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#but from what i've heard about the light novels they are all somehow about him too
olliepurples · 7 months
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potential bsd s5 endings by most -> least interesting
1) some of main cast survive, others die
2) all main cast die
3) all main cast survive individually
4) all main cast survive through a single event (eg. page)
5) all main cast survive through a single event, spongebob timeskip to random flying dude to close out the season
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eoieopda · 1 year
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the one with seokjin, soju, and all the stars in the sky
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Requested by Anon: Kim Seokjin got really drunk on a members-night-out, so his fiancée has to pick his cute, clingy ass up. ft. late-night wake-ups, gn!reader, and a lot of feelings about science. A/N: I accidentally deleted the draft associated with this ask, so now it's a separate post. Sorry for the wait, anon!
When Seokjin left for the evening, he'd placed a kiss on your forehead and a new book in your hands.
The novel in question was some obscure, independently published thing Namjoon had recommended. You'd mentioned it to Seokjin in passing — weeks ago — but hadn't had the downtime to seek it out since. Even if you had somehow carved out a moment to scour the local bookshops, you wouldn't have had the spare hours to immerse yourself in it the way you'd want to.
Not enough to meaningfully discuss its themes with Namjoon, anyway.
But Seokjin was Seokjin. He'd made some secret, mental note about what you said; hunted down that old single-edition book; and come up with a reason to spend his Saturday night elsewhere. He and his friends would get dinner and drinks — you'd get an overdue bubble bath and the solitude necessary to study for your unofficial, impromptu, two-member book club.
And that's precisely how you'd spent your night before tucking yourself into bed at the beautifully reasonable hour of half-past nine.
When your phone went off four hours later, you thought you were dreaming. You squinted at the screen for so long, trying to wrap your brain around the contact information blaring into your bleary eyes, that you almost failed to answer.
"Namjoon?" You croaked, throwing an arm over your eyes to hide from the offensive lamp light beaming off your bedside table. "I'm gonna need, like, a liter of coffee before I can wax poetic about the —"
"Hey, noona, it's Namjoon-ah!" He cut you off before you could finish. If the delayed, rhyming introduction didn't tip you off, the snorting, self-inflicted laughter would have.
Kim Namjoon, the designated dad of the friend group, was irrefutably ripped, zipped, and zooted.
You scrubbed your hand over your face in a futile attempt to stop your forming grin in its tracks. "Your picture popping up on my phone told me as much," You chuckled through your exhaustion, "To what do I owe the pleasure of this wake-up call?"
You heard him shout geonbae and gulp down some sort of shot before he provided you with an answer.
"Sojin has entered the chat," He announced with an absurd, deepened voice. Immediately, he cackled, "Get it? It's a portmanteau of soju and Seokjin, who is shitfaced — anyways, can you come get your man?"
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It took you five minutes to throw on clothes and shuffle out the door to your car. The drive to the bar took only slightly longer, though it was the traffic lights and not the distance that slowed you down.
Unfortunately, twenty years came and went while you tackled the dreaded, subsequent task: parallel fucking parking.
The stress of it all nearly had you sweating by the time you entered the bar — you'd be hearing all that judgmental honking in your sleep, once you got back to it — but it all evaporated the second you saw Seokjin.
Off in the far corner, he sat on the outer half of a bench. Trapped inside that booth, visibly waiting for the sweet release of death, was Min Yoongi. You couldn't make out the details of that predominantly one-sided conversation, but you could tell by Seokjin's wild gesticulating and pink-tipped ears that he was ranting about something.
Bits and pieces fell into place as you made your away over, but no part of the overheard conversation made much sense to you.
Seokjin hiccupped, "I've said it once and I'll s-say it again —"
"— Hyung, I guarantee you've said it way more than once —" Yoongi attempted to interject, but he was quickly silenced by more of Seokjin's animated hand-waving.
"— Magic. It's magic, Yoongi. I'm tell — I'm telling you, man. There's just — hic — Science is stupid. I don't care about it, you know? And do you want — you wanna know why, Yoongi? Well, I'll t-tell you why —"
As he blinked emphatically at Yoongi, Seokjin must've somehow sensed you across the bar. He stopped dead in the middle of his unsolicited dissertation, wide-eyed with his jaw dropped, and gasped, "Baby!"
Before you could physically brace yourself for impact, he'd launched his clumsy frame out of his seat and collected you in his arms. Within seconds, without time to blink, his warm cheek was smushed against yours. Plush lips fluttered near your ear as he mumbled, "I missed you."
Of course, it'd only been a few hours since he last saw you, but he held you like you'd just returned from years at sea. Breathing deeply and contentedly, likely taking in the scent of your shampoo. Gently clutching the fabric of your jacket in his hands as if you'd float away otherwise. You had no desire whatsoever to burst that perfect, loving bubble, so you simply squeezed him tighter and told him that you'd missed him more.
Over his shoulder, you saw relief wash over Yoongi's face. No longer held hostage, he scooted himself out of the booth and immediately twisted in place to crack his back.
How long had he been stuck in there?
"Thank fuck," Yoongi sighed as he proceeded to crack his neck. He rolled his shoulders while answered the question you were about to ask, "Twenty entire minutes. Barely paused long enough to breathe, so I thought, shit — what if he dies here? I was scared I'd have to spend the rest of my days in this booth."
Seokjin, who still hadn't untangled himself from you, simply giggled. With his cheek remaining flush to yours, you could feel him grinning. He offered nothing whatsoever in his own defense, so Yoongi waved at you and turned to head off towards the restrooms.
You called out after him, prompting him to turn around. "What's so stupid about science?"
Yoongi's mouth stretched into a straight line across the entire bottom half of his face; his eyes narrowed to match. He heaved yet another sigh, gestured languidly to the half-cut fiancée clinging to you like a vest, and smirked, "He's convinced you hung the stars in the sky."
You would've melted into a puddle on the spot, but then Seokjin piped up and promptly shot your unsuspecting, lovestruck heart over the moon instead.
Abruptly changing the subject, he whispered — suddenly serious, as if it was the most important question in the world:
"Did you like the book, baby?"
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flowering-thought · 1 year
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The first OC I'll be posting here since I decided to finally use my blog, let me know if he's any good <3
I'll link the picrew later!
Not Edited
WARNING - Minors DNI
Reader is AFAB and is described as a woman.
Yandere themes, mentions of gore, stalking, other dark themes.
⋆。˚. ੈ ⋆。˚. ੈ ⋆。˚. ੈ ⋆。˚. ੈ ⋆。˚. ੈ ⋆。˚.
Daisuke Kawahara
First Meeting + HC's
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The first time Daisuke laid his eyes on you was when autumn had hit and many college students started to get ready for the second semester of the year in Tokyo besides the few that only lived to go to mixers and barely pass with some sort of luck.
Daisuke was doing the usual of keeping drunkards from slipping in drugs in drinks and often keeping fights from breaking out in the bar he worked at. Sometimes he wondered if there was a point to earning as much money as he did if he had to deal with shitty customers but he partially didn't care.
It had always been the same old thing on repeat; wake up, get ready, go to work, come home, eat, sleep, repeat.
He didn't find much joy out of things except for occasionally visiting a cat cafe and reading light novels online in his spare time. And if you asked his subordinates how he acted? They'd say he was the normal cool guy who you couldn't always quite tell what he was thinking. But he was the boss of the place so they didn't have anything negative to say about him.
But on a usual night, sometime when the bar started to get a little calm, he noticed what looked to be a foreigner walk up. He didn't have much interest until you plopped down and smiled at him, a lump under your jacket catching his eye when it started to move.
You of course smiled awkwardly as you started petting the lump until what appeared to be a snout of an orange kitten tried to peer at the world outside your jacket. Daisuke heard you cuss in a foreign language until he finally saw your eyes meet with his and your lips opened to form a question, "Could I get a water?".
And somehow that small odd moment was enough for his curiosity to peak. A foreigner showed up speaking quite well with a cat stowed away in their jacket and appeared at a bar of all places?
He gave you a water as requested and looked straight at the cat ears that he could see being alert. He only heard you shush the cat softly before whispering small words in a language he couldn't understand.
You noticed his gaze and hoping that you won't get kicked out, zipped your jacket down a bit to show more of the cat and bring the tip of the glass towards the cat. You had a small smile on your face as the small cat began to drink from the glass.
Most bartenders wouldn't have allowed this kind of thing to take place, but seeing as it was a slow hour and Daisuke quite liked cats he didn't mind as he watched the orange cat drink from the glass.
"You want to pet them?" You ask, meeting his eyes again before letting the cat rest its paws on the edge of your jacket.
Daisuke decided why not as he slowly pet the orange tabby who purred against his hand. You decided to take that as a sign that it would be okay to zip your jacket down fully, letting the cat have some more wiggle room.
Daisuke somehow felt warm at the sight of the orange cat. The cat was a bit dirty but clearly malnourished. Yet somehow not as bad as some other cats on the street he had seen. He gazed from the cat to the woman in front of him, finding that you were pretty cute just like that cat your stowed away.
"So what are you going to do with the small one?" he asked, his voice deep and a bit scratchy from not talking often. After all, he didn't usually like to talk unless he had to. and drunk customers weren't his favorite conversation buddies. You looked at him before then looking at the cat. "I'm not sure. I've been feeding him now and then but my dorm doesn't allow animals." you stated, the cat climbing on top of the counter with ease to lay down and show his belly to you.
You only smiled gently as you began to gently pet his belly. Daisuke was impressed that the cat trusted you that much since most street cats don't trust easily but he figured it must be true that you try your best to feed the cat when you can.
"I'm hoping to find him a place to stay but I'll take him to my dorm if I have to. I just don't want him on the street any longer." You added, looking up from the cat to Daisuke who somehow felt himself falling into your eyes that were filled with compassion and care.
And without thinking his lips moved to form a question, "I could always take him in of you dont mind?"
⋆。˚. ੈ ⋆。˚. ੈ ⋆。˚. ੈ ⋆。˚. ੈ ⋆。˚. ੈ ⋆。˚.
Regular Headcanons
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• Daisuke is 27 and born on August 26th making him a Virgo
• Daisuke is an introvert and doesn't like overly crowded spaces like the train and massive parties.
• Daisuke is fond of cats and light novels. He enjoys anything that is fiction and doesn't mind romance as long as it's a slow burn.
• Daisuke has a slight fear of dogs due to an incident that happened when he was a child.
• Daisuke inherited the bar from his grandfather after he decided to retire. The bar is named Hanami after his late grandmother who died when he was a pre-teen. His grandfather now lives with his father who decided to pursue a different business.
• Daisuke has an older brother and a younger brother who are both mostly doing their own thing.
• The building the bar is in has three floors and a basement underneath the bar. Daisuke uses the two floors above the bar as his home but still has a lot of room if he ever needed more space for any reason.
• Daisuke has a habit of smoking a bit about twice a week when he has had an overly stressful shift. He doesn't like the smell too much so he limits how much he smokes and only smokes his favorite brand.
• The man cannot cook to save his life. He often either ends up having ready made things or bentos from the store or cereal and toast. Occasionally he has had his grandfather come over and cook for him.
• Daisuke is closest with his Grandfather and older brother out of all of his family.
• Daisuke ended up naming the cat Mikan, finding that having the cat live with him for the first week made things less lonely.
• When he first told you he would take the cat you ended up helping him bathe Mikan after his shift ended, thanking him before trading contact on Line [A SNS service mostly used in Japan and Korea but can be used in other countries.]
• On the first night of having Mikan, you texted him when you got home, sending an image of a smiling cat with a text of "Good Luck!"
• During the next two weeks you would share stories about other cats and some light novels you had come to enjoy after moving to Japan as an exchange student.
• Daisuke found himself looking forward to every text you sent until you finally had time to meet up after two weeks. You showed up at the door of the second floor which had its own porch on the outside of the building away from the bars' entrance.
• He let you in, taking off your shoes at the entrance before heading inside with a plastic bag that you revealed has a couple of cat toys and some food you had made before coming over as a gift.
•You and him ate at his table after serving the food, Mikan heading over to see if you would let him try any of the food. But after both you and Daisuke had finished you ended up playing with Mikan in the living room.
• It was the first time Daisuke had anyone other than family actually inside his home. He never really had friends and he always kept to himself. He doesn't always get along with people so he was surprised that he actually enjoyed your presence.
• But as he watched you play with Mikan, eventually picking him up and holding him over your head before giving him a kiss on the belly, smiling as you looked over at Daisuke, bring mikan close to you, taking one of his paws in your hand before using his paw to wave at Daisuke.
• At that moment Daisuke felt something inside him completely melt, the image of your smile sealing both your fates in that single moment.
Yandere Tendencies Headcannons
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• Daisuke is a Stalker. As soon as he felt something as colorful as love light up his boring day-to-day world he found himself needing to know more about you.
• Daisuke is quite built. He deals with rowdy customers often and has gotten into a few fights. As he falls deeper into his obsession he finds that he feels violent whenever anyone badmouths or bothers you.
• He wouldn't hesitate to get rid of someone that he thinks is a problem. He doesn't torture them if he isn't upset with them either. It takes a lot to get him genuinely mad. But the rare few who buzz around you like mosquitoes are the ones who end up seeing a side of him that you have no chance of seeing.
• As much as he's not talkative with others, that blows out the window when you show up, finding that he enjoys every conversation you and him have. Daisuke loves to hear you talk as well, enjoying the way your eyes light up when you talk about something particular.
• He would never dream of hurting you or sharing you with anyone. He hates the thought of you in pain and hates when you're upset. The first time you cry in front of him is the first time you see him truly freak out because he doesn't know what to do.
• He's not very good with emotions or expressing them, and what he feels for you is the first time he's ever felt love for anyone. And no one could ever convince him otherwise. He wouldn't even dream of cheating on you either.
• Since Daisuke has some spare rooms he began keeping photos of you and romance novels he bought as examples in one of his spare rooms. That room he keeps locked under a padlock just in case.
• Daisuke fell hard for you. So hard that he only remembers his family members talking about the first time they met their lovers and found that he finally found the same thing that they did. Turns out a burning obsessive love runs in the family.
• Daisuke is and isn't manipulative. While he wants you all to himself, finding that you are too good to be true half the time, he ends up noting your likes and dislikes, using them to make you fall for him.
• He has no desire you kidnap you. But just because he doesn't want to doesn't mean he won't if he has to.
• He slowly starts to be unable to live without you, the happiness and love you bring him like a drug. All he wants is to be with you.
• If he has to, he'll ask for help from his family to help keep you by his side if there are any legal problems that come up in the future. After all, his family has the same tendencies as him. If he can't do it himself, he knows his family will always be there to help him.
And eventually, you'll be a part of that family as well.
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Coffee dates
Spencer Reid x reader
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The sun was just beginning to set as Spencer Reid made his way through the bustling streets of Washington D.C. He had just finished a long day at the FBI, and all he wanted to do was go home and curl up with a good book. However, as he walked past a small coffee shop, something caught his eye.
Through the window, he could see a young woman sitting at a table, her nose buried in a book. She looked up for a moment, her eyes meeting his before quickly darting back to her novel. Spencer felt his heart skip a beat, and before he knew it, he was walking inside the coffee shop.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries filled his nostrils as he made his way to the counter. The barista greeted him with a smile, and Spencer ordered his usual, a black coffee with no sugar. As he waited for his order, he couldn't help but steal glances at the young woman reading her book.
Finally, his coffee was ready, and he made his way over to her table. "Excuse me," he said, his voice soft and unsure. "Do you mind if I sit here?"
The young woman looked up at him, her eyes widening slightly as she took in his appearance. Spencer was tall and lanky, with unruly hair and thick-rimmed glasses that gave him an air of intelligence. "Um, sure," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Spencer took a seat across from her, sipping his coffee as he tried to think of something to say. "What are you reading?" he finally asked, gesturing to the book in front of her.
The young woman smiled, her eyes lighting up. "It's called 'The Catcher in the Rye'," she replied. "Have you read it?"
Spencer shook his head. "No, I haven't had the chance yet," he said. "But I've heard it's a classic."
They fell into an easy conversation, discussing literature and their favorite authors. Spencer was surprised at how quickly he found himself opening up to this stranger, and before he knew it, they had been talking for hours.
As the night wore on, the coffee shop began to empty out, and Spencer realized that he didn't want to leave. He felt a connection with this young woman, something he had never felt before. "Would you like to go for a walk?" he asked, his heart pounding in his chest.
The young woman nodded, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. They walked through the city, the streets almost deserted as the night grew darker. Spencer found himself talking freely, telling her things he had never told anyone else.
As they reached a small park, the young woman turned to him, her eyes shining in the moonlight. "I had a really great time tonight," she said. "Thank you for keeping me company."
Spencer felt his heart sink, thinking that their night was coming to an end. But then, the young woman leaned in, her lips meeting his in a soft, sweet kiss. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, and he knew in that moment that he was falling in love.
The rest of the night passed in a blur, and before he knew it, Spencer found himself standing outside the young woman's apartment. "Can I see you again?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The young woman nodded, a smile on her face. "I'd like that," she said. "How about dinner tomorrow night?"
Spencer felt his heart race as he agreed, the anticipation almost too much to bear. As he walked back to his apartment, he couldn't help but think about the young woman, wondering about what may happen in the future.
A/n: pls help I should really be studying but criminal minds is somehow more important to my brain
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nikhos · 8 months
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Laurie´s dad: A character´s study (1/2)
I've alway been curious about who Laurie's father was; so in my rereading of the TC novel I´ve tried to pick some data and meditations  in order to give some light on the character.
We know Laurie´s father is called Michael, (Michael Odell, I presume)
He is a journalist or a newspaperman (which I find fascinating).
He travels a lot (apparently) or spends most of his time away from home:  “He was often away, covering things”  and he talks French, fluency : “Tais-toi; voici l´enfant” ( it could be told by the mom, but i prefer to think is from the father because of his job)
His child pictures him as sort of a companion in mischief  because  both of them get in problems and make Laurie's mom mad: "They were too often in trouble together, for making a mess without cleaning up, or being late home from their joint expeditions.” That point makes Laurie see his father as an equal, and loves him for that.
Michael cares for his son, too: He gives him a gold cap from a broken fountain pen and takes him on long walks. He is not a neglected father.
However, he is not on good terms with his wife, Laurie´s mom. Both of them have had disagreements and now, daddy doesn't share the same room with mommy anymore: “He sat up in bed, but feet passed, and when he called it was too late; they have gone on the door of what had in the last few days become Daddy´s Room.”
We don't know what exactly Laurie´s father did, but in agreement with five years old Laurie's thoughts it was something wicked: “During his approaches and retreats he had heard snatches of the conversations his presence had interrupted. He knew that his father had done something wicked while he was away from home.” Where wicked is attached to the words: ill, evil, bad, immoral, amoral, unprincipled, depraved, dissolute, degenerate. (American edition thesaurus). This will be the first time Laurie associate Love with right and good.
The wicked thing Michael did to lose his wife's confidence was to have an illicit affair. (This point is confirmed in chapter three for Laurie himself "You know, my father wasn't faithful to my mother. She minded a lot at the time, but she is all right now." )
Because of that, there's a sense of guilt in Michael when accepts the mother's complaint of trying to influence their child's feelings “Michael!” she said quietly. “Oh, how could you?” (Also, there is some selfishness in the mom´s behavior due to she is sure he is leaving home)
Later, a teen Laurie will tell us the official version of his father's leaving:  “He had been too young when his father went to fear economic changes; and in fact there had been none.” And that version is, of course, the mom's version “Laurie knew his mother's side of the story so well that on the thinking surface of his mind it was only one.” 
The memento of his father has faded away from Laurie's memories; but will see it still alive somehow around his infatuation for a senior student in school and his abrupt departure. (We could find some similitudes between Michael and Ralph's descriptions: " His father drew his thick dark brows together; his eyes glancing at his wristwatch looked narrow and blue." and for Ralph: "He was slight and lean, with dusty-fair hair and eyes of a striking light blue which were narrowed by the structure of the orbit above, giving him a searching look even when he smiled." )
(it will continue...)
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Daily Mirror News Room 1920
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Reporter (Movie: Feel my pulse- 1928)
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Men fashion in 1920
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recurring-polynya · 9 months
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I'm sorry if this comes off weird, but I wanted to ask why you seem to not want to know about Can't Fear Your Own World? Do you dislike it, or it's nature as a post-series work?
So I've read a couple of the light novels and they simply do not spark joy. The plots sort of wander around, the characterization has very little to say, and they are full of what I'll call "lore dumps", where there will be a paragraph of exposition that's not integrated into the story in any sort of natural way and is frequently of the "thanks, I hate it" variety. Even though they may be "Kubo approved", or include stuff that he came up with, they completely lack his storytelling skill or the charm of his character voices. There are usually about 3-5 bits that I find charming per light novel, and about five to ten times as many that I find aggravating or off-putting (or just plain tedious or boring).
I think that a big part of it for me is that I read a lot of fanfiction and while there is an awful lot of mediocre fanfic, I have also read a lot of brilliant stories written by people who have given a ton of thought to the characters and the worldbuilding and out-of-canon adventures that these characters might go on. To me, the light novels I have read feel like finding a story on AO3 that has all my favorite tags and a cool story description, and then it turns out that I absolutely hate the writing style and direction. It feels like adding insult to injury that on top of that, I am somehow obligated to consider them canon.
To address CFYOW specifically, it does not contain any of the characters I care about. I mean, I like Shuuhei, but what I like about Shuuhei is his relationship with Izuru, Momo, and Renji. I like his job at the Seireitei Communication. I like his guitar playing and boring cooking and the goofy outfits he wears in splash pages. I could not care less about him getting bankai. I've said this before, but I would like relatively very few characters to get bankai, and he is not on my shortlist. It feels very shoehorned to me.
The plot sounds convoluted and tedious as hell. I already found the Fullbringers tedious enough when I had to read about them in the manga, I do not want to spend one more minute of my life thinking about Fullbringers.
Tokinada seems mildly interesting, but I'm pretty sure I got as much as I care to know about him from reading thru some BBS screenshots.
I hate literally every piece of Soul King-related lore I have heard come out of CFYOW. It makes me literally enjoy Bleach less.
I read a fan translation of the first couple of chapters when they came out and it barely kept my attention. I briefly considered that maybe the professional translation might be a little more readable (I say this with all love and respect for the translation I read, which was trying to keep it very close to the original), but then I have heard that Viz butchered the translation, so I feel like there's no winning there.
It's just not for me. If it were a fanfiction, I would look at the tags and description and simply keep scrolling. I wish peace and love on planet Earth to everyone who enjoyed it and any of the other light novels, but it's not something I wish to spend my time and energy on. There are so many parts and pieces of Bleach--the manga, the anime, the movies, the filler arcs, the novels, databooks, random facts Kubo spills in interviews, fanworks, etc, and I've always been of the opinion that as fans, we all have the right to pick and choose which ones we want to consume and what we want to include in our own personal canons. Further, because CFYOW is post-canon, it literally affects nothing if I ignore it. Yeah, there are a few interesting crumbs in there, like the stuff about Ikkaku and his sister and I think there's an off-hand mention of the Six Hearts gang going to the beach, but it's simply not worth it to me to read through over a thousand pages of something that I am otherwise just not interested in.
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tanzakukun · 7 months
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[repost] Suzaku's connection to geass, the secret to his superhuman strength + more about code, geass
Posted by u/Balanoglossus on reddit
Original post: https://www.reddit.com/r/CodeGeass/comments/il43sb/suzakus_connection_to_geass_the_secret_to_his/
(reposting this for the archive of the internet)
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Disclaimer: the source for this is the light novel series. I'm not sure if they're considered canon. Although, I've heard it is supposed to give a deeper understanding of events in the anime. Anyway, with that out of the way, let's get started.
When Marianne and CC are on the Kamine island, just before the Ragnarok connection, they find Suzaku unconscious. CC wonders if Suzaku joined forces with Lelouch because Marianne tells her that Lelouch went to the Kamine island (CC has no memories of the events that took place in the real world during her amnesia).
At this point, CC talks about Suzaku's origins. Here's what was revealed: The Kururugi clan had been the ones that owned the Kamine island. They had been tasked with protecting the Thought elevator there (presumably by the Geass Directorate) and they did so for several generations. Because of this, they were one of the Guardian Clans. Then 300 years before, for whatever reason, their contact with the Order was cut. Despite this, because he inherited the blood of the guardians, Suzaku was endowed with his superhuman physical abilities and he could see CC in Gwain's cockpit. However, as CC notes, he has no aptitude for geass.
What is the aptitude for geass?
Aptitude for geass seems to be the ability of the person to receive a geass, wield it and keep it under control. It might be a measure of how potent their geass is and how much it can evolve. Marianne says that Lelouch's aptitude for geass is the highest in the Royal family, even higher than Charle's own.
Price for using geass and Lelouch's special case:
CC reveals that the price for uses geass is life, ie, a user has to give their life in some way and to a variable degree to be able to use geass. She gives the example of Marianne who had to be on the brink of death for her geass to activate. We also see this with Rolo, whose heart stops whenever he uses geass. Life seems to be the standard price. But Lelouch can use his own freely. Why is that? Because he inherits what is called the Blood of the kings which exempts him from paying this price.
What is Blood of the Kings?
It is an inherited trait that runs in families that have descended from the original geass users. its not made clear who these original users are although my guess is its that weird race with geass symbols and strange white clothes we see when CC makes the contract with Lelouch. This blood runs in the Britannian royal family, explaining why Charles is exempt too. Those who inherit this blood also have higher aptitude than that the general population in addition to the exemption. Thit means that the whole Imperial family has a high geass aptitude and Lelouch has the highest within them. Marianne actually wonders the cause of his abnormally high aptitude because according to her he also inherited her own blood which should have reduced the effect of the Blood of the Kings. (My guess: CC spent time with Marianne when they were linking thought elevators and all with VV and Charles, presumably even when Marianne was pregnant. It is possible that Lelouch might have been exposed to the power of CC's code in utero and this might somehow have increased his aptitude. Again, just my guess.)
Mao:
As we see in the series, Mao doesn't seem to pay the price for geass. So, assuming there are more families that have the blood of the kings and taking hair color into consideration, Mao might be related to Tianzi and the Chinese imperial family might have the blood too.
Code, Blood of kings and CC:
CC implies that having blood of the kings is an essential requirement to be able to inherit a code. Considering how she herself is a code bearer, we can conclude that she herself has the blood of the kings. It also implies the possibility that she is a royal too, but might have been separated from her family as a child and then ended up a slave. This requirement might also explain why Dash was a failed code bearer.
Purpose of thought Elevators + Lelouch, Suzaku special case:
Apparently, physical objects including humans cannot enter the C's world except through the thought elevators, otherwise the body will disintegrate. Marianne however notes that CC once transported Lelouch out of the C's world without a thought elevator. CC says the reason is that she used his ' R-factor' that allows her to transport him in and out of C's world safely without a thought elevator. Whether this R-factor is related to the blood of the kings or its something else entirely wasn't made clear. Similarly, Suzaku has what is called the 'guardian's essence' (I think the word was essence) that comes from his bloodline. This allows CC to transport him in and out of C's world without thought elevator. This is the reason why those three could come back out of C's world even though Lelouch bombed it and rendered it unusable.
CC's feelings about Ragnarok Connection (my personal interpretation):
CC explains Suzaku about Ragnarok before they enter the C's world. I may have misinterpreted it, but it seemed like she was trying to convince Suzaku that it was a bad idea. Later, in C's world Suzaku gives Lelouch the nudge he needed to reject the plan. My headcanon: CC might actually have been against their plan, but played along until she could stop them. Explains why she left the order 10 years ago. Marianne's death might just have been a convenient excuse for her.
There's a lot more info. If y'all want I could write that too.
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Four's a Charm Chapter 14
Read here or on Ao3:
Chapter 14. A (Literal) Fuckery (NSFW)
The fireplace, which Izzy was still advising against lighting at all, was lit. Warming the captain's cabin and casting a cosy glow. On the settee, you were sat, curled up against Stede's side as he read to you. You lazily followed along with the words in the book but were far more focused on his voice. While his voice was calming, emerged in the fictional world of the novel, you couldn't help the way your mind kept drifting from the story.
You tilted your chin up to watch Stede's face, watching how his eyes scanned over the words on the pages as he read with conviction, lost in his own little world. You couldn't help but smile whenever he wore the glasses that were currently perched on the bridge of his nose. He looked so charming. So domestic.
"Stede?" you asked softly, lifting your hand to cup his cheek and turn his face towards you. 
Stede followed your guidance without protest, voice fading out as he finished the sentence he had been reading. "Is something wrong, darling?" he frowned a little.
You smiled at his concern but shook your head, pushing yourself up just enough to press your lips to his. He returned your kiss instantly, eyes fluttering shut. Without pulling away from you, he closed his book and blindly placed it down beside him. His, now free, hand coming up to tenderly caress your cheek.
His hair was ridiculously soft as you ran your fingers through it. It was Stede who deepened the kiss then, running his tongue along your bottom lip until your lips parted willingly. Somehow managing to pull you even closer than you already were. Slipping your arms around his neck, you managed to find yourself in his lap, knees planted on either side of his hips while his free arm circled around your waist.
Stede broke the kiss with a bright smile, pushing your hair out of your face. "Oh, I was so worried that Lucius' interruption had put you off the idea completely," he confessed, chest rising and falling a littler heavier than usual, his face flushed but his smile perfectly happy.
You couldn't help but let a little fond laugh escape you, he could be so sweet. "Think it threw us all off a little, especially Izzy," you explained, recalling how jumpy Izzy had been recently.
"Ed and I talked, we didn't think we should push. You had both seemed embarrassed," his hands soothed up and down your sides.
"Yeah, because I knew Lucius was going to question be about it later," you chuckled before assuring him, "but I wasn't embarrassed about anything else."
"Well...perhaps we could try again?" Stede suggested as you mindlessly played with the ends of his hair. It had grown some since he first left for the sea.
"Funnily enough, I was going to suggest the same thing," you smiled, leaning down to give him a sweet kiss. "You going to get all bossy again?" you asked jokingly. You couldn't help but tease a little bit, "didn't think you'd take the lead like that."
Stede blushed a little at the memory but didn't seem in anyway deterred, "why not?"
You opened your mouth to answer but quickly closed it again. "...it would sound mean," you confessed quietly, dropping your forehead to his shoulder.
"I'm sure you have no ill intent," Stede reassured, one hand rubbing up and down your back.
"I mean...other than your wife, Ed is the only person you've been with, and well...you get it," you answered vaguely, but he got the idea.
You heard Stede's small hum of consideration. He wasn't offended, you realised. He supposed it was a fair assumption, one that wasn't completely incorrect either. "I think I've come a long way in that short amount of time," he insisted, making you laugh into his shoulder before sitting up properly again. "Plus, I thought a little guidance might be helpful. Sometimes I feel that giving Izzy direction takes away his worries, lets him just act," he added.
You nodded, understanding what he was saying. Izzy had a way of talking himself out of the things he wanted, getting into his own head too much. Though, you didn't think that had to be Stede's responsibility, even if it was very thoughtful of him.
"You don't have to take control like that if you don't want too. I think the same about Izzy, it's something he'll have to work on, and he'll have us to help him," you wrapped one of his little curls around your index finger before releasing it. "I actually think it might be best to...forgo the scene setting and directions. You know...just let things happen. Everyone just does what feels right," you suggested.
"That sounds like a wonderful idea, darling. Perhaps we should give it a try again tonight?" the way Stede's eye lit up would have been adorable if he wasn't talking about getting Ed and Izzy into bed. Who were you kissing? It was still adorable.
"What do you suggest?" you asked with a smile, watching his mind work.
"We'll have dinner and then a drink, nothing too formal, and we'll...seduce them!" Stede exclaimed excitedly and you couldn't help but laugh.
"Like a fuckery...a literal fuckery?" you mused, raising an eyebrow at him.
"I suppose so, yes. I don't suppose it will be too difficult," he hummed, face flushing slightly. "Hm, I might ask Roach to make some amendments for dinner. Perhaps some more sweets. Oh, and the good brandy!" he thought out loud, just filling you with a feeling of fondness.
"Alright, yeah, let's do it. Let's seduce out boyfriends," you agreed with a laugh.
Stede smiled brightly up at you once again, bringing one hand down to gently grip your hip. "I like the sound of that," his other hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss.
-
Roach had made a wonderful spread for the four of them, even with some of the last minute changes Stede had made (and nearly lost a hand for). The four of you ate together like you usually did, but both Edward and Izzy could sense that something was different. More effort than usual had gone into the meal, Stede had made more of a fuss about it than he usually does. Though, despite the display of food,  Stede has seemingly decided to go for more casual attire than usual. He had suggested 'not too formal' to you after all, having settled on a simple pair of breeches and a shirt. He still looked dashing, of course.
Though, more than any of the other noticeable difference, the most concerning part of the whole thing was that you and Stede kept sharing glances.
They hadn't thought much of it at first, Edward had thought, even hoped, that maybe there was some new tension between you both, of the sexual kind of course. Had hoped it was some sort of silent flirting. Either way, it had piqued Edward's interest, but it only served to unsettle Izzy. He didn't like the idea of being out of the loop on something, it makes him uncomfortable.
Once dinner and desert was finished, Stede ushered the three of you over to the sitting area and poured each of you a glass of brandy. Though, they could barely care about any food or drink when all of Stede's touching was driving them insane. The touches were innocent, really. Little touches to the shoulder, the smalls of their backs, knees, and thighs. Lingering but not for long enough to be considered anything but chaste.
Then you all found yourselves crammed on the settee, it was impractical but it meant that you could all sit together, sharing light conversation. You and Stede still sharing those glances that Edward and Izzy kept wanting to mention.
But those little glances was how you noticed that Stede had finished his drink, that along with the sound of his ring clinking against the glass as he gently tapped his finger.
"Refill, Stede?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
Stede looked over the two men at you and smiled, "if you don't mind, love."
With a smile of your own, yous stood, placing your glass down and picking up the bottle of brandy. Stede only watched as you did so. "Thank you, darling," Stede nodded as you refilled his glass.
"No problem," you lifted the bottle up and Stede held his glass out to the side.
As you expected, a hand on the back of your neck pulled you down to meet the captain in an opened mouthed kiss. Beside the two of you, you could hear somebody quietly choke on their drink. You just hummed approvingly, a little amused, into the kiss.
Stede released you with a smile, both of you breathing a little heavier now. Then you looked towards the other men. "Either of you need a refill?" you asked innocently.
"Fuck yeah, I'll take one," Edward nodded, quickly downing the rest of his drink before holding the glass out to you.
You chuckled and only managed to partially fill his cup before Edward was distracting you by capturing your lips with his own. You fumbled with the bottle slightly, miraculously not spilling any of its contents. After a short moment, you felt somebody carefully take the bottle from you, the soft hand against your back indicating that it was Stede.
"Can I interest you in a top up, Israel?" Stede asked.
Edward lent back against the settee, pulling you along with him until you had to reach out and grab the back of the settee to stop yourself from falling right onto him.
"Wouldn't mind one, yeah," Izzy answered with a faux casualness.
Stede laughed a little to himself and you opened your eyes just in time to see Stede lean down and kiss him, making you smile into Edward's kiss.
"Should I take this?" you asked against his lips, gently taking hold of his glass. Edward nodded, smirking when you took the glass and sipped from it, holding his gaze.
You had to move, much too far away in Edward's opinion, to place the glass on the table behind you.
"Iz?" you asked, causing the man to tear away from Stede and look at you with a confused expression. "Your glass, love," you gestured to his nearly empty glass, Stede never did refill it.
"We don't want any spillage, do we?" Stede encouraged.
Izzy flushed and handed you the glass.
As you placed his glass down as well, Edward tugged on Stede's shirt. "So, this is what you two have been up to?" he asked, guiding the blond closer.
"I can assure you, I have no idea what you're talking about, dearest," Stede said in that way that told everyone that he knew exactly what he was talking about.
"Told you they're just as insane as each other," you murmured, settling down on the settee beside Izzy as Edward pulled Stede down for a kiss.
"You're pretty fucking mental too," Izzy insisted, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Yeah? What does that make you?" you asked, teasingly, leaning into him.
"Shut up," he muttered, grabbing you by your shirt and pulling you into a kiss.
You grinned into his mouth at his eagerness but quickly melted into the kiss, practically draping yourself over his lap as he pulled you closer. "Aren't they just lovely?" Stede asked Edward in a hushed tone, but made sure to be loud enough that you could both hear him.
"The fucking loveliest," Edward agreed before smiling up at Stede, "as well as you, of course."
"Well, I should hope so," Stede hummed. 
"Fucking hell," Izzy groaned, bumping his forehead against yours as he broke the kiss.
"Iz is right, you two just gonna sit there talking about us?" you asked, cocking an eyebrow at the both.
With a toothy smile, Edward gripped Izzy by the hair on the back of his head and pulled him into a messy kiss, Izzy having to grip his bicep to steady himself.
Stede chuckles fondly, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he ran his hands up your sides. "Perhaps we should move to the bed, where it's a little more comfortable," he suggested, his own back hurting from seeing how the three of you leaned over each other.
Edward nearly sent you all tumbling over with just how fast he stood up. Stede laughed fondly at the enthusiasm as he helped you up from the settee, from your slightly awkward position over Izzy.
As you stood, you caught Izzy's hand, pulling him to his feet as well.
Soon enough the four of you were on your feet and stumbling over each other in flurry of touches and kisses. By the time you made it to the bed, only on the other side of the cabin, the four of you were shirtless. Shirts and a leather waistcoat abandoned on the floor, your attention too focused on each other to care too much. Come morning, Izzy will be huffing about his routine being disturbed and Stede would be turning his nose up at the wrinkles in everyone's clothes.
Not so long ago there might have been more hesitance, more uncertainty in yourselves, but enough time had passed that enthusiasm and desperation had took control. You all needed this, wanted this, and you didn't feel the need to worry about what it was you were doing. It was the four of you, and that was more than enough. 
Edward dropped himself down onto the edge of the bed, pulling you down to straddle his lap. His hands clutched your hips, pulling you flush against him, while Izzy pressed up behind you. He stood at your back, hands against your waist, fingering repeatedly pressing into your soft flesh and relaxing again.
You couldn't help the little sighs you made as they attacked your neck with their mouths. Edward greedily sucked at your neck, bound to leave his marks behind, before continuing his assault over your shoulders and down your chest. Izzy's kisses were slightly more reserved but involved more teeth, dragging them over the nap of your neck and down between your shoulder blades.
Stede moved closer, resting one knee on the bed as he buried a hand in your hair, turning your head towards him to catch you in a kiss. He kissed you with a need you hadn't felt from him before, his inhibitions lessened, feeling less need to hold back for others comfort. You all wanted this as much as him.
Being pressed between the three men with their mouths on you was overwhelming but in the best way.
A shiver ran down your spine as Izzy licked a stripe up your neck, nipping at your earlobe. "Fuck," you gasped into Stede's mouth when teeth graze over the sensitive flesh of your nipple. You felt Edward smirk against you at your reaction.
When Edward grabbed your chin and turned your head towards him, Stede let you go, pressing a kiss to your jaw. Edward was up to something, you could tell from the look in his eyes, the glint behind them.
"Wanna get Iz ready for me?" Edward asked, close enough that his lips brushed against yours, low enough that he sounded like he was sharing a secret.
But you all heard him and you all groaned at the thought. You felt Izzy shiver behind you, his grip on your waist tightening as his hips jolted against your back.
You nodded frantically, Izzy and Stede moving back as you scrambled off of Edward's lap.
You all helped each other out of your pants, more little touches and kisses shared in the meantime. Leather was not the most glamorous thing to strip out of but Edward and Izzy made it work, and it didn't discourage any of you.
With a wet kiss, Stede patted Izzy's hip and nudged him towards the bed. Izzy did as he was told, crawling up on to the bed and laying on his stomach, his head against the pillows.
"On your back Iz, if that's alright," you requested as you knelt on the bed.
Izzy nodded and turned over, making you smile as you crawled between his legs. Hands braced on either side of his head, you lent down and met him in a slow kiss, feeling him relax under you.
"This okay?" you asked as you kissed along his jaw, stroking a hand up the inside of his thigh.
"Get the fuck on with it," Izzy complained, no bite in his voice. He sounded more breathless than anything.
"Patience, dear," Stede chastised fondly while you and Edward laughed. "Here you go, darling, you'll need it," he got your attention for long enough to press a little vial into your hand. Oil.
"Thank you," you lent over to give him a quick kiss before returning to your position and opening the vial.
You poured a generous amount of oil into your hand before sealing the vial and letting one of the captains take it from you. You could hear the sound of Edward and Stede climbing onto the bed with you both, the sound of their messy kisses, as you buried your face in Izzy's neck to kiss and nip at the sensitive skin.
Izzy twitched slightly as you slipped your hand between his legs, you smiling as he unconsciously spread them a little further. You were slow, edging on teasing, as you kissed, licked, and nipped down his body. By the time you were mouthing at his hip, you had managed two fingers. Izzy practically whined, rolling his hips into your hand, making you smirk.
He gasped when you mouthed at his length, hips jerking before settling back down. You heard Edward chuckle behind you, alerting you that the captains had moved and untangled themselves from each other. 
As you added a third finger, you glanced up to see Stede brushing his fingers through Izzy's hair and laying his mouth over his own. Izzy lifted his chin, nearly arching off of the bed to meet him in the kiss, making the captain smile against his mouth.
You jolted a little in surprise when a warm hand slid up the inside of your thigh but instantly relaxed at the sound of Edward's quiet laugh. You gasped into Izzy's hip at the feeling of slick fingers brushing over you, Edward pushed in two without any warning, pulling another gasp from you.
Edward ran a hand down your spine, settling on the small of your back. Then a third finger, just like you were doing for Izzy. Edward lent over your back, brining his mouth to your ear, "trust me." You had no idea what he meant by that but you did, you did trust him. Anyway, you were sure you would find out soon enough.
"Fucking hell, okay, I'm ready, that's enough," Izzy complained, squirming under you, breaking away from Stede's kiss.
Stede couldn't help but chuckle at the whining before looking to you, "do you agree?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'd say so," you nodded, Edward's fingers playing with your hair.
Stede and Edward shared a look and Edward pulled away from you before guiding you away from Izzy. Stede was quick to pull you into him, pulling you into his lap and holding you against his chest as he buried his face in your neck.
Edward grabbed Izzy with a grin, capturing him in a messy kiss and flipping them both over. Edward sinking into the pillows as Izzy straddled himself over him.
"Have no fucking idea how long I've wanted this, Iz," Edward murmured, tugging on Izzy's hair in just the right way. You weren't sure if it was the captain's words or the hair pulling that caused the first mate to groan. Edward palmed at Izzy's hips and ass, humming and moaning as they ground together. "Turn around, face them," he ordered. 
Doing as he's hold, Izzy turns himself around with some assistance from Edward, so that he is still straddling his captain's hips but facing away from him. Facing you and Stede. As Edward sat himself up to kiss between Izzy's shoulder blades, while still groping at his hips of course, Stede gave you a small nudge and you moved forward. 
Stede held you by the waist so that you didn't lose your balance as you shuffled forwards, straddling Edward's thighs so that you were face to face with Izzy.
Growing impatient, Izzy ground down against Edward, pulling a small groan and curse from the man below him. You chuckled at the teasing, cupping Izzy's face in your hands and pulling him into a kiss.
Izzy kissed back, all tongue and teeth, as he lifted his hips. Edward got the message loud and clear, taking himself in hand and positioning himself. As Izzy sank down on him, his hands gripped your arms tightly, both for balance and for something to help ground him as he adjusted to the feeling of fullness, to the stretch. It was been a while since he had done this. But it was better than he remembered, better than it had ever been. It was Edward inside him, it was you caressing him, it was Stede cooing to you all.
"We've got you," you murmured, Izzy groaning into your mouth as he fully dropped his hips.
"Fuck," Edward moaned once Izzy was fully seated.
"Now, hold on, loves," Stede shifted up behind you, a hand stroking up Edward's leg and the other perched on your hip. Izzy stilled under the order, Edward kneading at him. You turned your head to let him kiss you, his hand running up and down your side. "Ready?" he asked you.
"Yeah, please, fuck," you nodded before turning back to Izzy, who gave you a slightly amused look.
Both of Stede's hands gripped your hips, slowly pushing in to you.
A breathy moan escaped you, forehead resting against Izzy's. Well, here was another thing that surprised you about Stede Bonnet. Just how well-endowed he was. Now you know why Edward had wanted you to 'trust him' when it came to prepping.
Stede's fingers dug into your hips as he let out a shaky breath. "Almost there, love. Are you alright?" he asked, rubbing his thumbs in comforting circles.
You nodded, shifting your hips back to let him know he could continue. And he did, pushing forward until his hips were flush with your ass.
You breathed in and breathed out. He was definitely the biggest you had ever taken but, fuck, it felt good. Head dropping to Izzy's shoulder, gripping his arms in return, grip slowly loosening as you became familiar with the feeling.
"Stede," you sighed, managing to lift your head from Izzy's shoulder. You met the first mate's gaze through hooded, glassy eyes. There was nothing but awe (well, along with pleasure) in the way he looked at you. 
Brought out of his admiration, Izzy groaned as Edward sat up, shifting inside of him. "Let me see, Iz," he whined, causing Izzy to lean to the side slightly, letting Edward in over his shoulder.
"Fucking gorgeous, all three of you," Edward praised, taking in the sight of you and Stede. You smiled, leaning forward to kiss him. Edward kissed back hungrily, leaning forward and incidentally pressing Izzy against you. "Gotta move, mate," Edward broke the kiss, mouthing at Izzy's ear.
"I'd have to agree," Stede hummed against the back of your shoulder, leaving a gentle kiss there.
You and Izzy nodded in agreement, holding onto each other for balance as Edward lay back down and Stede shifted behind you. Edward tapped Izzy's hip, giving a small trust of his own, signalling for Izzy to move. And, to his credit, he did. Izzy steadily lifted himself up before dropping back down, rolling his hips, pulling sounds from his captain's mouth. Riding him wantonly.
Stede pulled out of you nearly completely before slowly pushing back in, hearing your moaned gasp before picking up the pace. His hands roamed your frame, groping at your waist and chest, covering the back of your neck and shoulders with kisses, surely adding his own marks to the litany caused by Edward and Izzy.
You and Izzy were each other's source of balance, holding onto each other to prevent either of you from toppling over. Leaning into each other and occasionally nuzzling into each other's neck when receiving a particularly well aimed trust. It was the best angle for Edward and Stede to see you and Izzy messily making out and moaning into each other's mouths, but they gave it their best shot. The sight only spurring them on.
Feeling himself getting close, Edward sat up to press his chest against Izzy's back, gripping Izzy's hips and guiding the way he ground into his lap. Izzy released a particularly high pitched moan, signalling that he was close as well. They weren't the only ones, you felt that edge rapidly approaching and Stede appeared to feel the same way from the way his thrusts lost their rhythm.
You pried a hand away from Izzy's arm to wrap it around his length, causing his head to loll back against Edward's shoulder.
"Aren't they beautiful?" Stede asked lowly in your ear, pressing his chest to your back, pulling you back into him. You nodded frantically, past the point of words but agreeing completely as you continued to pump your hand. "Keep your eyes open. Watch them with me," he ordered and you nodded again, this time with a little moan of his name.
Izzy was the first to finish, spilling over your hand, but Edward was right behind him. Cursing as his hips twitched and bunked before stilling completely, hands tugging Izzy's hips down against his own, anchoring them there.
You and Stede couldn't contain your moans at the display. They were a vision.
"They helped you out, Iz. Give them a hand, yeah?" Edward lazily nudged him, nuzzling into his neck.
Izzy lifted himself up just enough to focus on watching you as he slipped a hand between your legs. You moaned instantly, practically collapsing against his broad chest as your hips jerked into his hand. He kept you propped up and Edward kept him held up.
"Too-too much," you gasped incoherently.
"Need us to stop?" Stede asked, panting against your shoulder as he slowed his thrusts. 
"No, no," you nearly cried at the idea of him stopping now, shaking your head, clutching at Izzy. "Please don't stop."
Stede moaned your name as he picked up the pace again, his thrusts hard and fast as he chased his end right alongside you.
You came with a moan, your legs shaking and fingernails digging into Izzy's skin, earning a soft groan from him.
Stede moaned your name again to get your attention. It partially worked, you were listening but everything was a little fuzzy. "Can I-" you knew what he was going to ask, because of course he would ask, but you didn't need to think about the answer.
"Yes!" you answered, hips and body jerking at the oncoming oversensitivity, "yes, please."
Unable to argue with that, Stede groaned in your ear and his hips pressed harsh against you as he finished.
Edward let out a soft groan at the sight before falling back down into the pillows. Izzy huffed at the lack of support, leaning more into you as you lent further against him, legs feeling too weak and shaky to fully hold yourself up.
Stede took his time collecting himself and calming his breathing before pulling away from you. You hissed at the loss, only to keen when he soothed a hand down your spine. With gentle hands, he guided you to the side, to lay down beside Edward. Edward smiled, holding Izzy still as he lent over to give you lazy kisses.
As Stede helped Izzy up and off of Edward's lap, you shifted to give Izzy the space to lay between you and Edward.
With a goofy grin, Edward lent up to kiss Stede, running his fingers through his hair, before he could move to far away.
You groaned with a pleased smile, stretching out in a way that reminded Izzy of a cat backing in the sun.
"My lower back is going to ache something fierce tomorrow," Izzy complained with a small smile, looking relaxed. Content. Happy.
"Worth it though, I hope?" Stede asked, pulling away from Edward's grabby hands.
"Sure," Izzy smiled more to himself.
"So worth it," you added, making Edward laugh.
He stretched just like you had, groaning when his knee popped, before yawning and turning over to curl up against Izzy. You pushed Izzy's hair out of his face, smoothing it back over his head and giving him a gentle kiss.
Stede looked over the three of you adoringly before standing from the bed. You sat up in response to his retreating figure, only to have a hand placed against your chest. "He'll be back," Edward assured you, gently pushing you back down to the bed.
Before either you or Izzy could question it, Stede had returned just like Edward said he would. He was holding a bowl of warm water and a washcloth.
The Gentleman Pirate, living up to his name, cleaned the three of you up. All of you preening under his attention, which made him smile. Once he was finished, he placed his tools to the side and carefully crawled over the three of you to lay between you and the window.
With a yawn of your own, you curled into Izzy's chest, nuzzling into him as he embraced you. Stede pressed up behind you while Edward mimicked the position behind Izzy.
The captains' arms spread out over the two of you and over each other, making sure each of you were touching. The four of you impossibly close, blanket draped over your frames, falling asleep to the sound of murmured sweet nothings.
"Goodnight, my loves."
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Text
Reasons I Dislike The Obi-Wan Series
So I've seen an influx of Tumblr posts saying that people who don't like the OWK series or critic it a lot are just delusional, Star Wars haters, weirdos or better yet 'cis het white men with no life and can't let other people enjoy the content' .
I'm not gonna lie and say that there really aren't those type of people in the fandom but considering most of us who express our criticism of the series 'jobless whites' is a stretch too far. And as a brown woman who's a non-star wars hater and currently with a job (😅), I'd like to critic the show and give a few reasons as to why I dislike the show.
As people who follow me (NOT YOU, P*RNBOTS!) might know, I'm a huge Obi-Wan Kenobi fan. I have been since I've read John Miller's Kenobi (if you guys haven't read it, then please do. It's really good!). I love the prequels Obi-Wan, but the novel really kinda made me go insane about Obi-Wan- his strength, his compassion, his will power, his suffering, his loneliness...... And for every thing he's been through, he's always firmly stayed on the light side. He's a dedicated, hardworking jedi who has sacrificed and served unconditionally; to the order and the republic and to Anakin (yeah no, you can't convince me otherwise).
So imagine my happiness when the first trailer of the series came out. I was SOOOOO excited! I loved the trailer. The hopelessness when Obi-Wan says 'The fight is done. We lost. Stay hidden', the tension in Obi-Wan's and Owen's interaction and the terrifying ominousness of Vader's breathing (I think that's when the whole Star Wars fandom just exploded)
But alas, after the series ended, my view on the series had done a total 180°. It wasn't the worst show I've seen but the plot conveniences, the plot itself, the OOC-ness of some of the characters and the multiple times they broke canon to have the "epic" final fight between Vader and Obi-Wan aren't really unnoticeable or forgivable. Some moments and issues stuck out of the show like a sore thumb and made the whole viewing experience a bit terrible tbh.
Here's a few of the many that i just can't help but mentally scowl about:
Why does Obi-Wan leave Vader to live? After hearing from Vader's own mouth that his beloved former padawan no longer exists. That he was "killed" by Vader. At this point, Obi-Wan knew that Vader had committed heinous crimes, murdered children and innocents, one instant of which Obi-Wan was a witness to in Mapuzo and that he's powerful sith apprentice and a lap dog of the Emporer. Vader was weak and Obi-Wan had the opportunity to kill him, save the galaxy, especially the rebels. Weaken the empire's forces and take the emperor down to free the galaxy..... So WHY THE FUCK did he not kill him? For the safety of the rebels, the Skywalker children, the goddamn galaxy! But he just.... said 'Goodbye Darth' and left like a coward. #Not_my_ObiWan
Why did Vader not command the inquisitors in the Star Destroyer to go after the rebels when he went after Obi-Wan? I know that Vader "killed" Anakin but I'm pretty sure he hasn't killed his intelligence and I'm also pretty sure that the emperor wouldn't let a fool command his fleet. And moreover, Vader is known for his fierce determination and horrific strategies that would lead to his victory no matter the cost. So WHY, OH WHY did he shut down the third brother when he tried to suggest that they follow the rebel ship? Vader had his own ship and i know for a fact that the star destroyer carries many tie-fighters.... Uggghhhh, moving to the next point!
Why did Reva go off to kill Luke? Like what was her point? 'Anakin killed my kid friends so I'm gonna kill the kid who's probably associated to him'. Really??? All she hears from the comm is Owen-Luke-Tattooine and somehow she pieces it together that Luke is Vader's son? This is more embarrassing if you think that she made no connection to Anakin from Luke at all and just went about trying to kill a kid cuz she heard an idiotic man on the comm trying to reach Obi-Wan.
Bringing me to the fact that Bail Organa is fucking idiot. Not only does he not give a fuck about endagering Obi-Wan and Luke by showing up at Obi-Wan's cave UNNANNOINCED, to ask ONLY Obi-Wan's help to rescue Leia but he does that after Obi-Wan refuses to the first time. Bruh.... There are many people capable of rescuing a kid from silly thugs who struggle to catch a 10 year old when they give a "chase". That includes guess what?Ding Ding Ding.... Bounty Hunters. Ding Ding Ding.... the rebels! Ding Ding Ding.... the other Jedi who aren't protecting Luke.... But nah, he just shows up at Obi-Wan's and forces Obi-Wan to concede cuz "Only they know how important Leia is"..... *deep sigh*. Intricacies aside, it wasn't at all convincing to me why it should be Obi-Wan who rescues Leia rather than anybody else.
The last is the fact that the whole story was about Leia and Obi-Wan, rather than it being about Obi-Wan on Tattooine protecting Luke in a discrete fashion. Now, don't misunderstand, I love Leia. And I love the little girl who played her really well. But think about it. When Obi-Wan decided to become 'one with the force', why was Luke who barely knew Obi-Wan the only one to feel the anguish at his death? If Leia already knew Obi-Wan and connected with him so much during this whole ordeal, why didn't she react at all at this moment? Why didn't she say anything after, in the entire trilogy??? It doesn't make any sense! Also, I feel that it was a missed opportunity by making the story about Leia, when it should've been about Obi-Wan's life in Tattooine. How he was suffering from trauma after ORDER 66. How he still had to push himself to wake up every day, because he had taken the responsibility to look after Luke. How he overcame all tribulations that he faced with his past and his new life in Tattooine. How he finds hope again, with Luke and with new people that he meets. Instead the story that we get is just....meh.
And here's a few more that made me cringe when I rewatched the show
- The whole chase scene where 4 thugs try to catch a 10 year old who slips by them with ease, while they are coming from different directions.
- Making what should've been an epic scene where Obi-Wan fires up his saber after 10 long years into a pathetic one. (Like, I know he was scared, but then what was the point of him lighting up his saber for the first time after so many years when the moment was just made to look dull and unappealing.)
- Again, Obi-Wan himself not being able to get hold of Leia when she was mostly in his fingers' grasp the whole sequence, in another pitiful attempt of a chase scene.
- Leia asking if he was her father and his reply being 'I wish I was'? My brother in Christ, f*cking elaborate that you mean that 'Any father would be lucky to have you as a daughter'. Cuz it comes off as 'I wish I was the one who fucked Padme'🤐
- Roken saying he can't help Obi-Wan, then immediately agrees to help him.
- Tala just leaving a 10 year old to rescue a grown ass Jedi, only for Leia to get captured by Reva.
- Vader just letting Obi-Wan go after he dragged him through fire, Tala Tala and the robot "rescue" him.
- Reva not sensing that the kid is force sensitive when she's trying to mind-read Leia and gets nothing.
- Vader not sensing that there are no life forms in the ship he's stopping from escaping and ignoring the ship full of rebels and Obi-Wan right beside it.
- People not dying when they get stabbed by a goddamn lightsaber. (Although I don't exactly blame the series alone for this as its a reccuring theme in Star Wars)
- Obi-Wan making a deal with Reva then completely betraying her, even after finding out that she was a Jedi Youngling. #NOT_MY_OBIWAN
- Obi-Wan coming out to face Vader in episode 3, then proceeds to run away like a scaried little coward. I'm sry, I know that he's scared to face the kid he loved and that he's not at all strong as he was once. But there must be a reason as to why he tells Tala to take Leia to safety, right? Because he's willing to distract Vader while Leia gets away, right? So he must have some plan or a strategy (however reckless or useless it is) to draw Vader's attention away from Leia, right? So WTF was he doing running away like a chicken? #NOT_MY_OBIWAN!!!!!
- Beru doesn't wanna out other people's life in danger when she learns that Reva is after Luke. So she says she and Owen are enough to defend the house. But dear, oh dear, they decide to keep Luke in the house knowing that he was in danger??? They could've arranged for something, to keep Luke safe. But nope! Ha ha! That's exactly what they don't do.... 😒
Some of the things I THINK (subjective) should've have been included in the series-
Exploration of Obi-Wan's life in Tattooine (they do show it, but they don't go in depth)
Luke's childhood
Obi-Wan protecting Luke without Luke even realizing what is going on or who the man is (Badass Obi-Wan in hand-to-hand fights and using his wit rather than the force or his lightsaber to kick ass!)
More arguments between Owen and Obi-Wan about Luke
People trying to pry into Obi-Wan's secluded life and trying to include him in shit he doesn't wanna involve himself in (This could've been really funny, lol!)
Obi-Wan finding out about Vader but not actually facing him at all (We could've seen how this information actually completely breaks him. But at the same time, this increases his responsibility towards protecting Luke)
Some snippets from the Kenobi novel like how others feel and think about Obi-Wan
Flashbacks from the Clone Wars era where Obi-Wan and Anakin fight side by side, protecting and being there for each other. And Obi-Wan in that armor 🥵(No!!!!! Why wasn't this there!???)
The writers wanted to subvert our expectations, so they made the story to be about Leia and Obi-Wan, rather than about Obi-Wan, Luke and Tattooine. I'm not a fan of this, but i understand if many people liked it. Vader could've been shown to be terrifying and evil outside the plot. But the writers didn't bother showing anything else about him other than his obsession with Obi-Wan. They could've expanded on Vader and Reva's stories to go in depth about Reva's motivations and her hatred towards Obi-Wan and Vader.
It's not just the writing that's the problem here. The cinematography also sucks. Why are most of the places the characters go to so damn bland and lifeless (metaphorically)? The duels between Obi-Wan and Vader were made to be a dull affair because there was nothing environmentally to influence the fight scenes. Compare both the duels with the Mustafar one. That one was dynamic, bright, engaging and a spectacle tbh. While the fights in this show looked literally dull.
Coming to the fights itself.... Deborah Chow cannot film any to save her life. She's done well with the other scenes, but when it comes to action sequences, they were horrendously done. The shaky cams, their weird moment around the characters, the not-so-great fight choreography, the dull environment and the borderline OOC-ness of the characters fighting. (Be honest. Do you really think Obi-Wan would start throwing rocks at his former padawan with a smirk on his face? As if to show his power over him. Cuz Obi-Wan doesn't care about power. He cares about saving people!)
So yeah, I didn't like the show at all. Even if I consider it a standalone one, it would still be bad. Most of you might say I'm nitpicking, but we all have different boundaries and limits.
That doesn't mean I'm not open to different perspectives and that I'm shitting on your opinion. If you loved the show, you loved it and I respect that. So don't hesitate to comment your opinions on this post.
My NEW rating for the show- 5.5/10
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valentinecult · 2 years
Note
Just asking from your perspective as a fan, but how much of the Predator franchise is considered canon? I've read a ton of crossovers (Batman versus Predator/Superman versus Aliens etc)... but how much of the info on Predators is accepted?
It's a lot to cover on what is considered canon and believe it or not, some crossover stories create a lot of confusion and division among the fanbase. Oh, I'm sure you heard of Marvel bringing in the hunters into their own universe, pitting them against the superheroes (I'd kill to see Spider-Man going up against a Veteran Predator <3).
But for the sake of simplicity, I'll keep it grounded on the Predators' own universe, movies, and comics that tie into the movies. I'll even add in tidbits of the Alien franchise. Be prepared, this might be a loooong post XD
The most famous 'crossover' that accepted as canon (despite some fans regarding it as not) is Alien vs. Predator. Everybody obviously knows that one Easter egg in Predator 2 that showed the City Hunter's trophy collection and what do we see?
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The skull of an alien aka the Xenomorph. That's enough to confirm that both franchises and their respective stories are canon and linked together officially!
Now, lets dive into the WHOLE Predator franchise and the canon timeline.
In Alien vs. Predator, the story established that the Predators had came to Earth since 3000 D.C., the Temple Building Era and were a major influence to human civilization and culture.
Now, we fast forward to 1718 The Adolini Hunt and 1719 where the movie Prey takes place. This...is rather confusing for various reasons. Originally, the comic Predator 1718 was considered canon because it featured Raphael Adolini, the owner of the famous pistol from Predator 2 that was carried by the Elder Predator known as Greyback. In that story, Raphael was a pirate captain and an absolute badass, which is why Greyback respected him and took the pistol in honor of him.
Unfortunately, the Adolini pistol story changed and the comic book isn't canon anymore (*facepalms*) because of Prey. Raphael wasn't a pirate captain, just a member of the French Trappers that helps them with translation. After dying, he passed the pistol to Naru, making her the new owner of the firearm. We get to see an ominous end credit scene that displayed various Predator ships invading Naru's village, it's safe to assume that it is Greyback and his clan. He probably obtained the pistol from Naru from that point on.
That's not the only thing that changed. According to the director and his crew, the Feral Predator is said to be the first Predator to have arrived on Earth, which isn't true as evidence suggested in Predator 2 and Alien vs. Predator that these hunters all have been visiting Earth since the dinosaur era! This could be an oversight or retcon to the story. Perhaps more specifically, the Feral Predator could be the first of his own clan to have arrived on Earth.
So, Prey has a few changes and possible retcons (still a badass and awesome movie ^_^ b).
We move forward into the modern era and this is from what I believe was the Alien vs. Predator novel. Charles Weyland written a report about what happened to the Norwegian whaling station before the events of Alien vs. Predator.
By 1904, a successful Norwegian whaling station was operating out of Bouvet Island off the Antarctic coast. According to the controversial Charles Bishop Weyland report ("Alien vs. Predator"), on an unknown date, the settlement claimed to experience a number of mysterious events that ranged from unidentifiable lights in the sky to unusual seismic activity. The Weyland report claims that the whalers eventually retrieved an object from the ice — a metal pod that released a Yautja.
The report further claims the Yautja annihilated the whalers along with a number of Xenomorph drones that had been somehow released from the alleged temple, long since frozen in the ice. The entirety of the Weyland report remains in doubt, and there is no physical evidence to support that the 1904 desertion of Razorback was due to localized intergalactic conflict. It may be possible to re-open this investigation as a tragic mass hysteria incident such as the Smalls Lighthouse disaster or the 2016 clown panic.
Now we go into the events of the first Predator movie and lets assume the movie release date years are the same as the in-lore dates.
1987- The Guatemalan Slaughter (Predator)
We all know the story of Dutch and his team of mercenaries. This is the first Predator in history to take on modern day soldiers. Prior to the events of the movie, the hunter already killed off another team of soldiers before Dutch and his friends arrived in the jungle. So, this Predator must’ve been hunting for a while. 
After successfully defeating the Predator, Dutch survived, but his involvement to the Predator franchise doesn’t end there. 
1990 - The Los Angeles Wave (Predator 2)
Another hunter enters the hunting grounds, the City Hunter and this introduces the group known as the OWLF (Other Worldly Life Forms program). Peter Keyes and the organization were secretly investigating the 1987 incident with little help from Dutch. So the OWLF have been dealing with aliens, most especially the Predators/Yautja for a while. The organization expressed great interest and admiration for the Predators’ advanced technology and wanted it for themselves. This obsession over the hunting tech is probably one of the main reasons why hunters NEED to activate the wrist bomb should they fail their hunt or if they are in critical condition to continue. So the OWLF was presented as a major threat to the Yautja species. 
Unfortunately for Keyes, the OWLF soldiers were picked off by the City Hunter due to the Predators’ different vision modes from their biomask. So at that moment, the OWLF probably underestimated the Predators and assumed from limited intel that they can track your heat signatures. Secondly, Predators demonstrated from that point that they’re very adaptive to their environment and they are always advancing their technology.
2004 - The Weyland Report and Gunnison Incident (Alien vs. Predator and Requiem (2007, but in lore it takes place in 2004) )
In this timeline, we are now in the events of Alien vs. Predator. With the true identity of Charles Bishop Weyland in doubt, much of the rest of the 2004 incident is questionable because the Weyland-Yutani history is unclear and the actor Lance Henrikson played different people with the last name Weyland, good lord...it hurts my head. That’s one of the few reasons why fans express doubt that AVP is canon, despite the connections and evidence given. 
Anyway, the AVP story...
Independently wealthy, Weyland gathered a small crew of experts from a variety of fields to investigate the Bouvet Island "temple" location ("Alien vs. Predator"). 
Upon arrival at the ruins of Razorback Station, this field team, along with Charles, claimed to enter the temple via a tunnel alleged to be of recent Yautja creation.Inside the temple, the team entered a conflict between Yautja and the reawakened Xenomorphs. Weyland is alleged to have died in the temple to help other field team members to escape. One survivor, Lex (Sanaa Latham), claims to have allied with the Yautja to push back a possible Xenomorph escape. With the temple and its Xenomorph queen destroyed, the alliance was successful. There is no clear evidence of Weyland's actual goal. However, a diagnosis of terminal lung cancer may have been a factor in his actions.
It’s unknown what happened to Lex after the events. Lex's story is uncorroborated, though OWLF later recovered a Yautja-style bone spear. Once again, the OWLF is involved! 
Next, Requiem and the events take place in the same year of the first film. 
The mystery of Charles Bishop Weyland is compounded by the involvement of someone who claims to be a Ms. Yutani (Françoise Yip), who may have also released the initial Razorback Station report. Miss Yutani's secondary report alleges that a further situation arose from the Bouvet Island temple encounter, involving a mutated Yautja, or rather a Predator with Xenomorph characteristics. 
This chaotic and generally unreliable report suggests that not only was the town of Gunnison, Colorado, at the mercy of a Yautja attempting to contain this "Predalien" situation but that it went out of control so far as to require a scorched earth response from the United States military. To date, there is no confirmed tactical nuclear response — much less on U.S. soil — and no global radiation reading to suggest the Gunnison event happened. In truth, this situation may be best explained as a false flag report left as a watermark to trap an agent selling confidential documents with the event taken out of context by conspiracy theorists.
2010 - The Game Preserve Abduction (Predators)
The introduction of Bad Blood Predators and different Predator species. Through unknown circumstances, a team of highly trained killers with vastly different origins were abducted by several hunters and placed on another planet that takes on the likeness of Earth’s jungles (and hilariously enough, this literally blew my mind XD). 
When the group encountered a Yautja that is tied to a tree, Isabelle, one of the Elites, recognized the alien and referenced the 1987 Guatemalan massacre and Dutch’s survival. Originally, the film crew had the idea of bringing Dutch back into the movie as the most experienced member, but supposedly Arnold had other plans going on and the film likely would cause schedule issues.
Oh yeah, everything is all coming together. It’s all making sense. Now we’re talking. 
2018 - Precursor to alleged invasion threat
As much as I don’t care for this movie, I unfortunately need to include it because it expands more on the Predators and the entire franchise. Anyway, The Predator...
Once again, the annoying and stubborn OWLF is BACK! OWLF's later reports of an incident within an unidentified U.S. suburb ("The Predator," 2018) do not leave investigators with a clear understanding of events. What is known is that a Yautja landed near an active military operation, getting into conflict with soldier Quinn McKenna. 
During this time, the OWLF is replaced by another organization that is more intent on studying the Yautja. Meet...Stargazer! Stargazer is the new and better OWLF! Who is the man in charge of the operations? Meet Sean Keyes, son of Peter Keyes from Predator 2!
The Fugitive Predator, despite killing humans and being violent, wanted to deliver a weapon called the Predator Killer to mankind to fend off the incoming Predator invasion (not really a Predator’s forte but then again, not all Predators follow the same tradition and rules.)
This film made reference to the first and second films, connecting the lore all together, despite a few errors with the dates (CinemaSins on Youtube pointed out this silly mistake lol).
2020 and beyond (2025) - OWLF Expansion and more hunters become active. (Predator Hunting Grounds)
Surprise surprise. The video game Predator Hunting Grounds ties majority of the films into its lore. It’s confirmed that Dutch is alive and Isabelle managed to escape the game preserved planet from Predators. Both characters are now dedicating their lives in hunting and killing Predators. 
It’s suggested in the game that more Predators are becoming active and according to Dutch, better and more skilled hunters are encountered almost daily. This introduces the female Predators into the franchise and as said in my previous posts, the females don’t screw around, but the same could be said about the males. 
The human race at this point is sparking up a lot of interest for the Yautja species. They are sending in a lot of hunters to go after people the Yautja deem as worthy prey. If we connect this back to The Predator movie, this could the supposed invasion that the Fugitive Predator was trying to prevent. 
It’s unknown what happened to the Predator Killer suit, so I suspect it is ‘retgone’ out of the story or the Predators managed to retrieve it from Stargazer. 
The lore can be told from the audio entries made by Dutch and Sean Keyes. It’s revealed that after the first movie, Dutch has been secretly providing information for the OWLF about his encounter with these hunters and possibly the one who told them about Predators seeing heat signatures through their mask. Dutch met Sean’s father in a hospital where the former mercenary was suffering radiation sickness from the wrist bomb of the Jungle Hunter. Luckily for him, Dutch discovered that the blood of the Yautja can prolong a human’s lifeforce. This explains why Dutch is able to continue fighting and killing Predators, despite being an old man. He even said that he feels like his younger self again. 
Up until now, Dutch is determined to push the Predators back and willing to send a message to them that humans are not to be messed with. However, the hunters aren’t backing down from a challenge. I’m not sure how long Dutch has to continue fighting because after his encounter with a female Predator, he should’ve been dead, but I guess the female knew who he was and was setting a lesson and a warning that not all hunters are the same nor pushovers. 
Long story short, this is what I believe is accepted as canon to the franchise, despite a few retcons and oversights. 
Prey
Predator
Predator 2
Alien vs. Predator
Aliens vs. Predator: Requiem
Predators
The Predator
Predator Hunting Grounds (video game)  
Anyone that wishes to add onto these are welcome to do so. 
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pxrplerose · 2 years
Text
Just some thoughts about Dazai and Oda
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This is just a rambling of my thoughts on Dazai and Oda's friendship that I've been having since rewatching bsd, reading the untold origins of the detective agency and the day i picked up dazai light novel (so, spoilers about Oda's appearance in the first and one biiig spoiler for the second that I did this to) (Also, thanks a lot Popopretty for the translation). I'm also halfway through the dark era light novel but I just can't bring myself to finish because the pain. And disclaimer, I do not ship them at all. This is just my perception of their friendship.
Oda saw his younger self in Dazai
Oda's first chronological appearance is when he was just a teenager, around Ranpo's age. There isn't much information about him, just that he happens to be a very skilled assassin. What made him become a criminal so early in his life? Who knows. But something clear about 14 year old Oda, is that he already had a dark vision of life, which is only natural considering the life he was currently having. He seemed to have already given up on finding any sort of positive meaning, his words to Fukuzawa are too contrasting from the Oda we see later on the story as Dazai's friend, almost as if he was a different person:
"I don't need forgiveness. There is no forgiveness in this world. There is only retaliation━revenge against those who betray you".
And the description of him by Fukuzawa:
"The boy's dark brown eyes were frighteningly vacant, void of even a fragment of emotion[...] Fukuzawa suddenly recalled a rumour he had heard about a young redheaded hit man who wielded two pistols and coldly killed his targets while never showing any emotion".
"The boy looked back at Fukuzawa with lifeless eyes━not the way one would expect a boy to look at the person choking them unconscious".
"His empty, emotionless eyes were a reddish brown [...] Even Fukuzawa, who had faced numerous villains and assassins, had never seen eyes like his. Most skilled hit men looked down on others as if they were insects. Their eyes were cold and lacked compassion. But this boy's were different. They weren't cold or any temperature. They were just empty. Not only was there no compassion or kidness, there was no hate or passion to kill. His eyes were those of a person who had given up all hope and despair━the eyes of a person who had removed himself from emotional things".
I found these parts so heartbreaking, since these descriptions came with no other information. What happened to Oda for him to become an assassin? Did he have a family? In the same novel, Ranpo, who's the focus, is mentioned to be wandering by himself and barely surviving because his parents passed away, but he did live a good life with them before they died. With Oda and Dazai, we know nothing about their childhoods, just that they ended up in the dark side somehow (How did Dazai get in Mori's hands after his suicide attempt? Why has he in that environment? Who knows! Until Asagiri gives us that Dazai background story light novel lol). Dazai, just like Oda, was also seen as a teenager who already looked empty, but, his emptiness, because of the job he executed in quite a terrifying way was often linked to his own dark intentions, to some inner evilness. Oda, on the other hand, saw him like "a child who was about to burst into tears". From their first meeting, Oda figured Dazai was most likely involved in sketchy things which meant he was dangerous, and still decided to help him.
Now, the main difference between Dazai and Oda lies in the fact that Dazai seemed to enjoy the violence he inflicted, for example, during Fifteen where he quite literally keeps shooting even after the person is already dead until Chuuya stops him (antisocial tendencies, methinks, but that's a topic for another day). He was often described as ruthless and to be feared, just a wicked person in general even at such a young age. Even now at the detective agency, Dazai doesn't mind using people among other things (I won't get too deep into this since it's not the point, and no, I don't think he's the exact same person he was in the Port Mafia, but some small essence of course would have to remain hidden somewhere. Not ruthless, but not exactly the kindest person you know, you get me).
I believe Oda found this out along the way. At first, seeing such a young boy with the same emptiness he once showed in his own eyes when young, it resonated in him.
"I look at the young man. He is just staring at the ceiling. No emotions, no intents. Just a flat expression, like one who is just telling his age. I cannot believe my own eyes. I don’t even feel like there is a human there".
But after spending more time with him, he most likely realized that sort of emptiness was just too different from his: Oda found a purpose, comitted to it until his last day, and helped people because of it. Dazai would never be able to find his own reason to live, that he craved the most. He didn't find it in the mafia like he intended, and Oda warned him that he would probably not be able to find it anywhere else either. But still, he asked him to try it out and be in the good side, to do something similar to what he did in hopes he would at least find it a bit more beautiful.
So, you can say Oda saw his hopelessness in someone else, who was also just a teenager like he had been, even though they were very different from each other. Oda had some kidness hidden inside of him, had a sense of justice and felt the need to deal with the consequences of his past mistakes from a young age (Ex. Fukuzawa offering to get him out of jail in exchange for information and him refusing to leave. He didn't seem to spend much time in jail, though). Possessing these qualities helped him find his purpose, pushed by Natsume. Dazai, as genius as he is, also has a past of murder━not for his survival but for some sort of thrill, and played a big part in the infamous cycle of abuse in this story. Even though his current self is in the good side and he's helped Yokohama with his intellect, he remains a morally gray character, the most balanced between good and bad. It's up to him to see if he will ever truly redeem himself, and we have yet to look at the world through his own point of view, to see what sort of qualities he has inside.
The depth of their friendship, and my own questions about Dazai's grief
"That was when Dazai first realized: Sakunosuke Oda understood him much more than he'd ever imagined━right up to his very heart, almost to the center of his mind. Dazai didn''t realize until then that someone had known him so well".
One of Oda's more representative traits is that he was a listener. He took the time to listen to Dazai go on about his nonsense, his suicidal tendencies, about pretty much anything Dazai was willing to share. He had the time to get to know him, to look through him, and even empathize, something the people around Dazai had never done. He was seen like he was either ill, crazy, evil. But, with Oda, just a few days into knowing each other, they were already exchanging crazy stories about their lives and creating a bond. In the past, Oda had told Fukuzawa he had spent years alone and didn't really feel the need to have friends, and Dazai probably felt too foreign to ever form friendships, before Oda and Ango (now, we know how things ended with Ango and that's also for another day).
Dazai was the realest, rawest, during Dark Era. His portrayal, the moments spent with Oda, almost made you forget he was a vile criminal and trauma-inducing mentor. He had fun, trusted his friend, made sure to share the information he had found to him and didn't hesitate to make his own subordinates protect him. Even if he didn't understand his motives to not kill people, he did all he could to help, like a friend naturally does.
I wonder how Dazai's grieving process was like. He probably felt guilt, for being the reason Oda joined the Port Mafia in the first place, and for feeling like he could've done more to avoid his death. This is very common when someone close to you dies, you blame yourself somehow, like you didn't do enough. For someone as smart and brilliant as Dazai, he didn't have a clue Mori was behind the entire charade, like he trusted Oda's ability to survive, until he came to the realization that his death was something meant to happen since the very beginning. It's like he never thought there was a possibility his friends could get taken away: Ango, in his own ways, was just good at what he did (the proof is in how he's still standing LOL) and probably too boring for him to consider he was a triple agent, yet he ended up being "a traitor" (in Dazai's eyes). Oda was too good at surviving because, regretful or not, he had an assassin past to back him up, an ability literally related to the future that was like winning the lottery, and the will to live, so, he was untouchable in his eyes. The perfect part of his life, the most normal part of it, was abruptly taken away. Even if he uncovered Ango's "betrayal" very soon into the story, even after finding out who Mimic were, even when [x12768], he didn't put two and two together, the way ADA Dazai does and we constantly see. That really must have shaken him back then.
Again, Dazai has shown the most genuine and raw emotions in the entire story in the moments of desperation regarding Oda. Trying to stop him, and in his last moments, when Oda is opening up. It's far from the confident, neutral, Dazai we saw in the first season and continued seeng during the anime. He acts detached again, but in a different way. He's not seen as evil and ruthless anymore, but it's like he has a mask on. He has everything under control, he smiles because he knows it, he predicts and is one step before everyone else. Something he couldn't do to save his friend.
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Dazai only knew Oda for two years, so one might ask, what is it that made him so attached? Why did he throw his whole life away? Is that time even enough for such a bond to form? That's something I wonder if Dazai ever wonders himself. By the time he joined the detective agency, he had spent the same amount of time without Oda as the time spent with him. That messes with your head. The days seem close yet far away, I don't even know if there's a name to that one realization. And years keep passing, they double the amount of time you spent with the person you lost. Then that time becomes a miniscule part of your life, almost as if it didn't happen. The memories get blurry. That's the scariest part of losing someone. But I'm a firm believer time isn't the only factor that makes a friendship meaningful, it's about the positive influence, the good moments, the amount of trust, the depth, the uncovering of one self, and when your friend passes away, the feelings you still have for them no matter how much time passes. Oda has been the person who has gotten closer to that depth of Dazai, and those two years were enough for him to leave the biggest impact in such a complex person. Does Dazai still act based on Oda's final wish? I don't think so, personally (that's also for another dayyy I have so much to say about bsd helpp).
He can remind himself about that turning moment at times, reminisce about the old days like he's been shown to, eventually create new strong bonds when he decides to open up more, like he once did, and the impact is still going to be there, no matter what. Atsushi is probably whom Dazai is the closest currently, not just because he's the orphan he's helping, but because he has a kind nature and talent. And Dazai has the opportunity to be the figure Oda once was for him, in his own way.
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In conclusion, this genuinely was just some random rant about my perception of Oda and Dazai's friendship (and some small Atsushi mention at the end LOL). I still feel so broken Oda had to die, don't mind me and my nonsense.
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valberryy · 3 years
Text
oh, eurydice (it's an awful sound). — venti
de l'autre côté de l'eau, comme un écho. / tu dis que c'est la fin du monde, c'est ton silence mon eau profonde.
um,, idk what to say cause i dont want this to b my venti summoning post but. anyways. also tagging @starfell-traveler look i finished it!!!! b proud of me /hj
pairing: venti x gn!reader
content warnings: mentions/descriptions of alcohol & blood/injuries, major character death, it's just heavy angst i'm sorry
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one.
Venti still remembers the first time he heard you laugh, warm and clear and bright, like the chiming of cathedral-bells.
In those golden days when he was getting used to his new face, he often found himself wandering—much to the chagrin of his friends. If he wasn't in one of the many taverns of the newly-built Mondstadt, he was wandering these new, free lands.
And that was how he met you, the spritely scion of house Gunnhildr, who had strayed away from your envoy with a bottle of wine and leaves in your hair. He noted the mischief dancing in your eyes, the sunlight dappling on your skin, the way your mouth formed a small "o" when you saw you were not alone.
Your eyes had lit up when you caught sight of him. "Oh, my lord!" you called, "Fancy a cup and a chat, perhaps?"
Venti stood still for a moment to ponder your request, but at the sound of you popping the cork off the bottle and pouring it into a cup you had brought, he found his resolve weakening. He took a seat next to you as you pulled a stray leaf from your hair, taking a sip from your cup before passing it to him.
How brazen of you, he mused.
While cherry wine, in his opinion, could never hold a candle to the dandelion wine he had grown fond of, it tasted all the sweeter coming from you.
You had laughed at this sentiment of his, clear as the water from the lake nearby. "Is that so?" you asked. "Perhaps I'll bring some more of this kind especially for you, dearest bard."
Venti responded with a playful pluck at his lyre-strings. "I'd prefer if you called me by my name, young master Gunnhildr."
"And what would that be?"
Just as he was about to respond, the two of you caught wind of voices yelling out your name, and you flinched. "That must be for me," you said. "I shouldn't have expected to be able to hide forever."
He helped you stand, stretching out his arm to pull you up—your hand was soft and warm against his own, and the "thank you," that rolled from your lips made his heart flutter in a way he wasn't used to.
"I'd love to see you again," you said, and he smiled.
"You talk as if this is goodbye forever!" Venti joked. "We can meet here again, if you so wish."
"Then it is done," you said, and squeezed his hand as if in confirmation of your new arrangement.
And with the lightest press of your wine-stained lips to his cheek, you had run off without another word—only the sound of your distant laughter and, "Sorry, sorry! I'm back now, mother!" left in your wake.
two.
That promise had soon become habit, and habit a new way of life—one wherein you would sneak away from the rest of your family to rendezvous with Venti in the forest, to share wine and song and sweet, honeyed words alike.
(And as time wore on, you pressed your wine-stained lips to more places than just his cheek, and the cheeky bastard would have you do it again, and again, and again.)
"What d'you reckon your family would say if they figured out you were sneaking away for this?" Venti mused, "Like a hero in a romance novel."
With a laugh, you lay your head over his lap and smiled when his hand came to rest in your hair, his fingers gently playing with the strands. "Scold me, I suppose," you said. "There are worse fates than not being allowed outside for a month, my love." 
You plucked a stray dandelion out of his hair, blowing the seeds to the wind. 
"Hmm? And what would those be, I wonder?"
"...You're so infuriating, Venti," you grumbled, and he simply laughed and took another sip of wine—elderflower this time, tasting like spring upon his tongue. "I can't even dare imply that I want to be with you forever without you teasing me for it—what kind of lover are you? Hmph."
He paused, a teasing grin growing on his lips despite your previous words. "Are you asking me to marry you?"
An odd noise left your throat. "I mean," you said, "unless you want me to take your surname instead? ...Now that I think about it, Venti Gunnhildr doesn't quite sound the best."
A laugh, first from him, soon followed by one of your own. "Your family won't allow it, would they? But if the fates allow…there's nothing I'd love more than to be with you," he said. Gently he untangled his fingers from your hair, weaving his fingers between your own instead. "That is, if you want it too?"
A world of just you and him, a life where he would never have to stray far from your side—perhaps this was what Amos so desperately craved for, in those days. Venti watched as you removed the signet ring from your pointer finger and fit it snugly on his own, admiring your handiwork and smiling up at him.
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
three.
Somehow it felt odd to see you in clothes other than the casual attire he had always seen you in. When you were seated upon your horse like this, dressed in richly-dyed leathers and embroidered silks with your family crest hanging proudly from your breast pocket, you seemed much less like the cheeky [Name] that would pluck his lyre from his hands to play your own tune, and more like the young scion of house Gunnhildr that the rest of the world saw you as.
"I'm sorry, dearest," you said, your voice thick with regret. "They only told me about this last night, so I've had no time to tell you… And father wouldn't let me refuse, so—"
Venti laughed, "When did you become such a worrywart? It's only one round of hunting, right? I'll be waiting for you back here."
You huffed, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Then I'll be sure to hurry on back to you."
He pulled you back down for another kiss, square on the lips this time, before letting you go. "Don't miss!" he said, calling after your horse, to which you turned and yelled back at him,
"If I do, it's your fault!"
He laughed, settling down beneath a tree and closing his eyes. You'd be there to wake him when you returned.
When Venti awoke, it was not to your hand shaking his shoulder but to a thud and the worried whinnying of a horse. His eyes snapped open as you groaned, one hand clutching your stomach and the other propping you up. When you caught his gaze you smiled weakly, too much blood in your teeth and not enough light in your eyes.
"I'm back, dearest," you said, and he had stumbled over to catch you before your arm gave out.
He pressed down on your torso, where three large gashes ran down from your chest down to your stomach, large and jagged as if from the claws of a bear. You groaned in pain and he pressed a kiss to your hand in apology, your skin pale and clammy in a way that reminded him too much of harsh, cold winds and a boy with his lyre. 
"You should've seen me, Venti," you breathed, "I shot it right in the throat…are you proud of me?"
"Very," he said. "I'll always be proud of you."
You laughed, broken and pained and sad. "Good," you said, "good." Then you looked up at him, the tears welling in his eyes, the reality of his fate—your fate—finally looming upon him. "Don't look at me like that, love," you cooed. "Please, smile for me, okay? Sing for me…can you spare me at least that much?"
His grip on your hand tightened. "All of that and so much more, dandelion," he said. "Please…"
"So much more, huh…" you mused. "Then, how about one last kiss before I go?"
"...You talk as if this is goodbye," he says, but doesn't protest when you pull him down by the collar, your red-stained lips pressing weakly against his—
—But instead of the sweetness of wine, there was only the sharp bitterness of your blood in his mouth.
four.
"How far would you go for me?" was something Venti had thrown around a lot, never expecting you to give him a straight answer—not with how you shoved his shoulder and said, "Just because there wasn't a ceremony doesn't mean I'm not your spouse, Venti. Wouldn't the answer be obvious?"
But he still recalled the first time he had asked you and the first time you answered, your fingers tangled with his and your head buried in the crook of his neck. Your voice had been softer, gentler, lacking the playful edge but just as genuine as always, "From the deepest depths of the ocean to the highest to the highest peaks in the sky," you said, "Until my hands wither away into dust."
"Maybe you're the bard instead of me, love," he had said, then.
In this new world without you he found himself clinging to whatever remnants of you he could—the dappled sunlight in the forest, the slightest sting of alcohol going down, the glint of your family crest on the ring that adorned his finger.
One of his many laments was how he could never mourn you in the way he felt you deserved—he had not the power to turn back time, lacked the dominion over anything static and permanent to immortalise you with. He only had his lyre and his voice and his winds, and all he could do was paint the skies grey in his grief, have the gales sing requiems that you would never hear.
From the deepest depths of the ocean to the highest peaks in the sky he would go for you and back—and if the darkest depths of this world contained the secret to getting you back, perhaps even a mere spirit on the wind could bear the trek through the dark. 
(After all, Venti knew in his heart of hearts that you would have done the same for him.)
The heart of the Abyss wasn't a land of mindless bloodshed and fire—it was cold and calculating, like a predator lying in wait. It was this place, in the depths of Teyvat and in the winding depths of their palace, that he knew could somehow bring you back to him. 
"Are you the one for whom the skies wept, bard?"
Venti swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I am," he said. "I want a deal."
The person before him raised an eyebrow, canting their head to the side. 
"One life," they said, "and no second chances."
Cold, and calculating, and inevitable—but still he would try. Venti owed you at least that much, no?
five.
He squeezed your hand as you trailed behind him, muttering to himself: don't look back, don't look back, don't look back. No matter how much he longed to hold you, to see your face and feel your skin beneath his, he kept his gaze to his feet as you both moved onwards into the dark.
(When he saw you again, just as beautiful as the day he lost you, he dropped his lyre to run into your arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck and surrounding himself with only you, you, you. 
"Venti," you said, and he nearly wept at the way his name rolled from your tongue. "Let's go home.")
You squeezed his hand back, so gently that he almost couldn't believe you were really there. "Why don't you sing me a song, dearest?" you quipped. "Anything you like."
In spite of himself, in spite of the cold around him and behind him and in his own hand, he smiled. "Have I ever sung you the one with the mist flower and the sparrow?"
He heard you huff behind him. "That one again? You know how bad I am at hitting the notes in that!"
"Hmm, sure, sounds like an excuse to me…"
"Venti!"
He laughed and squeezed your hand again, as if to remind himself—you were here, and he was taking you home, and you would be able to feel the sun on your skin and taste wine from his cup in the way you had always loved. He would be able to write you songs and guide your hands across his lyre, and he need never stray far from your side.
You need never go somewhere where he couldn't follow.
"We're almost there," he said, resisting the urge to turn around to smile at you. "There's a bottle of wine waiting for us. It wouldn't do us any good to leave it for too long, you know?"
He squeezed your hand again, but you didn't respond.
He swallowed down the lump in his throat. His footsteps hastened, quicker and quicker until he was near-running towards where he knew the surface lay. Had he been tricked? Were you never there all along? Had you gotten lost, or fallen, or left, and left some other person in your stead?
Anxiety clutched at his heart like brambles, and Venti found his mind wandering back to those days with the wintery winds and the friends he had lost to the storms. Not again, he prayed, please, never again.
He ran until his legs ached, ran until the first drop of sunlight finally kissed his skin, and he let go of your hand to turn around—
—to see your face still shrouded in darkness, your eyes wide, your hand still reaching out for him.
"What?" he breathed, "No, please, I can't lose you again—"
You smiled, and though your teeth weren't coated in blood and your body was free from any wounds, Venti's heart had sunk even further than when he had caught you that day. 
"No, love, please, I'm sorry—"
"Venti," you said, "I'll see you again soon, okay?"
"Please—"
"I love you." 
With whatever time you had left, you reached out further to brush the tips of your fingers against his cheek. "Smile for me, okay? Sing me one last song…" 
And before he could reach out to you again, you had once again gone somewhere he couldn't reach. 
(Yours was a song he sang without end, even when all of Mondstadt had forgotten your name—and even when he felt like he didn't deserve to bear your memory. 
On days when he uncorked a bottle of cherry wine or caught the Acting Grandmaster's eye, Venti found himself staring down at the ring you had placed on his finger in those golden days—and if he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to it the way you had done to him, he swears he can still hear your laugh, warm and clear and bright.)
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citrus-cactus · 3 years
Text
Wallace Appreciation, Day 3
Prompt: Return
Not what I had originally intended to post today… but @shihalyfie made a comment about Wallace and Menoa yesterday that I could NOT stop thinking about, so here is a hastily-written & edited fic which I am super rusty at producing in general orz
Title: Tithonus in the Arms of Rosy-Fingered Dawn
Summary: Takes place just before the events of Last Evolution Kizuna. Wallace bonds wi— is seduced by Menoa Bellucci, earning him a one way, all-expenses-paid trip to Neverland.
Length: ~1200 words
Warnings: Kizuna spoilers, vague acts of passion between two consenting adults.
Rating: T (just to be safe)
A/N: I honestly need to rewatch Kizuna and finish the novel, so I might end up revisiting this to make minor word adjustments or larger changes if I find I accidentally contradicted canon :P
"Dr. Bellucci, are you trying to seduce me?" Wallace asked, raising an eyebrow in equal amounts of intrigue and amusement at the older woman sitting across the table from him.
"I'd prefer it if you just called me Menoa," she said. "And what if I were?" Her tone was as casual as if she had just commented on the weather, but her eyes were gleaming, even mirthful, he noted, and fixed steadily on his. "What would you do about it?"
Wallace considered this for a moment. It had been a strange couple of days already: a phone handed to him by the concierge, an appointment made, a morning spent in the name of digimon research with a gorgeous college professor and her stone-faced colleague, followed by an afternoon of casual conversation and a late lunch at the beachfront restaurant that had now nearly taken them into the evening. Menoa Bellucci was like no academic he had ever met: smart, of course, but also young, passionate, witty—and most of all, interested in him. The two of them had a surprising number of things in common... not to mention, he'd always had a thing for redheads.
"If I'm being honest," he said, keeping his tone light and trying to match the glint in her eyes with one of his own, "I'd let you. Being seduced by a beautiful woman is not something I mind in the slightest."
Menoa took a long draw of the sunset-colored drink in front of her, her lips wrapped around the brightly-colored straw. Wallace's hand tightened unconsciously around his own virgin cocktail, the condensation on the glass already saturating the flimsy cardboard coaster beneath it.
"Your, um… boyfriend. He doesn't mind, though?" he asked.
She laughed at this, a melodic, ringing sound that somehow reminded him of a windchime. "Kyotaro? He's my assistant, nothing more. I'm sure he's locked up in his room already, processing the data we collected on your partners. I wouldn't worry about him."
"Just making sure." He chanced a look down at the beach, where he knew Chocomon and Gummymon were napping peacefully beneath the arching palm trees, still worn out from the morning's interview and subsequent data collection.
"You're sure you're comfortable leaving them out there?" Menoa asked, as if she could tell what he was thinking.
He waved away her concern, grinning as if he wasn't starting to become unnerved by the increasing intensity of her stare. "It's fine. The hotel staff all know me, and the guests never seem to notice things like digimon dozing in beach chairs. They've all seen a dozen stranger things before breakfast. That's the great thing about Florida, no one ever bats an eye."
"I see." She removed the butterfly-shaped tie from her braid and shook out her hair, letting it cascade down her shoulders and back, a firey, flaming red against the navy blue of her swimsuit. In one smooth movement she stood, clasped his hand in hers, and pulled him to his feet.
"You have very pretty hair, Menoa," he said. He knew it sounded childish, but he couldn’t help himself—not around her, it seemed.
She considered him for a moment. “Not the most original line I've ever heard,” she said with a smirk. “But I can see how it would be effective. I’ll bet you’ve used it on everyone you’ve been interested in since you were eleven.”
He chuckled, still impressed by her no-nonsense honesty. "Maybe."
***
The edge of the sun was still visible over the horizon, turning the sea to indigo and painting the sky in broad strokes of orange and yellow. Wallace and Menoa walked side-by-side on the beach, his hand hovering near the small of her back, following wherever she might lead. He was oblivious to where she might be taking him, but as the crowds of beachgoers became more and more sparse it became obvious she was looking for someplace a little more private. His heart began to flutter like a butterfly in his chest.
"Aspens," she murmured suddenly.
"Pardon?"
Her head was turned away from him out to sea, the halo of her hair illuminated in brilliant gold. "Sorry. Don't ask me why, but seeing the ocean always makes me miss the mountains. The aspens in particular." She turned, and now he could see her face in profile, her jawline set in a harder line he'd seen at any other point during the day. "Did you know that a stand of aspen trees are considered a single organism? Each tree is the offshoot of a rhiziomatic root structure, essentially a clone of those around it."
"I... guess I didn't know that," he shrugged. "I just thought they were pretty."
"That's why aspen forests all change color together... why they often die together. All of them are the children of that single shared root, linked together underground. They share the exact same strengths, and the exact same weaknesses." She turned to face him then, her tone still serious. "You're sure you don't have any more contact information for human-digimon pairs you've met over the years? Anyone from childhood you've kept in touch with?"
He shook his head, puzzled at the sudden change in her demeanor. "I'm... sorry, I already told you everything I know. You already had the information on Mimi and Daisuke. I don't keep in touch with many people, much less people with digimon."
Her shoulders twitched in a sort of shrug and she gave him an enigmatic half-smile, but she seemed to return to herself after that. "It really is a pity." He could feel her fingers trace up the fabric of his shirt, her arms envelop his shoulders, her hands caress the nape of his neck through his hair as she leaned in ever closer. His eyes were drawn inexorably to her lips, until they eclipsed even the fading light of the sun. She tasted like sea spray, peaches, and vodka, mixed with something odd and sharply metallic.
"Wallace," he heard her whisper close to his ear, "Would you say I'm beautiful?"
"Of course."
"Would you say I'm a goddess?"
"Absolutely."
He felt her lips carve a smile in the hollow of his cheek. "Good." He heard the percussive snap of her fingers, and suddenly everything became blurred by a howl of rushing wind. He hadn't even had time to cry out before his knees hit the sand. The last thing he remembered was what had sounded like the crinkling of a thousand sheets of paper-thin metal, and a child's laugh echoing in his mind, as sharp and thin as a razor cutting through glass.
Menoa brushed a few grains of sand from her arms and readjusted the sarong around her waist. It hadn't been the ideal extraction, but at least it had been amusing in its way, while it lasted. Boys like this one really did all think alike, and now there were three more errant lambs saved, getting a new lease on life as members of her flock. She glanced around to make sure the noise hadn't attracted any undue attention, smiling in spite of herself. Despite the lack of any new leads she had been able to glean from him, she had accomplished everything she had set out to do today. Someone would find his consciousness-robbed body in the morning, at which point she and Kyotaro would already be on their way to Tokyo, Kyotaro none the wiser. And in the meantime, she would make her way back to the hotel, maybe treat herself to a bath or late-night swim.
At least her target had been right about one thing.
That's the great thing about Florida, no one ever bats an eye.
~Fin.
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becquerelian · 2 years
Text
It is time for the TGCF impressions and theories masterpost
I've seen the donghua three times and, now that the official English novel translation is coming out, I figured it could be fun to write all this out before I get any further in the story
MARTIAL GODS
So Nan Feng and Fu Yao are those two martial gods in disguise. I know Fun Yao is Mu Qing but I forget Nan Feng's other name even though he didn't change it that much. They are my favorites; if you've ever heard me say Ling Wen is my favorite. If you've ever heard me say Hua Cheng is my favorite. No you didn't. These two are just angry and mean bastards and that's peak performance.
Prediction that Mu Qing is going to be ride-or-die with Xie Lian but something is going to drive the other dude away. Maybe he's a traitor, I feel like there has to be a betrayal of Xie Lian by someone at some point
Anyway it turns out Pei Jr has to be another favorite of mine, he seems just awful. He is just very calm and composed and probably would no hesitation kill and destroy at any given moment. He's on the verge. When he first shows up and talks to Xie Lian for a bit he's so distant and correct in his manners but if he suddenly decided to snap Xie Lian's spine over his knee like a stick I would not have been surprised. We know he committed massacre before he ascended which makes me wonder what.. the criteria for ascension are? But good for him. Hope you get to go insane again soon king
You can probably tell what my taste in fictional characters is
But despite what this section may have led you to believe, no, I am not going to talk about A-Zhao
XIE LIAN
Xie Lian has a lot of secrets and past selves and even present selves that haven't come to light. I'm not sure he's a Big Pretender but he is at least a little bit of a pretender. He's snarkier and cleverer and possibly more judgemental than he acts like he is. I'm like 99% sure of these things, I'm at least staking all my bets on them being true
Something seems to have caused him to develop a lot of shame -- the crown prince of Xianle and the Xie Lian we're presented with almost appear to be different characters entirely
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Something went badly wrong at some point, and it seems to at least partially tie in with the fall of his kingdom. And like.. getting kicked out of heaven again in the length of time that it takes to burn an incense stick sounds funny the first time but the more I think about it the more I'm... sir, what did you do????? And then there's him telling San Lang Oh you know, sinners deserve to be punished 😔🙏 HELLO??????
He's also weirdly, occasionally down for violence?? My man is just okay with Hua Cheng committing mass murder. I don't know what is up with his moral compass or what is in his brain in general. Maybe his moral compass is murder is okay if I or my husband do it. I want to put him in a drop of water on a little slide and study him under a microscope
Related: to be demoted from a lieutenant you have to have done something to become lieutenant in the first place, which is something he seems to have deliberately left out of his little story when talking about his General Hua hours. Actually that story is full of pretty blatant holes. What are you hiding
I don't really know what to make of all this for now. Just a lot of conflicting characterization that I'm not yet sure how to reconcile. I'm very much looking forward to reading the novel and being in his head, because he seems like he's going to be FASCINATING, but in the donghua.. his character doesn't come across with much clarity. I'm assuming this is a problem in the translation from book to show
XIE LIAN'S PAST AND BAI WUXIANG
There's definitely something relating Xie Lian to Bai Wuxiang. I know that the human face disease is what led to the downfall of Xianle and I know that Bai Wuxiang is somehow connected to.. the disease, or that event? I'm not sure if it's necessarily so much that he even caused it, exactly? He kind of seems to be treated almost as a physical representation of or a stand-in for the disease, so maybe not the direct cause of it but very much associated with it. But yeah it makes sense for a scary ghost man to wreak that kind of havoc
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They also say that Bai Wuxiang is hundreds of years dead by now but I don't believe that for a second. He probably never died in the first place or maybe died only in a metaphorical sense. I think it very likely that he's still around and just became someone else (maybe literally or maybe same man new identity)
So here's a theory. Xie Lian is Bai Wuxiang? I don't know if that's even possible as a god. But they both.. wear white.... And I can see major angst potential. Being the reason your kingdom fell? Listen: he definitely had a major fall from grace at some point. I can see in this a struggle with trying and ultimately failing to be a good person. Also. Mask. Not only do we not know the identity of Bai Wuxiang, but parallels with Xie Lian's prince mask
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Then there's also the emperor. He's probably an if not The antagonist and probably the source of Xie Lian's problems. He just feels like an abusive dad, and a prince is a son of an emperor (be that literal or symbolic). But either way he looks similar to Xie Lian so big likelihood here for misdirection and/or MXTX's famous parallels
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What I'm saying is he could also be Bai Wuxiang. Maybe both of them are?! Maybe Bai Wuxiang isn't any specific person at all??!?
I'm also saying that I'm just generally looking forward to getting more of the emperor in season 2 👀 I want to meet the scary man
OTHER CALAMITIES
The intro song lyrics are very good. I was really pleased to find that they're specific to TGCF because that was honestly one of my favorite things about the MDZS donghua; slowly getting a handle on certain terms and themes and then seeing them in the intro. The Realization. Good stuff. I wish that Netflix displayed the translation, not just because having that realization while watching would have added some kick to the experience, but also because it rounds out Hua Cheng's characterization nicely
So here's some character analysis for you: Hua Cheng talks about not wanting to show Xie Lian his true form because "it's ugly" or whatever. Either that's an excuse or it's just misleading. Once again with the shame. Hua Cheng thinking he's not good enough for Xie Lian. Which is understandable given the circumstances under which they first met/came into contact with one another (all this time later after Xie Lian has long since fallen out of favor and Hua Cheng still puts him on a super high pedestal because Xie Lian is still his reason to live and, in his mind, still the good and kind prince of Xianle. I think Hua Cheng also doesn't want Xie Lian to connect the atrocities (re: ugliness) to that little boy), but honestly hilarious given the way they're presented to us, the audience (These powerful forces of good and evil respectively have Self-Esteem Issues)
The things he says on the cart as San Lang I also don't want to discount as lies but more as him being a little tricky. He mentions gouging out his own eye and being kicked out by his family, and with the way that we're shown him as a little kid in flashbacks (bandages over his face, wearing rags and standing out in the rain), I'm betting these are things that happened 800 years ago
Also I think Hua Cheng wants to kill the green ghost and I hope he does it. I, too, hate the green ghost
I just hope Hua Cheng commits some horrible crimes in general over the course of the story and I'm betting that's what season 2 is going to be about. Man and his ghost city:)
I should mention Black Water Sinking Ships too because nominated coolest ghost. I don't know anything about him but I wish I did. There's also the tiny mention of the water tyrant which. Yeah. I couldn't help but be reminded of this man. Wouldn't be surprised if they're the same. It does sound like there's a good bit of corruption in the heavenly realm
BROAD THEMATIC STROKES
Identity is a big recurring theme for sure. Everyone is someone else, whether that be a disguise or a past life or what have you. I don't know where that's going and I'm very curious to see. I'm not sure it's necessarily about deception (most of the time?), maybe it's tied in with something along the lines of self worth/remaking yourself?
TGCF also seems to explore ideas of morality similar to MDZS but slightly to the left; I'm not really sure what the twist is though. There's obviously play with the seemingly harsh divide between heaven/good and the underworld/bad. Here's the direct comparison: MDZS takes the tone of acceptance. To be a person is to do good things and to do bad things, and that isn't something to be ignored. "Evil" is neither inherent nor unusual. Weirdly (given how the besties and I talk about MDZS as the pain show and TGCF as the fluff show lmao), I get the idea that TGCF is more.. pessimistic? Maybe it's bent less on the acceptance and more on the.. I don't know... commiseration?
Sensing the topic of mental health in here too, which is probably why I'm feeling like this one is possibly going to be more pessimistic/darker in tone than MDZS. One big question that I'm betting is going to get tackled is, what do you do when you want an escape? That seems embodied by both Hua Cheng being suicidal and Xie Lian seemingly trying to forget his past and/or reinvent himself.
Thanks @tiabwwtws for talking about this stuff with me and going insane. It's hard for me to make decent predictions because I honestly have no clue where this plot is going, character-driven stuff is easier with what little I know
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musicallisto · 3 years
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Hello love,
Congratulations for the 800 followers! You absolutely deserve this and so much more! I'm happy to see how your blog grows and that you're still providing all of us with wonderful content. You're one of the first blogs that I've started to follow here on Tumblr and I'm so lucky to have found your blog ♡
As for your celebration event, could I please request a 🍨 vanilla milkshake with a male Peaky Blinders Character?
I'm more on the curvy side (and insecure about it) and I'm ALWAYS wearing black (which I love, no matter what others say or even more if they object). As for my personality, I'm a highly complex, paradox and complicated individium. I'm unbelievable patient, timid, awkward, kind, forgiving, open-minded, compassionate, thruthful, gentle and calm and I've been told that I have a calming effect on others, that I can easily ground anyone and anything, no matter how troubled their mind is. I prefer vintage over modern things. I think rather deep which often leads me to overthinking everything, which in turn leads me to doubting (very much) myself. You would be surprised how timid and reserved I am, I'm sure you wouln't notice me in a room full of people if it wouldn't be for my different appearance (but I like it this way). I'm always well-meaning, yet often misunderstood (maybe because it's hard for me to articulate myself). I can be incredible lazy, clumsy and forgetful. I've always felt like I don't really belong anywhere, so I've started to distance myself from others a while ago. I'm a outsider, weird, a dork, not normal, a loner and I fucking love it, because I like to be different, I would hate to fit into just one box and to be like everyone else. And I like people who are not ashamed to be their 100% true self, no matter how different that is from the mainstream. I'm the most loyal person you'll ever find, once you earn my trust, I'll always be on/by your side, no matter what. That says a lot, because I'm hard to scare away. Sometimes I feel alienated from the people and things surrounding me and I'm sure that I annoy and bore them. I'm very nervous and insecure around others, which is why I try to avoid people and why I'm not talking all that much around them (though, I'm a really good listener). I'm easily overwhelmed by large crowds and much light/noise, that's why I don't like to go outside, I prefer to cozy up at home. I would never intentionally hurt a animal and I'm not eating any meat, which is very important to me. I believe that there isn't a ounce of cruelty inside me. I'm unassuming and understanding, I only believe what I've witnessed on my own and I have endless acceptance for almost everything. Due to my Insomnia, I'm a night owl. I have strong personal values, am very opinionated and I'm really in-touch with myself and even though I'm extremly insecure, I would never reduce or change myself and views/opinions for someone and I neither have a problem to challenge authority and advocating for my beliefs. I'm a perfectionist and sometimes I really hate it. And, as you can see, I'm unable to be brief. My favourite colours are dark green, black, gold and dark purple. My greatest passion is music, even if I can't sing or play an instrument.(I prefer rock/punk/pop/80s/90s) It's the most calming and therapeutic thing when it comes to my anxiety and depression and I could never live a day without it. You will never see me in the street without headphones in my ears and even when I'm at home there's music playing almost all the time. I could talk for hours about music and what it means to me. And otherwise I love to watch films and series (I like fantasy, horror, psychological thriller, science fiction and psychological drama and almost anything from the 70s, 80s and 90s). I love rainy days and to go outside while it's pouring big, fat drops. What I love the most is to drive around without a destination, while talking and listening to music. And I love to spend time with my cat, if I could, I would have endless animals who live peacefully and loved with me. I enjoy to have deep talks and to be challenged to think. I love to take late-night-strolls, while gazing into the sky and watching the stars/moon. I have a fascination for dark and macabre things.
I really hope that's not too much? But thank you anyway ♡
Have a good day!
thank you so much for your kind words, you have no idea how much it means to me to know that I was one of the first blogs you followed ;; here’s your vanilla milkshake - and it’s also my first time writing for peaky blinders, but I hope it’s alright; and I hope finn shelby will find the portrait I paint of him accurate enough...
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Birmingham was a drab and disheartening place enough without the war adding to its joylessness; but somehow the streets are even worse to bear deserted than when they’re bustling and fetid. Especially for a ten year old boy who wants nothing but to play with someone, to talk to someone, to see someone.
With his brothers off fighting somewhere in France and his aunt too busy with her businesses (adult stuff that Finn has absolutey no interest in attempting to understand), the youngest Shelby has been fighting off an affliction worse than consumption and measles, because much more insidious for a boy his age; boredom
and he’s so sad, so irrevocably sad, with no one to bruise his knees with and throw mud at, that he just aimlessly wanders the empty streets whenever aunt Polly isn’t looking, to find a semblance of stimulation
(he used to enjoy the solitude, it gave him time to imagine delirious stories in fantastical worlds and read the most enthralling of novels, but not anymore. four years of reclusion is an awfully long time for a little boy.)
and it’s during one of his escapades that he first meets you
you’re a little girl his age, dressed in a pretty dress, wearing pretty booties and holding a pretty little woven basket, but your face is stuck on the most grouchy frown he’s ever seen on a little girl, and you don’t walk, you stomp down the wet pavement like a wrathful titan
And it’s probably the first time in four years that he’s been this close to making a new friend, so he walks up to you, despite how rusty his communication skills have become
“Girls don’t frown. It’s unbecoming.”
(Yes, pretty rusty indeed; but in his defense, he’s ten, he’s bored, he’s lonely, and he’s only ever heard Ada say it, and Ada is the most level-headed of his siblings, so anything she says must be true, right?)
“Shut up.”
(Well, if it was unbecoming of you to frown, it’s even more to rebuff someone so rudely. You don’t even spare a glance and continue walking; he has to hurry to catch up to you.)
“You can’t say that. It’s a bad word.”
“How do you know that?”
“My family says it all the time, but they told me I can’t say it.”
“Well, my family is not your family. And I hate my family!”
You’ve yelled the last words at the sky, so loud that the crows on the neighboring roofs have taken off in a startled flight.
“They want to wear this stupid dress to go to the stupid market to buy stupid meat. I don’t even want to eat meat, that’s cruel! And I don’t even want to wear a frilly dress! I want to wear black!”
And in saying so you tugged at the pink and white ribbons that encircled your waist.
And Finn couldn’t help being extremely intrigued at this little girl who said bad words and refused to eat meet and wanted to wear black. It was the most exciting thing to ever happen in all the duration of the war.
“You want to wear a black dress?”
“Yes, but my mama won’t let me. She says it’s too sad because of the war. But black isn’t sad! Black is beautiful!”
“Maybe I could find you a black dress. I’m sure my sister must have one. Where do you live?”
And, loyal to his promise, the following morning he had run to your doorstep and snuck into your house - a proper Shelby talent, to be able to go unnoticed or make a ruckus depending on the occasion - with an old, crinkled mourning dress of Ada’s, that had probably belonged to his mother and had been mended several times
And it was obviously five sizes too big for you and you looked more like a ghost from one of Finn’s horror novels, your arms floating in the sleeves and the hem of the skirt pooling at your feet, but your smile was the brightest light he’d ever seen in this whole damn town.
“Do you like it?”
(He didn’t really know why he sounds so nervous. Maybe it was having a friend, a real friend, and doing something personal for them... or maybe it had to do with how fast his heart beat, watching you in that gigantic, shapeless dress)
“I love it! Thank you so much, Finn!”
From then on started one of the most wonderful friendships Finn would ever have, and what would bring a ray of light to the grim existence of a little boy in the midst of a global war
Despite the ration cards, despite the loneliness, despite the worry that tugged at his stoic aunt’s eyes for her son and nephews across the Channel... he found an unspeakable solace in your friendship
And one day, without a trace, you were gone
He knocked on your door; gone. He asked all the neighbors what had happened to the family that lived there; gone. He wrote you letters and sent them to the confines of England; gone. He got scolded by Polly for marking numbers at random on Tommy’s state-of-the-art telephone; gone.
Suddenly he was back to the bleak existence he had battled with before meeting you, and the hollow inside his chest only grew wider as the days went on, because he had no explanation as to what had happened to you, and worried every single day
Thankfully, the war ended not long after, and his brothers came back home, all alive and unscathed - well, for the most part
Fast forward more or less ten years, and much has changed in Finn Shelby’s life and in old Birmingham, but the memory of you still stugs at his heartstrings
One evening, he’s tasked by Arthur to run some errands, send a few messages, scout a few places; the most dangerous thing his older brothers will ever let him do
His task leads him to a bar in the center of town, one that pours its joyous light and music into the street outside; he’s there to meet with a client, arrange a meeting; nothing he’s hasn’t done already
But the evening takes a turn for the unexpected when he recognizes the girl sat alone at a table, enjoying the musicians’ jazz with an air of pure bliss on her face
It’s been ten years, of course, but... it’s unmistakable. That face, that silhouette, and the black ensemble from head to toe... and he’s always had a knack for remembering faces, especially those that mark him deeply
Suddenly he’s frozen on the spot, and he has forgotten why he came to the bar in the first place, what his target looks like - all he knows is you, and how beautiful you look in the dim light of the bar, and the undisclosed and unknown feelings he had for you at the time come flooding back.
Except this time, he understands, and he fears them, because he doesn’t have time for any of this, and it’s way too dangerous for you and him
But he can’t just pass you by and not say a word?
He swallows, hard.
And walks up to you.
“Y/N?”
You open your eyes, and your face flashes with recognition, and a little bit of pain as well. Even if you fled without a word, and left him hanging all these years, he’s incapable of rancor
“Finn... wow, you’ve changed so much.”
“You haven’t.”
He gestures at your face, your clothes, how you savor the music like the finest drink in the world, and you laugh and blush, sending his heart into overdrive
“Where were you all this time?”
“I’m so sorry, Finn... my brother died in the war, and... my mom sent me to live with my grandparents in Scotland. We were all destroyed by grief... I needed to get away.”
“Without explanation? Not even a word?”
“I wanted to write to you, so bad, but... I couldn’t remember your address. I couldn’t remember anything about Birmingham at all...”
He nods, slowly, in understanding.
The war opens wounds that never heal, even after all the most beautiful friendships and love stories in the world.
“But I’m really glad I found you.”
His heart is pounding in his throat. Maybe it’s a sign of destiny that he found you here, tonight, alone, and ready to welcome him back. Maybe it’s a word from fate, that you can never truly be apart.
So he takes the seat in front of you, and you smile, that shy but bright smile of yours, and he forgets all about his mission, his client, and his brothers.
They’ll have to understand.
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800 follower sleepover
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citylightsbooks · 3 years
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The Motor of the Essay: Rachel Kushner in Conversation
This is an excerpt of a free event we held in conjunction with Litquake for our virtual events series, City Lights LIVE. This event features Rachel Kushner in conversation with Dana Spiotta celebrating the launch of The Hard Crowd: Essays 2000-2020, published by Scribner. This event was originally broadcast live via Zoom and hosted by our events coordinator Peter Maravelis. You can listen to the entire event on our podcast. You can watch it in full as well on our Youtube channel.
*****
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Dana Spiotta: I know that everyone's going to ask you these questions about writing fiction versus nonfiction. And I read somewhere that you said, with your novels, you begin with imagery more than an idea or a character. With the nonfiction, there is a range of pieces about writers and specific books to journalism--like the prison story and Palestine--and then there’s the ones that are personal essays, right, like the girl in a motorcycle. So I guess they might all have different origins. But where do you begin with that? And how is that different as a process from what you write in fiction?
Rachel Kushner: Yeah, so it is kind of a different process for me, although I sometimes feel guilty to try to make declarations about which is harder, or how one does one thing, because you know, for some people, the essay is what literature is.
For me, fiction is more difficult. And so in a certain way it's what I've signed on to do with my life, because the process can be so mysterious and fickle and unreliable. And I'm waiting to catch a wave, or get the drift and then try to figure out how to sustain it, and then how to change it in order to sustain it. Managing so many different things at once is a very curious hermeneutic, because you need to know where you're going.
But then you also need to let happenstance inform you. I think some of the ways that we are challenged, and how we learn in our lives and also as writers, are by having encounters that we did not anticipate or predict, and that happens in fiction. And then you're kind of in a "taking mode" and you know exactly what's for you and you go with it and you run.
Essays are a little different for me. I mean, obviously. Time is shorter. But usually the motor of the essay is a sprung sentence. I come up with one sentence that is doing something in the syntax and it's making something sort of declarative. And it's kind of a gambit. And it needs to be followed by another. And sometimes I'll have a whole paragraph like that. And those paragraphs will just be floating in the void of the potentiality of the essay that I haven't written yet. And I don't sweat, like, "How am I going to link this to that?" yet. Because I just know by instinct that they're both going in. And if I put them in the essay, then they are interrelated by virtue merely of their proximity to each other. Then I start to build links.
Some journalism is a very different process. Like you mentioned, for the piece that I wrote, originally for the New York Times Magazine, about prison abolition and the carceral geographer, Ruth Wilson Gilmore, they said it can be any length and made it long. So you know, it was like 20,000 words. And it was my version of that essay, and it probably was a pretty good essay. But I think the weakness in it was that I was not speaking to their audience. And they really--you have written for the New York Times Magazine--they want to be able to countenance everything you say, sentence by sentence. It's not like writing an op-ed, where you just say your thing and then people can fight it out in the comments. They want to be fully on board. And I wouldn't want to have to do that all the time.
It's extremely difficult, because you have to keep remembering how to bring in somebody who may have wildly different ideas about how society should be organized, and not seem polemical, not seem pushy. It's a kind of seduction I think that really benefits from collaboration with an editor. It's arduous, it takes time. That essay took two years to write, but because the subject matter was important to me, ultimately, I decided it was worth it.
Dana Spiotta: Yeah, it's such a great essay. And I learned so much from it.
Peter Maravelis: When you're writing about events and feelings from decades ago, how do you return to the experience? What takes you back?
Rachel Kushner: That's a really great question. So, you know, with some of these essays, like the first essay in the book called “Girl on a Motorcycle,” which is about the Cabo 1000--a no longer existent, illegal motorcycle road race where you span the Baja in the course of a day--was the first thing that I ever published and I wrote it 20 years ago. And after looking back over it, in order to put it in this book and to improve upon it, I opened it up; I wrote a new beginning and a new ending. There are so many details and scenes in that essay that I never, ever would have remembered had I not written them down when I was much closer to the meat of that experience.
But there are other essays like the title essay which I just wrote quite recently. I'd put the book together, and I knew it was going to be called “The Hard Crowd.” And then I just basically sat down and wrote this essay. And I think, you know, as maybe you're telling a story, or going through your life, sometimes things really do sort of trigger the release of a memory. And Proust has this conception of two different kinds of memory that he calls voluntary memory and involuntary memory. And voluntary memory is the kind of fixed story that you tell, you know, "Oh, he's telling that story again," meaning it's a kind of sclerotic, hardened account that, for Proust, doesn't really have any real artistic or intrinsic wealth to it. Whereas involuntary memory is maybe when you would smell a perfume that you haven't smelled in 30 years and it reminds you of this or that. And I think that writing itself can activate involuntary memory, because you start to see into spaces you haven't seen in a really long time.
Like when I was writing this essay, I somehow ended up talking about Terence McKenna, and remembered that I'd seen Terence McKenna give this lecture at the Palace of Fine Arts. And then I saw the Palace of Fine Arts and him on the stage and where I was sitting, and who was in the audience. And so then I mentioned in the essay that this noise musician who I don't know, but I knew who he was, was sitting right in front of me. And that was a funny thing because the New Yorker called him and asked, "Were you at a Terence McKenna lecture in 1991." “Yeah, I was.” I mean he probably thought like the FBI is after him or something. I can start to see things and details in pretty haunting detail, particularity once I'm starting to build the framework that will allow those kind of involuntary memories to come up to present themselves.
Peter Maravelis: Do you feel that maybe kids who grew up in a certain era share communal memories, like growing up in San Francisco in the 70s is full of shared moments and scenes?
Rachel Kushner: Yes, I do feel that, but I would maybe even particularize it to not just an era, but to kids who grew up in a certain world within San Francisco. And I'm going to just be blunt: it's the kids who went to public school in San Francisco in the 70s and 80s. We all traversed a world together, and the particularity of that world. I'm not saying that it's special or different. Everybody has a world that they traversed, and that stays inside of them as memory. And ours is ours. And those who experienced it do feel bonded, I think, for life, in a way. And it's something I've thought about a lot since that essay was published in the New Yorker because of the number of people who reached out to me and wanted to talk about their own memories of this same world that we shared.
Peter Maravelis: In the New York Times review, Dwight Garner mentioned the phrase: “At the party, she was kindness in the hard crowd," from the Cream song "White Room." Is that in fact where your title came from?
Rachel Kushner: It is. I mentioned that in the title essay, it all becomes clear, or at least somewhat clear where I heard that song, and why I made it the title of this book. It's a good line.
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