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bandaigaeru · 3 years

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song of the summer - bang chan

→pairing: ceo bang chan x gn reader

→genre: kinda strangers to lovers

→synopsis: he runs one of the biggest music companies in the country, yet he inducts you to help aid him and his friends, each of them deemed as representatives of the ‘big three’, for their next official comeback.

→word count: 12.5k

→ warnings: swearing, shitty father figure

A single question hangs over the dim conference room you’ve somehow scored a seat in. Does the general public want to see 3Racha? Bluntly, the answer is right in front of you. Glowing against the whiteboard from the overhead projector, the carefully curated slideshow answers the rhetorical question.

One of the dance representatives from the back of the room twirls his pen between his fingers. Leaning back in his chair, he apathetically wonders aloud, “So it’s true, then?”

“What’s that, Mr. Lee?” the marketing representative, a Mr. Choi, holds his remote between both hands as he leans toward the table. The word ‘full’ dances across his face as he steps in front of the projector’s path.

“That they’re making a comeback. A full one?”

Mr. Choi nods, scanning the rest of the patrons’ reactions with squinted eyes as he says, “That would be correct.”

Of course, the three who would walk onstage and perform aren’t here. Mr. Bang is probably running around, abiding by his role as the professional CEO who never skips a beat. Regarding the other two, you’re not sure. They’re not as predictable.

The project is pretty tight in terms of what needs to be met. Summer is around the corner, and everyone and their mother will be fighting to hold that mere title of having the temporary greatest hit. When the general public awaits their yearly easily digestible, flowery songs.

“Keep in mind that we are all under Bang! Entertainment,” Choi remarks, clicking to his next slide displaying headlines questioning the company’s next move. “It should go without saying, but all eyes will be on us as the season turns.”

You stare at the bolded words, trying to digest each of them. Joining the company was likely the best decision you’ve ever made, outside of adopting a cat named Loba. When you got scouted as a producer, you were under a different company. Bang! offered a contract, but didn’t require an interview because they ‘didn’t want to invalidate or question a talent they’ve already seen.’

It was an ego boost.

“I’m sure you all know what your roles are in this,” Choi says, taking glances around the room to make sure each face isn’t lost or distant. This is 3Racha we’re talking about. Everything must be perfect.

You take a glance of your own. A few belong to the dance department, some to hair and makeup; however, you are the only producer here.

You raise a low hand to garner Mr. Choi’s attention. “Why am I here?” you subsequently ask, dropping your hand and crossing it against your chest as before.

“The team personally requested you,” he says.

Connections, you instantly understand. In a place like this, in a time like this, they’re a necessity. Nepotism is practically required in the world of music, hence why it sucks for most aspiring indie artists. You didn’t choose to befriend a guy who happens to be best friends with one of the big three here. So, you cast a blind eye.

It’s all a game of luck.

The meeting doesn’t run much longer. A concluding statement with hints of a threat if anyone messes up rings through your ears. A project end date of July 20th, when the album is supposed to go live. You’re not nervous, per se. Simply blindsided given the lack of information. What’s the song about? When’s the due date? Will 3Racha come to you first, or do you have to take time out of your day to the CEO’s harrowing office? The uncertainties aggravate the impulse of opening a new document on your computer and delving into your producer rituals. You can’t create someone else’s project out of blankness. And that irritates you to no end.

Someone throws their arm around your shoulder in an attempt to throw you off your purposeful stride.

“Congrats,” the belonger says.

You glance over to look, even though you know the voice well. He is your connection, of course.

“Thanks.”

Minho pulls you back to a slower pace. Familiar faces from the meeting pass you to the elevator, a majority in a meaningless chatter. They expected an appearance on this project.

“What are you doing tonight?” he finally asks, stopping altogether and dropping his arm from your shoulder.

You shrug, looking curiously at him. Minho’s not one to beat around the bush.

“Hypothetically,” he starts, “how would you feel being invited to bro night?”

“And actually witness you or Felix puke on the lawn instead of hearing about it? No thanks,” you scoff, making an attempt to abandon the situation by following the distancing crowd.

He grabs your wrist, spinning you back to him. “Please?” His eyes are pleading, glaring back at you like an innocent kitten.

You tip your head and sigh. “Why?”

Instead of cutting to the chase, he sucks in a deep breath and says, “I’ll pay you.”

An eyebrow cocks. Regardless of your amusement—a desperate Minho doesn’t appear often—worries consume you. “What’s up? Why are you acting like this?”

Wary eyes jump around the hallway before they land back on you. “Follow me,” he mumbles.

His steps are calculated as he guides you to the elevator and presses the floor his office resides on. The ride is silent, as is the walk down the hall. You step into the room first, and he closes the door behind him. Despite the urge to ask if he’s about to murder you, you bite your tongue and take a seat on his upholstered couch. Identical to the one in your office.

Gently, he lowers himself into his chair. A few minutes pass of you simply staring at each other. Nerves crawl up your spine and you disguise them with a snarky comment. “Are you going to tell me why you’re willing to bribe me into spending time with your friends?”

In the time he takes to respond, you think about how the only mutual friend you have is Jisung. Sure, you know everyone on a name basis; but it’s not like you’ve known them as long as Minho. He doesn’t have other, more qualified, friends to drag to bro night?

“Chan’s kinda in a mood right now,” Minho’s words are slurred by the breath he releases as he speaks.

“And?” you press.

“I want you to see it before you work with him. And for him to understand you in advance. Y’know. You’re a little,” he hesitates, “forward sometimes.”

You should take this as an insult, but you can’t because words’ owner knows you too well. Minho never speaks unjustly.

“Touche,” you nod. It’s better to own up to your flaws. If you don’t, that’s how you end up walking into a carefully curated narcissistic personality.

His features loosen as he presses his forearms on his thighs. “So. You in?”

“I don’t really have a choice,” you emit a wry laugh. All in one sentence, you’ve managed to prove his point. It’s simple, really.

“You see, I’ve already told the boys you’re coming. Either way, I would’ve gotten you to go. The only other option would have been to threaten you with a knife,” he admits. As you gawk at him in awe, realizing you stand in the same boat, a proud grin grows on his face. With time, you begin to mirror the ones you admire. Friends, for example.

“I think Seungmin will like you,” he adds.

“Why do you say that?”

All you know of Kim Seungmin is that he’s in the vocal department, along with his younger counterpart Yang Jeongin, and that he’s a menace. Minho’s words.

“You’re both evil.”

That’s the last straw. You stand up without a word and stomp for the door.

His laugh echoes behind you, striking a quieter one of your own. Still, you stay in character and slip out into the hallway. Minho has won too many of these scenarios.

ii.

Loba sneaks into the kitchen as you wait impatiently for Minho. Thirty minutes. That’s how late he is. You consider texting him, but acknowledge the possibility he’s stuck in traffic or something. Agitation tells you to do it anyway since he only lives two blocks over.

The orange cat paws at your calf for attention, momentarily distracting you as you set your phone down on the counter. Minho’s chat is wide open. She, too, finds excuses for him.

Her head nuzzles against your palm as you scratch behind her ears. She meddles successfully enough to trick you into feeding her a few treats. While you reach for the top shelf of your pantry, a pair of footsteps sneak up behind you. Heavier than Loba’s.

“Did the cat convince you to spoil her again?”

“Son of a-” you recoil, whirling around to greet the man, the myth, the late bastard.

The familiar appearance of a sly smirk, mischievous eyes, and an outfit that makes him look like a casual runway model, pierce your vision.

“You’re late,” you mutter, stepping past him and scooping Loba up. You rest her head on your left arm, cradling her like a baby. She tilts her head up to stare back at Minho. Traitor.

Minho grabs the bag of treats for you.

“Sorry, I had to pick up Jisung. He’s in the car,” his voice trails as he slips his thumbs between the plastic fold and focuses on opening the difficult seal.

“Damn it,” he curses. Karma arrives faster in deserving situations.

“It took you thirty extra minutes to pick him up?”

He deadpans, “You know he likes to be presentable for the boys.”

When you don’t give him the satisfaction of a single laugh, let alone a change in emotion, he whines, “Oh come on, that was funny.”

“You trick me into going to your stupid hangout, and now you have the nerve to show up late?”

He sneaks a few treats to Loba. “You’re really not mad at me right now, are you?”

“Irritated, at the least,” you admit.

“Well, then I’m sorry. Jisung got off late so I had to wait at Bang! for him.”

The words sink into your skin, but you don’t acknowledge them further. The anger fades on the walk down to the car, a great distance separating you and Minho. It’s practically dissipated by the time you climb into the backseat of Minho’s Kia Soul.

Jisung turns in the front seat and offers his hand at an awkward angle. “It’s a pleasure to be working with you.”

You hold your seatbelt in one hand, accepting his with the other as you force a measly smile. “Same for you. Thanks for suggesting me to Mr. Bang.”

Confusion warps his face, twisting his eyebrows in a weird knit as he shakes his head. “It wasn’t me. Must’ve been Chan.”

Minho drops himself into the driver’s seat, suspending any further questioning.

Jisung returns to his original poise as when you approached the car. Eyes focused on his phone, actively typing something out.

You click your seatbelt into locking. An unnatural feeling plagues your gut. Mr. Bang wanted you on the team? It feels unlikely, but you know Jisung wouldn’t joke like that. Even if he were the type, his acting of unawareness gives away the truth.

Minho glances back at you in the mirror. “Ready?” he asks as his hand rests on the gearshift.

You press your lips into a line as you nod. “Mhm.”

You stare down at your hands carefully folded in your lap. For the first time since before producing, the itch to create is drowned by an intense, overwhelming brew of something lingering in your veins.

The expectation of you has pierced through the roof and is shooting out of the stratosphere.

Chan—Jisung quickly advised you to drop all formalities, so you’re rewiring your thoughts—has a home in Gangnam. Fitting for his status, but smaller than you expected. It’s still able to fit at least four of your apartment in it, though.

Jisung and Minho walk ahead of you up the stairs. The elevators in rich apartments on this end can only fit two people if you really scrunch together. What’s the money for, then?

“Today’s Monopoly night, right?” Jisung examines Minho’s side profile as he cautiously lifts one foot after the other. The stairs here are steeper than any you’ve seen. Hiking sounds better than this.

He hums in approval. “I guess we’ll sort teams later. We probably won’t live through the night with last week’s.”

A brash laugh escapes Jisung’s lips, subsequently echoing against the walls and bouncing back to your ears. “Right.”

You tune out their conversation for the rest of the climb, settling for watching your shoelaces sway with each step.

Jisung pushes on the door for the fourth floor, holding it open until you’re fully into the hallway. “Chan’s the second door on the right,” Jisung nods to one of the identical doors along the hall—appearing more expensive than your monthly rent with its rich stain.

Minho doesn’t bother knocking, instead opting for trying the doorknob. It allows access to the gigantic living space and the loud chatter previously muffled by walls.

You must be the last to arrive, but you probably could’ve guessed such.

“Hey,” Jeongin looks up from his conversation, inspiring a round of greetings from all the others.

“You all know each other enough so I’ll skip the introductions,” Minho glances between you and the group, starting for an empty end of the couch.

When Jisung follows his lead, you take a headcount. It appears everyone’s present except Chan—his birth name still feels awkwardly informal in your thoughts. You glance down the dark hallway to your right, counting one, two, three closed doors. Nature drags you into curiosity.

Seungmin, your alleged evil twin, waves you over.

As you take the empty spot beside him, he says, “Sorry, you looked a little awkward just standing there. Thought I’d save you before Hyunjin said something.” He shoots a pointed nod at the long-haired blond lounging between Changbin and Minho.

“Oh. Thanks,” you force a little smile that imitates gratitude. You didn’t feel awkward observing, but maybe your aura screamed otherwise.

Jeongin leans slightly over Seungmin’s shoulder with an inquisitive eye. “How did Minho convince you to come?”

“Blackmail,” you nod. Not attempting to summon a laugh, but managing so in the process.

“That’s Minho for you,” Seungmin tips his head in a slightly disbelieving manner.

“It’s okay, though. We’ll make tonight fun for you,” Jeongin raises his hand, and you meet it with a high-five.

Bro night might not be as bad as you thought.

“If only Chan comes out from his room,” Seungmin mutters, particularly to himself, as he leans his arm on the back of the couch and twists his body to look back into the hallway.

Questions. You want to ask them, but then Minho’s words return in full, blaring effect. Forward, he said. Meaning: blunt. In your face.

You bite your tongue. Redirect the temptation, you think, as your eyes scan the room. Admittedly, it’s odd seeing all these people away from their respective passions. However, Changbin’s phone is cradled in his hands, and his fingers are typing away potential lyrics. Felix, too, is hiding the fact his fingers are mirroring the directions of his recent choreography. Maybe passions are always a shadow of you.

“Should we just fix teams?” Minho says above the impatient silence.

“We can,” Hyunjin leans his forearms on his thighs. His hair falls in front of his shoulders like he’s some kind of Greek god.

“Team captains?” Seungmin asks.

“Let’s do the oldest of each unit, but since Chan’s God-knows-where, Changbin can represent,” Minho nods, glancing around for looks of satisfaction.

“Sure, rock-paper-scissors for who goes first?” Seungmin pushes a strand of hair out of his eye.

Short story short, Minho wins the first round with a victorious cheer of, “Easy!”

“You only say that because you know they always pick scissors first,” you accuse.

Minho points a finger at you, “Allegedly.”

You land a spot on Minho’s team since he got the first pick of the litter. Then, by Minho’s attempt at matchmaking, Chan lands on your team.

As you’re moving spots, you shoot Seungmin a sad, unmoving look.

He laughs, pushing you towards Minho. “Maybe next time.”

“What?” Minho glances between you. “Are you planning a coup against me?”

“You wish, Lee Minho,” you sigh, falling into the empty space beside him.

After a few beats of silence, for good measure, Minho leans down to your ear and says, “I told you you’d like him.”

“Yeah, he’s like a better version of you,” you turn to see the predictable look of offense on his features.

“Fine then, get Seungmin to drive you home,” he pouts, crossing his arms against his chest and pushing his back into the couch.

“Oh come on,” you nudge his elbow, laughing at his exaggeration.

You see a smile tug at his lips before he breaks, letting a chuckle break through his barrier.

In the remaining meantime that you wait, Minho calls dibs on the cat. Seungmin’s team claims the dog, with an offhand comment from Minho going, “You would choose the dog.” Finally, Changbin’s team chooses the hat.

“Is that a joke because you’re so short? So you can gain a few inches with the hat?” Hyunjin jabs.

Changbin reaches over the couch to try and hit him.

From this end of the couch, you can look directly into the dark, mysterious hallway. You watch as the second door knob slowly turns. You focus on it, and the shouting dispute fades out in your ears.

Chan steps out from the room, carefully closing the door behind him so as to not bring all the eyes on him at once. You fight your facial expressions to remain neutral as you take in his appearance—which is shockingly normal. Suits are his workplace fashion, and consequently, all you’ve seen him in. Now, he wears black basketball shorts and a black tee. His hair is even loosening into curls. Is this the same man who runs a massive music company? Are we sure?

His cover is blown the moment he steps into the light of the living room. Jeongin warily points a finger in your direction, “You’re on their team.”

Chan presses his lips into a makeshift smile as he approaches you and Minho. He pushes out a small ‘hey’ before taking his spot on the other side of Minho.

His reclusive figure makes your heart wrench. You wish you could have talked Minho out of going. To him, you’re just an outsider he has to put a front up for. But, the thing is, he isn’t trying to build a barrier. It appears that he doesn’t have any more energy to try.

You catch yourself staring when Minho nudges your knee with his. “You take the first roll.”

Collecting the die, you notice your hands trembling a little. Not good. You manage, somehow knocking Seungmin’s dog in the process. He feigns shock, whining in an accusatory tone, “You’re no different than Minho.”

The choir of laughter shuffles you back into reality when you glance back at your accused teammate, catching the look of the other. The corners of Chan’s lips are slightly turning up into a smile.

Whew. You’re amazed by the amount of relief that little smile gives you.

iii.

The game trails into the early hours of the morning, and a few times a boy will point at Chan and say, in an attempt to be lighthearted, “This is all your fault.”

To the dismay of the rivals, Changbin’s team manages to win. Jisung, a member of Seungmin’s team, flips the board twenty turns too late at the news. “This game is stupid!” he laughs through his words.

“You’re cleaning that up,” Changbin says as the money flutters to the rug beneath the glass coffee table. A cue for the group to laugh blinks above their heads, each varying in intensity. Hyunjin even claps a few times, for his vocal contribution pales insufficient.

Jisung slumps to the ground, “I know.”

Chan lifts himself from the couch to aid him with a lingering smile from all the laughs. As the night progressed, he seemed to slowly inch into his ‘normal’ state, as Jisung had referred to in the car.

Minho slips his phone out from his pocket. At the single-digit time, nearing close to sunrise, he heaves a sigh and pushes himself up. “Guess I should get you home.”

He extends a hand to help you up.

“You’re leaving already?” Seungmin asks.

“Uh, yeah. It’s like three A.M.,” Minho squints at him, turning his lit home screen at him for proof.

Chan snickers as he stacks all the thousands. “That’s early for me.”

See? He’s even making jokes now. This is a weird normal, considering all you know of him is his status, but admittedly better than whatever funk he was previously in.

“See you on Monday, I’ll just spend the night,” Jisung lifts his hand in a semi-wave.

Chan doesn’t protest. Instead, he looks up at you and sticks his hand up. “Can’t wait to work with you,” and smiles. Dimples indent his cheeks in a way that makes your stomach churn.

You take his hand and mirror his smile, though it’s rather genuine in comparison to the one you offered Jisung.

Minho has the decency to wait to call you out on it until you’re in the soundproof safety of his car.

“I saw that,” he says.

“What?”

“The smile. Don’t like Chan. That’d be way too awkward for me.”

You laugh, examining his twisted face of disgust as he starts the car. “Why?”

You’re not asking out of curiosity. You don’t like Chan, and you don’t see yourself liking him anytime soon. Or in the far future, for that matter. It’s just so easy to mess with Minho.

“Uh, my best friend dating my other best friend? That’s third-wheel central. I’m too hot to be a third wheel.”

Later, as you’re unbuckling your seatbelt to venture into the apartment building, Minho mumbles, “But, I mean, if you like him it’s whatever. I don’t want you feeling like you have to hide anything from me.”

You punch his arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You’re getting all sappy on me again. You don’t have to worry about stuff like that, dude,” you frown. Above anything Minho can say to you, his insecurities taking over his words hurts the most.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” you say, then adding, “Unless you want to come over sometime this weekend. I’ll be home.”

He smiles, though you sense the differing thoughts behind his eyes. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” you say before shutting the door.

iv.

In all the wrong ways, Monday comes too fast. Faster than you can process Friday night, essentially.

You try to scramble your remaining thoughts into order as you walk into the lobby.

Is Chan going to be normal today? Hoping so. Why was that relief so astonishing? Did Minho catch onto something-

“Hey, Y/N!” Jisung intercepts your thoughts.

Your eyes involuntarily widen as he pops out from seemingly nowhere. Your gaze drifts to his outstretched hands, offering you one of the drinks each brandishes.

“I didn’t know which you’d prefer, and Minho wasn’t awake so I couldn’t text him. So, I got coffee and tea.”

You take your pick and nod a ‘thank you.’

“How was your weekend?” you find yourself asking as he leads you to the elevator.

He shrugs, “I did absolutely nothing other than a brain detox for this project. You?”

Despite his back being to you, your chin twitches into a nod. “Same as you, pretty much.”

“I think Chan’s in a good enough mood,” Jisung glances back at you as he reaches for the up arrow on the elevator’s panel.

“Sweet.”

Minho is your gateway to an easy conversation. Of course, he’s not here, but you slightly wish he was. You’re forced to meander in an abrasive silence until the elevator takes you up to the eighth floor.

Eight, because Chan detests the idea of being too close to anyone. He doesn’t want his presence to divide anyone’s attempt at creating their best. An icon in distancing, Minho joked as during your first week under Bang!

Jisung sucks in a deep breath as he turns into a room whose door is partially cracked. “Here goes nothing.”

On the far side of the room is an L-shaped couch. Resting upon the vertical side as if he were in his own bed is Changbin. A laptop sits in his lap, closed, but his phone is inches away from his face as he types.

“It’d be more effective if you used that laptop,” Jisung comments, resting his drink on the coffee table and sitting by Changbin’s feet. Giving Changbin the perfect opportunity to wedge his foot between the younger’s ribcage. A cry of pain shoots out of Jisung’s mouth. Truly, he should have seen that coming.

“Dude!” he shouts, jumping to his feet and clutching his side.

“I told you not to mess with me,” Changbin’s eyes narrow into a warning gaze, but Jisung laughs anyway.

“You are not scary, bro.”

You start for the opposite end of the couch, pressing your back into the armrest as you watch the scene unfold. Cupping your drink with both hands, you’re unsure if the warmth stems from it or the sibling-esque fight before you.

Changbin slides the laptop off of his lap and pulls himself to his feet. He stands before Jisung, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. Then, as his eyes flutter open, he brings his fists up.

“Come on. Fight me.”

Jisung takes a step back. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Changbin shakes his head. “I’m not.”

Jisung’s eyes flit around the room for help. It would be that when the muscle man wants to fight, the only person physically capable of pacifying him isn’t here. Pure, unadulterated luck.

“And when you break my arm, then what?” Jisung’s eyebrows raise in taunting interrogation.

“Then I break your arm? What about it? You can perform with a shattered humerus. Right, ace?”

By chance of a higher being granting Han Jisung a break, Chan enters his office with a manila folder in his hand. Only a few steps into the room, he has to halt. His hand finds his hip, releasing a big sigh as he clutches the folder. To no surprise, he’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit. Black, of course. But with a surprising navy undershirt, which you give him credit for.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to cause injury in my office? Can you imagine the lawsuit? Would you do that to your beloved friend?” he asks a stream of questions.

He seems relatively happy.

Changbin drops his fists to his sides, gaze dropping back to his abandoned laptop. He scoops it up before reclaiming his spot. To fully conclude the argument, he opens the laptop’s lid. “Jisung started it.”

The accused boy looks at Chan and silently pleads his case. His hands clasp into a prayer.

Chan waves him off with a smile and a breathy laugh before starting for his desk. He acknowledges you with a small raise of his hand.

“Ah, where to begin?” he asks, to no one in particular, as he tosses the folder onto his desk and sinks into his chair.

“Han, can you turn the projector on?” Changbin takes the initiative, reaching over the couch’s back to grab a white USB cord.

He does as told, warily trying to avoid another pseudo-fight, before rushing to the light switch and fading the room into a mass of darkness. Chan must not like having his blinds open. Black world he lives in.

Changbin’s screen presents against the vacant wall across from him. A pre-written document appears, with the title ‘TT Ideas’ and a dashed list. 1.5 spacing, you admire.

“Okay, I did my homework,” he sighs, dragging his cursor over the highlighted ideas for the title track. “These are my personal favorites, but I’m up to debate.”

Jisung shivers at those words. Debate. Meaning: duel.

In the darkness, Chan steps in front of you. He sits halfway between you and Changbin, resting his elbows on his knees as he studies the list. You notice that his lips pout as he focuses, and his eyes squint a little.

You shift your own attention, for you’ll lose pacing if you stare at Chan the whole day. Changbin has highlighted unrequited love, turning the aura of summer into a song, unique abilities, and simply ‘flexing our equities’.

“Yeah, I definitely think that last one will go over well,” Jisung sardonically comments.

Changbin sighs in defeat and drags his cursor over his beloved idea, hitting the backspace in pity, “I knew you’d say that.”

“Can you elaborate on the unique abilities?” you ask, quieter than anticipated but still reaching its aim.

“Not to tute my own horn,” Changbin starts, running a hand through his hair, “but we’re sought after. When people see our names on tracklists, they immediately know the song is going to be good. They don’t sit and wonder if they’ll be disappointed, because they know with 3Racha that’s unpalatable. Hell, I saw someone tweet the other day that their favorite artist was spotted here, and the fandom went fucking crazy.

“People know what they expect from us, and that’s excellence. We deliver. You can’t say the same for a lot of producers. Doubt is inevitable for a lot of them, even if it’s only personal.”

“Couldn’t have said it better,” Jisung smirks, leaning his extended hand out to Changbin for him to high-five.

“What if we did it with an,” Chan hesitates, tilting his head at the screen to try and ease out the right words, “unnatural sound.”

“An experiment no one else could attempt,” you mumble, not expecting him to hear. His head snaps over to you, snapping, pointing a finger, and nodding.

“Exactly.”

The boys look between each other, bobbing their heads in agreement. “We can do that,” Jisung grins.

“You know, I had a feeling you would say that,” Changbin slips his phone out of his pocket, swiftly unlocking it and opening his notes app. “So I’ve already written my verse.”

“No way,” Jisung cocks his head at him.

“Okay,” Changbin mutters, “I had verses written for all the highlighted ones.”

“You are insane,” Chan chuckles, but not in an insulting tone.

From here on out, it’s smooth sailing.

Until Jisung pats the pockets of his jeans two weeks later. “Shit,” he mutters, glancing back at the elevator you had just come from.

Midnight was around the corner and Jisung had promised Minho they’d go see the late-night showing of the latest horror film.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He turns to you with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. “I think I left my phone in Chan’s room. I’m gonna be late. Minho’s gonna kill me.”

You cease his rambling by putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll go get it. Just tell Minho to text me when you’re done so you can pick it up. ‘Kay?”

So what if Loba’s waiting for you at home, probably pawing at the front door and meowing like, “I’m hungry”? You have a profound soft spot for Jisung. And not because Minho threatened you if you ever showed any disliking. Plus, Loba’s spoiled in all other walks of her life. She can handle you coming home a little later than usual for one night.

He breathes a sigh of relief, looking up at the high ceiling in some kind of grateful manner. “You are a lifesaver, Y/N.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you smile, starting back to the elevator as he continues his path.

The company is rather unsettling without its daytime bustle. It’s even worse on the eighth floor. A usual ghost-town, except with an increased darkness and an odd chill trailing down your back.

The hallways feel stuffy as you get close to Chan’s office, your gaze set ahead. A sniffling sound seeps into your range of hearing, though you don’t think much of it. You can get colds in summer.

Naive to think a man as esteemed as Mr. Bang would succumb to a measly cold.

As you sneak your head between the cracked door, placing your hand around its width and slightly pushing forward, the view sends your heart crashing into your stomach. Chan’s head is lowered, either hand cupping his head as incessant tears drip from his nose.

Awkwardly stepping forward, you clear your throat.

His glossy eyes, rimmed with red and slightly puffy, jump up to you. Instinctively, he attempts to discard the evidence.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he croaks, pulling his sleeve over his hand and gliding it across his damp cheek.

That’s something he could learn. If someone’s a witness, you can expect them to ease into questions. It’s only nature.

“Do you need a hug?” you attempt. Don’t be forward, don’t be blunt, don’t be mean. Minho’s reminder blinks across your vision.

He laughs, “Maybe.”

A pitiful smile creeps onto your lips as you step around the desk. Your arms link semi-awkwardly around his shoulders. He presses his cheek against your collarbone, silently crying a little. You take careful breaths, trying to stabilize your chest for him.

“Does anyone know?” Your hand rubs soft circles against his back. He shakes his head against your body. A small hiccup shakes his frame.

“You can tell me if you want.”

“I don’t want to burden you,” he manages through his tears.

You pull back a little for him to look at you. “I will smack sense into you if you say some stupid shit like that again.” In spite of his eyes crinkling into a smile—looking at you like you’re a childhood friend who he knows like the back of his hand—you try to recover. “I swear, you won’t burden me.”

He takes in a shaky breath. A blaring thought curses the forefront of your eyes. “Do you mind if we go to my apartment, though? I have a hungry cat waiting for me.”

Your arms retreat to your sides as he nods and drags the back of his hand across either cheek. “Yeah, no problem.”

You glance over at the couch, and the object of your mission stares back at you. For a second, you swear it’s glowing gold and screaming, “Your quest ends here! Bring me to my owner!”

You shuffle for the couch and scoop it up. When Chan looks at your hand in confusion, you offer, “Jisung left it. I’m the delivery service.”

“Right.” And he smiles. Comfort engulfs your body when you notice the flood has stopped.

Since you normally walk or ride the bus to work, Chan drives. His shiny sports car looks rather alien beside your used, well-used, car.

“I should warn you,” you turn to him as you push your key into the lock, “Loba’s a cuddler.”

“Sweet. I’d feel bad asking you for more hugs,” he jokes.

Sure enough, Loba is lying before the door. She scrambles to her feet and stares up at her guardian and the new intruder. Conveniently misplacing her cries for food, she scopes out the new man.

“What’d you say her name was again?” Chan asks, squatting in front of her and scratching behind her ears.

“Loba,” you say, opening the fridge to dish out Loba’s expensive special food. Adopting a cat with stomach issues, am I right?

“Loba?” Chan repeats, stifling a laugh.

“I didn’t name her,” you turn to him in defense.

Chan lowers himself, crossing his legs as Loba climbs into his lap. The love-hungry cat doesn’t even notice when you set her ceramic bowl next to her water station. She’s too absorbed in her newfound friend.

Rather than forcing them to relocate to the couch, you sit offset from them on the tile. Smiling down at the orange cat, you admit, “She’s not even like this with Minho.”

“Really?” Chan’s amused face stuns a vibration in your chest.

You appeal confirmation.

“That’s crazy. I’m a dog person, normally,” he coos down at the lovebug.

Don’t let this distract you from the task at hand, you remind yourself.

“So,” you drag. How do you say this without tempting the tears again? Admittedly, it would be nice if you had an ounce of insight. You’re walking into a minefield without a blueprint of where they lie.

Chan sighs, acknowledging his cue. “My dad doesn’t really like me all too much,” he wryly laughs.

“He seems stupid then,” you offer, not thinking further than trying to comfort him, “You’re very likable.”

“Thank you,” Chan drags his tongue against his bottom lip.

He continues, “Moreso, he dislikes his father. The one who skipped a generation when trying to continue his legacy. By association, I kind of take the brunt of it.” He looks at you through blurry eyes as he bites the inside of his cheek.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you were the only person who could have continued the company. Your dad seems,” you hesitate, “insolent. You, on the other hand, are an ace.”

“I try to tell myself that. He makes me go to all of his business parties to keep his reputation up, as well as mine in a way. You don’t want the broken family running a huge corporation,” he mimics what he’s been told.

“So you can’t tune him out,” you echo.

“Yep,” he drags the word out, prompting a heavy sigh.

“I’m not really good at the whole comforting thing,” you study the creases of your palms. “But I’ll say that you are, by far, the most amazing person I could work for. You’re really admirable. Plus, Minho really likes you. You’re kind of like the brother he never had.”

“God, you’re gonna make me cry,” he laughs, staring up at the light as he pulls a hand away from Loba to wipe at his waterline.

“I’m serious,” you chuckle. “Would I blow smoke up your ass if you’re crying on my floor with my cat in your arms?”

When he hesitates to respond, you do it for him. “The answer is no. I don’t even do that for Minho.”

“That’s comforting,” he admits.

“I’d hope so. Now, hand me your phone,” you stick your hand out.

“Why?”

“So I can give you my number. Text me if stuff goes downhill, now that I’m in the loop.”

He looks at you quizzically.

“What? Do you think I’m going to let you suffer in silence now that I know?”

He leans to the side, cradling Loba protectively, as he draws his phone from his pocket. Unlocking it before he hands it to you.

As you type in a new contact, you say, “Do you want something to eat? I can order a pizza.”

vi.

Unfortunately, peace is temporary. Always and forever.

When you enter Chan’s office a few weeks after the father debacle, prepared to start the official recording of the album as decided on the previous day, you’re met with two confused men. Admittedly, you’re a little late, but not enough for them to be lost.

Changbin looks up at you as you cross the threshold. “Have you seen Chan?”

You shake your head.

“Heard from him?” Jisung follows.

Again, you shake your head.

“Shit,” they both fall back against the couch cushions in defeat.

“What’s wrong?” The grip on your bag tightens. Despite your inquisitive words, your gut gives you a fair answer.

“We haven’t heard from him since five this morning,” Changbin looks at Jisung for confirmation on the details.

“No one’s seen him?” you follow up.

“No one. He won’t answer our group chat either.”

Your foot taps against the floor as you try to remain composed. He texted you last night about his dad’s upcoming gala but was sparse about details. Or about the fact he would straight up disappear. Obviously, you can’t offer this information to them. A promise is a promise, even if half unspoken.

“Should we work through it? Get his parts whenever he decides to show up?” Changbin speaks.

“We can’t exactly meander anymore. Tracklist goes out at noon,” Jisung shakes his phone as annoyingly clear evidence.

“And you still need to learn the choreo for the title track,” you add. There’s only a month left. You bite your tongue, allowing the pain to slightly calm you down.

“God, what horrible timing,” Jisung laughs, but no joy laces through his tone.

You point harsh eyes at them, heavy steps leading you to the microphone stand designated for recording. “Come on then. Let’s get ahead before we can fall behind.”

vii.

You leave work the moment recording is done for the day, a discovery pulling you from focusing on anything else. Chan shared his location with you a few days ago when he offered a reciprocal to what you’ve done for him. “So you can always find me,” he said via text.

Though not for the right purpose, per se, you’re going to find him. And when you do, you might have to smack sense into him this time. With love, you convince yourself as you pull up to the stadium.

Who in their right mind rents an indoor stadium for an evening party? Rich people, evidently.

You find Chan’s car, among its shiny counterparts, and park as close to it as you can. As you get out, you pull your phone out of your pocket and call him. Not expecting him to answer, honestly.

“Hello?” his voice penetrates your ears.

“I’m outside,” you say, fighting the heavy heartbeat echoing in your head. Your hands tremble at the thought of him here, all dressed up and acting like nothing’s wrong.

“What?” he mumbles.

You look up to the big screen above the gate. “Gangnam Public Stadium, right?”

The background noise slightly fades as he says, “Wait where you are, I’ll come meet you.”

“Parking lot,” you offer before he hangs up.

You step into the shade and lean against a brick wall.

Today’s one of the finer days of summer. It’s mid-June. The solstice is just around the corner. A light breeze brushes against your skin and gently ruffles your hair. It probably helps that you’re surrounded by wealthy cars. A mood booster, in a weird way.

Quick, heavy steps draw closer. You turn your head to the source.

Chan drops his hands onto his knees as he pants. “You shouldn’t be here,” he manages.

“You should’ve told someone why you wouldn’t be at work. We all have our regrets,” you nibble on the inside of your cheek as you stare at him.

“God,” he mutters, straightening himself before standing next to you against the wall.

“You’ll get your suit dirty,” you comment, but he doesn’t care.

“You should leave.” His eyes, heavy with an emotion akin to irritation and sadness, scan over your face.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me why you did this,” you stand your ground. Just like Minho would hate in a moment like this. “To get to a person, you have to ease them into it,” he guided at one point. Frankly, you couldn’t care less right now.

He avoids your eyes as he tries to flatten his staggered breathing. In due time, he composes himself and finally looks at you. His features have loosened, and you note his brow is no longer creased.

“I didn’t want to lose my cool in front of them,” he admits.

“Scared to?”

He nods. “It was scary enough having one person see me cry.”

The place between your heart and ribs begins to pulsate heat.It begins to spread across your bones and through your muscles. For once, you have to think about what to say next. You can’t be mad at him, for his reasoning makes more sense than it had before. God, this is irritating.

“Let’s make the song of the summer, then,” you reassure him with a curt nod. “Pull you out of this monster field around you and let’s make history.”

The dark surrounding encasing him cracks away as an unbelievable smile finds its place. One like you have never seen. One that pierces your heart with its joy. “Let’s do it.” And he drags you into a hug. Despite the roles taking a quick turn, you feel comforted. But he’s squeezing the life out of you.

viii.

You’ve done all you can do for 3Racha within the next week. The album is complete, as far as instrumentals and lyrics. All that’s left is promotion, along with all the theatrical elements left to be discussed. But that’s separate from you.

It feels bittersweet that it’s come to an end. You know that sometime in the future you’ll return to the studio with them, working alongside creative geniuses to invent a piece. Together. That’s the key. But it feels so far away.

You sit in your empty office, staring at the broad window as raindrops fall down the glass. Recounting the process in your head with distant gratitude. Title track: God’s Menu. You’re proud of it, viewing it as your child. Watching it grow into a real song, with real words and sounds attached to it. Wow. You catch a glimpse at the meaning of life as you watch two raindrops race down. It’s this: blossoming art from a tiny idea. Admittedly not entirely your own, but the principle remains.

The other tracks enlist an equal amount of precious memories for you. Late nights felt normal with the unreal energy coursing through your veins. You notice the products of effort as you consider all those extra hours. Admiration shoots through your body, leaving it numb.

It was all them, though, you acknowledge. You were only there as a caretaker, offering your own hint to mark the music.

3Racha is like a shooting star. It's fantastic, in a sense. Not everyone can say they’ve seen a shooting star in the same way not many can say they’ve witnessed the production process with three of the most talented producers in the game. They’re unreal.

A knock against your doorframe shocks you out of your thoughts. You drag your foot against the floor to turn your chair.

Chan, dressed in an outfit similar to that of boys’ night, awaits your attention. Sweat lines his forehead, glistening his skin. You can guess where he’s been.

“Hey.”

“I need your help.” His words were trailing your simple greeting so close you could say he interrupted you. Seriousness brings his face into a dimness, slightly intimidating you.

“With?” you prompt.

He leans against the frame with his arm, replaying his words in his head over and over before spitting them out, “I kind of told my dad I’d bring a date to his next party.”

“Oh?” you say, slowly realizing. “Oh.”

“Will you do it?” His features twist into a nervous reflection.

“Sure, if you pay for my outfit.”

You say this as a joke, but he fails to convey it this way. “Deal. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Does Loba need a cat tree by any chance?”

He doesn’t await your answer as he slips back into the hall. Was that conversation even real?

An indistinguishable whiplash conquers your body into a sudden realization. You turn to your desk, scooping your phone into your hands and texting Minho, beginning with, “When you see this…”

ix.

Certainly, Chan is a man of his word. From the mere month you’ve known him, you should have gathered this. But as you stand in his living room, decked out in some outfit he carefully chose for you, it blares against all of your senses in bright, evident clarity.

Minho’s message buzzes against your palm.

Lee Knows: Loba’s conked already, two minutes after she ate. Have fun ;)

You: Lol thanks again for taking care of her.

Lee Knows: Of course. Anything for my bestest friend in the world. Now, a night of yearning!

The only way to describe this feeling rooted in the base of your stomach are the words: raw emotion. It’s a cluster. Jitters mixed with a blend of uncertainty and a weird elation? To be fair, you are about to lie your way through expensive drinks and hors d’oeuvres. What even are those?

Regardless, one thing is certain. Minho was right. It’s...discouraging to admit. Frankly, you’d ignore it for as long as possible if you could. But adoration is difficult. In your face. Forward, some would refer to it as.

God, this is all Minho’s fault.

“Ready?” Chan’s shoes click against the hardwood as he departs from his dark hole of a room. He looks stunning, though his attire isn’t much different from his office wear. A small sign of rebellion appears in his appearance, which ignites a flame in your chest.

Chan brings a hand to where your eyes are burning a whole into—his hair. The curls are there, less accentuated than bro night, but evident. “Ah, I didn’t really want to straighten it. I’ve already had fried hair one too many times in my life.”

“It looks nice,” you smile. Your throat tightens as you swallow. “You look nice.”

“Same for you,” he allows a prolonged scan of you. Sheepishly, you do one of those cheesy twirls you always see in the romance movies before Prom night or whatever expensive evening the protagonists are attending. Sincerely, with all the love rampaging through your chest, you’re going to kill Minho for cursing your life like this.

He snaps out of his trance, starting for the door. “We should get going.”

Aside from the quiet hum of the radio, the ride to the venue is silent. It wouldn’t be complete without hitting every redlight, either. Jisung’s luck must have rubbed off on you when you had that group hug.

You sit at one now, red gleaming against your face as you stare out at the sidewalk vacant of pedestrians. No one’s even at any of the other lights.

“You okay?” Chan asks.

“Yeah,” you turn back to him.

“Good,” he nods, instantly averting your eyes.

Perhaps you should have found a way to decline. Even Loba would have been a better date option. At least she has chemistry with him.

To no one’s surprise, the venue is huge. Potentially larger than the stadium. From ceiling to the carpeted floor, decorated properly with the black tie theme.

Chan reluctantly grabs your hand before you tackle the crowd. If you were cold, the warmth radiating against your palm is sufficient for heating the rest of your body. Unluckily, though, you aren’t cold. Your hand feels clammy in his. If he wasn’t attracted to you before, he certainly isn’t now.

You stare at your shoes as you follow.

“Just a heads up about my dad,” he glances over his shoulder to make sure you’re still there, despite the tether between you, “he most definitely thinks we’re dating, so be prepared for questions.”

“Oh great,” you mumble. How do you cure a lovesick heart? What an ambiguous question offering up to a plethora of potential answers. One incorrect answer, though: acting out romance. In real time, too.

“Sorry, I probably should have told you sooner. Kind of slipped my mind,” he squeezes your hand in apology.

Even when you break out into a free space, his hand doesn’t pull from yours. Instead, he slightly tightens the hold as he approaches an older man. Without any prior knowledge (ie. not Googling his dad after he cried on your kitchen floor over the bastard), you could guess this is his dad. They practically have the same face. Striking differences, however, given some context.

“Hey,” the man grins, eyes shifting curiously between you and his son.

You dip your head in respect. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Bang.”

His hand claps your shoulder as you look up. “You don’t have to be so formal with me.” Silence hangs onto the end of his sentence as he glances at Chan for help.

“Y/N,” Chan offers. Your name sounds pretty coming from him.

“Y/N,” his father repeats. You want to sock him for saying your name.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Would have been nicer if Chan had given a little notice,” he laughs for you, alternatively offering a subtle, but not unnoticeable, glare to Chan.

Reflexively, your unoccupied hand clenches until you feel your nails pressing sharply into your skin. Discreetly, you nudge Chan’s arm with your elbow as a sign that you’re here. Slightly, his hand loosens in yours as his nerves slowly ease.

“Sorry, it’s kind of recent,” Chan laughs. His eyes crinkle into a faux delight.

“Of course,” his father nods. “Haven’t seen any articles about it yet, which is good. You might not want this being exposed to the GP.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” Chan manages through gritted teeth, albeit hidden in a way only you could notice.

Then, as if the attack didn’t have a cooldown, he reaches up and tugs at one of Chan’s curls. “Your hair looks...interesting.”

It’s really difficult trying to remain neutral in the face of backhanded advice and compliments. Especially in front of this man, who shouldn’t even be given a title as esteemed as that. He’s scum stuck to the back of your old, rusty car that won’t go away in spite of however many power washes.

“Mr. Bang,” a waiter appears behind him, stealing his attention long enough for you to drag Chan in the opposite direction. He’ll find his way into a business conversation soon anyway. With no recollection of what he said to his son whatsoever. Considering his words will always stick with Chan, your face heats up.

You ignore Chan’s repelling tug, and his words that go in one ear and out the other. A hidden area near the bar is the only place where he has enough courage to stop you. But only because you let it happen.

“If we stayed there much longer, I would have caught an assault charge,” you huff.

“You handled it well, though,” he admits, “Even if you were about to break my hand.”

In the face of anger personified, he manages to smile and crack a laugh.

“Sorry,” you mumble, finally pulling your hand away from his.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asks, glancing back at the bartender serving an established looking woman a margarita. Likely strawberry from its tint.

You shake your head, “I’m good. Thank you.”

“Well, then, I’ll be back,” he reaches out to rub your shoulder before slipping back into the crowd. You’re jealous of the effect he has to just become invisible.

You pull your phone from its hidden spot and open Minho’s awaiting text.

Lee Knows: Has he made a move yet?

You: Why would he?

Lee Knows: Idk you’re kind of obvious.

Before you can answer, an incoming notification from Seungmin pops up.

Seungmo: Is it true that you like Chan?

Minho. Lee Minho. You grimace.

You: No comment.

Seungmo: Sweet. Jeongin owes me twenty bucks. But ew. Who would romantically like Chan?

The text really ties together with the barfing emoji.

“Who’s that?” the subject of both text logs peeks his head over your phone.

You snatch it back, instinctively turning it off. “Seungmin.”

“I didn’t know you were friends with him,” Chan observes, placing the black straw between his lips. His drink is also tinted pink, but not in a margarita glass.

“Minho built the bridge during bro night. Now we plot behind his back,” you joke, promptly making Chan choke. He coughs, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he sputters.

“Don’t do that when I’m drinking!” he laughs.

Your chest heaves as you try to stifle the laugh building up in your chest.

“Oh come on, you’re even gonna have the nerve to laugh at me?” he tips his head to look at your quivering frame. He finds this funny, but he can’t just not tease you. That’s not in the rule book.

“I’m not laughing,” you try to convince him, lips pressed into a fine line as quick breaths leave your nose.

“Right,” he rolls his eyes.

If he were being honest with you, he was doing this as a ploy to take your mind off of his dad. Honesty isn’t one of his finer points, though. So he stays quiet.

“Do you want a sip?” he offers the fruity looking drink to you.

“What is it?” you ask, but accepting the glass anyway.

“Just a strawberry mimosa.”

Again, if he were honest, he’d tell you he only got it to share with you. It was a shot in the dark, neutral enough. But, again, not one of his stronger urges. Minho would refer to this as him ‘making a move’, unbeknownst to you.

You take a quick sip. Humming in approval, you hand it back to him. “It’s good, I can barely even taste the alcohol.”

He fixes his hair absentmindedly as a passing conversation arises. Subject: Minho. Goal: offering both parties ammunition for his next offhand comment or prank.

“Did you know that Minho talks in his sleep?” you laugh.

Chan pulls at a curl, pulling it straight. “He seems like the type.”

You reach up and flick his wrist.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Stop thinking about what your dad said,” you scold. The nerves in your stomach dissipate as your hand ruffles his hair, fluffing it out. He looks more relaxed as you pull away.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

“Don’t apologize, or I’ll punch you next time.”

“I can see why you and Minho get along so well.”

xi.

By the time you’re set free from the hell of socializing with all of Chan’s dad’s friends who last saw him when he was ‘this high’, the effects of the single mimosa wear off. Luckily for Chan, you drank most of it, so he’s set to drive.

“My feet hurt,” you complain. Maybe it would have been smart to break in the fancy shoes Chan invested for you before the event.

“Do you want me to carry you?” Chan asks, turning to you.

Against all voices inside of you screaming to decline, your pain receptors answer for you. “That’d be great, since you're offering.”

He bends his knees slightly and holds his arms slightly out. When you jump onto his back, he doesn’t even react.

“Do you religiously workout or something?” you joke, though true curiosity shines through your words. You’re pretty obvious.

“Duh. Every breathing moment I’m not working or crying over my dad. It’s a stress reliever.” Your arms, hanging from his neck, feel each vibration in his chest as he laughs.

As he readjusts his hands beneath your thighs, maintaining a steady hold of your body against his, your body grows warm and you can envision your cheeks glowing red. Minho was so right. And the field day he’s going to have with the upcoming weeks until the joke grows stale. You shiver at the thought.

“Are you cold?” Chan asks.

“Oh, no, I was just thinking about Minho.”

“Scary,” Chan mimics his own shiver at the mention.

You press your cheek against his shoulder, his steady steps drawing your eyes shut.

The silence you find is unparalleled to the one in the car earlier. This one is comfortable, homely even. So much so that you feel yourself fall asleep.

xii.

When you get to his apartment, he nudges your shoulder.

Your eyes slowly open, fighting against the dull light from the roof of his car.

“You can spend the night at my house. I’m not confident in pulling a sleeping body out of a car. Putting you in was hard enough,” he chuckles.

You manage a smile and hazily push the passenger door open. From the rest, your feet should be fine walking to the elevator (since there’s one less body than bro night, you’ll fit) and to his apartment. Still, he wraps his arm around your shoulders to steady you all the way up to his front door.

“I’ll grab you some clothes,” he says as you fall onto his couch. You didn’t acknowledge how comfortable it was just from sitting on it. Honestly, it feels like a normal mattress.

He returns from his room quickly with a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. Both black, as you could have guessed.

You walk to the bathroom and sleepily tug your fancy outfit off, careful not to ruin it. As you pull his shirt over your head, a rush of his cologne hugs you. You fight off the ‘I could get used to this’ comment that floats through your head.

You don’t remember walking back to the couch. But you remember Chan pulling a blanket up to your chin.

xiii.

Chan pokes your cheek, drawing you away from your precious dream of living in a cottage on the seafront—conveniently with him. You whine, pulling the blanket over your head in an attempt to ward him away. Dream Chan is waiting for you.

“Y/N, come on. You can’t sleep on my couch all day.” The worst part is: you can hear the faux pout in his voice. And potentially worse: you definitely could sleep on this couch all day if your life depended on it. Even if it didn’t, to be honest.

“Go away,” you grumble.

He sighs. His presence beside you disappears for a few moments, long enough for sleep to momentarily return. The bubble of peace pops eventually.

“Hey, Minho,” his voice returns, slightly muffled by the distance and the cloth pressed against your ear.

This is enough to spring liveliness into your bones. You sit up, hateful eyes shooting in the direction of the voice. When you see him laughing, his dark phone pressed against his ear, you reel. “One of these days, I’m gonna leave your company and then your stocks are gonna plummet,” you groan.

“Is that the best insult you can come up with?” he counters, dropping his hoisted arm to his side.

“I have more, but they're still closed off. You know, since you’ve rudely interrupted my sleep.”

“I’m sorry. Not really, though. It’s like noon.”

“And?”

“I can’t leave you here alone,” he laughs.

“What, do you have a date to attend?”

Awaiting his response, you reach for your phone on the coffee table. Two missed calls. A few Snapchats from Seungmin, likely pictures of his new puppy, but no matter.

“I wish. I have to meet up with Jisung. Pressing news he has to tell me, too confidential to be told over text.”

“He’s gonna confess,” you shoot him a look.

“Yes, because Han Jisung would be in love with me,” he starts for the kitchen. An extended arm pulls at the fridge, and he pulls two waters out.

“To be fair, if I were Jisung, I’d probably be in love with you,” you say, obviously without much thought behind it.

Okay. In your defense, you were a little too focused on reading Minho’s latest string of confusing messages. Trying to decipher the code, Chan’s response passes right through you like a ghost.

Lee Knows: Y/N you won’t believe this.

Lee Knows: Loba’s gonna be so happy.

Lee Knows: I know you’re probably cuddled up with Chan or whatever but call me ASAP.

Chan lowers himself beside you, tossing the cold water in your lap. He peeks over your shoulder. “Huh. That’s pretty much what Jisung said to me.”

“Why are you invading my privacy?” you glare at him, considering elbowing him precisely between the ribs. Ultimately deciding against it, of course. Through tense internal conflict.

“Really? You’re sitting on my couch, in my clothes, refusing to leave, and you wanna talk about privacy?”

Just because he has a point doesn’t mean he should voice it. Plus, he offered the clothes. And the couch for you to sleep on. It really just seems like a self jab to you.

“Should I call him?” Your finger glides across your bottom lip as you look at him for an answer.

“Sure, why not?” he throws his hands up in defeat. “Let’s see what Jisung and Minho have conspired this time.”

The ring echoing sparks a nervous pit in your stomach. You pick at the sticker of the water bottle. It feels like forever by the time he answers.

“Morning, sunshine,” Minho’s sweet voice reeks of sarcasm.

“You’re on speaker, by the way,” you close your eyes to avoid looking at Chan’s burning eyes.

“Oh perfect, you are too,” Jisung joins in, a dry laugh escaping his throat.

“We have some questions,” Minho begins, but fails to continue.

“Such as?” Chan prompts.

“Are you guys dating yet?” Jisung bluntly jumps to the case.

Your heart rams against your chest. That ‘yet’ tugs at your insides.

“Uh, no,” you draw out.

“The media sure thinks otherwise,” Minho jabs.

Chan’s already searching for the articles by the time you can react.

“Fuck.” He throws his head back against the couch in frustration, tilting his phone towards you so you can see.

CEO Bang Chan Lands a Date Weeks Before Comeback.

Bang Caught With Employee?

Bang Chan, CEO, Makes a Striking Appearance at Dad’s Gala.

“What? Did you really think there wouldn’t be journalists there? Come on Chan, do better.” You never knew Jisung had this cutting edge to him. If the words were aimed at you, you know you’d break down. It’s a miracle that Chan is this composed.

“Can you calm down? My god,” you say without realizing. “It’s not like we can’t fix this.” How, though, you ponder?

“If it makes you feel any better,” Minho reluctantly says, like this sentence could put his life on the line, “you looked cute.”

“Thanks,” you mutter. In any other circumstance, you’d be quick to mock him. Well. At least he’s not outwardly making fun of you. Another one of Minho’s late night insights seeping into your thoughts: see the positive.

A text notification drops down against your screen. Despite having the luxury of using his voice, it’s Minho.

Lee Knows: Would now be a bad time to out you?

You: Horribly.

“Well,” Jisung draws in a sharp breath.

“Good luck,” Minho finishes for him.

After he hangs up, promptly after letting you know he fed Loba this morning, you pick up the water bottle and place it against your cheek. The shocking chill redirects your nerves momentarily.

You try not to look at Chan, but you know he’s looking at you.

After a moment to catch your breath, he sighs, “I have an idea.”

It takes an effort to pull your attention to him. A war against yourself.

“Play along with me for a second,” he says, pulling his leg beneath him as he repositions himself beside you. Fully facing you, taking in your entire being—which doesn’t help your burning skin. You’d give anything to be invisible right now.

“What if,” he starts, “we go along with it?”

You laugh in his face. “Are you sure that wouldn’t blow up even worse? Imagine people finding out we faked it. That wouldn’t be good for you.”

He messes with his fingers, suddenly finding an intense interest in the linework of them. He rubs his thumb against the crease of his ring finger. “I don’t think anyone would have to find out it’s fake, per se.”

“How are you so confident?” You look at him in awe. Even when he’s spewing absolute nonsense and under pressure, he looks like a god. Calm as ever. It’s horrifying for your heart. And for common sense, but that’s not as important right now.

“I don’t think Minho would lie to me.”

“What does Minho have to do with this?”

His dimple shows itself as a measly smile crosses his lips. “He may have told me.”

Regardless of what he may have spilled, you know instantly. “You’re kidding me,” you huff. What was the point of his dramatic message, then? A distraction, maybe.

“I mean it’s okay. It’s not like it’s not reciprocated or anything.”

“You are unbelievable,” you shake your head. “How did you know and not say a single thing?”

His hands shoot up in defense. “To be fair, I didn’t find out until after you fell asleep last night. For the second time. He texted me with this whole ‘I know something you don’t’ facade. I wasn’t going to act on it until I had a stupidly romantic plan, but then this happened,” he gestures around the room, as if it’s the decor’s fault. He’s quick to add, “And I couldn’t do that as soon as they said anything about the articles. That’d kinda ruin the mood, don’t you think?”

So Chan’s probably not good with looking amazing under pressure—he very well could be, but you wouldn’t know that right now. Which slightly irritates you, but no matter.

“Well,” you sigh. “I guess that solves the problem.”

He nods, looking at you solemnly.

“Your dad’s gonna be pissed, though,” you comment, and he laughs.

“I know.”

Funny. As soon as the problem jumped at you, the imminent solution scared you just as fast. Your head hurts from the whiplash. That must be a pattern with him.

“You know what’s kinda perfect about this?” he says after a moment.

“Tell me.”

“We can write love songs together now. Isn’t that cool?” The sheer joy in his face shatters any aggravation left in your veins. A smile creeps up on you.

“You’re such a nerd.”

“And you’re madly in love with a nerd so I don’t see what your point is.”

You pull the pillow out from behind your back and chuck it at his head.

“Oh so you’re trying to kill your beloved love interest? Real classy, Y/N.”

“Please just shut up and kiss me already,” you lean over halfway and wait for him to meet you.

Kissing a major CEO doesn’t feel much different than kissing a normal person, but there’s a striking flare of passion to it. Maybe that’s a personal thing.

His lips fit against yours in a way that makes your soul instantly tethered to him. You hope he can’t feel your heartbeat against your lips, for it’s pulsing rather loud and antsy for you.

Chan radiates warmth in every piece of his body, extending all the way to his aura. If it wasn’t for your pesky lungs running out of air, you’d never pull away.

xiv.

In spite of his idea for a romantic confession going down the drain as soon as he decided to think one up, he makes up for it with incessant gestures. Bringing you snacks when he should be in meetings. Buying you sweets when you get stressed. Purchasing Loba a huge cat tree, even though she doesn’t need to be spoiled further. Spending the night at your house even when his is way more comfortable for the sheer reason that Loba would feel lonely.When you mention taking her with you, he’d say, “I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable with the new environment.”

He even postponed bro night because you got sick and wanted to be the one to take care of you.

You don’t need reminders that he loves you, but it’s all the while heartwarming when he says it.

Even now, with his arm wrapped around your waist and his chin propped on your shoulder, he’s thinking aloud in romance land. “What if we went on a vacation to France for Christmas? Isn’t Paris the city of love?”

You watch the TV, but his voice drowns out all of the dialogue. “I don’t know, Chan. Why can’t we stay here?” you shift in his arms to roll over and face him. This close, as you’ve grown accustomed to these past months, you can count all of his eyelashes. And you can see tiny freckles scattered across his cheeks. It must be an Aussie thing.

He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. “We can stay here. I’m fine with that.”

Loba jumps onto the bed, her collar jingling with her sudden movement to warn you she’s arrived. You pull away from Chan a little to make room for her between you. “Here comes the princess,” you feign disappointment with a sigh.

She claims her spot between your chests and curls herself into a ball, burying her face in Chan’s chest. Per usual. She often forgets who feeds her around here.

“Anyway,” Chan leans over her, kissing your lips gently, “I’m okay wherever. As long as you’re with me.”

After a beat of silence, you cup his cheek delicately and say, “Let’s go to the moon.”

“Yeah,” he grins, “Let’s go to the moon.”

xv.

He leans over and presses a kiss to your temple, setting a bottle of water in front of you.

Jisung gags from across the room. “Get a room,” he complains.

“You are a grown man and you can’t handle a couple being affectionate?” Changbin criticizes. “Get a life, dude.”

“Yeah,” you chime in, “Just ‘cos you live a poor, single life doesn’t mean you can hate on us.”

“Jeez, I didn’t sign up for slander on this Monday morning.”

“You definitely asked for it, but let’s get to work.” Chan draws his phone from his pocket and prepares for the official meeting regarding 3Racha’s next comeback.

God’s Menu was well received from the public, sending Chan’s dating scandal into the shadows. Minho basked in the compliments on the choreography. Seungmin whined when no one on Twitter noticed he was the vocal coach—and Minho didn’t make it much better by rubbing his glory in Seungmin’s face every chance he got. And you couldn’t get Chan to stop showing you funny Tweets and praise for nearly a month. Likely longer.

Here you sit in Chan’s office at the beginning of the new year. A lot of things can go south during six months, but things can shoot north too. Generally, for you, it’s been pretty north.

This time around, Jisung has calculated his homework and broadcasts his thoughts onto the wall.

“I already know what you’re gonna choose for the title track, so let’s choose B-sides,” he adds the disclaimer before anyone can mutter a peep.

“I don’t know about you all,” Chan dips his hands into the pockets of his trousers and leans against his desk, “but I’d say I’m pretty confident in writing a love song right now.”

You groan alongside Jisung. “Stop talking.”

Here we go on the hunt for the song of the new year. Conquer the competition before anyone has a chance. Like you did in creating the song of the summer.

#skz au #skz imagine #skz chan #skz #stray kids chan #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #chan x reader #chan au #bang chan x reader #stray kids au #stray kids scenario #bang chan #skz bang chan #chan oneshots #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshot

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mostlymovieswithmax · 3 years

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Movies I watched in May

Sadly, I kind of skipped writing a post for April. It was a mad month with so much going on: lots of emails sent and lots of stress. I started a new job so I’m getting to grips with that... and even then, I still watched a bunch of movies. But this is about what I watched in May and, yeah… still a bunch. So if you’re looking to get into some other movies - possibly some you’ve thought about watching but didn’t know what they were like, or maybe like the look of something you’ve never heard of - then this may help! So here’s every film I watched from the 1st to the 31st of May 2021 Tenet (2020) - 8/10 This was my third time watching Christopher Nolan’s most Christopher Nolan movie ever and it makes no sense but I still love it. The spectacle of it all is truly like nothing I’ve ever seen. I had also watched it four days prior to this watch also, only this time I had enabled audio description for the visually impaired, thinking it would make it funny… It didn’t.

Nomadland (2020) - 6/10 Chloé Zhao’s new movie got a lot of awards attention. Everyone was hyped for this and when it got put out on Disney+ I was eager to see what all the fuss was about. Seeing these real nomads certainly gave the film an authenticity, along with McDormand’s ever-praisable acting. But generally I found it quite underwhelming and lacking a lot in its pacing. Nomadland surely has its moments of captivating cinematography and enticing commentary on the culture of these people, but it felt like it went on forever without any kind of forward direction or goal. The Prince of Egypt (1998) - 6/10 I reviewed this on my podcast, The Sunday Movie Marathon. For what it is, it’s pretty fun but nowhere near as good as some of the best DreamWorks movies.

Chinatown (1974) - 8/10 What a fantastic and wonderfully unpredictable mystery crime film! I regret to say I’ve not seen many Jack Nicholson performances but he steals the show. Despite Polanski’s infamy, it’d be a lie to claim this wasn’t truly masterful. Howl’s Moving Castle (2004) - 8/10 Admittedly I was half asleep as I curled up on the sofa to watch this again on a whim. I watched this with someone who demanded the dubbed version over the subtitled version and while I objected heavily, I knew I’d seen the movie before so it didn’t matter too much. That person also fell asleep about 20 minutes in, so how pointless an argument it was. Howl’s Moving Castle boasts superb animation, the likes of which I’ve only come to expect of Miyazaki. The story is so unique and the colours are absolutely gorgeous. This may not be my favourite from the legendary director but there’s no denying its splendour.

Bāhubali: The Beginning (2015) - 3/10 The next morning I watched some absolute trash. This crazy, over the top Indian movie is hilarious and I could perhaps recommend it if it weren’t so long. That being said, Bāhubali was not a dumpster fire; it has a lot of good-looking visual effects and it’s easy to see the ambition for this epic story, it just doesn’t come together. There’s fun to be had with how the main character is basically the strongest man in the world and yet still comes across as just a lucky dumbass, along with all the dancing that makes no sense but is still entertaining to watch. Seven Samurai (1954) - 10/10 If it wasn’t obvious already, Seven Samurai is a masterpiece. I reviewed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, so more thoughts can be found there. Red Road (2006) - 6/10 Another recommendation on episode 30 of the podcast. Red Road really captures the authentic British working class experience. Before Sunrise (1995) - 10/10 One of the best romances put to film. The first in Richard Linklater’s Before Trilogy is undoubtedly my favourite, despite its counterparts being almost equally as good. It tells the story of a young couple travelling through Europe, who happen to meet on a train and spend the day together. It is gloriously shot on location in Vienna and features some of the most interesting dialogue I’ve ever seen put to film. Heartbreakingly beautiful.

Tokyo Story (1953) - 9/10 This Japanese classic - along with being visually and sonically masterful - is a lot about appreciating the people in your life and taking the time to show them that you love them. It’s about knowing it’s never too late to rekindle old relationships if you truly want to, which is something I’ve been able to relate to in recent years. It broke my heart in two. Tokyo Story will make you want to call your mother. Before Sunset (2004) - 10/10 Almost a decade after Sunrise, Sunset carries a sombre yet relieving feeling. Again, the performances from Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke take me away, evoking nostalgic feelings as they stroll through the contemporary Parisian streets. There is no regret in me for buying the Criterion blu-ray boxset for this trilogy. Before Midnight (2013) - 10/10 Here, Linklater cements this trilogy as one of the best in film history. It’s certainly not the ending I expected, yet it’s an ending I appreciate endlessly. Because it doesn’t really end. Midnight shows the troubling times of a strained relationship; one that has endured so long and despite initially feeling almost dreamlike in how idealistically that first encounter was portrayed, the cracks appear as the film forces you to come to terms with the fact that fairy-tale romances just don’t exist. Relationships require effort and sacrifice and sometimes the ones that truly work are those that endure through all the rough patches to emerge stronger. The Holy Mountain (1973) - 10/10 Jodorowsky’s masterpiece is absolute insanity. I talked more about it on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) - 10/10 Another watch for Grand Budapest because I bought the Criterion blu-ray. As unalterably perfect as ever. Blue Jay (2016) - 6/10 Rather good up to a point. My co-hosts and I did not agree on how good this movie was, which is a discussion you can listen to on my podcast. Shadow and Bone: The Afterparty (2021) - 3/10 For what it’s worth, I really enjoyed the first season of Shadow and Bone, which is why I wanted to see what ‘The Afterparty’ was about. This could have been a lot better and much less annoying if all those terrible comedians weren’t hosting and telling bad jokes. I don’t want to see Fortune Feimster attempt to tell a joke about oiling her body as the cast of the show sit awkwardly in their homes over Zoom. If it had simply been a half hour, 45 minute chat with the cast and crew about how they made the show and their thoughts on it, a lot of embarrassment and time-wasting could have been spared. Wadjda (2012) - 6/10 Another recommendation discussed at length on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Wadjda was pretty interesting from a cultural perspective but largely familiar in terms of story structure.

Freddy Got Fingered (2001) - 2/10 A truly terrible movie with maybe one or two scenes that stop it from being a complete catastrophe. Tom Green tried to create something that almost holds a middle finger to everyone who watches it and to some that could be a fun experience, but to me it just came across as utterly irritating. It’s simply a bunch of scenes threaded together with an incredibly loose plot. He wears the skin of a dead deer, smacks a disabled woman over and over again on the legs to turn her on, and he swings a newborn baby around a hospital room by its umbilical cord (that part was actually pretty funny). I cannot believe I watched this again, although I think I repressed a lot of it since having seen it for the first time around five years ago. The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 1 - (2011) I have to say, these movies seem to get better with each instalment. They’re still not very good though. That being said, I’m amazed at how many times I’ve watched each of the Twilight movies at this point. This time around, I watched Breaking Dawn - Part 1 with a YMS commentary track on YouTube and that made the experience a lot more entertaining. Otherwise, this film is super dumb but pretty entertaining. I would recommend watching these movies with friends. Solaris (1972) - 8/10 Andrei Tarkovsky’s grand sci-fi epic about the emotional crises of a crew on the space station orbiting the fictional planet Solaris is much as strange and creepy as you might expect from the master Russian auter. I had wanted to watch this for a while so I bought the Criterion blu-ray and it’s just stunning. It’s clear to see the 2001: A Space Odyssey inspiration but Solaris is quite a different beast entirely. Jaws (1975) - 4/10 I really tried to get into this classic movie, but Jaws exhibits basically everything I don’t like about Steven Spielberg’s directing. For sure, the effects are crazily good but the story itself is poorly handled and largely uninteresting. It was just a massive slog to get through.

Darkman (1990) - 6/10 Sam Raimi’s superhero movie is so much fun, albeit massively stupid. Further discussion on Darkman can be found on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast. Darkman II: The Return of Durant (1995) - 1/10 Abysmal. I forgot the movie as I watched it. This was part of a marathon my friends and I did for episode 32 of our podcast. Darkman III: Die Darkman Die (1996) - 1/10 Perhaps this trilogy is not so great after all. Only marginally better than Darkman II but still pretty terrible. More thoughts on episode 32 of my podcast. F For Fake (1973) - 8/10 Rewatching this proved to be a worthwhile decision. Albeit slightly boring, there’s no denying how crazy the story of this documentary about art forgers is. The standout however, is the director himself. Orson Welles makes a lot of this film about himself and how hot his girlfriend is and it is hilarious.

The Mitchells vs. The Machines (2021) - 4/10 More style over substance, Sony’s new animated adventure wants so much to be in trend with the current internet culture but it simply doesn’t understand what it’s emulating. There’s a nyan cat reference, for crying out loud. For every joke that works, there are about ten more that do not and were it not for the wonderful animation, it simply wouldn’t be getting so much praise. Taxi Driver (1976) - 10/10 The first movie I’ve seen in a cinema since 2020 and damn it was good to be back! I’ve already reviewed Taxi Driver in my March wrap-up but seeing it in the cinema was a real treat. Irreversible (2002) - 8/10 One of the most viscerally horrendous experiences I’ve ever had while watching a movie. I cannot believe a friend of mine gave me the DVD to watch. More thoughts on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast. Don’t watch it with the family. The Golden Compass (2007) - 1/10 I had no recollection of this being as bad as it is. The Golden Compass is the definition of a factory mandated movie. Nothing it does on its own is worth any kind of merit. I would say, if you wanted an experience like what this tries to communicate, a better option by far is the BBC series, His Dark Materials. More of my thoughts can be found in the review I wrote on Letterboxd.

Antichrist (2009) - 8/10 Lars von Trier is nothing if not provocative and I can understand why someone would not like Antichrist, but I enjoyed it quite a lot. After watching it, I wrote a slightly disjointed summary of my interpretations of this highly metaphorical movie in the group chat, so fair warning for a bit of spoilers and graphic descriptions: It's like, the patriarchy, man! Oppression! Men are the rational thinkers with big brains and the women just cry and be emotional. So she's seen as crazy when she's smashing his cock and driving a drill through his leg to keep him weighted down. Like, how does he like it, ya know? So then she mutilates herself like she did with him and now they're both wounded, but the animals crowd around her (and the crow that he couldn't kill because it's Mother nature, not Father nature, duh). Then he kills her, even though she could've killed him loads of times but didn't. So it's like "haha big win for the man who was subjected to such horrific torture. Victory!" And then all the women with no faces come out of the woods because it's like a constant cycle. Manchester By The Sea (2016) - 6/10 Great performances in this super sad movie. I can’t say I got too much out of it though. Roar (1981) - 9/10 Watching Roar again was still as terrifying an experience as the first time. If you want to watch something that’s loose on plot with poor acting but with real big cats getting in the way of production and physically attacking people, look no further. This is the scariest movie I’ve ever seen because it’s all basically real. Cannot recommend it enough. Eyes Without A Face (1960) - 8/10 I’m glad I checked this old French movie out again. There’s a lot to marvel at in so many aspects, what with the premise itself - a mad surgeon taking the faces from unsuspecting women and transplanting them onto another - being incredibly unique for the time. Short, sweet and entertaining!

Se7en (1995) - 10/10 The first in a David Fincher marathon we did for The Sunday Movie Marathon, episode 33. Zodiac (2007) - 10/10 Second in the marathon, as it was getting late, we decided to watch half that evening and the last half on the following evening. Zodiac is a brilliant movie and you can hear more of my thoughts on the podcast (though I apologise; my audio is not the best in this episode). Gone Girl (2014) - 10/10 My favourite Fincher movie. More insights into this masterpiece in episode 33 of the podcast. Friends: The Reunion (2021) - 6/10 It was heartwarming to see the old actors for this great show together again. I talked about the Friends reunion film at length in episode 33 of my podcast.

Wolfwalkers (2020) - 10/10 I reviewed this in an earlier post but would like to reiterate just how wonderful Wolfwalkers is. If you get the chance, please see it in the cinema. I couldn’t stop crying from how beautiful it was. Raya and The Last Dragon (2021) - 6/10 After watching Wolfwalkers, I decided I didn’t want to go home. So I had lunch in town and booked a ticket for Disney’s Raya and The Last Dragon. A child was coughing directly behind me the entire time. Again, I reviewed this in an earlier post but generally it was decent but I have so many problems with the execution. The Princess Bride (1987) - 9/10 Clearly I underrated this the last time I watched it. The Princess Bride is warm and hilarious with some delightfully memorable characters. A real classic!

The Invisible Kid (1988) - 1/10 About as good as you’d expect a movie with that name to be, The Invisible Kid was a pick for The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, the discussion for which you can listen to in episode 34. Babel (2006) - 9/10 The same night that I watched The Invisible Kid, I watched a masterful and dour drama from the director of Birdman and The Revenant. Babel calls back to an earlier movie of Iñárritu’s, called Amores Perros and as I was informed while we watched this for the podcast, it turns out Babel is part of a trilogy alongside the aforementioned film. More thoughts in episode 34 of the podcast. Snake Eyes (1998) - 1/10 After feeling thoroughly emotionally wiped out after Babel, we immediately watched another recommendation for the podcast: Snake Eyes, starring Nicolas Cage. This was a truly underwhelming experience and for more of a breakdown into what makes this movie so bad, you can listen to us talk about it on the podcast.

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septembercfawkes · 3 years

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How Theme is Your Story's Shadow

Something that has been coming into my conversations lately, is the idea that theme is like your story's shadow. Or perhaps, more accurately, its shadow puppet.

Setting, characters, and plot are more concrete. They are (more or less) physical. But theme comes out of them when an outside intelligence (writer or reader) shines light on them. This casts a shadow to form a shape, or a puppet.

Learning about and writing theme can be difficult, in part, because you can't hold and mold a shadow itself.

You have to shift what casts the shadow.

To create the right shadow puppet, you have to rearrange the hands--the story elements--the right way.

And if you cast an incoherent blob on the wall and claim it makes a cat, it's not going to be effective.

This is the equivalent of a writer trying to slap on a thematic argument through "telling," when the story itself doesn't "show" or back up the argument. This usually manifests in a character being philosophical or preachy somewhere in the story--trying to force a meaningful discussion on a topic that is irrelevant enough to be un-meaningful.

On the other hand, a professional-level writer may understand how to arrange the characters and plot in a beautiful, coherent way, so that it casts an elaborate shadow--even if the writer never looks beyond the story.

This is why you can sometimes find powerful, thematic literature, written by someone who doesn't know how theme works. Just this last week, I was listening to a hugely successful writer talk for hours about his approach to writing, without even addressing theme. Yet I've seen his work used by others when discussing theme.

He surely knows all about rearranging the hands appropriately, so when anyone intelligent comes to look, they shine the light on them to find the thematic shadow. It doesn't matter so much that he doesn't understand theme. He understands the underlying principles that make up the theme.

For the rest of us, we need some help. And understanding theme before we get to a professional level, will help us reach that level faster. Furthermore, I have sometimes wondered how much better a successful writer would be, if they did properly understand theme. I mean, imagine if their stories were even more impactful!

In order to cast a great thematic shadow, we need to understand its physical counterparts.

Here are the critical pieces:

1. Your protagonist's dominating qualities, worldview, and/or lifestyle

Your protagonist has dominating qualities. She might be a survivalist like Katniss. Innocent like Frodo. Miserly like Scrooge. Overly protective and codependent like Marlin in Finding Nemo. Or something else. One, if not multiple, of these qualities tap into the theme.

2. Your protagonist's arc

How your protagonist changes or remains the same because of the plot, regarding those qualities, conveys a value of those qualities. Scrooge gives up his miserly ways to live a better life. This implies that being miserly can hold one back from a better life.

What a character wants versus what a character needs can also play into this.

3. Antagonistic force's qualities and worldview

Because the antagonist is opposing the protagonist, the antagonist is also challenging the protagonist's dominating qualities. The antagonist either leads to the protagonist changing those qualities or at least tests the protagonist's commitment to those qualities. At some point, in some way, the antagonist is usually thematically opposite of the protagonist.

4. How that antagonistic force is resolved

At the climax, the protagonist and antagonistic force go head to head. It's what makes the climax, the climax.

Who wins and how, conveys a teaching about those qualities and worldviews. Katniss must defeat the antagonistic force by proving she will do more than simply save herself and survive (which is what they expect). She must be willing to risk dying to save Peeta and beat the Games.

To defeat death, Scrooge must be willing to let go of his miserly ways and realize real wealth comes from relationships and helping others.

In the denouement, those who gain something greater (and this may only be internal), are those who have the "correct" view, while those who are punished have the "wrong" view. The "correct" view is the theme.

Here are the supporting pieces:

1. Influence Character

I actually debate where to put this one, because I think it's more important than the other supporting pieces, but not as important as the critical pieces.

The Influence Character is important because they influence or impact the protagonist. The Influence Character and protagonist are connected in some way, but they usually have different methods or views when it comes to dealing with life. These differences tap into the theme.

Most of the time, the Influence Character has a worldview that the protagonist comes to understand and adopt--a worldview that is "correct." This embodies the theme. However, in some stories, this will be reversed. (And there can be variations.)

2. Supporting Cast

Ideally, the supporting characters will also be feeding into the theme, by providing different perspectives related to the protagonist's and/or antagonists dominating qualities and worldviews. For example, in Arrival--which centers on the theme topic of communication--the protagonist must interact with characters who don't understand, respect, or fully value language. In Moana, each of the side characters has a different view on identity--Tamatoa says identity comes from your appearance, while Moana's father argues identity comes from your place on the island.

3. Secondary Plots

Often secondary plots will mirror or foil the main conflict, which means they mirror or foil the thematic argument. In Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, the thematic argument is that what one chooses is more important than what one is--as demonstrated by the fact that Harry, who lacks a pure bloodline and "should" have been in Slytherin, is able to defeat the Heir of Slytherin with the Gryffindor sword. This proves that Harry's choices (to be in Gryffindor) are more important than what he is--since he defeats the antagonistic force who is arguing that one's value is based on what one is (a pureblood).

In addition to the primary plot, the thematic argument is explored in the other conflicts: Hermione being bullied for being a Mudblood, despite being the best at magic; Nearly-Headless Nick attempting repeatedly to join the Headless Hunt, who argues he doesn't qualify; Hagrid being a scapegoat for being half-giant; Dobby being forced to serve the Malfoys because he's a house-elf; Filch trying to learn magic as a squib.

The critical pieces are the "bones" of the shadow puppet. The supporting points provide the "flesh" (they add breadth, density, or depth to the shadow).

Because the critical pieces are the bones, they inherently make the shadow puppet when the light shines on them. You can't cast a shadow that doesn't match the bones. This is why every story you write says something about life, even if you don't want it to.

And this is why some writers accidentally say something in their themes, that they didn't mean to. For example, if Katniss killed Peeta to win the Games--and was rewarded for that--then the argument may be that survival at all costs, including killing a friend, is the correct way to live. A completely different thematic statement.

This is why trying to slap on an irrelevant theme through some character monologuing, doesn't ring true. Because the bones said the theme was something different. The bones showed the theme was something different.

You can never cast a shadow that doesn't match the bones.

The supporting pieces aren't as vital, so they give you more wiggle room. Still, a shadow is usually easier to see when it has some depth.

The supporting pieces may simply, ultimately reinforce the main argument, which may make the theme more straightforward. For example, Hermione being bullied for being a Muggleborn, when she's actually the best in her class, simply reinforces the idea that what we choose (to study hard) is more important than what we are (Muggleborn). Notice, however, that this doesn't necessarily make the journey "easy." After all, feelings were hurt, and tears were shed.

On the other hand, the supporting pieces may contrast the main argument, which may make the theme more complex. In Zootopia, Judy dreams of being a bunny cop to prove to everyone that you can be anything you want. However, when we meet Nick, he shares the idea that a baby fox wants to grow up to be an elephant. This is an impossibility. No matter what, a fox can't be an elephant.

This means that the idea that we "can be anything," is actually more nuanced and complex. It needs some refining. In the right context, we "can be anything." There are certain limitations. . . . Although, maybe these days, one might argue that a fox could identify as an elephant--but that's a different argument outside that story's.

(Also, just a note on a technicality, the idea that "we can be anything" is actually a secondary theme of the story, not the primary theme (which is about bias), but the principle holds true regardless. Someday I'll talk about secondary themes.)

Because the supporting pieces can reinforce or contrast the critical pieces, you can write all kinds of things in those spots. However, it can be helpful and beneficial to know what you are doing so you can create the best shadow puppet shape you want.

It also helps you evaluate how one idea may fit better in your story than another and keeps you from arguing something you didn't intend. Just as an example, if I did want to argue that indeed "we can be anything," then I may not want to include Nick's elephant idea, and if I did, I'd want to refute it by showing a fox could be an elephant when he grew up.

What's not a good idea is to put in a bunch of stuff that is irrelevant to the theme. Suppose J. K. Rowling decided to include the secondary plot of Ron's relationship with Lavender Brown in Chamber of Secrets instead of Half-blood Prince. It waters down and takes away from the theme, because it has little to do with what someone chooses or what someone is. It needs to stay in Half-blood Prince, which explores one's inability/ability to love, along with counterfeit love.

However, with that said, one may argue you can take that plotline and rework it to highlight Ron's choices and maybe argue that Lavendar only likes him because of what he is--a keeper on the quidditch team. That would make that plotline more supportive of the theme. And it may be that by the time the story is publish-ready, it has naturally come to that point.

Needless to say, you can flesh out the bones all kinds of ways. And I'm sure I will talk some more about that in the future.

For now, just remember that in order to convey theme, you need to shift the "physical" pieces, so that when someone shines light on them, they can see the right shadow. The critical pieces definitively make up the theme, and the supporting pieces reinforce or add complexity to it. While it is possible to write a great story without understanding theme, it's probably better to use it to your advantage.

#writing tips #writing tips and tricks #writeblr #fanfic #writing theme #writing reference #writing help

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michyreadsthenwrites · 3 years

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Plain Bad Heroines - Let Me Give You My Thoughts On This (Character Analysis)

**major maaaaajor spoilers ahead**

(Here we begin with the handful of characters from Danforth’s sophomore novel that have found their way into my heart and apparently, this Word document. It didn’t hurt that they were all women that love women. And I mean, they really loved women.)

· Merritt Emmons is easily my favorite character. She’s got that dry, sarcastic humor and air around her that makes it really easy to love her and hate her guts all at the same time. (If she were here, she’d tell us that this was a talent, not a flaw.) I felt personally affronted when characters in PBH didn’t like Merritt, like they were overlooking the diamond in the rough right in front of their faces. Then, like most things, it became pretty clear: Merritt Emmons could be one hell of a bitch at times. But it really only made me love her more. I realized that I identified with her. Yes, about being a queer woman that really fucking loves other women, but also because she was a writer that wanted her writing to stay true to how she wrote it, especially with so many people traipsing all over it and trying to make it into something it’s not. That was where I realized I loved her early on; when she pitched a genuine fit over who was to play Clara Broward. It was something so petty and childish, something so very me to throw a fit in a packed room of professionals when you have no idea about that kind of world and what it demands. But she fought for what she believed in, alright. Until she didn’t. This made me love her some more, incidentally. We got to see Merritt’s character development throughout the novel, and more specifically, we got to watch her bounce back and forth between the person she was too scared to be but wanted more than she could ever admit, and the person she spent twenty long years being; the person she was oh-so-tired of introducing to people. This constant shift between new-Merritt and old, crabby, prickly-Merritt was a very raw and vulnerable thing for us to experience as an audience. Merritt was certainly a lot more refreshing than every one of the overdone-Hollywood-types we became acquainted with within the book. She was mean and arrogant and wildly insecure, yet somehow confident and sure of herself, when it came to her work or her knowledge or anything that had to do with any book written, ever. A walking paradox, that one. Merritt was a good way to remember that real people, not built-and-put-together-by-Hollywood-people don’t always have their shit together, and they can’t always get it together by the end of a novel, albeit a long, six-hundred-page one. I think I’ll cut myself off here, friends. Not that I want to, but I feel we have a lot to get to in these pages, and Merritt Emmons can’t be the star of all of them (lord knows I’d let her, though). To sum it up: Merritt Emmons was the star of this book, for me at least. And I hope for you too. (This means go get your ass over to your closest B&N and buy the damn thing).

· Harper Harper is somewhat of a mystery to me. She was a major character in the story, as well as one of our three protagonists, our three heroines, and yet I have trouble finding her as authentic and outlandish as she tries to come across. What I’m still having trouble deciphering is if this is an intentional character flaw created by our Miss Danforth, or if Harper Harper really has nothing to her besides being completely reinvented and marketed by Hollywood. Even in saying this, I know I have to give Harper credit where it’s due. She’s a proud queer woman in the movie industry, as well as openly queer online and really with just anyone and everyone she meets. She’s known for various flings and love-interests of the week, which is still a gross misrepresentation and stereotype of (masc?) lesbians and how they’re emotionally unavailable and unfaithful, which again is a possibility of the author’s intentional writing, something that we can leave for further discussion. We do get a bit of a glimpse into Harper’s life – her real-life – about how her mother is struggling with her sobriety, how her little brother seems to be caught in the middle of her mother’s messy relationships, and how she really has mixed feelings about how she fits into her new movie-star life. That’s about all we get from Harper, though. And it really is almost enough realness to take away from the fact that everyone else in the world sees Harper as the face of Hollywood, as this thing of beauty and money and badassery instead of a real person. But still not enough. And I could be wrong, friends. I could be pulling all of this out of my ass because Harper Harper is a badass queer woman that took over the movie industry with barely any experience under her belt. Harper Harper took every room she walked into by storm, and she made everybody pay attention to her, and she became the character we had a little crush on, simply because she was that big of a deal. But nothing of substance, not really. Not ever. But perhaps she had been her most real self with Merritt Emmons, in between the quiet pages that we didn’t get to read entirely. Merritt, our dry and arrogant and favorite heroine, had been Harper’s favorite, too. The most credit that I find myself giving Harper is her aid in Merritt’s character development. She brought Merritt out of her shell in a massive way, though at times she did have a hand in driving her back into the said shell. It was flawed, their relationship, which is another authentic Harper Harper insight we saw, as little of it there was. They were hot and cold, on and off, but always so enthralled with each other. And while Harper seemed to have had an impact on Merritt (among other factors), it doesn’t seem like Merritt had the same effect on Harper. I could be wrong and do feel free to correct me, friends, but Harper Harper did not come out the other end of PBH a changed woman. She was not burdened with the weight of a life-changing revelation. She was Harper Harper, as she always was, floating and untouchable, the kind of woman you wished to know, maybe to be, but also the kind you see right through. They’re transparent, friends, that’s what I’m trying to get at here. And they tend to stay that way. And I realize as I’m nearing the end of this, that I sound harsh in my critiques and analysis of Harper. I don’t mean to come off that way, friends, I really don’t. The truth is I love Harper, she’s everything we wish we could be. She’s gorgeous and sought after, can land any girl she wants with the bat of her eyelashes and a lazy smile. But you have to remember, she’s everything we’re not. I can only speak for myself, friends, and I encourage you to speak for yourselves if you find you have anything to add. I never related with Harper the way I did with Merritt’s character, but that doesn’t mean that Harper isn’t a beautiful enigma waiting to be unwrapped. I just don’t happen to be the kind of reader that would know where to begin unwrapping her, if that makes sense. And because I’m afraid it doesn’t, I do believe it’s time to stop with the metaphors and wrap this up nicely for you, friends: Harper Harper is number two on my list of favorite characters from PBH, and that is not something done lightly or by accident. She was one of our three heroines, after all. And a proper heroine she was, friends. Don’t you ever forget it.

· Libbie Packard broke my heart more times than I count, friends. You’ll notice I have kept her maiden name, then. This is intentional, friends, for our Libbie never wanted to be a Brookhants, not really. It wasn’t towards the end of PBH that we learned much of what we now know about Libbie, and how it came about that she had been married (to a man no less!), as well as the very young principal of an all-girls school. Throughout their chapters in the book, Libbie and Alex, her Alex, were seemingly at each other’s throats constantly. There seemed to be a mysterious tension that we as an audience weren’t privy to – but it didn’t stop us from speculating. I found myself drawn to Libbie more than I did her counterpart, and I still can’t point my finger as to why. Libbie seemed sad, right from our first introduction, and Alex always seemed angry and cynical (as a queer woman in 1902, is there any other way to seem?). This might serve as a dual character analysis yet, friends. I’m not sure how much I’ll have to say about our Alexandra Trills, but Libbie Packard deserves a long sentence, or two. You know when something finally clicks into place and you can’t help but just let out a long “ooohhhhhhh”? That’s a recreation of how I looked when I read the explanation of how Libbie Packard became Libbie Brookhants. Learning that she had become pregnant with a baby she didn’t want was mind-blowing enough, and it filled in the blanks of how young, gorgeous Libbie had become the wife of a rich, old, old man. Libbie gave up her child was because she didn’t want to be a mother, and she had originally rejected Harold Brookhants offer of marriage because she didn’t want to be a wife, regardless of false the marriage was. And for a while, Libbie’s new life was amazing; she got to live with her Alex in a beautiful house and became the principal of a promising school. This was the life she’d always wanted. Or was that just what we wanted to believe, friends? Only at the end did we learn that Libbie had rejected Harold Brookhants offer (to live a quiet, queer life with her lover and without the child she clearly didn’t want) because she didn’t want to be tied down; not to Harold, not to anyone. If you think about it, friends, this was exactly the life that she had been living for years to come now. The tension with Alex had much to do with the circumstances surrounding them at Brookhants and the evil that was unfolding before them, but it seemingly had even more to do with the fact that Libbie Packard felt smothered. She was hiding secrets from Alex, secrets that she felt could destroy this already fragile relationship that they had between them. How vastly different it was to read and experience their relationship at the beginning of their love; playful and full of joy, both women giddy with the promise of something new and exciting. To compare that kind of love to the broken, tight-lipped, empty vessel of the relationship they now pretend to have is heartbreaking. And yet, completely understandable. Alex had fallen in love with the Libbie she wanted her to be, not the Libbie she was. Our Libbie wanted to be eternally young; playful and happy, bouncing from city to city with Sara Dahlgren in a sea of eligible bachelors (and bachelorettes!). It was almost a shock to discover that this life Libbie tried so hard to defend and protect was not a life she had ever wanted for herself. Despite this, she loved her Alex and her students, and devoted her life to them. There was that whole business with cheating on Alex with Adelaide the housemaid (don’t even get me started on that broad) but I’d like to extend to you, friends, the fact that I won’t comment on this. Queer relationships in 1902 are definitely not what they are now, complete with century-old curses and dead schoolgirls. Libbie Packard became the 1902-lesbian-headmistress version of our stereotypical bored housewife, stuck in a marriage that she secretly wishes she could be free from. And my heart broke for her, friends, it really did. But she was a heroine all on her own. A deeply intelligent and remarkable woman. Make no mistake, friends. Libbie Packard and Libbie Brookhants differ by more than just a surname. Our young, vivacious Libbie disappeared the moment she accepted Harold Brookhants’ offer, and this is indeed the sad truth of it, friends: Libbie Packard was gone before she could ever find herself. But Libbie Brookhants was our gorgeous, brilliant, queer heroine that never got what she deserved. So, friends, let’s all have a moment of silence for our dearly departed Libbie Brookhants… wherever she is.

· Alexandra Trills is a character that I don’t know where to begin with. Her end is not one that I saw coming, at least not in the gruesome and deranged circumstances that came to surround it. Or maybe, friends, I just didn’t want to acknowledge the clear downwards spiral that our Miss Trills had seemed to be heading towards. Her steadfast and growing obsession with the death of Florence Hartshorn and Clara Broward was apparent in every page we turned, and the following death of Eleanor Faderman did not aid in absolving Alex of her obsession with the one, single copy of a book they had all possessed at one point: The Story of Mary McLane. Alex grew hysterical in her investigation of the novel and whatever evil she believed it had brought to the students of her school. I remember feeling a bit hysterical myself at times, following along with Alex’s scrambled train of thought that never seemed to find a place to stop. She was right, you know, my friends. And now what does she have to show for it? A gruesome death and an eternity of haunting the same grounds, day in and day out? I may not have liked her, and felt like she had been the reason Libbie was so unhappy and stuck in a life that she did not want, but the way Alex’s story had ended really did take me by surprise and break my heart. She deserved a better ending than what she got; she deserved to reconcile and fix her strained relationship with Libbie. Damn it, they deserved to live quiet, happy lives with each other. Neither of them got the endings that they deserved, and God, did they deserve plenty. This, friends, is the hill I choose to die on tonight.

Alright, friends, this is it for my character analysis of Emily Danforth’s Plain Bad Heroines! I have a special place in my heart for book characters that you can relate with (or characters that just really make you love them). The way that Emily Danforth brought our heroines to life was remarkable and highly impressive (I say this because it’s decidedly been a while since any book character(s) have weaseled their fictional way into my little heart). It’s rare that I give a book five stars (check out my Goodreads reviews) (oh god, please don’t), and yet halfway through PBH, I knew that this book deserved it. Good book characters are the ones that stick with you long after you’ve closed the book on them, and our heroines are stuck with me. And believe me, friends, I’m certainly not complaining.

#plain bad heroines #emily danforth #book review #book reviews #character analysis #books #literature #lgbtq #wlw #queer #writing blog

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bluebellhairpin · 3 years

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Never Forget, Never Regret (1/?)

Levi Ackerman X Reader (But like, less than normal?)

A/N: Blame that conversation I had with Suz a couple weeks ago for this one. #BEST DECOY CLUB!!! - Nemo

Summary: They’ve always been a duo, riding along the exact same path in the exact same way. But then they aren’t, and (y/n) can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not.

Warnings: Character Death. General AoT themes. Blood. Injuries.

Listening to: ‘Apple Seed’ - Attack on Titan OST (Bertholdt Transformation Theme) - ‘Old man please remember me.’

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Eventually, when someone's faced with something that they're unable to overcome, they have to make a decision. Keep fighting, and overcome the situation. Or get help, find someone who can overcome it.

These two Scouts managed to do both.

When they were in the training corps they met someone who they soon came to realized was a lot like the other. And to this day they had yet to meet anyone who didn't think they both were absolutely insane.

Training s cadets was more a time they'd both spend bonding rather than actually training - even if an obscene amount of training did get done anyway. It was like they both really wanted to be there. They'd blabber on about how each other would kill the titans, how efficient they both could be if they tried the odm gear this way or that. They would keep score when they spared, rewarding whoever 'won' with some of the loser's food at dinner. The most unusual of all the things they did was probably joining the Scouting Legion - without flinching, or a single second thought.

No one would think that was a good choice, not until a boy came years after they both joined. He had the same pure, unrestrained audacity as both of them did - and did he latch on to their examples like a man starved.

On their first expedition beyond the walls, everyone thought they'd both die. Not because they were inexperienced or lacking skills - they both were some of the top ranking in the whole cadets - however they were also self-destructive.

When the time came to using the odm gear to avoid the titans during the expedition, they went nothing short of buckwild.

Their superior was horrified. The other Scouts were shocked into awe. And when they returned within the walls, their superior's superior wanted to 'ground' them both for recklessness. However, like some angel of death, second chances, and blond hair, Erwin Smith came and simply asked for them both to be transferred to his section. Erwin, being new to his higher position in the Scouts, was seen as just gathering people to join his expeditions.

The two had been outside the walls. Riden. Fought. Lived. Protected. In fact, despite their reckless moves and haphazard techniques, they'd been a great help - only three people came back to be buried, and one didn’t come back at all.

A new record.

Erwin didn't understand how bad they must've been, facts considered. Not until he saw them in action too.

Then and there, in a forest filled with titans, he knew.

They were smiling. Laughing. They both sounded like they were having the time of their lives. He concluded they were absolutely bonkers. But in a flash, he also knew they were going to be useful.

They went ahead, letting out whoops and cheers, while watching each other's backs, but they drew a lot of the titans to themselves too. They put themselves into a buttload of danger, but the other Scouts, especially the new cadets, were having it much easier. Erwin could see a method to the madness, even if they themselves couldn't, and from then on he decided he'd use it as best he could.

And that's exactly what happened.

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You hung up your saddle, fixing up the stirrups, and deciding to not clean it today, as much as Levi might nag you about it later. You did do it last week, and again lightly before you left yesterday.

After today, however, you had a feeling he'd be lenient.

Despite how Erwin planned, and how the Cadet Armin offered his opinion, the losses counted were not something you, nor your titan-killing counterpart could've stopped. Said counterpart soon appeared at your side.

By now you could tell when it was her behind you and when it was Hange trying to test your 'connection'. You could tell she was going to say something, just from the way she let out a huff. Turning, you saw she was looking slightly disheveled, which was odd considering how kept she normally looked.

And for once, you didn't know what to say to make her or yourself feel better.

"I'll miss them," she said, saving you from having to say anything, "But we've got to keep fighting. For them."

"Never regret." You said, lifting a fist up to her, and she mirrored you, her fist now touching yours.

"Never forget." She finished.

"Oi, (y/n), Nerva. Erwin wants the both of you in the dining hall." Levi said, appearing from thin air to startle you both half out of your skins. "Now." he added after a beat.

"Yessir." She drawled, earning a scowl from the short captain. Even though you'd both been here longer than him, he still thought he had more authority than you. Nerva said it was because he was 'so old', but you were pretty sure it was just because of how skilled he was. You worked a lot on luck, and he didn't like leaving things to chance and bets.

"Sure thing Levi." You said. If one of you were going to be less than pleasant, then it was probably going to be you. It helped that you had a soft spot for him.

You both watched Levi eye you one more time, before he left. No sooner had he left, then Nerva had a hand on your shoulder.

"'Sure thing Levi'," she started, mocking you in a hushed and too goodie-two-shoed voice, "Also, I love you and want to marry you and have your babies please, Mr. Captain Levi Sir."

You laid a heavy backhand on her shoulder.

"Shut up!" You scolded, "After everything that happened today, you're doing that?" She smiled sadly, shrugging with a hand on her shoulder.

"Humour makes it easier for me. You know I don't cry, ever, so this is second best." she said, "And you know, well might I add, that if Petra were still here I'd be doing it to her too. The both of you were groupies."

Your eyes darkened, a ghost of a wicked smirk flashing on your face before you returned to your stoick look.

"I supposed I shouldn't bring up that 'meeting' you had with Miche and Erwin then. Without me." You said, sticking your nose in the air. "You and I both know we always go to meetings together. That one was suspicious."

Nerva sputtered as you took off towards the main building, catching up to your side with a few quick strides.

"I've sworn that was just a meeting, nothing happened!"

"Sure sure."

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They had a plan.

The Cadet Armin thought he knew who the Female Titan was, and as a group you'd all come up and approve a plan.

You and Nerva didn't have a lot to do, if you were to compare this mission to normal circumstances. Your main job was to make sure things didn't go too out of hand, and to take civilians out of the way if they couldn't in time. Your unprecedented odm moves would be utilized, just like Erwin normally did, and Nerva was practically vibrating for a chance to catapult and slingshot through narrow streets.

You hadn't done something like that since the 104th Cadets joined the Garrison and Scouts to help with the second wall breach.

Standing atop a rooftop each, you and Nerva huddle behind some chimney's. You both share a couple looks, and you knew what she was saying.

'Something's gonna happen. Something bad.'

And you couldn't help but agree. You don't survive this long in the Scouts without getting an intuition. A sixth sense for when things are going to turn sour. This was one of those times you were right.

The sky rumbled, shaking the building you were on, and there was a bright flash of light. You slid down the roof but caught yourself, and Nerva surged forward with a stumble.

"Damn," she swore, hands on her odm handles, "It really was Annie."

You turned and climbed back up the roof to see what Nerva saw - the same blonde-haired titan that had killed your friends.

"That's a titan I'd cut to splinters." Nerva muttered.

"She's just a kid," you said, also reaching for your gear, "I bet she doesn't know any different." She clicked her tongue, before pointing around.

"Let's get moving. I'll tell Erwin, you tell Hange. Collect and corral civilians on the way if you have time. Go, go, go!"

You both had an intuition that day - that something bad would happen. At the time you didn't know how bad that thing was. But you found out.

Annie and the Female Titan soon became the least of your problems.

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Series Taglist: @miss-consulting-timelord (idk if you did want to be tagged or what, but all things considered?)

Taglist is Open!

#the adventures #levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan x reader #shinjeki no kyojin x reader #erwin smith #oc x reader?

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spongebob-connoisseur · 3 years

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So far what drew me in to the Spongebob spin-offs were characters and concepts not used in regular Spongebob show. Narleen has charmed me to my surprise. Baby Pearl is simply adorable. Patrick’s relationship to his adopted sister Squidina is just so precious. I think Kamp Koral is a separate timeline that adult Sandy Cheeks created through the power of science. The Patrick Show was made possible by the properties of Randomland. If you think like that you are able to enjoy the spin-offs. I’m able to enjoy them. Way more then Planet Sheen.

Yeah I fully agree. I've said before that the KK's strength was focusing on side characters and stories that couldn't be done in the main series like Narlene and bby Pearl. My favorite episode currently is Gimme A News Break with young Perch Perkins. I thought it was cute and I never considered Perch much of an interesting character before. He was just the news reporter but after seeing this episode, I really wish there was more Perch episodes. There was so much story potential right in front of us and we never saw it???

I didn't care much for Kamp Koral's spongebob much. He's pretty much the same as his adult counterpart and there isn't much to add to his relationships with other characters. But for Squidward and Patrick, it's a different story. I really didn't expect to have such a good episode between them. I really enjoyed it. There was only one episode I can think of from the main series that was only Patrick and Squidward and that's Pat Hearts Squid. But Squisery is an infinitely better episode. It's just Patrick and Squidward but it has younger Patrick who isn't used to having friends quite yet. He just made friends with Spongebob at camp and Sandy is a friend of spongebob so she'd be a friend of Patrick's but everyone knows a friend of a friend isn't much like a friend.

Anyways getting off topic but Patrick really really wants to be close to Squidward and them being stuck together in the wilderness was a good opportunity. He gets too attached to Squidward and Squidward really grows to like Pat. So much so that he even has a little romantic daydream- I thought it was too adorable. I actually wish that would happen more in the main series. While Squidward thinks Pat is dumb, he does secretly enjoy his company.

Now as for The Patrick Star Show! I really thought it was cute. I really liked the addition of Squidina. Gives Patrick some responsibility and an extra person to interact with. They've got an adorable sibling relationship. I really like Patrick's grandpa. Even if he tried to near murder his grandson in the Pat-a-thon episode. I also really like Spongey more here! He's a bit quieter and a little more calmer and shyer? Its possible it was because when he displayed more of these traits was because he was on tv. I think it's a little too cute and wish they kept it as part of his character. A little bit more self conscious when he was younger. Honestly the only thing I really was looking forward to about the Patrick Show was young sponge! Everytime he's on screen, he steals the show.

I do like the side characters a lot too. we knew him as Slappy from Spongebob's big birthday blowout episode but his actual name is Laszlo in the Patrick Show! I really adore him. Little unhinged gremlin man :> I actually am surprised he made a comeback. I didn't expect him to be anything more than just a weirdo Peter Lorre caricature side character for the birthday episode. Anyways I'm glad he's back I really enjoy him

LOOK AT HIM LOOK AT HIM✨💖💕🌷🌸💗🌸✨💕💖🌷🌷✨💕✨🌸🌷💖💕💖🌸💗✨🌷💗

I've gushed about him too much. My friend is actually making stickers of him for me :>

Anyways yeah I agree Kamp Koral is definitely a different timeline due to Sandy's meddling with time. I think she started this timeline issue by interfering with the events of the episode Friend or Foe. I think she thought she was doing good by trying to fix their broken friendship in the past (or prevent their fighting) but accidentally caused the Krabby Patty formula to no longer exist because of this.

Luckily the formula has too much impact on the timeline to be so easily erased and inevitably gets created in the future. Only problem is Eugene is less prepared for Plankton trying to steal it (because he has a new born bby to take care of) and we all know what would happen if Plankton got his hands on the formula. So Sandy decides to fix it by sending her younger self to stop the krabby patty formula from being created during kamp koral so it can be later created in the future.

Sandy shows up in the Patrick Star Show which takes place before the main series which means this show takes place in the Kamp Koral timeline as well.

The 3rd movie, Kamp Koral, and The Patrick Show all take place in the same timeline which is different from the main series timeline.

Honestly something I'm curious about with The Patrick Show is I agree it probably takes place in or around Random Land but we see the goofy goober ice cream parlor in it. Is that place a franchise with multiple stores or is there only 1 and that's the one SB and Patrick go to in the 1st movie because if so did the randomn properties from randomland eventually wore off on the environment overtime? I think it's probably just another store tho :/

Anyways I really like the spinoffs! Its funny, I haven't ever seen Planet Sheen. I like the patrick show more because it reminds me of other shows I liked as a kid also some characters feel too good of a treat. Also more character interactions we don't get in the main series! It's worthwhile and doesn't deserve as much hate as they get!

#Princess-unipeg #spongebob #spongebob squarepants #sb #spongebon squarepants #the spongebob connoisseur #spongebob meme #Kamp koral #Camp coral #the patrick star show #Ask

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chenoehi · 3 years

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Thoughts on Ep. 15: Koga, Moroha, Zero, Riku, and Kirinmaru

First, now that good boy Koga is back in the game, a fun theory/headcanon I’ve had is that Moroha’s sword is actually Koga’s sword—you know the one he always carries around but never uses? They look the same as far as I can tell, and I noticed that immediately in addition to the other hints she was raised by the wolves (which I think most of us suspected, but it’s lovely to have it confirmed). That or the sword came from the wolf tribe at least, it resembles the kind of sword Ayame has, too. With the confirmation of Ep. 15 this theory is now becoming more likely.

Also, I just have to say that as devastating as it is that Kagome and Inuyasha did not get to raise their daughter and that they felt betrayed by Sesshomaru after coming to trust him (I absolutely believe he is helping them, not hurting them), it is comforting knowing that Koga had a hand in raising their daughter. He loved Kagome and treated well, having so much affection and respect for her by the end. He even showed some compassion for Inuyasha (in his own way). You can say he became their friend rather than simply being their ally. The fact that they trusted him to protect their child speaks volumes. And did you see how proud he looked when Hachi brought her to the tribe? Moroha is not his child but you know he will treat her like one. We don’t know the details yet of who raised her exactly or how she came to be separated from the wolves, but I have full confidence that Ayame and Koga treat Moroha like their own.

I know some people are sad that Miroku and Sango did not raise her, but knowing the threat against her and that their human friends already had a young family to take care of, it makes sense they would want to hide her away. And although it would have been perfect if Moroha could have lived in the barrier and been safe with her cousins (and possibly Rin), but again we’re not sure of the details yet.

Obviously, Inuyasha knew of the threat against Moroha’s life from Kagome who learned about it from Riku (a comment on that in a minute). I think the swiftness of everything and Moroha’s being sent away rather than being protected behind a barrier like the twins may be due to how immediate the threat became once Kirinmaru was awoken.

What’s unclear is 1. how long after Moroha’s birth is she whisked away? 2. why did they go somewhere specific to confront the maru bros and send their child away? 3. why would they delay sending her away in the first place (they had to with Kagome being there, and also Moroha’s hair is a little longer than the twins at birth so maybe this indicates it wasn’t immediate, or maybe not)? 4. if they delayed sending her because they just found out Kirinmaru had been awoken (by Zero) then who told them? Sesshomaru? 5. if so, did Sesshomaru tell them he had a plan or ask them to trust him while also explaining where to meet and that they needed to send Moroha away? 6. did Koga and co. know that Moroha was coming to them? They don’t seem very surprised, mostly just happy/pleased to see her, but also like they were expecting her. I don’t know how they would have gotten a message to them, but maybe they sent word to the wolves alerting them to the danger and the possibility that they may have to send Moroha away, Koga may have agreed to care for her, and when the time came to follow through they already knew to expect her.

Riku though...

Oh Riku. Seriously what the fuck. I thought I knew where this was going but..I’m trying to justify how Riku is introduced the same episode that we see Kirinmaru in the flesh. They are both shown eating grapes in their introductory scene. They both spit said grapes out and make some similar comments, showing that they have similar ideals and mannerisms (even if it is just grapes we’re talking about). They both are associated with water. They both are on boats a lot. Riku is referred to as a pirate washed up on shore or lost, trying to find his ship, etc. All the characters (human and demon) refer to him as lord or -sama. Kyuki (a peril) knew him. He has a personal grudge against the perils. The perils serve Kirinmaru. They both have green eyes (not a human eye color in feudal era Japan or even modern day Japan). They both have red hair (same comment). Riku is clearly shown to have some control over the pearls or ability to use them that might possibly exist in tandem with other abilities he possesses.

Riku also kind of just revealed himself to be something other than human in Ep. 15 when he commented that 18 years passing was nothing to him as we see visibly that he has the same appearance in present day as he had the year that the cousins were born. Could be that he means time itself means nothing to him because he can travel through time but that’s still unclear. Conclusion is that Riku is Kirinmaru’s hanyo child as he’s clearly not human but does not appear to be full demon either and has obvious visual connections to both Kirinmaru and Zero.

BUT. Kirinmaru doesn’t appear to have any love of humans like his doggy counterparts. He practically looks like he’s about to have a stroke when he hears that Sesshomaru married a human and sired hanyo heirs. It’s hard to imagine that person has a hanyo child floating around who everyone is aware of. However, he does seem to be contemplating something beyond what Zero is telling him and if he does have a hanyo child then he could be realizing that he potentially created a being that will kill him.

Another thing that is bothering me is how Riku warned Kagome. Obviously everything about that and Riku himself is shady af and we have no idea what’s going on yet, but what’s interesting to me is that Kirinmaru doesn’t realize that hanyous are a threat to him until Zero points it out—which is months after the comet when Moroha is born. Of course, this is all assuming that the moment Kirinmaru is awoken by Zero comes after Moroha has been born and not before. It is possible that Zero awoke Kirinmaru immediately after the twins were born and that Kirinmaru spent some time plotting but that’s kind of illogical. Why wait to kill a child until after it’s born if you can just kill the mother? Which then makes it even more sus that Zero waits to wake him up and tell him this. It’s also sus how Zero warns Sesshomaru of the threat on his daughters’ lives (the threat she’s making) only to send Jokka after them as a pawn before biding her time until after Moroha is born to then conveniently and casually point out to her brother that all half and quarter demons are a threat to him.

Zero’s movements make little sense until we have a better understanding of what’s motivating her and why the timing of everything was so important. I’m not leaving the possibility of her betraying Kirinmaru off the table honestly. Something’s not right. I have this feeling that Kirinmaru is just being used. I know he’s still supposed to be the villain and he does try to kill the girls (eventually) but something is very wrong. And Zero’s comment that she expected Sesshomaru to protect his children with a barrier...if she expected that to happen then why didn’t she attack when it would have been unexpected? Why didn’t she try anything when Rin was still pregnant? Wouldn’t that be devastating to lose your wife and two unborn children? Why the cloak and dagger? It seems that she’s purposefully trying to pit Kirinmaru against Sesshomaru, but she’s also not hiding her hatred of Sesshomaru and his whole family either.

This episode kind of further reinforces the Riku is a time traveler theory because Riku knows Kagome is pregnant when she’s not even showing and he warns her about Kirinmaru although at this time Kirinmaru doesn’t even know hanyous are a threat. In fact, he seems confident that the InuTaisho’s sons took care of the comet. He shows no inclination of wanting Inuyasha dead.

But one thing that’s bothering me is just how shook Kirinmaru is that Sesshomaru has a human wife and hanyo babies. He’s shook shook. Like, blindsided. Everyone but Myoga so far has taken the news with little reaction (to be fair, we’re not sure how the OG gang felt but Kohaku wasn’t in utter disbelief as far as I remember). Maybe that’s just because he knew Sesshomaru for a long time and he really can’t believe it, but I have this feeling we saw his reaction being a bit overblown (and honestly, kind of undignified) for a reason. Something clearly went down between Zero, Toga, Sesshomaru’s mother, and possibly involving Sesshomaru as well. Kirinmaru seemed to have made peace with Toga and he doesn’t appear to be on adversarial terms with his son, but something is wrong. Everything feels very personal, like somehow Sesshomaru marrying a human and siring children with her is an insult to Kirinmaru personally. If he already knew about the hanyo threat by that point it would make sense but no dice, so then why.

Also, if Osamu Kirin is in fact Kirinmaru in human disguise, wouldn’t he save himself a lot of trouble by just killing Towa in the Reiwa period when he had the chance? It’s not like she was hiding her presence, she didn’t even know she was a hanyo. So if that theory is true, did he choose to leave her alone for a reason or has he suffered memory loss? We already know Kirinmaru in the fuedal era was a little off so it’s not a stretch.

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magicrowiswritingstuff · 4 years

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Batboys: Nicknames

Note: Wow, I’ve got followers now ... Hey, and thanks for reading my fics! :D Sadly, I don’t know how productive I can be for the next month or so because my finals will start next week ... but I definitely have some ideas and pieces planned so stay tuned. But for now only something short and sweet :3

Also, read this headcanon if you want to know what different personalities the s/os have.

_________________________________

Dick Grayson:

You two sometimes use names associated with dance styles and their region or decade of origin: "My Steady" when you two dance Rock n Roll. "Mi Amado/a" or "Cariño/a" for Cha-cha-cha, Jive and many more amazing Latin dances. "Schatz" or "Liebling" while dancing the waltz and so on and so on. But normally Dick uses "Dove" or "Lovebird" for you. Especially after he tells you about his alias because he thinks it is ironic and funny. Other nicknames he likes to use are "Sugar", "Littledancer" or "Ballerina" even though he is the one who can dance ballet like a professional who trained forever. You also often use "Lovebird" as a more serious nickname but also "BigBird" or "Mother Hen" after getting to know he is Nightwing because you also think it's funny. Or you call him by silly nicknames you make up at the moment. It often ends up with you just screwing up his name to annoy him. You like to call him "Richie" or "Dickard" though whenever you really want to tease him. After a while Dick ends up doing the same and it quickly escalates into a not so serious competition between you two about who can use the most bizarre and sickly sweet nickname. _________________________________ Jason Todd:

You don't know when it happened but you were sure Jason was the one who initiated it: Using the names of characters from books and movies for each other. He definitely calls you "Juliet" and you call him "Romeo". Or "Cinderella" and "Prince Charming". "Veronica" or just "Sawyer" and "JD" ... the list is endless. However, these names are often just used in private. More normal nicknames Jason likes to use are "Baby/Babe", "Sweetheart" and "Princess" because you definitely are his little princess and he likes to think about himself as your knight in shining armor. You think it fits, especially after he saved you as Red Hood, so you started calling him "My Knight" after that night whenever he calls you princess. Or you use "Princey". You also call him "Birdie" or "Jaybird" but most of the time you just like to call him "Jay". You also like to use "Softy" but he will glare at you whenever you use it in front of others. But that only eggs you on. When you two are teasing each other you like to call him "Hothead", "Hot Shot" or "Firefly" because he is definitely the fire to your ice. He thinks so too so he uses "Waterlily", "Polar Bear" or simply "(Bear) Cub" for you. _________________________________ Tim Drake:

Similar to Jason, Tim will definitely use characters' names as nicknames for you. Most of the time they're video game characters though. And as long as you know about the character you will respond with the respective counterpart. But you often end up using the wrong one because you sometimes just don't know better ... or you do it intentionally just to tease him. Or you just raise an eyebrow in question because you don't recognize the name of the character. When that happens you can bet that Tim will give you a whole presentation about said character and all the games they feature in. Characters you use are for example "Peach/Mario" though you preferably call him "Super Mario" than just "Mario" or "Luigi/Bowser" just to tease. But normally and especially when out in public you two use more default nicknames. He likes to call you "Angel" or "Cuddles". When you are particularly clingy and in need of hugs and cuddles from him he will call you "Cuddle Monster" and roll his eyes. Tough he would never deny you them. You on the other hand like to call him "Bebe/Babe", "Hun" or "Baby Bird". Names that are always lying on the back of your tongue are "Coffee Boy", "Brainiac/Brains" or "Genius". Sometimes they are used genuinely, other times just to tease. _________________________________ Damian Wayne:

Nothing other than "Beloved" will ever leave his lips. Well, when talking about romantic nicknames at least. Damian will definitely call you "Hothead", "Little Rebel", "Troublemaker" or simply "Trouble" whenever you are acting up or being reckless again. Or just because he wants to because you will look at him with an annoyed glint in your eyes that always makes him smile. You like to tease him with whatever nickname you can come up with or feel like. "Iceman" when he behaves stoic and strict or "Jelly Bean" when he acts tough and unfazed because you know there is a softy slumbering deep inside. Or you use that name when he wants to be taken seriously. "Feathers" or "Beak" are used after you figured out he is Robin but only in private. Romantic nicknames you like to use are "Love", "Charmer" or "Charming". But you also mess up his name with great delight when calling him. Or you just simply call him "Dami", "Dame" or "Dames". Something he thinks is really sweet though is when you research and learn Arabic words and phrases of endearment. The pronunciation is sometimes a little off but he gladly corrects and helps you when you want to learn more about the language.

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fauzhee10069 · 3 years

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JoJolion chapter 107 review (starring Higashikata Caato)

Why not? This chapter does star her.

We’re finally almost free from the crap of Caato’s hypes because she finally does something right now. This chapter is about her fight against Tooru and more about her character.

Previously related post:

The Long-Awaited Most-Hyped Character Finally Made Her Appearance: Caato

MAJOR SPOILER AHEAD!! Don’t read more if you haven’t read the newest chapter (107) yet and don’t want to get spoiled!

JJL chapter 107: Kaato Higashikata's "Attack"

First, I’d like to try her recipe.

Actually, the reason she is in Higashikata’s house right now is to deliver Jobin’s favorite dish made by her… what a lovely mother. Too bad, instead she found her son’s dead body.

This actually should debunk some Caatofags silly idea of her as an evil person who doesn’t really care about her family. When it looks like more about Jobin, I think she does care to her daughters as well when she asked them to stay in their place.

Also, the speculation of Tooru’s tricking Caato also got debunked, obviously because Yasuho is there to tell her about what was really going on.

Yasuho in this chapter mostly just explains anything happened and her explanation regarding rock-humans and New Locacaca is because she has no reason to assume that Caato already knows about these things.

I like how Caato looks calm when Tooru was pointing knife (more like saw I think) at her, those tears in her eyes are still tears of grief over Jobin’s death, not due to her fear.

read it from left to right -->

That really sounds like a villain speech and it is said by Tooru. At this point I’m getting even more conviced that he is the true main villain of part 8.

Caato then revealed her Stand, the name is 「Space Trucking」 and I have explained its newest mechanism in my other post, so I won’t go in depth in discussing her Stand here. In short, she uses her Stand to hide some of Tooru’s limbs to incapacitate him.

Apparently, the one who called her “K-Kaato-san” in the last page of previous chapter was Yasuho and Tooru also knows about her (Caato). Just like what Maako, the girlfriend of Ojiro said that the news about her murdering a child 15 years ago is a well-known sensational news in Morioh, so it is not surprising if several characters in JJL know her.

I like Caato’s composure and softness here, kinda reminds me of Jolyne… yeah, she has been compared to Jolyne numerous times, her intro in prison is definitely a Jolyne’s reference. Araki once said that Norisuke IV is the JJL version of Josuke in part 4, as his elder counterpart so, what if Caato is also the elder counterpart of Jolyne in JJL? That kinda makes sense.

Caato already knows about the New Locacaca and so, does this mean that Caato was hiding another pot of the New Locacaca?? Or is that the same pot that Tooru and Yasuho had been fighting for in previous chapters?

My guess is that it is the ‘same’ pot, look how the pot that Caato reveals does not have any fruit either. I think Caato is just playing with her Stand’s ability while talking about the New Locacaca or… perhaps, while she looks like she is playing, she actually manages to hide and steal a part of the plants(?)

Look, a flashback of Caato and Jobin! I think it officially becomes her trait to always barge in unannounced and startled whoever was in the room. They were in Jobin’s beetle collection room where he hid the New Locacaca there.

Look at the window that still looks intact there, then this flashback happened before the fight between Jobin-Tsurugi and Ojiro.

This is so wholesome this scene basically tells that no matter how old Jobin is he is still Caato’s baby.

Okay, I’m not into symbolization but now I want to talk about it just a moment, while this could be simply a JoJo thing that Jobin was wearing such impractical design for the sake of fashion, with that outfit he basically locked his own wrist which might symbolize of being handcuffed.

If you’re willing to take a look at the flashback scene in chapter 64, Jobin started wearing such outfit when he was a teenager right before Caato got caught by the police. Is this a form of Jobin's empathy for his mother who was in prison? Even though this symbolization is slightly missed because he was already wearing that outfit just before Caato got caught.

Told ya, the window still wasn't broken yet.

So, Jobin eventually told everything to his mom, about the New Locacaca, its equivalent exchange ability, the orchard burning and Tsurugi’s involvement.. and the most important thing that’s being revealed here is that the sap has the same power as the fruit! Those beetles show that we don’t necessarily need to have the fruit to get the effect of perfect equivalent exchange!!

Also, this actively debunk those wild theory of Caato being the mastermind of everything, she did not seem to possess any Locacaca before, she did not know the existence of the New Locacaca (and possibly about the rock-humans either), she did not know what truly happened during the orchard burning, she doesn't look like she is a secret rock-wahmen either, etc.

She is not as mighty as those Caatofags want her to be, however…

…her character remains consistent since the early of her introduction, that she actually had a conflicting view with Norisuke IV regarding the family’s ethic and moral value. This is about what we call “selflessness vs selfishness” again, and Caato’s view is more dominant in influencing Jobin.

Caato is not the mastermind controlling Jobin like a puppet like those Caatofags was promoting. Everything Jobin has done in this story is of his own will, starting from his cooperation with rock-humans, the struggle of the New Locacaca and the burning orchards. However, Jobin's way of thinking, motivation and ambition have been influenced by Caato's views and how she has nurtured him.

And in this chapter, Caato is being supportive towards Jobin like she had always been (read: chapter 59 and 64). Plus, Caato and Jobin’s Stand names being references to Deep Purple’s songs may signify their close relationship.

Looks like she just basically activated her Stand on the plant, it could be hidden whenever someone tried to come and get it but it wasn’t truly activated, at least that’s what the translation implies.

read it from right to left <---

「Wonder of U」 starts appearing behind Caato, does it mean that Caato really start harming Tooru? Another new feat of her Stand’s ability that it is able to fully hide a living being, which she uses to hide her grandson Tsurugi.

She makes Tooru to do equivalent exchange with dying Tsurugi while 「Wonder of U」is seen rushing towards Caato… end in cliffhanger. Probably my favorite page here. Basically, what Caato does is ‘two birds in one stone’ movement, breaking the Higashikata family’s curse by saving her grandson while eliminating Tooru.

And what could happen next?

My thought…

This chapter shows how awesome Caato truly is, starting from her soft side as a mother to her toughness against the enemy.

Araki is really doing her well, I thought there was no need to turn her into an antagonist with great power/influence or a silly plot twist that this unassuming grannie is the mastermind behind anything.

Caatofags had once described her as a mother who directs Jobin like a puppet and supervises Tooru as her subordinate whereas in reality, Araki has been portraying the three of them in a more balanced way rather than one being above anothers.

I really like her relationship with Jobin, I once said that they would make good partners if they were to be the final antagonists after Tooru, but sadly at this point I feel that Jobin is permanently dead.

There won’t be Yoshihiro-Yoshikage(like)’s cooperation against Josuke in this part… however, Caato continues to carry out her supportive role towards Jobin by trying to fulfill his main goal of curing Tsurugi and breaking the family curse.

Even so far, I haven't considered Caato as an antagonist, I still think of her as a 'wild card' for Josuke and Yasuho.

The mystery and next chapter prediction…

If this goes well, it looks like Caato's action in doing equivalent exchange to Tooru and Tsurugi will succeed in curing Tsurugi. The cracks on Tsurugi's face seemed to be diminishing. But with the 「Wonder of U」 following behind her, it shows that Caato's life too is in danger.

Then what will happen to the fully healed Tsurugi? Considering that the fusion happened to Josefumi and Kira does not make any of them 'alive' with their consciousness and instead creates a new consciousness we called “Josuke”, the new Tsurugi might not be the Tsurugi we know all along.

Besides, the equivalent exchange that happened on Tooru and Tsurugi is an exchange between rock-human and normal human and so far we still don't know what the effect will be. Will this be the answer to Tsurugi's weird behavior in the flashforward of chapter 83?

Then I also questioned about the harvest countdown of the New Locacaca in the flashforward, that in the previous chapter (106), the fruit in the pot was already gone. But in this chapter, there could be a possibility that Caato might hide the other parts of the plant (perhaps some branches) using her cards.

I think that there is starting to appear a slight hint linking the current events to the flashforward in chapter 83.

#jojolion spoilers #chapter review #kaato higashikata #tooru jojo #tsurugi higashikata #jobin higashikata #jjba part 8 #jojo's bizarre adventure #caato

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senjuushi · 3 years

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General headcanons for the new gun boys?

OwO I’ve had this ask waiting for a while, but.... here we go! Time for a little infodump of things I’ve thought of~ There are only a few that I can say are “general”, but I’ll try to go into detail!

Marks

• I... don’t have too many headcanons for him yet, aside from the fact that I’ll forever be calling this cutie “abuse bait”. So instead of a headcanon, y’all get a bit of character analysis. Marks is the only one of the moderns to have “Master” in his likes section. Even freaking Mauser doesn’t have “Ashley” there. This implies a level of attachment from this boy that’s both terrifying and so, so sweet. Marks is baby. He’s a good, good boy, and that trust and open adoration he has makes it so easy to abuse him... He really is abuse bait...

• But to try for a headcanon, well, here’s a simple one. Marks would do anything to please his Master. He’s a pushover. If he was attached enough to them (which he obviously is), they could tell him to lick their shoes and he’d barely hesitate. Master is his world, and all he wants is for them to be happy, so with a little convincing and manipulating... what does a good gun like Marks need with things like pride? His line about ‘wanting to be used by his Master’s hand” also makes me think that he’d seriously crave physical intimacy, which would be yet another manipulation point for him.

Like Two

• Despite his more abrasive nature and apparent dislike for his brothers, Like Two is a lot more like his equally-pink counterpart than either of them really want to think about. This is pretty obvious with the whole “muscle/strength training” thing that the two of them seem to be fond of, but it goes much deeper. Like Two tries to seem like he’s a tough, capable weapon who will tell anyone who tries to baby or look down on him to fuck off...

But the reality is that he has the same streak for wanting to be spoiled. And the same feminine tendencies. To put it simply, if you whispered in his ear that he’s your precious little princess, Like Two would blush and melt just the same as LIke2 would... he’d just be a lot more angry about it. And a lot more intent on trying to deny that his face is crimson and he can barely talk properly.

Arisaka

• I’ve said this one before, but his childlike body is the result of both trauma and the gun equivalent of failure to thrive. Arisaka is a Japanese gun who was used in WW2... he’s seen some shit. Not good stuff. And those things kind of fucked him up. I mean, we all can see how dead inside he looks. Just imagine how much trauma is lurking beneath the surface of those empty eyes.

Another point in favor of this is that, almost without fail, gun size corresponds to physical maturity in the boys. Smaller guns usually look more like children, while larger guns are more adult-like. Arisaka is the only one that I can think of who has a large gun but still looks so youthful. Between that and his extremely disturbing history, I headcanon that his human body is between 18-20 years old... just extremely stunted. He’s short, scrawny, and immature-looking because he was so traumatized as a weapon that he, like human children who suffer extreme circumstances, couldn’t grow and mature properly.

Herme

• My prevailing headcanon for Herme is that he has some serious identity issues. Namely, in his profile... he talks about how he and the other gun boys are exactly that-- guns. They’re made of metal, and there’s no need to treat them like humans. This clearly shows a disconnect between his human self and his existence as a weapon, but it also clashes with how he talks about his life’s history and family in much the same way that a human would. The way I see it, he’s got some strong conflict between a deeply-rooted view that he’s nothing but a gun and the innate humanity that he clearly can’t fully suppress.

• I’m probably going to have to fight canon on this one, but because of Herme’s polite, respectable, useful personality and his issues with seeing himself as anything but a tool, I’m firmly believing that he’s very submissive to his Master. Anyone who’s not Master? They get a capable, arrogant man who won’t hesitate to put those beneath him in his place. His Master? (Or perhaps even humans in general?) They get a polite, respectful, obedient tool who fulfills every order to the best of his ability-- no matter if it hurts him. There’s a war in this man between being a weapon and his own ego, and the side of him that knows to be good is winning.

Springfield

• It’s barely even a headcanon at this point, but I see him as very physically weak and fragile. This covers the obvious (frail health, weak body, constant fatigue and bouts of illness), of course, but it also extends to other things. To give a ridiculously specific example, I see this Springy as having very, very sensitive skin. As in, he bruises easily and badly, it's easy to break his skin, even light scratches leave temporary marks, and he's overall very sensitive to touch. There’s also the possibility that he has scarring/damage to his human body because of what we can see on his gun... and those areas might be even more delicate than the rest of him.

• Another one that I’ll probably have to fight canon over, but I strongly doubt that other moderns would like him very well. He’s not a real modern gun. He’s just an antique who’s trying too hard. He’s weak and useless anyway, so it would be an embarrassment to even consider him to be one. Those things would be in Springfield’s head at the very least... and it’s likely that some of them would have been used against him too.

Siegblut

• Honestly, most of what I’m getting from him so far is that the core of his personality is overcompensation. I mean, the whore has big shoes to fill. He’s Herme’s successor. That’s a lot to live up to. Siegblut (ha, I used his actual name for once) probably has a ton of issues when it comes to wanting to be something he’s not. So what if his whole deal is being good enough? It would explain why he’s trying so hard to look like a tough guy.

• And on that note... he’s a fucking housewife. I will take no argument. And I’m not sure if he hides that kind of thing yet... but just imagine how cute it would be to tease him over how domestic he can be. Maybe if he likes homemaking so much, you should just take him off the battlefield and make him your wife, hm? It might suit him better than trying to live up to Herme like he has been for so long. He’s just way too easy to bully lmao.

#Marks #Like Two #Arisaka #Herme #Springfield #Siegblut #Headcanon

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sweetest-honeybee · 4 years

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To Hell and Back

Chapter 19

Summary: Hels and Wels get a bit of an examination, there’s a sappy apology, and Evil X accidentally confesses his love for Hels.

Characters: Helsknight, Welsknight, Evil Xisuma, Xisuma, Beef, Doc, and Tango

TW: None I think

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Beef certainly wasn’t expecting Wels to look so...different already. When Doc landed and practically threw the knight into one of the back corners of the room, Wels glared at him through the wool with blood red snake eyes. Doc removed the cloth around his mouth. Wels grinned evilly at Beef, showing off a pair of fangs and licked them slowly.

“Hey, Beef, you gonna make me a little angel again?” He batted his eyelashes at the butcher. “Wouldn’t want me getting loose, huh?” He wriggled in his place on the floor while Doc tied his ankles together.

“He’s changing at a much faster pace than Hels is. That was so….sudden,” Beef observed.

“Yeah, where’s Hels, anyways?” Doc asked, noticing how the dark knight wasn’t on the table. Beef snickered, briefly distracted by the question from Wels’s current state.

“Went outside to play with the piglets. I made a pen out back a few days ago and the dude is obsessed with them apparently.”

“Ooo, sounds like someone plans on making bacon later,” Wels stated from the corner. The creeper gifted his teeth.

“Keep talking and your dinner will be more wool. Don’t think I won’t clock you too. Xisuma’s strong but he’s not mutant,” Doc replied without turning to look over his shoulder at Wels. Beef stared at Doc with wide eyes.

“Xisuma punched him?!”

The creeper shrugged. “Wels seems to know how to push his buttons. Got him right in the jaw twice and Evil Xisuma had to keep him to doing it again,” he chuckled.

“I- Okay then. Where’s Xisuma? I thought he was coming with Tango and Evil Xisuma.”

Doc rubbed his neck. “Xisuma must’ve gotten overwhelmed or something, I don’t know. He looked like he was gonna pass out so I just brought Wels here and had the other two take care of that.” Their communicators buzzed, catching their attention. Beef hummed.

“Speaking of the devil, here he comes.”

As if on cue, Xisuma, Tango and Ex landed in front of the doorway. As they walked in, Tango and Xisuma marveled at the cloning machine. Or well, whatever it was. They didn’t imagine Beef wanted more clones running around possibly causing more problems like this. Nonetheless, the machine in the center of the room was one crazy looking contraption.

“Hey guys!” Greeted Beef. “Hels is out back and Wels is in the corner over-“ Beef turned, now noticing how long the silence was lasting. As Beef looked, he didn’t find the knight in the corner. “Oh no.”

The others peered around the machine where Doc and Beef were searching. Only was it when Beef walked out the suspiciously ajar back door, did he find Wels completely free of his ropes in the small pig pen with Hels.

“Wels, how did you-“ Beef was interrupted by the loud squeak erupting from one of the piglets. Wels had one of them held in his arms with a grin.

“I didn’t know you had a pig pen over here! Look how cute the baby pigs are,” the knight cooed. Somehow he was even fine with Hels sitting next to him as well. Both held and petted the babies happily.

Now Beef was confused. Very confused. He stepped back inside, not even knowing how to behind to describe what had happened. He wasn’t even sure how Wels managed to get out of the ropes, let alone explain how his personality completely reversed from his previously sadistic self. Perhaps he only switched back and forth rather than being completely evil in the span of three days.

“He- He’s playing with the pigs. He’s in the pen with Hels and they’re playing with pigs.” The butcher rubbed the bridge of his nose. “His entire personality just did a full 180, too.”

The other three made their own confused expressions. Evil Xisuma, surprisingly to the other two, spoke up.

“That’s not surprising. When I found him he was freaking out about nearly killing Tango. Didn’t seem very evil to me.”

“So it’s not constant then….” Doc added. “That’s odd. Hels is going through such a slow, but much more constant change from what I’ve noticed.”

“Yeah he’s been at it with the pigs for over an hour now,” interjected Beef. “No signs of changing anytime soon.”

“Exactly, but Wels is full on Jekyll and Hyde. And the switch is much more apparent and more aggressive. Hels doesn’t do more than crack a few jokes and play with the animals,” Doc continued. “I wonder why that is….” he thought aloud.

Ex also added an important point. “He said he didn’t know what had happened. Like he didn’t remember anything.”

At those observations, Tango suddenly felt guilty for what he said prior. Though not as guilty as Xisuma still was. The poor guy was still hesitant about speaking up about the situation. He simply watched as the others discussed. That was until Beef brought it up.

“Right right. Well, we need to get going with this stuff. I was gonna have Suma try to slap in some commands but….” he turned his head to the admin. “I think that’ll wait. Punching Wels over and over is probably just gonna make it worse after he’s already provoked.” He eyed Xisuma pointedly.

Xisuma shuffled sheepishly, feeling the other pairs of eyes on him. “Alright,” he agreed. “But if he’s threatening anyone, I’m interfering.”

Ex chuckled. “No you’re not.” X glared at him, but rolled his eyes. If he was going to try anything, Ex would just hold him back again. Not what he preferred by any means, but nobody was getting hurt at least. He’d rather not keep punching his friends in the face.

Beef clapped his hands together. “Alright! Let’s get on with this, shall we?” The rest nodded in unison. “Great! Evil X, go retrieve the boys and the rest of us will start on some kind of analysis.” With a nod from the evil counterpart, the others split up for their tasks and Xisuma stepped outside.

As Ex walked out back, he couldn’t help but to awe at the knights happily playing with the piglets. Hels especially, even if it was only because of whatever was happening to the two. It was too overbearingly cute to see the usually hateful and malicious knight pull the baby pig up to his face, only to laugh when it licked his nose.

Sadly, Ex had to stop their activities. “Alright, that’s adorable, but we’ve gotta do some tests on ya’.” He pulled the piglets from the two and made a gesture for them to stand while he closed the pen. They followed his directions with little to no hesitation, which he personally found odd considering Wels’s previous mood, but again, he had another one of his mental switches.

Not to mention the fact that Wels was perfectly fine with being around Hels, let alone barely three feet apart behind the fence gate. The knight even would grab some of the pigs and show his counterpart, usually pointing out how some had little brown spots or that some of them weren’t actually pink with awe. It really was interesting. That only made him wonder if Wels had been doing this a couple weeks ago and the Hermits just happened to meet up with him while he was in his happier state of mind, and also somehow avoiding provoking him into lashing out again.

As they made their way back inside, Beef had the two sit on two tables sat far across the room from each other, Wels’s little table surrounded by iron bars and an iron door for the access to get inside. Visibly, everyone saw the knight grimace at his setup and pulled their hands to the hilts of their swords in case a Wels was to throw another tantrum.

But he didn’t. With a worried expression and a shake of his head as if to block off the ever growing hateful thoughts, he walked inside the cage and sat down. Hels on the other hand didn’t have precaution of any type, really. Just a stone table held up on fence posts which he gladly sat on much to Ex’s personal dismay. Oddly, he missed how rude Hels used to be. He was more confident, stronger, and for some reason, Ex weirdly admired his hateful personality. He loved it better when the knight would throw offhand insults jokingly and ask questions about how the over world worked. Even if he wanted to destroy the Hermitcraft server, but Ex knew he could prevent that himself.

Now, the used-to-be dark knight was now swinging his legs back and forth while he sat on the table like a child. Ex couldn’t help but to stifle a laugh at that.

“Alright, Doc, you take Hels, I’ll take Wels. Just poke around, ask some questions if you need to, write down the current changes. I can probably give a good estimate on how long they have before they’ve completely swapped,” Beef explained. “I’m not exactly an expert on this whole thing but I did make the machine after all.”

With a nod from the creeper, the butcher pulled a lever on the side of the room, making glass panes lifted from the floor to separate both parties from each other. Ex stayed on Hels’s side with Doc while Tango stood with Beef and Wels.

For a few minutes, the room was fairly silent minus the occasional “Open your mouth” or “Can you show me your hands”. Tango and Ex watched as the men observed the knights, carefully trying to not provoke either of them into a sudden change in personality. Though Hels still interestingly kept a quite calm and happy demeanor and followed his directions with no hesitation.

Wels on the other hand? Beef felt like he was walking on eggshells. He was closed into the little cage with Wels with enchanted diamond armor- though no sword- and worrying he’d set him off with a jab to the wrong part of his body or the wrong request. However, Wels followed his directions as well, but much sadder than his counterpart. He decided to speak up.

“I’m sorry.”

Beef looked up while the others in the room also turned. “What was that?”

“I said I’m sorry.”

“Wels, you weren't in control of that,” the butcher replied with a sigh. “You have nothing to say sorry for.”

Wels begged to differ. “I do, Beef. And I don’t know what’s happening and it’s….terrifying not being able to control the outbursts, but just know that….I’m sorry, Tango. For hurting you.” Wels peeked around the butcher and peered outside, speaking to Xisuma. “And I’m sorry for whatever I did to you. I don’t know what I did but I heard from outside that I’ve done something to you and I’m very sorry.”

Everyone became silent at his apology. Really, if anything, it made some of them feel worse like the admin outside the building. But still, they accepted his apology happily.

“That was the sappiest apology I’ve ever heard.” Everyone turned their attention to Hels who stared down the other knight with a smirk. “Seriously, you didn’t have to go on about it. I’m sure they already know.”

With a burst of excitement, Ex pulled Hels into yet another spine crushing hug which he reciprocated by patting the other on the back awkwardly. Ex didn’t mind, however, and pulled away with a smile.

“You’re still in there!”

Hels eyed him curiously. “Uh, yes? Is something wrong with you or what?” He peeked around Ex. “Is something wrong with him?”

Ex simply laughed. “No, no, I just….missed how rude you were? That actually sounds odd when you say it out loud.” Nonetheless, the others got the gist. They smiled as well.

“Also what was he apologizing for anyways? Tango doesn’t look injured in the slightest,” asked Hels. He eyed the demon. “But I can change that.” Tango shifted uncomfortably.

Beef rolled his eyes. “There’s the Hels I expected. Be nice, bud. He’s been through a lot today already.” As if to try to seem like some kind of authority, the butcher put his hands on his hips which only earned a laugh from the others. Though, his statement still stood.

“Pfft, alright ‘dad’, whatever you say,” the knight replied sarcastically. That only brought a flush across Beef’s face and wide eyes.

“I uh- okay then,” he stammered. “Well still, just….be as nice as you’re able to.”

With that, the men continued on their examinations, now with more uplifted spirit. Beef could easily point out how oddly pointed Wels’s ears were, how much sharper his canines were becoming, and how dark of a blue his irises were- much to Doc’s frustration. The creeper couldn’t seem to point out any significant changes to the other knight. Nothing more than shorter, but still pointed ears and less of the red scales dotted over his cheeks. He hadn’t seen Hels in person enough to see anything too obvious.

Ex decided to butt in Doc’s examination. Easily, the counterpart could point out that Hels’s eyes were no longer slitted pupils, how much shorter his nails were as opposed to his previous claws. He confirmed the lack of the scales and the ears easily, and how Hels’s own fangs weren’t as long, nor as sharp, as they used to be.

“His hair is lighter, I think,” Ex added, finally. All of his observations brought Doc’s jaw to the floor. Hels mirrored his expression as well.

“You….really pay attention that much?” Hels asked slowly.

“Just need something to do when I’m with you. You’re very different from Wels. You’re taller, for some reason. Your tail is about five feet long, your pupils grow when you’re looking at something you’re interested in, and you always sneeze two times around the oxy daisies,” Ex listed.

Even Tango was gobsmacked by the amount of details. “You just happen to notice those things?! Yeesh, if I didn’t know better I’d say you liked him.”

“Well, yeah I like Hels a lot! He’s my friend, I think?” Ex turned to Hels. “Hey, are we friends?”

Hels just shrugged. “With that much random information, might as well be. Don’t get your hopes up, I’ll just complain the whole time.” Ex grinned in response.

Yet, Tango shook his head with a laugh. “Not what I meant, but I guess that works, too.”

Ex had to think for a moment about what the demon meant before his eyes widened. “Oh! You mean romantically, don’t you?” The counterpart laughed nervously, a flush creeping across his cheeks but it wasn’t too noticeable to the others. “Well, I mean Xisuma had to explain that to me. I suppose that’s a yes to that.”

From outside, they all heard a bark of laughter, quite obviously belonging to their admin.

#my fic #to hell and back #xisuma #vintagebeef #tangotek #docm77 #welsknight #helsknight #evil xisuma #helsknight x evil xisuma #hels x ex #long post

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puttingfingerstokeys · 4 years

Text

heart and fire

I had to fuck with italics on this thing ‘cause holy shit are they important.

Thermodynamic equilibrium (subscorp), uh, post-aftermath on the fucked up timeline. I want nice things so I’m going to give Kuai Liang nice things....... sort of! Gay ninja ahead (and prolly behind, too, lbr they’re ninja)

For @sxvethelastdance, my Heart

Bonus “chapter” here.

Broken Timeline

It has been two months, my Fire, since I returned to Netherrealm to recover your body. We sought to reclaim the fallen from both our clans, with limited success. Your younger counterpart showed me the place where D’vorah stole you from me. I swear vengeance upon her, should she ever have the misfortune of crossing my path.

Frost was among those we were able to locate and she is recovering at Arctika, though she will not speak to anyone. She threatened to throw herself into the Sea of Blood upon discovery, but that fate was not worthy of a Lin Kuei—even a traitor. I should have written sooner, but my duties have taken me from the pen and solitude.

You will be pleased to know that Takeda Takahashi has resigned his post with Special Forces to assume interim leadership of the Shirai-Ryu. The boy is well-trained and wise; he does not fill your boots, but he is humble and willing to learn. No member of the Shirai-Ryu can best him. You have taught him well.

He has married Jacqueline Briggs—it was a quiet ceremony soon after we returned from the assault on Kronika’s keep—and they are now expecting a child. . Takeda came to me recently and asked if I thought it appropriate to call the boy Hanzo, assuming it is a boy. I think it is only right that someone carries your name. I will always carry it in my heart, but it will be good to hear aloud.

I miss you.

“Takeda, thank you for meeting me.” The two ninja stood outside the Fire Gardens, just beyond the gate, Kuai Liang looking in, but making no move to enter.

“It’s always a pleasure, Grandmaster Sub-Zero,” said the younger man, putting a flat, open hand over his fist and bowing. “What brings you here?” He glanced up and down at the Lin Kuei Grandmaster and, noting the envelope in one hand, he gestured toward it, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“This—you’ve seen through me—is for… if you might place it at Grandmaster Hasashi’s resting place, I would be—”

“I will not,” came the quick reply. It wasn’t sharp, but it was firm. “You will.”

“But I am—”

“Welcome in the Fire Gardens, Grandmaster, as are your students; it is a step Grandmaster Hasashi would have taken and I… I am only interim instructor, but I will honor his legacy, no matter what.” He saluted the Lin Kuei once more, this time bowing deeply and gesturing toward the entrance. “I’ll show you where he’s… where we’ve got a marker.”

There was, of course, no body to bury, but that would have been the way of the Shirai-Ryu anyway. It was to Sub-Zero’s shame that he had brought them no corpse, and his own eternal agony that he did not at least have one last chance to… I never told him, not really, not properly. Leaves fell all around them, red and gold, perpetually in motion, making the place resemble its name. It is cold without you.

“It’s in a quiet corner,” Takeda said, trying to fill the pregnant silence between them. His fellow Shirai-Ryu were all around, if unseen. None of them raised a hand or weapon to Grandmaster Kuai Liang, however. They, for the most part, were in favor of uniting once more with their ancestral brethren. Those who were not, kept it to themselves and would rather not have begun a spat with Sub-Zero. “Near a koi pond… I think you’ll like it.”

Sub-Zero made no move to answer as the path twisted once more to the left and opened to a beautiful grotto. There was, indeed, a pond, but Takeda had neglected to mention the green foliage, bright red and orange flowers, and the waterfall, babbling over several layers of stones before emptying into the pond. The fish swam this way and that, utterly unaware of the world around them. Kuai Liang envied them.

To one side was a pillar, an obelisk that looked like it was made of volcanic glass. Atop it was a small brazier and in that, a flame danced this way and that, an ethereal quality to its rhythm. There was an inscription upon the pillar itself, but Sub-Zero’s gaze was lost in the flame almost immediately, arresting every bit of his attention.

“Yeah, I get that too when I come here… Liu Kang—err… Lord Liu Kang lit that sucker and… well, it’s god fire, so it’s not goin’ out.” Takeda was receding from the grotto. “I’ll just… leave you two, yeah?” He did not wait for an answer before melting into the fire-colored foliage of the Gardens.

Kuai Liang clutched the envelope, hard, wrinkling it in his effort to bite back tears and swallow down the choking lump that was rising in his throat. His heart twisted and ached as he dropped to one knee before the pillar. The inscription was simple: Grandmaster Hanzo Hasashi, eternal flame of the Shirai-Ryu; you will never be forgotten. There was so much more about him that Kuai Liang wanted to add, but there was not enough obsidian in the world for that.

He settled himself presently, then, closing his eyes and focusing inward, clearing his mind, breathing softly, deeply. Reaching out, he laid one hand upon the small obelisk, feeling where each word was carved, imagining he could also feel heat coming from it. That was silly, of course, but it comforted him. He stayed that way for a while, before opening his eyes once more and standing, still holding the envelope.

The grandmaster’s sharp gaze fell upon that fire and slowly, reverently, he lifted the envelope and letter to it. The fire licked up and around it, consuming the paper with little effort until there was nothing but ash. It wasn’t the words themselves, but the sentiment behind them which counted for the ears of the dead.

He left silently and with dignity, letting not a single, chilly tear fall until he returned to Arctika and his private quarters.

My fire. It has been one year since my last letter. Forgive my waiting so long. It was difficult to find time and then, to begin. The snow here seems deeper than it ever has and harder to move through; it no longer feels a part of me and I am cold. But you need not suffer the chill with me.

Hanzo Briggs-Takahashi is a robust boy even at one year old. There seems to be some debate over his education, but for now, he lives happily with his mother and father among the Shirai-Ryu. They have determined this to be the best course of action until everything has settled to an acceptable level of disorder.

I neglected to mention in my last letter that Liu Kang has, with the aid of Lord Raiden, ascended to divinity. He is a worthy young man and I feel confident in his abilities to guide the shifting of the sands of time. I wish you had been there to see him lead the armies of Outworld and Earthrealm against Kronika. But maybe those memories are with you now that your past self has been sent back to his proper time.

I will never stop missing you, but writing eases the pain a little.

The letters continued, as frequently as he could manage, for years. It felt like centuries. His favorite time to write was when despair was upon him, because writing to his lost love reminded him that he was not simply living for himself, but for Hanzo’s dream and memory. He did not remember all the words he had written, and no one else would ever read them, but they were not for anyone else, so it did not matter.

You will be pleased, my Fire, to know that the Takahashi family has expanded once more, by one. Their daughter, Sonya, was born yesterday morning, healthy and squalling like a storm. I think her name is appropriate. Johnny and Cassie Cage will be arriving at the Fire Gardens later this week, I am told, to greet the child and spend some time with Jacqueline and Takeda. I will deliver this letter then.

I cannot believe it has been four years since I last laid eyes and lips upon you. I miss your taste, your warmth. My heart aches daily for you, but the ache eases when I write and remember you as you were, vibrant and powerful, the light of my life, and the warmth. Worry not. The warmth has not utterly deserted me. I see in Takeda’s boy much of your spirit, and I visit the Fire Gardens often, with Takeda’s gracious permission.

We are moving forward, slowly, with the integration training. Twice per year, we stay at the other’s residence, with all our students, working together. Frost is still a tough case, but I think her loss to Takeda recently might have tempered her cold fire. Defeat does not settle well upon the shoulders of any Lin Kuei, but taking it with grace is a learned art. She has not learned this; I must educate her.

I love you with all my heart and soul.

This one, he did indeed deliver when he visited the Fire Gardens to see the new baby. Sonya was even prettier than her brother had been and he was delighted to hold her in his great, chilly arms. Dark eyes stared up at him with a depth of understanding he could not have predicted from an infant. Gripping his finger with one tiny hand, she squealed with delight and flailed her limbs as he looked on with aching fondness.

“Isn’t she perfect?” Takeda asked Sub-Zero as he handed the little creature back to her mother. Jacqui was glowing and Kuai Liang was not clear if he meant the child or the mother. Instead, he nodded. He did not stay long, but it was refreshing to his soul to see the people of this ruined timeline picking themselves back up and making the best of their situation.

My Fire, you will scarcely believe the strangeness which has happened here at Arctika. Our hot springs have begun to run far too hot to bathe in, or even to touch! The minerals are beginning to build up on the walls in the grotto and I must send students out, daily, to address this. They are hard at work, “building character”, Frost included. She seems to set about the task with the most vigor, as if the buildup offends her. Perhaps it does. Arctika, this place she fought so hard to be in, has recently been invaded by your Shirai-Ryu and they too have set about the task—of cleaning the grotto, not offending Frost; she does that well enough on her own.

I would like, more than anything, to once more share tea and to bathe with you. That intimacy is long gone from my flesh and I often crave it—not as you did, of course. I find myself almost blushing at the thought. Almost. I miss your eyes, so dark and intense, it was always as if you were looking into me, boring in deep and searching… for what, I cannot guess, but I wish you would do it again.

Yours forever, Grandmaster Hasashi, forever and a day and then forever again.

Even a skilled kryomancer stood no chance against the heat of the springs, and so it, too, became a training ground for the combined forces of the Lin Kuei and Shirai-Ryu. Takeda and Grandmaster Kuai Liang often went out to the springs to breathe in the healing steam and to speak. They talked of much—of history and the future—and deepened their understanding of each other.

“He would have wanted you to take his place,” Sub-Zero said, “once you’d proven yourself, of course.”

Takeda’s eyes flew wide. “Never in a million years, Grandmaster; are you kidding me?” His cheeks were flushed with exhilaration at the weight of the compliment he’d just been paid by the Lin Kuei’s leader. “I don’t… I’m not ready for that.”

“And that is why you are. A good Grandmaster knows his limitations.” Kuai Liang did not look at Takeda, an envelope clutched in his hand.

“Will you be joining us on the journey back to the Fire Gardens tomorrow, Grandmaster?”

“I will, with your permission, Takeda,” replied Sub-Zero, contemplating the boiling water. Of course, Takeda would not refuse, so the question was more of a formality than anything else. There were certain parts of tradition to which Takeda had noticed the Lin Kuei Grandmaster held strictly, and others he had thrown utterly out the window. The first one was, of course, his adoration of Grandmaster Hasashi, which Takeda had long ago suspected was more than academic friendship or alliance. It was a suspicion he would, naturally, never pursue.

The two men stood, side by side, arms folded, considering everything they had done in the past five years, all the progress they had made. The Shirai-Ryu were really and truly restored, standing upon the shoulders of Scorpion’s hard work. The Lin Kuei were even recovering and their number had increased, though they were still a shell of what they had been. Only a few of the cyber assassins had been recoverable at the Sea of Blood and of those, even fewer had retained their sanity after they had been reset—such was their grief at the injustice they had wrought on Frost’s behalf.

Kuai Liang was not sure she would ever show appropriate remorse, but he decided she was not a lost cause. He would keep working on her, like a glacier carves a lake. The movement was slow but inexorable. Eventually, she would see and she would learn. Even one so stubborn as she could be taught, he was certain. His resolve would not be broken by one such as Frost.

“…does it seem hotter, Grandmaster?” Takeda’s voice was muffled, suddenly, by the amount of steam suddenly filling the air of the grotto. Sub-Zero’s eyes narrowed as he peered through the haze, as if doing so could discern the source of the disturbance.

“It is,” he confirmed, “but… why?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it,” Takeda growled, reaching out toward Sub-Zero. “Go,” he grunted, “grab some of your students—the cyber Lin Kuei should be able to see through this fog!”

Sub-Zero could not deny the logic of this, but he disliked leaving Takeda. There was an ill-omened heaviness in the air all of a sudden he was not entirely sure was the steam or the mineral smells which came with it. There was a loud, violent hiss and a jet of water, then, from the center of the springs and both men would have been pelted with stinging droplets had it not been for Kuai Liang’s hastily built ice wall and the quick thinking to tug Takeda behind it.

Neither kombatant was expecting something wickedly sharp and hot to pierce the center of the wall directly between their heads. The heat of it caused the rest of the structure to begin cracking and both men dived to either side to avoid its collapse. The familiar, discordant song of a retracting chain rang out in the steamy half-gloom, the light of torches now obscured and throwing strange shadows, diffused through the steam.

Quan-Chi.

Both minds settled upon this conclusion simultaneously, though without having spoken it. Takeda jumped to his feat and readied himself. Whatever Neatherrealm incursion this was, it would be met with extreme prejudice. Neither knew precisely where Quan-Chi might have fallen in the scheme of things. He had met his end by Scorpion’s hand, but that did not mean some shift in the mythical sands of time had not restored him—utterly by accident, of course, but it was a mistake which would require swift correction.

Of course, as far as they knew, only Hanzo Hasashi had ever mastered the chain and spear to that extent, so Quan-Chi himself could not possibly have been on the other end of it. Kuai Liang’s mind was racing. Was that why he had not found his lover’s body? Could Quan-Chi have been accidentally restored and had begun his machinations, once more, to hold the throne of Netherrealm for his infernal (decapitated) master?

The very idea of a wraith bearing his Fire’s face settled deep in the pit of Kuai Liang’s guts, twisting into a dragon of rage, ripping at his insides and gripping his heart violently. He was as close to burning with rage as a Lin Kuei could be.

“Takeda,” he snarled, “go. I will deal with this abomination.”

For once, Takeda Takahashi did not argue. He did not resolve to stay gone, however. He raced toward the grotto’s exit, intent on making his way swiftly down the side of the mountain to the Arctika complex and alerting every ninja in its walls that they were under attack. Takeda had almost reached the divide between grotto and open mountain face when the horrific echo of clear words rang out seemingly from everywhere.

“GET OVER HERE!” The chain sang through the air and Takeda whirled, moving to block or to face his demise. Only Sub-Zero’s swift motion stopped it hitting home as the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei caught the barb in an icy grip and crushed it, shaking the remains free from his hand as if it were a mere inconvenience.

“Go,” he repeated and stalked toward the springs. All around him, steam turned to ice and fell to the ground like heavy sleet. As his rage built, the temperature dropped and soon there was an aura of cold surrounding him, combatting the steam. Diamond tears fell from eyes which had hardened to flinty slits as he stepped past the edge of the springs, into—no, onto—the water, which was freezing solid under each step.

“Why don’t you get over here for a change,” snarled Sub-Zero, “and show me that face you’re wearing—the face you have not earned, Revenant!”

“Revenant?” The voice was a raspy bark. Following the word was laughter. Sub-Zero concentrated on solidifying the water particles around him to create a solid barrier that would be just a little more difficult for his assailant to pierce. He had not forgotten that, in later years, Scorpion had begun to carry—and proficiently use—two spear chains. The latter would come soon enough.

“You are a puppet of Quan-Chi, unworthy of the body you inhabit. Come, face me, and see the truth of your fallibility!” Kuai Liang drew himself up and stood tall, continuing. “Yours is the fire of hell, not of his heart, a thing so great you could not begin to comprehend it, much less mimic—but again, I invite you to come and allow me to demonstrate. It will be a pleasure.”

Sub-Zero had anticipated the spear.

He had not counted on Hellport, which Scorpion used with impunity.

Suddenly, the heat behind him was unbearable and there was a piercing agony ripping into his senses, starting at his shoulder, between the joint and the scapula. He could feel it digging deep, feel the lukewarm sensation of his own blood flowing down his back. He had to act.

Kuai Liang whirled on the revenant, ice axe at the ready. He would cleave the beast’s head from its shoulders, no matter how twisted the visage was. Red eyes would meet his a moment, before falling from broad, strong shoulders Sub-Zero knew all to well.

Except that they were not.

They eyes were white. With the turn, Scorpion’s hand and arm had been yanked—refusing to let go, oh, that old tenacity was strong—around Kuai Liang’s back and had, in that motion, drawn his body closer until they were flush, touching, pressed together. Sub-Zero’s arm was falling, axe in hand and, though he would have stopped it, Scorpion’s grip upon his wrist halted the descent entirely.

The fingers upon Sub-Zero’s wrist were burning, as with a fever, and they eyes he met were ablaze with madness and fury. The brow knitted together at the bridge of the man’s nose was familiar, however, the grimace on his blood-soaked, lacerated face not unknown to Kuai Liang, either. Inches apart, this could have been a lover’s embrace, but for the spearhead embedded in his shoulder and the fiery grip locked upon his arm.

Vaporizing with a hiss, Kuai Liang’s faithful ice axe bowed out of the fight and he was left with no weapon—no external weapon, anyway. He leveraged his height advantage against Scorpion and drove him back twisting his arm to reverse the grip and grab him instead, forcing him yet closer. The ice under their feet was slick and filling the frozen dome with steam. Sub-Zero began to feel lightheaded.

He would have to end this quickly, or Scorpion would gut him and the water of the hot springs would run red with the Grandmaster’s blood. That he was not facing a revenant was secondary in his mind to survival. He knew all of Scorpion’s movements, every trick and feint. Unfortunately, Scorpion also knew his, intimately. If they broke apart, the brawl might draw itself out and in this heat, Sub-Zero was already feeling sluggish.

Wrapping both arms tightly around Scorpion’s body, then, forcing the arm he had trapped up behind the shorter mans’ back, he began to squeeze, dropping his temperature with as much rapidity as he could muster. His mind was racing, thoughts flowing as if down the choppy, white waters of a sub-arctic stream just after thaw and just as insubstantial, uncatchable. He had to stop the man’s movement.

Scorpion fought hard against the grip, snapping at Sub-Zero with his teeth. He would have landed a successful headbutt were it not for their difference in height and Kuai Liang tucking his head into the crook of Scorpion’s neck. Scorpion tensed, ceasing his thrashing for the briefest of interludes as Sub-Zero’s chilly, gentle lips pressed downward on scorched flesh. Rather than the bite the enraged wraith had been expecting, he only felt the sensual, gentle touch of the man’s mouth.

“I know what you are,” whispered Kuai Liang against his lover’s flesh, gripping him tight and slowing the descent of the temperature. Scorpion’s thrashing had all but ceased as he was literally cooled down from his agitated state. Beneath them, the water which had been upon the ice solidified as Scorpion finally went limp, succumbing to the cold.

“A wraith once more.” The whisper was barely audible. Only Sub-Zero could hear these words, spoken so softly. He was bent over Scorpion, who had gone nearly boneless in his embrace, barely clinging to consciousness, but doing so with such tenacity it might have, under other circumstances, been frightening.

“No,” said Sub-Zero, standing, straightening, and lifting Scorpion bodily into his arms. The naked wraith leaned against his chest, closing those unsettling, white eyes as the temperature began to stabilize and Kuai Liang stepped gracefully off the ice and onto solid ground. Steam rose once more from the Lin Kuei hot springs, but they did not boil. “You are my Fire, and you have come back to me.”

“Amusing,” grunted Hanzo Hasashi weakly, reaching up to swat the side of Kuai Liang’s bearded face, “that you thought death would free you of me, my Heart.”

Upon the warm water, an envelope floated, forgotten, soaking, ink running.

#cc #cw #mortal kombat #subscorp #thermodynamic equilibrium #Sub-Zero #scorpion #hanzo hasashi #kuai liang

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