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lucienarcheron · 1 month

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Spirit Meets the Bones VII

Genre: Angst/Romance Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse.

shoutout to my darling @abruisedmuse for keeping me sane! ily <3

Find it all here.

The Forest House seemed to fascinate Iris. Eris watched her expressions as he took her through every corner of its sprawling complex, through the trees and rocks woven within it, and even through its uppermost levels which was the only level visible above the ground.

With every sentry they met and various staff that roamed, he was acutely aware of how she watched his interactions with them and Eris made it a point to introduce her as often as the moment would allow it, but only to the right people. He found that Iris was very good at playing the shy wife, even as, much to his amusement, she muttered obscenities at him.

He took her through the tunnels a few levels into the stone and they went through a ballroom, training rooms, and the large kitchens. Eris watched with mirth as she scarfed down the quick lunch the kitchen staff hastily prepared for them.

It was highly unusual for any member of the household to be down eating in the kitchens and Eris knew they were nervous with him there but Iris...he watched in curiosity as she quickly made friends and eased their apprehension with a few jokes. Her eyes would flicker to him each time, as if to make sure she was acting correctly, behaving as expected and it made his stomach clench.

It was such a stupid thing but a survival instinct he had mastered early on. One she mirrored and caught on to very quickly.

There wasn’t a corner they hadn’t reached and though it had taken them well into the afternoon before they made their way back up to the wing housing his mother and the music room, Eris could tell she was impressed.

“Not as suffocating as you imagined?” he asked with a smirk and gave her a pointed stare.

“No. It is not,” she said with a chuckle. “But I appreciate you taking me outside first. It’s made me appreciate the inside more.”

“You’re enamored with your new home as you’re enamored with your husband then.” He asked, his smirk widening.

“I’m enamored with the idea that there are so many places I could murder you in.” She said with a sweet smile.

“I aim to please,” Eris said, nodding graciously, giving her a mock bow and Iris rolled her eyes, giving him the finger.

“My mother’s chambers are to the left and if you go straight down to the right, we have the music room,” he explained with a chuckle then pointed. “If you’d like to go ahead while I check in with my mother about dinner, you can. Or would you like to come with me?”

Iris shook her head with a smaller smile and started walking ahead. “I’d rather look a little more polished before I meet her...I'll see you when you’re finished.”

Tucking her smile into his heart, Eris did a double-take at the thought then grimaced. He wouldn’t overthink it. He took a breath and turned towards his mother’s chambers.

The conversations that took place between them as they continued to spend time together were...interesting. She asked him about everything and though Eris answered to the best of his ability, it was still strange to him that she wasn’t running off. Or attempting murder.

Knocking, he waited for permission before stepping in and smiling at his mother who welcomed him with a wave.

“Mother.”

“My son.” was her affectionate reply and the tips of Eris’s ear heated.

Planting a kiss on her cheek, he rested himself on the arm of the chair she was resting in, a book in hand.

“A second visit in one day? Has Iris tried to stab you again?” she asked with a coy smile.

Eris chuckled. “She tried to bite me but all has been well since then,” he replied. “I’ve been giving her the tour and she seemed to enjoy it.”

His mother smiled and looked behind him before meeting his eye again. “I’m glad to hear that. She isn’t with you now?”

“She’s slipped ahead to the music room but we both wanted to know if you’d be available for us to join you for dinner?” he asked with a small smile and Lady Enya beamed.

“Of course! I’d love for you two to join me!” she said and sat up, placing her book down. “I’ll have our staff make a lovely feast for us.”

“She wanted to spend time with you and thank you for the clothes.”

Lady Enya waved a hand. “She doesn’t need to thank me for anything but I’m so happy she wants to have dinner. I wanted to ask you this morning but didn’t want to push,” she said with a chuckle.

Eris nodded and waited for a heartbeat before slowly saying, “She met the hounds.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Oh?”

“They...were surprisingly very receptive to her.”

His mother’s lips twitched and she sat back. “Were they now?”

“My terrifying hounds were like putty in her hands,” he grumbled without any real heat. “Those traitors loved her.”

“Did they?”

“What does that look mean, Mother?” he asked with a small scowl and his mother chuckled.

“I don’t know, Eris. What does it mean?” she teased and his scowl deepened.

“Mother.”

She chuckled again and squeezed his hand. “I'd say it means they know that you like her.”

Eris blinked and digested this for a moment. “Well. She is my wife.”

“Mmm. I suppose.”

Eris grunted, squinting at his mother’s smile, and rubbed the tip of his ear. “We...are still getting to know each other. I do not mind her so far.”

His mother rolled her eyes. “Yes. That’s exactly it,” she said with a small snort. “Because you don’t mind her.”

He weighed his next statement, his heart thundering in his wretched chest and his mother watched him with a knowing smile.

“It’s been...surprisingly easy,” he muttered. “To tell her things.”

“Good. It should be,” she replied.

“No. It’s too easy,” he said quickly then frowned and added in a whisper. “I’m unnerved. I don’t like it.”

“It’s because you’re not used to it.” his mother said gently. “The only other time you did, it didn’t end well but that is not the case here.”

Eris’s frown deepened. His mind had never been so torn over a female like this. His only justification was that he’d never been married before so naturally, this should be normal. He blinked.

“Is this normal?” he asked in a quiet tone and his mother gave him a bemused smile.

“What, exactly?”

Eris waved a hand with a grimace. “These...mixed emotions.”

“I think you need to stop overthinking it.”

“Why.”

“Because you will cause yourself more stress than you already have."

Eris narrowed his eyes at his mother’s expression, but he finally shook his head at her response. His mother was right. He didn’t need to overthink it. Didn’t need to read too much into it.

“I thought it would be more awkward, that’s all.”

“How much more awkward do you want it to be with the threats and all?” His mother said with a snort and the corner of his mouth lifted at the noise. “She seems to have spent much of her time alone...maybe she’s also wanted someone to talk to.”

Eris thought about this for a moment. It seemed to make sense. But again, he didn’t want to overthink it and only narrowed his eyes at his mother who chuckled.

“Your mind is always trying to find the snakes. I don’t think she’s going to be one of them,” she added and Eris nodded slowly. But then his mother chuckled again and Eris frowned, his cheeks coloring.

“If you keep making fun of me Mother, I’m going to stop telling you anything.”

This only made his mother laugh again. “It’s just — it’s delightful to see you so frazzled over a girl,” she said with a smile. “Your wife, nonetheless.”

“Delightful,” he said dryly. “Yes. I’m thrilled you find this so funny.”

“I’m interested to see what else you two end up sharing together.”

And again, Eris felt like a prepubescent boy embarrassing himself in front of his mother. Judging by the very knowing look she gave him, she enjoyed it too much. “I’m going to catch up with Iris,” he mumbled. “We’ll see you at dinner, then?”

Smiling, she patted his hand. “Yes! I look forward to it, my son.”

“Look forward to what exactly?”

Both Eris and his mother froze, their eyes locking. Eris swiftly stood, clasping his hands behind his back, and turned to face his father.

“Father.”

“Son,” Beron replied, his eyes slipping to his wife who had sat back, her eyes on the book. “What is it you’re looking forward to, dear?”

Eris clenched his fists at the word, meant as mockery rather than a term of endearment. Tension immediately filled the space as Eris looked at his mother and smiled tightly.

“Iris and I were planning to have dinner with Mother,” Eris said and Beron quirked a brow. Knowing he couldn’t avoid it and even though he hated to say it, he added, “You are welcome to join us, of course.”

“Ah, so the daughter-in-law will dine with the mother-in-law? How charming.” Beron said with a bite and the tension in Eris’s shoulders tightened. “When were you planning to have her meet with me?”

“Whenever you wished, Father. I know your schedule is full so it would’ve been at your preference.” Eris replied and Beron tutted.

“You always line your words up so neatly, son. As if I can’t smell your lies.” Beron said with a threatening smile. “If you had it your way, I’d never be in the same room as your little wife. Are you so attached already?”

Eris’s mouth went into a thin line. “We’re still getting to know each other.”

Beron snorted. “I’m assuming you put her in her place last night. Her father mentioned she needed a heavy hand,” he said, shooting his son a look and then turning from them towards the chair opposite his mother. “I won’t allow you to embarrass me by letting your wife walk all over you.”

Anger flared through every bone of Eris’s body and it took every ounce of self-control not to snap his neck on the spot.

“She won’t.”

“I should hope not,” Beron said, the smile now having a cruel edge to it. “You aren’t one to be controlled by a pretty cunt since you learned your lesson long ago. Remember that.”

Eris’s whole body shut down and roaring filled his ears. Gods, how desperately he wanted to snap his neck and be done with it. Kill him on the spot. Run his sword through his gut as many times as possible and watch him bleed out.

“Beron.” Lady Enya said, her tone sharper than it ever usually was with him, snapping Eris out of his thoughts.

The High Lord turned to his wife in amusement. “Yes, dear?”

“She’s your daughter-in-law. There’s no need to speak this way,” she spoke and Beron scoffed at her.

“But of course, dear. I shall mind my tongue as you always mind yours,” he replied then turned back to his son. “We’ll see you and your wife at dinner. I look forward to chatting with her.”

Eris clenched his jaw then nodded curtly. “We’ll see you then.” he ground out and before his father pushed his last button, he swiftly left the room.

He stood in front of the closed door for a moment, just to check — to make sure his father didn’t lay a hand — but he let out a breath when he only heard the clipped conversation and his mother slipping into the next room.

He needed to breathe more deeply. He needed — He needed his father dead, desperately. But not yet. His mother still needed time.

Eris rolled his shoulders back, running his tongue over his teeth then made his way to the music room. Iris was likely wondering what had taken so long but —

How would she react now that she had to spend dinner with his father as well? That was definitely not how it was supposed to go.

With a clenched jaw, tension rose through his body again and he made his way to his wife. The taunt of his past lover rang in his ear with each step and Eris’s fists clenched again.

He stopped in front of the room and found the door ajar but before he stepped in, he forced himself to take another deep breath. He didn’t need to let Iris know how he felt. Eris could keep it together. He knew better than to let his father rattle him. And yet...

Eris stepped into the room but Iris’s attention was fully on the grand piano. She must’ve already gone through the other instruments as she was now standing in front of it, her face thoughtful.

He watched silently as she reached out a hand and touched a key, the sound resonating through the room. The corner of her mouth ticked up and she pressed another, the sound going through the room once more. Stepping closer to the instrument, she let her hand glide across the set of keys and her smile widened at the sounds.

The chuckle that slipped her lips seemed to douse some of the anger in him.

He cleared his throat and strode slowly towards her. “Enjoying yourself?”

Iris turned to him and gave him a small smile. “I suppose.”

“Is it to your standards?”

“It’s beautiful. Perfectly tuned.”

“Then why aren’t you sitting to play?”

Iris sighed, pursing her lips while glancing at the white piano, their reflections shining off of it. “Sometimes I’m not sure if I love playing or I hate it.”

Eris leaned against the piano and glanced at his wife, watching her facial expressions. “Because of why you had to play?”

“Because I’m supposed to do this and nothing else. And I hate that.”

The lick of anger he was feeling from his father flared at the implication of her own father’s behavior and he spat, “Well, that’s not the case anymore. You can play because you enjoy it. And if you don’t enjoy it, then don’t play.”

Iris turned to him fully at his tone and Eris tried to curb his anger, tried to ease the tension in his shoulders but she seemed to see right through it.

“You’re angry,” she stated quietly and Eris noted how her eyes snapped to his clenched fist.

He quickly unclenched his hands.

“I am,” he stated simply and Iris met his gaze.

“Why?”

Eris ran his tongue over his teeth and it took him a moment to unclench his jaw.

“My mother will be happy to have us for dinner,” he said and Iris gave him a confused look.

“That’s... a good thing?”

“Yes,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back and clenched his fists once more. “But my father overheard and will be joining us as well.”

Iris grimaced. “Oh.”

“Yes,” he said. “And that is why I am the way I am right now.”

Iris fidgeted slightly, wringing her hands. “Is it going to be bad?”

“Yes.” he replied tightly. “If I know my father...he will make it bad. We will really have to sell our roles.”

Iris observed him for a moment and Eris let her, finding that looking at her seemed to ground him. He didn’t need to be too angry. It would be fine. He didn’t —

“Come. Sit with me,” she said and Eris blinked as she slipped onto the piano bench. She glanced at Eris and patted the space next to her.

He glanced at the space and then at her again before he slowly slid down next to her. She seemed to hold herself more rigidly than expected and it was then he noticed her eyes on his clenched fists again. A pang went through his chest and he immediately relaxed his hands once more.

“I will only cause a disturbance if I start pressing on these keys,” he said dryly and Iris chuckled, though a little nervously.

“That’s why I will play and you will listen,” she said quietly and looked at him.

His expression softened into surprise. “Really?”

“I did say maybe,” she said. “Today seems to be your lucky day.”

The corner of Eris’s mouth lifted and he nodded.

She nodded in return then looked away, back to the keys. He watched her take a deep breath and look down at the keys, a slight fondness in her gaze.

Then Iris started playing and his heart skidded inside his chest at what had to be one of the most beautiful melodies he had ever heard.

He watched her play, mesmerized, the notes seeming to rise off the piano and fill the space around them. He could almost see the music floating around the room, shimmering around them. He could feel it indenting itself into his bones.

Whatever tension that was previously in his body seemed to drift out of him as Iris’s fingers made magic. Eris watched her, his eyes locked on her face as she played, her own eyes closed, a small smile gracing her lovely face. He swallowed as the melody washed over him, soothing without a salve.

His shoulders drooped and Eris knew his expression had fallen into awe. He felt...he wasn’t sure how to describe it but he felt.

His eyes never left her face as she continued to play, the melody bringing him to an emotional edge he hadn’t quite experienced in a long time and Eris seemed to lose track of time. He forgot where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. All he could remember was that he was Eris and she was Iris, her melody a thread pulled taut between them.

His Iris, that was causing stars to shatter inside him.

His Iris. His wife.

A wife that had made him share more than he had shared with anyone in such a short amount of time. A wife he wanted a real life with.

A wife that was making him feel things he wasn’t sure he was allowed to feel.

After what Eris could only imagine was a blissful lifetime, Iris slowly came to a finish, the final note vibrating through the room even though he desperately didn’t want it to end.

A blanket of silence covered them as Iris’s hand hovered over the keys and Eris blinked rapidly, rolling his shoulders back, trying to ease the goosebumps all over his skin.

She opened her eyes and took another breath before she turned to look at him. “Did you like it?” she asked softly.

Eris had to try swallowing several times before he could finally reply, glancing at her in wonder. “That was beautiful.” He whispered and Iris flushed, a genuine smile blooming on her face.

“Thank you. Moments like this remind me that indeed, I do love playing,” she said with a chuckle but she looked away from him, her eyes now on the keys. “You shared a few things with me today that must’ve been difficult. This is me sharing a little something with you.”

Eris swallowed once more then blinked, his expression a mix of reverence and terror. He quickly realized this was going to be a bigger problem than he expected.

Quickly realized that if she kept making him feel things he was going to be irrevocably fucked.

That he needed to warn her again —

“Iris.” he said but she shook her head.

“Don’t say anything else about him.”

But how could Eris not warn her again? His father would rip her to pieces. He would destroy her and Eris would have to — he would need to —

Her hand came to rest atop his. The third time she’d touched him voluntarily today.

“Dinner will be fine,” she said calmly. “We’ll make the best of it.”

Eris took a deep breath and instantly flushed, his emotions catching up to him. He had never let his feathers get ruffled like this.

“Was that an attempt at sorcery with that particular song?” he joked, his voice not entirely steady and Iris’s flush deepened, her lips twitching.

“It’s...a song I like to play when I need a moment. A favorite of mine. It feels like magic.”

“That it does.”

Eris felt her eyes on him but he couldn’t look at her again. His eyes were focused on her hand atop his.

Dinner would be fine. It had to be fine.

“It will be fine.” she said, as if she could hear his thoughts. “I will watch what I say.”

And he hated that she had to. Hated that they both had to watch anything they did. Before he let the sourness overtake him, Eris swallowed again.

“Do you like to dance?” he asked quietly and Iris blinked at him in surprise at the question. He only looked at her, wondering if she could see the image that had come to life in his mind of the two of them dancing to her song.

She bit her lip, letting a second pass before she shook her head. “I never had a proper partner.”

“Well…it’s a good thing I’m an excellent dancer then,” he said, attempting his previous bravado and Iris raised a brow then chuckled.

“I suppose I can learn to enjoy it if you keep your hands in the right places.”

Eris chuckled, some of the tension in his body easing. “You’ll need to define where those right places are, little gazelle,” he said, the corner of his mouth going up as she rolled her eyes.

“The places that won’t end up with a knife in your chest, husband.”

He chuckled again and despite her threat, Iris smiled at him. “Let’s go freshen up before I have to pretend to whimper and wince for your father,” she said and patted his hand. Just as she stood to move, Eris tugged on her hand gently.

It was Iris’s turn to eye his hand on hers.

“I hope you play this song again,” he said quietly. “When it’s a good moment too.”

She met his gaze and he felt her heartbeat vibrating at the same frequency as his own.

“I hope so too.” was her quiet response, color blooming on her cheeks. She gave him a small smile and slid away from him, Eris’s eyes following her, watching as her fingers flexed at her sides, listening to the erratic rhythm of her heart.

Many thoughts crossed his mind as he slowly stood, following in her footsteps but the one he allowed himself to dwell on was that they needed to rearrange their living chamber. A piano would be required.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x oc #eris x oc #eris vanserra fanfic #acotar fanfiction #gfics #smtb chapters #if you;d like to be tagged or removed pls let me know

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joannerowling · 3 months

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i'm just disappointed that the fandom latched onto the marauders and teens and do the most boring gay male ships imaginable out of them while basically no one but me thinks that the dynamic between lily and petunia is interesting to explore. disappointed but not surprised, because i know the fandom thinks writing (bad, homophobic) out of character yaoi is more fun than exploring literally any female characters (especially if they can't write sex into it). disappointed nonetheless.

You and me both. I'm doubly interested in Lily and Petunia's relationship because i can't stop myself from comparing it to Jo and her sister Dianne's relationship. (Truly, in general, siblings relationships fly under the radar a lot in this fandom, it's all about shipping, but when you look at canon the deepest and messiest dynamics are all familial. And it makes sense for a child lit series, i think! Fairy tales follow that very pattern, romantic issues rarely feature in them, even when the pursuit of a love interest is central to the plot; whereas parents and siblings are more complex, they can be the hero's strongest ally or enemy.)

Anyways, i'm endlessly fascinated by the fact that Jo mimicked her own familial structure with the Evans specifically, and the character she put in her own position - the older sister - is Petunia, who is jealous of her younger, prettier and kinder sister and of her literal magical powers.

I mean, it could have been the opposite, right? The older sister could have been Harry's talented and beloved deceased mother, but that's not the choice Jo made. We'll never know if she did it consciously or not but imo it kinda gives out a self-deprecating nature. I'm only speculating but it's possible she at some point shared some of the feelings of resentment Petunia has for Lily. We know from interviews that the Rowlings had a bizarre way of referring to their daughters as "the Smart One" (Jo) and "the Pretty One" (Dianne) which without overblowing it doesn't feel like something that would have been good for either of their self-esteem.

However, unlike Lily and Petunia, JKR and her sister are very close, in fact Dianne Rowling was the one who helped her after her first marriage ended and she came back to the UK. She dedicated Philosopher's Stone to her (alongside her mother and daughter). So perhaps she built Petunia as a version of herself that could have existed had she been unable to move on from old hurt or rivalry (again, all of that is speculative and my own musings).

Regardless of biographical connections, i find Petunia a very compelling character. Vernon Dursley is a great caricature (whose echoes continue to entertain in Jo's later adult books), but Petunia feels real past the satire. The way i see her, she's a deeply self-hating person who clings to "normalcy" because she feels abnormal inside. People don't naturally like her, she doesn't have Lily's charisma and easy personality, she's difficult. When she calls Lily a "freak", it's obviously a projection, she uses the insult she secretly would apply to herself. It doesn't make her too dissimilar from the likes of Hermione (especially since Hermione was supposed to have a little sister too!), and so i can't help but find her a bit sympathetic, despite her terrible life choices, cowardice and refusal to self-reflect. Much like Snape, she was terrible to Harry but she also saved his life.

#replies #anon #petunia dursley #and i would have more to say about lily and why she's also very interesting though we have little of her #but i'd best stop this post there before it becomes too long

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thesharktanksdriver · 1 month

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DETERMINATION QUESTIONS!⁽⁠⁽⁠◝⁠(⁠ ⁠•⁠௰⁠•⁠ ⁠)⁠◜⁠⁾⁠⁾

1) how does doffy feel about Reader? I mean in the sense of does doffy feel indebted or in some way attached to reader ? Because I feel like he's so complex that it could be taken in many ways his feelings (⁠•⁠‿⁠•⁠)

2) could Reader be killed forever if they were stabbed or just kinda killed with an sea Stone weapon ? Or is it even possible for reader to ever die in any way (other than losing determination)

3) doffy is a know figure in the sl@ve trade , so how does he feel about the fact reader was or is sometimes a slave ? :⁠'⁠(

Love the work!!!! (English is my first language so sorry if it's strangely spelled:⁠-⁠P) Sincerely AN ᕦ⁠(⁠ò⁠_⁠ó⁠ˇ⁠)⁠ᕤ

Hi!!!!!!!! Thank you for the questions for my favourite fashion disaster war criminal (lol) also don’t worry about ur English! I can read it just fine 👍

(Warning for themes of possession, obsession, slavery and doffy as a whole.)

1) Doffy’s feelings towards y/n specifically his attachment is definitely due to both a sense of gratitude/indebtment along with a sense of possession. They were his and rosinante’s only friend growing up despite the fact they were also hated by association. They’re held dear to him for their part in trying to make what should’ve been a shitty childhood at least a little better. But the real interesting part is when they die for him and his brother. They decided his life was more than their own which kinda empowers his superiority complex and attachment issues because they were his friend that was suppose to stay by his side no matter what. His friend, his.

As Doffy gets older this sentiment is reinforced more especially as he makes his “family”. It doesn’t feel complete without them. No one can compare to them, what they did for him, died for his safety. They’re his friend, he didn’t give them permission to die and leave him to go someplace else, their place is at his side like a good friend should be.

Doffy’s perception of them from when he was young to when he’s older is heavily corrupted even at the beginning. When he was younger they were still “his” friend, but back then it was more due to not wanting to loose them just as he lost the life of luxury he once had. They were his only luxury left and he wanted to keep that close. But as he got older that sentiment had time to fester and for him to become more attached to the idea of them rather than y/n themself.

He doesn’t care what y/n wants or thinks, he just wants them at his side again so he can cling to what he thinks is one of the only things that can make him happy.

(Boy that explanation was long lol, but I love going in depth on characters like him)

2) I’d say with sea stone weapons it moreso has the capacity to make y/n’a regeneration a lot slower. Simply being stabbed by a sea stone weapon would make the wait time for them to reappear much slower and leave a permanent scar on their body. I’m trapped in a room of sea stone though for an extended period of time it could potentially kill them or at least weaken them to a point where it would take years for them to appear again

3)for awhile now Doffy’s knew and had suspicions that y/n didn’t properly die but when it is confirmed for him he does a log of digging. And let’s just say he isn’t happy. Him finding out that for a while they were a slave really infuriates him, not at the cruel dehumanizing system he actively participates in but rather that it’s them who went through being treated like less than dirt and it wasn’t him who had found them first. The person who took rocks meant to hit him and his brother once more being put through torment.

But as fucked as it is to say he’s uses this to his advantage. He makes requests for traders to find them, gives their description and waits for any news back. He doesn’t care if he literally gets “his friend” back by participating in the system that hurt them and traumatized them. He just sees it as a means to an end to get back what was his in the first place that was stolen by others. He’ll pull and strings he needs both physically and metaphorically if it means getting them back.

He doesn’t beat around the bush with this either. He asks other warlords or pirates to look for someone of their description and promises a giant price. He doesn’t care how much he has to pay for them, “his” friend is priceless to him anyways.

he watches some of his fellow warlords squirm when he makes this offer. Jinbe, Mihawk, even crocodile. What interests him most is Boa’s reaction though. Watches the disgust in her eyes along with fear and a deep sadness.

He pokes at her and gets yelled at in return but he knows he’s found a weak spot.

#answers #determination!

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bokettochild · 6 months

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Last one. How did you decide on these?

Legend was both easier and harder, depending on when he woke. If it was the middle of the night the teen usually launched into full panic, scanning their group for whatever injury he might have seen in his visions. The three of them all had different types of visions they’d discovered: Sky saw what was to come, in full, Legend would find himself in the body of another person and live through what was to come or what they currently were dealing with; everything from experiencing a particularly shoddy kidnapping attempt that Fable faced, to once living through getting blown up before Wild had even suggested setting bombs, and Time experienced the world through flashes, through glimpses of what was to come based on the actions of others.

Ah, this is an old one!

In LoZ cannon, there are three heroes who experience prophetic dreams of any sort: Time, Sky and Legend. Legend's are, in part, because of Fable's telepathy, but the fact remains that he still saw her in the dungeon as it was happening.

I didn't want all of them to have the same sort of prophetic dreams, especially all at the same time, because it makes for less interesting story telling if everyone is equally in the know about things, so I looked at the sort of prophetic dreams they have in canon and made up my mind using that.

Sky's dreams in SkSw reveal Demise and coming troubles to him. So, I determined that his visions are often unclear and vague, and usually focus on things that haven't happened yet and are still yet to happen. I think because his vision in SkSw is clearer than some of, say, Time's that it would make sense if he could see a more complete or complex vision.

Time's visions are more flashes and spurts. OoT shows us that he has visions, but they're not easy for him to understand on his own, or else until the thing has already come to pass. I figured it would be best to preserve this by giving him more intense feelings, images and inclinations that lead to increased worry and wariness, rather than letting him know for certain what's to happen. I displayed this a bit more in A Hero Protects His Own when Time has a very vague vision consisting of a bleeding and broken Legend and a shattered Master Sword (I called it before it ever happened in ToTK lol). He doesn't have any idea what leads to the thing so much as he just knows it. Even if he can't understand it. Additionally, Time's visions are prone to change. Unlike Sky ad Legend who just have visions of things that will happen, Time messed with time enough that his visions are more like brief flashes of the future, but from many different realities. Time's visions are triggered by specific actions or things he sees/hears/witnesses, and whatever force grants them these visions shows him the most likely thing to happen as a result of those actions. It can change and isn't set in stone, unlike the other two, but changing the course for things requires being able to identify the cause of the string of events or else directly intercede to prevent them, as I did in the fic you took this passage from (Under Pressure, Whumptober 2021).

Legend's visions were a bit tricky because I didn't want him to know everything like Sky, but I also know it would destroy him if he had vague inclinations of ill fate hanging over him at all times like Time. I chose to instead use the fact that he briefly experiences/sees/hears Zelda's imprisonment in ALttP as my basis for how his premonitions work. Legend has to experience things firsthand as they're going to happen to someone. This is partly caused because he's far more sensitive to dream magic than the others, and partially because he's something of an empath (he's noted to have a pure and caring heart a lot in the games and mangas, and shows great pain on behalf of others as well). He doesn't necessarily know what's happening or why, but he gets to see it through the eyes of the affected individual, seeing the full picture in all of it's emotion and insanity in something of a balance between Time's and Sky's visions; he gets the full brunt of emotion, but clear and full images. His visions don't usually come with a lot of time between them and what is actually going to happen however, if any time at all, and it's more that they serve as a way for him to better understand things that are currently happening than things that are going to happen.

I hope this grants you some more clarity! Thanks for choosing this passage, it's bee a it since I've thought about it!

#ketto's commentaries #asks and answers #linked universe #linkeduniverse #ask game

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gureumcity · 1 year

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10 months

💌 pairing: sim jaeyun x reader, park sunghoon x reader 💌 genre: oneshot, dating bet!au, ice skater!sunghoon 💌 warning: profanity, long term heartbreak (it's kinda toxic so i put it here just in case) 💌 word count: 7.7k words 💌 author's note: note that this story is going to take place where enhypen are all adults and are the same age. there's no details but it just makes more sense. especially with sunghoon's ice skating competitions and their college lives. but of course, there will not be any sexual and/or inappropriate content. just wanted to let everyone know that because some things may not be something they would do but as i always like to remind. this is fiction. and just written to give a good story. anyway, enough with the serious talk. enjoy this one!

[ when what you believe is a beautiful relationship, turns out to be a total lie, you lose trust in yourself more than in the boy. you shut yourself out and stop living. even when another someone helps you out and brings you back into the world again. you may be thankful but you're never quite over the first. the one who hurt continuously hurt you. over and over again. ]

"i swear to god. you're just like how everyone said!," your thundering voice was heard across the hall of your apartment complex. surely, the neighbors were annoyed. but nothing compared to the humiliation and anger you were feeling as tears ran down your cheeks and your hands in fists. "but you know? you know what's so funny? ... that i truly believed you loved me!" with a slam of the door to your home, there stood a boy baffled. because at the very least, he'd thought you would at least let him explain. but no. and now.. all he could do was wait for you to be okay. no matter how long that took.

10 months. 10 months was all it took for you to fall so deeply in love and for your heart to get as easily as broken.

sim jaeyun (jake is his english name) was a boy you met at the beginning of high school. you were born in south korea but had moved to brisbane, australia as soon as you graduated middle school. there, you met jake. he was one of the most sweetest guys you'd ever met with one of the worst reputations. pretty much what one can imagine. the high school's it boy, aka fuck boy. not very convenient when all he did was share class notes and give you winks across the hallways every time you'd walk past by each other. things progressed fast before you noticed yourself falling more in love with the boy. and one day, like a dream come true, he asks you out. you still remember the words.

"so wanna share more physics notes at my house later? and maybe also be my girlfriend?"

cringy, i know.. maybe that should have been the first red flag. but it gets worse. sure, he cared a lot about his reputation and did a good job with upholding that. but with you.. he was a natural, caring guy who seemed more interested in a lot of things than what he leads. falling in love with someone like jake was easy. too easy.

so here you were. running away from your problems and flying to america with a scholarship for photography. you were covered for a good two, three years to study what you like to do and to get a fresh start. having yourself embarrassed in front of the school was already too much on your end. and the fact that your life was stolen while jake lived daily life as he did before, definitely did not make any of it feel any better. flirting with girls, playing on the soccer team, and hanging out with the same boys. it was so sickening. not the fact that he was able to go back to his everyday routine so easily. but that he still had you wrapped around his finger. that's what made going to america a better, and easier, decision than anything. it was like hitting two birds with one stone.

after a while, you got used to everything. you grew numb to feeling love and also expressing love. that may be why photography was your way of finding passion and emotion. you adapted fairly quickly actually. and with the winter olympics coming up, lots of ice skating competitions were taking place which also meant cha-ching. taking photos of representatives and of the event will be a big assignment for you; not to mention lots of hot ice skaters. you had always admired ice skaters. the way they gracefully play with their chosen songs while using absolutely every muscle possible to present such a beautiful piece. this was your seventh show you've been to now. two years really did pass by quickly.

but don't forget. you weren't the complete loser you claim yourself as. you've made friends along the way. park sunghoon, who you had met at these said competitions. he had placed first place in many, resulting in multiple individual photoshoots of him. opening up about your life wasn't something you'd like to do. especially with the way your recent high school life back in brisbane ended. but with many breaks and awkward silences during those shoots, one of you was bound to speak. and you, the photographer, sadly had to be the bigger person. one thing led to another. and you two became close friends. for the first time in forever, you felt at peace and that you belonged somewhere. park jongseong, jay, you had met in washington. he was forced by his dad to come to one of the ice skating competitions. regardless of his intention to come for fun or not, he had bumped into you and dropped your coffee all over, resulting in his many apologies and a talk in the cafe after. you know how the rest goes. sunghoon and jay meet and the three of you were now closer than ever.

feeling your phone buzz in your pocket, you reach for it to be faced with the familiar caller id, "bro", quickly putting him on speaker.

"hello?"

"hello? is that all you gotta say to me after days of not talking? i have called you like five times today and you have answered once!" you chuckle at the upset voice across the device. "well then, sunoo, maybe you should get a life instead of calling me so much." all you hear on the other end was a scoff as you finish packing your bag. sunoo was your twin brother. well, separated twin brother. after the divorce, you went with your mother to australia while he stayed with your father back in korea. you two still kept in good contact and met up occasionally but it wasn't the usual family situation. "anywayyy! when's your flight?"

you hear a knock at the door and keys jangling before seeing sunghoon walk in. "on monday. why?" watching as he took his shoes off and sat down on the couch, you gesture to him that you'll be with him a second. "nothing. it's just our birthday soon! so i'm holding a party for us. so since your flight is gonna be on monday, you'll definitely be able to make it to our party. right? you need to! listen to your big brother! you have to be there, okay?"

"you're literally two minutes older. stop acting as if you're more superior. i'm gonna go," sunghoon's chuckle could be heard as he listened to you fight with your twin brother. you quickly end the phone call and walk over to your couch. "sorry about that. sunoo keeps bothering me about our birthday.."

"speaking of birthday.. am i invited?"

"sunghoon. are you kidding me? of course you're invited. i just didn't ask cause i know you're busy with training and i didn't want to be the reason you skip out on practice during such an important time.." he places your keys in your hands and smiles. "your birthday is much more important than anything. i'll go. besides i have something else to say..," as you drop your keys on the table, he clears his throat. "i'm moving back to korea. my training in america is over and i have to practice back home. plus winter olympics is in beijing anyway. so i gotta get back soon."

"you're kidding!"

"nope. just bought my plane ticket. it's the same time and close to your seat too. maybe we can ask to switch seats with the person sitting next to you." with a quick jump, you wrap your arms around him. "ahh! i'm so excited. yes. we'll definitely do that. and since jay's back in korea too, i can invite him too."

the flight back was as normal as it can be. you both fell asleep midway but got to enjoy the sunset below. when you landed, it was around 3pm and sunoo was already there, waiting. "ooh. guess who brought their boyfriend!" he teased, and as much as you didn't want to, your smile disappears. nothing wrong with sunghoon. but it's just you haven't heard you and boyfriend in the same phrase for a while and it made you cringe. "yea yea.. anyway let's go." with yours and sunghoon's luggage in the trunk, you decided to sit in the back with sunghoon up in the passenger seat.

"so.. have you decided where you wanna live?" sunoo asks as sunghoon looks at you through the rear mirror with a smile. "actually.. yea, i have. jay's let us use his house. the benefits to having a rich friend." with chuckles, sunoo thanks sunghoon for changing the address on the navi. "you're still paying rent though, right?"

"of course i am. who do you think i am? a freeloader?," the silence was so loud, it hurt. "wow.. thanks guys."

unpacking was harder than packing. at least when you're putting things back in, all you have to worry about things crinkling up or folding in a weird way but once there out, you gotta think about how to place them somewhere. but you did what you could and managed to figure it out. "you finished unpacking?" you hear jay's voice outside your room. "yea! i'll be out in just a sec." and once you were downstairs in the living room, you see jay and sunghoon sitting on the black, leather, very jay-like, couch.

"okay. we're gonna need to make some rules," sunghoon and you catch each other rolling your eyes at jay's words before laughing. "look. i don't care how messy your rooms get. i won't step one foot in them. but! you can't mess my room or the downstairs rooms. especially the kitchen. understand?," after seeing the two of you physically nod, did jay let the two of you go. "good. so what do you guys wanna do on your first day back? after a good night's sleep, i'm sure you guys can have some fun.."

"i'm down to go clubbing.." sunghoon starts. "just like old times?" you add on, as if you were finishing his sentence. silence meant agreement. so off the three of you ran, up to your rooms to get dressed.

let's just say the day went by quick and the next day was hangover day for the three of you. four days passed and today was the party. sunoo had basically forced you to come to your own party that you didn't even plan. just added a few people on the guestlist but that's all you got to do. not that you were complaining. you didn't really care much anyway. it just gave you a reason to dress up.

"so.. how's the birthday girl?," you smiled at the voice before turning around to see sunghoon, showing off your outfit. "apparently all ready for the party.. happy birthday, y/n." with him opening up his arms, you walk into his embrace. "you know. it feels weird to be back here. i don't know if i should go see my dad.."

"you do what you wanna do. but for now..," you chuckle as he pushes you out the room and guides you downstairs to the car outside. "hop in. i'm driving us to sunoo's house." you watch as jay gets in the back and immediately puts his airpods in. it takes a few minutes to drive over and when you see the neighborhood, it wasn't hard to guess which house the party was being held. the music was loud and the big banner said everything. you just hoped he had warned his neighbors first. but that wasn't your concern.

"hey guys! the birthday girl is here!! late! but here." sunoo says as he opens the door, loud enough the attention goes to you. and to your embarrassment, sunghoon grabs your hand and takes you into the kitchen. "a drink?" taking in the amount of people in here, you were scared people would think you guys were a frat. with a simple nod, sunghoon pours in two cups of punch and hands one to you. "thanks.."

"hey sunoo. where do we put all the gifts?" jay speaks up, carrying all the gifts you guys had brought over. yes, it may be your birthday but it was sunoo's too. you couldn't not buy him something. "oh. just put them all into this room." you help jay with the gifts and place them where sunoo had told you to. after a while, there were almost a hundred people in the house.

"this should be everyone, right?" you ask sunoo as he was checking the guestlist. "no," your smile drops. what? how could he possibly know this many people that want to come and celebrate his birthday with him? "you know riki and jungwon. they're coming but i told them to bring the cake. i knew something would happen to it if i had prepared it beforehand. so i had them pick it up. they're heading over soon after they pick up their friends too." you down your drink and walk over to the couch where sunghoon relaxes. "i swear sunoo plays around too much or something. i knew this was gonna be a party but with this many people? goddamn." sunghoon chuckles at your frustration. "why don't you go grab another drink? get me one too while you're at it." you nod, heading over to the kitchen before someone else enters through the door. you catch a glance at the newcomers and immediately gasp when you see the last person entering. you wanted to hide. you wanted to literally disappear. it's been almost three years? and you thought you had gotten better. but what is this reaction? now you were back to square one. you felt pathetic. and to think, you didn't think it could get worse. until it did. his eyes catch yours and he smiles. smiles! you poured the two drinks and walk your way over. and just when he thinks he has a chance to talk to you, you pass by him and sit down next to sunghoon. and as your best friend, it felt only right he ask what was wrong.

"hey.. you good?" your eyes said everything. sunghoon sat up straight. "it's him.. jake. why is here? how does he even know sunoo?" all that anger and humiliation from that night was building back up. and if it wasn't for sunghoon holding you back, you would have left this place before the actual party even started. all while you were panicking, jake couldn't take his eyes off you. you were as beautiful as he remembered. maybe even more. "hey guys! you're finally here." you and sunghoon watch as jungwon and his other friend, you assume, place the very large cake on the kitchen island. "y/n?" your attention shifts over to the voice before seeing niki.

"oh my god! riki? it's been so long. what the hell? how are you so tall?" you said, hugging his now tall and lean figure. "well. the last time we saw each other was like five years ago.." you nodded, acknowledging his words but still shocked by his growth. "do i get a hug too?" you see jungwon peeking his head through so you immediately open your arms. "of course. my little kitty! you guys have grown so much. that's crazy." once sunoo comes your way, he starts introducing you to his friends.

"so this is my twin sister, y/n. you know jungwon and riki. this is heeseung. and this is jaeyun. well, jake. he's also from australia so i guess jake might be easier for you." sunoo explains and you couldn't help but let out a little sigh at his name. just like a hero, sunghoon's up from the couch and wraps his arm around your shoulder. "nice to meet you guys. i'm sunghoon." he says placing out his hand in which heeseung accepts first. and the rest followed. "wait wait.. i wanna hear the aussies speak. say something in english." riki says, interested. "you guys probably won't even understand anyway." you say as everyone gasps sarcastically. "oh come on, y/n. don't be a party pooper." with sunoo's words, you roll your eyes and clear your throat.

"how's life been for you?" you started first, deadpan. "it's been good, i guess. what have you been up to?"

"that's none of your business." you hear the others cheering at the accents, having no idea what you two had even said. well, besides jay who chuckled and maybe a bit of sunghoon. even though he may have a translator, you're sure he caught on to most of it.

you know how the rest of the party went. people got way too drunk, passed out, some left, and you're pretty sure you heard a few couples upstairs doing god knows what. and the whole night, all you could do was talk to sunghoon as jay was getting friendly with jungwon and riki. and despite all that, you couldn't get drunk. you don't know what kind of mistake you could make with jake and you couldn't risk anything. when there was about half of the people left, you stood up to use the restroom. after drinking almost three bottles of water, you needed to pee. after finishing your business, you wanted to get back to sunghoon. but jake had other plans. he grabs your hand and takes you outside without saying anything. when you realize you were already far out as two houses down, you shake your hand off and glare at him. "what? you're mad? when all you've been doing is hanging out with that sunghoon dude? what? are you guys dating? is he your boyfriend?"

"what? jake. you're drunk."

"no. i'm perfectly fine." his slurring voice wasn't hard to miss, proving that he indeed was drunk. too drunk, in fact. he grabs both your wrists this time so hard that you winced. "jake."

"jake."

"why is everything so easy for you? i know you don't even like him. i can see it. you don't look at him the way you used to look at me. come on. don't you feel anything for me? even when i do this?" when you feel him stepping closer, you step back. "jake! i'm warning you. let. go," you tried to wriggle out his grasp. you can feel your wrists bruising. "jake.. it hurts. please..." when jake sees your eyes tearing up, he loosens his grip. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean to." you step away, a tear slipping away.

"i hate you." you quickly retrace your steps back into the house and grab your bag, immediately running out. sunghoon follows you out with his car keys, unlocking the vehicle. (you drove, no worries. no drinking and driving!)

the next day, your head hurt. but none of it from any alcohol. from the way you kept tossing and turning last night, thinking of jake. out of all the simulations you have made in your mind of what would happen when you by chance, ever bump into him again, that was not it. once you got downstairs, you had noticed porridge on the table with a note on top.

i know you couldn't sleep at night so i made you this. make sure to heat it up before you eat it. - jay

jay keeps quiet about other people's business but always knew what was going on. he was a nice guy who took advantage of his skill and helps. you wish there were more people like him in the world.

"so.. that was jake, huh?" sunghoon's groggy voice is heard. "yea.."

"remind me what happened?," you release a soft sigh as you take out the porridge from the microwave. "just humor me. i want to know how this dude fucked himself up."

"okay.. i guess," you sat down. "yesterday, he dragged me out, absolutely off his limit and starts yelling at me about you. almost like he's... jealous? i didn't understand his words but i know what his intentions were. he's still the same asshole he was years back." sunghoon watches your reaction. he's never met jake in his life. all he knows is the jake from your stories. and that was enough to know that he was a dick. but he never noticed that you still have remaining feelings for him, whether you'd admit or not. did he have competition? probably not, after last night. or at least, that's what sunghoon was hoping.

--------------------

jake, on the other hand, had woken up around an hour ago, completely regretting everything he said last night. he didn't mean any of it. sure. deep down, he was jealous at the way you laughed at everything sunghoon said or the way you leaned into his shoulders like he's the one you love. he hated it. all of it. and when he thinks of that day of your guys' fight, he grimaces. instead of waiting for you to reach out to him like a coward, he wishes he had the courage to just tell you. even if that hadn't changed a thing. at least, he would have been able to confess his true feelings to you.

"dude.. do you and sunghoon know each other or something?" heeseung asks from his bed, watching some anime on the tv screen. "what do you mean?"

"i mean.. i don't know if it was just me but it seemed like he was glaring at you the whole night yesterday. did you flirt with y/n? she seems to have a thing with sunghoon." jake's eyebrows twitch at those words but at some point, he had to admit. he was years late. and he didn't have to know the whole story to know that sunghoon was probably there for you when he wasn't. "uhh no.. i don't know man," heeseung shrugs and continues to slurp his ramen noodles. "speaking of.. do you have y/n's number? i wasn't able to get it last night and i saw that you were exchanging numbers." jake casually says, hoping heeseung doesn't find anything suspicious. "oh yea. i'll send it to you right now. but i'm warning you, dude. i'm pretty sure they're a thing." and when his own phone buzzes, he couldn't help but smile. "okay whatever.. thanks,"

"anyway.. i gotta go. let's finish the series next time." he murmurs before rushing out the door. heeseung's attention wasn't even anywhere near what he said so he escaped through heeseung's house and immediately got into his car and dialed the number he had just received.

when he hears the phone call picked up and all you say was a simple "hello?" yet his heart was already fluttering. "hey. it's jake. don't! end the call.. i just.. i know i don't exactly deserve it but i wanted to explain myself. about everything. no matter how late my apology is.. could we meet up somewhere?," the silence scared him. he wouldn't have known if you had the ended the call unless he hadn't checked. "y/n?"

"um. yea.. sure. meet me at the park near sunoo's house," and with that, you ended the call. "hey guys.. i'm gonna head out. i'll be back in a few." you can see the two boys nod their head but you're sure they're too distracted with their gaming so you slip out the door with your bag and phone in your hand. when you parked your car, you could see a fancy car on the other side of the block. you watch as jake walks out of the said vehicle. while you knew jake had come from a wealthy family, it didn't occur to you that he was this wealthy.

"hey.. thanks for meeting me." jake says, taking in your beauty. you hum a response, waiting for whatever he needed to say and seated yourself next to him on the bench. "so.."

"so. i came to apologize. and to explain. back when the guys had made this bet, it all started off because i thought you were pretty. but you know.. you hated the whole reputation thing we held so i knew i didn't have a chance with you. and when i said that you're totally out of my league, that you would never date me, they told me that they'd pay me if i got you to be my girlfriend. it was only for six months though. but i held out onto it. cause being with you felt so much better than i had first expected." you couldn't help but scoff and i know that none of this is an excuse to treat you this way. but i just want you to know that i never wanted you to get hurt. and i was just blinded by the fact that i could get a little bit of money while also getting the girl i liked. i was stupid. i'm sorry."

"how much?"

"huh?"

"how much?"

"$500."

"so playing with my heart was worth $500 for you?"

"i didn't take the money. i didn't take any of it. i told them that this was wrong and that none of it-"

"what do you want me to say? congrats?," jake felt shivers down his spine when you stand up. he knew that in some sort of way, he had messed up again. "congrats for liking me despite the mere $500 i was worth? and for believing that this shitty apology cuts out for all those nights i cried myself to sleep. i hope you get some of that guilt off your chest because you sure seemed like you needed to tell me that. and i'm also sorry if you came today thinking i would accept your apology because i don't. i really wished i could." gathering your things, you make yourself back to your car before hearing, "i still love you!" you freeze in your place. what? when you feel his presence again, you slowly turn around. eyes in contact with one another and your hands stop moving.

"what?"

"y/n.. i never stopped loving you." your tears had started to build up to your eyes in which you failed to hide. with a swift move, you were in jake's arms. this time, you could smell his cologne. his intoxicating cologne. and feel his heartbeat. the warm vibration as he mutters sorry over and over again. and as hard as it was, you place your hand on his chest and slowly push yourself away. "but you know what, jake?," looking into his eyes once more, you smile. "it doesn't matter whether or not you took the money. it's the fact that you took a deal with my heart on the end of it because you were blinded by greed. goodbye."

for the second time, jake watches you walk away. and it hurt the same as it did the first time. but just like the first, he can do nothing but watch.

--------------------

"so why the hell did you not tell me about jake?" it's been almost two weeks since the talk and sunoo is freaking out over jake. technically, he's not even supposed to know about him but he walked in on sunghoon and you talking about what to do with jake. now sunoo has seated the both of you at your shared dining table and demands to know what happened. all you could do was sigh because you knew his stubbornness wouldn't help.

"him and i dated senior year. we met each other in high school. and just like a wattpad story, he was your regular fuck boy that flirted with every girl he had the chance to. but he was sweet to me. spoke to me about his true interests. if that's even what those were.. anyway. basically i thought that he was able to open himself up to me that he couldn't to others because of his image. we dated 10 months and into the summer, he tells me that he didn't mean it to end this way but that everything just started off as a bet among his friends. we fought back and forth. cause he just kept giving me this bullshit excuse that he meant everything despite the bet. so i ended up yelling at him and left australia," sunoo's jaw dropping was enough for you to know jake was no longer invited to your birthday parties. "but i know that you guys are good friends. and i'm sure he's changed now. so don't mind me. i just happen to have a history with him."

"okay so wait.. i only care about one thing right now."

"what?" sunoo clears his throat, staring at sunghoon. "do you still like him?" you stare at your hands on your lap, not knowing how to answer. sunghoon had seen this coming. matter of fact, he's been hurt by your answer to this question every time. even when you replied yes or the silence. it both meant you still had feelings for jake anyway. but this time. "i don't know." sunghoon's eyes shift over to you. he wondered what made you change your answer this time. you honestly didn't know either. "okay then? and i think you're right. jake has changed. so i hope you don't mind that we'll still occasionally hang out." you shook your head, reassuring that you were okay with this.

a month passes since you got back from america and you were settled for good now. taking up little projects and finding customers here and there. your online shop helped a lot in setting up this mini business for you. sunghoon and jay really helped out in advertising.

just as you push your shopping cart in the supermarket, you find yourself in front of someone. "jake.."

"hey. how's everything going?" you smile at the casual conversation starter. "good.. yea. you?"

"the same old. same old..," as you pull your cart out of the way, jake takes a hold of your hand. "y/n.. can i suggest something?" you stare at him, confused.

"i know this is a stretch. but i'd rather know i took all the chances i had with you before fully letting go. and.. i was wondering if you would go on three dates. just three. no strings attached and nothing serious. i'll treat you to all three. and if you truly feel absolutely nothing, i'll let you go. hmm?"

--------------------

"what did she say? she obviously said no, right?" jay watches as sunghoon stresses out. you had to go to an appointment and since sunghoon wasn't home, you had told jay to let sunghoon know what's going on. "she said yes."

"what?"

"she wants to give him a chance."

"you're kidding, right-"

"not because she wants this to work. she just wants to feel better. she agrees that this relationship needs a better wrap-up. that's why she agreed," with sunghoon's sigh, jay chuckles. "don't worry. she doesn't like him." at his words, sunghoon lets out an awkward chuckle. "you knew?"

"knew what? that you like y/n? yea dude. it's pretty obvious. i'm sure almost everyone at the birthday party caught on," his panicking breaths was enough for jay to pat sunghoon's back. "except y/n.. knowing her, she would've probably said something about it by now. so lighten up, dude. and let her end this relationship the way she wants before fully going for it." sunghoon nods slowly.

--------------------

the first date took place on september 18. jake took you out to an amusement park with little mazes in between. he bought you all your favorite snacks that you were shocked he even remembered. dropping cute comments out of nowhere. "you look so pretty." while playing with his fingers. "let me.." while tying your shoelaces. he didn't try anything too much and kept his distance with you. enough to show respect and you admired him for that. although it wouldn't be the thing that would bring you back to him. because no matter how much he looked out for you, this just wasn't it.

the second date took place on october 31. it was supposedly the birthday of his dog back in australia, layla. you remember the border collie who welcomed you when you went over to his house. maybe that was why but this time, he took you to a dog cafe. you were able to enjoy your favorite coffee while playing with cute samoyeds and poodles. really attentive to you, he made sure you were able to feed the puppies, play with him, and stay after hours too. you were sure that one cost a bit. but you pretended not to know as he tried to hide his payment as much as possible. you hated to admit. but he was a gentleman. well, in a way, you guess he always was. but no matter how much he paid attention to you, this just wasn't it.

the third and final date took place on november 15. his very own birthday. he ended up holding his party a few days before instead to spend it with you. he took you to a festival. one that usually sells out fast and only comes twice a year. he made sure to keep refilling tickets to allow you more games, which meant more stuffed animals. when it hit ten o'clock, the fireworks went off. you let him hug you. you understand. fireworks makes one emotional. you slowly wrap your arms around him. "i love you.." you stare at the show in the sky. "i know.. happy birthday." jake tried not to notice you didn't say it back. but he wasn't expecting much. because no matter how much he made you feel loved, this just wasn't it.

he knew. he knew all of it. he knew that even if you still liked him.. your heart belonged to another. you just didn't know it.

--------------------

about a few weeks after the final date, jake reaches out to you. saying he wanted to meet up on november 30. you don't know why he had to push it back two weeks to hear your answer. but you knew the feeling. the feeling of wanting to stop time and just love a little longer.

sunghoon had barely asked you about any of the dates with you and jake. and to say you were worried was an understatement. whether you noticed or not, sunghoon's opinion mattered a lot to you. you thought about it. why your heart ached when he wasn't home much anymore to ask you things and why it bothered you so much to not see him in his room before going to sleep. he'd been the guy you go to. the therapist that helps you solve any situation. the ice skater who helped you open up when you doubted your skill in photography. the guy that reminded you your self worth and brought you back to this world. the best friend you fell in love with.

you blinked at your realization. all this time you had thought falling in love with jake was easy. maybe love wasn't supposed to be easy. maybe it was supposed to be a roller coaster. driving over to jake's was now a lighter feeling than how the day started off. when jake saw you parking in the driveway, he prepared himself. he took in a breath and opened the door.

"want some tea?" jake offers, knowing you're not here to stay long anyway. but it was still worth a try. he told himself that he'd give it his all and he was trying. even if he knew, nothing would ever work. you shake your head and sit down on one of the chairs by his kitchen counter. "jake.. i came here to say that-"

"wait," he stops you, scared. "lemme go first," when he sees you nod softly, he gulps. "look. the past three dates has been everything to me. i don't regret any of it. i'm so happy i saw you smile. i'm so happy i got to hug you. and i'm so happy i got to tell you that i love you. one last time..," he bites his quivering lip as tears rise up in his eyes. "i know what you're here to say. so i just wanted to say thank you. thanks for giving me a chance to love you again. thanks for giving me a chance to treat you the way i couldn't back then." hearing his voice crack made your heart break. you wanted to wipe his tears away but you know you shouldn't. you don't get to since you're the cause of those tears anyway.

"jake..," you watch his hands shaking in his lap, slowly placing your hand in his. you feel his tears falling on your fingers, tears threatening to fall yourself. "i'm sorry i can't tell you what you want me to say. thank you for showing me the person you have become and that you will find someone better. i know that's such a bitchy thing to say. but i mean it. jake.. you've grown. and i really would've liked it if this would've worked. but i'm.. i just-"

"you love sunghoon," as you look up, a tear falls down your right cheek. he slowly stands up, sniffling through his tears. "you should go to him. i know he's probably wrecking his brain right now, waiting."

you let out a chuckle before wiping your own tears. "can i hug you?" you nod as you allow yourself to be engulfed in his warm embrace. jake's uneven breathing didn't make any of this easier. after about a minute, you slowly pull away. "thanks jake.. for everything." with a nod of agreement, you both let go and he walks you out.

"y/n...," you turn around. "at least tell me one thing.. will he treat you better?"

"mhmm.. he's the best."

"then.. that's all that matters."

as soon as you get in your car and you're on the road, your phone starts dialing. and to no surprise, you're hit with voicemail. "hoon? i have something to say to you. i'm on my way home. please.. please be there.." you knew sunghoon felt something for you. it'd be crazy if he hadn't. almost every friend of yours has asked you if you were dating him. just by the way he looks at you, treats you, and finds some way to stop you from going on blind dates; that your friends set up. you just didn't say anything because it wasn't like you could reject him and risk loosing him forever or accept him while you were still in love with another. your parked car in the driveway was nothing near straight but you honestly just wanted to get back into the house. running to the door, frustrated that you couldn't find your house keys. but when the door unlocks and you're met with just the man you wanted to see, your body just wants one thing. you immediately hug him. "i'm so sorry.. i'm so sorry for not doing something before."

"you idiot. i've been waiting for like three months. if the past two years doesn't count." you were so relieved from his words that your heart skipped two beats.

"look hoonie.. i don't know what to say."

"then don't say anything.. just kiss me." not even a second passes before your lips are on his. despite the ticklish feeling of his eyelashes batting against your cheek and the fact you two were still at the door, this couldn't have felt more right. you and sunghoon. you should've noticed sooner. but for now, him having his hand on your back and the other on your neck was just perfect. it felt like nothing in the world could go wrong. after a while, you slowly let go. only because you were running out of breath.

"so. do i get to meet your parents now?" you chuckle at the way his mind works. "yes.. i'll arrange something," you slowly watch him close the door and walk you to the sofa. the two of you lay together, your head on his chest as he softly combs through your hair. you hum at the feeling. "at least i won't have to see my dad alone.."

"what happened? with your parents, i mean. you never told me why you're so scared to see your dad." with a sigh, you stare at your hands intertwined with his. "well.. the thing with my dad is that.. i've watched my dad fight with my mom one too many times and after siding with my mom in the divorce, i'm scared that he hates me. he's not abusive or mean or anything, actually. in fact, i love my dad. but i'm so scared that he doesn't want to see me anymore. especially after i literally ran when he saw me at the grocery store five years ago. he hates me. i just know it.."

you watch as sunghoon gives you a very judging look. "really?"

"what?"

"y/n.. what's not to like about you being his daughter? i'm sure this is all just a misunderstanding. you know what? you're gonna go see him. now." sunghoon instantly starts packing some stuff in a bag and running to get the car keys that you had just threw on the ground a while ago. "wait! wait.. can you come with me then?" sunghoon's grin slowly changes into a terrified facial expression.

"me? meet your father?" a few seconds later, and jay comes walking down the stairs. "so yall done now?" the blushing looks of both your faces was enough to make jay chuckle.

"how long were you there?"

"long enough to say finally. come on. pack up. i'll drive us over to your dad's house. in fact, sunoo texted me that he has a cold but sunoo has to stay at work. so we're gonna go there and take care of him."

--------------------

the loud sound of your heartbeat echoed in your chest, all the way up to your ears that you could barely hear anything around you. as you waited at the doorstep of what you've been told was where your dad lived, sunghoon holds your hand tightly. jay chuckles behind the two of you when he sees the two of your shoulders tighten at the sound of footsteps getting closer.

"who is it?," as the door opens, your eyes widen. you curse at yourself just imagining how stupid you must look. "y/n."

"dad?"

"uhh... come on in." your dad clears his throat and moves out the way. hesitant, but you enter, taking in the view of the house. when you're suddenly pulled back into a hug, who you assume was sunghoon, or jay, was the very father you believe hated you. "dad.."

"y/n. i am so happy to see you here. i really am."

tears rose up as you wrapped your arms around him.

--------------------

10 months later and today was the day of the beijing winter olympics. you're in the crowd, cheering for park sunghoon, your boyfriend, right next to all the boys and your father sitting next to you. hearing the crowd chanting your boyfriend's name made you feel proud. you glance over at jake who was it obvious he was staring. and for once, you had the power to stop looking. not like all those years. and for once, you're looking at someone who loves you as much as you love them. you join in with your fans.

"park sunghoon! park sunghoon! park sunghoon!"

you watched as the scores to his short and free add up. his ranking going from 4th to 2nd and a point away from 1st to "park sunghoon! 1st place for the beijing winter olympics! congratulations!!" the last thing you remember is screaming and the place going wild.

--------------------

the after party was as good as it gets. a little bit fancier than what you and your boys are used to. but they offered coffee ice cream, sunghoon's favorite. but now that you were back home, you were able to grill steak outside and hold a little after party amongst yourselves.

once everybody left, you and sunghoon find your way outside again with a bottle of wine and glasses. "sunghoon.. congratulations."

"i won it for you."

"what do you mean?"

"do you remember when we first met? and you told how amazing it'd be if i won 1st place at the olympics.. that you'd grant me a wish," you blink, reminiscing the moment, slowly nodding. "well, i was going to wish for you to give me a chance. but since that's already happened.." you watched as he cleared his throat and started to bend down on one knee. you gasped, seeing the box in his hands.

"oh my god. sunghoon." your hands covering your mouth in shock. "y/n.. for as long as i've known you, i have spent every second liking you and loving you. i overthought every single detail. but now that it comes to this, i thought as long as i'm the one down on one knee and you're the one in front of me, where i do it, how i do it, when i do it.. it shouldn't matter. i love you, y/n. will you be the one watching me from the stands at competitions as long as i shall skate? and will you let me be the one to love you from now and forever? marry me?"

"yes.. yes! oh my.. hoon yes!" the next thing you know, people surrounding you in hollers. "you guys didn't go home yet?" sunghoon's confused look makes everyone laugh. "after making it that obvious you were proposing? hell no." sunoo says.

"well.. can we have our moment before you ruin it even more?" you say as the boys crowd your romantic moment. they all start mumbling apologies, giving you two space. "anyway... where were we?" you smile as he wraps his arms around your waist.

"i believe we were about to kiss."

"i believe you said yes..

"i sure did.. i love you."

"and i love you, my love.."

#gureumcity #enhypen #engene #sunghoon #jake #park sunghoon #sim jaeyun #enhypen oneshots #sunghoon oneshots #enhypen imagines #sunghoon imagines

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ganymedesclock · 1 year

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From what you mention it sounds like a good story would have no heroes or villains, just weirdos living their lives and other weirdos who get in their way. Just circumnavigate that conflict completely and move on to something new and more interesting.

Ehh, that's not quite the takeaway from it I would have!

I think it's fine to have heroes and villains. Most of my favorite stories do have those distinctions. My point is that you have to accept those categories are wibbly, context-conditional, and aren't personality traits.

Let's pick an example: Muska from Castle In The Sky. Unambiguous villain. Does not have a secret nice side. Really, very nasty especially towards the finale.

I don't think the problem here is that Muska is a villain or that he lacks requisite moments of "well at least he is nice towards something" to create 'complexity'- if anything I think that could clutter up the narrative.

The thing that makes Muska good, to me, is that he feels like a real person. He has specific qualities. He has things he believes. We can speculate or extrapolate how he became that way.

He doesn't do anything "because it's evil". Even what could come close to an anvil-worthy moment when he tears through the undergrowth and roots trying to reach the giant etherium crystal, ranting about how filthy this natural beauty is, aligns with character traits we know he has. He's a controlling perfectionist who's ultimately only interested in his own vision of how things should be. He's also in an ecstatic frenzy of how his moment is at hand and he's won almost everything; tripping over a plant or having to brush some tree roots out of his way is agonizing when this is his victory and everything should be perfect- and this intolerance is a consistent pattern in him, brought to the surface by this moment of excitement.

That's interesting. I could write a much longer, denser post exclusively about Muska and how he ticks. That, to me, is the catch here: you have to act like your villains are complicated moving pieces.

The problem is when the assumption is that some people are just inherently evil and you don't have to ask why or how they got that way or in what way. The problem is when you just assemble everything you don't personally like together into one character, creating unfortunate associations (see: any media where the only characters who are fat or ugly are bad people, especially with the implication we're supposed to find them disgusting)

Likewise! It's very very important to keep a bead on why your heroes are heroes. Otherwise you basically have "it is okay when Link comes to town and essentially manipulates people by doing things until they give him the Sacred Stone but it is very not okay when Ganondorf does that exact same thing and conveniently the actions Link has to take to get the stone are nice while the implications are pretty good that if Ganondorf could have done favors and made nice to get what he wanted, he would have since in the same game he explicitly cozied his way into the royal family's favor so he's not incapable of doing that"

The part where "the hero" or "the villain" creates problems is when you stop there. That's when it can become a petri dish for prejudice or just a sneaky place for weak reading or writing to hide. Especially when, if you look at fandom posts, you can often see how people's personal hierarchy of who's the worst villain is, well, personal.

And that's not a bad thing! It's to be expected frankly. A hundred people might agree murder is wrong but why it's wrong and what about it is wrong is a minutiae that splits things. So whoever seems "the absolute worst" to us is always going to be personal. Some forms of evil are more intimate to us than others. And we shouldn't get rid of that... but it's important to separate "is objectively worse" from "feels worse to me personally"

#writing ruminations #long post

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faebriel · 9 months

Text

and you caused it: chapter 2

(click for more detail!)

In which Niki has a terrible secret, Puffy just wants to move on, Tommy sneaks into casino parties and Wilbur learns to deal with anger being justified. Or - the one thing they don't warn you of, when dropping nuclear warheads on old friends, is fallout.

in chapter two: arguments are had. roommates are invited to crash on an attempted murderer's metaphorical couch. more emotionally intense conversations are had over l'manberg's skeleton corpse, and niki is once again alone.

wc: 5k

Wilbur has always been a builder. Alright. Perhaps not practically. Wilbur's attempts at piecing together bases made of wood and stone leave much to be desired. But metaphorically, there's the crux of it - Wilbur builds stories, narratives, chord progressions and nations. There is something about the world, as caught in his eyes, that is always empty. Devoid of life. Wilbur simply seeks to fill it. Find empty forestland, build a camper van. Build a so-so drug empire. Build a story around the camper van - some quirk to draw them in - and then build your nation, pinning your Declaration of Independance right at eye level as one waltzes through the door. Lose a war. Lose your brother. Lose an election, and build a network of TNT beneath the earth so vast and complex that despite the months that trickle from Schlatt's inauguration to Dream's patronage to Wilbur's blissful destruction, not a single person figures out how to defuse it. (Who is they, one might ask. It's a valid question. Ask Wilbur, he might say his brother, he might say the people - if one happens to be a cop, he might tell them it's none of their fucking business and come back with a warrant if they come back at all. He won't tell you they is simply Wilbur. He won't tell you that without the story, without something to fill his mind with colour and give him direction, there is no Wilbur Soot at all.) The point of all this is: Wilbur lives in constant need of some project, something to build, something that destroys. Even ill, he cannot stand to keep his hands idle. This is, perhaps, what led to his demise. It is, in any case, what leads Wilbur to the office of one Captain Puffy. “I do appreciate you lending me your time,” he says, taking a seat in the plush, worn armchair in the corner of the room. Backed in by walls, which he supposes must feel safer for the woman sitting in front of him, pen and clipboard in hand. “I know you’re not officially practicing anymore.” He’s not sure if she was officially practicing ever, actually. There’s no certificate hanging on her wall, only tapestries and paintings - fading cloth in greens and blues, and a painting of breaking waves that stretches across the wall almost as long as his armspan. It is cluttered, lived-in despite its title as an office. Above all else, clearly marked as the captain’s territory. “It’s no trouble,” Puffy says. “I’m glad - it’s nice that you wanted to come, in the first place. I did just want to spell some things out before we start, though, yeah?” Wilbur inclines his head. “Take it away.” “Right.” Puffy resettles herself in her seat, pushing a handful of curls - these ones pearl-white, although it almost looks like the browner half is the part that’s been dyed - behind her shoulder.

puffy informs wilbur right off the bat that, well, patient confidentiality is a thing - she's not gonna tell him anything about tommy, or his recovery (recovery from what, wilbur thinks - because puffy is not as slick or as licensed as he necessarily assumes she is, and can be so dedicated to her pursuit of justice that sometimes she lets the cat out of the bag). no matter! wilbur is not here to talk about tommy. in fact, he'd rather ask puffy a couple questions about herself. and, would she be interested in attending a party in las nevadas, only a few days from now?

---

las nevadas is in pandemonium but for once, wilbur can't bring himself to care - he storms after tommy, racing with thoughts that tumble over themselves in their rush to make themselves heard.

he feels betrayed. he's hurt. he's always thought the world of niki, he trusted her, he cared so fucking much what she thought of him - thought she must hate him, after l'manberg, not even worth begging for her forgiveness, couldn't keep himself from crying when she dared to give it anyway - and the whole time she'd tried to kill tommy, his brother, and did nothing but smile quietly and evade questions. the thought chafes at him. it hurts. one of his closest friends, his first lady, the entire time -

(he hadn't thought to ask those questions, but wilbur is not in his precisely right mind at the moment.)

tommy, though, makes evasion into an artform - he refuses to answer wilbur's questions, parries back with his own (admittedly deserved) barbs about the casino and quackity who does not matter right now, they're talking about niki, he'd welcomed niki into their country and their stupid dinner and tommy hadn't said a fucking word to him about it. does tommy truly not trust him so much? is he so naïve, to take a raw betrayal on the chin like this?

"She tried to kill you!" "Dream did kill me!" Tommy shouts. "Dream - he, he - he killed me and you didn't even care!"

that's not true. of course wilbur cared when tommy died, but -

limbo has a way of blurring things. for instance, priorities.

and besides, this is more than murder, this is a betrayal, he insists - a crime for the innermost circle of hell. not that tommy cares. worse things have happened. wilbur has happened. dream, apparently has happened -

and tommy refuses to divulge a word more, puffy told him that he doesn't have to tell wilbur shit if he doesn't want to and wilbur's not gonna tell him not to listen to his therapist, is he? tommy rips into him - because this isn't about wilbur, wilbur wasn't even there, he was dead, and who did that, wilbur? it's none of his business, and if tommy had his way wilbur wouldn't have even found out, because tommy knew this would happen. he knew wilbur would make this about him, knew he would twist it into something that makes the word l'manberg go sour and sickly in tommy's mouth - and wilbur can harp on about betrayal all he wants. he cares about this because it affects him. and if he fucking cared, he'd know that a near-miss with a warhead is not even close to the worst thing that's happened to tommy. he'd let tommy settle his friendship (wilbur scoffs, and that only proves tommy's point, he shrieks) with niki. it's not even close to the worst things that have happened to him since wilbur died, and if wilbur cared outside of making things all about himself, he would know that, too.

it's easy for you to be all buddy-buddy with dream, tommy retorts. it's just fucking easier for you.

and this time, wilbur lets him go - watches him disappear into the smoke and rubble, and it's a sign of how close he and tommy are these days that he doesn't even know where tommy's going.

he can't stop the river-rush of his thoughts, stewing and self-critical and fuming with a sense of anger and betrayal and loss that he can't control - he'd have better luck trying to shift the tides themselves. if niki is, as it turns out, horrible terrible awful betrayer no-coming-back - what does that make someone like wilbur?

---

niki wakes to what feels like one of the worst mornings of her life.

the thing about this morning in particular is that for once, it's not someone else's fault that she's so miserable - there's no war, there's no fruitless bickering over countries, there's nothing but the quiet sound of her breathing in her underground city. but she still feels miserable.

she drags herself to the arctic for the syndicate meeting, hoping to cling to some semblence of normalcy. she ties wobbuffet's lead to the pens, and descends to the syndicate meeting room - and is beyond relieved to see, at least, that techno has returned.

if they know what happened last night, neither he or phil are saying anything. ranboo, to his end, gives her a briefly awkward glance, but otherwise seems happy not to unsettle the waters. thank god. the meeting opens, as planned, and the three of them welcome techno back to the main server. techno is just as happy to see them (although he still tries to hide quite how much, still a bit vulnerable about this whole having friends thing), and summarily informs them:

quackity and sam are torturing dream in the prison

he has, in fact, spent some time in the prison (thanks for the escape, phil, definitely didn't leave me hanging for a good couple weeks) and seen this with his own two eyes

and techno owes dream a favour, y'know. from l'manberg days. so the syndicate is going to break dream out of the prison.

cue mild pandemonium.

phil's heard the plan already, he has no questions. ranboo and niki, though, hearing this for the first time, have several - mostly centred around why are we breaking dream, of all people, out of prison - prison the server put him in, we were there, we were both there. niki has never liked dream, and really, was more than happy to see him put in the prison - he's a bully, he's a tyrant, and if anything his imprisonment kept her and jack from having to sort out how exactly they would well-deservedly take him down a peg after the whole. y'know. tommy thing.

(she hasn't spoken to jack in quite some time, she suddenly thinks again, spurred on by the memory of their talks. it's another thing to feel guilty about, even if jack made it clear her presence, if not productive, was not wanted.)

ranboo, on the other hand, is terrified - especially after the night before, still twitchy.

"Dream isn't - he isn't safe! He - Techno," and their voice drops, "the voices - " "You'll be fine," Techno assures him. "Besides, wasn't the point that he was messing with you to do shit that he couldn't? When he's outta prison he's not gonna mess with you anymore. Easy." "It's not - I - it's not just that, actually, anyway. I mean, he tried to kill Tubbo. In the vault, and everything." "I have also tried to kill that guy," Techno explains, as if to a young child - "many times. Water under the bridge. No big deal." Ranboo's face takes on an ill-fitting shape - stony, for a brief second cold - and says testily, "I wouldn't say that - "

ranboo tries to push their arguments further, but splutter to a stop - his head hurts suddenly, claws finding their way to press against his temple, and eventually goes quiet. niki, though, is still frustrated. she's never liked dream, not from the very first second she stepped on this server. she was perfectly happy to leave dream in prison. he's not the only bad person, sure - are there others niki has thought deserving of being locked up in her time, some more validly than others, absolutely - but he's a tyrant, and niki said her piece when it comes to playing nice with tyrants years ago. she doesn't.

(and if dream is out again, some part of her thinks - with dream comes war, and with war comes more betrayal and hurt and uncertainty and instability, and niki feels unstable enough thanks to what she's wrought with her own two hands. she already feels like she's spent the last twenty-four hours tumbling downward, and if dream is free, the ground beneath her will shake hard enough that she will never be able to get herself back up. she's safe. she was - and, she tries to remind herself, will be - happy. she doesn't want a selfish bully to ruin that because techno thinks he owes something to someone who shouldn't be owed a thing.

and, she hates to think it - she's heard tommy ramble, even when she knows he hopes she's forgotten, and she's heard him rattle off his rambling fears of dream. and she saw the vault. she saw tommy and tubbo in the vault, beaten and bruised and with a blade to tubbo's neck. and puffy always seemed to know more, barely keeping herself from spilling whatever else tommy has told her. niki has known tommy has... problems. and that's sat with her uncomfortably since that night in her cabin, baking bread, because he was far kinder to her than she deserved because he could see that she was struggling and she, well, hasn't done the same.

thinking of niki's part in all this, now that it has been dragged back into the open - of wilbur's blatant interrogation of him even as tommy practically begged him to shut the fuck up - yes, she feels like to some extent, she owes him a favour.)

techno, though, responds with unexpected ire - so niki doesn't feel like helping? it's not even a case of what if one of their friends was stuck in there, under quackity and sam's control - techno was stuck down there, and yet apparently taking down such an oppressive power isn't something niki cares about?

the ensuing argument is defensive and nasty. both techno and niki feel deeply hurt, feel that the other doesn't care about their safety, and both are stressed enough to lash out at each other about it - and phil and ranboo are both mostly unwilling to step in. for niki, though, it's not just a matter of whether she participates herself - she feels that if dream is out at all, her world will get turned on its head. and to be entirely honest, she's not in a good headspace right now. if techno is painting himself as an adversary right now then niki will fight tooth and nail, because there's that awful cloying anger crawling up her throat and god, it has to go somewhere.

so in a desperate attempt to call off the thing, niki threatens to leave the syndicate if they break dream out of the prison.

...it's a respectable attempt at a trump card. unfortunately, three-fourths of the decision has already been made. techno, feeling defensive and angry and above all else betrayed by niki's apparent lack of care for what could have been his plight, informs her promptly of where the door is. ranboo, struggling to hold onto his waking self, has nothing to add. phil makes an attempt to soften the blows between them, to keep the bridge from being burnt - but niki is furious and embarrassed that it didn't work, and techno is just incensed enough to let her leave.

niki storms out, retreats to her little cottage. she stands in the centre of the small space, passively taking in all these small details - her weapons rack, her baking nook, her winter quilts and her flowerboxes. so many of them from techno, phil and ranboo, and now she can hardly stand to look at them.

she rips through the cottage like a hurricane gone loose. every plate and dagger and glass bottle goes crashing to the floor, blanketing its surface in a snowbed of ceramic and glass. pillows are thrown at walls. a bag of flour is ripped, and spills across the floor like even more snowdrift. and then niki stands in the centre of it - some part of her hoping to god that the others are still deep in the syndicate room, though most of her just doesn't give a fuck anymore - and wails.

she did the right thing. she did the good thing. she knew the villain was imprisoned for a reason, she believes in that imprisonment, she was right there when he was sentenced and every drop of her blood sang for revenge as he was silenced. and now she's thought about the hurt she's caused people, and for once, she stood up for him instead. she's lost the final tethers she had. she's unmoored. adrift. nowhere to go but beneath the earth. it's one thing to lose the syndicate, another to lose wilbur - to lose both, all in the span of a day, is a blow that niki isn't sure she can handle.

and it didn't even fucking matter, because they're going to break dream out anyway.

Each shard of glass is a face in the vault, discarded against the wooden floor.

niki is furious. furious at techno, furious at phil and ranboo for doing nothing, furious at herself - guilt is not something she has had to reckon with before, and the feeling chafes at her like an ill-fitting glove. there's always been a sense of discomfort that comes with being wrong, that moment sent off-kilter, when her perception of reality shifts and what is and what is not change like water. she remembers when tommy died, when ripples cast across the water and her grudge was revealed as just as stupid and petty as it always had been, that the source of her fury was wilbur - and even then, how left me became died became suicide and fury sunk back into its forgotten twin, grief. but even then, it wasn't like this. it wasn't her fault. this, undoubtably, is. she thought she had gotten over it. perhaps that's an exaggeration - she thought she was getting over it, making amends, even if slowly. even if she couldn't quite say the words, admit she was wrong, make herself vulnerable again.

god. has she always been so selfish? so cowardly? when l'manberg burned, did niki even pull herself from its ashes? it doesn't fucking feel like it, now. it feels like every slow step of healing has been worth nothing.

it feels like the second she stopped being either of those things, she lost everything. again.

niki thinks of how even in the depths of their planning - at her worst, at her most violent (towards tommy, sure, but towards herself the most), even when they didn't trust each other - she and jack could always agree on one thing. together, they hated dream.

niki has been a coward. not in the face of tyrants, but in the face of her own guilty conscience - putting her name next to her misdeeds. fine. if the universe, threaded into puffy's voice, calls on her to make amends - so she will. and so she'll rip tyrants to pieces, if that is what clearing the conscience means for niki nihachu.

---

niki walks to snowchester. tommy opens the door.

"Niki?" Tommy asks, cautious. He doesn't close the door on her, as she thought he might - doesn't even waver, although his expression goes a bit shuttered. "What d'you want?" She thought about this. She ran it over in her mind as she walked all the way here from the Arctic, alone with her thoughts - she's rehearsed the script this time, wrapped the warning in wool, made sure she's careful, because she's trying - "Techno is going to break Dream out of the prison," she blurts out. Fuck. The effect on Tommy is instantaneous, a stormcloud rolling over him - first his breathing goes, and then a hand to the chest, as if he can't believe the lack of air himself. He steadies himself against the door, although his eyes sink to the ground, unable to meet hers, and all Niki can do is stand there silent and try to think think think and, not for the first time, think oh god please don't cry. She hears Tubbo's voice faintly down the grand entrance of the place, followed by footsteps - he recognises her as he approaches, shoving Tommy out of the doorway, staring her down with sharp animosity. "Get off of my fucking property," he informs her. "Techno's breaking Dream out," she repeats, and Tubbo's face falls. "You're lying," he says immediately. "They're not that stupid. They're not that stupid - " "Techno says he owed Dream - " "The favour," Tommy gasps. "Tubbo, Tubs - Dream helped him escape, after the execution - he always said he owed him something..." Tubbo's face goes sheer, snow white.

snowchester, once again, is now considered an almost-military base of operations - niki is clearly unwelcome, but her muffins still sit on the kitchen counter and she's the one with information (ranboo hasn't come home, he hasn't been answering tubbo's comms, and out of the three of them niki is somehow the one to see him last). there isn't much they can do. they don't have the force. and, of course, it wouldn't be hard for dream to find them. even if tommy never stepped foot in his hobbit-house again, dream would find snowchester too easily.

...an idea occurs to niki.

the underground city is not the perfect hiding place. there are people who know about it, people who can't necessarily be trusted - or at the very least, not accounted for. who knows what jack or hbomb or karl are doing right now. who knows what kind of assumptions techno would make if dream were to let slip that snowchester is empty.

but the two of them can't go on the run. tubbo has michael, for god's sake, and he's not putting that kid in harm's way for anything. it will have to be secure enough - shrouded, perhaps, by the fact that of all the people he's crossed, dream has never really given niki the time of day. and thank fucking god for that. tommy's been in better straits, and tubbo is still extremely suspicious of niki (he's pieced together how jack and niki would have pulled off this whole scheme of theirs, and his place in it, and he is not fucking impressed), but under the cover of night - on the eve of the prison break - they escape to the city.

niki watches as the three of them settle in. her underground city was meant to be a place for refugees once, away from the horrors of war - although that was before the nuke, and doomsday, and tommy burning that stupid house down. before even the detonation of november 16th. it has been a long time since refugees stayed here.

she supposes she should feel some kind of fulfilment, seeing it live out its purpose again. perhaps she does. mostly, she feels a bit awkward and uncomfortable. too vulnerable. maybe that's half the point.

it's a first step.

---

niki can't sleep.

is her pointless turmoil any surprise, at this point? after all that time alone in her city, somehow the thought of people actually inhabiting those empty rooms is just as distracting. she decides to go for a walk to clear her mind, and where should she end up but sitting at the edge of l'manberg's crater - feet tracing the old path to her bakery, before she burned it down with her own two hands - and who should she run into, but wilbur.

"O mighty Nemesis, amid the ruins of what she reaps," a voice drawls from behind her - and the sound of it is like ice water down her back, a harsh tug on the fragile threads barely holding her together, but she can't still bring herself to turn. Can't bring herself to see the look on his face - betrayal, fury, hatred. She lets her eyes sink onto the wreckage instead, every bitter angle of it. "I never really asked why that was your little codename, you know," he continues. "Seems a bit on the nose, don't you think?" Niki lets her forehead sink onto her knees. "Fuck off, Wilbur."

wilbur is not being his kindest. niki ponders whether she deserves it. fucking probably, right. she did try to kill his little brother. forget everything she's done since, because wilbur's always kept his allies close to his heart, and betrayal is one of those things that hurts him more than any blade would. she doesn't rise to his remarks. she sees absolutely no point in it. wilbur is stubborn as a bull when he wants to be, and after all these years niki's finally learned when to stop wasting her energy reining him in.

doesn't make her feel any better that his current rampage is directed at her, though.

he's stressed, you see - not that you would care is a halfhearted barb, and niki almost rolls her eyes at it - because he needs to find tommy. he needs to speak with tommy, but his base is empty and snowchester is empty and he's not replying to his comm and phil mentioned that he saw niki heading towards snowchester that afternoon. he doesn't suppose niki has seen tommy at all, has she?

she tries to keep her face even. but here's the thing -

niki could barely lie about committing a murder while actively leading the victim-to-be into a trap, and wilbur - who, if you think about it, never really retired from politics - sees through her attempts to evade immediately.

you know, wilbur says, and then - haven't you done enough? don't tell me you're causing trouble for him again. where is he? where is he?

she could tell him. probably, she should tell him. tommy is his brother, after all, and for all that wilbur's anger burns, she knows how much he cares about tommy. hell, once upon a time that was the entire point of her own... episode. but.

"I can't trust you," she says, pretends it sounds as definitive as she wants it to. "I can't - I don't think I can trust you to say. Not while Dream is out." Wilbur's eyebrows raise - his shoulders do too, lined with tension. "Dream is out?" "He will be. Tomorrow." Niki nods in the direction of the Arctic. "The Syndicate will be breaking him out tomorrow - not me, I'm not... with them anymore, but - didn't someone tell you?"

no, no one did. not phil, not techno, not ranboo. wilbur lives in phil's attic half the time now (more than half, she supposes, if she guesses how quackity would respond to the casino's destruction) and they hadn't said a word.

despite wilbur's apprehension over that, he has greater issues to deal with right now - incredulous that of everyone, niki doesn't trust him because of dream. (after, he reminds her - he keeps reminding her - after what she did.)

"I told you - I told you about limbo," he says, voice fraught. Even now, when they're fighting, some part of Niki hurts at the fragility in his voice. She steels her resolve. "I told you what it was like, about Dream - and you still don't trust me?" "I don't know," she says, and finds that to be, for once, the honest answer. "You said you were sorry about destroying L'Manberg too - you said you were done with all of that - and then, then Las Nevadas, Wilbur! How could you go back to that?" Even he has the shame to look abashed. "So many people could have gotten hurt. We were lucky - we were lucky - Ranboo warned us, and even then, it was close. It was too close, Wilbur. I don't - I don't know what else you'll do. I don't know anymore."

what else can niki say? yes, he told her about limbo. it sounds horrifying. it sounds heartbreaking. he also told her he was sorry for blowing up l'manberg, for forgetting the people betwixt the grand thing that was their country, and that he would try. and yet las nevadas' casino is in ruins, half the server barely escaping with a life intact. and even that was only thanks to ranboo, in the end.

more people would have died unknowing, entirely unaware of the danger until the ground lit up beneath them and they all woke up in their beds, sparkling with burns and regen effect - and tubbo has only one life left, and who even knows how lives work after revival? who knows how many other people in that casino would have one life left too?

he told her he didn't want to fuck it up again. and she told him you left me, you said you'd come back for me and you looked for the button first, and he did the entire fucking thing again.

niki could have died. again. because wilbur was silent.

this - this is the killing blow.

(for as hurt and disgusted and fucking confused as wilbur is, there is still a part of him - bone-deep and steeped in habit - that holds niki's words in high esteem. her response is perfectly predictable, in the midst of his own fury and feelings of betrayal in her direction, and yet the vulnerability of it all stings something fierce anyway.)

they splutter arguments at each other for a few more minutes, running hot with anger, but they achieve nothing. ultimately, both have said their piece - it is not long before even wilbur gives up on the conversation, retreating to the arctic.

niki is done with haunting l'manberg for the night, and returns to the underground city with an eye cast over her shoulder, just in case she's followed. wilbur is far from the type to stalk someone through the woods, but of every possible person on the server, it's his brown coat that she keeps subconsciously looking out for between the trees.

tommy is awake when she comes back, fidgeting with his comm as he sits in what was once planned to be a common area. he tries to call her over for conversation, but she brushes him off as she storms towards her bedroom, resigning herself to another night of staring eyes-wide at the grey, emotionless stone of her ceiling.

she doesn't see the frustrated kind of grief in his expression as she goes.

#my fics #and you caused it tag #wooooo #also i dont usually talk about designs but its art time so. tommy has one permanently dilated pupil from Prison Era #i think ive rambled about other design choices at length but i dont know if ive mentioned that one so. :]#my art

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bobbybutterfly · 3 months

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what do you plan to do with geumsaegi for you project? No spoilers

He’s pretty much the one main character of my Super Secret Project. The real main character is a blank slate so you could insert yourself or your oc into the story.

I’m exploring his psychology. Why he’s so eager to sacrifice his life on a whim. I know in the cartoon it’s because of propaganda. Duh. But I found it interesting. I had this idea for a scene in either a short story about Scout Gosemdouchi or in Super Secret Project.

Scout Gosemdouchi and Geumseagi are hanging out. Somehow the topic of what will you do when the war is over comes up. Scout Gosemdouchi plans on starting a family. Geumseagi suddenly realizes he never thought of what he was going to do. The idea of surviving the war ironically scares him. Seeing it as a failure he didn’t give his everything into keeping his loved ones safe.

It needs some work still done on it. Why does he have all those fantasies of meeting back up with his loved ones? Erm. Deep down he wants to be happy but doesn’t feel like he’s worthy. Why does he feel like he’s not worthy? You got to wait for me to finish working on the Super Secret Project to find out. But it’s probably because he feels like he fucked up and is trying to redeem himself, in his mind, through being a soldier.

The project isn’t going to follow cannon completely. For example Geumseagi always being stone cold. Instead of how it is in the show, where the war hardens him. And of course it wouldn’t be a Bobby Butterly glorified fanfic if there wasn’t a complex father son relationship.

Do you have some ideas for Geumseagis’s psychology? Feel free to write it in the replies.

Also feel free to sent me more asks about Squirrel and Hedgehog. It’s always fun to answer them.

#ask #squirrel and hedgehog #geumsaegi

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profutured · 1 year

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for the sake of keeping all this information in one place, here's a full list of AIdrés' abilities for as long as he remains within Area Zero. these are not public knowledge!

Locking or opening doors within Area Zero. This can be as simple as keeping the research stations open and accessible to outsiders, or a more complex process of creating/lowering the walls of security barriers in order to force people along a specific path. There is only one door he cannot unlock, and that is the single entrance into Zero Lab.

Manipulation of Zero Lab's facilities, such as lights, temperature, and the elevator that leads down into the time machine room. Should the lab ever become compromised by an unwanted presence, AIdrés is under instruction to make their descent as difficult as possible, and the easy first step is to plunge the whole building into darkness and shut off access to the elevator. The temperature control is to keep the technology working under optimal conditions, so is always being adjusted to account for the outside conditions and the body heat of those present.

Pokeball manipulation, mainly the 'locking' mechanism that prevents a pokemon from being summoned or recalled. He can lock the pokeballs of a specific individual (by targeting their unique Trainer ID), or simply do a blanket attack on every ball not registered to Turo's ID. This only works within Zero Lab, and is most effective in the time machine room.

Giving himself full access to an individual's phone or other digital device. This is an automatic process within Area Zero, usually just a surface-level monitoring of their GPS location, but it can be done outside of this area once he has the target's number or can find them via another's contacts list. It's the easiest way for AIdrés to keep tabs on a person and make sure that they are following any instructions he's given them, even once they've left the crater.

Scanning and investigating every person entering into Area Zero. What information he gains from this will be dependent on just how much of your muse is publicly known, but it's very, very likely that he's going to find something unless we have plotted otherwise. If they are/were a student at the Uva Academy, he'll already know their current grades, class attendances, registered pokemon, student ID number, full name, family address/es and contact information, etc.

Full, unrestricted access to any and all digital databases. There is nothing that can outsmart his AI, and no amount of protections can prevent him getting into those files if he really puts his mind to it. I go into more detail about this here. This isn't usually part of his initial introductory scans, but should you give him reason to become interested, concerned or suspicious, he'll be much more inclined to start delving through the supposedly 'secret' information hoards.

Supreme intelligence, just in general. Aldrés has the intellect of a supercomputer from a billion years in the future, the same time all of the paradoxes are being pulled from. His technology is impossible, it should not exist, but he does. It's fair to say that he goes far beyond the limits of organic intelligence, even when compared to powerful psychic pokemon like Mewtwo.

Pre- or during ScVi, he has control over the Iron Serpent, Miraidon. Not only will it obey his commands in battle, but he has possession of the Master Ball it's bound to and can call it back at any time. Miraidon is never used in the initial confrontation, and instead time machine will summon a team of Paradox pokemon once the phase one Battle Protocols have been activated.

The recognition of different gimmick items, such as Z-Crystals, Dynamax Bands or Mega/Key Stones. They all resonate at a slightly different frequency to Paldea's own Tera Crystals, and can easily be picked up by his sensors even if the item itself isn't visible. He's likely going to ask about these techniques, once he's confirmed someone is indeed capable of using them. He's curious.

On a similar note, he can detect all levels/types of radiation and the particles shed by people like Fallers. The latter will not be immediately identifiable as the influence of Ultra Space (not until he researches further or scans an Ultra Beast), but he will detect something is off.

#〔 headcanons. 〕#pokemon spoilers #pokemon scvi spoilers #this will be edited when necessary! I think it's useful to lay everything out like this

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canmom · 1 year

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Comics Comints 3: Animal Man

Previously on Comics Comments: [The Incal] [Solo Levelling]. (Yeah this name is kind of terrible isn’t it? Part of me is like ‘for god’s sake change it’ and part of me is like ‘commit to the bit’.)

I think you could say I tend to like three different sources of comic. One is webcomics. The second is manga (and also manhwa). The third? Comics written by a wizard in the 1980s.

You see, most of the real ‘classic’ comics from this period are by some sort of wizard. Alan Moore? Famously a magician and really looks the part. Grant Morrison? Chaos magician. Alejandro Jodorowsky? Read the last first post in this series lmao.

It’s not actually all that surprising since comics are an incredibly densely symbolic medium which give you a pretty direct line of attack on the collective unconscious, if you believe in that. Being a wizard is probably pretty good training for writing interesting comics. Or maybe Alan Moore’s success just kicked off a fad of trying to find more British wizards to move comics off the shells at DC - pretty much Morrison’s own account of their introduction into the world of comics.

And that brings us to...

Animal Man

(1988-95, written by Grant Morrison, pencilled Chas Truog, Tom Grummett and Paris Cullins, inked Doug Hazlewood, Mark McKenna, Steve Montano and Mark Farmer, coloured Tatjana Wood and Helen Vesik, lettered by John Costanza and Janice Chiang, covers illustrated by Brian Bolland... phew...)

So. Animal Man! Basically the story as Morrison tells it in the intro to the collected edition is...

In 1987, at the height of the critical acclaim for Alan Moore’s work on SWAMP THING and WATCHMEN, DC Comics dispatched a band of troubleshooters on what is quaintly termed a “headhunting mission” to the United Kingdom. The brief was to turn up the stones and see if there weren’t any more cranky Brit authors who might be able to work wonders with some of hte dusty old characters languishing in DC’s back catalogue. As one of those who received the call that year, I had no idea who I might dig up and revamp. On the Glasgow to London train, however, my feverishly overstressed brain at last lighted upon Animal Man. This minor character from the pages of STRANGE ADVENTURES in the ‘60s had always, for heaven only knows what murky reasons, fascinated me and, as the train chugged through a picturesque language of Tudor houses and smiling bobbies on bicycles, I began to put together a scenario involving an out-of-work, married-with-children third-rate superhero who becomes involved with animal rights issues and finds his true vocation in life.

You can read the full introduction here. It’s pretty funny.

In fact, Morrison is leaving out a little of the story. The ‘headhunting mission’ took place after Alan Moore decisively cut ties with DC over issues related to royalties (particularly for merchandising) and a proposed age-rating system. He stopped writing for them after finishing the last few issues of V for Vendetta, and DC went looking for someone new to fill his niche of ‘left-wing British guy, good at prose, wizard’. Along with Morrison, they found...

Jamie Delano, who was approached by DC as the writer of the Swamp Thing spin off Hellblazer; Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean, who collaborated on the Black Orchid limited series, as well as the famous and acclaimed Sandman; Peter Milligan, who launched a new Shade, the Changing Man series; and Scottish creator Grant Morrison, whose pitch of an Animal Man series was approved. Later British creators to work on American comics include Mark Millar, Warren Ellis, Garth Ennis and Paul Jenkins.

This also comes in a time when American comics are getting more and more literary aspirations: complex characterisation, more naturalistic dialogue, less emphasis on superheroes. Which can perhaps also be attributed to Alan Moore. The ‘British invasion’ might be compared with the rise of gekiga in Japan in the 60s and 70s, although here the change was happening not in alternative magazines like Garo but the most mainstream comics. Putting in a pin in that, because I need to learn more about this period.

I came to Animal Man knowing really only one thing: that it gets increasingly metafictional, culminating in an arc where the protagonist goes and meets Grant Morrison themself. This does indeed happen and it’s cool! But before that a bunch of other stuff has to happen to set up the thematic significance of this metafiction...

What follows: a lot of art and story breakdown.

Morrison is a very interesting figure who I’d like to learn a lot more about. I thought of them as another example of the ‘spend years making sequential art instead of transitioning’ archetype, but it seems maybe a little more complicated than that - I think I need to do more research before I try and say anything definitive about the many noticeable ways trans girls figure in the imagination of comics from this period, and it doesn’t factor much in Animal Man compared to say Doom Patrol.

Indeed, main character Buddy is an almost parodically Normal Dad, a blonde white man living in an American suburban house with a white picket fence and... well, 2 children, not 2.5, but you know.

Into this world comes all sorts of weird stuff because it’s a Grant Morrison comic, and a lot of the humour in the earlier parts of the comic comes from the idea of shining a look at the fringes of the DC universe away from the central superhero battles, with a local low-tier superhero making TV appearances and becoming a minor celebrity. I think ‘everyday life in a world where superheroes are real’ has been done a lot since then, but it’s done well here. Being a superhero for Buddy starts out as just a day job; obscure superhero teams from Morrison’s encyclopedic knowledge of DC comics history are made into obscure superhero teams in-universe as well.

I don’t read American comics nearly as often as I read manga and webcomics - working on filling in the gaps there - so it’s hard for me to comment on Truog’s art in contrast to other comics. Which means what strikes me is probably more traits of ‘American Comics’ than this one specifically, but what ho...

The immediate thing I noticed is the immense anatomical precision, particularly when it comes to drawing muscles - something I’d also been struggling with at the time I read it so I was paying attention lol. Peter Chung made an interesting remark in an interview which I’ll quote here...

I think a lot of illustrators realize—and you see this a lot in American comics as well—that if you draw costumes realistically, it's very difficult. You end up spending all your time trying to create believable drapery. So the tendency is to draw skin-tight costumes that mold around the body. This allows you to use the body more. You see this with classical sculpture, and dancers. You try to use the expressive qualities of the human body more—that's why sculptors prefer to work with nudes, as opposed to trying to make the clothing look accurate. Otherwise you end up concentrating on the clothing and not the person.

Fairly early on, Animal Man’s outfit is updated to include a leather jacket, and there’s a solid sense of how to handle the cloth. Here’s an action scene from fairly early on with Buddy fighting against a rat monster created by the tragic villain B’wana Beast (more on him in a bit)...

You can see how the cloth stretches at the elbow and bunches up on the inside fold. This also shows a few other aspects of the art: the shading is completely carried by hatching in the linework, with the colours being flat, either pastel or highly saturated. I think this is in part a limitation of the printing technologies of the time. There’s occasional use of screentone, as you can see on the top right panel there (which downscaling has turned into a moiré pattern...)

In comparison to manga, beyond the general differences in character design, it’s interesting to see what’s different in how action scenes are conveyed. The panelling is generally very regular and rectangular, but there will occasionally be layouts with figures overlapping the border. Some of the ways of conveying motion, like dynamic unbalanced poses, or replacing lines with perpendicular hatching, is also widely used in manga; some aren’t, such as the motion arcs you can see in the page above. There usually isn’t a lot of exaggeration or extreme perspective distortion.

I think the colouring weakens it. The colours mostly serve to separate out different volumes, but they don’t really convey much in their own right. Out of curiosity, I tried putting the page above through desaturate and threshold filters to see what it would look like uncoloured. Here’s a threshold, which is what the inked page would look like...

and here’s a desaturate, which replaces the colours with pure value:

So you can see having some values to separate different elements helps, but honestly I think I prefer it desaturated lol. Still, it’s much better than the overly rendered hyper-contrast style that became popular a decade later.

The other big thing that’s different from what I’m used to in manga is the large amount of narration accompanying panels, typically but not always first-person. This is apparently something Alan Moore is responsible for establishing with V for Vendetta. I think the potential drawback with this approach is that your eyes may go straight for the text boxes, and skip the drawings entirely.

There are absolutely good sequences though, such as when Buddy and his friend the physicist

Despite these small complaints, the art generally works very well. Where it gets interesting is later in the comic when things start to get very meta, so you get a character’s deterioriation represented by using unfinished art (sketches or uninked drawings), and later messing with the formal elements like panel borders. There’s a sequence where a highly advanced Buddy fights an evil version of Superman from another timeline during a massive reality breakdown provoked by a character who is aware of all the discarded storylines and timelines in the DC universe and wants to save them, and thus you get pages like this:

Animal Man’s villains are rarely ever especially villainous, and the tone of a lot of the earlier stories is Buddy finding out about the situation and trying to prevent a tragic outcome and usually failing. Morrison used the comic to some degree to soapbox for animal rights, with early arcs dealing with animal experimentation labs and sadistic dolphin hunters. At one point he even pops by the UK to help out some hunt sabs. But it’s more using this as a source for stories than something purely didactic, and leans into conflicts like Buddy’s ambivalence when his ecoterrorist allies kill a firefighter during an attack on an animal lab as part of a broader arc of his life going to shit; he is, superhero or not, just one man who gets swept up in larger events most of the time.

Speaking of larger events, Morrison’s run on Animal Man coincided with one of DC’s periodic massive crossover events called uhh (*looks up*) Invasion!. Basically a bunch of aliens show up, so Buddy’s helping fight them; then off-screen a ‘gene bomb’ goes off which scrambles Buddy’s powers. (This also played into Morrison’s run on Doom Patrol, which I’m still reading at the moment, so more on that in the future!) The storylines associated with this event - one about an alien artist who wants to terraform the Earth, the other about a washed-up suicidal supervillain - are both good, and ‘aliens show up’ is really not far outside the usual sort of things that happen in Animal Man, but it’s funny that Grant Morrison, at the time ‘just’ an up-and-coming new writer at DC comics, is now probably the only reason that this whole event is still remembered in 2022.

Anyway, let’s get into the metafiction stuff. The story is full of DC deep cuts, and Morrison seems to be very interested in how fictional characters are constructed, how they relate to their readers, how their stories are affected by the outside world...

The first movement in this direction is the story about Wile E. Coyote, which sees him rebel against God for creating a life of ceaseless violence for cartoon animals - only to be punished by incarnating him as a werewolf in the real world. Over the course of that story, Wile E. Crafty is run over, shot, crushed, and blown up, becoming a kind of Jesus-like figure whose suffering is supposed to save the animals. It’s a wonderfully batshit idea, and it works well in context - apparently this comic sold like mad so Morrison was encouraged to take it further. Animal Man’s role in this story - as in quite a lot of stories - is to witness Crafty’s death.

Thus over the course of Animal Man, we encounter a pair of aliens who find that the general trends in comic writing of the day - the emphasis on more complex characterisation for example - is increasingly straining the fabric of fictional reality...

The aliens stage an intervention to try and use Buddy’s memories to repair the timeline (or something??), but this ends up unleashing more chaos down the line, as more and more characters start attaining a fourth-wall breaking awareness. The next arc sets up some unexplained weirdness: a strange ghostly figure of Buddy attempts to communicate with his family, while meanwhile we’re introduced to the character of Highwater, a Native physicist who’s drawn into the mystery of an Arkham Asylum patient who seems to (for our outside eyes) have fourth-wall breaking knowledge.

So after the incident with the aliens, Buddy meets up with Highwater, and they go into the desert and have a peyote trip which leads to some fun imagery, hero gets power up. Meanwhile, government/corporate goons kill Buddy’s family. He gets back, and we find out the cause of the ghostly Buddy: distraught, he tries to time travel back to save them, but when his means of time travel doesn’t make that possible. The guy from Arkham Asylum meanwhile summons a bunch of DC characters from various discarded storylines and alternate universes; the aliens intervene, and Highwater ends up sealing it all off again, in the process becoming a mute Arkham inmate.

Buddy demands answers from the aliens, but they peace out; nevertheless he finds a strange door which takes him to a metafictional plane where he can - much like good old Crafty! - go and demand explanation from his creator. He soon finds discarded fictional characters in a realm where nothing can form stories, and is given a dying monkey with a typewriter that’s writing the comics script, and instructed to carry the monkey to the mythical city of ‘Formation’. (So I guess it’s still kind of animal related!)

But like all the other people Buddy couldn’t save, the monkey dies, and his journey takes him back to the start. After all this he finally gets to meet Grant Morrison!

The final issue has Morrison talking to both Buddy and the reader - giving acknowledgements, telling the story of their childhood imaginary friend Foxy, and explaining the craft of comics-making to Buddy and musing on the differences between comics life and real life.

Which is a fun little dialogue, because while it is drawing our attention to the constructed and arbitrary nature of everything in the story, it also at the same time has to function as a story. Buddy’s reactions - panicked incomprehension, questioning - have to continue to feel natural. Even though the comic is turning to us and saying ‘this man is fake’, it does its level best to cue us to think he’s real.

I like metafiction, but after you’ve handled the ‘character discovers they’re fictional’ scene, you need to figure out what it’s actually for. In this case, it’s part of the comic’s general theme of powerlessness and futility. Here’s the key page:

...which literally leads to a panel where Morrison turns to the camera and tells you to join PETA, something that hasn’t aged especially well. Morrison agonises a bit over why we use real death and suffering as entertainment - why they’d think about using their own cat’s death as material for this story - and then leaves, resurrecting Buddy’s family on the final panel.

So! Long summary over (thanks for bearing with me, I wanted to get it all straight in my head).

At this point, ‘fictional characters discover they are fictional’ is a pretty heavily done narrative, so you have to have some kind of very strong reason to use the device. I think that was way less true in the 80s - Italo Calvino’s novel If on a winters night a traveler was only published ‘79 after all!

In this case, its use is to provide a little reflective monologue on 1. living in a cruel and nihilistic world, in contrast to fictional characters who have a creator they can confront 2. Morrison’s position as an outside writer being pulled into the vast machine of the DC universe. Their intervention is... an interesting kind of critical, seeking to update rather than simply write out dubious past storylines, so the story acts as a kind of critical commentary on its predecessors. This is most apparent in one storyline which sees the old character B’wana Beast, a Tarzan-like figure who gets animal powers from a special helmet and is known as the ‘White God’, passing on his powers to a Black anti-apartheid activist. A lot of others simply deal with nostalgia, getting older, the world moving on and becoming more complicated.

Morrison describes their final storyline as an anticlimax. Which like... on the one hand, how could it possibly be? Buddy has uncovered the truth that no character in the setting can know. But on the other hand, by heavily emphasising everything is arbitrary, it does indeed dismantle the tension; there is no way it could be anything other than a final storyline.

Buddy spends much of his narrative under Morrison being unable to do more than stand by as terrible things happen around him. He tries extremely hard to be caring and empathetic, and this is often appreciated but rarely enough to save anyone. In the end he ‘realises’ that ‘he’ has even less power than that - he’s just an instrument of Morrison and whichever next writer (who would apparently choose to turn it into a story about quantum mechanical weirdness, but I stopped at the end of Morrison’s run) so not only are his efforts futile, even his motivation is also not under his control. All pretty solid as far as ‘pseudo-existential’ stories (in Buddy’s words) go.

And yet, as Morrison notes in their conversation, ‘Buddy’ will likely outlive Morrison themselves. To elaborate on that, we can see the figure of ‘Buddy’ conjured in our minds by the prompt of this book lasting as long as it continues to be printed, read, and iterated on - a meme, egregore, etc. etc.. This is the very hollow form of ‘life’ given to dead people who pass into memory, but it isn’t nothing; to create a character who’s not forgotten is quite an achievement.

Morrison’s theme of limited, even disabled characters for whom things never seem to go quite right is the whole impetus of Doom Patrol, so I guess I’ll pick up this thread when I finish digesting that one. Even so early in their career, they’re a very witty writer with a real knack for coming up with compelling, thematic scenarios and convincing characterisation. (Morrison had been writing comics in the UK for 5-6 years before that, so it’s hardly like this is the first time they wrote for a comic, but they were still younger than me at the point they began Animal Man.)

All in all, Animal Man is a compelling story that still holds up very well in 2022. If you want to read it, ComicExtra has the most complete collection of scans I found - scroll down to the 30th anniversary deluxe edition, which is annoyingly uploaded in reverse order.

Next up we’ll be doing a manga! I recently caught up with the absolutely delightful Witch Hat Atelier by Kamome Shirohama, and I can’t wait to dig into all the brilliant techniques she’s using in the art of this manga. See you then.

#comics #grant morrison #animal man #comics comints

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thesffcorner · 2 years

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Dark Parables: Rise of the Snow Queen

The third game in the series, and it is by far my favourite one. This is really where Blue Tea Games hit their stride; the art direction and aesthetic of the series became solidified, it has the best written story, excellent level design and a really good bonus game. It’s also the first game that introduces Parables, which provide another collector’s incentive, and add to the lore.

I both think that Snow White is the most complex and interesting character, and that this is the best best written story in the series. It’s an emotional and dark tale, while also tying in with the previous game. It also has the most satisfying ending. It’s also the only game in this series where the exploration and puzzle solving really are designed so that you slowly piece together what is happening in the castle. There is no Briar or Ivy telling you to go to a specific part or find a specific thing; everything you learn you learn organically from exploring the castle, and even when the other characters give you information, they have gotten it from the same clues you have.

Speaking of characters, this is the first game that has proper NPCs. Marie and the bodyguard did exist, but here, the characters are present throughout the whole investigation, and actually contribute to your quest. Unlike Briar Rose or Marie who you had to rescue, Kay, Gerda and Noah are proactive members of this tale, and even the other children we meet impart information or clues. It made this world feel so much more realized now that we know other people live in it, and when we have characters we care about at stake.

So let’s get into it. Like before, the game starts with a cutscene, this one of two children playing in the snow. The Snow Queen appears before them, and hypnotizes them with a golden apple; a moment later a beast takes them away.

Once again, you are the fabled Fairytale Detective, this time traveling to the Mountain or Snowfall Kingdom in Switzerland. During a snowstorm, all the children from the nearby villages have disappeared. Your guide, Noah, takes you to the gates of what was once the Mountain Kingdom, and asks you to find his son Kay who has also disappeared, giving you a photograph of him.

The first thing you find is an envoy from the Underground Kingdom, (before it was, you know, underground). James has sent his soldiers to capture the Snow Queen, but the soldiers were ambushed and killed. I wonder if James knew at this point who the Snow Queen was, but even if he didn’t, I really like this detail. It shows us that James was willing to fight to get his child back and hadn’t just given up on him.

Inside the castle, you see statues of the Queen and the Mountain King. This is odd, since the Queen isn’t exactly a positive figure for the locals. You also see a blonde child running around the castle grounds. She leads you to a crypt where you find 2 children who warn you that there is a beast around, and the other children are in the palace. You also see a memorial to a young Prince, seemingly, Snow Queen’s child.

The beast is indeed watching you, and after you find a piece of an emblem that can get you inside the palace, he creates a snow wolf to keep you away. Defeating the wolf nets you an ice stone, which is going to be rather useful. Sidenote, if you thought James was a dick for letting you die in the caves, the beast tries to kill you 3 separate times, one of which involves putting you in a freezing cell with an already dead body.

Inside the palace you follow a soft humming to the Snow Queen who has found Kay. She sees you, and erects a wall of ice, preventing you from reaching Kay. While looking for a way to the Queen, you run into the blonde child again, whose name is Gerda. She is Kay’s friend; when the Queen took all the children she hid, and has been trying to rescue him. She tells you she can sense magic radiating through a door, which requires a golden apple to unlock.

Looking for the apple takes you to the astronomy room, where you find a statue of the beast which morphs back into the Mountain King, as well as, many tomes on something called the Silver Moon which happened to coincide with the children’s disappearance.

You find said apple, and just as Gerda tells you she has figured out how to tell when the beast is close (the air becomes warmer), she gets taken. Inside the room you find a golden tree, full of apples. Eating a golden apple puts the person under a trance during which they don’t remember what they did, and the Snow Queen has been feeding the apples to the children, trying to find a Golden Child.

A Golden Child is blessed with the ability to be immune to all magic, and lift curses and charms with their tears. Their powers manifest during a Silver Moon, and the Snow Queen has been trying to find one for centuries. Just thinking about how many children have died in her search is a somber thought.

In the workshop you find notes on a balcony the King requested be made for the Queen, that can only be opened by a pendant. You use it and witness Gerda push the apple away from Kay. The apple reverts back to being ordinary; Gerda is the Golden Child, not Kay. The Snow Queen grabs Gerda, while the beast knocks the detective out.

You wake up in a cell, next to the previously mentioned dead body. Remember that ice stone? This is where you use it to escape, but not before you learn from your jail mate that the False Mirror is responsible for turning Snow White into the Snow Queen, and the King into a beast. If you have been reading the notes and paying attention, you already know that the King has ordered the real False Mirror be hidden in the treasury (there is a replica in the workshop). The False Mirror reflects and amplifies the worst qualities of the person; even its own creator was afraid of its power.

Armed with this knowledge, you find the treasury and where the kids are being held, locked in an ice cage. A girl tells you the Queen has Gerda, and Kay has escaped yet again. He is actually hiding in the vault, and you manage to activate a portal that takes you to the edge of the Kingdom.

Kay tells you that he stole a pendant from the Queen; he thinks it has to do with the crypt. Noah promises to return with supplies and rescue the kids, while you go explore. Inside the crypt you find the sleeping body of Snow White and the Frog Prince’s son, Prince Gwyn.

The following is more or less the story of how we got here: Snow White was the daughter of the Mountain King. Her father married the Wicked Queen and bought the Truth Mirror as a gift. The Mirror showed the Queen that Snow White was the fairest and the Queen cursed her. Prince James saved Snow White from the curse and took her to his Underground Kingdom, while the Wicked Queen, cursed herself, escaped.

James and Snow had a son, Prince Gwyn. One day while playing, Gwyn was attacked by a monster, and James’ guards weren’t fast enough to save him. On the brink of death, Snow White fed him a golden apple, placing him in eternal slumber, neither dead nor alive. No one James called could help the child, and blaming him for his fate, Snow White took him and stole away, back to the Mountain Kingdom. The King, already feeling guilt over failing to protect Snow once, tried his best to help Gwyn, but couldn’t. Whether James altered his curse in an attempt to save his son, or Snow White herself cursed him, is unclear.

Desperate, Snow White heard about the False Mirror, the Truth Mirror’s twin and found it. The mirror, using her desperation, tricked her into wearing a shard, and giving her father one which cursed both, reflecting their worst qualities: overwhelming grief and cold in Snow and rage in the King. The Kingdom fell apart, the King murdering his council after they tried to execute Snow, his most loyal of soldiers freezing to death, and the rest of the subjects escaping. The Mirror told Snow White that to get Gwyn back, she needs to fix it, and the only thing that could fix it is the tear of the Golden Child. The Mirror’s real intention is to reflect her grief and despair onto the world, plunging it into an eternal, frigid winter, as revenge for being locked away.

Noah returns and tells you to use a headlight on the watchtower to show him where the children are being held. Again you are attacked by the beast, and you use the tower bell to shatter the mirror shard, freeing the King from his curse.

Noah helps you break the children out, and gives you an ax, passed down through his family that can cut the magical vines in the solarium. Inside, you find the Wicked Queen’s cottage, and the true power of the False Mirror. You also learn that there is another portal in the astronomy room, which takes you to the Mirror’s hiding place, where you find Snow, Gwyn, Gerda and the King, gathered around the False Mirror.

Snow White forces Gerda to cry, ignoring the King’s attempts to reason with her. The Mirror rains a snowstorm on the castle, and the wounded King tells you to find pieces of a magical hammer that can destroy the mirror. He helps you forge it and you use it to shatter the mirror, releasing Snow White from her curse.

Overcome with guilt for all she has done, she cries for her son; Gerda cries with her, and her tears wake Gwyn. Snow White and the King thank you, and you and Gerda depart.

Bonus Game: Hansel and Gretel

The bonus level is the first one where you play as someone other than the detective; as this is Hansel and Gretel, you play as Hansel. All my praise for the base game translates to the bonus level too; my only issue is that it’s just very, very simple.

We start with Hansel and Gretel being abandoned by their stepmother in the Ogre Woods. They stumble onto a Gingerbread House, where the Evil Witch takes Gretel. Hansel has to find a way inside the house.

After you help an injured ogre, you get the key and inside you find Gretel trapped in some kind of glass box. The Witch’s servant, an imp asks you to free it and he will help you save Gretel. To do so you must first defeat a giant spider and find a potion from the Moon Goddess. This is also the second appearance of the Blue Tea Thief, this time having perished via said spider, Sheelob style.

The imp tells you about an eternal sleep potion you can make which requires several ingredients. You also learn that the Witch tricked the Fairy Moon Goddess into drinking a potion that leeched all her magic and then was trapped in a statue in the forest. After you put the Witch to sleep, the Goddess returns and makes you, or rather Hansel, the first Golden Child.

Overall, this game is good. The story is engaging, the gameplay is tight, all the characters are complex and likable, the magic has rules and there is some clever subversion of fairytale tropes. The idea that a mother’s love can blind someone so much that they can destroy the world for their child is very fairytale-esque, and I really liked that both King and Snow acknowledge that they have done terrible things to protect each other and save Gwyn.

The only minor complaint I have is the fairytale logic of the Mirror being evil because it grew angry with its creator for being locked away, but like… it’s a mirror. Why does it have feelings?

With a smash hit under their belt, and 3 successful games, it was time for Blue Tea to step up their game in the ambitious:

The Red Riding Hood Sisters

Introduction

#dark parables #dark parables: rise of the snow queen #video games #casual games

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