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peachy-cheeks · 3 months

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Defined

ch: 1 | 2 | 3

synopsis: you and nanami are coworkers and former friends with benefits grappling with the decision to consciously uncouple as a non-couple (aka stop doing each other)

word count: 1,937 words

characters: nanami kento x gn!reader

warnings: angsty kinda, slight sexual mentions this chapter

a/n: i was gonna talk a bunch here about clarifying intentions, labels and titles meaning things, etc. but i thought that was entirely too much... i imagine if you've been anywhere on the fwb/situationship spectrum then you'll just get the gist of it all

"With this, there was no dating. No tender moments in public or meeting family. And no telling coworkers... absolutely not. The closest semblance to a normal partnership was the rare mission assigned together. The ones you both went on afar from Tokyo, apart from the blood and guts, felt a bit like little vacations.

But even if his hands fell onto and held your waist a certain way. Or if his teeth tugged your bottom lip as his to claim. Even with the smiles that bookended your meetings of intimately learning the other's weaknesses. This was not that kind of relationship."

Violet with dying rays of orange and pink melted into the growing spread of navy sky. The moon always seemed to look brighter up north.

So many mundane blessings clicked for you in moments like these. The daily changes in the sky, the gentle crumble and cushion of leaves beneath your sore soles, an intact spine... it all felt so nice. Normal miracles.

Lucky, some would say. You were lucky to experience those blessings.

"Ah, so you're headed to Hiraizumi?" "Yeah well, nearby. There've been quite a few disappearances near the Satetsu river. I've never been but it seems fairly quiet there otherwise." "It's pretty... beautiful really. But you'll want to be careful up there. Lots of concentrated energy." "Of course. I'm looking forward to it." "Try not to take offense to this, but who'll be going with you? I don't imagine they'd send anyone near there alone unless it was Gojo." "Well, I'll be with Nanami... we've worked together a couple of times. I think we get along just fine. Should go fine." "Aren't you lucky..." "Mmm." "Seriously though, be careful. For them to assign a grade 1 and semi grade 1 on a single assignment. Sounds like they don't even know how big of a problem it really could be." "Right... you sure you don't wanna swap places with me, Kusakabe?" "Don't make me laugh. Try to come back in one piece."

Last week's conversation played in your head while you gradually retreated from the wilderness toward the nearest town. The replay was a welcomed distraction from the internal and external bruises that slowed your pace. It also took away from the freshly-made replay of you nearly being split into pieces by the wickedly sharp appendages of the curse you faced not even an hour before.

"Nanami?" "...Yes?" "Thank you... for watching my back there."

Met with silence, not that you were expecting much. An expression of gratitude is a hard conversation point for someone unenthused to relish in their own good deeds. Because he was there, your near-fate was returned to its sender. As planned, the 7:3 Sorcerer's dull blade tore apart the sickened flesh that held the curse together. No rumination of the act on his part out of politeness, sure, but more so out of professionalism.

His position, tried and true, was simple: what kind of sorcerer would he be if he stood by and allowed you to be decapitated by a curse mere feet away from him?

'I need to work on my reaction time...' Who doesn't? You're at the best that you've known yourself at. 'I'm sorry for being a burden...' Fuck no. That doesn't make sense and it sounds pathetic.

Thoughts trailed off as your steps continued. 'Just leave it...' A breeze slapped against your cheeks and your adrenaline continued to fall.

Even now, the silent air between you both was not uncomfortable. Though, it never usually was. Besides, many sorcerers pray for minutes of peace to grow into hours, days, and months. Most find the time after intense combat to be the purest form of peace; from one extreme to its polar opposite in seconds. Colors, light, scents, and temperature all came through so much clearer... more precise in those after moments.

Auras too... and his captivated you. It had for so, so long, but in the duration of your relationship you had rarely seen this particular quick swell, bright glow, and slow decompression. Witnessing it made you grateful.

Strong. By nature and nurture, his strength was hardwired into his body, mind, and soul. It struck a perfect balance with his kindness, something unwavering that you witnessed the moment you ran into him years ago (literally, by immaculate chance) as a salary man.

Kindness and strength, just two of his many traits that defined the humanity you adored. Steady in your meeting, brief union, and eventual break. At every stage, it was never difficult to find Nanami admirable.

“There’s no way they properly considered the risk of this assignment."

What were you two talking about again? Oh—

"Yeah. It's odd that they sent us both." "It’s… a disheartening situation.” "..."

You sincerely hoped it wasn't becau—

"...Not because of you..." "Oh, I... I understand."

Of course you understood, it came with your own strength. But surely he could've handled that curse without yo—

"Thank you for your hard work. You created a wide opening for me to assist. I'm not sure I would've been able to do this without you." "...Mm. No problem... me either. I certainly couldn't have done this alone."

Your statement was obvious, as you were covered in far more wounds and marks compared to your coworker. You may have landed more blows against the curse, but he certainly managed to move efficiently and avoid the brunt of what you got.

"Are you feeling faint?" “No… I’m okay. Thanks.”

Maybe faint wasn’t the proper word, but the goosebumps on your skin made it harder to move. Colors, temperature, and that growing navy sky felt colder and colder. Terrible shame that the nearest town was still a 30 minute hike... and that the nearest auxiliary manager was another 20 minutes away.

“Are you sure?” “…Yeah… I’m just a little chilly…”

In a singular, swift motion, the weight of Nanami’s blazer comfortably swallowed your shoulders. Without hesitation, he had removed the layer for your benefit.

“Your adrenaline is dropping.” “T-thank you… thanks... but so is yours. Aren’t you cold?” “My injuries are minor and we don’t have long to go.” “Okay… well... let me know if you want this back at any point.” “I’ll be fine.”

If Nanami was anything, he was an excellent coworker. A professional and selfless team player in every sense. The evening grew cooler and despite the donated layer, the chill sank into your exposed skin and down your bones. 15 more minutes, huh?

"Do you think you can make it for the next-" "Next 15 minutes? Y-yeah, I think so." "..."

You figured, at least until his question made your knees buckle. His ever watchful eyes took in your attempt to conceal a growing limp. Did this curse really fuck you up that bad?

"Hold on."

Nanami placed a firm hand on your shoulder prompting you to pause and repositioned the harness that holstered his weapon from his back to his shoulder.

"If you're comfortable with this, I'll carry you until we reach town. Please don't feel indebted to me, I don't want your injuries to worsen from oversight." "I... Nanami..."

God. First, his coat. Now, his back. What more could he give?

He certainly wasn't being chivalrous to prove a point... was he? What point would he even be making?

Well... how long were you going to make him wait...?

"I don't mean to pressure you..."

Hazel eyes, bare of his glasses, were kind and waiting for your answer. A familiar air of disarming patience carved the cold air between you. Were his eyes always this way when looking towards you? Even now?

"N-no. No, it's... I..."

Deep breath... okay.

"Thank you. Thanks... I really appreciate that." "Okay. Just try not to lean back, I might lose my balance."

He wouldn't, you both knew, but the warning put you at ease. You smiled, nearly drawing out a teasing quip in response. As gently and respectfully as possible, you made your way onto Nanami's back. Your body was pressed flatly against the broad, dense surface of his. With sturdy arms roped around the plush of your thighs that rested on both sides of his waist, he resumed a slower pace.

The bob of his walk complimented the steady rhythm of his heart, both of which reverberated through your own chest making you wish you could sink into him. The newfound warmth soothed the growing aches and you slipped into sleep. No matter how hard you tried, your body could never forget the comfort that his brought you.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea..." "...Sure." I guess the illusion of this fantasy had finally caught up to you two. Five months of willingly bending your own limits, testing the line of professionalism and personal boundaries. Neither of you would've ever sought out another sorcerer as a long-term partner. Sort of stupid to think that indulging in each other carnally would be a sustainable form of healing. With this, there was no dating. No tender moments in public or meeting family. And no telling coworkers... absolutely not. The closest semblance to a normal partnership was the rare mission assigned together. The ones you both went on afar from Tokyo, apart from the blood and guts, felt a bit like little vacations. But even if his hands fell onto and held your waist a certain way. Or if his teeth tugged your bottom lip as his to claim. Even with the smiles that bookended your meetings of intimately learning the other's weaknesses. This was not that kind of relationship. "I don't regret where we are. But being like this might do more harm than good longterm." What an incredibly stupid conversation to have in bed. And what a crazy thing for him to say with his lips still pressed to your neck. "Kento... I don't think we were planning on doing this forever, right?" So why do this in the first place? Maybe he doesn't need a friend (is that what you are?) like you anymore. The sex, itself, was never the problem. If it was, the conversation wouldn't have followed your pleads for him to consume every part of you (and him fulfilling every request.) Pillow talk and waxing poetic about alternative lives or separate futures would eventually run dry. Neither person wanted to escalate beyond where you two comfortably were. Blissfully uncoupled. And as cathartic as it proved, unpacking core memories and histories as a non-couple was... very intimate for the type of relationship you agreed to share. But sometimes you figured you could do this... it all... forever, at lest with him. Not that forever was particularly long for the average career sorcerer anyway. Your own trauma was similar to his own formative heartbreaks, both spoken about in bits and pieces scattered across your time together. Compassion and the embracing calm of your bedroom beckoned Nanami's largely regulated vulnerability. Five months of unlocking each other to see and be seen, if only for a few hours. Maybe what you both really needed was a good therapist? "Hey... Kento?" "Yes?" "Do you still want to work together?" "Of course... but I think we'll need distance." "Of course. Yeah... ok. Ok... just don't treat me like a stranger." "I never will."

Of course. Responsibility was never solely about physical strength, but about balancing the variables: endurance, intuition, experience, maybe even spite at times… but, most importantly, care. And he was always so responsible.

A responsible, capable, and careful man would do what he could to protect you. How cruel would it be for him to suddenly change when your heart had been so close to his, then and now? Of course a responsible man would carry you when you were down and he'd even let you dampen his shoulder with your tears, awake or not. Naturally, he'd let you grieve what should have been let go.

For the sake of work, sanity, and your friendship.

So here you two were. Nearly five more months down the line since your last meeting. And as much as the partnership changed, the players stayed the same. Accepting another rare assignment together, but with the new goal of making it unremarkable. Just work. Open and closed, with no strings attached.

#jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk scenarios #jjk x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami headcanons #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami x you #gn reader #jjk angst

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twig-tea · 2 months

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Love in the Big City Part 3: Kylie Recontextualizes Everything

I have waffled all week about what to write about this chapter. There have been some great essays about HIV and the stigma in Korea by @stuffnonsenseandotherthings here, as well as how antiretrovirals and pre-exposure prophylactics work and when they were available from @wen-kexing-apologist here. This context was all critical to understand everything Young doesn’t talk about in this section of the book.

I’ve been stuck on so many parts of this section of the book. The way stigma holds people back from care, from maintenance, from life-saving treatment and knowledge, from understanding their condition and preventing them unnecessarily from living a full life, which @doyou000me had me thinking about with their comments about Young’s coping mechanisms of minimization and emotional distance that possibly worked in conjunction with the Korean government healthcare policies and social stigma to keep Young from being informed about his own condition. The way Young holds himself back from happiness, and how it’s so heartbreaking to watch him open up to it slowly in this section and then, as @my-rose-tinted-glasses wrote , he let the shame and self-loathing take control again. The way this relationship feels so real; @lurkingshan wrote so eloquently on how this section describes the details of a relationship as it started to settle. The relationship with Hyung was entirely ephemeral, in the liminal period of time between when Young was visiting his mother in hospital and before everything opened again for the day. There is so much that Young and Hyung never talked about–more than was obvious in chapter 2, because he never told Hyung about Kylie. In contrast, as @bengiyo pointed out, his relationship with Gyu-Ho started with honesty and was rooted in the physical presence of their apartment, which as a beautiful metaphor was grounded and improved slowly over time through the work they put into it but was also too small for them.

I keep thinking about how Part 3 is bookended by Young disappointing Gyu-Ho with his absence. How he leaves him at the airport both times, thinking he’s doing Gyu-Ho a favour actually–he characterizes Gyu-Ho’s trip to Japan without him as much more fun, and he imagines Gyu-Ho’s future in Singapore will be better. In both cases, Gyu-Ho was only going because of Young, because Young wanted to, and Young planned it. But our narrator cannot get past seeing himself as something that brings Gyu-Ho down, and so he sabotages his own future. I feel for Gyu-Ho, being shepherded onto a plane alone when he was envisioning his future with the man he loved. It must have been devastating to be pushed away.

This is not related to anything but I just love the detail of Young’s split lip and how he tastes blood when he kisses Gyu-Ho while drunk at the club and not yet knowing his name, and then panics, and we as readers don’t yet know why. Brilliant storytelling.

I can’t stop thinking about how this reveal recontextualizes everything in parts 1 and 2. How the “incident that earned me a medical discharge” means Kylie was already in Young’s life as he took the engineering student he was seeing with him to get an STD check; as he was screamed at by an ex who prophesied that Young would get sick from being promiscuous and called him a ‘dirty rag that could never be cleaned’, which Young took with stoicism. I loved @bengiyo ‘s observation in his post linked above that Kylie’s presence likely coloured his reaction to Jaehee outing him to her fiance.

Kylie was present as he watched his coffee be stolen by Hyung, when he thought about introducing Hyung to his mother, while he was wrestling with how Hyung (and, I think the narration makes clear, how he) was ashamed at how Young couldn’t ‘pass’ and was ‘obviously gay’, when he choked Hyung in his mother’s kitchen and it was seeing his tears on Hyung’s face that made Young let go. Kylie was part of him when he drank pesticide and tried to die, while he sat by his mother’s sickbed and had her head in his lap in the park, when he said “disease can turn anyone into a completely different person”, when he said he would “hope that she would die without having known.”

Mostly, my brain keeps getting stuck on how familiar Young is to me. His choices, his self-loathing, his refusal to take anything seriously because at his core he’s terrified of facing what his reality means. And that fear ironically gets in the way of him understanding that his reality is not as scary as he thinks it is. He functions like he has to be alone, and so much of that comes from his internalized homophobia and his HIV diagnosis. He’s been told he’s dirty, something to be cleaned but irreparable, by so many people in different ways through his life. The man he claims as his greatest love barely even liked him as a person, and didn’t fully know him. I think that’s why he was able to feel more fully with Hyung, because in a way that relationship felt safer..Gyu-Ho, the person who knew all of him, and who wanted to build a life together with that complete and full knowledge of him, must have been terrifying, and I’m not surprised it felt easier to push him away than to fight for their future together. But it breaks my heart.

There’s something rattling in my head about the T-aras that I don’t really know how to get out onto the page. In this chapter it’s revealed that the T-aras have been around the whole time, but they weren’t mentioned in parts 1 and 2. I think the fact that Young’s life feels more rounded, filled in with other people, and rich, than in parts 1 and 2 speaks to his emotional state in this part, as well as to how his time with Gyu-Ho wasn’t obsession but was more grounded in the mundane and the everyday. The T-aras themselves feel like familiar friends. Like with Hyung and JaeHee (at first), Young is drawn to people who he can remain emotionally distant from and who remain emotionally distant from him. People who will buy the story of “ruptured disc” for why he left military service early. People who joke about being poz and won’t ask questions and who hear the news about his new boyfriend as an ‘in’ to their favourite club. People who don’t take things seriously (or in Hyung’s case take things so seriously that Young can’t take him seriously). I was so glad to find out they existed because up to this point Young felt so isolated most of the time, with his world circling around one obsession in each part. But he had the T-aras the whole time; I’m choosing to read this as he just didn’t hold their importance to him in the same way in parts 1 and 2. As was already clear in the narrative but this makes even more obvious, Young’s isolation is not only self-inflicted but it’s in some ways a lie he tells himself to feel safer. He has friends, he just refuses to acknowledge their presence or importance, or to let them in to be more important, because he is so braced for being rejected for core parts of him that cannot be excised.

#litbc book club #love in the big city #sorry i'm so late with this one #this got more florid than i like to be #this Part had me way too in my feelings

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fool-inthe-rain · 1 year

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The End of the World

Harry Potter x Reader

wc: 1000~

Content: Angst. Death, violence. Takes place during the battle of Hogwarts so you can assume how this ones gonna go. Use of she/her pronouns. Harry and Ginny are not together.

This was it. 2nd May 1998. This would be the bookend to the war, it was easy to tell. The defensive spells enveloping Hogwarts had been broken through, the stone soldiers were dwindling in numbers, and so many had already died. Voldemort had just called for an armistice, one hour to care for the dead and wounded.

Chaos. Chaos was the only word.

She found herself stumbling through the ruins of the great hall, blood caking her shirt and dripping from her sleeves. The pain was searing hot, but she needed to find Harry. If she was going to die, it was going to be in his arms, so help her God. Stumbling once more she knew time was nigh, and the only thing she wanted to do was lie down and sleep.

“Oh Godric.” Arms wrapped around her body, her vision was too blurry to tell who’s arms, but she knew they were not Harry’s.

She was lowered to the ground slowly, cries left her mouth from pain the shifting of her body caused. Her back was pressed against a strong chest, and when the tears finally spilled from her eyes her vision cleared enough to see herself surrounded by Weasley’s. She saw Ginny first, standing in shock over a body. Fred. Molly was stroking her son’s hair, spilling her tears onto his unmoving chest.

She tried wiggling out of whoever’s arms she was in to get to Molly, to hold her hand the same way she did when George lost his ear, but the arms got tighter.

“Don’t move, it’s okay.” It was Charlie who had her. His voice sounded like her childhood. Summers spent at the Burrow, and holidays, always made better by a surprise visit from the great dragon handler.

“Fred.” Was all she could get out before she felt warm liquid bubbling up into her throat.

Charlie’s only response was quiet sobs for his brother. A soul so lively, that she almost didn’t believe he was gone, she thought the blood loss was playing tricks on her mind. Molly turned her head slightly, catching a glimpse of Charlie holding the girl she had practically raised as her own. She couldn’t leave Fred, however, even though her heart pulled and pleaded with her to help the young witch.

“Charlie?” Her voice was weak, and bloody coughs spilled from her mouth after she uttered his name.

“Yes?” His voice cracked.

“I’m so sorry.” She tried turning her head to look at him, but it was too much work. She was too tired to move anymore.

She felt him place a brotherly kiss to the top of her head, reassuring her that everything would be okay. Maybe not anytime soon, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t have to worry about that.

“I’m dying aren’t I?” Her breathing was becoming laboured and raspy, her heart was working overtime trying to keep her alive.

“No! No, I will not let you die. You can’t die.” He sobbed once more, knowing that life was not something he had the privilege of promising her.

“I’ll be okay, Fred will keep me company.” She closed her eyes, smiling at the thought of hearing her friend's laughter once more.

Her head fell forward, slightly swaying.

“Is Harry here?” She didn’t know how she knew he had entered the Hall, she could just feel him.

Charlie looked around the room, Harry was slowly walking through the length of the room. Ron and Hermione had made their way over quickly once they saw Fred laying dead. She could hear Ron’s cries, and the sound alone caused her more pain than any of her wounds.

Her eyes opened when she felt a warm hand wrap around hers. It was Hermione. She had a sad smile on her face, and tears dripped down her nose and chin as she took in the severity of the situation surrounding her.

She tried to speak but Hermione shushed her.

“Don’t speak, save your energy.” Hermione squeezed her hand tighter, scared that letting go now would mean letting go forever.

Hermione’s head snapped up, seeing Harry taking somber steps towards them. She followed her best friend's eye line, and when she saw who she was looking at her lips turned up sleepily, he was finally here. When Harry reached them, Charlie switched spots with him, and went back to comfort his mother, he could not watch another person he loved die.

“Oh, darling.” Harry’s voice was thick with tears. He scanned her body, trying to see what exactly was slowing his lover's heart, but she was such a mess he couldn’t find the source.

“I’ll go get help.” Hermione, still proactive in all the chaos.

“No.” She used all her strength to pull Hermione back down. “Too late for that.” Her words were slurred.

“You can’t leave me, please. Not you too.” Harry was crying into her hair, his hands were crossed across the front of her body, trying to keep her whole.

He shifted so she was laying across his lap, he needed to see her face. The sweet face of the sweet girl he had fallen in love with.

“I’ll never leave you. ‘M always gonna be with you.” Her eyes stayed open long enough to admire him one last time. The bump on his nose, the curve of his jaw, the way his arms felt around her. When he touched her all her pain went away. She was grateful for that. She did not want to be in agony when she left.

Her eyes closed for the last time. Her heart took leave, too tired from trying and failing to pump life into her body.

Harry placed a weak hand on her chest, hoping he would feel the natural rise and fall that came with being alive. He doubled over her body and gripped at her sweater, letting out loud sobs. Hermione placed a hand on his back, trying to comfort him even though she had also lost her best friend.

“I’ll make this right for you.” He whispered into her chest, knowing she no longer occupied the body laying before him.

Revenge. Revenge was the only word.

#harry potter imagine #harry potter #harry potter angst #thoughts from my grave #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fluff #fred weasley #hermione granger #ron weasley

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shortpplfedup · 1 year

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Of course I have fallen down an ITSAY/IPYTM rewatch rabbit hole the moment I have things to do. Instead of spamming @bengiyo lemme liveblog...

On Viki the new subs are chef's kiss. Grammar, tone, readability, idiom usage, much improved. I also FINALLY know what MoRaoYuLok means!

Man the fight they have at the temple after this middle school play is the EXACT same fight they have in the bathtub in IPYTM. Like the dialogue is almost word for word. I love that the same fight bookends the beginning and end of the acting dream for Oh Aew. HOW IS THIS SHOW STILL GIVING ME NEW TEAS YEARS LATER?

'I think someone like you will quit eventually' - cut to him quitting in IPYTM and them having this exact same fight. And people say Teh changed...HE NEVER DID.

If I could ask Boss one question I would ask him when Teh's dad died. Like...it haunts me. I feel like so much of Teh is explained by his dad's death. Like, does he die before or after the middle school play? Was it illness or incident? It's the last key to completely unlocking the character and I WANT IT.

I have so much more of an ear for Thai now than I did when I first watched this, and the difference in that plus the difference in the subs is making this a whole new experience.

I also now know what 'Saleng' means thanks to the subs. MLC's Leng's parents really named him after a sidecar motorcycle? Jail.

Man now that I know a smattering of Thai, Teh and Tarn were really basically dating. Like she had expectations, he'd made promises. He really just abandoned her to run after this boy he swore up and down he hated.

I always forget Oh Aew had 90 thousand Instagram followers. And he wasn't even showing feet. You know his DMs were wet. Oh Aew's influencer status needed to be explored more.

They actually translated some of these thirsty Instagram comments 🤣 'I want to be the red bean up there' referring to the red beans topping the oh aew dessert. HORNY JAIL FOR OH AEW'S INSTA FOLLOWERS.

Teh literally got under the covers and stared at this man's picture for WHO KNOWS HOW LONG.

WHY DID I START THIS?!

Hoon really treats Teh like an annoying little brother.

Teh and this pomade 🤣 THE RITUALS ARE INTRICATE AND ELABORATE.

This teacher really decided to roast Teh in front of everybody🤣

Teh really sitting here at this cafe dragging down the mood with his heavy vibes.

Man I forgot how petty Oh Aew could be 🤣 'Oh Bas you're so smart, so much smarter than dumbass Teh *bats eyelashes*

The friends really went through it with these two. You know how hard it is to maintain a friend group that includes two people who are in love/have beef? Yes I put those two things together. Kai n'em fighting for their lives this whole show.

Not Bas the New Friend putting his foot right in his mouth talking reckless about this Chinese play and the whole group bracing for impact. Nobody warned him these two are in love/have beef?

Oh Aew embarrassed as shit now, plan totally rumbled, not that Teh's dumbass even understood why he wanted to do a CHINESE PLAY WITH PEOPLE FROM DIFFERENT SCHOOLS.

'Didn't anybody tell you?' WHY Y'ALL AIN'T TOLD HIM INSTEAD OF LETTING HIM GO POPPING OFF AT THE MOUTH?

Man I had forgotten how subtle yet totally clear the acting in this was from jump. Billkin and PP's eyes, their face journeys, the small microexpressions, the body English...you know exactly what they're thinking at all times.

Teh: 'Oh? A Chinese play?' Mod n'em's facial expressions: 'Oh shit here we fucking go.' Bas's face: 'What just happened? Why'd the temperature drop 20 degrees?'

Oh Aew said leap if you're feeling froggy and they were really about to scrap over a 3-year old petty beef. Who says men aren't emotional?

Teh was out of order making fun of Oh Aew's grades and he knew it immediately too. Forever popping off at the mouth and instantly regretting it, from the beginning.

Bas looks so distressed that he caused this whole altercation. I'd actually really love to know Bas's perspective on this story, because from where he's sitting the whole thing is WILD.

It's really striking me on this rewatch how protective the friends are of Oh Aew, not just Bas but Phillip n'em as well. He always engenders such loyalty, whereas Teh is harder to love hence why he doesn't have other friends except their mutuals.

Oh Aew called Teh an asshole with his whole chest, love that for him. Teh was absolutely being an asshole.

Kai really like 'how y'all still beefing off some middle school shit and we about to be in COLLEGE? Let it go!' And you really get the feeling Oh Aew really did want to try to squash it until Teh came at him all RAH.

I never really got a sense of the dynamic between Oh Aew and his parents. It's clearly loving and supportive, but it doesn't seem terribly affectionate and it's maybe a little distant? Idk how much of my reading of it is due to it not really being foregrounded as compared to Teh's familial dynamic. But Teh is main character and Oh Aew is the love interest so Teh does get a deeper dive.

You forget all the time that Teh is totally the spoiled baby brat of his family.

In this scene where they're waiting for the admission results, you can see Oh Aew's stress level shoot up in real time when he realises Teh has entered the room. Teh has put in his head that he's not gonna make it, and he doesn't want Teh to see him fail (and probably gloat about it he's thinking). And then Teh FOLLOWS him...no wonder he runs away like Teh's the devil. Teh's literally number 1 on the admissions list and Oh Aew didn't make it. And he thinks there's no way he can make it through the admissions system so the dream's dead. With the hindsight of realising that everything Oh Aew did since their fight was a combination of wanting to prove to Teh he was wrong about him plus hoping that they could repair their broken relationship and be close again...ARGH this show will forever put me in my feels.

Oh Aew always looks so small sitting on that beach alone in this scene. It's been said a million times, but the filmmaking in this show absolutely slaps. That tracking shot following Oh Aew getting his bags from Teh and then walking away as Teh follows? So good...

You really feel the weight of Teh's apology here, how he first apologises for the immediate offence and then realises no, that's not all he feels guilty about. The apology is such an unburdening for him and you can feel the weight lift off him when Oh Aew accepts it. Also, Oh Aew's surprise and immediate surge of emotion at each stage of Teh's apology...ugh these boys acted DOWN, so detailed, so effective!

This show is built around Teh and Oh's conversations, they're so important to me for how raw and vulnerable they always are. Part of the reason things fall apart for them in I Promised You the Moon is that they stop talking to each other like this, because they're trying to be brave, or to be grown up, or to be considerate, or to hide how not fine they are.

For Oh Aew to say 'I forgive you but bitch I DESPISED you, I don't know if we can ever come back from that' was such a moment. Teh being forced to sit with the possibility that what he broke with his pride and selfishness might not ever be fixable, and deciding to try ANYWAY...see this is why despite him being the worst he's also the best.

No but Teh really went from calling that sidecar 'hideous' and 'embarrassing' to taking it everywhere because it could carry Oh Aew, and all the things he wanted to give Oh Aew. But this fool really packed up every school book he owned in a suitcase he stole from his brother and left his house at the crack of dawn to give them to Oh Aew. Down HORRENDOUS.

Oh Aew's smile before he answers Teh's ke yi ma always gets me.

Guess I'm back on my ITSAY/IPYTM bullshit

#i told sunset about you #itsay #itsay 1 #live rewatch #liveblog #translate my love with your heart

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ewritesfanfics · 1 year

Text

MerMay: Fishy Business

Here's my singular contribution to MerMay, inspired by @mdoodlerfandomart's piece featuring Douxie and Mer!Jim!

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47167396

Jim comes home to Douxie doing some magic, which ends with him a little fishier than before. --- He opened the front door and kicked his shoes off, and heard from the kitchen, “Are you sure about this, Douxie?” And then, the infamous words: “It’ll be fine, Arch.” That should’ve been his first clue to turn right around and leave.

To say this day has not gone as expected would be an understatement.

And it all started with three words that unfailingly spell unmitigated disaster.

“It’ll be fine.”

That’s what Jim came home to after a long school day, tired and ready to vegetate on his couch for however long Blinky would allow.

He opened the front door and kicked his shoes off, and heard from the kitchen, “Are you sure about this, Douxie?”

And then, the infamous words: “It’ll be fine, Arch.”

That should’ve been his first clue to turn right around and leave.

But he didn’t.

No, instead, he walked into the living room, calling out, “What’re you up to?” like a dumbass.

He got his answer all too quickly.

As soon as the words left his mouth, a spell left Douxie’s, and the kitchen, dining room, and living room became bathed in the blue light of his sigil. Only, the sigil shattered. With a yelp, Douxie was blasted to the floor from the force of the shattering, and a streak of light loosed by the breaking first bounced off a wall, then the floor, through the opening between the kitchen and dining, off a light fixture, and then, because of course it would with his luck, struck Jim right in the chest and dissipated.

He should’ve just gone straight to Trollmarket.

“Jim!” Douxie scrambled onto his feet and into the dining room, face pale, eyes wide, a panicked note to his voice.

Before he could even ask what that was, he got this weird tingling feeling in his hips that quickly shot down both legs. Tingling turned into total numbness and with all feeling below the waist gone, he faceplanted with a startled yelp, which is accompanied by the sound of ripping denim.

When he looked down, to see what was up with his legs, to say he screamed would be an understatement.

Instead of legs, there was a long fucking fish tail sprouting from his torso, skin blending seamlessly into iridescent blue scales that led to a pair of long, flared fins, underneath which were the shredded remains of his favorite jeans, his socks, and his boxers that he had been wearing but moments prior.

And that’s how he finds himself where he is right now.

“What the hell were you even trying to do???”

“I was trying to help you,” Douxie grunts as he hauls Jim up another step, arms hooked under Jim’s armpits, the motion bookended by the thud of his hips and the wet slap of Jim’s tail against the wooden stairs. “Why are you so much heavier with a tail?”

“How were you trying to help me?” Jim asks.

“I saw your meal plan,” Douxie, huffing as they thunk up another step, and Jim has to bite back a yelp at his tailbone hitting the harsh corner of a stair – thud, slap. “And I saw you hadn’t bought enough fish for one of this week’s dinners, so I thought I might transfigure some of the extra chicken I’ve had frozen into some fish for you to use because I am kind and thoughtful like that.”

“And how does that translate to you fish-ifying me?”

“Well, it’s been a hot minute since I did any transfiguration,” Douxie says, and up another step – thud, slap. “So, I guess I misremembered or misspelled something in the stabilization runes.”

“I’m a fish because you made a typo???” Jim asks incredulously.

“You’re a partial fish because I made a typo,” Douxie says. Another step – thud, slap.

“And that’s better?” Jim asks.

“For you,” Douxie says. Thud, slap. “Much less physically taxing than a full transfiguration. Beginning to question whether it’s better for me or not, though.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Jim asks.

“Well, I figure hauling a full fish upstairs would be easier than a fish boy, I wouldn’t have to worry about your dignity or your whining then,” Douxie says – thud, slap – and Jim doesn’t need to see his face to know he’s wearing that cheeky grin.

“Asshole.” Jim tries to smack Douxie, but apparently, Douxie’s grip isn’t as good as he’d thought. As soon as his arm is past a 90-degree angle, Douxie’s hold breaks.

The noises he makes as he thuds down the stairs are about as undignified as they come, both the vocal noises and the physical noises of his tail wetly slapping against the stairs, railing, and wall. Once he’s finally back on the ground floor, he’s pretty sure he’s bruised in places that he’s never been bruised in before, in places that hadn’t existed before he came home.

“You alright?” Douxie calls down.

“Peachy.”

“Well, since you’re alright,” Douxie says, once he’s joined Jim, “that was your own fault.”

“Shut up and get me to the bathtub.”

///

A half-hour later finds them finally in the bathroom after several attempts at getting Jim up the stairs.

Once Jim’s set up in the tub, Douxie turns the water on and goes back downstairs to retrieve his spell book. Jim wrestles his jacket and shirt off to keep them dry and then realizes that he doesn’t know if he can reach the bathtub knobs with his tail in the way. Luckily, Douxie times it well, returning with the book and with Archie just as the tub is about full, turning the water off with a flick of his fingers.

And then, with a shit-eating grin, Douxie plops a rubber ducky into the bath.

“Do you think this is funny?” Jim asks.

“No, no, of course not,” Douxie obviously lies as he starts to flick through his book.

“It’s not funny! I’m a fucking fish!”

“You know, believe it or not, this isn’t the worst outcome of a spell gone haywire I’ve ever seen,” Douxie then says, flicking through more pages.

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Jim asks. “Come on, dude! You did this, now undo it!”

“For the love of– hold on, I’m looking!” Douxie says. Then adds under his breath, “I’m still out of breath from hauling your fish ass up those stairs …”

Jim takes the stupid rubber ducky and pelts him with it, nailing the wizard in the forehead with a high-pitched squeak and making him drop the book with an “Ow!”. The ducky bounces back in a perfect arc and flies into the bath with a plunk.

“Dude!”

“I’ll do it again,” Jim threatens, finding the ducky and priming it to be pitched once more.

“I’m the one getting you out of this mess!”

“You’re the one who got me into this mess!”

“And I’m the one who can leave you in this mess– ow!” This time Jim makes sure the ducky hits him in the eye, with enough force for an even higher-pitched squeak.

“You know what, you’ve lost your ducky privileges!” Douxie says, clamping one hand over his eye and picking up the ducky from where it fell with the other to stick it in the cabinet behind the mirror.

“Boys,” Archie chides from his perch on the toilet seat, “squabbling isn’t going to get this fixed any faster.”

They both grumble, but they know he’s right. Douxie goes back to flipping through his book and Jim sinks further into the bath until all that’s sticking out is his head and the end of his tail draped over the side of the tub. Looking at his tail he can’t help but actually stop and think about it for a moment. As long as it can be fixed, being a merman for a little while could actually be kinda cool. And his tail is quite pretty, the shades of blue shifting and glimmering even in the shitty bathroom lighting, so he’s sure it would be even more brilliant in daylight. He’d almost like to find out – if it didn’t involve getting back down those godforsaken stairs.

As each silent second ticks by, his curiosity grows until he finally allows him to very slowly and carefully try to move. To his surprise, his tail responds instantly and easily, a movement as natural as walking. The powerful muscles beneath the scales flex and stretch to slowly raise his fins up, bringing them closer and allowing him a better look at them. They’re of a lighter shade than the rest of his tail, though they fade to a much darker shade at the tips. Running a hand over them, he’s surprised at how sturdy they feel. He supposes they must be sturdy to propel something his size around, but still, he’d been expecting something a little more delicate. He is also shocked by how sensitive they are to touch, perfectly registering every motion and twitch of his fingers.

“Hmm … I think I’ve found something,” Douxie says after what feels like forever.

“Finally,” Jim says, allowing his tail to flop back down. “What is it?”

“Well, normally it’d just be a simple spell, but since we’re dealing with a spell gone wrong and a living being here, it’s a bit more complicated,” Douxie says. “I’m thinking our safest bet would be this potion.”

Jim can feel himself pale at that, his pruned hands growing clammy and sweat breaking out on the back of his neck, his heartbeat suddenly a hundred times louder in his ears.

Potion.

Douxie obviously sees the shift and quickly adds, “It’s one you drink! And it looks like this!” He turns the book around to show Jim an illustration of a corked bottle filled with a light pinkish-purple liquid.

That does help calm him down – the color is about as far from the inky black that haunts his nightmares to this very day as one can get, and there’s a relief in the fact that he’ll be the one consuming it rather than the other way around, but that doesn’t totally stop the nerves jittering in his stomach and crawling under his skin.

“Are you alright with trying this?” Douxie asks, his tone careful.

Jim swallows thickly, trying and failing to find words, so he just nods. If Douxie says this is the safest bet, then he’ll do it.

“Alright … ok, I’m going to send the list of ingredients to Blinky, and he can let me know if I need to personally gather any of it.”

While Douxie does that, movement catches Jim’s eyes, and he looks to see Archie padding over to him. He jumps up onto the edge of the tub and sniffs at Jim’s tail, which only makes Jim confused.

“Arch, what’re you doing?” he asks.

He gets no response, the cat-dragon just staring at his tail with blown pupils, this weird low sound rumbling in his chest that Jim does not like.

…

Cat-dragon.

“Uh, Douxie, could you get Archie?” Jim asks. He looks over when he gets no response and sees that Douxie is totally engrossed in typing out the ingredients, eyes flicking between his phone and the book as he types furiously.

Not even a full five seconds later–

“FUCK!”

He wrenches his tail away from the pointy teeth now sunk into his fins. The jerk sprays water across the room and flings Archie away, sending him tumbling through the open bathroom door with a yowl.

“What the fuck?” Douxie splutters, now soaked.

“Get your fucking familiar, man!”

It takes Douxie a second to realize what just happened, but once he fully registers, he curses, puts his stuff aside, and goes to close the bathroom door firmly.

“Sorry about that,” Douxie sighs. “I should’ve anticipated that, he loves fish.”

“You don’t say,” Jim says. That story Douxie and Claire had told him about Nimuë and Archie’s heart’s desire being smoked salmon comes to mind.

Not long after, Douxie hears word from Blinky, confirming that Team Trollhunter’s got it all handled and they should have everything within the next couple of hours.

“So … do I just sit here and wait?” Jim asks incredulously.

“Unless you have a means of transport to a different body of water, pretty much, ‘cause I am not carrying you back down those stairs,” Douxie says.

Actually …

“Text Claire.”

What can he say, he’s curious, not to mention in need of a distraction from the whole ‘potion’ thing.

///

A few miles outside of Arcadia, the small stream those river trolls live in turns into a proper river, wide and deep, not to mention remote. Here the trees grow tall and thick, ancient giants looking over the land, with their boughs arcing gracefully over the water to paint it pink with fallen petals in the spring, dust it regal red and gold in the autumn, allow the cold light to skip across the surface in winter, and filter the hot sun through rich green in the summer. Here the water runs clean and cool, untainted and untampered, oddly clear of the pollution you might expect. In the sun, the birds trill and the water sparkles. In the rain, the frogs sing and mist sits heavy on the water’s surface. During the day, you’ll hear the buzzing of bees and see a rainbow of butterflies. During the night, you’ll hear the chorus of crickets and see the glow of the fireflies blinking in perfect time. The animals that gather at the river know it to be a haven, and the river welcomes all of them with open arms. Those who stumble upon this place might call it magic. Those who know how to find it know that it is.

Which makes it the perfect spot.

Jim clutches tightly onto Douxie, arms wrapped around his shoulders and neck, tail wrapped around so that Douxie’s carrying it in his arms. Neither is very happy with the arrangement.

“I swear to god if you drop me–”

“The more you complain, the more I’m tempted!”

Claire laughs from beside the two, though she hasn’t truly stopped since she was briefed on the situation.

“It’s not funny!” Jim finds himself once more protesting.

“Oh, it definitely is,” Claire says. “Although I won’t lie, I’m kinda into the merman thing.”

“Really?” Jim asks.

“Can you wait to flirt until I’m not carrying the Not-So-Little Mermaid here?” Douxie asks.

“Then just put me in the water already!”

Douxie walks over to the very edge of the river, though not without considerable strain (“Jesus Christ, why the fuck do you weigh so much more with a tail!?!”). He then turns around and drops Jim’s tail. With that sudden weight pulling him down, Jim loses his grip on Douxie and falls backward into the river.

The first thing he notes is that as soon as his head breeches the surface, there’s a crawly sensation across the sides of his neck that makes him shiver uncomfortably until he realizes that he’s breathing properly – it appears he got gills as well as a tail. It’s an odd sensation, breathing underwater, a totally alien one that he has to nearly force himself to do, every instinct yelling at him not to breathe in. He finds it’s easier when he doesn’t think about it, though, so he does his best to focus elsewhere.

As such, the second thing is that he can see perfectly underwater, the sensation no different than seeing on land. There’s no sting of water in his eyes or distortion of what he’s seeing, it feels exactly the same. Looking up at the surface, there’s a weird moment where he could swear that he’s looking up at the surface of a river rushing over him and looking from outside of it, rather than looking up at the surface of a river he’s within. Once he gets over the weirdness, though, he finds himself fascinated with the new world he finds himself in. Turns out that seeing things from below the surface is much, much different from seeing from above it. Even the colors seem different, brighter, deeper, richer.

Which leads him to the third thing – he was right, in sunlight, his scales practically sparkle, light bouncing off them like it does the very water. The shades of blue shift and dance along his tail in a new vibrance, and even his fins seem to glow, the sunlight shining through the translucent material and exposing every shift in the gradient, casting a shifting blue shimmer on the bottom of the river.

He cuts gracefully through the flowing water, marveling at how powerful his tail actually is, propelling smoothly through the water much faster than he anticipated for how leisurely he feels like he’s swimming. The native fish – rainbow trout, minnows, coho salmon, all in a truly remarkable abundance – dart and float around him with little care, going about their business like there wasn’t a freaking merman swimming around with them.

And the fourth, well …

The fourth is that this is the perfect opportunity.

Douxie and Claire stand at the edge of a nearby bank, both looking into the river, trying and failing to spot Jim – he bets the way his tail reflects light nearly identically to how water does helps this – which allows him to approach undetected.

The shriek Douxie lets out when Jim bursts from the water and grabs his ankles to pull him in is one that Jim will forever carry close to his heart.

Ah, revenge is sweet.

///

Back at home, he finds himself set up once again in the tub, though now Claire’s sitting with him while Douxie finishes mixing up the potion in the kitchen.

“You know, maybe you could take it easy on Douxie,” Claire says.

“What? He turned me into a fish!”

“Yeah, but it was intended to help you,” Claire says. “And even though his small gesture turned into a mess, I rather think you just might have enjoyed yourself at the river.”

He crosses his arms and sighs. “Maybe just a bit …”

A thrill shoots up his spine at the sudden sensation of Claire's fingers brushing across the exposed scales of his lower tail.

“Maybe I should have him turn me into a mermaid for an afternoon,” Claire muses. “I wonder what my tail would look like.”

“Probably purple,” Jim says. “Although I would suggest you already be in water – it was a bitch getting up here and now my favorite pants are gone.”

“You know, you could’ve called me sooner and had me portal you up here in the first place,” she says and Jim stops short. He then facepalms, the smack of his palm against his forehead loud enough to bounce back a couple of times. Why didn’t they think of that!?

“Because you’re both idiots,” Claire says.

“Hey!”

“But you’re my idiot, and I love you very much,” she says, leaning over to give him a placating kiss.

“Alright, got it!” Douxie says, booting the bathroom door open with his foot, holding an overfull glass carefully in both hands. Inside, that light pinkish-purple liquid seems to glow, almost like there’s glitter floating around in it.

“And I just drink it?” Jim asks.

“Yep,” Douxie confirms holding it out for Jim to gingerly take. “And you gotta drink it all, or else you might end up with scaly feet or leftover gills.”

“I mean, gills could be handy,” Jim says.

“Drink,” Douxie says, unimpressed. But then he adds, “I will warn you, though, this could hurt. I would recommend drinking as fast as possible so that it’s not slow and agonizing.”

Jim takes a tentative sip and finds he doesn’t quite know what to make of the taste. It’s this weird mixture of citrus, metal, fresh soil, and something almost like grass but a little sweeter. Then he downs the glass as best he can, having to stop two or three times to take a gulp of air.

Once it’s all gone, he hands the glass back to Douxie, who sets it by the sink. At first, he feels nothing. It goes on long enough that he’s wondering if it worked or not, but then his stomach cramps harshly, makes a horrific gurgling noise, and pain arcs down his spine and concentrates in his hips. It’s enough to white out his vision, but it’s there and gone faster than he can let out a scream.

Looking down, he sighs in great relief at the sight of his legs.

Thank fuck.

And that’s when it registers that he’s totally naked.

He yanks his knees up to his chest with an embarrassed yelp, his face burning a bright scarlet.

“Oh, come on,” Douxie says, “it’s nothing neither of us hasn’t seen before.”

“Excuse me?” Jim squeaks.

“I have all the same parts as you and have lived through several eras of communal bathing,” Douxie says. “And if you’re trying to tell me you and Claire haven’t fooled around at least a little, I’m going to call you a dirty liar.”

“He has a point,” Claire says, stifling an amused giggle.

“Will one of you just get me some fucking pants!?”

#mermay #mermay 2023 #tales of arcadia #jim lake jr #hisirdoux casperan

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vriah · 2 years

Text

It’s interesting that the three errant dreams Morpheus needs to track down in the second half of the season are identified as part of the Major Arcana, a title that is heavily associated with tarot. The Major Arcana is often meant to represent our journeys throughout life, to tell a story. And the way that Morpheus interacts with these three dreams, and what they represent to him, also mirrors the most basic tarot spread - three cards: what was, what is, and what will be. The past, the present, and the future.

The Past

Gault’s representation as the Past is conveyed through both Gault's desire to change and Morpheus’ rejection to it. She wants to be a dream instead of a nightmare. But it’s not a narrative accident that she is a nightmare. “A Nightmare’s purpose is to reveal a dreamer’s fears, that they may face them.” Morpheus is being forced to face both his fear of change and his fear of abandonment in this conversation. It hurts that nearly everyone left the Dreaming. It hurts to acknowledge that his own actions in the past have inspired fear rather than loyalty. He rejects his own capacity to change, and he reacts to Gault’s dreams in the same way that he reacts to Hob’s friendship - with fear and anger.

He rejects, and punishes (though obviously to much different degrees), both Hob and Gault for their desires because to accept them would be to admit to his own desires.

(As an aside, I haven’t read the comics yet, but I have stumbled into some spoilers - knowing the very little I know about major events at the end of the comic series, I wonder how much Gault’s words, “I had no wish to rule. I merely wished to be a Dream and not a Nightmare,” are also a reflection of Morpheus’ desires.)

The Present

Fiddler’s Green is a reflection of Morpheus’ desire to experience humanity, and it’s interesting the little tidbits we get throughout the arc that tells us what that means.

The first is, of course, Hob: the only thing Morpheus wants from Hob is to know about his experiences, what kind of life he chooses to live when there’s no longer the limitation of death.

The library in the Dreaming has every story ever written or that will be written, Dream is the Prince of Stories. How are we introduced to Gilbert? He got caught up in a book.

Gilbert is the embodiment of compassion and a sense of adventure - Morpheus calls him the heart of the Dreaming, and Gilbert gently corrects him. He has the braincell self-awareness to understand that Morpheus himself is the heart of the Dreaming, that all of the Dreams and Nightmares are a reflection of some part of him.

“When a human is at the center of the Dreaming, is it not to remind us that we exist because humans dream? Not the other way around? The miracle of humanity itself should always be more vivid to us than any marvels of power.” How soon was Unity born after Dream walked out on Hob? I’m sure it was a decade or two later, but still. Your repression is literally causing cosmic natural disasters, Dream.

The way this arc starts with Death sharing the love she has for humanity with Dream and pushing him towards Hob bookended with Gilbert’s compassion for Rose and humanity in general and his theory about the Vortex. Dream: “I have no idea what you’re trying to tell me.”

The Future

The confrontation between Morpheus and the Corinthian - *chef's kiss*. There were so many double meanings in EVERYTHING they said to each other.

“You were my masterpiece. A dark mirror made to reflect everything humanity will not confront.” A dark mirror of everything YOU won’t confront either, MORPHEUS.

“I contain the entire collective unconscious. Without my rules, it would consume me. Humanity would be consumed.” You made this guy with THREE MOUTHS, Dream. The dichotomy of both wanting a taste of what humanity has to offer vs. your fear of being consumed by it. Will you please go to therapy.

“Next time I make you, you will not be so flawed, and petty, little Dream.” I see you, foreshadowing! I see you.

Renew the show so Tom Sturridge can make me ugly cry, Netflix.

Also, going through Dream’s confrontations with his own creations made it blindingly obvious why Desire is the Greater Scope Villain of this arc. Dream heavily rejects pretty much every single thing he could possibly want in these episodes - and gets real petty when he’s actually confronted about it. I can’t imagine how violently repressing your own wants and needs might affect your relationship with your sibling who is literally Desire. It couldn’t possibly have any negative repercussions at all, I’m sure.

#the sandman #dream of the endless #the corinthian #gault #fiddlers green #morpheus #sandman spoilers #sandman #long post #I feel like I’m only scratching the surface #I need to get my hands on the comics

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bijoumikhawal · 2 months

Text

Bite the Hand That Starves You: Chapter Eight

Fic as of the chapter contains: discussion of abortion, references to drug use, intersex and trans characters, torture/graphic violence, colonialism and its aftermath, implied sexual violence, disassociation, kidnapping, explicit sexual content

Kardasi: -ijje: an affectionate Kardasi suffix. One adds it to a shortened version of a name. It is inappropriate to use this for a person you aren't very close to.

Whoo, final chapter! The sex scene here is the section that starts with "Garak had wanted to be alone, Julian guessed."

---

“We're within range to transport.” Garak rolled his shoulders, sitting up. “Alright. Do you have any questions about the sensor scrambler, or anything else I'm leaving with you?”

“I don't know if you should be going alone.”

“That's a no, then, I take it. I can't explain your presence if I don't. At best, Lokar will deny any knowledge of Dr. Bashir.” Garak began patching in a comms signal. “Besides, if I know Lokar- and I do- he'll try to sabotage the ship. Someone needs to keep an eye on it. And you have 15 seconds before they start getting video of this room.”

Sisko narrowed his eyes, but left quickly. Garak suspected there'd be… an interesting debriefing, after this.

Sisko had no qualms about strong arming others for a good cause, but he rarely appreciated it himself.

Garak was put through to a secretary he'd never seen before first, standing over the shoulder of a traffic controller. “Ship 5371-B, state your purpose. You are not scheduled to be here, and without good reason and authorization, you will be subject to detention until trial.”

Garak smiled. “Of course. Tell Barkan Lokar that Elim Garak has come to pay him a visit.”

She gave no sign of recognition. “What nonsense is that? Elim Garak is not on our list of those with authorized access.”

“-if you tell him that,” Garak said, cutting off her next sentence, “I think you'll find I have an appointment. And do tell him it was very rude to schedule one without asking me about it first.”

She bent and pressed some keys on the console, sighing. Garak felt the shift in gravity and momentum as a tractor beam took hold. “I hope detention is worth your little prank, sir.” The video switched off. Presumably, she was double checking his statement.

Typically a secretary would not be immediately available to traffic control. Barkan had not mentioned him by name, but clearlh he'd told his staff to expect someone. This was going well, so far.

Garak got himself a glass of rokassa juice.

The video came back on, though the tractor beam didn't turn off. Garak expected as much- odds were they'd set up a stasis lock, or potentially tow it into dock. The secretary was good. Her face betrayed no sense of shame or embarrassment. “Get on the transporter pad and you'll be beamed in.”

Garak bowed his head to her with a smile. “Thank you.”

Barkan and a helmeted guard were waiting for him. Garak gave the latter a curious look. “Updating the uniform, are we?”

Occasionally Cardassian units used helmets, but they didn't look like this, with a full face cover- giving no indication of who was underneath. “Something like that. Why don't you sit, Elim? It's been so long since we talked.”

Garak did take the offered seat. “Has it.”

“Within the bounds of the Union, I mean.” Barkan amended his statement. “There's something freeing about being here instead of on enemy territory, isn't there?”

“I don’t know. The line designating “the Union” and “enemy territory” simply passed over me one night- I didn't find much difference in how I spoke in the evening or the morning that bookended it.”

“How about the evening and the morning that bookended the last time we spent a night together?”

Garak let himself tense. Better to make Barkan think he really had the advantage, to let him revel in it. "I was interrogated after, you know. I imagine you find that funny."

Barkan laughed. "You make me so cruel in your imagination, Elijje. Sometimes I worry I won't meet your expectations, and leave you disappointed."

"I find you meet them effortlessly."

Barkan sat, resting his head in his hand. "You're wanting your Terran doctor back, I take it. Have you ever noticed how similar they look to Bajorans? It's uncanny."

Garak rolled his thumb over the transmitter in his pocket. "They also look much like Vulcans. I wouldn't have come for anything else, Barkan."

"So we're back to first name basis, then." Barkan smiled. "Perhaps you'll be amenable to my suggestion, then."

Garak didn't bother to respond.

Barkan's mouth twisted. "Obviously, I don't want your doctor. He means less than nothing to me. Palandine has… gone missing, while I've been away. And as I've made clear, I do not consider our partnership annulled."

Garak had long suspected such was the case with Palandine. His few contacts didn't run in her circles, but they had heard nothing of her- and no news had remarked on Kel's emergence party. A girl of her standing would have a public one, and to not have it would normally make the news as well. The confirmation made his stomach drop all the same. It dropped further knowing their disappearance had not, as he had assumed, been at the military's direction.

"My brother died in the war with the Federaji, as you know. I am the last Lokar."

Garak flexed his hand in his pocket. It was a quiet admission regarding Kel, but a quiet admission was still terrifying. "It always comes back to this with you."

"I can end your exile."

Garak’s tongue stuck.

Barkan smiled. "Yes, even considering that incident on Bajor."

Garak centered himself in his mind. The cost of ending his exile this way was being alone with Barkan. Without the Order behind him. And if he struggled to conceive… Lokar would not examine himself. Besides, he surely wanted revenge.

But, to be on Cardassia again… and he still had contacts outside the Order… he could even find Palandine, he was smarter than whoever Central Command had assigned to look for her.

If it was Tain before him, he knows he wouldn't bother weighing the options. No matter what he'd asked, Garak would do.

He will still have to earn Tain’s forgiveness if he accepts. Until then, he will still treat Garak as a traitor and enemy. And Garak knows- Tain prides himself on outliving his enemies.

“You seem overwhelmed.” Barkan stepped behind Garak, squeezing his shoulder ridges- not in a way appropriate to do in one's office. “I'll let you sleep on it, hm?”

“In a cell?”

“Hardly.” Barkan’s grip eased, hands sliding down Garak’s shoulders. “Second. Show Elim to our guest quarters.” The helmeted guard nodded.

It was a cell. A comfortable cell (not silk quilt comfortable), the one you got when you fucked the warden, but a cell nonetheless. He couldn't leave, after all.

But if he was smarter than Barkan, he could get out. And if he could get out, he could trust himself to take the deal and come out on top.

---

Julian laid on the floor of his cell, pressing his swollen cheek to the cold tiles.

After Lokar was satisfied with himself, the helmeted guard took him back here. According to his internal clock, it was well into the night.

He turned, giving his the other side of his face a chance with the tile. Left-down, left-up, right-up...

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of feet.

Earlier, a medic had come to see him, and promptly left upon being satisfied that Julian's injuries wouldn't kill him. He'd expected to be left alone for some time after that- it had only been three hours.

Julian kept still, closing his eyes most of the way.

The security field's hum ceased abruptly. Whoever it was walked in, stopping by his hip- Julian could just make out the toe of a uniform boot. Not the medic again, then, or anyone else interesting.

"Preparing for death." The helmeted guard muttered to himself. Julian heard him sling his rifle onto his back, out of immediate reach.

Nothing for it.

Julian braced his arm against the floor and swung his legs up and forward, catching him below the knee.

It wasn't his best, but it worked- knocking the guard off balance and having him flail a bit, hands away from his gun.

Julian got up, grabbing the rifle and strap. It wasn't that hard to tear the two apart- there was decent give, and the snapshot unfastened easily.

The guard spun on his heel. Julian hit his side with the rifle, between his ribs. Unfazed, the guard grabbed Julian by his shirt and hauled him forward. Julian hit him on the side of the head with the rifle, then jabbed him in the front of his neck with his elbow.

The helmet was more about secrecy than armour. The guard grunted in pain. Julian hit him again, then threw the rifle, skittering, across the room.

The helmeted guard slammed him against the wall. Julian grabbed for his throat, shaking off the dizziness.

At first the guard ignored it, slamming him again. Julian's grip did not break.

It was a common misconception that you couldn't strangle a Cardassian, because of the shape of their cervical vertebrae. It was certainly near impossible to break a Cardassian's neck- the force required would decapitate most. But strangulation simply required one to know where to put pressure- just below the corners of the jaw.

Two more slams, a little more panicked, then the guard grabbed his wrists, trying to break his grip.

This wasn't the time to worry about being found out.

Julian threw the guard to the floor once he slumped against him and began stripping his uniform off.

If nothing else, he could get word back to Deep Space Nine about where exactly he was- though Barkan wasn't too unlikely of a who, narrowing things down still would take time, and wouldn't help them much. It wasn’t exactly easy to get prisoners out of the Union even during scheduled exchanges.

The fit wasn't terrible. Fortunately, most Cardassians were Julian’s height, or a bit taller.

Now he just had to hope Second was the one monitoring his cell.

He pulled Second under his cot, so it wouldn't be too obvious who was laying on the floor looking in from outside. Pressing a fob hidden in Second's pocket rematerialized the security field.

Julian took a second to breathe, and turned. Would he be able to send a message from Barkan's office? That was where he knew to go- if nothing else, it'd be safer than wandering around.

Julian adjusted the strap of the rifle, and began heading for the first locked door. Before he even got there, he ran into trouble- not for himself, thankfully.

The first tell was that the lights were darkened- someone had cut the power here. Julian steeled himself, pressing onwards.

Garak was a welcome sight, even when fighting a guard by himself. Neither paid him attention- Garak was focused on winning, and the guard had his back to Julian.

Julian had never seen Garak get physical while in his right mind before. During his withdrawal- well. It hadn't come down to it, but Julian had been afraid of hurting him precisely because Garak was too strong to easily subdue.

The guard lost.

Garak faced him, and stood, approximating a stance. "Well, Second. I didn't expect a friend of Barkan’s to be so chivalrous as to wait his turn."

Julian took off the helmet and allowed Garak’s genuine surprise to warm him.

"Doctor." Garak stared a moment longer. "I was coming to get you- but it seems you only needed some help, hm?"

Julian touched the bruises on his cheek. "These are from earlier, actually."

Garak raised his brow ridges. "What a busy week you've had."

---

Julian had let Garak take the lead on their detour, though he wasn't entirely happy about it. He said nothing, but it showed in his posture.

Garak had never been to this particular prison before, but he was familiar with the particulars of their construction. Seperate maintainence corridors with manual locks were necessary- not too unlike the station's, though with more vertical space.

"May I see that?" Garak held out a hand beside him, eyeing the lock. Julian handed him the rifle.

Breaking it was a little louder than Garak would have liked, but there was nothing to be done about it.

Garak had Julian slip inside before him, and urged him to walk a few meters before leaning against the wall to rest.

“You don't seem surprised to see me.”

Julian looked up, having chosen to sit on the floor. “Should I be?”

“We fought the last time we talked.”

Julian managed not to laugh, but couldn't help a smile. “Garak, anyone could tell that fight wasn't about me.”

Garak narrowed his eyes in slight annoyance. Yes, it hadn't been his best showing.

Julian looked down. "Besides, practically speaking, there's not many people who would get here so quickly. The rest of the senior staff, you, Odo... you're about it."

And it hadn't been so long that a quick rescue was utterly improbable to him, compared to drawn out negotiations, or no rescue at all.

"I presume I make that list because of my connection to Barkan. After all, compared to the rest, my qualifications are lacking." Lying was always easy for Garak, even silly, obvious lies.

Julian looked up again, this time serious. "Barkan isn't going to leave it at this. He knows where you are." He stood.

“I know.”

“So we can't just escape.” The hall was narrow, and Julian’s expression was made all the more intense this close up.

“What else can we do?” Garak raised his eye ridges. “I got caught trying to get to you. You only haven't gotten caught yet because you got lucky with the uniform and you have decent aim. Do you think assassinating a warden is a spur of the moment decision?”

“What's your plan, then?” Julian didn't hide his frustration.

“To get out of here alive, just like it was when I beamed down. We are in his territory, doctor. He has the advantage. That's why you were brought here. I am far safer on the station than just about anywhere else in the quadrant.”

Julian covered his eyes with his hands, frustrated. Garak, being the one who lived this careful balance, had a point. Even if Julian didn't like it.

Garak took his transmitter out of his pocket and began adjusting the dials on it.

Julian looked up again, probably in response to the clicking Garak himself only barely heard. “What's that?”

“A transmitter. We'll have ten minutes to talk when it's activated.”

Julian stared at him. “To who?”

“Commander Sisko took your disappearance personally.”

“Ah.” Julian paused, clearly reasoning through it. “By himself?”

“He didn't want anyone else in trouble if things went poorly. I only barely convinced him to stay on the shuttle.” Garak stopped for a moment. “The only things of use on you are that uniform and rifle, correct?”

“More or less.”

Garak nodded to himself and hit the last button. “Commander, can you hear me?”

There was a slight crackle on the other end. “I can hear you. Do you have Dr. Bashir?”

It'd ended up more the other way around- “I'm here.”

“I take it Lokar isn't simply handing you over.”

“No. We're going to need to break out.”

A moment of silence. “Alright. What are we working with?”

“I've got a uniform with a helmet and a rifle. And I stole some gloves from the medic who they had look at me earlier.” Julian shifted to rest against the wall.

“I have everything I beamed down with: this transmitter, a spare knife, nothing else interesting.”

“Did you find an angle with Lokar?”

“No.”

Julian looked at him with a tinge of suspicion. It almost made Garak feel better. “Nothing?”

“He wants revenge. Unfortunately, I can't give that to him- and if I did, I don't think he'd let you go anyways.”

Julian accepted that, but his brow remained slightly furrowed.

“I don’t think your suspicion of possible sabotage is wrong, Garak, but so far nothing has happened up here. They did weaken the strength of the tractor beam, but that’s all. And judging from what I saw of the engine earlier, it won’t be able to break the hold on it’s own.”

“That won’t be a problem. Remember what I told you about the triangular device?"

“The one you clearly soldered together on the way over? Yes.”

“In…” Garak checked the time on the transmitter. “Half an hour, attach it to the spot I told you about. You won't need to worry about the tractor beam once its active.”

“That's me taken care of. How are you two getting out of there? You don't know where the transporter room is.”

“No need.” Garak said quickly. “We just need to get to Barkan’s office. They beamed me directly down there. Many in administrative positions have the transporter block stripped from their offices for convenience. It seems he picked up the habit.”

“Do you know how to get there?”

“Of course,” overlapped with Julian’s “Yes.”

“He had me brought in a few times to harass me.” Julian gave as explanation.

“That explains your face,” Garak said to himself, then spoke louder, “Once we're in, I can signal you on the other transmitter. The transporter controls aren't too different on the shuttle compared to what you're used to. There shouldn't be any other life signs to be confused by once the signal goes up.”

“And if you don't get there?”

“It's still what we agreed to on the station.”

“Alright. I'll be waiting for both of you.”

Garak ended the transmission, looking down the corridor as he put away the transmitter.

“What did you agree to?”

Garak looked at him, managing not to startle at Julian speaking so close to his ear that he could feel his breath across it. “My dear doctor. What do you think?”

---

They couldn't get to Lokar's office from the maintenance corridor, unfortunately, but it did let them bypass most of the locked doors.

Garak peered out in the hallway first. "Clear, so far."

Julian put the helmet back on before stepping out after him. There was another door, a few meters away, not locked, and then they'd be at Barkan’s office.

Foot steps sounded. Quickly, they turned to each other- Julian grabbing Garak roughly, and Garak putting up a theatrical struggle.

It was one of the normal guards. He laughed, amused. “I heard the warden had a guest. Did he not like his accommodations?”

“Not at all.” Garak snarled. “One is hardly a guest in a prison."

Julian jerked on his arms, pulling him down the hall.

“I am not going back in there!” Garak was testing the limits of of the strength Julian normally allowed himself to use, but not too badly. “Central Command will be hearing about this!”

Julian raised his eyebrows. Banking on the guard not knowing how nonsensical that statement was wouldn't have been his first choice. He kept pulling on Garak, they were almost to the door, and-

“Second, since when do you wear gloves?”

Julian kept pulling on Garak. He'd hardly premeditated all this- he wouldn't be able to imitate Second’s voice on his first try.

The guard raised his rifle. “Second.”

Julian stopped. They did not have time to get to the door before the guard fired his gun.

Unfortunately, the very act gave him away.

“Well, at least he won't be such a smug bastard after this.” The guard advanced.

Garak was clearly thinking too much to admonish him for the potentially fatal error.

“Take off the helmet or I'll shoot the other one.”

Slowly, Julian did so.

“Ah. That's why you're a special interest prisoner.” He laughed.

Julian hadn't turned around yet, but it sounded like he'd walked until he was just out of arms reach.

“You do know he was planning to go back to the warden, don't you?”

An odd look entered Garak’s eye, then- he yanked the helmet out of Julian’s hand and lunged forward, pushing Julian aside. He swung down first, nearly knocking the rifle from the guards hands, then at his head.

There was a loud crunch.

Julian grabbed his own rifle from its holstered position and aimed. His parents had gotten their money's worth. Sometimes he was even glad of it.

Garak stalked back to him, pulling the helmet down over his head.

“You aren't taking his…”

“We can't shoot our way out, doctor. We have to keep up the charade successfully if we run into someone else.”

Julian felt a hot rush of shame, but Garak seemed content to leave it at that. He pushed past Julian and through the door.

---

The hall to Barkan’s office had not been busy before, so Garak didn't expect to see anyone. At the same time, the absence of others had him on the knife's edge of aware and nervous.

"You didn't happen to get Second's access fob, did you?" Garak asked.

"Actually..." Julian stuck his hand in his pocket. "I might have." He handed something over.

Garak looked at the polymer in his hand.

There was such a thing as too easy.

There was, also, no other good path out of here. He'd failed the parameters of his own test- he couldn't stay, take his chances with Barkan, and leave Julian in custody. Especially not after Julian had attacked Second.

Garak pressed the fob up against the door's scanner.

The door opened to a dark room. The power hadn't been cut- if it had, the door wouldn't have opened, and there would have been emergency lights. Garak shut the door behind them and pressed the button on his transmitter, letting Sisko know they'd reached their goal.

Julian stood in place, shifting his weight. "Something isn't right."

Garak didn't reply. Hopefully, this part would be fast, and the rest would catch up with them after they were on the runabout-

The door creaked behind them.

Garak kept still as light cut across the floor.

"Second? Did our guest get antsy in his quarters?"

Barkan’s tone was easy. He assumed he was still in control.

Garak saw Julian’s fingers tighten on the rifle. Don't, he thought, wishing it could be heard. You won't be able to commit. The fallout will spin out of control immediately. Don't.

Luckily, Second was a somewhat quiet man, and Barkan had interpreted the finger tightening as a "yes, something like that". He circled around them, sitting at my desk. "Am I lucky, Elijje? Have you reached a conclusion about my proposal?"

A good Cardassian doesn't believe in fickle luck, Garak thought. "Perhaps."

Barkan’s smile broadened. Naturally, he assumed his offer had been too tempting for Garak to refuse him. "Are you always shy at times like these?"

Garak almost laughed at him. He'd been acting both times- was Barkan not suspicious of the first?

He replied easily, "Perhaps not all of me has outgrown being Ten Lubak."

There was no way to signal to Sisko that they'd been interrupted. He would know soon enough, in any case. Julian remained tense beside him.

Barkan let out a soft laugh. "Ten Lubak could be rather shy, couldn't he? Back then, that was... alluring."

At what point, Garak wondered. Their first two meetings had been marked by scorn.

The trouble with transporters was, without a badge, the operator had to select individuals manually, going off life signs- species, age, height, and weight. Barkan was taller, but otherwise, he and Garak had similar readings.

Barkan's desk terminal beeped, indicating an incoming call. Barkan pressed the button to answer it.

"Warden, that Federaji prisoner you were interested in has escaped. We just found Second on the ground in his cell."

Barkan and Garak both reacted quickly. Barkan lunged for Julian, and Garak lunged at Barkan, throwing him back into the wall.

Garak’s stomach lurched, and he had enough time to be grateful Sisko had chosen correctly even with unfamiliar controls before the sight of Barkan’s office faded.

He and Julian had been of the same mind, it seemed, as each had a hand on the other, keeping them supported as they rematerialized on the runabout.

Sisko turned his chair to face them. “Next time I'm bringing the Defiant.”

Julian took off the helmet and looked at Sisko. “What do you mean next time?”

"It's good to be prepared, doctor." Garak let go of him. "Thank you for all your help- I'll take over here for awhile, commander." He leaned over the console. "You and Dr. Bashir should get some rest."

---

Garak had wanted to be alone, Julian guessed. And he was- for as long as it took Julian to take a nap.

He woke up to the sound of Sisko getting out of his bunk. "Commander?"

"Ah, I'm sorry, Julian. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"It's fine. I expect you're probably going to order me away from work when we get back anyway." Julian sat up. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine. However, I expect Garak didn't sleep during the time he beamed down, and I know he didn't sleep beforehand. I'm going to relieve him in a bit."

"In a bit?"

"I'm going to shower first."

Julian got out of bed. "Don't use the water setting. I'll go tell him."

Garak leaned over the console, carefully going over every readout he could get displayed, it seemed.

"Sisko's in the shower. He wants to take over once he's..." Julian trailed off.

Garak had turned to look at him. Very... particularly. Julian’s hand had come to rest on the back of the pilot's chair. Garak’s own hand crept up to cover it. "Yes, doctor?"

"Uhm. He'll be out in a little. I warned him off using the water setting. I know the temperature can be difficult." Julian backed up a bit, his mouth dry and face growing warm. "He had the top bunk, but we can swap if you want."

Garak kept staring a moment. "I'll decide after I get a look at them."

Julian nodded, and retreated to the sleeping cabin.

He laid back down on the bottom bunk, facing the wall. His heartbeat was fast and his cheeks stayed flushed with heat, even as he heard Sisko pass behind him into the cockpit, the door opening, closing, and opening. And closing.

He was able to feel that stare again.

The mattress dipped behind him as Garak slipped under the covers. Things were quiet for a moment.

“You said you didn't want anything else, that night. Have you never wanted anything else of me, doctor?”

“Garak,” Julian started, then cut himself off with a gasp as Garak's hands slipped under his shirt, pulling him close.

“Yes?” Garak

"I- we-"

"Surely, you know why Barkan focused his attention on you, doctor. The conclusions he jumped to the second he saw you."

Julian closed his eyes. "Yes, I suppose it's rather ridiculous." A faint dissuasion.

Garak was quiet for a moment. "To be condemned for something you haven't done yet, yes, I suppose it is."

Julian opened his mouth, then closed it. He turned in Garak’s arms to face him.

Garak shifted back slightly. “Just once. We don’t have to think on it ever again.”

Even Julian could appreciate that it was a pretty lie, even if it wasn't a happy one. It was his move- Julian leaned forward, tilting his head to kiss Garak.

"I'm still not safe." Julian reminded him as he broke away.

"How convenient. So am I." Garak nudged Julian onto his back, rising up over him. "It's nice to be on the same page." He pulled Julian’s pajama bottoms down to his knees.

Garak’s gaze had dimmed in intensity somewhat, but Julian still felt pinned. It wasn't exactly a bad feeling. One only had to look down to confirm that. He kicked his trousers the rest of the way off and began pulling at Garak’s tunic- fair was fair.

Garak let him, but pulled his own trousers down. He leaned down, blanketing Julian and pressing him onto the mattress. Garak kissed him as he shifted into what Julian guessed was a more comfortable position.

Julian’s cock slipped between Garak's thighs, and groaned into the other man's mouth as he jerked upwards against him. Noticing, Garak pressed his thighs together. Julian let out a choked moan. Apparently Garak had been anticipating this for some time, as the soft flesh between his legs was slick.

Garak grabbed Julian’s knee and pulled it to the side, spreading his legs apart.

Julian broke the kiss. "Garak-? Oh!" His head fell back as Garak- it was, what he could best describe as a thrust, with Julian's cock trapped between his thighs. Julian grabbed his hips, letting out a string of breathy moans as he tried to meet Garak, thrust for thrust.

He'd certainly never tried intercrural like this.

Garak’s teeth grazed his earlobe, making Julian flinch away.

Garak pulled back, and Julian stroked his shoulder, trying to soothe him.

"It's alright, you just- startled me." Cardassian front teeth were sharper than many other species, despite not looking so obvious.

Julian’s hand tightened as Garak's teeth met his skin again, this time the soft flesh neat the hinge of his jaw.

No longer occupied by kissing, Julian looked down at the shoulder in his grasp, watching the deepening blue color spread over the ridge, and the shift of muscle under the skin as Garak kept thrusting against him.

Garak's teeth traveled down his neck- never biting down fully, as Julian half expected. Only grazing, nipping- almost like a tease.

Julian’s cock slipped out from between Garak's thighs as Garak groaned into his collarbone. A rush of warm wetness spilled forth, and Julian felt something new sliding out of Garak, prodding against his stomach.

Garak’s breaths changed as he ground his cock against Julian’s. Julian could feel ridges, though instead of the scales he was used to, they were of soft flesh that reminded him of the inside of a body. It also felt teasing- brushing against his cock, but more forcefully against his stomach, leaving wet trails.

Julian slid a hand down between their bodies, wrapping his hand around both of them.

Garak shuddered above him, halting for a moment before fucking into Julian’s hand, against his cock, with renewed vigor.

---

Garak would die before saying so, but having had his cycle hit its peak after the removal of the wire violently confronted him with the fact that while he certainly felt arousal, orgasm carried shockingly limited pleasure for him now. Perhaps it was temporary.

Pleasure hadn't really been the point, of course. And the rest of it had still been nice enough.

They had had to part to clean up- tired as they both still were, neither had really wanted to go to sleep like that. Julian was in his arms now facing the wall of the bunk in a mirror of before.

Garak had known the vagueries of the human body, but of all the aliens he'd met, he'd never seen one naked before. Some parts were unremarkably similar to other species- the same body hair he could expect from dozens of others, the nipples, the navel indention.

What had stuck him was, though the muscle of Julian's body was lean and hard, his skin was delicate. That the graze of his teeth had caused such a reaction, on unbruised flesh... and of course, the sight of darker bruising on Julian’s face and chest.

He could see the marks he'd left with his teeth now, a few above the collar of Julian’s sleeping clothes. They were superficial enough to hopefully fade over the next few days. Enough not to come up when Julian would surely be physically examined and debriefed regarding Barkan.

Barkan...

“You were thinking about going back to him. Weren't you.” Julian spoke, evidently not asleep. It was almost like the thought had drawn his attention.

A snarled feeling rose in Garak. “Who?”

“Lokar. He offered you something, didn't he?”

There was that infuriating pity again. “It doesn't matter.”

It was quiet for a moment. "Alright."

If Barkan persisted, Garak would refuse. He couldn't rely on himself to deal with the man- he'd proven that twice now. There were other ways back to Cardassia, and this wasn't the first time an opportunity was simply untenable.

He just had to be clever in the future.

#cipher talk #Fic: bite the hand that starves you #ds9 #garashir

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rassilon-imprimatur · 2 years

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Loved The Power of the Doctor 10/10, frenetic and joyful insanity that then somehow becomes a soft spoken open-ending for the entire show (barring the Tennant of course), really happy. Love how peacefully Thirteen went out, loved how open-ended and unspoken Yaz’s departure was. Loved the returns, loved the wank. 10/10. Feels really weird to say goodbye to this era.

Love so much of it is bookended by Dan’s departure? He quickly becomes an afterthought, but I dunno, his “see you later” of a goodbye after deciding to stop avoiding the stark hard work of the real world and “attack it,” it hangs over the whole thing right to he and Graham inviting Yaz to the therapy group.

The Cyber-Masters call back to the Earthshock/Five Doctors David Banks Leader and Cyber-Lieutenant/Deputy. Vain, vengeful, melodramatic, emotional sneer coming through the voice. The Time Lord gore inside still hums and whines with stolen life. I was disappointed their converted planet wasn’t actually Gallifrey, but the idea is still there? The Master’s TARDIS’ core is now the planet’s core, the Qurunx battery enough to power a forced regeneration/TV Movie Body Swap, only be possible with the Eye of Harmony (movie) or “the secrets of Gallifrey” (this episode). Dead Time Lords steering a dead world, a new Mondas, reaching as far back as the Cybermen’s first episode. Ages ago, cloth-faced surgery ghouls, now ornate necrotic royalty. Their rotting castle, their rotting world, hanging over another vestige of imperialism about to violently fall (and for no other real narrative reason other than “Wouldn’t The Daleks and Cybermen All Look Fucking Cool In The Romanov Winter Palace?”).

The Qurunx taking the form of the kid. “... shows us what we instinctively want to protect,” the Doctor says, not realizing she’s speaking mostly of herself. Timeless Child reflection. A mystery of the universe captured and exploited by empire. Etc etc. You know.

The Rasputin plot is nonsense, and that’s the point. The Master is fucking pathetic in this, pitiful. Buzzing with the Cyberium, twitching with suicide, his I CANNOT STAND COMING FROM YOU from The Timeless Children rearing up as a childish schoolboy taunt of I’M GOING TO TURN YOU INTO ME. “But then, you were a rubbish schoolboy, too” Ruth later mocks him. Tegan and Ace won’t be phased, hurling insults back, standing their ground. In a take on the Doctor/Master where the Doctor has no time for him, no patience, all burnt bridges and belittling playing along, no one in the narrative hurts for him, aches for him. He’s a nasty little wet gremlin in this, truly the most mean-spirited possible take on the worst Ainley serials with all of s12′s miserable self-hate. Him dying as Rasputin was peak humiliation. “Don’t force me to go back to being me” and then dying in a Rasputin cosplay. I dunno. Very mean-spirited “we’re fucking done with you, dude,” I like it.

Vinder’s so fucking hot. Sacha was so fucking cute in Jodie’s clothes, his short little Doctor haircut, the clip-on piercings, I couldn’t handle it.

The traitor Dalek bringing up the funniest fanwank loophole to justify its inexplicable radicalization lmao. Kaleds, Daleks, who’s truly the impure race? “Did we never rewrite that constitution?” I got way too fucking excited at the quiet nod to Davros. The ease with which the traitor was caught and exploited makes we wonder how often this actually happens within the race? Especially when’s executed by the deeper, nastier, clean commanders while clearly being a magma damaged worker, a grunt.

The TV Movie Body Swap™ verbatim, ho-lee shit, “Dress for the occasion” quip and everything. God. God. The War Games’ forced regeneration careening into it too. And then the Master Doctor, the Doctor Master, “Introducing Sacha Dhawan as the Doctor,” he just collapses under it? He’s even more sniveling and wet, piling on question marks and scarf and fanwank, blowing on Troughton’s recorder.

GOD!!!!! G O D. The robes far more like the TV Movie, the apocalyptic crossroads with telephone wire, Eight and Seven bickering. Ugh.

I’m so fucking glad I reconnected to the Davison era as hard as I did last year because Tegan and Five’s reunion HURT lmao. “Brave heart.” Loved how EU the implication of Seven and Ace “falling out” was?

Ian and Jo killed me. I like to think the empty chair at the meeting was for Sarah Jane.

#The Power of the Doctor #I've got more thoughts but here's a batch lmao

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basedkikuenjoyer · 1 year

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Eh, 1078's worth it’s own post. We open with an interesting little exchange between Stussy & Sentomaru. The way they talk about the mission and the delicacy has me wondering if at least one big outcome is about to pop off. There’s another reason in this chapter I’m wondering, it’s not even that crazy of a theory. I definitely think it’d be a cool end, Wano’s time hops give the Grand Fleet a lot of time to move in assuming the awakening made Luffy’s vivre card act weird. Capturing Saturn would more than adequately fit the bill for historic proportions.

Of course, this pair having this conversation also is worth pointing out. Sentomaru & Stussy are both figures we’ve pointed out keeping that thematic bleedover from Wano firmly in Kiku’s territory. Look at em side-by-side, I’d say they each serve as a good representation of one of her halves standing alone. We’ll circle back to how that idea bookends.

The fuck Luffy? Just deadass calling Kaku Usopp. Seriously bro...what a heads up move! I mean, gag aside it was quick thinking to both not leave himself 2v1 with CP0 and to account for Zoro’s big weakness. But it is also really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really funny he called Kaku Usopp and Kaku’s just grumbling about it. I couldn’t not mention it. Seriously though, this flashback.

First off, it’s a great quick version of the big idea I’ve been on about. Does that make sense? We’ve had the little breadcrumbs hiding in plain sight. Just like Kanjuro by the end people had actually strung together a few good points about who it was. In essence, what we saw with York is a lot like the structure I laid out. What I’ll say is this though; I just don’t think it’s done. Too truncated. Same logic as getting Vegapunk’s big lore dump out of the way early. Mr. Narrator is coming in to make it very clear we’re not done yet. This is about to pop off into something much bigger. Egghead might be more Punk Hazard-length than Zou, who knows?

This panel is also why I’m excited for the Grand Fleet! Just...does it not feel like the iconic End-of-Dressrosa panel about their future exploits? For the here and now though, of course we do see the traitor plotline ended up being rather straightforward in an interesting way.

Bookends. Much like the angle of starting through Sento/Stussy, York is someone interesting to end on. This last stamp here made her a foil. Oh, so it was the tall, cute unassuming one? The gluttonous, vulgar one who’s goal is the absolute antithesis of Kiku’s egalitarian ethos? I’ll take it.

One Piece is always hard to predict but that seems like an easy way for all of this to end. The scrum goes on a little longer, Robin is moving down to this basement with Chopper so we can confront York easy enough. Kizaru ratchets up the tension but now we are finally ready to face an Admiral. His plan to buy time is thwarted by the arrival of the Grand Fleet demolishing the reinforcements. If we want to, there is ample thematic territory to weave in a new quartermaster orchestrating that. We can see what happened just like we did this chapter or we can finally pull the trigger on the Chekov’s Gun of X Drake’s report. Either way, you have a defeated admiral and potentially a captured Gorosei to cement the Straw Hats as the cream of the crop in all of these worldwide rumblings. In a way that otherwise leaves a completely blank slate to set up whatever we get into from this island on.

#One piece #chapter 1078 #post-wano musings #okiku #sentomaru #stussy #VP York

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azeutreciathewicked · 3 months

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What is Love? (Masters of Sex S1E8 - "Love and Marriage")

I’m currently attempting to write some type of a fluffy, romantic fic in my writers group as part of a challenge. This has in fact been very challenging for me, because it’s forced me to face the fact that the cues that “normal” people find romantic are not only not romantic to me, but pretty aversive.

Flowers, candy, gifts, rings, fancy vacations, etc. — all of those feel like empty, transactional gestures, or emotional manipulation. To me, they are empty.

And it’s left me wondering, what do I find romantic, or at least stimulating in an affectionate way?

Then I watched Masters of Sex. And specifically, S1 E8: “Love and Marriage”. And I was bowled over by the expressions of love I saw in it -- all coming from Bill Masters towards Virginia in the context of their work. (Spoilers for this episode, references to previous episodes, mention of later episodes)

(This is all my own opinion and analysis based on my own experiences and contexts as a neurodiverse agender intellectual with cPTSD. I wanted to share some of why this show is emotionally comforting on a certain level in a way that other media aren't, even as there are many things to be frustrated about in-show and out-of-show.) One of the things I love about this show is how often they juxtapose multiple people or situations to show contrasts. These juxtapositions often challenge conventional thinking about many concepts or experiences we tend to take for granted or make assumptions about — love and marriage in this episode.

“You can’t have one without the other,” the song declares. Or can you?

Because this episode uses bookends to make its main point about Bill and Virginia, I’ll start with the negative examples first: Austin Langham and Ethan Hass.

Austin (while a very fun character) is an utter cad - fully transactional and manipulative in his dealings, not just with the women he sleeps with, but with his own wife and children. He buys gifts, often not very good ones, to try to curry their favor.

And he nudges Ethan to invest in a large, expensive engagement ring for Vivian Scully, who starts the episode singing the eponymous song and playing housewife. (Love language: gift giving)

Ironically, both Ethan and Vivian are playing their vapid roles in the engagement game, because when he tries to hint that she should dress up for going to a nice place for dinner, Vivian immediately susses out that Hass plans to propose to her. And she immediately launches into an interrogation of what type of ring (presumably diamond?), the cut of the gemstone, etc because that is how you play this game. But is there any actual meaning in this? Not beyond this. We still see Ethan’s hesitation throughout, and Vivian suffers from what I call “empty groom syndrome” - it’s not so much about marrying a particular man, but about “winning” the game and getting the title of “wife” that is sold to her by society as the goal of women everywhere.

We get to see two wives struggling in their marriages - Libby feeling lonely and taking dancing lessons from an attractive Black man who does odd jobs, and Margaret Scully, who struggles with seeing how her husband has no physical or sexual attraction for her.

Barton Scully attempts to act on his (platonic) love for Margaret, seeking out the young man prostitute to engage in some unethical and degrading aversion therapy. It’s demeaning and it’s hurtful, but for Scully, this is how he can demonstrate his love for his wife, whom he knows he has failed. (Love Language: Acts of Service?)

Now let’s come back to Bill and Virginia, who engage in every love language except gift giving.

There are two big story threads for them in this episode: Virginia taking classes on the sly with Dr. DePaul and Bill and Virginia solving the problem of collecting visual data from inside a vagina during orgasm.

Because Virginia is afraid that Bill would be upset or fire her, she doesn’t tell him that she is taking night classes from Dr. DePaul. Bill finds out in a conversation with Lillian, who adds that Virginia is probably her best student.

I’m trying to read Bill’s reaction to this, and it’s some type of surprise with something else. I don’t think he thinks Virginia is stupid (he was tutoring her in anatomy before), so I’m going to go with pleasant surprise (that she’s taking classes) and pride (that she’s kicking actual med students’ asses).

He later confronts Virginia about her classes, but he doesn’t wear his armor, as Scully accused him of in E2: “Bill you put on a suit of armor to attack a plate of whipped cream”. No, he’s soft, and indirect - very out of character for him. But the arms are up - he’s wrapped them tightly around himself.

I’m still trying to figure out the arms. Michael Sheen has two very distinct bits of body language he uses in Season 1 Bill Masters: his “glasses on nose” fidget (whether they are there or not) and his arms wrapped around him.

I noticed three times his arms were wrapped around himself - in the first lab scene, when talking to Virginia about her classes, and then when talking to Dr. DePaul to ask her to inform him if/when Virginia signs up for more classes.

I read the first time as different - he is perched on the desk, relaxed, talking about research with Virginia (his favorite things), and doesn’t seem to be defensive with his arms. But in the other two situations, he very much wraps his arms around himself as protection from… something? (We see later in S2 E3, “Fight,” more about his mentality regarding defense and offense).

I think he’s scared. And vulnerable. Because he’s not on the attack for a change. Because he doesn’t have a goal that he wants and can grab. He wants Virginia’s trust, and he wants to give her the time she needs, and his approval. This is a completely different way of interacting for him that we only see a few times in the early show with certain characters. And he’s afraid of it backfiring, thus the protection.

So when he talks to Virginia, he tries to give her a chance to open up and tell him about the classes. And while she is cautious at first, he puts everything into showing approval and care and interest, and she slowly opens up more.

And he tells her to take the night to study, because obviously that’s what’s important. While he certainly is disappointed in not being able to “do the study” with her that night, he doesn’t seem that broken up about it - because it is a straight up truth in his mind that Virginia is a good student and deserves time to study so she can keep kicking the med students’ asses. He values her education and values her mind and doesn’t hesitate to give her what he can easily give to help that. Even if he is putting on a front of being happy for her and hiding his disappointment, the fact that he is willing to do this should speak volumes to anyone familiar with masking and emotional labor. He’s doing emotional labor for her at the worst, which is huge for this character at this point. (Love Language: Quality Time - for Virginia to study, Words of Affirmation - her education is important and valuable)

In this phase of the show, and the time period, we see NO OTHER MEN valuing women for their intellectual pursuits (and usually no other women either). Bill Masters is the oddity here. Maybe he’s doing it from a type of love for Virginia specifically, but I think it’s the other way around — he loves Virginia because he can see her mind and appreciate it. Intellectual attraction. (I might go so far as to suggest that Bill here could be considered an intellectual flavor of demisexual - as the subtext around his refractory periods indicates)

So what is he doing talking to Lillian later? When he says that he wants to know if Virginia signs up for more classes because she tends to overload her plate. He doesn’t actually say what he intends to do with that information.

He goes from hands in pockets to arms crossed when DePaul speculates that “her course work is getting in the way”, and Bill emphasizes that the study is important.

Then when Lillian says that if she got her credentials, she could just walk away. And he just holds this expression:

I’ve generally noticed that unless he’s under immediate threat or looking at Virginia, he tends to hold his expressions quite a bit (masking?), though you can see the wheels turning behind it.

He just lets Lillian conjecture that he wants to limit Virginia. I don’t think he does, at least at this point. I think that he has seen Virginia in these past episodes taking on too much, and burning herself out trying to care for her kids, do her job, and now take classes. And he legitimately cares about her, and wants to know what’s going on so he can do what he can to help her manage (again, my inference). So why does he let Lillian assume the worst? Because the alternative is to let Lillian know how much he cares about Virginia, and that’s too dangerous. So he lets Lillian paint him as a selfish man to protect the truth. (Love Language: Acts of Service)

Now, the lab scenes and Bill’s refractory period:

Their first significant scene together in the episode is “post-data-gathering” (Love Language: physical touch. See more in Ep. 7), where they discuss how to communicate the impact of their research while in the robes. They both lament how boring talking about cardiac numbers is. Bill checks his stopwatch a couple times. He then moves out to the bed and starts fluffing the pillows and tenderly smoothing them out while talking. (Love Language: Acts of Service)

Shortly after, he stops his timer and announces the end of his refractory period - 16 minutes, 33 seconds.

And then we see this vulnerable look on his face as he looks at Virginia when she doesn’t join him for another “data-gathering session.” But he immediately acquiesces and accepts her “no” quickly and with grace (which is again, something that seems normal to us, or should, but was not always the case back then. Was it his lack of confidence or respect for Virginia? Probably both, but still notable). Also note his body language compared to most men on this show.

We return to this in the end of the episode, after they have solved the problem of collecting visual data from inside a vagina as the owner orgasms. Virginia comments on how she’s an outsider in the class, and an outsider in most places. Bill offers, “But not here” (Love Language: Words of Affirmation), and gives her a look of such open affection it’s overwhelming to see. Also, his voice goes up almost an octave when in “sweet mode” with Virginia, both in talking about her classes and in this scene, crooning in a way we haven’t heard up until now (and didn’t think he was capable of).

He is also in refractory period (checking his stopwatch habitually), and they set up the film and watch it.

He soon announces that his refractory period is over (11 minutes and 3 seconds, shorter than before, possibly coincidental, but I don’t think so), and Virginia jokes about him being aroused by the footage. But that’s not it .He was looking at Virginia when he noticed. It’s about sharing this world first experience with her — that together they made this happen.

“No! It’s not the footage. It’s the fact that we’re the only two people in the world who’ve seen it.” (Love Language: Quality Time? I think this is something more - Shared Accomplishment)

This brings me back to S1 E2 - “Race to Space” - where Virginia looks at her son’s comic about the man in space, all alone. And the show deliberately cuts back to Bill - showing us how alone and isolated he is in his quest for knowledge, and showing us that Virginia sees this too. He is over the moon to have someone who values this work and to share it with. And I think that every other feeling or agenda is simply dragged along with this completely unfamiliar and overwhelming surge of feeling – we’ll see that he doesn’t know how to deal with it in a healthy or well-balanced way, both because he doesn’t have the internal ability to or any social guidance on it.

This is love to me. It’s not the only kind of love. But it is most definitely love in multiple layers and expressions.

Fluffing the pillows with extra care while discussing the mission, because it’s only natural to want your partner comfortable.

Making their priorities your priorities, and trying to be safe enough so they can share them with you.

Seeing them as someone who belongs, taking joy in giving them a place to belong

Being open and joyful about sharing something you did together.

These don’t fit in a jewelry box, and they don’t have a formula. But this is the true joy and love of this episode, and it’s a type of love (along with all the baggage and difficulties) that is at the core of this show between the two main characters.

I get that today it seems weird, but for back then — the sheer love based in respect radiating from Bill throughout this episode towards Virginia is so palpable it makes me emotional. Damn you, Michael Sheen, for turning on “love” like that (see also: Good Omens Aziraphale). And I accept that it may just be me being a weirdo who sees emotional connection in different things (I am prior military, which I learned fucks up your dating life with civilians afterwards in a number of ways).

What makes these so hard to write is that it’s hard to find an easy symbol or script to use as a shorthand. This type of love needs a journey, usually a difficult one - full of loneliness, exclusion, failure, struggle.

This reminds me of another pairing forged in struggle - Logan and Veronica in Veronica Mars (S2 E20 - "Look Who's Stalking")

Logan: I thought our story was epic, you know, you and me.

Veronica: Epic how?

Logan: Spanning years and continents. Lives ruined, bloodshed. EPIC.

Veronica: Come on. Ruined lives? Bloodshed? You really think a relationship should be that hard?

Logan: No one writes songs about the ones that come easy

And before that, Angel and Cordelia, with Kyrumption, which means: "two great heroes come together”. (Joss Whedon terribleness aside, I have to acknowledge this amazing concept).

Fortunately, Bill and Virginia don’t quite have to deal with bloodshed. But the rest? Absolutely.

(Spoilers for the rest of the show)

And they fought each other, oh how they fought each other throughout the show - hurting each other constantly because they felt too much and were scared, and were limited by circumstances in what options they had.

But this is the type of love I can write about, because it matters to me. Because it feels true to me. And it is what I will go back to writing next.

Foreshadowing note:

“Funding, a process that will leave you feeling like the Minotaur in the maze” - Asterion reference? (S2 E7)

#masters of sex #bill masters #michael sheen #lizzy caplan #michael fucking sheen #michael acting choices sheen #masters of sex 0108 #love and marriage #intellectual love #philos

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