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kyogre-blue · 3 years

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Insanely long, sorry to any fool caught up in it.

List of Inazuma lore to look into later, since there’s so much new stuff and I can’t keep track.

Viewpoints:

Ritou: “Legend has it that hundreds of years ago, Lord Hiiragi Hiroshi of the Kanjou Commission miraculously built a prosperous trade center from a deserted island.”

(This dude came up elsewhere too.)

Tenryou, Inazuma City: “Under the eternal and silent gaze of Her Highness the Ogosho Shogun, the people living in the hustle and bustle of the city will finally be free from the worries of obsession, and move to a paradise where they no longer need to chase and compete for their aspirations.”

(This Ogosho title is interesting. Also, note the “eternity”/euthymia goal that Yoimiya touched upon in her chapter 1.)

Tatara Islands, Kannazuka: “The magnificent Blast Furnace here is used to produce a steady stream of high-quality Jade Steel for Inazuma. Recently, however, due to the war, the Mikage Furnace that drove the production has been damaged.”

Kujou Encampment: “Legend has it that during a disaster hundreds of years ago, Shigeyori Kujou, a mortal general whom Her Highness valued greatly, built a battlefront fortress in one night and fought valiantly against the forces of darkness.”

(Another event from the Cataclysm.)

Nazuchi Beach: “In the ancient language of the Inazuma ancestors, "Nazuchi" means "to be tenderly caressed by the hands of the gods." Ironically, Nazuchi Beach has been ravaged by war since a thousand years ago and has become a place for scavengers and pirates, with few inhabitants.”

(“Ancient language of Inazuma” huh. This war from thousands of years ago... should bet the Archon Wars, I guess? Or it might be Abyss-related.)

Yashiori Island, Musoujin Gorge: “According to the legend, the strike that brought and end to the serpent god was slashed right here. In this deep canyon that runs through Yashiori Island, the remnant reverberations of lightning bolts continue to this day, as if the thunder elves are still chattering about the legendary scene that tore through the sky and the earth thousands of years ago.”

(Hang on!! This serpent was killed thousands of years ago?! So then Ba’al wasn’t the one who did it? Or else, is she much older than her reign as Archon?)

Serpent’s Head: “According to the legend, the giant serpent that once ventured into the deep sea was finally slain on Yashiori Island.”

(Interesting note about the deep sea. When hyping up a kaijuu’s credentials, you’d normally say they came from the deep sea, so this point about the serpent going there should be implying something about the... corruption and old gods lurking there?)

Most notable part is the serpent killing, island splitting timeline. Is it really like that, or am I misunderstanding?

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Artifact sets:

Shimenawa's Reminiscence

Belonged to a human shrine maiden named Kanade, who trained under the Kitsune Saiguu.

Confirming that Lady Saiguu was a “mighty kitsune.” At the very least, she was not entirely human, perhaps not human at all.

She had a tobacco pipe that she sometimes knocked people on the head with.

“Everything in the world is entangled. Hence, illusory visions were born out of concrete reality. The so-called omamori cannot make one's wishes come true at all, but they can make them eternal through this entanglement." (vis a vis eternity and also her memories leaving such a deep impression on the land that Kazari was born.)

Regarding people affected by Lady Saiguu’s passing: “The Great Tengu went into self-imposed exile, enraged at her own incompetence as the Lady Saiguu's protector, leaving Teruyo behind. Harunosuke left for another country amid the fury of his mourning, while Nagamasa joined the Shogunate to clear the Mikoshi name. As for the man who taught me archery in the sacred forest and patiently listened to my naÏve promise under the scarlet sakura boughs, he will eventually return to me, even if he were to be blinded by splattered blood, or turned into a fierce beast by that dark defilement...”

Regarding the time while Kanade was at the shrine: During this time, even someone as inhuman as the mighty Yougou Tengu has gotten a daughter. Even that leatherhead Konbumaru has also become one of the Shogun's own Hatamoto, and shall soon marry the daughter of a high-ranking samurai. "Such a lovely kid. Even the great Yougou Tengu, who used to kill all day for fun, had the mother inside her brought out... just a little."

(Based on a later comment, Konbumaru had some kind romantic thing with Kanade?)

About memories: "No... it means that the person you're missing will be lucky enough to become a part of your memories forever." That's why you have to be strong and must live on for a long, long time. Even if all the people you cherish are gone, as long as you are still alive, The time you spent with them will never perish...

About losing memories, per Lady Saiguu: "Life is full of uncertainty. Love is fleeting, and even lasting memories may be lost. Losing one's memory is no different from losing one's life. It is like death amidst darkness eternal."

Emblem of Severed Fate

About the last member of the Mikoshi oni clan, who became “Douin” Iwakura Doukei.

"Mother had bared her fangs against the Shogun, who had been kind to her and who had given her a treasured sword. In the end, the only thing that was sent back to the Mikoshi Clan was the tsuba of that blade which she had loved so dearly.

“She would make such contributions as to make an eternal name for the ever-thinning blood of the war-oni. If she was engulfed by the pitch-black tiger-beast of sin itself, then she would tear it apart from the inside.“

“But it was stained black in the end, together with her fiercely beating heart...“

The eldest son (a mortal with oni-blood) met a Yougou Tengu girl, who gave him a new family name, Iwakura.

Her name was Teruyo. His name was Doukei.

"Thinking back, I changed your name in hopes that you might escape from the curse of the oni bloodline. With that war, non-human blood grows thinner and thinner. Ah well. We should not covet the happy endings that humans enjoy, after all. But you're different. You are now 'Iwakura.' You are no longer the 'Mikoshi' who shoulders the burden of oni blood."

“In the distant past, when Seirai Island had yet to be shrouded by storm clouds, memories would rise and fall like breaths. In the end, the elegant container that contained thunderstorms and tremors could not be handed over to the one to whom it was promised.”

(What’s this??)

Doukei once repaired a “seal cage” (an inro, a kind of rigid pouch that hangs from the belt) for a Hatamoto.

This Hatamoto was skilled with a sword but also learned archery from a Tengu. He was a gambler and also had a “sweet wife.” He was also a gambler. He had “terrifying nightmares, in which he cut off his own head...”

“With his secret sword technique, Tengu Sweeper, Iwakura Doukei became the Kujou Clan's swordsmanship instructor. He also received the title of "Douin" and founded a successful sword school.” (He is then referred to as “Sir Douin.”)

He was contemporaries with the young Kanjou head, Hiiragi Hiroshi.

"With your sword, even Ako Domeki of Seirai would be no match..."

(More people for the 500 years ago gang.)

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Weapon materials:

Coral Branch

Watatsumi Island is the furthest from Narukami Island in the Inazuman island chain, and its name means "the god of the oceans" in the island's ancient tongue. Legend has it that when the great serpent first arose within the abyssal nation of ever-night, its fluorescent body was covered in myriad-colored coral.

This coral cannot be found anywhere in Teyvat, but was a gift that the great serpent obtained when it broke into the Dark Sea.

Fleeing into the Dark Sea, the god that had lost everything met the abandoned people who had nothing within the ocean depths. Thus it elected to remain and become their "Orobashi no Mikoto," their "Watatsumi Omikami."

It is said that the great snake god once broke off all the coral branches on its body to give light to the children who were curled up in the darkness. They also say that it used these coral branches to create a huge ladder to allow those children to once again reach the surface and see the light of day.

And it was also because the serpent god now had people who worshiped it that it stayed in the world it should have long fled, breaking off the coral branches that adorned its body, treading upon land where it should not have, and facing a foe it could never hope to match — till at last, its divine form was sundered along with the mountains, its ichor turned into plasma, and its will and power became a curse that could never be extinguished: Tatarigami.

Lots of interesting points coming together here. The Tatarigami was previously the deity of Watatsumi “Orobashi no Mikoto.” Probably, the old tensions between Narukami and Sangonomiya that Ayaka mentioned are because the Electro Archon (based on Narukami) killed the Tatarigami.

The Watatsumi gained power from the “Dark Sea” (probably the Abyss, or connected to it), but it willingly gave away that power for the sake of “abandoned people” in the ocean’s depths. This is probably Kokomi’s ancestors.

Narukami tomoe

Ba’al insights:

In the past, the ancients would climb the peak now known as Mt. Yougou and bend wood that had been charred by lightning into a hook to offer as an effigy unto the thundering force that lit up the skies and shook the earth. This shape would eventually become the "Electro Mitsudomoe" symbol, symbolizing the favor, wisdom, and might of Electro, and also the people who represent these values.

In the monster-filled tales of the ancient past, those who were deeply trusted by the Shogun would bear talismans with this hooked design on their person, and just as the word "commission" means to "joyfully serve" in the old tongue, those who received her favor would return it with love and loyalty. Yet, after a certain point in time, nothing would be as it was before.

All demons who wander in the wilderness or live amongst mortals will be attracted by the sight of the Almighty Narukami Ogosho, represented by the Electro Mitsudomoe. Though their lives may be longer than any creature, they will at last come to their end. If those with limited lifespans hanker after eternity, then they can only pray that "Eternity" remembers them. And she did indeed answer their prayers, remembering them all, friend and foe alike, in her heart. No matter whether it was the demon owls who resided amidst the fog and ripped through the skies, the bake-danuki who dared to trespass her imperial gardens, or that female oni, lovely as the moon and mighty in battle, yet who would eventually come to blows with her... Whether it was the tengu who soared on dark wings or the Kitsune Saiguu who once walked by her side, but who eventually disappeared forever... These countless tales have come to rest within her heart, and someday, they will surely shine again in the eternal paradise of her dreams.

The treasure of the lord of thunder is her majesty, and that majesty is embodied in her valor and wrath. Her wrath comes from the love that persists in her heart, and her valor supports that anger. Thus, whomsoever should block the path towards eternity or lay a finger on Inazuma's people shall become her foe. They say that there were four great spirits, three divine foxes, and two great swords — but that the symbol of Her Excellency, the Almighty Narukami Ogosho, could only be a single strike, unsurpassed and brilliant as a meteor.

Oni mask

Holy shit, the rarest mask had like five paragraphs of lore alone.

There was an oni named Torachiyo, who would eventually betray the Shogun and revolt, becoming shorn of an arm and a horn in the battle before fleeing and slaying itself in a fit of furious madness. He once shattered the Shogun’s naginata with a single bite.

The oni nursemaids tell is differently: "He was once a beloved lieutenant of the Shogun, and he followed her into the dark abyssal realms to repel the defiled ones, winning renown for the oni, whose blood thinned with each passing day.”

“Chiyo, a warrior of the oni tribe with the Electro Mitsudomoe emblem emblazoned on her back, was once swallowed whole by a beast from beyond this world that had a tiger's body and a serpent's tail while holding back the forces of darkness. At last, she tore the creature's innards apart from within, breaking free.”

OG Torachiyo was actually female: “This is the origin of the phrase "Chiyo the Tiger-Bite," and would be changed over many years to "Torachiyo."”

“But within the belly of the beast, she was stained by a deep sin and saw her comrades ripped to shreds by those blood-red teeth. Steeped in darkness as far as the eye could see, she would eventually draw her sword upon the Almighty Narukami Ogosho.”

So this is Iwakura Doukei’s mother. She lost her sanity due to corruption from the Abyss.

“Or perhaps she even met the oni-masked, sword-bearing doll near the corpse of the giant serpent, and there ended her life's journey.” (It’s Maguu Kenki! It’s older than 500 years.)

“Few among those who fought against the abyss in those days were spared pitch-dark dreams. Those who slew monsters and then became them were hardly the minority. The border between worlds grows fragile, and corruption of this kind is perhaps not merely monodirectional.”

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Weapons:

Mistsplitter Reforged

"Arataki of the Front Gate, Iwakura the Successor, Kitain the Serpent, Takamine the Mistsplitter."

Takamine was the user of this sword.

He also learned archery from the Yougou Tengu, and passed that knowledge on to a person he loved. At the end of his life, he assumed the position of one of the Shogun's yoriki and fought against a dark army.

"Asase, our promise... No, say rather our great bet. I will not lose it, not for the world!"

The sword broke into a thousand pieces as he fought this battle.

The yet unreleased bow Thundering Pulse also belonged to this guy. It confirms that Konbumaru is also his name. He was taken as a servant of the Tengu after a bet and learned archery from them then.

This means he is the guy Iwakura Doukei mentions in the Emblem artifact set. This would also make him Kanade’s love interest. I suppose Asase would be her family name.

(Also, Thundering Pulse’s last lines are brutal. Mistsplitter mentions how he clung to the wager to return, clutching at his broken sword’s hilt... “The lone returnee who came stumbling back from the abyss finally met the shrine maiden again, though by now she could no longer be called young. Dull eyes stained with dried blood and tears regained their radiance, but were pierced through by a barbed arrow glowing with power.” Bullshit!!! You can’t do this to me!)

#genshin impact #genshin lore

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theschizoidblog · 4 years

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Snape, the Schizoid

Blog 4: 30/07/2020

While I usually write about how Schizoid personality disorder affects me, I think there’s a lot to be learned from drawing comparisons to fictional characters. In fact, before I got my diagnosis, I was writing fanfiction in which I poured very large portions of my soul and very being, often without realizing I wasn’t really writing about other characters, but I was exploring my own inner self. I loved writing about outcasts, about recluses and sometimes I didn’t know if I just was in a sort of love with the characters I wrote about, or if they were me.

At the age of 18, we’re talking about 2001 here, I got into Harry Potter. And with that I mean: I got into Severus Snape. Described as an ugly git and a mean bastard, I still loved him to pieces. (And Alan Rickman portrayed him beautifully, RIP)

And here might be the reason why he lured me in straight away: Snape is a schizoid, like me. And that only clicked when I got my diagnosis a few months ago. 19 years after first encountering the character. And after rereading some of my own fanfictions, I started realizing that what I’d described as Snape’s problems and needs in those stories, were my own. Strange how that works!

In this blog, I’m going to run over some traits of SPD (schizoid personality disorder) and explain how Snape fits into the criteria.

This post serves three purposes:

To people who have no idea what schizoid personality disorder is, this is a means to familiarize yourself with the disorder by exploring the traits while you imagine a character you already know.

To people with schizoid personality disorder, this is just meant to be a fun little blog where maybe you can recognize some traits of yourself. No worries, I have not forgotten we’re all on a spectrum and each schizoid is different.

To fans of the Harry Potter novels, I hope that you come to realize that people can identify with flawed characters for very personal reasons. Don’t be mean to fictional characters (unless they’re Umbridge I guess XD), because you never know who identifies with them. Your rejection of a character can feel like the rejection of a person who struggles with the same things. Anti-culture, in all fandoms, has to end. It’s not adult. It’s not wise. It’s mean. It’s exhausting.

I also feel like I need to make a statement about JK Rowling’s intent: I doubt she knew what SPD was when she wrote Snape. She said she based him off of one of her old teachers – no idea if that man had SPD or was just generally unpleasant. The way that Snape matches SPD is eerie though, just like Luna matches schizotypal personality disorder rather well. (More on that later.) An actual psychologist might disagree with me and say “No he’s not schizoid because….” – and hell, I’d love to hear it. I don’t mind it if this post, written by a schizoid but not a psychologist, starts a discussion that will help people understand the disorder even better, even if I’m wrong in assessing Snape. Or if we can learn to understand Snape better because of me being wrong, that’s also a win-win situation.

Ready? Let’s dive into it!

Cause

SPD is said to be caused by a combination of genetics and environment – as is the case with many other personality disorders. But ask around in schizoid groups, and most will tell you that there were issues in childhood with abuse, lack of warmth or understanding at home, or the presence of a “bad parent”. According to webmd: “Some professionals speculate that a bleak childhood where warmth and emotion were absent contributes to the development of the disorder.”

We all know that Snape’s early childhood was not a happy one. He had an abusive muggle father and grew up at Spinner’s End, the opposite of what you could consider a happy childhood home.

When you grow up in a loveless home, it ruins a lot of your own enjoyment of life. You get trust issues, you become awkward, and so when Snape finally arrives at Hogwarts, he gets bullied. He’s already rather isolated (he only had Lily), and they picked on him because kids can sniff out weaknesses and he was an easy target.

The bullying did nothing to stop the disorder from developing further. Many schizoids have gone through bullying themselves, and it does nothing to help you grow closer to human beings as you get older, quite the opposite, a bond of trust is broken and it’s incredibly hard to heal that. You’ll be suspicious of everyone you meet once that sort of thing happens. The more bullying you receive, the more you hate the world as you grow up. Maybe that’s not true for all people or all schizoids, but I bet some can relate.

You might say: “But Harry also got bullied at the Dursleys and he turned out fine!” Well, I guess he did. That’s the thing with many heroes – their tragic backstories make them poster boys of “look what they overcame and how he saved the world!” – but it’s not that realistic, and if you’ve got a genetic predisposition to develop a personality disorder instead, you’re screwed. Let’s also not forget that Harry’s first year in life was a very loving one. The very first year in a child’s life is crucial, and if things go wrong in early childhood, that leaves scars that most people carry with them for the rest of their lives. Snape never had that steady sort of home, not even for one year, or if he did, there’s nothing to indicate he did.

Diagnosis Criteria

Okay, time to get digging! According to the DSM-V, you need to display at least four symptoms in order to be diagnosed with SPD. Also keep in mind that these traits need to be present for longer than just a few months or a year or so. You might recognize some of these traits as something you’ve gone through yourself if you’ve ever been depressed – it’s when these traits last for what seems like your entire adult life, that a diagnosis with the disorder can be made. (I’m also not familiar with every other trait of every other disorder in the DSM-V, so as I stated in the beginning, it’s possible that other personality disorders are even more fitting of Snape, but that I just don’t know them yet.)

The seven criteria are:

Lack of desire or enjoyment for close personal relationships

Always chooses solitary activities

Little or no interest in sex with other people

Experiences little pleasure from activities

No close friends other than immediate family

Indifference to criticism or praise

Emotional detachment and lack of emotional expression

➤ Emotional detachment and lack of emotional expression

While this is usually at the bottom of the list, I want to put it on top. This is what they also call “flat affect”. You can give us a present, and it might seem like we’re not truly grateful. We may laugh with a joke, but the light never reaches our eyes. Emotionally, it doesn’t seem to an outsider like there’s a lot going on, and if it is, it’s going on so deeply within our souls we’re hardly aware of it ourselves. Think of Snape’s monotonous voice when talking. Now Alan Rickman is a brilliant actor and emotes with very very small signs sometimes, and it’s not like when talking to me, you’re talking to a wall. (But my empathic mask makes me appear rather normal to most folks.) (I don’t think Snape has a mask like that.) Other characters that have schizoid traits are, for example, Mai from Avatar the Last Airbender or Geralt of Rivia from the Witcher. If you know and visualize these characters, you may understand better what I mean with the “lack of emotional expression” then. Also, Snape being a great Occlumens? It’s because he’s the reigning champion in suppressing his emotions, like all schizoids are. We would make wonderful Occlumens, I think. XD Snape being mean? Not all schizoids have a good amount of empathy, they’re too emotionally detached for that. (Others are very empathic to some causes, but might be picky in what they are empathic about. For example: they can be empathic towards animal cruelty and Black Lives Matter, but don’t give a shit about other causes.)

A lack of empathy is what makes plenty of people an easy prey to fascists. Without empathy, what moral compass is going to stop you from becoming a bigot? (And I also want to state that within the disorder you’ll probably find people of all political leanings – many schizoids also seem to have a thing for the underdog, and thus seem to often lean towards the left instead of the right side of the political spectrum. But as with ‘regular’ people, you’ll find people swing both ways.) But here, in Snape’s case, his hatred for his bullies and his father (a muggle) pushed him right into the Death Eater’s arms, and they were glad to welcome a man of his skill, maybe even giving him the illusion, for a while, that he had found a new family. It didn’t last, and eventually his eyes opened to what the Death Eater’s really were. He was too young and naïve to see what they wanted of him (and the one person he loved), and it basically ruined his life. He was a teenage fool, and after losing Lily’s friendship, he had no one left to keep him out of that bad group of friends.

➤ Lack of desire or enjoyment for close personal relationships

Does Snape strike you as the social type that’s trying to make new friends all the time? Have you ever seen the man enjoy the company of another character in the books? Not just tolerate, not just need, but ‘enjoy’? Even when it comes to Lucius or Karkarov, it seems he is just keeping an eye on them, observing them rather than offering true friendship.

Maybe McGonagall might be an exception. He seems amiable towards her, in a competitive way. He might get a kick out of their arguing. She’s certainly an intelligent woman so he might enjoy her company for intellectual reasons.

➤ Always chooses solitary activities

We see Snape engage in a few activities at Hogwarts, such as going to Quidditch matches, or being present at the Yule Ball. Death Eater meetings and gatherings in the staff room might be social activities, but let’s not pretend Snape has a lot to say about whether he attends those or not. As a teen he already excels at potions, a solitary activity, and when we are given a glimpse of his “summer” lifestyle at Spinner’s End in Half-Blood Prince, he’s just reading. He certainly doesn’t entertain a crowd in his spare time, like, for example, Slughorn does.

➤ Little or no interest in sex with other people

I hear you coming now. “BUT LILY!” Schizoids are often asexual, but not necessarily sex-aversive. When asking around in a schizoid group, about a third of the schizoids seem to be in relationships or are even married, perhaps even more. And many of the others have had sexual relationships in the past. Many have tried to make relationships work, only to realize at a later point that that sort of life was not for them and that they would never be truly happy in a relationship. Other schizoids are happy in relationships – so it exists! It’s not impossible! (Remember: you need 4/7 traits, not 7/7 to be schizoid.) Also keep in mind, if Snape really was interested in sex, why would he pine after a dead woman for 16 years? He’d be over her way sooner and into someone else’s pants way sooner too. Lily was the first person in his life that gave him any kind of warmth, so him pining after her is not strange or inexplicable behavior. She offered what he craved, what he lacked, and he mourned her for the rest of his life, because he feared no one would ever give him that warmth. (And he kind of turned that into a self-fulfilling prophecy by being such a recluse.) He dreamed of love, but we have no idea what it would have been like had he actually ever had his affections returned. Maybe he’d have enjoyed a relationship with her for a long while and she would have been the only person he could have tolerated, or maybe after a year or so he would have thought “this is suffocating” and ended the relationship.

➤ Experiences little pleasure from activities

Can you recall Snape laughing in any scene? Smiling, even? I can imagine him to feel rather content when brewing potions or studying the dark arts, and he does have passion for what he does. But to a schizoid, passion and pleasure are not necessarily the same. We experience emotions differently. In some ways we don’t experience them at all, in other ways, we might feel like there’s a wall around our emotions, and we have no idea how to get over that wall and check what the currently active emotion is. But with logic, we can determine “I guess I’m happy now that I’m doing this thing I like doing.” Intellectual pursuits are fun too – like solving a puzzle, it gives a little boost of dopamine when you make it to the next level, so it’s not surprising he excels at Potions.

➤ No close friends other than immediate family

Basically, Snape only really had Dumbledore, and that bastard only used him to win the war. (I have beef with old Dumbledore, okay?) But Snape confided in Dumbledore, and the other way around, and so I think it’s safe to say that there was a true friendship between the two. When Dumbledore died, Snape was truly alone. (Which is incredibly tragic and heartbreaking when you think about it – in the last year of his life, Snape had no one, really no one, as he tried to keep Hogwarts ‘safe’ and eventually died. And everyone hated him for killing Dumbledore, not knowing the truth about his allegiance. Everyone who had once spoken kindly to him, like the other professors at Hogwarts, now considered him arch enemy #2, behind Voldemort.)

➤ Indifference to criticism or praise

Compliment or insult a schizoid, and it’s not like they won’t give any response at all. They might say “thank you” or they might get a little defensive about the insult, but they won’t always lose a lot of sleep over it. It kind of depends on who the praise or criticism is coming from. I can imagine that it did mean something to him if it came from Dumbledore, whom he cared about. I don’t think it meant anything to him what his students thought of him, since he didn’t give a personal level of shit about them. There’s also a moment where Umbridge shrieks “You are on probation!” and it’s described as “Snape looked back at her, his eyebrows slightly raised.” Then she says that she expected better after how highly Lucius Malfoy always speaks of him and she dismisses him. Snape then gives her “an ironic bow” – he really doesn’t give a rat’s ass and I love him for it.

These are the 7 criteria that you need to fit 4 of to be diagnosed with SPD – I managed to link all 7 to Snape – so I think it’s not unlikely that Snape is truly a schizoid. Now, for the next part I would like to highlight some other comorbidities which many schizoids also have, that seem to appear in Snape as well.

Comorbidities

➤ Depression In about half of all schizoid patients, depression is or has been present. How do you notice that in Snape? The greasy hair, among other things. Bad teeth. Always wearing the same outfit. If you’ve ever suffered from a bad depression, you know how difficult it suddenly becomes to shower at a regular interval, how you can go days without brushing your teeth, how wearing comfortable clothing is more important than looking fashionable – how it is absolutely meaningless to look fashionable because who the fuck cares anyways. Snape doesn’t seem to give a hoot about himself or his appearance, which strikes me as a sign of depression. And what does he have to be happy about? He knows Voldemort is going to return and he’ll have a cursed job as a double-spy. He knows he’s probably going to die. I wouldn’t be happy either.

➤ Anger Outbursts/PTSD Not all schizoids have this, but it’s something I have myself and which I’ve written about extensively in one of my previous blog posts. I look at it as a way of my inner self breaking down the walls and coming out to say “I know that I’ve been quiet for the past 37 years but what the fuck I’m really angry about this and have been for a while and I’m not going to contain it any longer” – and then the anger comes out disproportionately. It’s hard to impossible to really control such an outburst. And often, there is a very obvious cause to the outburst. Sometimes it’s PTSD related. For Snape, while he does not emote often, you see a few outbursts – like when he is face to face with Sirius Black in the shrieking shack, his childhood bully. He seems mad at that moment, not at all composed anymore, the sign of a real anger outburst. (I think it’s PTSD helping that anger build.) A few moments later, he thinks he has turned in Sirius Black to the Ministry, Sirius, who he holds responsible for the death of James and Lily (and it’s especially the latter’s death he can’t cope with), so when Sirius escapes, he loses it again. Then the next time he gets really angry is when Harry enters his “worst memory”. That’s a few years later, during the Occlumency lessons. While he’s no longer shrieking, he’s white with rage. My pro tip: don’t impose on the privacy of a schizoid, we get mad. XD In Half-Blood Prince, he’s got a moment where he’s like “Don’t call me coward!”, looking ‘inhuman’. I too can get anger outbursts over false accusations, and this one must really hurt, because at that moment, he’s trying to save Harry’s freaking life while the boy is all like “lemme at you I’mma kill you like you killed Dumbledore for fun!” – Snape was probably grieving the loss of his only friend and confidant and knew he was on his own from that point onwards, and then you get this bloody teenager trying to drag you into a wizard’s duel you’re not in the mood for, calling you a coward, which is the last thing you are. Man it has to suck to be Snape. I also want to state that there are many moments when things go wrong in class, but Snape never loses his temper like that. He’s not pleasant and he punishes students, but he doesn’t get mad – he gets even. That makes it all the more interesting to analyze the moments that he does go bananas.

Random Thoughts

Before I finish this blog, there are still a few small things I’d like to get out of my system about Snape and SPD.

➤ Snape and Luna

They are my favorite characters, but also because they’re very, very alike and very, very different at the same time. Both didn’t have a great childhood (Luna lost her mother at a young age) and they get bullied as kids at Hogwarts. Snape is called Snivellus and Luna is called Looney. All the suffering they endure, affects them differently though. Snape gets meaner, Luna only seems to get nicer. I see them as two sides of the same coin. One dark, one light, both a little eccentric in their own way. When you look at it from a personality-disorder point of view, then they both have personality disorders that are related to one another. Snape has Schizoid Personality Disorder, Luna has Schizotypal Personality Disorder. Schizotypal Personality Disorder is where you’ll find a lot of eccentric people who believe in conspiracy theories. Both are class A personality disorders. Some people might even have the two personality disorders at the same time. Schizoids seem to be rooted in reality with their thoughts, schizotypals can really start believing strange things if they’re not careful, alienating them from others And, in case you’re now wondering: “So many schizo-personality disorders! Is this also schizophrenia?” No – schizophrenia is when you have delusions and hallucinations as well. Read up on those disorders if you’re interested, because these descriptions of mine are too brief and don’t do it justice.

➤ Snape was a bad teacher

Not fully, and yes, he was. I think knowledge-wise, Snape was way better at Potions than Slughorn ever was. You notice when Hermione can’t keep up in her sixth year while Harry is sailing through Potions thanks to Snape’s book. Snape’s a genius and would have been able to instruct his students to be more efficient when brewing potions. But personality wise? Don’t put a schizoid in front of a classroom. And for that, I kind of blame Dumbledore. Snape wasn’t asking for a job as a teacher, but that’s all Dumbledore had to offer, and thus he put Snape and his unwilling students in a room together where none of them wanted to be. I think Snape would have been better off as some kind of a scientist, just him and his books, inventing spells or potions. But he was not given much of a choice, and he was forced to socialize with teenagers (ew, gross), and that must have drained him terribly. It’s a wonder he was usually roaming the hallways at night because I would have been too exhausted to get out of bed. That makes you realize it’s truly a work of fiction because who on earth has that kind of stamina? :-P (No, in all seriousness it’s probably also depression at work, keeping him up.) Snape was a jerk to Harry and Neville and Hermione on various occasions, and not all of it was to “keep up appearances” to the Slytherins. He seemed to even enjoy a bit of sadism here and there. You could contemplate why he poisoned Neville’s toad. Was it just to spite poor little Neville, or was he hoping his student would perform better under pressure? (Which Neville did.. The toad didn’t die.) It’s a cruel way to teach a lesson, but I think he must have thought the end justified the means. But what a traumatic experience to Neville, who then had Snape become his greatest fear.

➤ Purity culture vs Snape

We’ve seen a shift on both Tumblr and other social media where fandom is about purity culture. Back in 2002 folks were like “We love the baddies, deal with it”, and the people that didn’t love the baddies actually dealt with it and you could joke with people who preferred the Gryffindors and just poke a little fun at one another, but it was fun fandom. But over the years I’ve seen fandom change. Nowadays you can’t even express love for Snape without someone seeing it as their moral obligation to remind you of what a “bad person he really was”. To them I can only say that I like him for his best qualities, and forgive him for his worst. And honestly, I don’t need to justify liking a character to anyone. If I want to put Umbridge-posters in every room of my apartment, are you going to stop me or call the cops on me? Purity policing is weird. Very American, too. (Though I’ve seen some Dutch folks go apeshit as well over purity concepts.) And as a Belgian I don’t have time to put up with that shit. XD And purity policing also is just nasty when you consider that some folks are like “I relate to this character” and the next person is like “THIS CHARACTER IS EVIL AND DESERVES TO DIE!” My response to that part of fandom is: “Just fuck off already, jerkface.” Personally I was heartbroken by his death, because I feel like he could have made up to the people he’d hurt, I would have loved to see relationships mended between him and McGonagall and him and Harry and such, but instead we were left with him passing on some awkward memories to Harry and then dying. (Tbh I’m not the greatest fan of his crush on Lily, but whatever, I can accept it and understand it. She was the only light he ever knew.) It’s not his fault he didn’t get to redeem himself as a character, not fully - and that’s what makes fanfiction fun. So if people want to explore that in fic, let them. A character like Snape is too much of a treasure to shove under a carpet and pretend he never existed. Write all the things about him, have him have all the adventures!

I think I’m done now! If you stuck around until now, 10 points to Slytherin or whatever house you’re from. (Probably Slytherin if you’re reading about Snape.) What do you think? Feel free to leave a comment, send an ask, or whatever!

#severus snape #snape #pro snape #schizoid #schizoid personality disorder #blog

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dropsofletters · 4 years

Text

you’re the last thing on my mind

title: you’re the last thing on my mind pairing: kim junmyeon/reader genre: best friends!au/bet!au/childhood friends!au summary: in a wooden box, junmyeon and his best friend find a signed letter from when they were nine years old. “if junmyeon is not married by the time he turns twenty-eight, we will become a couple.”. the thing is, junmyeon’s twenty-eighth birthday has already passed and pinky promises sound kind of compromising sometimes. type: fluff/humor/romance word count: 11,372

Pushing the curtains open to let the infamous light of the Sun in had never been so melancholic, as if all the speckles of dust dancing in the air, even more noticeable under the gaze of nature, were only a reminder of closure. The window that had once seemed too big and spacious, open for the wind to pass through and send a greeting to the duo of friends, was now smaller in size for they were taller, more mature, less naïve. The once full bookshelf by its side only held three books, none of them textbooks, simply tales that someone’s mother could never let go of, clinging to the days in which her son was not wise, neither was he independent. The bed was tidy, that much was known, but it looked unused, navy blue blankets looking like a sad shade of baby blue after years of remaining in the same place. The closet was open, showing a few outfits—a graduation hat for when a college degree excited the house with glee, a baseball uniform that was too tiny to even be for someone older than seven years old and a saddened, black hoodie that had not been touched in ages.

Like anything there. Junmyeon had left as easily as he had grown up in that room, and she had forgotten about how many times she had sat down on the floor with her best friend, coccyx unaware of pain when they remained in that position for hours. Homely, it had once felt, like they would never be old enough to get out of their little Peter Pan fantasy, but the years went by in the blink of an eye. Now, that room that had seen her with her worst hairstyles and had watched Junmyeon’s best and worst days, was going to belong to someone else. Once that house was sold, there would be another person in the average sized room. Perhaps, a couple. Maybe, a child. Either way, the virtue of their youth lived long in there.

Equally as nostalgic, he must be, though his expression showed nothing but happiness, a faint smile highlighting the apples of his cheeks, rounded and full from the moment he was born, his fingers touching the pictures on his bedside table. In reality, they have never been contrasting opposites, but they had grown differently. Junmyeon was intelligent, strong, honest, somewhat competitive and a perfectionist. She was at least two of those things, incredibly honest just like him, but imminently easily saddened and nostalgic. The air was too cold in a room that was once the warmest in her heart, the objects were far too small for the two people in there, and now life bit her with the sting of realization that told her not a single day would come by. The days could only move forward.

“I can’t believe your mom is selling this house.” Her wide eyed gaze settled upon him, watching as Junmyeon’s kneeled down beside the bed, speaking from his uncomfortable position.

“Right? When my mom told me she was going to move to Jeju with my dad, I was also surprised.” States the man that had been otherwise silent, lifting up a heavy box that is nothing to the weights he constantly plays with in the gym. The letters beside the wooden box are painted there, peculiarly his old handwriting in white paint that reads his name. The name of her best friend, Kim Junmyeon, all too well known by her—when she would scream it as a child as a greeting, the same one she uses on the daily, whether on text or to call for his attention. It has also been told in between all types of emotions, from anger to happiness. “But I mean, they deserve it. They want to finally take a break from work and such a busy life.”

Sweeping her gaze around the room, abandonment is the best way to speak about it, yet the most distasteful. Though, the comfort of Junmyeon’s old covers welcome her elbows when she sits down beside the bed, knees to one side to accompany her oldest friend. “They do,” Her voice cuts off, a million curses going through her head mentally, all warning signs in a hassle trying to stop her from crying, but a little bit of sniffling from her part is enough to catch Junmyeon’s attention, whose eyes immediately rest upon her expression. “I just can’t believe time has passed by so fast. I remember hearing them talking about this for years and years and it had always seemed to be so far away. We have truly grown up now.”

Dew seems to fall upon his hair, swept away from his face thank to gel, shiny in its black state. His cheeks still welcome a huge smile, though his eyes are seemingly more-so falling upon the definition of nostalgia. Junmyeon has grown, through and through, from the kid that would sprint around his home to a man growing a career in television. That, alone, leaves a sense of pride on her soul, only to explode by the time Junmyeon wraps his arm around her shoulder. “Hey, don’t cry.” Her body had betrayed her, something along the lines of longing and sadness coming in the shape of tears. “You are an ugly crier, come on.” Clinging to his white sweater would have not been beneficial if it was not for that comment, reaching up and softly smacking his cheek.

“Didn’t your mom teach you some manners, Junmyeon?”

“She did.” Unwrapping his strong grip from around her, his knees dig into the uncomfortable rug underneath them to reach up for the box, taking its lid off to be welcomed by its contents. She mimics his actions, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeves—thank god the color black exists for these occasions, she thinks—, and investigating what has Junmyeon so interested in the box. “Look at this! I didn’t remember we used to have like a box of memories.”

Frowning deeply, her hands connect the dots for her, reaching inside to grasp a few pictures in her hands, all too old and dusty to even be from the actual year. They are visibly smaller, too, Junmyeon and his best friend, that is. One too many dusted in memories and oldness. “No shit, that’s your sixth birthday!” Smiling, her excitement takes the best of her, wanting to hold on to the better days, when taxes were not a problem, playing was all they could ever think about and sleeping was simply overrated. “You looked so cute.”

“Looked?” Junmyeon questions, watching as she keeps taking pictures out. First time in middle school, when Junmyeon’s uniform was his way of showing his fashion choices—pretty and proper, just like him. One of those include a picture of her crying, always more emotional than he would ever be, and the big smile on his face shows how happy he always was. Glasses covering his features are mostly seen, the ones that he dismisses known because he forgets about them. “I think I still look good.” Taking out items of his own, like notes they passed to each other in class, and toys they used to share, Junmyeon is peaceful with the transition from child to adult, while she is remembering everything as if she was living it again just now.

“But those glasses, Myeon. Those glasses made you look so cute!” She points out with her fingers, his weight leaning over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the time-flying picture. “I wish you would wear them more.”

“I just don’t think they look good on me.”

“Wrong. They make you look your cutest.”

Unfolding a few of the torn papers in his hands, they laugh at the memories of the person they have known more than themselves—each other. Her misspelled words, his overly poetic phase in middle school, the nicknames they used to give to each other that they didn’t even remember, all parts of their past, what molded them to be the people they are today. Most forget about their past, fearing the cringe-worthy nature of youth, but she wishes she could go back to the easier days, where promises couldn’t be broken and ghosts were the biggest of fears.

With their eyes trained on a piece of paper, their eyes catch the sight of the neat writing, the overly elegant way of phrasing what they were trying to say and the date written in one corner, way different from the sweetly written notes they shared in class. This one seemed far more important, at least for nine-year-old aged Junmyeon, the memory bringing a smile to his face when he reads it out loud.

His back is tightly pressed to the wooden material of his bedside table, sporting his old, small glasses over his bigger face, somewhat funny when he reads the contents of the ‘contract’. “In this contract, I state that if I am not married by the age of twenty-eight, I will fall in love with my best friend.”

“No way!” She chuckles, all tears forgotten when her hands clasp the contract in his hands, reading over the profound words coming from the ever-dramatic Junmyeon. He always took himself too seriously, even when he was young. “I remember this. We truly didn’t believe you would get someone by the age of twenty-eight.” Painted in a blur of memories, she remembers Junmyeon growing up through his phases, somewhat different to hers. His first girlfriend came over in high school, not truly replacing her but taking part of his life more than she ever did, the theatre girl bringing him over to her practices and teaching him a thing or two. Then, he looked for something more serious—one of those rich girls with achievements too high for anyone who has a normal bank account, which had been his worst girlfriend yet. He grew and grew, so did she, but…their relationships were not bent, not fixed, they were like paper—bland, hurtful enough to give you a cut you never see, but you feel it whenever you move.

Scoffing, the man rolls his eyes at her words. “You also signed this,” He pointed out to her old signature, her name written in a childish manner. What one would do at that time, unaware of the heaviness of legal involvement. “You also believed you would not have someone at this age.”

“Well—” Not finding an excuse to slip from her tongue, the tired joints of her knees drag her to his side, placing the contract neatly on top of Junmyeon’s lap. “We are just not dateable people.”

“I’m a good boyfriend.” He defends when she rests her legs against his chest, earning a pointed glare from his friend. “What? I mean it.”

“Alright, whatever you say.” Moving her hand in a careless motion, she gives a piece of her mind in the form of flower-like words. Beautiful in presentation, yet with thorns to prick him. “I believe I am also a pretty decent girlfriend, thank you very much.”

Dragging the box until it lands on the floor with a loud thud, Junmyeon’s hand starts to caress the edge of it. “We wouldn’t have lasted either way, if we decided to be together, that is.” Fixing the glasses that dig uncomfortably on the side of his face, he gives her a soft smile. “You’re too much of a crybaby.”

Honesty is the best policy, in Junmyeon’s mind, and she shares the idea like their favorite coffee back in high school, when they would opt to buy one drink to save money—after all, they had to hide it from Junmyeon’s mom, who didn’t like her son to have too much caffeine. “Speak for yourself, perfect boyfriend.” She huffs at the name, as if it is ironic. “You take yourself too seriously.”

Pressing his index finger to her forehead, he pushes her head back slightly. “Take it back.”

“You’re the one saying I’m un-dateable.” Her act is mischievous when she crosses her arms over her chest, the innocence that surrounded the air suddenly switched to something outright crazy. Much more of their nature. One day, the twin-sized bed lost meaning, just like the windows became too small for the dreamer that Kim Junmyeon is and with the passage of time, their friendship died to a lullaby, only listened to when they needed to bring peace to their hearts. The rendezvouses they used to have, captured in pictures or in dreams that visit her late at night, from pranking each other to being the other’s wall through the unraveled breeze of heartbreak, are deeply missed by the woman. “You wouldn’t stand dating me either way. You’re too chicken.”

“I’m not.” He counterparts. “You are too chicken to date me, even if it’s fake.”

“Let’s do something.” Turning her body so she is facing him, she now realizes the weight of the situation. Junmyeon’s face had only aged slightly, but the appearance of him when he was young still clouded her vision at times, reminding her that they have grown…but they are the same people that met each other in school, the ones who would get back from school and stuff Junmyeon’s refrigerator with popsicles in hopes of his father never noticing what they were spending their school money in. At nine years old, Junmyeon did not think of the importance of dating and how difficult it is, and she didn’t, either. “Let’s bet a quarter of a month’s salary. We can pretend to be each other’s partner with the other and whoever breaks up with the other first, has to pay the bet.”

“That’s stupid.” He stands up from his spot, his strong and small hands holding the box that keeps his childhood alive.

“Chicken.” The mumble is not supposed to go past her lips, but Junmyeon’s eyes widen a big fraction when he turns to glare at her, the excitement of their friendship long gone, until he kicks her calf with the tip of his shoe.

“Okay, we’re doing it.” The certainty in his voice is typical of Junmyeon, wrinkles forming in between his eyebrows from his frown. “And you’re giving me all that money. You are not going to stand one day as my girlfriend.”

“Huh, I can be a bad girlfriend if I want.” The encounter is funny, holding on to his forearms to bring herself up, until she is standing in front of him. “Get that wallet ready for me.”

The old room in Junmyeon’s household saw a redemption of their past, of what they had wished for when they were nine years old. Though ironic, it spices up her days—it brings that thrill that she needs nowadays, thunder in the middle of the rain. The parasite of competition thrives inside her, one that could only be fought back with the endlessly serious best friend she has.

Their bet sounds interesting, albeit seasoned with years of forgetfulness.

📜

The vanity that shows the reflection of the new man Kim Junmyeon is to this day holds precious things to him. The keys of his car, perfectly perched in some metal decoration; a glass filled with lemonade, something that he adores for his vocal chords before his annunciations in the local news program; some glasses he never uses, in case he needs to read something—though, he can always use the typical Junmyeon technique, squinting; and of course, there are handfuls of papers showcasing different information for the weather, all of which she never understands. He does, however, given to his job of being a recognizable weatherman. Her heart is too attached to his spine, his every being, to tell him that not a lot of people watch the news, that there is nothing wrong with him as a person, but the disinterest people have in the era of technology does play a big part on the issue.

Far more elegant from his usual form, he is, and he already the most polished person she knows. Quite unusual, really, given that she spends every single day stuck in an office, watching people in suits and horribly fashionable white button downs. Junmyeon spices up his style with something a bit vintage, the creamy colors of his suit, hinting at white shades with his shirt, gives something to talk about, though absentmindedly. Right now, he doesn’t even notice that his friend is looking at him with admiration—the man who wakes up early in the morning to greet other people’s day, indicating whether they should use a coat or not.

If it was not for that stupid bet, she would have been able to rest. Her boss had given the day off to the entire staff and instead of wrapping herself up in her blankets and wake up at the start of the evening, she decided to win that damned money and buy herself a good meal. She is definitely going to get Junmyeon to break up with her.

One of her exes had once told her clinginess was her way of pushing people away; there is only so much tugging and interested she can show to a person before it becomes annoying. Junmyeon had talked about this ex in the past, not too gleefully, saying she had let her sexual drive speak for her at the entrance of a relationship, but that is far in the past, almost imperceptible to her in her present. Instead, she uses her knowledge from that past relationship to her favor, wrapping her arms around Junmyeon’s shoulders, chest positioned behind his head, chin resting on his perfectly styled hair to earn a hiss from him before he gently pats her jaw.

“I just did my hair, don’t do that.” He mumbles, though it is loud enough for her to hear as she places her head now on his shoulder, looking down at the notes Junmyeon continues to read. Granted, he stops immediately, resting the sheets of paper down on his crossed legs before speaking up once again, their gazes connected in the mirror in front of them. “What makes you so cuddly?”

“I’m just hugging my boyfriend after three days of not seeing him.” Three days since the bet, more than seventy-two hours spent as boyfriend and girlfriend without treating each other differently. This is her first try and she thinks her biggest weapon, but Junmyeon’s eyes get filled with realization at that moment.

“So, that’s why you came here?” He asks, voice giving out the noise of amusement that leaves him.

Pulling away slightly, she weights the options of her response. In reality, Junmyeon has been her closest friend for the longest time, her best friend, even, but their professional lives do not connect at all and with how given they are to their jobs, they rarely get to see each other anymore. It is not a surprise to know that she had thought of going to Junmyeon’s workplace to visit him, see the magic of him speaking about the weather from up close, the news man that he always wanted to be an act that she could see live…but maybe, she also used this as an excuse to win the bet. “I was planning on coming here as your friend before we made that bet.” Her lips pucker up before they press down on his cheek, the smooch loud enough to fill the air around them in his little changing room, way smaller than the one for the bigger hosts. “But now I am here to give you all my love.”

This time, he squints because he is suspicious and not because he needs to read. “You’re never this…clingy…” Looking over his shoulder, she finally pulls away from him, a pleased smile on her face when his face morphed into one of realization. “You’re being clingy so I get annoyed?”

“Maybe,” She says with a shrug. “Is it working?”

“Sort of.” Junmyeon argues, standing up from his seat to talk to her properly. “I’m up in five minutes, though, and the least I need is for my coworkers to know I’m “dating” my best friend.” He leaves some quotations in the air, soon after continuing with his speech. “So, no, we won’t break up because you hug me but I’d appreciate it if you don’t act like my girlfriend around other people, because this is our secret.”

“You say it as if I want to scream it to the world.” She replies, only to earn a gasp from Junmyeon.

“You should want to scream it to the world.”

“…Why?”

“I—We’ll argue about this later, but as of now, don’t say anything to anyone.” Junmyeon shakes his head, leaving his notes on top of the vanity before calling her name softly, their conjoined steps ringing through the room and the hallway as they step towards the big studio. Bright, white lights illuminate desks, green screens and people cladded in suits, fake smiles displayed on some of their faces, others simply state more serious news—they don’t get to grin, but Junmyeon’s spot is in front of the green screens previously mentioned. In the matter of minutes, he leaves her standing behind the cameras while he prepares to start with his weather announcement, the gossip newspersons by her side, doing absolutely nothing after their speeches.

She should have known that people whose lives revolve around gossip are not to be trusted. They itch to have a subject, a puppet with one or two threads that remain loose for them to hold on to and rip it until that person was destroyed. In their brightly colored clothing and with their quirked eyebrows, they stare at Junmyeon like he is their prey, a simplistic man in the eyes of more prepared individuals. Wronged, they are, for Junmyeon has desired this far more than anyone ever would.

When they were children, Junmyeon would be the one to rehearse his speeches in front of her and in most occasions, she forgot to check the weather for the day, more often than not relying on Junmyeon to bring her an umbrella or lend her a looser shirt for her to change into when the desire to be fashionable pushed her to wear sweaters on the hottest of days. Surprising it was to hear him speak at the time, for all children craft their dreams based on what they hear, what they see in toys and TV shows—the ones with outspoken characters and slow-paced wording. Doctor is the most common; teachers some want to be…and then there was the class president, Kim Junmyeon, whose only dream was to be the weatherman. His dream was to be in front of a screen and put material knowledge into some kind of protection for the people around the city.

To him, it is important, and that makes it important for her.

His way of speaking is graceful, lips parting to utter what he has known, pointing at the green screen like he knows where everything is located, and he does. Junmyeon’s intelligence is often dismissed, thought as privilege instead of hard work, but that is far from the case. People only judge the realms of the powerful, they never tear to shreds someone who is already invisible or unimportant to their eyes.

A warrior never fights an empty threat.

“He has to change that way of speaking,” The only woman in the group says, her red hair curled to a style of the sixties, pin-up-esque in everything she did. “Stuttering will only leave the viewers confused, even if it’s just for a second.”

The tallest of the four group of newspersons chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest and her ears are practically capturing the slowest breath they take, wanting nothing more than to hear the situation develop in case she has to say anything. “Junmyeon is just not cut for this job.” Sometimes, people think of goals and dreams as too much. Everything needs to have a reason, it desires to be prepared in years of practice, but a person can’t ever dream just because they want to do something. A job cannot be loved anymore; it just has to be something you are great in; thus passion is seen as something replaceable. “…But the boss keeps him here because he is a nice-looking face. Most people will tune in for something as irrelevant as the weather just because he is good-looking.”

Laughter follows, though muffled because of the cameras, before the pin-up goddess, though more of a snake with its teeth wanting to seek in the nearest person whose power makes her feel insecure, speaks once again. “He’s not that handsome.” She says. “Like a four out of ten. He’s just one of those rich kids that thinks being on the news is the same as being on some stupid reality show.”

Perhaps, she should work on her patience or in her way of speaking, too rough and honest for it to be good. Maybe, that will be the cause of her death, when someone finally pulls a gun at her for being so damn slurry mouthed, but that comment is enough to have her turning around, stepping forward until she is close enough to the group of coworkers. “Listen, I am sorry I interrupt your conversation, but I can’t just listen to this much…nonsense.” She starts, earning a few surprised expressions from the people she is trying to talk to. “Your envy is showing through everything you say and it’s just so distasteful. Like, don’t you have work to do or a life to take care of instead of worrying about someone’s stutter or his tone or whatever?”

“He’s just doing it wrong. It’s not envy, but speaking like that is ignorant from your part.” One of them says, but she can’t bring herself to take a second glance at whoever it is.

“He’s talking about the weather, something real and palpable and important for the people watching this news show.” Looking up and down their faces, she continues. “Not like you, whose only talent is to gossip about people.”

The redhead rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest before scoffing. “Who are you? Aren’t you his best friend or are you just some crazy fan who wants to get in his pants?”

“Dude, this is not a TV series, no one is fan of a news reporter.” She complains and she can already hear the scolding that is going to reach her way once Junmyeon realizes exactly what she had done. “And I am his best friend, but also his girlfriend, so…lay off, will you?”

The sound of footsteps filled the air before someone’s presence was felt by her side. The ghost of a figure she knows very well, the person who will definitely have her head after this. “What is going on here?”

“Nothing.” The tallest indicates, sporting a big smile on his face, clear indicator of his fear of ever saying his critiques straight to Junmyeon’s face. “We were just planning to congratulate you two for getting together. Way to go, Junmyeon, you had only introduced her to us as your best friend, we didn’t know you were hiding something else.”

And that is how the gossip-obsessed people won a fight against her and how she ended up standing in the corner of the studio, talking in hushed whispers with Junmyeon, more like hearing him scold her with a frown on his face and the most obnoxiously stressed tone on his voice.

Emotional, she is, her biggest turmoil, the reason why she hates being so honest and yet, she can’t bear to differentiate anger from sadness or nostalgia, all three of those options finishing in tears from her part. Junmyeon, however, is a clear-spoken man, poised and stronger, though clearly touched whenever something happens to him. They help each other out and balance their emotions; she, who helps him show more and he, who shows her there is more to life than showing one’s weaknesses.

“They were just talking shit about you.” She argues, the conversation continuing as Junmyeon repeats the same words over and over again, just in different sentence structures. “I am sorry I said I was your girlfriend, okay? I just can’t stand the gossiping assholes that work with you.”

Junmyeon’s eyes soften when he realizes how shaken up she is, at the verge of having her muscles paralyze from the movements that overtake her, a clear state of her stress and pushed down anger. At the tip edge of crying, she must feel like, not one for confrontation even though she was the one to start it. “I get it, but…you don’t have to pay attention to them, I really don’t mind what they have to say.”

“I know!” She exclaims in a whisper. “But it’s just so unfair. You work so hard and you don’t get the credit you deserve.”

His hands stop on top of her arms, rubbing up and down to help ease her trembling, always mindful of how his friend reacts to most situations. “Don’t think too much about that.”

“I’m your friend, Junmyeon. Of course I have to think about that—”

“You’re my girlfriend. Girlfriends don’t worry this much.” He plays around, earning a small scoff from her before he smiles. “So calm down. It’s okay that you told them that, but don’t go defending me like that next time.”

The sound of a chuckle fills the air, along with the noise of keys dangling from someone’s fingertips. “Heard you had a girlfriend, Kim Junmyeon. Congrats!” When the supposed couple look to the side to see whose voice had filled the air, they are surprised to see the security guard that is supposed to stand at the entrance, smiling gleefully to them as he passes by. The only thing Junmyeon can do is sigh, trying to force a smile up on his face.

Now everyone knows he is dating his best friend. Well, ‘dating’.

At least they can say that the gossip team of news reporters does their job very well, even for non-celebrities.

📜

That childlike innocence is longed for when the days get too tedious, filled with paperwork and taxes to pay attention to, as well as friendships that get lost in the twists of time—or the lack of it, thereof. There, a month after her agreement with Junmyeon, she stands with him, looking at the butterflies gathering around the park they used to visit when they were kids. Greeneries blinking at them with happiness, purest of oxygen filling their lungs as they hear the chatter of people in the background, though distant. Some couples walk here and there, others are jogging as a resolution to get in shape, some kids are playing, adolescents skate or sit down to talk, and then, there’s those two people, two droplets of life that had grown in that place.

Junmyeon used to be the less playful of the two and the least talkative, albeit he was somewhat charismatic but not as runny-mouthed as she was. In their youthful days, they had grown to enjoy playing around every Saturday, more often than not grabbing something to eat on the way there and greeting Junmyeon’s parents with dust on their clothes or mud on bits and pieces of their faces. The heir of their memories is the only thing that remains alive, given that they haven’t even had time to cling to their friendship, let alone their fake relationship, their adventures exchanged for texts of apologies and time-sets to meet once again.

But they are in that park, on a Saturday, reliving the moments in which they didn’t have to worry about the future and the past, along with the present all at the same time. Being an adult is a badge no one asks to have, meant to be prideful, yet extremely uncomfortable at times. Junmyeon, however, aged beautifully and she likes to believe she did, too, their mentalities developing rather than changing, keeping their essence in personality, an ode to whom they used to be.

Unlike his usual attire, Junmyeon doesn’t have his hair sleeked back neither is he wearing a suit, exchanging it for a tank top and his hair down, sucking on a red lollipop on the way there. Just a few moments ago, he was talking rather excitedly about his new neighbor and how cool the old man was, giving him free coffee whenever he passed by the door.

“Didn’t your parents tell you not to take food from strangers?” She jokes around, mindful of the way Junmyeon’s eyes glisten with happiness. Truly, this year has been the best for him so far—the toughest times of his life took away that spark, but it had never dulled.

“Of course,” He says. “They never mentioned anything about drinking coffee offered by a nice, old man.”

“I barely get to see you anymore, but whenever we meet up again I am more convinced that you’re losing your mind.” The feeling of Junmyeon’s fingers pinching her cheek has her laughing. It has always been like this, for she wants nothing more than to feel the presence of him. “It’s true, don’t pinch my cheeks!”

“You’re saying that as if you wouldn’t accept the coffee, too.” His eyebrows quirk up at that, taking her by the wrist and pulling her with him as he starts to walk faster. “Is that not enough of a reason to break up with me? That I’m crazy?” To anyone who thinks they are truly together, like most of Junmyeon’s coworkers if not all, they would think that this is their first month of relationship. The blooming moments of love, when a couple spend most of their times clinging to each other, missing the taste of the other’s lips and the feeling of their hands roaming over their skin. Others would, but here they are—trying to get to each other’s nerves to have someone break up with the other person involved.

Sometimes she forgets about the bet…or about the fact that Junmyeon is her boyfriend, but when it comes back to life, something along the lines of competitiveness is injected in her veins. “It’s not enough of a reason.” She states in a prideful manner. “I think it is endearing.”

Looking over his shoulder, although his feet keep moving him to an unknown desired destination, he asks: “You really think it is endearing?”

“Everything about you is endearing to me, my lovely Myeon.” She flirts, faux in its approach, but it has Junmyeon groaning, haltering his steps when he finally gets to the place he had desired.

“If you really love me, you wouldn’t mind me playing around the old monkey bars we used to use.”

Widening her eyes at the sight of the crusty, old-looking yellow monkey bars, she imagines the embarrassment of seeing a full-grown man, and her friend (boyfriend, in reality), hanging from them. The stares, the giggling, the mothers judging them from afar…

“I really don’t mind.” She prompts, placing her hands over her hips only to have Junmyeon smiling.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Believe me.” The sight of Junmyeon’s muscular arms barely flexing when he holds on to the first bar has her looking around the place, watching the rest of the individuals in the park minding their own business. “Are you acting childish just to get to my nerves?”

Soon after, his legs lift up until he is hanging upside down, a big smile on his face when he says: “Definitely.” If the blush on his fluffy cheeks is anything to go by, then he is definitely feeling embarrassed, and she knows it—Junmyeon is, in most occasions, the epitome of a young man with a boring life. He wakes up early, always follows the rules and loves his job more than a lot of things, as well as the fact that he could watch the re-runs of the same show over and over again without any objection. This is something the real, non-competitive Junmyeon would not do, but Junmyeon has the habit of taking everything too seriously…and if that means making a fool of himself to win, he will do it.

“You’re going to get off the monkey bars when someone calls you out for it.”

“Are you too scared to get on the monkey bars?”

“I’m scared of falling on my ass.”

“You won’t. Come on, get up here.”

Her knuckles close by the time she wraps her hands around the bar, dangling off slightly—though the monkey bars felt exponentially smaller from how big they seemed when they were nine years old. A smile grazes her features, moving from one bar to the other before she watches Junmyeon lift his arms and correct his position, no longer staying in the upside down position that had his neck turning red. In front of her, he hung, his big smile perceptible with his happiness when he lifts his legs and wraps them around her waist, the moment cut short when a yelp escapes her.

“Remember how you pushed me off the monkey bars once and we both cried?” Crying in different senses, though, one of them weeping for the pain of landing on the grass and the other sobbing because they had just pushed their friend. The roles are easy to grasp.

“That was when I was nine years old, get over it.” She tells him, moving her hips from side to side, but her legs remain in locked in place. “You’re not really embarrassed for this?”

“I missed you…and I missed this place. I’m very embarrassed, don’t get me wrong, but I’ll take it as quality time with you.” He voices, a flutter following after his words that sets its fire from her heart to the rest of her body. “…And I also know you’ll break up with me if I embarrass you, so—”

“I won’t.”

“Really?” Junmyeon ponders, letting go of his body and bringing her down with him, the thud of his body barely audible with how close they were to the floor, her body colliding against his when she falls down on him. “I won’t break up with you, either.”

“Well, we got to think about the wedding, then.” She teases, watching Junmyeon’s confidence falter slightly, blabbering the mess that goes through his brain when she says that.

“I—No wedding, though, the contract did not say anything about a wedding—”

“Excuse me, grandma and grandpa. Can you please let me play in the monkey bars?”

The sound of such a tender voice, filled with youth and dulcetness—even with the words grandpa and grandma interlaced in the statement—has them pulling away from each other, like two teenagers that got caught making out in the middle of the park, hiding away from their parents. By the time she is up her feet, she can see the little girl in front of them, small, pea-sized face and a pretty white dress no covered in grass and mud. She can practically hear the sound of an adult screaming at the sight of the child and the laundry that calls out their name.

Junmyeon is the first one to react, an awkward grin on his face when he mutters a small: “Sure”. It only goes noticed for a while, the little girl climbing up with ease before she completely ignores them. Her best friend leans to her side, taking her by the arm to call out for her attention. “Did she just call us grandma and grandpa?”

Shuddering at the reminder, she blows a gush of air into the world. “I don’t know, dude. Kids these days are weird.”

“They are.” Junmyeon says, voice now void of any playfulness he had earlier. Fishing for some change in the pockets of her jeans, she nods her head at his friend, perhaps as a conversation starter after a dul silence.

“Let’s eat those popsicles we used to love when we were kids.”

“They’re still there?!”

“They are.”

“Then, what the hell were we doing before?”

Sometimes, she is reminded that even though they are the last thing in each other’s minds, far too entranced in their adult lives to even get to think about the other, they still have a spot connected to the other’s soul, every memory of their lives is connected with the other’s name. Junmyeon is some kind of sickness turned human that she would never escape and in certainty, she didn’t want to.

📜

Junmyeon was not always a neat-freak, but the older he got and the more he grew, the more spotless his apartment was.

Props to him, she gives, the credit is where it’s due, his apartment shines with white decorations and flowers that always bring some lively color to the worst of days, a piece of nature in an otherwise modern place. She imagines the type of people who must come visit him; coworkers that have perfect lives of their own, cars bigger than her apartment itself, and apartments in the names of suites…but when that train of thought starts and develops, seated in the comfort of Junmyeon’s black couch, she starts to wonder what type of women he has brought there. The ones she never knew about, the one-night stands or the ones he simply wanted to keep a secret.

Is Junmyeon even the type for a one-night stand? She wonders, trying her hardest not to think of Junmyeon, in one of those gorgeous suits he owns, coquettishly talking to a woman in a fitted dress, perfect like the sight of his apartment. He has always liked the intelligent, elegant women, the ones that have him in the first conversation. He likes to indulge himself with the pickiest of women, finding interest in becoming their type once the relationship grows. She has seen this, lived this, and she has been in relationships as well, all of them recognized by Junmyeon—after all, she is not good at keeping secrets—, but this is the first time it actually bothers her.

Seriously, this may be her period talking—but fuck Kim Junmyeon and his perfect…everything. Even his imperfections are not quite as unbearable as they can be.

And then, there he is, in front of her vacuuming whatever crumbs of the sandwiches they just had during their movie night, and still looking like he may belong to a modelling agency. His dark hair falls over his face, bangs covering his thick eyebrows, his puffy cheeks marking down when he presses his lips together. He is wearing an old college t-shirt he has owned for years and a pair of sweatpants, all neatly placed over his body and then, there’s the figure of her seated on his couch, surely wearing a shirt with a hole somewhere in the back and pajama pants, mismatched and naturally herself. They had grown so much, so differently, that it surprises her that they had grown together.

That is the only thought that prevents her from being salty thanks to the reminder of Junmyeon’s romantic endeavors, because that thought is most likely formed thanks to her hormones and the fact that they have been together for almost two months in a fake relationship, known to the public and surely being talked about every once in a while.

But, of course, winning this bet has to take some dirty tries from each other, and Junmyeon has not been a saint to this technique. She opens the bag of chips that Junmyeon and herself had been munching on earlier, taking a big handful before plopping it inside her mouth. Rubbing both hands together, she watches the little bits of salt falling on the floor, right above the spot Junmyeon had just cleaned.

“You!” Junmyeon exclaims, pointing the vacuum at her face and earning cheery laughter from her. “Don’t do that. Don’t be disgusting.”

The reality is…she has learned from Junmyeon, just like how he has learned from her. A few cleaning tips videos after and definitely a lot of help from him, she also keeps her apartment somewhat organized, where she can find certain things but it definitely does not look spotless and taken out of a magazine. This is not something she would have done when she was a teenager, much less now, but the action is caused to generate an effect. “If me being disgusting bothers you, I think you should break up with me.”

Putting the vacuum down and wiping down the bits of chips she had just dusted on the floor, he turns the machine off before sighing. “I’m not breaking up with you,” He says, earning a mental curse from her. “Not even when you’re acting like a pig.”

“What does it take to have you break up with me?” She asks, turning off the TV screen before she crosses her legs. “Tell me. You’ve broken up with people, what did they do wrong?”

“You can always break up with me.” The glint in his eyes is playful, something that only follows when he tells a dad joke. This is not the type of power Junmyeon should have.

“I won’t break up with you, either!”

“…This is a mess.”

“Our fake relationship? It really is.”

Sighing by the time he plops down beside her, Junmyeon’s head lulls to the side, sparing a glance to the turned-off television device before turning his gaze towards her. Something about the air switches and it definitely doesn’t come from the fact that she had just tried to annoy Junmyeon. “I don’t have a particular reason to break up with someone,” This part of him is the best friend she knows, not her fake boyfriend, definitely no one else. He is not the weatherman everyone knows, but he is the Kim Junmyeon she had watched grow with her. “But you’re trying real hard, I can’t really disregard your efforts.”

Moving towards his spot, she wraps her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder by the time she feels his fingers playing with hers. “You’ve tried hard, too.” She tells him, remembering the bad jokes that had definitely earned a laugh or two from her, accompanied by eye-rolls. “I’ve been very close to breaking up with you, too.”

“Why haven’t you?”

“I’m just used to you.” She tells him, smacking her lips together before continuing with her train of thought. “…And I’m also winning that money.”

“We could always both quit and no one wins.” Junmyeon says, pausing for a moment before he shortly chuckles at his words. “…I was expecting you to say yes so I could say I won.”

“You play so dirty sometimes.”

In between a yawn, Junmyeon retorts her comment. “So do you.”

In between soft conversation, laughter is exchanged for giggles, exclaims are left for mumbles and in the matter of minutes, she stops hearing Junmyeon’s hums for her to continue her story, an indicator that he had fallen asleep only proved when she looks at him from the corner of her eye, eyebrows joined together with his eyes tightly shut. A smile plays on her features, softening the mark on his face with her fingers before placing a small kiss on his forehead. The moment reminds her of the times they were in college, visiting the other for a day or two and sleeping on the couch together, too tired to even pay attention to their conversations. Some things never change…and maybe, they haven’t changed much from when they were younger, even when they were nine years old. From that time when they signed that stupid contract, how much had they changed?

📜

“Why is everyone at your job so weird?”

Taking a long sip of the juice she ordered, she looked over her shoulder to spare a glance to the man that had whispered in her ear, catching a glimpse of the suit-cladded man she always has by her side. Junmyeon looks like a diamond in between mud, leaving him as one of the people that gets the most stares at the table. Her coworkers are curious as to why the only person who remains single there, the youngest, has brought someone with her; a person who doesn’t look the slightest bit crazy, sporting elegant and soft eyes, childlike cheeks and the prettiest air of poise. This man that came along with her does not look like her childhood best friend, rather, he looks like her boyfriend.

And maybe, attending to one of her job’s dinner events, he will take this as a telltale sign to finish this bet.

Three months is far more than she ever thought Junmyeon would last, or heck, even longer than how much she thought she would stay in the relationship, but the more their faux connection develops, the easier it becomes to be with the other. One day, Junmyeon’s tries simply become background noise and more often than not, they don’t realize they are living in complete harmony, masking this limbo of a friendship, a fake relationship and a real one. They don’t know where they stand, three months reading more into the situation than she wants to think about. She convinces herself, though mentally, that this is just a bet.

A bet.

That’s it.

Kim Junmyeon is not her real boyfriend, just her longtime best friend.

“…Tell me about it. I have to live through this every day.” Individuals speaking rather loudly, people with bossy attitudes and overly confident personalities, falling into the concept of arrogant rather than leadership. Someone like her doesn’t fit it; too soft for a job in an office, and that is what differentiates her from the rest. “You’re not getting bored, are you?”

“Not bored, annoyed.” He says, leaning further into his seat and playing with the food on his plate. “The food is good, though.”

“I’m happy I have you here for this dinner event. Most of the time I’m alone.” Her glazed expression, out of gratefulness for having him in the most crucial of times, has him smiling out of lovingness. His hand spreads across her thigh, patting on the surface before giving her one of his infamous smiles, always warm and welcoming.

“I’ll always be wherever you are.”

The spell is broken the moment her name gets called, pulling her gaze away from Junmyeon, stopping the train of thought that wondered what exactly had she done to have someone like him in her life. Instead, a manlier tone of voice spoke to her, someone who sits across from her with his perfectly styled hair, ironed button down shirt and perfect computational skills. Oliver, whose talent shines in his every work, fighting for the same spot that she has been wishing for years.

Oliver brings his glass down on the table, showcasing a smug grin on his face when he speaks to her. Something about his dark eyes reads mischief, like all he is trying to do is play around like a cat would. Oliver is her biggest enemy in the company, only one spot left for whoever does the most, moves quicker, thinks harder. He is a good competitor, but she doesn’t want him to win. “Eventful seeing you here accompanied. Is this your new man? We know you run out of them quickly.” Somewhere at the table, a few people laugh. It is supposed to be a joke, she realizes, followed by his ‘just kidding’ statement, but deep within her she feels like there is nothing funny about this night.

“Uh, not my new man. We’ve been together for three months.” She replies, trying to keep a professional front when her potential boss is sitting somewhere at the table, but Oliver keeps poking fun, pride fruit too delicious not to taste it.

“Three months? Speak about early relationships.” Oliver says. “But maybe, it’s because I’m comparing it with my relationship with my wife. A decade and going strong.” All she manages to think about is how no one cares about the length of his relationship, but Oliver is using it as a point of comparison, putting the two of them in a pros and cons list, basically adding her as someone who is unable to keep a relationship up and going.

“I’m happy.” She tells him, a simplistic smile on her face, very fake.

“But don’t worry, your relationship will work fine if it has the same work ethic as you. Maybe with a bit of issues or perhaps, a little too…what’s the word—?”

“We never asked.” Junmyeon states, loud and clear, perhaps earning a few glares from the people at the table, but it takes a gasp out of Oliver, one that he covers with a frown soon after. Honesty is the best policy are the words Junmyeon has always lived by, and by the stoic expression on his face, he is not his happiest. Intelligent, he is, and he continues with ease. “I think, and maybe I’m wrong here, that this dinner should not revolve around the relationships of the people at the table. My girlfriend right here has been trying to start a conversation about a project she has been preparing for months,” He emphasizes, pressing his index finger against the table as an indicator. “Months, and no one pays attention to her, her good ideas, because I can tell you she is not paying attention to anything but her job. Isn’t this what you should be doing instead of shading someone’s relationship just because it has lasted less than yours?” Looking up and down at Oliver’s features, Junmyeon shakes his head. “Speak about professionalism.”

She remembers the times in which she had gone to Junmyeon’s arms after one of those dinner getaways, more often than not with tears in her eyes because she is never taken into consideration. Something inside him must have switched, wanting to change the exasperation she feels whenever she gets together with her group of coworkers. Oliver is conflicted, thinking a bit before he opens his mouth to speak, but the real owner of the company nods his head, pushing his seat forward and pressing a hand to his engorged cheek.

“He’s right.” The potential boss she desires to work with says. “What is that project that you have been thinking about?”

The rest is easy, much more when the weight of Junmyeon’s palm rests over her thigh, his thumb rubbing on the skin as she talks to her potential boss, earning a few hearty nods and smiles. It feels great to have Junmyeon there by her side and a person to hug when she gets out of the restaurant with the idea of earning that spot she had battled so much for. His arms cage her in, his lips pressing down on her cheek as he speaks about having dessert as a gift. The more she stays with him, the more she realizes this really does feel like a healthy, growing relationship.

📜

Steadily, the bet stops feeling like it even exists and that should mean that both parties have given up, but the name-dropping of ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ continues, falling into routine. The more time passes, the less they see each other and the most meaningful their getaways become, leaving her in absolute confusion about what is going on with her. The man who she would have never thought about in a romantic light becomes more and more attractive with the pass of days.

The shrilling feeling would go if only she addressed the issue, but it feels good to have Junmyeon as a boyfriend, even though it is fake to certain extent. Sweeter than he has ever been, he becomes, and though there needs to be a kiss in the relationship to seal some difference from when they were ‘just best friends’, it still feels like they are together. Like a teenager falling for her crush, the one she recently discovered, is how she would describe it, much more when Junmyeon’s pinky is interlocked with hers, the touch loose yet powerful.

Earlier in the night, they had decided to watch too many cooking videos and that had left them with the feeling they were able to come up with something delicious, though Junmyeon’s refrigerator still lacked some ingredients. Stepping out of his apartment, way nicer than hers and already established a bunch of times, she wondered why her nerves were screaming at her to hold his hand. Dopamine overtook her when she gained enough courage to simply near her hands to Junmyeon’s as he spoke about the ingredients they needed, bending her little finger slightly until it was hooked with his. His voice falters for a moment and perhaps, he is surprised, but he doesn’t say anything, tightening the hold momentarily before keeping it loose.

The conversation flows easily, like two people who just happened to fall in love, but…she thinks that is not the case. Maybe, she is alone in this and Junmyeon is still in that competitive mindset of his, she knows that sometimes she is, but most of the time she thinks of Junmyeon in another light. The wrongness of it tastes like betrayal; if she ever were to tell him these things, he would feel used, as if she had planned all of this simply to get with him—

But how was she supposed to know that she would, on the long run, fall for Junmyeon?

“Oh, shit—”

The curse that leaves his lips feels like lightning, quick and fast like the motion of his sculpted and strong body by the time he pushes them away from the aisle they were at in the grocery store, keeping themselves hidden behind the noodle section. Junmyeon’s arms wrap around her waist, face hidden in the nape of her neck as he repeatedly curses. Surely, feeling the broadness of his chest against her back should not make her breaths quicken and her heart beat at a different tempo, but it does.

“W—What are you doing?” Indeed, she remembers the pictures of Junmyeon in front of a mirror at some gym, but she never thought that he would be this strong. Maybe, this is the part where she finally stops this bet—she’ll give him money if that means stopping with the confusion that their relationship, or friendship, creates.

Junmyeon’s breath ghosts on her neck when he answers. “My parents are there…” Thus, their hands are still interlocked, kept on their side with a tight grip. “And if they see us holding hands, my mom will never let me hear the end of it. She always wanted us to date—”

It hurts to know that Junmyeon still sees this as something that should be kept hidden, locked in that contract in the wooden box he now keeps in his apartment, but instead of thinking about the weight of the unrequited crush that felt like was only developing from her side of the situation, she smiles at him over her shoulder. “Do you think that’s the reason why we signed that contract when we were kids?”

Her boyfriend, aka best friend, stares at her for the briefest second before shaking his head. “I don’t think so,” He says. “We were too young for her to actually want us to date. We were nine years old, remember?” A hum leaves her lips.

“Then, why did we do it?”

“I think I knew the only person who could stand me would be you, and vice versa.” Junmyeon concludes, taking one look towards the hallway before sighing. “Why are you asking?”

Turning around and trying not to concentrate on the people who probably will end up complaining about their public display of affection, she tightens her hold in his hand. “I don’t know. I guessed we would be a good match.” She indicates, voice lower and a bit embarrassed. “I’m happy we made that bet, because I realize now that I really did miss you. I took you for granted for so long, when you’re the only person I truly want to spend my time with.”

His fingertips stop holding her waist, pulling away slightly when he raises his eyebrows. “Do you mean it?”

“I do.”

“I—I missed you, too. No one really compares to my best friend.” Best friend, the way she had introduced Junmyeon as to everyone in the past, but for a while they have been playing boyfriend and girlfriend. Over four months of a fake relationship could potentially trigger something within her, right? “I don’t think we were as crazy as I thought when we were nine.”

His pinky interlocks with hers again and she nods. “I don’t think so, either.”

Is this even a bet anymore? She ponders, but the question she makes for herself is cut short when Junmyeon simply shrugs his shoulders. “Let’s just shop. I’ll deal with my mom if she makes us uncomfortable.”

“What a brave man we have here.” She jokes, earning a faint slap on her shoulder from Junmyeon, his cheeks tinting pink when they step away from the noodle section.

“I just want to be proud of the time I spend with you.” He confesses, words clinging to her love-stained soul.

This doesn’t feel like a bet anymore.

📜

“I bet you would never have enough balls to kiss me.”

When Junmyeon says that as they eat inside his car, the last bits of lettuce from her salad dangling from her lips, she almost chokes on her food, turning around to look at him with a surprised expression before scoffing. His face is pressed to the driver’s seat, parked in the garage of her apartment complex, enjoying the last few minutes they have left before she has to go back and sleep to go to work earlier the next morning. “Huh? Me? You are the one who isn’t brave enough to kiss me. You probably think girls have cooties.”

Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Junmyeon’s fingertips tap against the steering wheel, a smile grazing his face when he turns to look at her once again. “Then, why don’t we just kiss?” He asks, shrugging his shoulders as if it is a mere idea, something normal. It is nine at night, the cars surrounding them are empty and everything feels dull. The sound of a cockroach passing by could even make more noise than the silence in between them, her eyes inspecting his face, his rosy lips after drinking his smoothie a little bit too fast, the strawberry in them suddenly appealing to her. “We’re supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend, and we’ve been doing this for almost five months. Shouldn’t we have kissed by now?”

Crooking her knee under the weight of her hips, she turns to look at him, putting the plastic container down on the floor before sighing. “Because this is supposed to be a bet, remember?” She asks, watching as Junmyeon’s eyes harden along with the tiniest frown that appears on his face before becoming invisible. “…Not that I’m not curious, though…”

“Remember when we tried to be each other’s first kiss?” Junmyeon asks, voice filled with nostalgia and laughter.

She chuckles, too. “Yeah.” She says. “We were at school during break and we tried leaning in before Mrs. Nam came over and scolded us.”

“Mrs. Nam told my dad I was kissing you when we didn’t even kiss.”

“No way.” It is surprising to see that even when they were young, there was always something uniting them, this curiousness that kept pulling them together. Why had they forgotten? Had they done it on purpose? She doesn’t even know… “I can imagine your dad freaked out.”

“We had the sex talk after that. He said there’s no party without the party-hat and ever since then, condoms were not the same for twelve-year-old Junmyeon.” Laughter fills the air from both of them, their bodies closer as they lean into each other’s seats. She looks into his eyes, the faint lights from outside casting down on them, leaving his features mostly in shadows but his beauty still shined from within. “I wasn’t pressuring you into kissing me, really. I’m not doing it right now…but I…I think…We could try? If we don’t like it, we can finally end this bet. If we do—”

“If we do…” She trails her voice, biting down on her bottom lip before looking down at the skin of his. “If we do, shouldn’t we date…like, for real?”

“I think we’ve been dating without knowing.”

“We have.” She mumbles, closing her eyes before leaning forward, her body uncomfortably gyrated to one side in order to press his lips to hers. Her ribs ache and her foot is cramped by the time Junmyeon laughs to her face, making her open her eyes widely in case he was actually joking. “Huh, what’s going on?”

“Come here,” He says. “You look like you’re in pain.” His fingers hook on the edge of the seat, moving it back slightly to there’s space in between the steering wheel and Junmyeon, enough to fit her body. His hand helps her hook her legs his, straddling him but not yet sitting down on his lap.

“Oh shit, shit, shit, shit—”

Bewildered, Junmyeon speaks quickly. “What’s up? Is there anything wrong?”

“I can’t believe I am about to sit on your lap and kiss you.” She answers, watching Junmyeon roll his eyes before he rests his fingers on her knees. Slowly, she settles down on his thighs, wrapping her arms around his neck softly, fingers threading through the black locks that he so desperately wants to dye red. She smacks her lips together, giggling to herself when she speaks. “Are we really going to kiss?”

His cheeks lift up with his smile, nodding his head when he leans forward and finally, presses his lips down to hers. Nothing would ever compare to the comfort she feels with Junmyeon, like their ribs are connected with the other’s breaths, pressed to each other in delight. His lips are not exactly delicate, passionate and soft, loving in the way he wants to ravish her and worship her as a goddess in simply a kiss. His hands, a ship that sinks in the curves of her waist, down to her hips and up her shoulders, cradling her jaw when he wants to deepen the kiss, the taste of strawberry united in the fervor of the kiss, tongue not meant to tease the other but to show rawness, a loving soul that has been opened after years of ignoring it. Junmyeon makes her feel in a few seconds what no one has ever made her feel and it is such an incredible metaphor for what they have always been. Junmyeon has always been the only man, the one person she always comes back to. Their bond goes past simple friendship, it has always bathed in abandoned romance, innocent all along.

At some point, her back pushes against the steering wheel, his cold fingertips sneaking under her shirt by the time her nails cling to his shoulders. One of his hands is on her thigh, only pulled away when her scapula pressed down where she was leaning on, the car honking loudly and pushing their bodies away. The first thing Junmyeon does is laugh, breathing through his nose to calm himself down before looking into her eyes.

“Don’t do that ever again.” He tells her, pulling her away from the steering wheel before trailing his kisses down her neck, her back arching into him when she bites down on her bottom lip to battle her laughter.

“Imagine we’re one of those couples that appear in TV shows.” She starts. “Couple dies in a car from a heart attack after they made out against the steering wheel and the car honked.”

“That’s not funny.” He says, letting his lips ghost over her collarbones, pecking the skin with adoration.

“Why are you smiling, then?”

Junmyeon may have been the last option in her mind, but it definitely is the best one.

#suho scenarios #suho #exo scenarios #exo #kpop scenarios #writing #exo au #exo fluff #suho au #suho fluff #best friend!suho #and everything in between

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magioftheseas · 4 years

Text

Burdensome

Summary: Sometimes, Hanako gets annoyed that he's the only one of the group with secrets.

Rating: G

Warning: None, really. I guess implications to Hanako’s vague past?

Notes: I honestly wrote this just to see if I could come up with a simple enough idea that would then be made into a fairly short fic. I’m trying to get more productive in my writing, see, so sometimes I have to resort to methods like that. In fact, I was so fixated on the idea of completing this before the day was over (and I had like, two hours before it did) that I ended up missing the deadline for applying to a zine I wanted to apply to. Now THAT’S burdensome.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

The world is filled with secrets. He’s known from the beginning that there are a lot of things that are kept from others. Crushes, concerns, dreams, ambitions, motivations—the deepest aspects of a person were often the most hidden.

He knows this well, and yet—

Those two are a bit different.

“Hanako-kun, what’s up?” Yashiro would ask, and the young exorcist would also glance his way. They both had such wide, honest and open gazes. “You’ve been staring for a while.”

“I was thinking,” Hanako says, waving his hand with his usual smile. “You two are way too easygoing.”

“Coming from a spirit!” Minamoto bit back as Yashiro similarly protested.

“I have plenty of worries not in the least thanks to you!”

“That’s not what I mean,” Hanako laughed. “You two are also pretty naïve, aren’t you?”

“And what is that supposed to mean, Hanako?!”

“Yeah, Hanako-kun! What do you mean?!”

What do you think?

Irritation nips at him. His smile twists the slightest bit.

Normal people have secrets. Normal people have baggage that they wouldn’t share with the world. I’ve observed the students here enough to know that hasn’t changed over the decades. You two, on the other hand...

Open books. Both of them. Even with their torn pages.

“Never mind,” Hanako chirps. “I was just thinking.”

“I bet you were,” Minamoto huffed as Yashiro pouted.

“I swear, Hanako-kun. It wouldn’t kill you to be more honest with us sometimes. You’re way too secretive.” She does pause, however. “O-Of course, I only expect you to tell us things when you’re ready.”

“Yeah, what senpai said.”

Even with the verbal agreement, there is a flicker of aggravation in the young exorcist’s eyes. An open book. Hanako already knows what he’s thinking about. It’s obvious. Too obvious. Minamoto Kou was a simple man of simple concerns, after all. He wanted to be respected, but he wanted to protect those around him. His family, friends, Yashiro—and the other Mitsuba.

Even now, Tsukasa lingers between them like blood in the water. They’re both just too afraid to bite because matters could escalate and that wouldn’t be ideal when Yashiro’s always a factor. That—and Minamoto was kind. He and Yashiro were both kind people. There was that, too.

Kindness was often granted as a privilege. It shouldn’t have been such an easy, accessible resource.

It’s cumbersome—how much the two humans that Hanako is closest to just don’t act like normal humans.

Yashiro was tugging at Minamoto’s sleeve, and she sways him into resuming their cleaning. With a sweet and disarming smile, the matter is settled and discarded. It might not ever get brought up again, because these two aren’t the types to hold grudges.

They’re kind. They’re just very, very kind.

How infuriating.

“Is there a reason why you’re giving those two attitude all of a sudden?” Tsuchigomori asks him. “You’ve got them complaining to me about you, Honorable Seventh. And y’know—I can’t exactly reprimand you as your teacher anymore.”

“And yet, you’re reprimanding me,” Hanako pointed out, tucked between the curtains. “I assume you do want me to stop.”

“It’s just troublesome behavior,” Tsuchigomori says with an impassive shrug. “Troublesome for them, for you, for me. Rather than just bottling it up, you should just vent.”

“It is annoying,” Yako chirped up in the midst of grooming her tail. “Those brats are going to keep on whining and it’ll soon be troublesome for everyone.”

“Don’t think we asked your opinion, dumb fox,” Tsuchigomori muttered, to which she hissed back.

“It’s hard to nap peacefully when everyone is as gloomy as you!”

“It’s because,” Hanako spoke up. Immediately, Tsuchigomori turns to face him, ever attentive. “I’m frustrated.”

“With what, exactly?” Yako asked, muffled against her tail. “Don’t tell me you’ve gotten bored of them.”

“Oh no, they’re still plenty fun to mess with.” Hanako waved his hand. “However—don’t you think it’s weird? Yashiro and that boy are both so simple. They don’t really have any deep dark secrets.”

“They don’t,” Tsuchigomori confirmed. “As transparent and blatant as they come. Do you feel awkward, then? Like you don’t fit in? You’re already an apparition, Honorable Seventh.”

Even as a human, I wouldn’t have fit in with them. Even acting as a human, I had to distance myself from them.

“Keeping secrets may be natural, but it is a burden you must undertake if decided.” Tsuchigomori inhales, sighing out smoke. “Even so, don’t act out so much.”

“They’re both still bratty garbage humans,” Yako murmured, ever unimpressed. “Tasteless and tactless.”

“I’m sure you’d make tasty udon,” Hanako cheerfully remarked.

Yako snorted, but curled up into an unassuming ball all the same.

“Honorable Seventh.”

That smile on Hanako’s face remained, even when stared down by Tsuchigomori’s stern, knitted glare.

“Do those humans make you feel inferior?”

Yako’s ear twitched, but she mercifully kept any further commentary to herself.

“Maybe a little,” Hanako admitted, laughing. “I get it. I’ll apologize. I’m sorry for the trouble, sensei.”

Tsuchigomori didn’t look remotely reassured or convinced.

Haven’t you prodded a little too much already? I could still squash you like a bug.

Aha. Those thoughts sound like something Tsukasa would say.

Hanako leaves without another word.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

Yashiro speaks the second he slinks in. She’s not looking his way but her hands are fisting into her skirt.

“It’s not like I don’t understand—sometimes people have a lot more going on. I get frustrated, too, when I see Aoi able to laugh off guys confessing to her. Aoi’s really carefree. Sometimes I envy her so much that I get upset.”

Hanako blinks, tugging at his collar awkwardly.

“Yashiro...”

“I know!” she exclaims. “So don’t—don’t treat me as if I’m shallow just because I might not have as much going on as you do! I’ll have you know I have plenty going on!” She turns on him, fierce despite her tears. “I-I actually really want to have a bunch of rodents! And I want to have a huge garden! A-And not only to I want to marry a handsome boy—I also think I want kids! A-A boy and a girl! It’s too early but—who knows! Having beautiful children might be really, really fun! I don’t know—but I think about it! One time I dreamed about my own daughter making fun of me for my legs! And I woke up crying!”

She was still crying right now, in fact.

“I’m going to graduate and I still want to be friends with Aoi even though she’s inevitably going to an elite college that I could never dream of attending! I-I also want to make more friends. I-I heard that—once you get to college, people start caring a lot less about their appearances...! But that because everyone’s all matured, they’re still super attractive...!” Yashiro blubbers. “I-I’m gonna graduate, I’m gonna go to college, I’m gonna grow up, I’m gonna get my garden, my rodents, my husband, my children, and, and, and... I’m still going to visit you if I can... Because I don’t want you getting lonely. Even if Tsuchigomori-sensei teaches here forever, I—I’ll worry about you, Hanako-kun.” She sniffles. “I’ll worry...a lot. What if you completely go off the deep end without me and Kou-kun? I’m—so worried!”

“Are you saying I’ll become a villain out of loneliness?” Hanako asked, mildly offended, mildly amused. “I was lonely before I met you for a long time.”

“That might make it worse,” Yashiro mutters. “Losing your friends is awful, even if you were friendless before.”

Friendless. I wasn’t really friendless. That said. That said...

“The fact that you’re so compassionate really does irk me,” he said. “Yashiro—you’re way too kind. Please be careful.”

“Or I’ll be taken advantage of, you mean?” Yashiro’s frown deepened, her cheeks darker. “I’m not helpless, Hanako-kun. I’m not always going to need you to save me. I’ll do my best to manage on my own. As well as I can.”

“I believe you. After all, I have underestimated you in the past.”

“Hanako-kun...” Yashiro huffed and she stomped forward. Raising her hand, she furiously ruffled Hanako’s hair. “You’re so immature! Don’t act like you’re not!”

“H-Hey, Yashiro.”

She knocks off his hat so that she can ruffle him harder.

“Immature! Childish! Bratty! Meanie! Hanako-kun!”

“Y-Yashiro, cut it out!”

Yashiro finally laughs at him. Hanako glares back, but then, after a while, his expression twists.

“Sometimes, it’s so heavy I can’t move. I should be glad you can move about so freely.”

Yashiro shakes her head, smile strained but sympathetic.

“We’re friends, Hanako-kun. If you want me to shoulder the burden with you, all you have to do is ask.”

I won’t. I refuse.

But Yashiro does hug him, and it’s far too easy to fall into her embrace.

She really isn’t one to be underestimated.

“There, there,” Yashiro coos, petting his hair. “There, there. Just let Nene-nee help you.”

Hanako chortled.

“I’m half a century older than you.”

Yashiro chuckles.

“You’re still a child, Hanako-kun.”

Still a child. She really is naïve. As if all I am is a child that desperately needs reassurance and validation. I needed more than that. We both did. But, still. Still, still, still.

Hanako’s lips pressed closely together as he buried his face into her shoulder.

I guess this is still nice.

#jibaku shounen hanako kun #nene yashiro #yashiro nene #kou minamoto #HanaNene #HanaKouNene #Seventh Wonder Hanako #Yako (jshk)#tsuchigomori #Magi fics #to cope with my bad luck and being an idiot I've convinced myself of the invisible stat kp #kp stands for karma points

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nekumiko · 3 years

Text

An Unrequited Love for the Books

Fandom: Akame ga Kill

Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Rated: T

Warnings: Major Character Death, Violence

Chapter: 1/?

Word count: 2128

In between the tall bookshelves, the sound of air being sliced echoes, before several thuds swiftly follow.

Booted feet confidently walk towards the interrupter of the sweet silence, stopping in front of a green-haired man whose ridiculously long coat is pinned to the ground by two of the many fatally-sharp tools he’d barely missed.

He looks up to find a bespectacled brunette in a frilly cream-colored dress and white apron staring him down, her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised in amusement. “Ah!” he exclaims, pointing to her. “I told you to hide once someone sets the trap off!”

She giggles. “Mm-hmm, you sure did.” The girl then treads through the maze of slicers, choppers, and dicers stuck on the cement floor. “But I know what your footsteps sound like.” She reaches the free space between two knives dangerously close to the boy’s feet. She looks up and pokes his chest. “So I didn’t have to.”

“Aww, Layla-chan, that makes me blush.” His gaze on her finger raises to lock eyes with her.

As if the weight of the moment washes over her right then, Layla’s smile turns watery. “Lubba!” she whines before tackling him in a hug – eliciting a pained groan from the boy – and buries her face on his shoulder.

A soft smile overtakes Lubbock’s expression. He smooths her hair down and wraps his arms around her. “Yeah, I came back safe.”

Suddenly, Layla grips the collar of his coat tight and looks up at him. “Is that right?”

The coat slides off his shoulders. Lubbock’s eyes trail the girl’s small, warm hands snaking up his arms and then in his sleeves to reach his biceps, shoulders, underarms. Her hands then lift from his progressively-warm skin for a short moment before diving under his shirt to move up and down, left and right his torso.

He could only gulp. This body check is nothing new, but damn it, he could never get used to it.

After what seemed like hours, Layla steps back and dusts off her hands. “Okay. You’re clean.”

You try hard to keep a straight face every time, but I know… Lubbock smirks. “How can you be sure? You didn’t check the lower ha-“

“Oh, would you look at the time!” Layla spins on her heel and quickly steps over the knives to make her escape. He makes that comeback every time, and she never fails to blush at it. “It’s time for you to actually do some work around here!”

He snickers, bending down to remove the knives pinning his beloved coat. “Did she forget I’m technically her boss?”

“I can’t take a boss who gets caught in his own traps seriously,” she replies, her voice traveling among the bookshelves.

Lubbock whines childishly. “Could you at least help me out, though?”

“You’re on your own. I can’t see your strings, so I might set off the one holding that hatchet up there.”

Lubbock looks up at the deadly weapon remaining suspended right above him and laughs nervously. “So that’s what’s missing in here.”

“To think that you’d get killed not because of a mission, but because of your own traps.” A now-calm Layla pops back out of a nearby bookshelf, dramatically leaning on it and placing a hand on her forehead. “Oh, the tragedy!”

“Okay, cutie.” Lubbock chuckles as he drops the last of the knives in the pile beside him. He stands up and holds out his coat to her. “May I?”

Layla exchanges it with the neatly-folded apron she’d brought.

“How about you just help me reinstall these instead?”

“And let you stand under the ladder and look up my skirt?” Layla scoffs. “No, thanks.”

“It’s fair trade.” Lubbock grins suggestively as he ties his apron.

“What are you talking about? The only one who’d benefit from that is you again.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t feel anything when you check me.”

“Of course I do. I could feel your scrawny body.”

“Wha-? I may slack off in training, but I’m fairly muscular!” With one smooth movement, he closes their distance and gently captures her chin. “Proof? You can’t get your hands off me.”

She raises her arms to push him away, but that would mean touching his chest or shoulders. She quirks up an eyebrow upon seeing him smirk. “Lubba,” Layla says, dropping her hands back down to her sides and merely tilting her head away to break out of his hold. “Customers would be coming in soon. Do we really want them to see all these incriminating evidence of our ties to people whom society sees as dangerous?”

Lubbock laughs and fondly pokes her cheek. “Okay. I get it, boss.”

Since then, the whirring of strings from Cross Tail is the only one that resounds through the book shop. When Lubbock finally looks up at the girl, he finds her already sitting beside him on the cold floor, which he assumes is a subconscious decision.

The various ways the teenage boy could use his Imperial Arm never ceases to amaze Layla, so she takes every chance she could get to watch him tinker with it.

But behind her awed expression, Lubbock could discern hints of longing. So instead of jokingly chiding her for not returning to her post, he instead says, “Let’s go home together tonight.”

Layla startles at his voice. But as his words register, she instantly brightens up. “Okay!”

Now, Night Raid’s base lies 10 kilometers from the capital. Being a non-fighter, and therefore having lower stamina than the others, Layla dreads having to walk that far, especially after a long day of work. Until, of course, the oh-so-kind Lubbock would offer to carry her on piggyback the rest of the way. That’s what she delights in.

At the entrance, a young man carrying a Danger Beast he’d hunted stops to take a second look at them, his eyes growing as wide as dinner plates by the minute.

Confused, Lubbock raises a hand in a cautious wave. “Yo, Tatsumi.”

Tatsumi warily points to the girl still hanging off the green-haired guy’s back.

“Ah, Layla-chan, we’re here,” Lubbock softly says, thinking the girl is already asleep. But his lips almost brush her cheek when he turns to look at her.

A wide-awake Layla had been staring at Tatsumi since she’d spotted him from a distance, and so focused was she on the boy that Lubbock had to crouch down so her feet would touch the ground. Her gaze still fixed on Tatsumi, she bounds over to him and bows in greeting. “Hello, Tatsumi! I’m Layla!” She smiles and turns to the green-haired man stopping to stand beside her. “Lubba’s wife.”

Tatsumi looks at them back and forth before falling on his knees. “Master Lubba!” he cries, holding a thumbs-up. “Good job!”

Lubbock gives him a smug grin and wraps an arm around Layla’s shoulders. “We’ve been going strong for two years now, might I add.”

Suddenly, Tatsumi shoots up and points an accusing finger at Lubbock. “But why do you still try to peek on Neesan and talk perversely about girls?”

Layla gasps. “What? Do you mean… he still does that?”

“W-w-w-what are you saying, Tatsumi?” Lubbock’s voice rises in panic.

“Lubba, I…” Layla’s voice breaks. Then she covers her face and starts sobbing.

Lubbock stands behind the girl to rub her shoulders, laughing nervously. “Layla-chan, you don’t seriously believe this guy, right?” He glares at Tatsumi as he continues, “You trust me, your lifetime companion, more than a boy you just met, don’t you?”

Tatsumi splutters. “I… I didn’t mean to… I-“

“Don’t worry, Tatsumi.” A girl with flowing jet-black hair suddenly appears, with a Danger Beast even larger than Tatsumi’s catch on her back. “That’s just their cover in the Capital.”

Layla raises her face, no signs of crying in her expression at all. “Aww, Akame-chan, you’re no fun.”

Lubbock laughs. “Right? You’re really so gullible, Tatsumi.”

With a roar, Tatsumi rushes forward, barely missing Layla’s face, to grab Lubbock by the collar. The (fortunately) dead Danger Beast he’d caught lies forgotten on the ground. “You really get on my nerves sometimes!”

“Not my fault you’re so naïve!”

The front door opens to reveal a well-endowed blonde. “Oi,” she shouts, “what’s with all the noi- oh! Layla!”

“Neesan!” Layla runs towards her, arms outstretched.

The older woman squeals and meets her halfway. “I missed you so much!”

“Leone,” Akame says, “you’ve been together the other day.”

“But that was for only a short while! Lubba keeps her to himself a lot, but doesn’t even take care of her!” Leone then ruffles Layla’s hair, ruining her half-ponytail.

Layla looks up. “That’s not entirely tr—“

“It must have been lonely, huh?” Leone cuts Layla off by pressing the younger girl’s face deeper into her chest.

Tatsumi and Lubbock stop arguing to watch.

“So jealous…” Lubbock mutters.

Tatsumi does not say anything, but a blush tinges his cheeks.

Lubbock then turns to him to take hold of his collar too. “Oh, of course you’re not jealous because Neesan actually enjoys suffocating you with those boobs!”

Layla finally manages to break away from Leone and looks at the boys. “Shouldn’t we break them up?”

Leone shrugs. “Nah, let them be.” She then tugs Layla into the base. “Hurry and come inside instead! Boss arrived yesterday, so you should greet her next!”

The Boss. Layla purses her lips as she begins to get dragged along the hallways. So that explains why Lubbock had to stay an extra day in the base.

Leone suddenly slows down and matches her pace. “Hey,” she speaks softly now, “we all didn’t expect her to return yesterday. I’m sure Lubba didn’t mean to leave you alone for a while longer. You know how things work.”

“Huh? Oh no!” Layla laughs. “Come on, that doesn’t bother me at all! The longer I stay in the Capital, the more information I could gather, right? It’s just perfect that Boss is here. I could be useful right away.”

Leone nudges her shoulder. “You know you don’t have to hide it from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything, Neesan.”

Information is essential in this line of work. And this is where Layla comes in handy. Despite choosing not to be an assassin herself – and because Lubbock is strongly opposed to the idea – she works as an informant for Night Raid. Being able to stay in the capital for longer periods of time allows her to collect updates and secrets the group could use. Though it feels nice to be useful, Layla’s information would also mean more dangerous missions for everyone. For Lubbock.

Sometimes, though, even if she doesn’t bring home information enough to formulate a mission, Najenda herself would get requests from the Revolutionary Army, and those are always considered urgent.

“Layla,” Lubbock softly calls, his reflection appearing behind the brunette standing in front of the window.

Layla stops biting her thumbnail and turns around in an instant. “Lubba.” She pouts.

“You know I can’t have you traveling alone to the Capital. Take a day off from work today.”

“And you know I am not worried about that.”

Lubbock smiles and opens his arms to invite her in, and she obliges. A promise to come back home is never uttered, because no one ever knows how a mission would turn out. Instead, he always says, “I’ll try my best.” And then he kisses the top of her head.

Layla looks up to smile back, and with her usual reply of, “Please,” she’d kiss his cheek.

As Lubbock follows Bulat, Sheele, and Mine out of the base, Layla watches them until she can’t see them anymore. When she turns around, she spies brown hair peeking out of a wall.

She giggles. “Come on out, Tatsumi.”

Tatsumi steps away from his hiding spot and laughs nervously.

Layla raises an eyebrow. “So?”

“Huh?”

“You want to ask something, don’t you?”

“Ah, well… you kind of confused me just now. Are you and Lubba actually…?”

“Oh, no, no, no!” Layla waves her hands in front of her. “We’re just… um, really close friends.”

Tatsumi blinks. “I guess relationships in the Capital are really complicated.”

Oh, right. He’s not from the city. “Well, to put things simply, he basically saved my life. It just formed some sort of special attachment between us, but not in that way, okay?”

Tatsumi only frowns in thought.

“Besides…” she mutters, trailing off.

“Besides…?” Tatsumi prompts.

Layla startles, not expecting him to still be listening. “Nothing! You should go back in now, or else Akame-chan would actually kill you this time!”

At this, Tatsumi throws her a panicked thanks and rushes away.

Layla sighs and slides down the wall. “Besides, he’s already so deep in love with someone else.”

#nanowrimo 2020 #lubbock x oc #akame ga kill fanfiction #nekumiko writes #lubbock akame ga kill #this fic would hurt #the fandom is dead but here i am #i just love lubbock so much #i apparently posted this on my main blog instead and it has been two weeks before i even noticed

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recycledmovies · 5 years

Video

youtube

‘Parasite’ shows the ugliness of Koreans dealing with their hierarchical society in very high detail. Unlike many other interpretations I’ve seen, I will not deal with the details and the mise en scene, but the overall story, characters and their roles. The details are stunning, but I don’t think that’s an excuse to look away from the main story to focus on the little things. Also, there are two dimensions from a macro and meso point of view that I think are more relevant than finding hidden foreshadows or symbols.

Please note that I am Korean and know enough about Korea to point out the flaws of our society and people, including myself. I know very well that Koreans hate being criticized (just as Gitaek shows signs of anger when Mr. Park points out that he has an weird smell), but the truth is the truth and nothing will improve if we cannot see ourselves objectively. So if you’re pissed at my interpretation because you are a proud Korean, think again about what good pride will do.

The Hierarchical Society

Hierarchy has always been part of Korean culture. But as the movie shows, hierarchy is not based on traditional values anymore but overridden completely by economic status. You can see this in the scene where the young pizza box collector speaks down to the Kims. Traditionally, speaking in this manner to people who are even a year older would be considered absolutely unacceptable. This scene sets the stage as a society where economic values have become the new standard for hierarchy. In reality, money justifies everything in Korea and I’m sure it’s the same in a lot of places around the world. Basic ethics and philosophy is forgotten, or something only the naïve remembers anymore.

Although the Parks have higher economic status, a number of scenes demonstrate that in essence, they are also just human beings and have the same flaws as anyone else. Mr. Park and Yeon-gyo uses Gijeong’s underwear as prop during their role-play intercourse on the couch after criticizing the former driver for indecency and accusing him of drug abuse without any evidence whatsoever. Although the Parks are respectful towards the Kims, they still smell the difference. This is another trait of the Korean middle class. While they act like decent people in general, deep down, they still consider the Parks different. Koreans know very well that this is not a trait of the upper class, but more a trait of the middle class. We like to think that we are different from those that are of lower class in our hierarchy. We may act like we respect others, but deep down, the concept of hierarchy prevails. Even today, when two Koreans meet for the first time, questions go back and forth to subtly reveal the status in hierarchy of the two people. Sometimes this is age, sometimes social status and sometimes economic status, but we always establish the hierarchy. When a difference in status is found, the language that we use suddenly changes. The higher class can speak down and the lower class has to speak the polite version of Korean and show respect in almost every word, gesture and even posture.

Another fascinating feature of Koreans and our hierarchical society that also appears in Parasite is the fact that rather than the middle class cooperating with each other to make their lives better, individuals try to move up to the higher class by stepping on their fellow middle class people. The goal is always to make our own lives better by being better than others rather than making everything better. Choongsook demonstrates this when she finds out that Moon-gwang has been hiding her husband in the cellar. Immediately, Choongsook decides to side with the higher class family and fails to see that Moon-gwang’s family and her own would benefit from a partnership. An example in reality? Although most Koreans get outraged when owners of Korean conglomerates or their family members mistreat and deceive the public, most Koreans would do anything to get a job at Samsung, LG or Korean Air. No matter how inhumanely the upper class treats the lower classes, people will jump at any chance to join the higher class and look down on those that are considered lower once they get there, regardless of how many ethical or philosophical values they have to give up.

The dominance of competition in the Korean mentality is emphasized by the fact that both the Kims and the Parks had gone bankrupt from trying to run a franchise store of a ‘Taiwanese Castella’ chain. Even though the Kims hear that Moon-gwang’s family had gone through the same financial difficulties for the same reason, they fail to feel sympathy and only think about competing with those that can be considered their closest fellows. Sadly, another common characteristic among Koreans.

The Absence Of A Middle Class Family

The middle class is the essence of capitalism. The large portion of middle class sets the norm in most modern societies and creates a barrier for the upper class preventing upheavals from inequality. But there is not middle class character in the movie that influences the plot. It’s hard to see this as accidental and for me it was the single most impressive aspect of the plot.

I have two explanations for this absence of the majority. First is that in a strictly hierarchical society, nobody feels like the middle class. Apart from very close friends, everyone else is either in a higher class or a lower class than myself. In one on one interaction with other I’m either the upper class or the lower class. When two Koreans meet for the first time, we ask questions that can lead to answers which give clues to who is higher in the hierarchy. Usually age, social status or financial status is asked indirectly to establish the hierarchy. Once it is established, it dictates the language, gestures and even postures of the two people. Even if one person is a couple of months older than the other, the hierarchy unfolds.

Another reason I think the middle class was left out was because the majority of the audience would be middle class Koreans and Koreans are terrible at taking criticism. If the plot had a middle class family, most of the audience would related themselves to that family. And if the movie showed any criticism towards them, it would instantly become personal to the audience and Bong would have had a hard time both financially and reputation wise.

The Deranged Husband

Moon-gwang’s husband acts like a crazy person and shows unconditional respect towards Mr. Park, who doesn’t even know that Moon-gwang’s husband exists. But is this really that weird for Koreans? Most Koreans work for tycoons that brainwash their employees to show unconditional obedience while not even knowing their names. We arrive at our desks before our superiors do and leave after our superiors leave even if we have nothing to do at our desks and have to kill time watching Youtube videos. Can we really say that Moon-gwang’s husband is that much different from the average Korean? And just like Moon-gwang’s husband, the middle class does nothing about being forced to show fake respect everyday. We actually encourage it by investing years of studies to pass the company employment exams. Yes. Korean companies have exams because there are so many people trying to become employees. One of them is called SSAT. Guess what the first ‘S’ stands for?

Moon-gwang goes on further by impersonating the North Korean national news caster. The North Korean news caster is a symbol of manipulation and oppression for South Koreans. Are South Koreans really in the position to think that North Korea has extreme issues and we are free from oppression and manipulation?

The Hero

Like in reality, there are always exceptions. The exception in this movie? Gitaek. Gitaek is the only character in the movie that acts against the hierarchical system for values that are innate to humans. As a result, he is forced down into the cellar that Moon-gwang’s deranged husband once lived. This also directly reflects the Korean society where being different is unacceptable. Maybe reality is not as severe as in the movie, but going against popular sentiment brings similar consequences. I remember growing up, people who would had tanned skin were called ‘tanning jok,’ meaning ‘tanning tribe.’ During the cryptocurrency boom, people traded cryptocurrency were called ‘coin choong,’ meaning ‘coin vermin’. Such framing isolates people who show any difference from the majority, regardless of whether the difference is positive or negative. Of course, heroes, who act against the wrong when others don’t, are also often isolated by the majority. Gitaek, the hero of the lower class who couldn’t stay put when Mr. Park showed no concern for other people’s lives than that of his son, ends up in the place where a deranged man once lived. The peer pressure to act the same way that others do in Korea is so strong that they can no longer tell the difference between a deranged person and a hero but can only regard them as misfits.

Socially Acceptable Deception

Although the title ‘Parasite’ has a negative vibe, it must be noted that no character in the film ever shows signs of excessive greed or bad intentions. People might debate that the Kims were greedy, but in reality, lying and pretending is everyday life for average Koreans. It is especially considered acceptable when it’s done for profit. Hell, it’s usually considered clever and smart. You’d get a pat on the back if you were working in Korean company and you showed better performance by deceiving others. The lies can be justified further in the movie considering that the Kims were desperate in terms of finances and they had to deceive in order to survive. Giwoo shows no signs of remorse about deceiving the Parks and justifies his lies by saying that he will enter university once he gets his funds together. Things a lot worse than small lies are justified everyday in reality and this is hardly considered a problem among people that have not been educated properly in ethics or philosophy. Do it long enough, and it becomes a way of life.

When Philosophers Are Considered Failures

There are a lot of interpretations about the rock and what it symbolizes. Overall, the rock was the boundary between cleverness and wisdom. Kiwoo, who had the strongest ties to the rock, was no doubt an intelligent character. He was clever enough to deceive the Parks and actually demonstrated knowledge about teaching high school students. But his obsession over the rock implies the boundaries of his intelligence. The power of the rock is a myth and the rock came to Kiwoo with his new job as a tutor. The reason Kiwoo’s friend came over at the beginning of the movie, was to offer him a job. While doing so, he brought the rock as a gift. But as the story progresses, Kiwoo goes on to believe that the rock brought him the new job and good fortune to the whole family. Such myths are still common in Korean culture and often lead to irrational decisions though not as extreme as the case in the movie. A lot of Koreans still read interpretations about dreams everyday and visit fortune tellers before big events such as marriage, buying an apartment, moving jobs etc. The rock is the hope and last resort that Giwoo chose without any logical reasoning.

When Giwoo first meets Dahye, he captures both Dahye and Yeon-gyo’s attention by saying “I don’t care whether the answer to question 24 is right or wrong. In reality, it’s the attitude that’s important.” It’s a great motivational speech, but at the same time, it shows that Giwoo is focused more on handling situations than the basic truth behind the situations.

The study that focuses on the latent truth is philosophy. In Korea, majoring in philosophy is considered a huge failure. Even if you study philosophy in the most prestigious Seoul National University, people laugh and your degree is a mockery. Giwoo’s attachment to the rock, his short term plans and failure to tend to the truth mimics such aspect of Koreans. Without philosophy, we focus on the wrong things. We live in cramped apartments that cost close to a million U.S. dollars and buy exotic cars to show off. A lot of us focus on the top portion of Maslow’s triangle while sacrificing the bottom portions. In other words, we make our lives better by creating fundamental problems. It’s not just Giwoo.

Mr. Park’s ‘Line’

Mr. Park complains about Gitaek’s smell, but he doesn’t fire him for the fact that Gitaek doesn’t cross the ‘line’ that is so important to Mr. Park. From the moment Mr. Park mentions the ‘line’, the line becomes a big deal not only for Mr. Park, but also for the audience as this line has the potential of becoming the tipping point of a major conflict among characters. This mysterious line becomes so important that the audience forget about the basic moral values or philosophical lines of human society and only focus on trying to understand Mr. Park’s line and whether Gitaek crosses it or not. Ironically, it is Mr. Park that crosses the more important line of basic human ethics at the climax of the story. He reveals that he has no respect for human life other than that of his own family when faced with dramatic situations in reality. In spite of having two people in his garden with critical stab wounds, Mr. Park is only worried about his son who had passed out and manages to show disgust towards Moon-gwang’s husband’s smell rather than being worried about his life. Finally it is Gitaek that snaps, not Mr. Park.

“Your Plan Can’t Fail If You Have No Plan”

This is the life philosophy of Gitaek. I’ve seen reviews saying that this is the basic mentality of losers in society. But is it? How many middle class Koreans have made plans themselves that actually worked out? We show hatred towards the owners of Samsung, Hyundai and all those Jaebols, but most of the middle class try so hard to work for them and become a part of their establishments. Was that the plan so many middle class people had that worked out so well? How many Koreans you know currently work at their dream jobs? Gitaeks philosophy isn’t a sign of his inability. It’s his observation of life as a lower class citizen in a hierarchical society. When absolute powers above us make all of the decisions, your plans often get swept away and you are forced to adapt to whatever those higher class people have in store. In other words, Gitaek knows that ‘plans’ of the powerless are merely dreams in a hierarchical society.

Throughout the movie we laugh at the ridiculous plans that Giwoo makes. But in the end, he comes up with a plan to save his father that makes more sense. But how do we feel about that one? It feels closer to a dream than a plan. This is what plans of the powerless look like. Either short sighted plots or unattainable dreams.

So Who Is The Parasite?

Everyone and no one. All three families leech on another family. Moon-gwang and her husband had been leeching on the Parks while traumatizing Dasong. The Kims leeched on anyone with money. And the Parks leeched on the lower class. Despite the whole family working for the Parks, the Kims couldn’t even afford a motel when their underground apartment got flooded. Moon-gwang and her husband couldn’t afford a home either and had debt problems.

More importantly, both the Kims and the Parks scattered like cockroaches when the light switched on and people appeared. The Kims scattered from the Parks’ house when the Parks returned early from their failed camping trip. The Parks and their wealthy friends scattered when the true face of the capitalist hierarchical society appeared in their garden. The Parks had also been hiding in their dens while leeching on the lower class and accumulating wealth. But when the consequences unfold and real people of the society appear, all they can do is run.

When Koreans get tired of these conflicts among one another, we use the term ‘Hell Chosun.’ It’s a word that represents how Koreans leech and step on one another to get ahead of any and all kind of competition. Maybe this is the real parasite in our minds. It eats away at our rational minds and guides us towards irrational decisions. In the end, Mr. Park, Moon-gwang, her husband and Gijung lose their lives, Giwoo gets impaired and Gitaek has to live like an actual cockroach.

I’m sure there are other interpretations that have different views. I especially found the detail oriented explanations very interesting since by myself, I tend to focus harder on the forest rather than the trees. It would be fascinating to see how people from other cultures interpret the movie as well and whether other hierarchical societies have the same problems. Let me know what you think of my perspective and I hope I’ll soon come across another movie that I can’t resist writing about.

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mcfreakin-bxtch · 4 years

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Death

Chapter One of “Secrets, Secrets”

Pairing: OC!Pedro Pascal x OC

Warnings: Dark elements (in later chapters), explicit!

Summary: Katherine ‘Kate’ Grey starts to spiral into the supernatural world after the death of a friend and a new neighbor next door.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Okay this is purely because I got bored and wanted to try this out. I’m still working with it but this is a good start.

(First one is not my pic!)

The moon was shining over the city. Though it did not need the moon to light the way – the city lights took care of that – it still hung in the dark sky, bright and full.

It was still just as eerie and chilly. The wind whispering against skin, left over trash breezing by.

The man, Andy, was walking home, having to stay late to look after a patient. Knowing it was dangerous to walk alone on the streets, he debated on whether he should take the turn into the alleyway. It was one of the shortest ways to get to his apartment, but an uncomfortable feeling overcame him when he looked into the darkness that surrounded the area.

He didn’t have enough time to start walking the other way before he was pulled into the alley, mouth covered and slammed into the wall before he could comprehend what was happening. He only got one brief look at his attacker before he felt a deep pain in his neck. It was useless to struggle, the attacker was too strong.

The last thing Andy saw was a smirk, blood curling around it before darkness overtook him.

…

Kate gasped as she bolted up, clutching her chest. It was another restless night, and she could not remember what the dream (or dreams) were about. All’s she knew is that it terrified her. It seized her body with a tight coil, squeezing and squeezing until she felt like she couldn’t breathe… She didn’t realize her alarm was still blaring until her ears stopped ringing.

Turning the alarm off her phone, Kate groaned as she stretched. Reveling in the cracks of her bones and feeling more alert now, she checked her phones for any messages as she made her way to her bathroom.

Kate grimaced at the reflection she found staring back at her. The dark circles under her light green eyes were more prominent today and her long, strawberry-blondish hair were sticking out like a crow’s nest. Pale ivory skin, slender curves hugged beneath oversized pajamas, and looking just about half dead. Sighing at herself, she quickly settled and changed into a simple t-shirt and black sweatpants. Today was one of her days off and she had every intention of taking full advantage of this rare opportunity; staying inside and doing practically nothing all day was a good way to go.

It was raining anyway, which wasn’t a surprise at all. Summer in the city was hot, but Kate didn’t mind it. She’d rather have the heat along with the storms than the harsh cold of winter. Going into her kitchen to brew some coffee – or what little of it she had left – she grabbed her tv remote from the coffee table and turned on the tv in her small but cozy living room. Flipping through the channels, she smiled as she saw there was nothing but old reruns of shows she barely had the luxury to sit through and enjoy. It was a good start.

Wrapping herself in a small blanket on the couch, Kate sipped her coffee as her eyes stayed glued to the tv. Being a young receptionist at the nearest hospital in New York City had its perks, but there were also those cons. As a child she never really had the ambitions to become a nurse or a receptionist of any kind, but as she got older Kate started to find herself leaning towards a medical profession rather than a writers. It didn’t mean Kate ever stopped writing though, she kept all her pieces in a binder on her nightstand by her bed.

Sometimes they would be poetry, other times documentaries of sorts; what happened in the world that day, what she did, felt, etc. It made her feel better at the end of the day, made her forget the horrors she saw at the hospital, even it was for a little while.

But there were other moments where Kate found herself awake in the middle of the night, pencil in hand and nothing but scribbles and nonsense on the pages sitting in her lap. Kate would be covered in sweat, feeling as though she had just ran a marathon, hair sticking to every inch of her body it could reach, and her heart would be beating straight out of her chest. It worried her, and she would always debate on throwing them away after.

It was not always like this. Growing up, Katherine Elizabeth Grey was a very happy and free-spirited child who always received A’s and B’s in school and was quick to make friends. Her parents were always accepting and encouraging, even when she moved out from her small country – surrounded more by towering mountains than cornfields and cows – to the big city.

The nightmares and dreams, however, were a completely different story. When she was younger she wasn’t afraid of them, they were simply harmless in her naïve eyes. But when the most recurring one became more prominent in making her feel as if she had no control over her self and would leave her visibly frightened, Kate began to realize that maybe the dreams actually had a message to them that bled into her reality; not in the way that came from stress or memories, but in a way that it was completely new and a warning, or a summoning she wanted no parts of.

Never once did it ever change. It would start out in a pale, gray forest. It vaguely reminded her of home. The trees would be curled and curved, dead but somehow still thriving with life (Kate often felt that she was the one giving them life). Leaves would crunch silently under her feet on top the gravel that looked too smooth to her. No wind, no signs of life (life that Kate was familiar with at least), just nothing. There’d only be one trail through the forest, and she knew better than to tread off; everything behind her would turn to utter darkness, and she wasn’t ready to see what lurked in the shadows.

It would end with her standing in front of an arch way. Vines twirled and entwined along the loop of it, surrounding what remained of the gray light. There’s nothing but endless darkness inside.

Shuddering at the thoughts of it, Kate drew herself closer. A chill ran through the room, but she was quick to ignore it.

Her quiet and relaxing morning was suddenly shattered by a loud bang from next door. Kate frowned. Her neighbors had moved out of her apartment complex about a month ago. They were nice, but Kate loved having to deal with less people. She contemplated just tuning it out until there was another, a little louder than before.

With a huff and a string of grumbles, Kate decided to investigate. Besides, if she was to have new neighbors, she wanted to catch a good look at them. Opening her door, she peered to her left where all the commotion was coming from. There were a few small and big boxes laid out in front of the open door, not labeled but looking quite full and heavy. She was about to just step back inside her apartment when a man came out, eyes immediately finding hers.

He was quite handsome. Dark brown eyes that were immediately captivating – Kate was positive photos did not do them the justice they deserved – with wavy dark hair that ended just below his ears. His skin was a beautiful tan color, pale in some areas but still beautiful. He was wearing a black, long sleeve shirt that hugged his biceps – he wasn’t quite built but there were still muscles protruding – with simple blue jeans and plain sneakers. The smile he sent her made her knees weak and her heart flutter; she refused to let him see the effect he was having on her by just one smile.

“I apologize if I was being too loud,” he said.

His voice was rich and smooth as honey. She detected a small sign of an accent as he spoke but couldn’t place where it came from. There was also a hint of teasing in his apology, but Kate could tell it was all in good fun.

Kate cleared her throat once she realized he was still waiting for a response. “N-no you’re fine. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” she explained, suddenly shy now. “Sorry I bothered you!”

“You’re not a bother,” he called out, making her freeze mid turn. “So how do you like the city? I just moved out here for the first time so…”

Kate smiled politely at him, searching for words to say. She was too caught off guard.

“It’s not too bad,” she shrugged, leaning against the wall of her doorway. “I didn’t grow up here or anything, just moved here a few years ago actually.”

He hummed, crossing his arms. “Well maybe you could give me a tour one of these days? Show me the ropes.”

Kate felt her face flush. “Y-yeah maybe. I’m not sure I’m the best for tours but I’ll give it a shot.”

He grinned, showing perfect pearly teeth. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll be just fine. I’m Damien by the way. Rhodes.”

Damien Rhodes. It sounded odd to Kate as she played it back in her head, but she grinned back nevertheless.

“Katherine, but I go by Kate.”

“Kate,” he tasted on his tongue. She liked the way her name rolled off his tongue.

Before she could say something – Kate wasn’t sure what she was going to say after her awestruck – the ringtone of her phone started to blare from her living room.

Damien chuckled at Kate’s face; it was a mixture of daze and shock. “Well I’ll let you get that. It was nice meeting you, Kate. And, if you don’t mind me saying, I look forward to many more.”

Kate huffed out a breath with a playful smile. “Sure. We’ll see. Nice meeting you too, Damien!”

She heard him chuckle as she bounced back into her apartment, shutting the door behind her. Kate shook her head as she tried to clear her thoughts, running to her phone before it stopped ringing.

“Hello?” She gasped out.

“Hey, did you hear about Andy?”

It was one of her friends and coworkers, Abby. She was a quiet woman, dark blonde locks matched with a pair of wide hazel eyes. Kate had put in time to make her come out of her shell, and Abby had grown more comfortable and confident with herself since. She was also one of the first friends she made after moving.

“No, what happened?”

Andy was another coworker of theirs, a doctor beloved by many who knew of him. He wasn’t a bad man or anything, but Kate didn’t really pay much attention to him despite knowing of his attraction towards her. She had let him down as gently as she could and he surprisingly took it well, and they’ve been civil coworkers ever since. She had to stay late and help him with a patient – a child who was still recovering from a devasting car crash – last night, and he seemed like normal Andy to her, which she suspected is why her heart starting pounding in her chest; it felt like she was in another dream, and wondered if she would remember this moment come the next time she opened her eyes.

“He’s -.” Abby’s voice trembled.

“Abby, what happened?” Kate asked sternly.

“They found him. In an alley on the way to his apartment. Just left there, like… like he was just tossed away with the trash.”

Kate froze. Her chest tightened, short of oxygen as she tried to comprehend what she had just been told.

“No that’s not -.” Kate croaked, licking her dry lips. “I was with him last night. There’s just… do they know h-how?”

Abby let out a heavy sigh into the phone. “Well they’re kinda puzzled by it actually,” her voice was still trembling, but it seemed to calm the more she talked. “He was completely drained of blood, and there were no other signs of a struggle or any other injuries.”

Kate furrowed her brows in confusion, sitting down on the arm of her couch before her legs gave out from her.

“Drained of blood?” She said shockingly. “How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know. Listen I gotta go. I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.”

“Okay. Be careful.”

Kate stared at the screen of her phone. Dead. And she was one of the last people to see him. A new set of panic washed over her, palms growing sweaty.

Kate knew in the back of her head that there was no logical reason behind her panic; she knew she didn’t kill him and she had an alibi that would pass with cooperating witnesses and tapes.

So why did she feel like as if she did? Should she have walked home with him? Make him stay an extra hour? Make sure he was prepared for attacks?

There was nothing Kate could have done, and yet the responsibility of his death was still crushing her with its weight.

…

Kate felt dead on her feet as she trudged behind Andy, babbling away about a movie he was interested in seeing in theaters; she barely paid attention to the title of it.

“Anyways,” Andy continued mindlessly. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, okay,” Kate mumbled. “Have a good night.”

“You too!” He called back as they went their separate ways.

Both Kate and Andy travelled either by cab, bus, or feet until they could afford a decent vehicle that would actually get them from point A to B; Kate especially had the worst of luck when it came to vehicles of all kinds.

Kate didn’t mind walking though, she had done plenty of hikes with her family before moving away. This night was a night like any other, streetlamps flickering as she walked by (upon remembering this Kate started to gape), barely a soul in sight on the streets.

It took only about twenty – thirty minutes for Kate to reach her apartment. She remembered getting out her keys to unlock the door and then…

…

Nothing. Kate didn’t even remember changing let alone managing to pass out in her bed. She closed her eyes tightly with a groan, feeling the developments of an unforgiving headache.

This was too much. What was supposed to be a relaxing day off turned into one of the worst days of her life, and more were to come.

Almost as if everything was working at clockwork, big, heavy knocks banged on her door, causing Kate to jump.

“C-coming.”

Kate cursed herself as she ran her fingers through her hair. She needed to calm down. Taking a shaky inhale, Kate opened the door to find two police officers.

“Katherine Grey?” The male asked.

“Yes,” Kate croaked.

“You’re not under arrest, but we need to ask you a few questions. About one of your coworkers, Andy Crumb.”

“I heard,” Kate had to clear her throat. “I’m more than happy to answer any of your questions. Please.”

Kate opened the door wider for the officers, who offered her polite smiles as they checked out her apartment.

Kate doesn’t know how or why the feeling suddenly came to her, but she suspected that Damien was standing at his door, smirking as he watched and listened as her life started to descend into madness.

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#i'm trying #pedro pascal #oc!pedropascal x oc #pedro pascal x oc #darkoc!pedropascal x oc #original characters #original story #secrets secrets #vampires #werewolves #demons #angels #witches #magic #spells #mine #new #the supernatural #dark

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petri808 · 5 years

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Links in a Chain

The complete story for the Dragons Week 2019. Prompts in order: Kija, Shin-ah, Jae-ha, Zeno, Family Bonds, Old Gen vs new Gen, Future. ~~ breaks left in because Tumblr posts weird

AU story, Canon divergence. Each of them came from different backgrounds, but there was something that tied their lives together and, in the end, they learn how family meant much more than just by blood.

Don’t get it wrong, Kija had a good life, great family, anything he possibly could need, but he was so… lonely. Toy’s weren’t much fun if you didn’t have anyone to play with. School was miserable when all the other kids were, well, stuck up. Sometimes he wished his parents would just send him to the local public school. Whenever they passed by it, the kids in the playground looked like they were having so much fun! And then he would arrive by chauffeured car to his private school, where all the kids had their noses in the air and were more interested in one-upping each other in who had the most of, whatever was the item of that day. Kija wasn’t like them at all. Oh, he could act a bit on the spoiled side but, let’s just say, his personality was much more naïve and preferred simpler things.

Their neighborhood wasn’t much help in this regard, the other families with children around his age either attended his school or the matching girls one. Yeah…. Life for Kija were days often spent with nanny’s trying to keep him entertained. But he did have one saving grace. Mr. Mundok down the street had taken in his grandson Hak just over a year ago and they were only one year apart in age. Kija had heard his parents whispering about it at the time. Father died while serving in the military overseas… mother couldn’t handle the loss and took off leaving her son behind. That boy was sure lucky to have a grandfather to take him in.

Kija knew old mister Mundok because their families were acquainted and of course the idea that another little girl was always over at that house caught the boy’s attention too. At first Kija thought little Yona was the man’s granddaughter but turns out her father is an old business colleague. Not that young Kija cared about such details for the only thing that mattered was the blooming of hope and maybe friendship for a lonely child. And Yona was a total darling. There was just something special about her and she was turning into the little sister that Kija’s parents never gave him.

But Hak, now there was a kid that wasn’t the easiest to be around. If he wasn’t being moody or sarcastic with Kija, the boy would sometimes not talk at all preferring to tinker around with his grandfather’s martial arts stuff rather than deal with people. Mr. Mundok explained once that his grandson was still dealing with some of the things that happened and hopefully, he’d get better with people soon. By far, the best times was when Yona was visiting and the three of them hung out. That girl had a knack for getting Hak to play with them no matter if he whined, he’d still do as she asked. Yeah, the three of them was still a whole lot more fun than none and things were about to get even better…

In another section of their vast metropolis, a young boy had glued himself into the corner of a closet. For all of his short life, the shy but astute child knew nothing of warmth or affection, just the bitter darkness that was his world. The few interactions he had with adults were mostly formalities, they fed and clothed him, taught him basic language skills but that was all, he didn’t even know who he was for they only referred to him in pronouns. It was a strange life to say the least. They never harmed him, at least not physically laid a hand on him, but it was as if they didn’t really want to touch him or get too close.

The sparsely furnished room was all he really knew about the world aside from the few storybooks that gave him a fantasy view of what might exist. 23 hours a day locked in with only a bed, a lamp, a desk with a chair and a handful of toys like a small bouncy ball that he had to play with quietly or risk getting yelled at. Even at such a young age, he realized something was very odd about his circumstances, but he was too shy or scared to say anything like now as he huddled in the closet. The weird chanting and sounds coming from the other room. He could hear many adults talking… about him.

Look at his eyes, they are not normal. Evil. We have told you, he will grow up and bring anger from our Gods. We will not tolerate this blasphemy any longer, either you get rid of the spawn or you must leave our sanctity!

“Shin-ah, Shin-ah wake up…”

In a start, the young boy shrieks, scrambling over the bed and pressing himself against the wall with his eyes screwed shut. He feels the bed shifting and a warm hand coming to rest on his knee. A sweet girls voice breaking through his panicked mind…. It was so soothing…

“Shin-ah it’s okay, was it that bad dream again? You’re safe now remember, here at grandpa Mundok’s.”

Shin-ah…. That’s the name she gave me when I got here. He flashes back again to the river and tries to shake the memories out of his head. That was 3 months ago. He’d been so scared when the adults yanked him out of the closet and left him near a river with nothing more than the clothes on his back. After a day, starved and cold a passerby found him and took him to the authorities but with no way of identifying who he was, they placed him in this home for boys. That’s where I am now.

He peaked out with one eye, and sure enough the angels voice belonged to Yona. Seeing him coming around she smiles and moves her hands to take hold of his. “It’s gonna be okay Shin-ah, no one will hurt you anymore, I promise.” There was still a lingering fear but so far, she had spoken the truth. It was all so different for him to go from a lonely existence to one where the people actually talk to him and make him feel wanted. He nods his head slowly and after Yona scoots off his bed, crawls back under his blanket. “Goodnight Shin-ah!”

As much as he didn’t want to get his hopes up, the peace that little girl could always bring him began to lull him to sleep once more. Maybe… maybe it will be okay…

“Get back here kid!”

There was no way Jae-ha was gonna let them catch him and take him back to that hell hole of a home. No thank you! He truly thought that no one would believe the stories of how he was beat and starved, shackled by a long chain to the wall heater so he couldn’t escape. Freedom was what he craved for and it fueled his drive to break free.

Too bad freedom didn’t come with a meal.

It had been a week now of playing cat-and-mouse with the authorities. But as his stomach growled, he stopped to looked around and realized he had wandered onto a street of affluent homes. Thievery was not something Jae-ha wanted to resort to, but what other options did he have? All the darkened homes, quiet while their occupants slept peacefully in beds. Jae-ha scoffed, lucky bastards. These were the kinds of people that could afford to share their food, right?

Picking the simple lock was the easy part and luck have it that the back door had led straight into the kitchen! Hallelujah! It was like sun rays shining down upon him as he opened the fully stocked refrigerator!

“Shin-ah is that you raiding the fridge again?” The young boy freezes in place, slowly turning around to see another boy, slightly younger, rubbing his eyes and staring at him. “You’re not Shin-ah, what are you doing with our fridge?”

“Yoon, what’s going on down there?”

Shit! It’s an adult’s voice! Jae-ha glances at the back door. He could out run the kid, no problem and takes a step in that direction.

“Are you hungry?” The kitchen light snapping on causing Jae-ha to flinch again. He was busted, the older male was standing near the door now. Jae-ha presses himself against the counter afraid to say a word, studying the situation and looking for his way out. But again, the older gentleman asks the same question and this time Jae-ha is starting to notice the softness in the man’s tone. “Boy, I can see you must be starving. Yoon will you make him a sandwich?”

“Sure, thing grandpa!” the other child ignores the fact that there is a stranger in the room and simply goes around focused on his task.

“My name is Mundok, gramps to these boys.” He stays his ground near the door for now watching the frightened child. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Jae-ha was sure this was just a ploy to catch him so they could call the police. Since when are people so kind? He continues to watch the old man until the other child walks up and sticks the plate out to him. “Here, you should eat. It hurts when your stomach is empty, I know.” Jae-ha looks at the plate, it did look so tempting…. “Gramps isn’t lying,” Yoon cut through the young boy’s thoughts. “He ain’t my real grandpa, just the guy that took me in. There’s two other boys that live here too.”

“I can help ya boy, but you need to talk. If you ran away from home it was for a good reason, I’m sure, cause no one runs away unless they got a dang good one.” He moves away from the door and takes a seat on the opposite side of the island counter. Yoon places the plate on the counter and fixes a glass of water too. “Yoon, you should get to bed it’s late, but could you grab one of Hak’s outfits and bring it to me first, I think it would fit this young man.” Yoon nods and leaves the room on his task. Mundok chuckles, “Yoon is such a great kid,” turning to look at Jae-ha who still hasn’t moved a muscle, “his family was too poor to care for him, so he had resorted to dumpster diving. I convinced the family to let me adopt him and brought him here.”

Yoon returns a few minutes later and places the shirt, shorts, and underwear on the counter before waving and skipping back upstairs. “Tell ya what son,” the old man stands up slowly, keeping his hands resting on the counter, “I’m old and tired so I’m gonna go back to sleep. You should eat so ya ain’t starving tonight, take the clothes too and if you want,” he points to a utility room, “there’s even a shower if you wanna use it.” Standing straight now, “stay, go, the choice is up to you, I won’t stop ya if you wanna leave.” Mundok starts to walk away, still talking as he does. He points to another room, “living rooms got a couch if you’re tired,” waving without turning around, “night kid.”

Was it really possible that this old guy was for real? Jae-ha stares at the food, the clothes…. He glances around the room as tears slowly trickle down his face…

It was a little weird when he first moved in. You’d think he’d be used to living in a house full of boys, but these weren’t his relations. The old man that took him in, told him to call him gramps and think of this as his new family. Could he really do that? They were all younger than he was. The two oldest Jae-ha and Hak didn’t seem very interested in getting to know him. Shin-ah, well that boy was just eerily quiet, but Yoon at least said hello.

Zeno knew that they often wondered about him, this aloof kid, how the hell could he smile after what happened to him? To be honest, he wasn’t sure either. To the world, Zeno practically radiated sunshine but inside the nightmares still plagued with him, toying with his sanity. Mundok had sat all the kids down, including Kija and Yona, like he always did when a new child joined the household and told them. But the old man only gave them the info they needed… a lone survivor of a horrific car crash with no living relatives. That was how the 11-year-old came to live with them.

But Yoon knew the truth. The roommate heard the quiet sobbing or witnessed the sleepless nights and did his best to comfort his new friend. Both boys assumed gramps had designed it that way, pairing them up while putting Jae-ha and Shin-ah in the other room. That old man had a knack for tactical strategies and a gift for the human condition. Somehow, he just knew the young boy would provide a comforting shoulder without being laced with judgment. It came-in handy when once, after a pretty terrible nightmare Zeno confided that he felt bad for out living his other siblings or parents, that he couldn’t understand what had made him special enough to survive.

That had to be tough to live with.

“There must be a reason,” Yoon had pointed out that night, “look at how much you make people smile around you Zeno, that’s a pretty cool thing, I think. There’s so much bad stuff in this world, it needs people who can still be so happy.”

“How are you so smart for an 8-year-old?” Zeno had sat back in his bed and laughed from the young boy’s serious expression.

Yoon had just shrugged,“the library is free, so I spent a lot of time there.”

Zeno had settled under the covers at that point, “Thanks, it’s nice having someone to talk to, makes me feel less lonely.”

“Same,” the boy smiled, “good night Zeno.”

After a few months the nightmares fizzled away and while he still thought about his family, Zeno realized that he had been blessed with a new one. Three brothers had been lost, but even more gained plus a sister, and that made Zeno smile. He loved them all, even the sarcastic Hak. With Yona, it was absolutely wonderful having her around and while Kija didn’t live there, he visited so frequently it was as if he was part of this mixed family unit. Zeno had gone from being the baby of the family to the eldest sibling.

As he looked around the dining table one evening, watching everyone laughing and talking about their day, he couldn’t help but smile and believe it… Maybe there was a reason after all.

All the previous years had barely prepared them for this moment. They were better now and now it was their turn to be the strong ones. The six young men huddle around the young teenage girl as she stares at her father’s casket. Mundok places a hand upon her shoulder, “it’s gonna be okay Yona, we’ll help you get through this. I’ll make sure your father’s business and legacy continues, I promise.”

Yona could only stare forward in disbelief. Her hands hung at her sides, “But I still don’t understand w--why…. How could he hurt my dad like that when he was just trying to do the right thing?” She looks up at her best friend Hak who just stood to her side. The whites of his knuckles, the scowl and narrowed expression… her dad had treated him like a son, so his anger made sense. Yona tugged gently at his sleeve, “Hak?” He was so focused on the casket that it took a couple of pulls to gain his attention.

When he finally turns and looks, to see her riddled with pain and eyes misted over, his heart clenches tighter along with his fists. Yona didn’t deserve this, that bastard! How could he hurt his cousin like that! Her eyes crinkle at the corners causing the tears to pool in them. She’d held back the tears but there was no stopping them now and in a surprising move she launches into his chest, buries her face into the fabric and hands gripping. It takes a couple seconds to register in the young man but when it does, he wraps his arms around the girl. His anger swept away by the need to console her instead.

Each of the other five boys immediately moves in to embrace Yona until she was buried beneath a sea of arms and bodies. She was their little sister and big brothers protect little sisters. If she was in pain, they would be there for her, just like she had been for them years ago. Her sobbing continued but at a milder pace, tucked away in Hak’s arms and soothed by the rest of them. Kija, Yoon and Zeno, Shin-ah and Jae-ha all cooing and whispering their consolations.

There wasn’t a dry eye to be seen.

Mundok simply stood back and watched it unfold. He never imagined all those years ago when he’d taken the first child in, that this would be where his life would end up. It warmed his aging heart, and in that moment, he knew they truly would be okay. All of those boys with heartbreaking stories of their own had come so far…. They will be great men, he mused, no, they were already amazing young men. Bonded through adversity, they would stare down the future together in a way that was yet to be seen, but Mundok was certain, they would be victorious in wherever their paths led them to.

After a few minutes, they untangle themselves and lead Yona to the seats that were set up for the family so the funeral could commence. As she sat between them, Yoon held her hand on one side, Hak kept his arm around her from the other, and the other four sat behind like guardians. Mundok took a seat next to Hak and closed his eyes, “She’ll be okay Il, you rest in peace old friend…”

A couple of weeks later the lot of them were busy at the Il family home, “Hey gramps,” Hak points at the faded scroll painting hanging on the wall, “do you know what that’s from, even Yona had no idea about it.”

“It’s a cool painting,” adds Yoon, “it like one of those fairy tale fantasy stories or something.”

Mundok walks over, “ah the Legend of the Five Dragons, it’s an old tale that supposedly took place over two thousand years ago here in Kouka. I’m surprised you kids didn’t learn about it in history class.” Taking the painting off the wall. “Tell ya what, were almost done packing up this house, so when we get home, I’ll tell you guys the tale.”

It took them about a week to pack everything up, and six strapping young men sure made the move a lot quicker. Mundok made sure that anything of real value or sentiment was kept for Yona in the future, but he had made the difficult decision as executor to sell her family home and for her to move in with them instead. She understood, a house was just a house, but being with a family unit meant more. Mundok’s home was already bursting at the seams but in a couple of months a new room would be finished and until then she could stay in Hak’s room.

Once the final moving process was complete and they are hanging out after dinner, Mundok pulls out the scroll, laying it out on the table. “You guys ready to hear the story?” The group nods, some leaning forward, others relaxing back in their chairs. “Kija, you sure you can stay longer for this?”

“Yeah, I told them I’d be staying through dinner.”

Mundok sits back and crosses his arms, “Over two thousand years ago this place we now call Kouka was nothing more than a land filled with warring tribes consumed with taking control and ruling over the peoples. There was much bloodshed and chaos. From the heavens the Hiryuu dragon watched all of these events unfolding and it began to break his heart because he loved humans and wanted there to be peace. So, against the wishes of the other dragons he descended and took human form, even forgoing his powers to do what he could. Unfortunately, he was eventually caught and just before he was to be executed, the Hakuryuu, Seiryuu, Ryokuryuu, and Ouryuu dragons stepped in. They didn’t want to see their beloved friend die so they made deals with four warriors to take their blood and a part of their powers on condition to protect Hiryuu for all time.”

He takes a drink of water before continuing. “With the four dragon warriors at his side, Hiryuu was able to sweep through the lands and finally after many hard-won battles, united the peoples into one and Kouka was born. So, what do you guys think so far? Crazy or maybe it really happened?”

Hak scoffs, “these were probably just skilled warriors that the people called divine because they couldn’t explain how they were so good at what they did.”

“That could be true,” the old man nods, “it is often a human trait to attach such supernatural powers to those that seem inhuman.”

“Well I think it’s still cool to learn about the past,” Yoon smiles, “please continue gramps.”

Mundok grins, “I shall describe these dragons first starting with King Hiryuu. They say he had purple eyes that shone bright with kindness and a personality to match, and yet his wavy red hair was seen as a raging inferno to his enemies ready to burn them to the ground…” Suddenly the room fell silent as all head turned to young Yona.

“Whoa!” Zeno sits straight up in his chair, “you match the guy in the story Yona!”

“…Hakuryuu was physically strong with the power to crush his foes with his bare hands. But his hair was softer, like the white snows from the mountains and eyes as blue as a glacier’s ice reflecting the sky….” Now all eyes switched to Kija.

“…Seiryuu’s powers were the most dangerous of all for he could prey on people’s minds and drive them crazy. One look from his serpentine yellow eyes and the last thing they may remember is his blue hair swaying in the breeze…” By this point, the coincidences were starting to become quite eerie and Shin-ah shrank in his chair from the extra attention.

“…Ryokuryuu,” Mundok chuckles, “they say he was quite a character always sarcastic but very caring. He loved keeping his green hair up in a pony tail and legend has it his purple eyes were fond with the ladies…”

Jae-ha smirks and crosses his arms, “sound like a charmer to me.”

“…And finally, Ouryuu, the yellow dragon warrior with golden hair and a sunny disposition. He was beloved by his fellow warriors and Hiryuu for he kept their spirits up even under the harshest of times.”

Unable to take the similarities anymore, “oh, this is some crap,” Hak waves an arm at the others in a fit, “how come they get to look like some ancient warriors of heaven! Did you just make it all up?”

Yona places a hand on her friend’s shoulder, “it’s just a coincidence Hak, you don’t need to get so upset over it.”

“Yeah it’s just a story,” Yoon chimes in, “I ain’t in it either but I’m not mad. You can see five characters on the scroll too.”

But of course, the jokester of the group couldn’t stay quiet. “Awww, poor Hak. Maybe you’re the Prince who sweeps in and steals one of Hiryuu’s daughters,” Jae-ha grins and gestures at Yona. “We can call you the black dragon, since you’re always so moody.”

Mundok shifts in his seat expecting a fight to break out between the two boys. But Hak’s face switches from anger to contemplation. Bringing a hand up to rub his chin, “I kinda like that… black…. Maybe the darkness dragon,” turning and smirking at Yona, “yeah… the one who wins the Princess’s heart.” Groan erupt around the table while poor Yona is turning bright red.

“Okay, okay,” Mundok cuts in, “so basically, after uniting the kingdom, peace reigns, everyone lives happily ever after, the end.”

“Wait that’s it?” Kija questions.

“Well considering there wasn’t anything of significance to happen since then, what else is there to tell?” Mundok counters. “The rest seems even more farfetched.”

“We’re listening,” Hak retorts.

“Okay fine, they say that the warriors had lived on, that their blood would be passed down along the generations and that one day a reincarnation of Hiryuu would bring them together once more.”

“Tch,” Hak leans in, “old man what do you think this is?” Gesturing around him, “reincarnation,” he points at Yona, “four warriors,” he points at the other boys, “you think this is a farfetched?”

How many seasons have come and gone before this moment? While never forgotten, the years since the accident have become a distant memory and so many wonderful new ones have taken their place.

“Next we have our Philosophy majors…”

Zeno stood from his seat and followed behind the other students waiting in line for their diplomas. One by one their names are read as they stepped onto the stage and as his was called, shouts rang out from the stands.

“ZENO!!!! ZENO!!!!! ZENO!!!”

His brothers and sister screaming and waving with banners. Zeno chuckles when he sees gramps flashing away with a camera as he accepts his degree. He shifts the tassel over and raises the diploma case above his head. It was a proud moment for not just him but his family, all of them. For the brothers and parents, he lost, and the siblings and father he gained…

“First of us to graduate!” Jae-ha claps Zeno on the back. “How does it feel old man?”

With tears streaming down his face and a babbling wreck, “My boy!” Mundok hugs Zeno tight. “I’m so proud of you!”

Hak rolls his eyes, “Geez gramps the water works, you gonna do this every single time one of us walks the line?”

“Damn straight I am!” Mundok wipes away the tears.

Zeno smiles, “Thanks!” his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m glad I have you all here to share this moment with.”

“Last of us guys to move in, first of us to move on huh,” Jae-ha quips.

“We’ll miss you when you leave,” adds Kija.

“Nope,” Zeno hugs the diploma to his chest, “I’m a homebody, so I’m not leaving anytime soon, I’d miss you guys too much.”

“Aww, you’re such a dork Zeno,” Jae-ha rubs his head, messing up his hair.

For the next few minutes the boys joke around and chatter together sharing in some hugs, and a few more tears. Mundok hangs back with the widest grin still plastered on his face. He knew it was only a matter of time before one by one they will move on in their lives but that was okay. Yoon came starved and now look at him healthy and fit. Kija was such a lonely child and yet here he was laughing with life-long friends.

Shin-ah, sweet Shin-ah was still quiet, but he’s come so far from the emotionally bereft child he once was to one who could now be in the middle of a crowd without running away. Jae-ha, the problem child who swore to never be tied down. Mundok had a feeling he might end up being the last to leave the house. Then there was Hak and Yona and a knowing smile crosses his lips. Those two still hid their feelings, but as anyone watched them, like now, he stood with his arm around her shoulders as she leaned in to him. One day they would provide the next generation of the Son family.

Mundok thinks back to the dragon lore, wouldn’t it be crazy if it had come true? Laughter rings in his head. And why not? They were like a modern-day version, he mused.

“Hey boys,” gathering them back together, “let’s get a picture then we can head on home for a small party.”

“Whoo hoo! Food!” Shin-ah starts to sneak away.

“Oh no you don’t,” Jae-ha grabs his brother and pulls him to his side as the others bunch together in front of the camera.

“3… 2… 1…”

Within the month a new canvas painting hangs prominently next to the scroll in Mundoks living room…

#thedragonsweek2019 #complete story #au canon divergence #Akatsuki no yona #fan fiction #four dragons #kija #shin-ah #jae-ha #zeno #yoon #hak #yona #mundok #Links in a chain #petri808 #petrischronicles

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tuxxer · 5 years

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My thoughts on S5 of the magicians

Thoughts on Season five of the Magicians

So, as we finished Season four of The Magicians, we turn our thoughts on what is to come for the surviving members of the troop. Alas Quentin Coldwater joins the ranks of casualties during the war on magic. The Show treats death not as a finality, but merely as a plot device to advance a story line as needed. This time however the actor who plays Q, appears to have decided that there was no more to tell in his story and to leave the show on a personal high note.

I have decided that the show needs a new direction and felt that it was time to bring you the reader along for the discussion. Season five for all intents and purposes is a clean slate in terms of story. Normally the previous season would set up the story for the following season at some point during the episode run. From what I could tell, almost every outstanding story arc has been resolved and the only new story arc is the deposition of high king fen and the current whereabouts of Josh Hoberman.

The Twins have been cast into the seam, the director of the library has been killed in his attempts to achieve godhood, the fascist library state has fallen and hedge witches have gained a level of respectability in the eyes of classically trained Magicians. Only miscellaneous plot points remain. Fillory has been the subject of a hostile take over by the aptly named Dark Magician, Irene McAllister is still on the loose, the whereabouts of Santa, Panty sniffing pervert, Mayakovski, the chick from firefly I lost track of, along with Marina and Poppy.

Elliot Waugh

Farm boy from Iowa. Has excellent leadership and organizational abilities and very confident in his magical abilities, the kind of person that you would follow to hell and back for a martini. That is if you’re an insecure person that has issues and a serious need to be accepted into a cool kid clique for personal validation. Probably a nice empathic guy if he knows you on a personal level, but only if he is the dominant.

Has the ability to guide with out ordering and punishes by withdrawing friendship and patronage. Maintains a clique of disciples that adhere to his mindset, lives a lavish and flamboyant lifestyle and can level a scathing barrage of wit and sarcasm. Has intimacy issues arising from childhood and maintained a co-dependency with Margo.

Of course, that is Season one Elliot. What I expect to see in the up coming season is a broken version of that Elliot with flashes of greatness followed by wallowing in self pity. This is of course up to the producers and they may have ideas on their note pads and emails about the direction they want to go.

Elliot needs to go the way of Q in the books and become a teacher at Brakebills teaching what ever flavor of magic he has. He is ageing out of his past lifestyle and is in danger of being seen as an old person rather than the young edgy type he was. I am not someone that has the medical documentation to be able to diagnose Elliot, but I have known people like him. Living life like you don’t expect to make it past your thirtieth birthday and then waking up and realizing your no longer young and the phone no longer rings.

Margo Hanson

Young, Beautiful, and the patron saint of mean girls everywhere. She comes to us from the west coast and a scion of a rich family. Wearing an aggressive wardrobe that promotes her confidence in that when she is in a room, you will know. An aggressive spitfire who hides a secret identity, with unusual talents and achievements. Like Elliot, she is highly competent with great organizational skills, and unlike Elliot has no problem with pointing out your flaws.

Her command of invective is truly inspirational, her common sense shining when pulling out the pistol shocking the naïve Q and his prime directive in the nietherlands. Forming the second part of the co-dependency with Elliot, she enabled his lifestyle and validated him when perhaps she should have been making steps to evolve without the following seasons.

For season five I expect that she will complete the transition that she has started in season 4, fully and without apology. Congruent to that, I expect that at some point in the season she is going to throw down with Elliot and tell him in her usual fashion to grow a set of tits and man up. As Janet, she has shown that she can run a major company and as Margo, that she can rule a kingdom.

Mere time loops are not going to be a problem, this has come up before with Q and Julia arriving in Fillory sometime in WW2 England. We can expect that no matter the problem, this time Margo will be the one solving it, and probably much to Elliot’s discomfort.

Kady Diaz

Kady is the anti-Margo, much the same ingredients but nature won out over nurture with her. The daughter of a hedge witch, admitted into Brakebills and expelled for stealing items for Marina. Coming to terms with this, she forms an unlikely partnership with Julia and ends up in a very frightening situation with Reynard the Trickster.

Sharp and attractive and tends to be one of the more physical magicians in the group. Jock rather than cheerleader. When she is brave, she is fearless but when she is venerable, she goes introverted and runs. For Jade to shine she needs to be part of a team and up till now she has had nobody depending on her.

I expect in Season five, Kady is going to have problems integrating the hedge witches and interfacing with whom ever is running the library. Enough has been done to the hedges that I could be forgiven for thinking not all of those hedges are going to be live and let live.

Obviously, what I would like to see for her, is to return to the world of law enforcement and perhaps integrate that with the magical world. Much like the Auror’s do in the Harry Potter world. Bonus points if she takes up with the production of Dragon Porn.

Julia Wicker

What can we say about Julia? Gorgeous, educated and fashion confident. She is no Margo that uses clothing to announce her presence. Dealing with her, your dealing with a professional that is not immune to the fact that she is attractive and can’t have her head turned by mere flattery.

She has been in a race since Season one with Margo to see who transforms into the person that they are meant to. Combining talent and compassion and raw determination, she has gone from being a hedge witch, suffering huge personal losses and surviving, to ascension and becoming a goddess.

Losing Q will be a huge blow for her, the last surviving person that she knew from her old life and perhaps the man she would have eventually married. With her magical abilities now returned, she faces an uncertain future.

Like Elliot, the best place for Julia to be is going to be Brakebills as a teacher of some sort. Possibly even becoming the dean and taking Fogg’s place at the school. That mentorship day in Season one strikes me as a good landing spot for her.

Alice Quinn

Hyper-smart , studious with serious attention to detail. Pretty, but very insecure and fashion negative. With librarian looks and a body that’s a teenager’s wet dream, Alice tends to use clothing that either lets her ugly up and be invisible or clothing that draws attention to her natural charms while forgetting that this lady has you looking where she wants you to look.

For her magic has been real, and not just a tool that compliments the rest of a person’s abilities. If Magic does not present a solution, she attempts to find another way to solve a problem magically. Her worldview has been shaped by absentee parenting, a brother whose death led her on a quest to find him, only to find Q instead.

A loner with no use for team work, she has trouble integrating with other team members on a long-term basis, and as such she has had the most trouble finding a spot on the team and keeping it. Her collaboration with the library in the past season, and the casualties suffered by the hedges does not bode well for her, when it comes time to count the cost after the dead have been mourned.

For Season five, I expect her to go to pieces and crash and burn. Q was her rock in the same way that Charlie was. Magic will be her first go to, for returning Q to the mortal world. Short of being able to do that, she is going to have to make her way in the library as the only path open to her. Fun thought for bonus points, I expect her to form an unlikely pairing with Elliot

Penny

Penny has the least amount of thought allocated to one of the prime characters. Switched out from Penny40 to Penny23, he seems to be really kept around when you need a magical uber. Both variations on the character have strong loyalty vibes to those that deserve them, and has a strong moral compass.

Ever the outsider, he finally finds a home and friends when teamed up with the crew and I expect that will continue in Season five. If anything, I expect that he will suffer from severe sympathy fatigue and team up in some capacity with the library, or hopefully Kady’s hypothetical magical police.

Again, I should mention that I should say a few words about him, just I am drawing a blank as to where he goes from here.

Josh Hoberman

Josh is one of the older members of the team, a class ahead of Margo and Elliot and a contemporary of Poppy. Seemingly nice guy whose magical talent should be hospitality magic, if that’s even a thing, what his actual discipline is, I confess I never paid attention. It might be plant magic cause he seemed to have gotten the good drugs.

Called up from the bench a couple of years ago, he has been an advisor to the Fillory side of the crew and gotten steady promotions up till now. Due to an ill-advised Dalliance back in the day, Josh has a little problem with full moons. Leading to a surprising short-term solution and a steady squeeze that’s going to be complicated in season five.

But wait, there is potentially more. In the process of saving Elliot from the monster, Josh traveled back to Fillory to coordinate with the Fillorian magicians, and at some point, after Fillory was subject to a hostile take over from some individual. Leaving Margo and Elliot to arrive in Fillory 300 years in the future to find that Josh and Fen are missing.

The Fuck

Season five, I am going to use the books to align Josh’s future. Assuming Mayakovski is the invader, kicking Josh and Fen back to Earth seems reasonable and I am predicting Josh takes up residence in an Italian Palazzo with Fen. With no real idea how they got three hundred years into the future, Josh may have concluded that the dynamic duo have shuffled off their mortal coils and has at some point made sexy time with Fen, expect the fun to begin when Margo sends a what the fuck Bunny to express her dissatisfaction on Josh being AWOL.

What should come next.

This is the reason we need new blood, at best the current cast is only good for one more season before monster of the season starts to get boring, if the show is not canceled by then anyways. I had this thought in my head when I was watching mean girls. At the end of the movie, there is this brief shot of a couple of girls walking in the distance, clearly, they are the next generation mean girls.

Anchor the show around Brakebills, it has played a bit part in each successive season but should be the main part of the next generation. Wrap up lose ends for half of season five and then start introducing the new Elliot, Julia, Kady etc. Start up the mentoring, teaching positions with new and arrogant magicians that are gonna conquer the world, as the past crew explain why the class lost half of their people when magic went away.

#themagicians

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moonraccoon-exe · 6 years

Note

Consider this: FFXV x Gyakuten Saiban/Ace Attorney. Noctis inheriting Caelum and Co. from Regis, advised by long-time family friend Cor. Cor being adoptive dad to Prompto, and the whole first case where you meet Maya. Ignis and Gladiolus being Edgeworth and Gumshoe. Caligo as Prosecutor Payne. Weskham as Godot. Umbra as Missile. Just imagine that~

DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

YES

YES SO HARD OHMYGO DSAIJDJFKGDFSDKF SDOKFJ

YES OHMYGOD DEAR LORDS ABOVE THIS IS THE AU I DIDN’T KNOW I DESPERATELY NEEDED AND NOW I’M IN A…MIGHTY N E C E S S I T Y HHGNHNFGH

*THROWS TANTRUM*

I WANT THIS A U AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

Dude, yes so hard!!

Defense attorney Noctis! I mean, he already has the black spiky-on-the-back hair and the blue thematic! Besides the non-impressed sort of attitude at times, where the bouncy sidekick is all “HEY HEY LOOK AT THIS FUNNY THING :D” and he’s just “…eh.” BUT without being a too-serious too-dead-inside person. It fits so ridiculously good, dammit!

Veteran defense attorney Cor, I just- *fangasms* HNNNNNNNGGGGGG, YES! Dear Cor being a mentor to dear Noct, aah. Imagine that; the two standing at the defense’s side, Cor being quiet and just going with hinting Noct at what to do. “Did you hear that, Noct? The witness thinks he’s so smart that he didn’t notice he just let out some vital bit of info. You should press him, but be careful with how you word it.”

Hnghngh

Maya!Prompto. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

BUT IT FITS SO GOOD!? The happy cinnamon roll that’s too pure for this world and is always such a happy presence. Always smiling, being a hyperactive little ball of adorableness, enjoying of kids’ TV shows, and being the most loyal of companions to Noct. :’) The very loyal and happy sidekick, that remains badass in his own way. THIS IS A MIGHTY NECESSITY THAT I HAVE FOR THIS AU WITH THESE ROLES GODDAMMIT *punches through wall*

Everything fits so nicely, but Maya!Prompto is definitely the most accurate. Even when they’re sad it fits! You can just imagine the one frame where Maya has the head slightly down, eyes on Phoenix, and tears on the corner of her eyes, and see Prompto like that instead almost like he was made to take the role aaaaaah!

Ignis as Edgeworth and Gladio as Gumshoe COULDN’T HAVE EVER GOTTEN ANY BETTER.

Prosecutor Ignis, though, CAN YOU IMAGINE THAT. UNGH. To start with, Ignis in fancy suits is already fantastic enough and I need it. Now imagine him going “Objection!” and being all smug and confident about his stuff. I just…love this.

And it also fits really nicely, considering the entire “childhood friends” with Noct! :O AAAAAH

Gumshoe reminded me of Gladio in some ways, but there were two or three parts where I was like “this is ABSOLUTELY some sort of Gladio”. I mean, Gumshoe likes puppies (he’s super fond of Missile, it seems!), he’s this big and tough looking guy but he’s really just a giant teddy bear, always laughing, and even a little naïve at times, he likes flirting with girls at times, but he’s not rude or bad with them, he has this absolute devotion to Ignis/Edgeworth…and not to forget about that time when Gumshoe arrived to Phoenix’s office asking for a job, saying he could be useful and cook, and said his speciality is “Instant noodles”. Hahahahaha!! And later on he says something about his salary being so poor that he’s been living on instant noodles for who knows how long. ABSOLUTELY GLADIO!

Caligo would work great as Payne just for the fact that they’re both annoying AND I HATE BOTH OF THEM.

B U T

I HAVE A BETTER ROLE FOR CALIGO.

Just imagine….it’s Caligo but he takes the role of one..

Prosecutor Manfred Von Karma.

*EXPLODES*

I mean, it would be SOOOOOOOO cool considering Edgeworth Ignis! Manfred and Caligo both are men older than Miles/Ignis, both killed a figure that was senior to Miles/Ignis, both hold a huge grudge against Miles/Ignis because Miles/Ignis did something better than them or ruined them in some way and both Miles and Ignis actually physically INJURED them, which is the reason both want revenge on the younger ones and want to ruin their lives, and both are always all “lmao I am so perfect”.

Imagine Caligo taking Ignis under his wing pretending to be an ally but really he’s just waiting for the moment to ruin him…D:

*CHIMES IN THROUGH THE WALL*

ARANEA IS FRANZISKA, RIGHT?

I mean, grey-haired dominatrix with a whip that goes around smacking Noctis and everyone but who’s just doing her job and is actually amazing at it B|

(Omg, Gladio being scared of Aranea, ahahaha)

Weskham as Godot.

OhmygOD….Weskahm as Godot….hnHNGHNGNFGNH-

*SHORT CIRCUITS*

*SHARP INHALE*

I LOVED WESKHAM AS HE IS. I LOVED GODOT AS HE IS.

AND YOU JUST MADE A MIXTURE OF THE TWO!?!?!? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

DUDE, YES!! IT FITS SO AMAZINGLY WELL AAAAAAAAAAAH

The fancy guy in a fancy vest who talks fancily. I NEED THAT.

Imagine Weskham at the prosecutor’s side. He already has the clothes. And now he has a mug of coffee (or perhaps a cup of Altissian wine), and he has that smug smile and shakes the head.

Oh boi, did you see what you just did with Godot!Weskham?

You just shipped Weskham/Cor and made it very much canon, oh my~ ewe

speAKING OF cOr thOUGH

CAN WE PLEASE….NOT KILL HIM, THOUGH? ;A;

Hnhfgnhnfgmhfg, I know in some way Mia lives even if just through Maya and Pearly and in random flashes Phoenix has, but…it’s…not…the same hgnhgfngf

I mean, it would make quite a story! Your second case as an attorney, where they killed one of your dad’s best friends and who was a dear friend to you, and your mentor, and the defendant is no other but COR’S SON HIMSELF what the fahk ohmyfgidkjgfmfd, THE SCANDAL! AAAAH!

…I just- *deep breath* I don’t have the heart to kill Cor… ;w; Even less to make Prommy walk into his corpse…. ;w; and be BLAMED for it… ;w;

I DON’T HAVE THE HEART TO DO ANY OF THAT, CAN WE KILL SOMEONE ELSE AND CAN COR LIVE PWEASE

When I first read “Umbra as Missile”, and partly because I was waking up and half asleep as I read it, I was like “Missile, who the hell is Missile. OhnO, surely Missile is a dog that appears later on in Apollo Justice or DD or SoJ and I haVEN’T PLAYED ANY OF THEM, YOU’RE SPOILING MEEEEEEEEEEEE oh wait no Missi- *gaASPS* MISSILE IS THE- AHAHAHA of coooooourse! HOW CUTE! C:”

Goddamit, this is the AU that’s ENDING ME and I happilly accept this end. BOTH GAMES ARE TOO GOOD UNGH MIXING THEM IS LIKE MIXING EPIC WITH EPIC, YOU GET EPIC SQUARE.

Just- imagine that. B|

It’s Final Gyakuten Saiban Fantasy XV. Also known as Final Ace Attorney Fantasy XV. It sounds- weird now that I read it, BUT IT’S THE MOST EPIC GAME/STORY YOU WILL EVER ENCOUNTER.

Noctis Wright Caelum, rookie defense attorney in the job. He likes blue and black suits and has a spiky black hair, and usually comes up with ideas as he’s on the go. He’s usually “wright” ;D

Meet his mentor! Cor Leonis, a more experienced defense attorney and friend to Noctis’ dad, an attorney retired due to health problems (now worries, he’s fine now that he gets to rest). Cor Leonis, usually coming off as rather serious and cold, but is actually a very caring and friendly ally during trial.

His son, Prompto, a rather bouncy and slightly hyperactive young boy, Noctis’ age, passionate for photography, and with rather poor comprehension of the law, BUT incredibly useful when it comes to seeing people’s lies and contradictions.

And on the prosecution’s side, we have one Ignis Scientia! With a mysterious background, Ignis is smart, calculating, sly, dark, and he’s tagged as a genius, having started at age 19/20 and not having lost one single case up until now. And his mentor, oh, yes, the man that took him under his wing when Ignis lost his father under mysterious circumstances…

Caligo von Uldor, a FUCKING PIECE OF GARBAGE.

And he grows up next to one grey haired and slightly aggressive, super sassy Aranea, who started prosecution at age THIRTEEN because she’s a bloody genius. And cheats sometimes. Because she’s still a mercenary as a lawyer but HEY I DIDN’T MAKE THE RULES.

And let’s not forget the friendly and adorable detective Gladiolus Amicitia, a guy that may come off as tough looking at first, but is really just a noodle-obsessed pet-lover flirty adorable precious angel that just wants justice and for everyone to be happy and for those he cares about to be safe. He has absolute devotion to and admires prosecutor Ignis Scientia a lot and would do ANYTHING for him… :’3

Detective Gladio likes to hang with the dog-in-training at the police department Umbra! A NICE FLUFFEEH ADORABLE LITTLE BOY THAT WILL EAT ALL THE SAMURAI HOT DOGS IN ONE GO!

And I would talk about the mysterious prosecutor Armaugh, and maybe also about Cor’s former and apparently now dead boyfriend defense attorney Weskham, but that’s- quite a long story and I’m not sure I should write it all XD

GASPS.

Bro.

Bro…

Twins Stella & Lunafreya…

YOU KNOW FOR WHICH ROLES.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

*HEAD EXPLODES DUE TO MINDBLOW*

CAN TALCOTT BE PEARLY PLEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

Yes. Simply…simply YES to this AU… ;A;

[[There’s no more under the cut other than my own thoughts. It’s not a long answer but I’ll add a keep reading here, buddy c:]]

I recently beat the Ace Attorney trilogy for the first time just a few weeks ago and I’m still absolutely enamored and in love with it. I didn’t think it would be more than just funny criminal cases, didn’t know there was an entire plot and character building and development in there, and I had of course close to not a single idea I would fall for this series SO DEEP AND SO HARD.

And now, thinking about it mixed with the GLORIOUS FFXV that is sorta special to me…

*SOBS*I CAN’T.

THIS IS THE PERFECT CROSSOVER/AU AND I’M STILL IN THAT NECESSITY FOR IT ADH AHSDAS DHA *BAWLS*

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURGH.

Thank you so much for sharing this with me. As I was playing I was trying to think of some way to mix it with FFXV but didn’t put much brain in it. But YOU, my friend, you landed it PERFECTLY and so exquisitely. URGH. Your ask was so glorious to receive and to read through because YES to everything!!!

I’M ALL THE WAY INTO IT FOR ACE ATTORNEY AND FFXV /AND/ FOR ACE ATTORNEY X FFXV ASDKJFKSDJFDS ;A;

I was so happy to receive something AA too, ahaha. I don’t talk much about it because 99% of the people follow me due to FFXV but I’d do it gladly anytime, so I’m SUPER HAPPY that you talked about it with me. BOTH GAMES FILL ME SO MUCH OF SO MANY AND SO INTENSE FEELS HFNJGNF

Now I desperately need art for this. Godot!Weskham, Prosecutor!Ignis, Detective!Gladio…URGH. IT’S ALL TOO GOOD AND THE MENTAL IMAGES IN MY HEAD ARE BRILLIANT (ﾉД`)

GODS, thank you so much for reacing out to me with this LOVELY and wonderful ask. I’M SO INTO THIS HELL AND AU AND I’D GLADLY TALK ABOUT IT ANY DAMN TIME AGAIN KALSDJKLDSFJD

Thank you so, so, so much for dropping this INCREDIBLY LOVELY ask in! I CAN’T TELL YOU HOW EPIC IT TRULY IS, AT LEAST TO ME, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

Now I’m gonna be thinking about this FOREVER

(; ω ; )

I hope you’re having a WONDERFUL day or night, buddy! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ

#ffxv x ace attorney #coonanswers #glacian-apocalypse #fave!#OKJASDKLDSDJSD #CAN WE TALK ABOUT THIS AU PLS #IT'S GREAT AND I LOVE IT

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ardentlymodernjane-blog · 6 years

Text

Willoughby Woes

I possess what I believe is a rather unpopular opinion of the Willoughby situation, which is that his character is not only redeemable, but also could have been a good husband for Marianne. WAIT! Before you leave, allow me a moment to explain myself.

We have all had a Willoughby steal our hearts and disappear without a second word. He is funny, charming, and loved by our parents (or sometimes not), and it is expected by ourselves and those around us that the rest of our days will be spent laughing and loving by the fire after taking his name. Then some mysterious event takes place, and this bright future with a broad-shouldered gentleman caller is gone in a puff of smoke. Jane labeled it mysterious and heartbreaking, modern day young adults refer to it as ghosting; whatever the label, your heart aches for months afterwards.

I am NOT declaring Marianne and Willoughby to be soul mates. I do not believe in soul mates – there are too many people on this planet to believe that there is one person we will be happy with for the rest of our lives, and no one else will do for us. Living with and loving someone for the rest of your life takes time and hard work, and there are people who love each other for decades, and then just don’t anymore. Was that their soul mate but they couldn’t work through some things? Or was that not their soul mate, and their soul mate is coming along, but may never show up? What about the fact that who you are at 23 is completely different from who you are at 41? I could continue, but the main takeaway from this should be that Marianne and Willoughby are not soul mates; neither are Marianne and Colonel Brandon. Different situations and actions would have produced different results. But I do believe in someone being the love of your life – this time around. A human being finds another human being that they love every day until they die, and these two people work together consistently on all problems from barrenness and depression to taking the trash out. But that one human being could have the same result with two possible people. Marianne and Willoughby getting married would have produced a very different life for Marianne (and a very different version of Marianne), one that I think would have made her just as happy as she will be with Colonel Brandon.

I would also like to make clear that I do believe Willoughby was a cad. He had sexual relations with an innocent, naïve girl who didn’t understand exactly what that meant, and then did jack sh*t when he heard she was pregnant. He was completely out to have fun. But there is an underlying story in Sense & Sensibility, a theme which has become very popular in chick flicks of the modern world: the reformed bad boy. The idea (however implausible) that the right woman will turn a man from Darth Maul into Obi-Wan Kenobi is tempting, featured in countless TV shows and films. And like these modern replications of the idea, Willoughby is reformed when he falls for Marianne – he declares it himself! Despite starting out simply hoping for some fun, he develops real feelings for her, and had every intention of proposing before his circumstances changed so drastically.

Willoughby made some huge mistakes; he took advantage of a woman and was labeled the cad, and therefore was doomed by Jane to live the rest of his life with a wife he hated, who did not love him, because he needed to financial stability. Yes, a wonderful hero would go back to the girl he had wronged and take care of her and her child. And yet, Jane does not deal in perfect people – Pride & Prejudice is all about good people who have character flaws that they recognize through the journey of the novel and make amends for in the end. They are rewarded with a happy marriage. Now certainly, abandoning a pregnant girl isn’t just a character flaw. But if Willoughby hadn’t been disowned by his aunt, he would have married Marianne, and my theory is that Marianne would have been just as happy. You meet those people in life who were lucky enough to not get kicked too hard, who are vaguely annoying but so loveable with their rose-colored view of the world. Marianne and Willoughby would have spent the rest of their lives laughing a little too loudly and dancing like crazy. The Marianne we see at the end of the book is a more worldly Marianne, more adult, who has been kicked in the gut by life. But I believe if M and W had gotten married and grown up together, they would have been happy.

So what about us? The Mariannes and Elinors who are still navigating the modern dance halls, hoping the guy smiling at us is going to see it through? Or the ones who have just had their heart broken by a millennial Willoughby? The important thing is to have a sister by your side. It doesn’t have to be a biological sister, or even a woman, but someone who will hand you a handkerchief and a comforting cup of tea when you’re sobbing your eyes out over ex-gentleman caller #17. The other important thing to remember is that while she was devastated during the Willoughby affair, and had to grow up a little because of it, Marianne never lost who she was. Her strength, her independence, and her loyalty never changed; and because of that, she was able to pick herself back up and continue, stronger and wiser. Continue to be your true self, no matter how much that self is emotionally hurt, because that is the self that will continue to get you through the hurting.

Finally, be aware that Jane provides us with wonderful guidelines, but sometimes a Willoughby goes back and makes amends. Sometimes a Willoughby DOES propose to Marianne, and they live happily ever after. Sometimes a Colonel Brandon comes along after a heartbreaking Willoughby, but he’s younger instead of older, and better than you ever imagined. If you need a sister, or a cad, or a gentleman, pick up Jane; she’ll always be there.

#ardently #modernjane #sense and sensibility #janeite blog #john willoughby #marianne #obi wan kenobi #modern love #relationships #sisters

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thatwriterrosefics-moved · 3 years

Text

Nike’s heart aches as she sees this young woman it’s easy to recognize herself of course they share a face. What would be harder for someone who didn’t know her was knowing the look, the naïve look and the twinkle in her eye. It makes the older versions heart ache to see just how bright the younger lights up.

“You’re- you’re me! You’re me but you’re older.” The younger observes looking the her older self over as she wracks her brain for questions. Her heart is pounding and she looks back to her elder with a grin. “I have so many questions- can you answer them? Is that allowed? Oh stars I’m gonna ask them anyways.”

The older version lets out a light laugh and nods. Of course she would be curious and want to know what their lives had been like. She wasn’t sure if the younger would like the answers she gave though.

The younger giggles at the thought so excited to know her future. “So I met someone last year. He’s older but so romantic and very kind he promised as soon as we’re ready next year-”

“That he’ll whisk you away from Coruscant and give you a beautiful life on Naboo?” The older interrupts with a sad smile. Looking back she didn’t realize just how wrong that was. She was so excited to lead a romantic life with this handsome older man she would abandon her family and all the things she wanted. “You marry him as soon as you’re able you’re married on your birthday morning and are in bed that night in Naboo.” She still hated her birthday because of it, never wanted to celebrate the day.

The younger grins, clapping her hands excitedly. “Oh and I’m sure it was so romantic! How long have you been married? How many children do we have? I want at least 5 or 6 children and so does he.”

The older reaches out and cups a gentle hand on her younger self’s cheek nearly tearing up when she realizes the younger doesn’t flinch. How many years did it take her to stop flinching? Oh if only she could save this naïve lovestruck teenager. “It doesn’t go quiet as you planned I’m afraid, my love. You are married for a few years but some things happen that make you leave.”

The younger becomes distressed, “B-but we have all these plans together and what about our children? All the sons he says I’ll give him. Please tell me that I get to be a mother it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

The older shushes her younger self soothingly before she pulls the girl into a hug. “You can’t have children but it’s not why things go bad don’t ever blame yourself, alright?” She rubs the girls back as she tries not to cry herself. “Life will surprise you though you’re going to get everything you want just with someone else.”

As the younger sniffles she looks up at her older self. She seems so kind and wise, how does she get to grow up and be like this woman? “Can you tell me about him- and our children if we have them.”

“ Your husband... he sweeps you off your feet in quite the literal sense. He’s very handsome and so brave more importantly he treats you exactly how you deserve to be treated- with respect and care. He loves to see you smile and your children? He loves them to the ends of the world it’s why you fall so madly in love with him.” Nike assures with a kind smile. “Oh and those children of yours? You have two beautiful daughters and more sons than you could ever keep track of.”

The older takes in a breath before she wipes away the last of her younger self’s tears. “I know that it’s going to be hard sometimes and you’ll blame yourself but please just be patient. One day you’re going to wake up in a bed- a safe warm bed with all your children squished between you so far from your husband you can only reach out and hold hands. Your parents will visit and you get to do everything you dreamed of I promise. Life gets hard but it gets so much better alright just... just be safe and make sure to remember what I told you, alright?”

Nike knows she can’t stop anything that happens and it hurts to send her younger self off to go live a less than happy life. Still she can’t spend too long dwelling on it. That life she had promised her younger self was waiting for her back at home.

#implied abuse tw #implied grooming tw

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dpargyle · 6 years

Text

Thoughts on the Last Jedi

OMGs so many spoilers!!!!! Also it gets a lil NSFW and super dweeby at the end…. (proceed at your own risk)

So I just got back from The Last Jedi and -

I have so many EMOTIONS!!!

Lemme at least attempt to go through this chronologically…

“The First Order reigns.” I got goosebumps from that opening sentence of the opening crawl. It was like, yup – pretty much the feeling in the real world rn too hahahaha *sobs*

That whole opening space battle scene – ahhhh!!!! I loved so much about it – I especially loved how quickly Rian Johnson (the writer/director) was able to establish Paige Tico’s character – make the audience care about her and then boom she’s gone and I knew she was a goner as soon as they introduced her at Celebration but still it hit me right in the feels – like damn the sacrifices the Resistance is forced to make

At long last we got back to Rey and Luke on Ahch-To and I love how he doesn’t even say anything – he just flips the lightsaber over his shoulder like “thanks, I hate this!”

And then Rey follows him around like an adorable lost puppy for days and days and days and I was like awwww!

Speaking of which – I really liked how Daisy Ridley played Rey this time around – not so naïve (although I loved happy go-lucky, plucky Rey from the Force Awakens) – but she’s grown now – she’s seen some shit – and so as a result her character is a little more galaxy-wise and wary – which I think fits – though we see some of that lighter Rey sprinkled throughout the narrative – the “reach out” moment which I thought was pretty damn hilarious…

As for the new characters – oh my – how I love Rose. She’s this fan girl who’s suddenly grieving and then one of her heroes shows up and she’s all ready to fangirl but then he severely disappoints her but she doesn’t even hesitate – she stuns him – like yeah, she’s excitable and incredibly sad but she’s still gonna do her damn job and I loved it. And we see her grow and mature throughout the film and learn to trust Finn again – and the end where she saves him and then she says “we can’t fight what we hate – we have to save what we love” and then she snogs him and I was like HELLLS YES! What a bad. Ass. Character.. I love her. #protec I already liked the sorts of things Kelly Marie Tran was saying from the press tour – but she brought this character to life and now I have EMOTIONS.

So yeah, I’m totally on the FinnRose ship now since Disney are cowards and Stormpilot is never gonna be a thing ☹ (though I did appreciate when Finn and Poe finally meet up again Finn literally squirts on Finn lmao (I’m sorry I have a dirty mind!) so I think that’s the closest we’re ever gonna get hahaha)

I loved how Canto Bight really illustrated this incredible gap between rich and poor – so similar in our own world right now – and Rose’s rage at this injustice – “I just wanna punch straight through this beautiful, ugly terrible town.” (First off – what a line. Second off that sounds like something Leslie Knope might say hahahaha) Rose was given some of the best and most poignant lines.

Also – the focus on the little children slaves – fuck, that was crushing. And the Fathiers – how their coats were bleeding from the whips and the lashes – damn all so heartbreaking. I’ll get back to the little slave boy at the end – as I think there’s so much going on in that final scene.

Back to the Force montage on Ahch-To with Luke & Rey – damn I love how Johnson elaborated on the Force – showing us what Rey was seeing – such beauty. Such resonance. Kinda reminded me of those BBC nature documentaries (The Planet, etc…) – the beauty and savagery of nature – personified in the Force – ughh so frikken powerful.

As for Luke – his scene with Artoo was the best. Artoo shows him young Leia pleading for Obi-Wan and Luke’s all like “you’re not playing fair” and Artoo basically gives him this shit eating grin and oh gods so good – this is why Artoo continues to be my fave. Character. He is the best. Doesn’t even have to say anything. Like yes! Damn! Ughhh!

Then Luke’s scene with Yoda’s force ghost!!! As soon as you saw that little profile and the ears I was internally going like !@@!#$%&^%!@#$%%@$ and then he just blows up the tree like HaShem in Exodus and you’re like lmao – and he literally tells Luke “Rey has all the knowledge from the Jedi Texts with her already” – then if you fast forward all the way to the very end of the movie when everyone is on the Falcon – Finn is rummaging through a bunch of drawers and if you blinked you missed them – but the texts were in there! Rey up and stole them hahaha – amazing! And Yoda knew too! Ugghhhhhhh I love these characters!

Alright. Now on to the really big stuff.

Holy crap. Snoke is dead. HAHAHAHA! Ren turned out to be the BIG BAD of this trilogy. I guess I shoulda seen that coming, but tbh I was absolutely gut-wrenched. I thought he and Rey would join forces and become gray force users and have babies and it would be beautiful, but it was not to be. When they were fighting Snoke’s red guards I thought that would happen but then Ren is so full of hate and greed he can’t see anything else – he’s dead inside. He can’t see a path to redemption. He doesn’t even ask for forgiveness.

Yes, I know – for the last several months I have been a Reylo. I really wanted them to get together. And when they were force-touching hands I really thought they would – but then this asshole goes and

Decides to tell Rey she’s nothing???? Like what? No. No, no, no. You don’t tell someone they’re trash but they mean everything to you. Like I sorta get what he’s trying to say but he’s being super manipulative. Is that what gaslighting is?

Like fine you murdered Han Solo. You blew up Akbar. AKBAR! But you will not insult Rey. No. That is crossing a line. Maybe he wasn’t even consciously doing it – maybe he thought he was praising her – but really he was just trying to convince her she’s nothing without him. He allowed his rage to rule him.

I’m sorry people who still might see them together – but I no longer do. Rey doesn’t need Kylo’s bullshit. She gave him a chance at redemption and he denied her. She realized she can’t save him – and I think that’s an incredibly valuable lesson to teach young girls.

I’m sorry if that offends some people on the Tumblrs – and you’re totally entitled to your opinion – I’m not gonna be a dick about it (it’s not my way) – but respect that I’ve changed my mind.

As a side note – I think it’s kind of hilarious how whoever the hell Snoke was and who Rey’s parents were don’t even matter! All those theories! All the mental anguish we put into discovering how everything connects to older characters! But it doesn’t. Ha! We deserve it!

Luke made a mistake trying to take out Kylo, no doubt, but Kylo has to be responsible for his own actions. I think that’s what Johnson was trying to say – sure he might have been neglected, abused, and then manipulated by Snoke – but ultimately he had the power to choose – and like so many young men in this day and age – Ben has chosen hate. Rey has chosen hope.

And I choose Rey’s path.

The darkness might reign right now. But the light is strong. And it can burn in us all, if only we allow it to ignite within us.

Sure, the Jedi have a legacy of failure. But as Yoda said, “Failure is the best teacher.” Don’t I know it. Failure is painful. Failure sucks. But that doesn’t mean we burn it all down. We can rebuild. We can grow. We can make new the old.

The Jedi can live again.

And that gives me great hope, kids.

Great Hope.

And now, Luke and Leia.

I….

I can’t even…

This woulda been emotional enough with Carrie Fisher still with us – but now that she’s gone…

“Nobody’s really gone.” – Luke. That last conversation – just the two of them – Oh man, I’m not a crier but sometimes I wish I was. So powerful. So important. So cathartic. Funny. Sad. Bittersweet reconciliation. Imperfect people, imperfect goodbye – but a perfect scene.

I feel like we all needed that. Or I did anyway.

And then….Luke dies.

Luke dies?

Luke Skywalker. Is gone.

What? No! How?

Feels like I’ve known him my whole life – cuz I have. Like he’s a real person and the myth he became all at once. Who was one of the ones who taught us the power of forgiveness. To let go of hate.

And now he’s gone?

I know, I know, I sound ridiculous – he’s not a real person and it’s just a movie and you’re probably all rolling your eyes and saying “bundles you’re being such a dweeb rn” but damn it! stories matter. Characters matter. Words matter. Words have power.

Star Wars is a great myth of our time. The saga of the Skywalkers is our Arthuriana. From Anakin to Rey – this is our Trojan War. Luke is our Achilles.

And now he’s gone? When he disappeared watching those two setting suns (gods what great cinematography) it was like a gut punch. Like fuuuuuuuuuuuuck what now?

How do we go on?

I think Johnson gives us an answer – look to the past – look to the future – to the balance – to the cycle –

Which brings me to that final poignant scene -

The slave boy on Canto Bight. As with Anakin Skywalker all those years ago – he’s a force user (pulling that broom to his hand ala Mickey Mouse in Fantasia) and he’s staring up at the stars and dreaming….he embodies, with his phoenix-inspired Rebel insignia ring – the rebirth of hope – of the rebellion – of the resistance – of the beautiful broken dream that were the Jedi – he is Johnson. He is all of us. From Anakin all the way to this slave boy. And the story repeats. The cycle continues.

The myth lives on. Hope lives on. And if the myth lives on, well then so does Luke – “nobody’s really gone…”

I love Star Wars.

I love stories.

#star wars #sw #the last jedi #tlj #last jedi #rey #luke #luke skywalker #leia #carrie fisher #anakin #myths #mythology #rian johnson #luminous beings & bad feelings

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ask-the-german-commander · 7 years

Text

Haunted by a previous fate

Alright, I’ve finally written that angst piece I promised you all. At least I think it’s angst. Anyway, it’s a thought I’ve been wanting to share. I’ve put a little GerFra in there but that’s not the focus of the story.

Word count: 3109, a bit longer than expected.

Enjoy!

“Ludwig.” Francis walked over to me after the meting. He invited me for some coffee as usual. I accepted. It was always very delightful to have some coffee with him after such long, tiresome meetings. These meetings, yes, such chaotic and unstructured things, always drained me of all my energy. I cannot stand things that aren’t organized well. And of course since nobody else will, I end up being the one who tries to give the entire mess some form of structure, because that’s the German I am. However, it costs a lot of effort and I swear some day my voice will leave me for good if I have to continue screaming. Don’t even get me started about the patience it takes to deal with this bunch. Even if I told Francis and Arthur a million times to stop fighting, they never keep it. Of course both of them apologize to me afterwards. Alfred is loud and full of unrealistic ideas, but at least he doesn’t start a fight with others, even tho he was very close to get in a fight with Ivan more than once. I keep worrying about Feliciano who made falling asleep a habit during these meetings. I wonder if he never gets enough sleep or if he’s just always tired (the same goes for his brother). I keep waking him during the meetings, because I think it’s important that he knows what’s going on. But a few minutes later he already got distracted. As per usual, I brief him about the important things after the meeting is done. I can’t just leave him clueless, that would be very irresponsible. Amongst all this chaos, I am very grateful for Kiku’s calming presence and also Matthew’s. I must admit, sometimes I keep forgetting about him, which makes me feel bad. But I’m glad he’s there, at least it gives me someone normal to talk to. Having said this, it’s always such a relief when we end the meeting, but I never have a satisfying feeling. We never get everything done that’s on the agenda.

Francis and I went to our usual place and I treated him on his favourite kind of coffee. Just like every time, we sat down at a table near the window. I loosened my tie and my shirt a bit. Having the upper button closed, it always felt as if I was suffocating but I needed to look presentable, right? Francis observed me as I did so and had a little smirk on his face. Ah yes, he always liked it when it looked like I was undressing myself. What a silly man but who could blame him. If he’d do the same I couldn’t look away either. “Mon cher, how do you manage to look handsome in everything you do?” He asked teasingly before he took a sip of his coffee. I was silent for a second but had to smile as I grabbed my cup of coffee. “You tell me.” I said softly and took a sip. Hm, this was excellent coffee and just what I needed after such a day. Francis smiled charming at me after I had made my comment. His smile, it was one of the greatest things I’ve seen honestly. It was so sweet and charming and I loved seeing it on him. But of course I didn’t admit that on that day. No we had something more urgent to talk about. Or, well, Francis asked about it, because his curiosity knows no limits.

“Say Ludwig, you’re such a strong, and handsome, man. You’ve been through so much in your life that it seems you aren’t afraid of anything. You face all the complications and crises of the world as if it’s the most normal thing to you. You don’t lose focus or panic, like, I regret to admit, me. How do you do that? Do you even fear anything?” I was quiet. I had not expected this at all, it really came out of the blue. It was true, that I didn’t panic, because I am disciplined enough to keep my cool in a crisis. Panic just makes you inefficient and leads to nothing. But of course I worry a lot, way too much actually. Feliciano warned me not to worry too much but it hasn’t worked so far. I was sipping my coffee as I thought about Francis’ question. Honestly I had no idea how I should reply to this. But that probably wouldn’t satisfy Francis. Then I started to think back on what had caused me to be like this.

I know that I am very young for a nation, barely 200 years old. But yet I have matured much faster than the rest. Gilbert once told me that it has to do with the fact that I had to grow up fast. Since the day I became a nation in 1871 I had no time for playing around. It was serious from the start. From that day I could immediately feel my body getting stronger but I wasn’t growing yet. At first I wasn’t too concerned about that. But then I heard from my siblings what had happened to my predecessor, Holy Rome. They told me I reminded them of him a lot, not just in my appearance but also in my character, I suppose. I wasn’t sure how I should feel about the rest of my siblings. They were all quite sceptical at first when I became a nation. Obviously most weren’t very fond of the unity I had brought upon them. Many were happy being autonomous kingdoms and states, so they really weren’t waiting for some sort of unity, which would take that away. Luckily not all my siblings were sceptical. But still those first few years were a hard time for me. I tried so hard to resolve fights between them and strengthen my personal relationship with them, but the attitude of some just made it impossible. For example Bavaria wanted to have nothing to do with me at first and Saxony didn’t exactly like me either. I tried not to take it too personal, as Gilbert told me, but I couldn’t exactly shut it out either.

But back to Holy Rome. I never really knew what happened to him before I started asking my siblings some questions. I knew he reigned for almost a 1000 years and that was truly admirable. But when I heard that he never physically grew out to be an adult, because there was no sense of unity among my other siblings, my perception of the Empire changed a bit. Here I thought he has always been strong but he wasn’t, at least not always. He’s been slowly dying since the 17th century, so I heard. In the 19th the French made a definite end to him. Then he vanished. Gilbert told me, that the unity wasn’t strong enough to keep him alive. Over the years the states and kingdoms all wanted power to themselves and eventually that killed him. I wasn’t an idiot. The states finally had autonomous power to themselves after Holy Rome was gone, of course they didn’t like me coming by and taking it from them with a unified Germany. And at this point the fact that I wasn’t physically growing started to scare me and stress me out greatly. Why, you might think. It takes time for a body to grow. No you don’t understand. I was scared to death that my fate would be the same as Holy Rome’s.

My siblings might have treated me well when I first appeared, but wasn’t a country yet. But I could see they didn’t really want me around when I became a nation. They tried to cling onto that individuality and the fact that Gilbert, Prussia, had the lead in this unified Germany didn’t please many of them either. I’ve always looked up to Gilbert and I’ve learnt many things from him. But I also had to learn that my siblings not always liked him and thought very different about him. So when I wasn’t growing and my scars from the unification weren’t healing I lived with the fear that I might vanish like my predecessor did, because the unification didn’t work. It didn’t help that I was still a child. It was a nightmare. The worst part was that I never told Gilbert about it. No I didn’t want to appear weak in front of him. He was so strong and I really wanted to be like him when I grew older, if I grew that was. These things were really stressing me out and I had legit nightmares about it. Sometimes I wasn’t able to sleep at all. The fate of Holy Rome haunted me.

Luckily after the first 10 years or so of being a nation, I finally started to grow. Slowly. but I did and I felt so relieved! I knew that the unification would work over time and I started to get less haunted by Holy Rome’s fate and the fear of vanishing. At that point I said to myself, that I would grow out to be stronger than him even, I would make it to adulthood and be the strongest country in Europe. How naïve I was. I was too blinded by what my brother Gilbert had learnt and told me. His militarism had made its way deep into my mind. So of course when 1914 arrived, I was enthusiastic about the war! It was my first war after all. We, the German Empire, were the strongest and we’d win this war swiftly! Nobody was a match for us. We were so sure of ourselves. It of course helped a lot that I was already full grown and that was just another sign of the German Empire’s strength. I remember tat Gilbert was so proud of who I had become to be. And I was so happy he said that. But as you all know the war was a disaster. In 1918 I was weakened greatly, much of my territory was taken away. Well, much of Gilbert’s territory actually. But that wasn’t what concerned me the most. I was physically feeling weak too, also because the political system of the time, the Weimar Republic, was just a big failure too. It was the most instable system I had ever experienced, the hyperinflation didn’t help obviously. I felt ashamed of the state I was in. And here again, the fate of Holy Rome started to haunt me. It was ridiculous, but those first few years after the war I had troubles to get my country back into an organized state and I’ve already explained that I don’t like unorganized things. My nights were sleepless. Unlike now I couldn’t keep my cool and I was worried where this chaos would lead me. To a dictatorship I regrettably must admit. You all know how that ended. But I want to mention here that in 1933 my strength was returning and when 1939 was upon us, I was ready to face another war. I hate to admit, but I wanted revenge for what the world had done to me and my brother, Gilbert. Little did I know it would only end even worse. So much worse.

My country was in ruins after the war had finally ended. My people were starving, most of my men went missing or were dead. Almost half my territory was taken away. Don’t get me wrong, I probably deserved this punishment after the horrible things my country had done. At least I thought so. Gilbert was even in a worse state than me. As if this wasn’t enough, the allies decided to dissolve Prussia. My brother was going to vanish. My brother, to whom I’ve looked up to all these years, who had raised me and protected me, wasn’t going to be there anymore. I couldn’t believe it and I tried to plead for him but I was in no position to do so. It had been decided. And here again, the fate of my predecessor started to come back to me. Just like him, I was weakened by war. But at least the unity wasn’t falling apart. That wasn’t enough to keep me from worrying. The future at the time was uncertain for me. I had no idea what was going to happen and I didn’t have my fate in my own hands either. The Allies were deciding things for me. I was scared of the future. I had no idea how I was going to cope with everything. Not with the future and not with the past either. And the fact that Holy Rome was haunting me again didn’t help. I felt so weak and helpless; I really thought I wasn’t going to exist anymore either and that I, just like the ones before me, would vanish. Maybe it is just something very German to be in an existential crisis so often. When I look back it certainly is something I have experienced a lot since the day I became a country. I didn’t really have a childhood, not the one other nations had. There was just no time. The historical circumstance required me to mature much faster than others. I had to learn to adapt and cope with lots of problems and crises. These things were important and needed to be taken serious. There was no room to fool around. Nowadays it surprises me that I’ve managed to do so in a time span of 50 years, which is nothing in terms of nation age.

The last existential crisis I had to face was the building of the wall, which had torn my country in half. As you might imagine my childhood fear came back but I managed to live with it for 40 years. By then I had gotten used to this fear returning every time I was divided and - it didn’t bother me too much from functioning properly anymore. But you could imagine my joy when the wall fell and once again I was unified. However, there is still a division between east and west, from which I’ve gotten one scar left. It’s been slowly healing but who knows when it will fully be gone.

“Ludwig?” I was ripped out of my thoughts by a familiar voice. Oh right, I was still in that café with Francis who asked me something. The question, that triggered all of this. I opened my mouth to say something but closed it again. No I couldn’t possibly tell him all this. I couldn’t bring up Holy Rome in his presence, I know he’d feel guilty about it again. Still, I should be honest with him. Nobody knows about my childhood trauma, maybe he as my best and closest friend should be the first one to know. Enough time had passed now anyway.

“Were you lost in thought?” Francis said with a smile. I just nodded and took another sip of my coffee. Luckily it wasn’t cold yet.

“You ask me how I cope with this current situation of crisis?” I paused. He nodded. “That’s easy actually, I’ve never known much different. As long as I can remember I’ve always lived in a state of crisis.” I looked at my cup on the table, not wanting to see the expression on Francis’ face change.

“Mon cher, that can’t be true… right?” He asked a little uncertain. I managed to look up and as I thought Francis’ expression had changed from joy to something concerned and sad. “You know I had to go through four different stages of political systems in not even a 100 years.” I said softly and tried to sound as neutral as I could. “That leaves its mark on you.” I added before taking another sip. For a moment nobody said something and I tried to analyse Francis’ behaviour. “But of course I had my moments of joy.” I finally added with a weak smile. It wasn’t a lie, it were just not so many moments. The most enjoyable moments and the time I was most carefree was before I became a nation. But I wasn’t going to tell him that. It seemed to cheer him up a little as I noticed the smile appearing back on his face.

“But does that also make you fearless?” He asked after another few moments of silence. Of course he wouldn’t let that go. I put my cup back down on the table. It was almost empty. I drink too fast when I’m lost in thought.

“Every nation got its fears.” I just said and hoped to put and end to this topic. “That is true yes. But it seems you have none Ludwig. You’ve faced the great quarrels of the past and you grew out to be even stronger afterwards. I couldn’t possibly imagine that you would be afraid of something at this stage.” He said rather careful. Well, there wasn’t really a way I could get out of this now, was there? The thought of confessing my fears to him made me uncomfortable. In the past I’ve always hid my emotions and fears in order to appear stronger, just like Gilbert had taught me. But since I’m with Francis I’ve learnt to open up more. I know he would never tell anyone, I trust him.

“It would seem so indeed.” I agreed on his previous comment. “But it’s not the truth.” I hesitated and noticed Francis’ expression was filled with expectation. “I…. “ I tried to get the words out of my mouth but it was much harder than I thought. My muscles tensed up and my hand was shaking a little. The other wasn’t an idiot and of course noticed. Suddenly I felt his hand take mine. “Don’t be nervous Ludwig. You know you can tell me.” His voice was so soft and soothing, it calmed me down. How did he do this? How could he always be so caring?

“Will you promise me not to think different of me?”

“Of course not Ludwig.”

I nodded and took a deep breath. Alright, he had the right to know. Maybe it was best if we as close associates and friends knew each other’s weaknesses as well. Besides, the fear wasn’t that alive anymore these days. I am certain that I will be stronger than Holy Rome. I already am. And so I started to explain it all to him. But while I was talking, I couldn’t stop thinking, when it would be my turn to vanish like my predecessors did.

#headcanons #aph germany #aph france #angst #hetalia #aph fanfiction

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