to music, i always find myself aspiring for greater heights in life. Although i constantly receive praises from the people around me, i still find myself doubting my abilities at times and even losing my confidence as a result. Hence whenever i have my free time, i work hard at the practice studio to try and further improve myself. Question: Would there ever be a day whereby, after looking at yourself in the mirror, you think “I’ve accomplished more musically, as compared to working on my outer appearance”? Chanyeol: No doubt, i have thoughts like that as well. I’ve always been asking my fellow seniors in the industries about what they think about me. And they’ve always replied that i show perseverance and tenacity in my musical composition. Of course it feels good to receive great compliments like this, but it also spurs me on to further improve on my skills for the better as i feel like i’m still lacking in many aspects as an individual. Eventually, it’s the enthusiasm that i have to learn more about music that’s behind it all. Question: You’ve previously mentioned that “One’s imagination surpasses the abundance of all imaginations”. I find that rather quirky and adorable. Has anything changed ever since? Chanyeol: Yes, definitely! I’m all about exceeding my own imagination. Before i hit the hay every night, i usually picture a scene in my head during filming. Not long ago, i pictured myself earning a quadrillion bucks. Question: If that (earning a quadrillion) was true, what would you do with all that fortune? Chanyeol: I would build a 20-storey high building. The first 3 levels would be converted into a practice space. This year as part of my resolutions, i decided to work on my dancing. During the past year, i’ve observed myself through the monitors and realized that i had loads to work on with regards to my dancing abilities. Besides attending more dance lessons, i would commit myself towards my fitness as well. Those facilities would be found at the upper levels. Then comes a study area where i would learn what’s basically necessary, and my studio, where i receive coaching on my lyrical compositions as well. It’s basically all about working towards self-enhancement and establishing a greater me. Question: It’s been a good 5 years since your debut with EXO. Are you aspirations currently what you had hoped for prior to your debut? Chanyeol: I feel like i’m drawing closer to my childhood dream of being a composer, a producer. Although i thoroughly enjoy my time working as a singer, i do hope to expand my outlook towards lyrical compositions as well as producing music. Given my spare time apart from my daily commitments, i hope to gain more insights with regards to music. Although i do feel satisfied being an EXO member, i’m always greedy for more. Albeit the old saying that everyone has a point where they reach their personal limits, i feel that although this may be true to a certain extent or so, we all still have a long way to go. Once you reached a milestone, it would only serve to drive you further into reaching your fullest potential. Question: In conclusion, do you have anything that you would like to say for Ceci? Chanyeol: Let’s Love! ( laughs) Translation by Soojung @ fyeah-chanyeol (Please take out with full credits)

#chanyeol #exo k #exo #text: interview #trans #ceci feb 2017

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its-love-u-asshole · 7 years

Text

Adjusting the Scope [fic]

Pairing: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki

Rating: T (for very minor violence)

Summary: He knew that voice anywhere. He craved it in fact, and the longing for it tended to be a most deadly distractor at various points of the day. Never had he imagined to actually hear it on a mission. Somehow, even if he had…it probably wouldn’t have involved him crouched under a crate waiting to kill the owner of said voice. [Assassins AU]

Ao3 Version

Helloooo! *_* So, this fic was originally written for the 2016 Sarumi Anthology from July, but we weren't allowed to post it until now! I hope everyone who didn't get to read it enjoys it, thank you so much for reading! This is obviously my older writing as well so, pls forgive me for that lmaooo. Comments are always appreciated ^^

He’d already zeroed the scope.

Honestly, guns were so annoying, especially sniper rifles. The elevation knob had to be accordingly adjusted to allow for some inaccuracies without totally missing the target. Then of course there was actually positioning the damn thing, which always changed based on the particular rifle he was using.

Saruhiko hated guns. They were loud, sometimes heavy, and having to adjust to each and every one’s different specs whenever he needed one for a job was time consuming and irritating. His boss usually kept his preferences in mind, giving Saruhiko more ‘close range’ jobs or targets that lived alone, so he could take them out more efficiently with his knives. Resorting to guns was truly a last option for Saruhiko, but the client had been specific; make it a quick job, no direct contact. And with many of his coworkers out on other assignments or suffering from injuries, Saruhiko had been the only one available.

Not that Saruhiko wasn’t skilled with whatever weapon he was given, but guns were so obnoxiously violent and loud they gave him a headache, and the traditional stealth and grace of a knife was preferable to him.

Not for everyone unfortunately…

He smiled fondly, despite the grimness of the situation. He was positioned up on a tall building, the highest he could find that was not surrounded by apartment buildings or other structures with windows. Witnesses were…difficult to deal with.

The rooftop was dingy and littered with trash, a bit out of character for the wealthy neighborhood he was in. Oh well, it made it less likely that someone would find him. Even still, he’d bolted the rooftop door shut.

There was a light breeze, and Saruhiko clicked his tongue, factoring the change into the rifle’s positioning. He had it on a stand, but even that was proving to be troublesome, so he lifted it, supporting it fully in his own slender arms with a mild grunt. He held it steady, grace and still in his posture as he waited.

Below him, an outdoor gala was being held on a lower roof, filled with city officials and prominent families. They were all scattered throughout the bright green lawn at the top of the building, some hanging around the buffet table, others enjoying the open bar. It was the stereotypical high class get together, people conversing and chirping about happily, tight smiles refusing to leaves the clean, retouched faces.

Luckily, the target was sitting, occasionally entertaining those who came by to speak to him. That was what Saruhiko was waiting for. Killing those who weren’t targets, especially innocents, was largely frowned upon in his organization. In fact, Scepter 4 usually only dealt with mob bosses or hardcore criminals, almost vigilante in its actions. On the rare occasions in which the target was a prominent person, intensive research would be done by the team to decide if the person’s elicit behaviors were truly worth punishing so harshly.

Ah, but yes, it’d been decided. Without him too, as a matter of fact, making the reality of his current position even more annoying. Saruhiko had been on a date when the verdict had been made, yet he’d still been stuck with the job.

Whatever. Point was, the official in question was a prominent businessman known for abusing his workers, letting them go without proper compensation, working them excessive hours, and even causing several deaths due to hazardous working conditions they were forced to undertake. It was all very bleak to Saruhiko, and while cruel, it was not uncommon for higher ups to employ such underhanded methods to save a few bucks.

Still, once his boss Munakata had caught wind of the story, the older man’s sensitivities and sense of justice were activated, and that was that.

The last few people crowded around the businessman were starting to drift away, and Saruhiko inhaled sharply. This was it.

He removed the safety of the rifle, the soft clinking of it now suddenly audible from the brief pause in the wind. Perfect.

He brought the rifle up, swallowing once as he squinted, every calibration running through his head so as to avoid any mishaps. The man was laughing in his crosshairs. Saruhiko had done this plenty of times, but Munakata always said there was no use in getting arrogant. Still, the impending sense of victory was coursing through him. Saruhiko took in another breath, then held it…1…2…

His finger ghosted over the trigger, and—

A shot rang out, and after the usual moment of suspended silence, the convention below seemed to erupt in chaos as eccentric gala suits and gown were splattered with crimson. It was over that quick, yet it looked as if the horror show was only beginning as people trampled each other, trying to get to the rooftop stairs to flee, as if they too were in danger. Saruhiko grunted from the way the music abruptly stopped, the strings of instruments butchering notes as their musicians dropped them to take cover. Men fled every which way, women searched for loved ones in the pandemonium. All the while, the victim’s blood continued to pour, staining the fake, groomed grass below and mixing with the spilled alcohol of the night.

So, the usual, and no less than what Saruhiko would have expected on any normal event such as this. The only issue was, the shot hadn’t come from him.

The world slowed down as all the senses in his body went to high alert, and the screams below him were instantly drowned out in his mind, his whole being now waiting for any sign of another presence. Saruhiko dove for the nearest statue, pure instinct driving him as he found cover and reached for his knives. He’d made sure to masterfully take apart his snipper rifle in a matter of seconds, deft hands pulling the weapon apart and kicking the pieces in different directions before he had fled from his earlier position. At least whoever was with him wouldn’t be able to use it against him, assuming the attacker didn’t have a more appropriate and fully functioning close range weapon already. Like hell would Saruhiko die from his own gun, no matter how improbable it was. He grabbed the backpack he’d brought with him too as he ducked away, knowing some stuff in there would help if he really got into a fight.

He replayed the events in his head, slowing them down so he could see all the gruesome details. They didn’t bother him anymore. The shot had been a success, the target was neutralized. The blood had flown quite quickly, almost excessively, telling Saruhiko that the gunmen hadn’t hit in the ‘correct’ place. Not that it mattered, dead was dead, but to Saruhiko, it meant the gunmen was a bit sloppier, if not inexperienced with the weapon.

There were sirens in the distance now, but even then, Saruhiko expected them to be just a few minutes behind due to the rush hour traffic. Just enough time for him to leave, had this predicament not stupidly unfolded.

Saruhiko allowed himself a frustrated sigh, what were the odds someone else would take the liberty of killing this guy? On the same day? He felt the strong urge to slap himself, maybe it would all be a dream, an annoyingly vivid dream, and he’d wake up in the sheets with—

The roof’s door was shot open.

Saruhiko tensed, silently diving from the statue to flatten himself against the nearest wall, baring a few knives from his harness in preparation as he slunk down behind some abandoned crates. He’d already mapped out a route in his head if the other assassin had a gun, which was now an affirmative. Saruhiko would use the statues as leverage to hop onto the roof of the staircase, it would be harder to shoot him up there, but easy for Saruhiko to hear where the assassin was, and time an effective blow. He just had to figure out where the other was at the moment…

There’d been no other sound from the doorway, meaning the assassin had most likely paused to survey his surroundings. Rookie move for someone who had made such a difficult shot, but Saruhiko figured hey, someone could do whatever they wanted as long as they were prepared.

This person was either too arrogant or too carefree.

Saruhiko heard the scuff of a shoe, and yeah, the other had definitely rounded the corner, heading in Saruhiko’s direction. Damn.

Despite the commotion of a few arriving police cars and screaming below, Saruhiko felt like his world had gone silent, only aware of his own existence and this person’s. Assassins normally wouldn’t clash, but there were always rogues, those not part of organizations, and some had no qualms about killing. Barbarians. They’d be better off in prisons, he remembers Seri, his partner, telling him once, jaw tense and eyes clouded.

He’d never encountered one before, and today was a lousy day to start. He had to make it to dinner in three hours too…

The shadow cast nearby showed the assassin shouldering a gun, a sniper rifle probably, a bit difficult to maneuver at close range but better than nothing.

Well, if you were fighting anyone other than me that is.

Saruhiko smirked, getting ready to leap forward and pierce the other’s open chest, when he heard an annoyingly familiar voice cuss as the assassin tripped over some debris.

You’re not serious…

Saruhiko froze, seconds away from unleashing a barrage of sharpened steel. A multitude of possibilities went through his head. He’d been hearing things maybe, or perhaps it was one of those more technologically advanced organizations, what with the voice manipulators. Saruhiko kept his private life pretty under wraps, but that didn’t mean there was zero chance someone could’ve found out about…peculiar weaknesses.

Right, he could go on with his attack…this was nothing but—

“Fuckin’ shit!”

Yeah, no. He knew that voice anywhere. He craved it in fact, and the longing for it tended to be a most deadly distractor at various points of the day. Never had he imagined to actually hear it on a mission. Somehow, even if he had…it probably wouldn’t have involved him crouched under a crate waiting to kill the owner of said voice.

Saruhiko huffed, loudly too, because it truly didn’t matter anymore. He heard the other sputter, and the telltale sound of a weapon falling onto the floor accidentally, soon accompanied by obvious fumbling as the assassin tried to pick it back up.

Oh Misaki…

Saruhiko hid his knives away, a fond smile finding a way onto his face despite the annoying situation.

“O-oi! I know you’re there! Come out before I blow you away!”

Tempting, if he was gonna phrase it like that…

Saruhiko clicked his tongue before he stood up, mockingly putting his hands up as if in surrender, expression flat. “You really talk too much, I could’ve killed you any number of times during all your fumbling.”

There was a three second beat of silence, during which various emotions swept through Misaki’s eyes. The first was the obvious shock and suspicion, Misaki’s brain processing what he was seeing, trying to reach the conclusion that ah yes, it’s Saruhiko. The second, and one that had Saruhiko’s breath catching, was the usual sparkle which instinctively came whenever Misaki saw Saruhiko, a loving, pleasantly surprised glow in those amber pools which, in any other situation, would propel Saruhiko forward into those waiting arms. The third, a look Saruhiko had become oh so familiar with on the handsome face, was anger.

“W-what the hell did you say?!” Misaki glared fiercely, but the effect of the look was ruined by the sniper rifle on the redhead’s shoulder falling again. “Goddamnit!”

Saruhiko let his hands fall, shaking his head as Misaki moved to heft the weapon over his shoulder.

“Wow, I can tell you really know how to use that,” Saruhiko quipped, delight coursing through him when Misaki’s eyes fixed on him again, a shiver running up the taller’s body from the giddiness. It wasn’t his fault, he’d been busy. Saruhiko hadn’t been able to see Misaki in over a week thanks to background checks and other work involving this job. Having those eyes on him…he couldn’t stand it.

“S-shut up! I was the only person available okay? I don’t usually use these pieces of crap,” Misaki mumbled, light flush spreading over his face, most likely becoming aware of the starved look in Saruhiko’s eyes.

It was true though, despite his interest in fighting games and action movies, Misaki wasn’t a big fan of guns either, and used them even less than Saruhiko. Not to say he couldn’t use them, but, well…

Misaki would rather beat something up, preferably with a bat or a stick. In fact, Saruhiko wouldn’t be surprised if Misaki had a baton or other blunt weapon with him in his own backpack.

Whatever, Saruhiko could care less right then.

He crossed the measly twenty feet distance between them, and he saw Misaki’s shoulders relax, body fully ready and trusting to accept Saruhiko’s touch. The realization was gratifying.

Saruhiko brought his hands up to caress Misaki’s face, resisting the urge to go straight in for a kiss. They were alone, but Misaki had the power to intoxicate him to the point where he didn’t think clearly, and doing anything questionable on a rooftop while chaos wracked the streets below…not a good idea.

Instead, Saruhiko buried his face in Misaki’s neck, breathing in deeply. Misaki smelled clean, like he’d actually afforded himself some time to take a shower before the mission, unlike Saruhiko. He must’ve been staying at a hotel though, because the scent of the body wash was different from the one they shared at home, more plain and cheap but still mixing nicely with Misaki’s own, enticing aroma.

Misaki’s hands came up fast, circling around Saruhiko’s waist tightly as if trying to clutch him as close as possible, nudging his face into the taller’s chest while Saruhiko began peppering innocent kisses along Misaki’s neck. It was kind of amusing, what with Saruhiko trying to bend down and access more skin while Misaki made it more difficult for him by pressing closer, trying to feel along Saruhiko’s entire body with the haphazard embrace.

Chuckling, Saruhiko applied more force with his hands, which were still cradling Misaki’s head, effectively pulling him away enough so their eyes could meet. Misaki’s gaze held a love drunk quality, and Saruhiko couldn’t help but steal a chaste kiss before re-establishing the distance, holding back Misaki from chasing after him.

Misaki looked displeased, but chose to lean into Saruhiko’s hand instead, gripping it with his own as he buried his face into it. “Hey asshole,” the redhead whispered, shooting a lazy grin up at his boyfriend. “What are you doing here?”

“Hm, not happy to see me?” The teasing note in Saruhiko’s tone was enough to make Misaki huff irritably, despite the still apparent flush on his face.

“I’m getting there,” Misaki shot back, pulling Saruhiko’s hands away reluctantly. “Seriously though idiot! Scepter 4 decided it wasn’t taking this job! You guys gave it to Homra!”

Saruhiko clicked his tongue, still refusing to completely relinquish Misaki, one of his hands reaching out to clutch the edge of the other’s sweatshirt. Honestly, not the best attire for these kinds of things…

“No, we said we were taking the job after all. I sent the report to you and everything,” Saruhiko drawled, running a still tense hand through his hair. “Blame whoever goes through your guys’ paperwork.”

Misaki’s choked sputtering was the only thing to break the answering silence. Saruhiko quirked an eyebrow, torn between being thoroughly unimpressed and amused.

“It’s you. You were supposed to go through the paperwork, weren’t you?”

“…No.”

Saruhiko pinched the bridge of his nose, but a fond smile still found its way onto his face. “Misaki…how disorganized is Homra that you’re doing the reports?”

“D-Dewa was sick okay?! Shut up,” Misaki muttered, kicking at the ground like a disgruntled kid.

Ah, so that’s why.

Maybe Homra was shorthanded too. After all, Misaki rarely did missions like this anyways, more accustomed to ground attacks and interrogations. He didn’t exactly get the chance to ask though, because the telltale sound of a news helicopter drowned out his question. It was at that moment Saruhiko decided idle time was over, and he felt Misaki tense against him as well, instincts kicking in at the same time as the taller’s.

They both dove for the crates, already exchanging a look between each other and the roof’s door, weighing the risks of fleeing through such a direct route.

“No choice,” Saruhiko said, voice all authority now. “The other buildings are too far to swing to.”

“Maybe for you—”

“Misaki.” Honestly, Saruhiko thought, now isn’t the time to be reckless. They’d already stayed around the crime scene too long.

Misaki groaned in frustration, simultaneously taking apart his own weapon for easier carry. Saruhiko looked at the scattered bits of his own, wondering if they were worth picking up. There would be no fingerprints, no purchase records to trace, but the weapon was expensive and Fuse would surely be on him if he left behind another weapon.

Misaki made the decision for him though, racing along the wall until he’d successfully made it down the stairs, out of site.

Guess getting the rifle is a no then.

Saruhiko followed, taking advantage of the shadows afforded to him by the large statues and crates on the roof, masterfully gliding to the broken door and disappearing down the stairs just as the helicopter above turned towards the rooftop.

Misaki was waiting for him, foot tapping with anxiety and urgency as he opened a window. Saruhiko glared, jogging forward to peer out of the building.

“Misaki, I told you it’s too—”

Ah, this window faces the alleyway, which means…

“Bastard! I know that! But we can scale down!” Misaki was already pulling out his grappling gun, hitting one of the three buttons so the rope would retract completely. He hooked the spiked edge onto the sill, strong hands gripping the rope as he cautiously stepped outside the window. Saruhiko’s stomach churned against his will, the molded wood the hook was hanging on wasn’t exactly comforting in nature. They didn’t have a choice though, and Saruhiko shot his lover a nod, not bothering to tell him to be careful. From the hesitation in Misaki’s face, it appeared he already knew.

“W-well are you coming?” Misaki asked, hanging out the window and ready to start his descent.

“I have my own,” Saruhiko replied, pulling out a more compact version of Misaki’s gun out of his pack. “It’s the newer model too, better than your outdated crap.”

“Fuck yo—”

“Hurry up!”

Misaki glared, but didn’t protest, instead quickly dropping down the few stories he needed to until he was one the floor. He retracted the roping again, then beckoned for Saruhiko to hurry up.

Giving one dissatisfied look to his own grappling gun, Saruhiko followed, quickly landing below beside Misaki with a bit more grace than the redhead had. As he was putting the gun away and checking his surroundings, he gave one last annoyed look at the item. Honestly, he thought having the things would be useless, they seemed so childish, like something out of a spy movie. He’d be getting a lot of shit for this from Enomoto later…

“Saruhiko c’mon!” Misaki’s voice snapped him out of his reverie, and the taller trotted after him, down the alleyway and onto a less busy street. In theory, they didn’t look suspicious. Just some civilians, maybe late college students due to their backpacks, but otherwise they blended in fine. However, Saruhiko knew it was never good to hang around the murder scene, since Police were quick to pick any suspects that looked even remotely suspicious….and even some that didn’t.

He didn’t like being out in the open anyhow, especially while holding a pack stuffed with illegal items. At least he only carried what was necessary, he didn’t even want to think about what Misaki had in his…

“We should go to the library,” Saruhiko said casually. Misaki looked at him, perplexed momentarily until his eyes brightened.

“O-oh right!”

The library was usually code for an old, abandoned building or hideaway present in every city. Any major city at least, and each hideout was selected by the leaders of Homra and Scepter 4 in the event of emergency situations, or in the case any of the assassins needed a place to plan things out. Saruhiko used them often whenever he couldn’t reserve a hotel, usually for more undercover missions. Every few years, the location of ‘the library’ would change, just to make sure no one would start to suspect.

In this city, ‘the library’ was a large, crumbling hotel from decades before. The restoration of it had been discontinued, so it looked as if it was being renovated, what with the caution tape and old construction tools still littered around. Disgusting. It was his least favorite out of all the bunkers.

At that moment it was a relief though, and he and Misaki went in through a secret hatch, one slightly below ground level, and made their way up to a room on the second story. Saruhiko estimated a thirty minute wait time at least…

Saruhiko and Misaki walked down the halls side by side, monitoring each other’s blind spots in the case someone had infiltrated the place. There was no one though, but Saruhiko never fully let his guard down until he was sealed off in a room.

Entering the fifth room down, knife drawn, Saruhiko wretched from the stuffy, mildew like smell that invaded his nose full force. He couldn’t help but cough, the room was ancient, damp and unventilated.

He put his knife away, no way had anyone been in there recently. Misaki didn’t seem to mind the smell much at the moment, and as Saruhiko tried to remember what clean air felt like, the redhead walked towards the messy twin bed with purpose.

Misaki collapsed, exhausted from the episode of stress, plopping onto the bed with a relieved sigh. He wasn’t used to fleeing, and the city wasn’t familiar to him. The shorter was sitting up, and it was clear to Saruhiko the redhead was clearly trying not to lay back and submit to his tiredness.

Actually, Misaki did have noticeable bags under his eyes, Saruhiko hadn’t noticed them before. They weren’t as prominent as his own, but the evidence of Misaki’s weariness had Saruhiko’s hands twitching, desperate to reach out and offer some sort of comfort.

They were together now, just the two of them, something Saruhiko had been waiting a week for. It felt unreal, like a dream almost. But no, the musty quality of the room and the dirtiness of the structure as a whole managed to convince him of his place in reality.

Still, Misaki was there, and he couldn’t really ask for much more.

Saruhiko walked forward until he was directly in front of his boyfriend, and the redhead quirked an eyebrow. Saruhiko bent down, his body seated firmly between the other’s legs. Misaki noticeably tensed, hands coming up to clutch Saruhiko’s shoulders, either out of habit or anxiety. Maybe both.

“Wh-wh-what are you doi—”

“Don’t worry,” Saruhiko cut him off with a warmhearted tone, voice small, but holding enough power to completely captivate Misaki and silence any protests. He smiled, blue eyes shining affectionately, giving Misaki a look usually reserved for their own home. They were alone though, so it was fine. “It’s not what you think.”

He could see Misaki was still skeptical, but the vice grip on his shoulders slowly lessened, until it was gone. Misaki leaned back onto the bed, bracing his palms behind himself.

Good.

Saruhiko kissed Misaki’s knee, keeping his eyes looking upwards at his boyfriend. The sunlight shining through the bleak, torn curtains illuminated the other almost comically, like a stereotypical scene from a movie where the love interest was framed almost heavenly. Saruhiko nearly laughed at his own thoughts. Besides, Misaki didn’t exactly need the sun to look so incredible.

Ugh. What had happened to him?

Years ago, when they’d first met, it had taken Misaki’s everything to even get Saruhiko to open up as a friend, and admitting any feeling was a whole different endeavor entirely. Expressing those feelings openly…well, it had been a miracle. Saruhiko had grown, but even still, he was suspicious of everything. He had his close group of trustees, and Misaki. He couldn’t feel himself regretting any of it either.

“Misaki.”

“Huh?” Misaki’s eyes were half lidded, probably from both exhaustion and the calm atmosphere. Saruhiko shook his head. He’d just wanted to say it. Misaki grinned at him, the usual, loving soft grin Saruhiko often woke up to. He almost felt annoyed, since it would be another night at least before he could do such, but there was no use focusing on it now.

Saruhiko lifted up Misaki’s sweatshirt over the redhead’s abdomen, smiling again when he heard Misaki’s breath hitch a little. Saruhiko brushed a hand over the plane of soft skin in front of him, and Misaki’s knees jerked slightly. Ticklish, as usual.

Misaki’s abdomen was toned and muscled like the rest of him, but he of course still had his soft spots, places that tickled, places that were pinch-able and which allowed Saruhiko to nuzzle and bury his face in. Saruhiko knew every part of Misaki’s body, including where every scar and injury was located. Misaki had once tried to hide fresh wounds from him, but it was useless. If it hadn’t always been there, Saruhiko would notice.

There was a particularly nasty one on Misaki’s hipbone, barely healed from the last mission Misaki had performed weeks before. Saruhiko’s face scrunched up, trying not to let anger wash over him. This was the business they were in, worrying about each other constantly used to be an issue, and deep down, it still was. Misaki always scolded him though, saying to focus and make sure to make it home, and for three years, the advice had been enough for Saruhiko.

He kissed the scar, hot breath ghosting over it. Misaki tensed because, yeah, he’d found it.

Rather than let Misaki sputter useless excuses and let him go on about how he was fine, Saruhiko moved away from the scar, smoothing his thumb over the scar in a silent ‘I understand.’

Misaki’s face still was flooded with concern, but the redhead only sighed, bringing a hand up to thread his fingers through his boyfriend’s tangled hair, trying to flatten it out. Saruhiko rarely admitted it, but he loved this treatment. He often fell asleep in Misaki’s lap, the redhead running a hand through Saruhiko’s hair and soothing him into a sea of calm. It was especially helpful after stressful or exceedingly dangerous incidents, which, to Saruhiko’s dismay, made sleep hard. In fact, if this dingy building had been their home, he probably would’ve been half out already.

He wouldn’t pass out here though, not when he finally had a moment alone with Misaki. Saruhiko began to kiss all along Misaki’s stomach, purposefully making smacking sounds to emphasize each one. Misaki’s face was flushed, and he sighed happily, still petting Saruhiko’s hair. The redhead laughed every now and then too, the result of Saruhiko brushing over one of his more ticklish spots.

Saruhiko smirked as he continued to lazily kiss Misaki’s body, aware his actions were stupid and overly corny, but it was the most he could do in this situation.

“Saru, c-c’mon,” Misaki laughed quietly, trying to pull Saruhiko up onto the bed, probably longing for a real kiss. Saruhiko only nuzzled his face against Misaki, which caused Misaki to try pushing him more. “I-idiot stop! T-that—! Just get up here!” Misaki protested further, at this point lightly banging his fist against his boyfriend’s shoulder. The threats weren’t terribly effective though, considering they were broken up with the occasional snort. It was a noise Misaki rarely made, so the taller was reluctant to stop, but…

Misaki was trying to move his head now, fighting for the kiss he was being denied. Saruhiko would be all too happy to indulge, but looking at the bed had him clicking his tongue in annoyance. Misaki hummed in confusion before he looked too, becoming equally aggravated.

There was too much debris on the bed, cracked plaster and broken ceiling tiles littering what was once soft fabric, but the floor was mostly clear despite some sawdust. Never deterred for long, Misaki slid down, back against the edge of the bed, and Saruhiko leaned into his waiting arms automatically as soon as his body touched the ground.

Expecting a kiss, Saruhiko leaned in as much as he could…

He was met with a punch to the shoulder.

“Asshole! You know I’m t-t-ti—”

“The word you’re looking for,” Saruhiko managed to interrupt with a strained voice, hand clutching his sore spot. “Is tick—”

“Fuck you!” Misaki scowled, looking towards the floor. “That’s not cool…”

Saruhiko was in Misaki’s face before he even uttered the last word, eyes half lidded and shining in the dimly lit room. Saruhiko heard Misaki inhale loudly, and the redhead’s arms came up instinctively to grab Saruhiko’s arms.

“What’s cool then, hm Misaki?” Saruhiko’s voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard Misaki sigh, a positive response.

Misaki didn’t respond with words, instead finally connecting their lips in a soft kiss. Saruhiko responded with enthusiasm, but still kept the kiss gentle. Their foreheads bumped together as Saruhiko sucked on Misaki’s bottom lip, and the taller grunted, only slightly annoyed from his clumsiness. The kiss was familiar, velvety and communicating every bottled up emotion from the past week. I missed you. I love you.

Small, wet sounds were coming from their lips now, and, aware that his breathing was becoming a bit uneven, Saruhiko reluctantly pulled away for a split second. The pause didn’t last long, Misaki was chasing him again soon after, connecting their mouths again. The redhead slid his hands from Saruhiko’s arms to wrap around the taller’s waist. Saruhiko inched forward with the gesture, sighing into the kiss as he wrapped his own arms over Misaki’s shoulders.

The feeling of being entwined like this…he’d never get sick of it despite any doubts that would occasionally drift through his head. Old habits died hard, but he’d come to trust Misaki.

The redhead’s lips were a bit dry, and they moved roughly against Saruhiko’s, sometimes sticking together when the angle changed. It didn’t matter, if anything it was kind of amusing, and it made Saruhiko flick out his tongue to wet those lips he loved so much.

Misaki pushed him away slightly, stunned by the action. The redhead bit his lip, no doubt trying to calm the tickling sensation before he shot a half-hearted glare at his boyfriend.

Heh.

Saruhiko was about to respond teasingly, but the look in Misaki’s eyes brought any quip he may have had to a screeching halt. Those amber pools were clouded with…love? Yes, he recognized that much. But, there was also evident longing, an ache of sorts which was being so openly communicated Saruhiko nearly choked.

Even worse, the taller speculated his eyes were saying the same thing back. He felt it too, those overwhelming senses of intense yearning.

I…

Not knowing what else to do, and knowing he couldn’t exactly say what he felt even after so many years, Saruhiko dropped his head into the crook of Misaki’s neck, kissing the skin there once before slumping forward, the tension in his body flooding out. He was tired, and Misaki’s warmth reminded him way too much of sleeping next to the smaller body.

Misaki’s hand came up to run a hand in Saruhiko’s hair again, and Saruhiko swallowed, trying to formulate the correct sentiment but only coming up with air, if that.

“I missed you too,” Misaki muttered above him, effectively cutting off all his efforts.

How did you know? You used to be terrible at noticing.

Saruhiko felt lighter despite the heaviness of the fog of fatigue over him, and he smiled into Misaki’s neck. He clutched the redhead tighter, and they laid there, at peace despite the sounds of traffic outside and the questionable noises coming from the building’s old walls. Every now and then, Misaki would lift Saruhiko’s heavy head, checking to make sure he was still awake, and upon finding out, kissing him sweetly before allowing his boyfriend to slump back down.

The comfy atmosphere practically invited sleep, but Saruhiko did his best to resist, preferring to stay aware of Misaki’s presence for as long as possible. He’d be home in a couple of days but…he could never get enough of Misaki, it was as if he was addicted, but he saw no drawbacks to this drug. He breathed in the redhead’s scent once more, mouthing the skin of Misaki’s neck.

Saruhiko did his best not to groan in frustration when he felt his pda go off in one of his pockets. Misaki must’ve felt the vibration too, because the redhead tensed against him.

Right, I was supposed to check in with Seri…

She worried otherwise.

He moved to pull away, shaking off the waves of exhaustion he’d allowed himself to drown in. Misaki’s fingers tightened in the fabric of his t-shirt. It hadn’t been intentional it seemed, since the redhead gasped shortly after and released him. Saruhiko had to seriously refrain from just nestling himself back into those arms.

Misaki didn’t look angry, but Saruhiko could guess from the strain in his face that he was upset. Misaki was honestly such an open book, and in any other situation, the taller would scold the redhead for giving away his feelings so easily. It was dangerous in their line of work, but they were alone, so he guessed it was alright for now. Misaki glared at the floor, a hand brushing against Saruhiko’s knee, a silent reflection of the fact Misaki didn’t want the moment to end. The taller sighed, me neither. Saruhiko had never been good at offering comfort, but…

“The faster I write up the final report on this mission, I’ll come home,” Saruhiko explained, addressing Misaki’s unspoken disappointment in the most neutral way he could. Misaki hated feeling weak after all, though nowadays he allowed the feelings to come out in front of those close to him. Still, no use unnecessarily upsetting him.

“Y-yeah you’d better,” Misaki breathed out, looking Saruhiko over with scrutiny. “You seriously need a shower…and sleep.”

How annoying.

“Whatever, those things weren’t important these past few days,” Saruhiko grumbled, finally standing up from their position on the floor. He’d honestly been too busy, and Misaki should’ve known the drill, given they’d both been on much longer missions.

“Tell that to your skin, it’s all rough and grimy,” Misaki replied with a light smirk. The smirk only grew when Saruhiko glared in response, the bags under his eyes adding to his menacing aura.

“You weren’t complaining just now,” Saruhiko mumbled with a childish kick to the molding floor.

“Yeah but, I haven’t seen you in a while,” Misaki said, smirk still in place. “Not even your shit hygiene was gonna stop me.”

Oh shut up.

The air around them, though dusty, was drenched in comfort. Saruhiko nearly stepped towards Misaki when the redhead got up from the floor, but the sound of more police cars driving by down below was enough to keep himself grounded in reality. Misaki smiled at him sadly, but gestured towards the window adjacent to them anyways.

“Go on, get out,” Misaki said, voice soft. They shared one more hungry look, and the burn that came with it was enough to wake up Saruhiko completely, and he broke away.

As he leaned halfway out the window, already mapping out the quickest way to the roof without causing detection, he turned his head a bit, giving Misaki one last, determined grin.

“See you soon.”

#sarumi #k project #sarumi anthology 2016 #adri writing

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harrisonkitteridge-blog · 7 years

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The Lying Detective: I’m Actively Hate-watching Now

SPOILERS FOLLOW

I didn’t like the first episode of the new season of Sherlock, but I sincerely hoped having the risible nonsense of the Mary Watson/AGRA storyline tied up would free things up a bit. I think the Culverton Smith case might have delivered, but they went all in on the “I’m so beset by grief I’m hallucinating my dead spouse” gambit. Really? In what we keep being told is “clever” television? Grief is about absence, about a space that can’t be filled, about feeling trapped and asphyxiated by it. But we were never actually shown Mary and John’s relationship, so all the emotional heavy lifting is being done retroactively, and it’s heavy-handed, saccharine, out-of-character claptrap. John being with Rosie, struggling to parent alone would have had me in floods, but Moftiss always chooses exposition when there isn’t a gun being pulled or a joke being cracked. There is something about genuine, non-sensational emotion that seems to make them uncomfortable; it always has to be book-ended by effacing humour. As much as I dislike the “I see dead people” shortcut to exploring grief, I understand that it probably worked for most of the viewing audience, but Moftiss could have at least allowed some of those moments sink in. They just had to cut off the opening scene in the therapist’s office with police sirens and helicopters in service to a gag about Sherlock’s penchant for grand entrances.

Twists>Action>Jokes>>>>>>>>Characters.

The “Culverton Smith is a serial killer case” was serviceable (in spite of the horrible pun they worked in), and I liked Toby Jones’s performance, but they oversold him as a villain, and it didn’t really live up to the hype. There was too much extemporizing – all that soliloquizing in the boardroom had me staring off into space after a while. Giving Toby Jones all the scenery in Greater London to chew isn’t the same as making his character “evil”. There being no victims was a huge omission, in my opinion. You have to see what they’ve done, whom they’ve hurt or none of it really matters. Them erasing all of Smith’s victims sits really poorly with me, and it goes back to the heart of my problem with the direction of the show – the people don’t matter. Not really. Nevertheless, the story held my interest, and (before the twist at the end) I actually quite liked Sherlock’s interaction with Culverton’s “daughter” (even though it was a bit drawn out).

The middle episode of each season tends to be the weakest, and The Lying Detective was definitely one of the better offerings, and I loved Mrs. Hudson deducing Sherlock, her recognising that he’s not a “cold reasoning machine”. So why am I actively hate-watching?

That third act…

Gurl…

Where to begin?

“I killed his wife.”

No you didn’t, Sherlock. Stop making everything about you. Don’t get me wrong, I understand the potential source of the guilt – he thinks he should have seen it coming and is gutted that he didn’t. That feeling that there’s something incongruous about his reaction stems from Moftiss’s story being driven solely by plot. The entire premise of The Lying Detective is that, even off his head on drugs, Sherlock can predict other people’s behaviour a fortnight out. So why the Norbury deduction, then? You didn’t have to be a genius to see that de-escalation was the only play. So, is Moftiss’s Sherlock clever or isn’t he? It depends on what direction they want to take the plot. They play up his intellect for style when it suits them and ignore it when it gets in the way of having a trigger pulled. If he’d given it all he had, used the full power of his mind and still failed, Mary had still died, that twinge of the ego and John’s irrational feeling of betrayal would have been more warranted. All the stubbled, Byronic theatrics would have been earned. He would have been replaying everything in his mind to see what he missed. But he didn’t miss anything. He just acted like a not very clever arrogant cock.

I’ve made it pretty clear that I think the Mary Watson/AGRA storyline was a steaming pile. I didn’t like or believe her character. The character is head-spinningly inconsistent because they keep shoving her around in the plot and not reconciling the conflicts that arise. Nevertheless, I’m sickened by how ill-used she’s been. If The Six Thatchers didn’t already demonstrate it, Mary’s story was all in service to ramping up the man-emo quotient – to get John and Sherlock to gnash their teeth and rend their garments. The loving spouse, smiling beatifically and giving emotional advice from beyond the veil – that’s where they decided to take the BAMF assassin. They can take that nonsense straight back to the vomitorium where they sourced it. But that’s not really my biggest problem with the narrative.

“The only way to save John is to make him save you.”

As, Moftiss has written it, the entire construct of the Sherlock-John-Mary relationship is organised around John being an object – there to be manipulated. Mary couldn’t advise Sherlock to treat John like an adult and be patient and do the unsexy, heavy lifting of being a best mate. That would mean treating John like a person, not a series of buttons to push. Do you know what works with most non-personality disordered people who have “trust issues”? Persistence. But that’s not flashy enough, though, is it? Telling a drug addict who has a history of reckless behaviour that might reasonably be classified as self-harm to put himself in terrible danger to spur John into action is something a psychopath would suggest. That is Moftiss’s vision of the loving spouse whose spectre is haunting John. Except I honestly don’t think they even see the deeply disturbed psychology they’ve conjured. In their minds, Mary has been completely rehabilitated, and her egging Sherlock into self-harm is noble, just like shooting and nearly killing him somehow was. Are mature adults who’ve actually been in relationships or who’ve just interacted with other human beings for any length of time really meant to be taking any of this seriously? And then there’s the notion that someone as warped as Mary had much to teach John about being a good man – that her vision of him was somehow superior to what he already is. John Watson isn’t perfect, but this idea that he needed Mary to improve him and get him up to scratch is not only unsupported by everything that’s come before but relies on the grotesque stereotype that every man is a bumbling dumb fuck who needs a “good woman” to straighten him out. Disgusting. Moftiss have constructed a reality in which a person who is willing to shoot and kill people to hide her past ill deeds has a superior moral compass to someone who inappropriately texted a woman he met on a bus. All the brutal violence Mary did to the eponymous hero of the show is inconsequential, but John flirting via text is of great importance. It’s no wonder the story is careening out of control. The things that should matter don’t.

The return of Irene Adler.

A few months ago, in an Instagram post, I theorised that Sherlolly was the ship Moftiss would most likely go for (there was never going to be Johnlock). I knew an attractive woman was always going to be their play, so, barring a newcomer, I assumed it would be Molly. Irene Adler would be next in line. Sherlolly just seemed like the likeliest outcome given Molly helping Sherlock fake his death and the way she came out of her shell and started calling him on his bullshit. But I underestimated just how much Moftiss esteem flash over substance. I do not like the handling of Irene Adler in any of the recent incarnations of Sherlock Holmes and will continue to argue until there is no breath left in me that: Irene Adler is not Delilah to Sherlock Holmes’s Samson! In the original Arthur Conan Doyle story, A Scandal in Bohemia, she beats him while keeping all of her clothes on and by outstrategising him, not by distracting him and drugging him. Not-quite-dead Mary cackling, “I bet you saved her! The posh boy loves the dominatrix!” made me want to rage puke. The whole point of Irene Adler, what makes her “The Woman”, is that she doesn’t need anyone, least of all Sherlock Holmes to White Knight for her. She handles her business better than he ever could.

Moving on.

I can’t believe they actually had a middle-aged adult tell another middle-aged adult: “romantic entanglement would complete you as a human being.“ Our relationships (romantic and otherwise) should enrich and improve our lives, but this notion that we’re all hobbled and shambling through life and need to be repaired by our “soulmates” has got to stop. It’s why so many people can’t have healthy romantic relationships grounded in reality – they’ve set their significant others (and themselves) unmeetable, fairy tale standards, and their disappointment and ensuing resentment are foregone conclusions.

Take it all straight back to the vomitorium.

Miss me?

No, Jim. I don’t. Whenever a show circles back to the vanquished supervillain, Fonzie is prepping his water skis.

The secret brother is really a secret sister whose name is The East Wind, and she’s completely unhinged and may be Moriarty or is at least connected to him, and there’s some weird psychosexual element between her and her brother who doesn’t seem to know what she looks like, and…

GTFOH AND GTFOH FOREVER!

Once Mary Watson said “It’s a skip code”, a preposterous story became virtually inevitable, so I’m not surprised Sherlock has descended into near pantomime. The real reason I’m pre-emptively upset about the finale is because I know Eurus’s mental illness will be treated solely as a plot driver. Moftiss will only scratch the surface of the pain, the fear, the feelings of failure, the societally enforced shame, the hopelessness that a family goes through when one of them is diagnosed with a mental illness serious enough to require long-term institutionalisation. Really think about what it means to be related to someone who is criminally insane and how much good drama lives there. There will be helicopters and gunfights and fisticuffs, maybe even abseiling, in the finale, but virtually no real examination of the damage done by the emotional claymore mine that went off, kept going off and is still going off in the Holmes family after Eurus was diagnosed. And Eurus herself? Maybe they’ll show her as a child strangling a cat or hurting Redbeard (if they even pay her that much attention outside of letting her gorge herself on the scenery), but she’ll be a caricature, a monster with no inner life. How do I know they’ll do this? Because they spent this entire episode using visual and auditory hallucinations – signs of extreme mental disturbance and distress that require urgent psychiatric intervention – as shorthand for “I’m grieving the death of my spouse”. They couldn’t show John alone, struggling with a newborn, suffering through the feelings of abandonment and intense isolation that underpin grief because it’s too ordinary.

Everyone has been pointing out all the call-backs to previous episodes and what they mean. Here’s my go at it: I predict that John’s grief and psychiatric issues are now magically fixed, just like his limp and his PTSD. Moftiss told us from the very beginning that Sherlock was shallow and emotionally incoherent. But:

I’ll hate-watch the finale just for the sake of completion and as source material for the inevitable rant.

Moftiss…

Ugh…

Thank goodness for the palate cleanser of Elementary…

#sherlock #the lying detective #tld #hate-watching

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operationrainfall · 4 years

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Ever since I got hands on time with Cat Lady, I’ve been a fan. It was immediately apparent this was a game with a lot of style and substance, as well as a passionate team developing it. As a fan of twin-stick shooters and the rogue genre, it instantly struck a chord with me. But it’s easy to impress a gamer at first blush, the real challenge is maintaining that sense of wonder and joy as the game grows and evolves. So I finally set aside some time to play the Cat Lady early access, and here’s what I’ve found.