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snicketstrange · 3 years

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Rereading The Chapter 14 (The End)

I believed that in ASOUE's universe, chapter 14 was apparently written some time after the rest of the book. But I abandoned that idea. Lemony wrote to the editor that chapter 14 could be found at the end of the same manuscript.

We then have the epigraph of Le Voyage. It's an excerpt that portrays the moment of death, and perhaps the acceptance of death. But I don't think this means that Lemony is completely certain of the Baudelaires' death. I think it means he's pretty sure he won't write about the Baudelaires anymore. I think the right question is "why did Lemony decide to stop writing at this point in the story?" "Why did he plan to write more and then stop writing?" I think Lemony didn't promise to write the entire story of the Baudelaires. He promised to write the story of the conflict between the Baudelaires and Olaf. So when he was sure of Olaf's death, and that was only with the additional information he had probably had access to through Beatrice Jr, Lemony realized that the research might be over. The certainty of Olaf's death was the event he determined when the narrative came to an end. So, it makes us wonder what kind of promise Lemony made. Apparently he promised that he would clarify the facts surrounding the charges the Baudelaires went through, as well as the contexts in which these events took place. That's why it was so important to get this information out to the general public. Because it involved the honor of the Baudelaire family. Furthermore, this explains why he could not rely solely on the account given by the Baudelaires themselves: after all, they were being accused of being lying criminals. Lemony needed to clear their name, proving, so to speak, that the facts reported by the Baudelaires were real, and it was not enough just to record what he read in the island book.

I think this is the most sensible explanation, and as a theorist I will defend it. But as a fan willing to come up with slightly bizarre ideas, I feel like imagining Lemony realizing that his own death was close to happening. It would be interesting to imagine that Lemony's research took so long that he was an elderly man when he was publishing The End. And the reason Lemony finished his work at this point would be his physical limitations. That would explain shocking secret #13: "he's finished." And more than that: it would even explain the title of the book: "The End of Lemony Snicket". And furthermore, this would explain Lemony's dedication to Beatrice in chapter 14. After quoting the words of Charles B., in which the poet compares the hour of death with the setting off of a ship, Lemony claims that both he and Beatrice are like boats sailing at night, but especially her. Both were on a dark and lonely journey, but she was already dead. "

Beatrice's last words recorded in the book were really emotional to me when I first read them, and they still are today. Especially after I watched the Netflix series, it's now possible to imagine a very specific face when I picture Beatrice. And it's possible to think of a specific soundtrack when I read this.

About the baby's name, on my Headcanon Violet is the name of Mrs. W, who was presumed dead around the same time as Lemony. And in my Headcanon, just as Lemony didn't really die, she didn't either. I still like to think that she was the mystery woman on TGG, and that's the real reason Quigley used the name Violet in the message he sent to submarine Q.

I think this is the first time I stop to think that the Baudelaires ate crab. This is unclean food for those who practice Judaism as a religion, isn't it? I even thought the roast lamb was a reference to the Passover celebration, but they wouldn't do that by eating crab. Or is it that in a book in which Daniel Handler implicitly criticizes religion, he did so on purpose? I think it's unlikely, but still possible. But, albeit unintentionally, the Baudelaires rejected the religious customs of their ancestors in a book in which religious customs are questioned and this is significant.

"The baby had heard about danger, too, mostly from the register of crimes, follies, and misfortunes of mankind from which the Baudelaires read out loud each evening, although they had not told the infant the whole story. She did not know all of the Baudelaires' secrets, and indeed there were some she would never know."

The above excerpt is important as it reveals that Lemony has information about Beatrice Jr's future as he was writing this chapter. This explains how Lemony knows what happened in this chapter: Beatrice Jr told him. Lemony did meet her, and he realized that the Baudelaires hadn't told her the whole story.

A detail that has always pleased me in this book is to notice that after 1 year, Sunny stopped babbling words and has a more conventional and extensive vocabulary. I find this compatible with the fact that 1 year has passed and it's also compatible with her character development arc. One of asoue's themes is "how some children are forced to mature too quickly because of tragedy". Sunny, for example, needed to learn how to cook and convince herself that she loved doing it and that she was good at it in a few days. And all this before she learned to speak English properly. She needed to help with a birth long before she fully understood issues related to human procreation. But in chapter 14, she finally had the opportunity to develop without tragedies forcing her to skip important steps in life.

"Do we take this?" Violet asked, holding up the book from which she had read out loud.

"I don't think so," Klaus said. "Perhaps another castaway will arrive, and continue the history."

"In any case," Sunny said, "they'll have something to read."

Please realize how important this dialogue is. Daniel Handler placed this dialogue here to make sure the reader understood the source of information Lemony had access to: the island book. The children wrote about their own story in that book, including their thoughts, feelings, and private conversations. The children shared some details about ancient events, about when Sunny wasn't even born. In the book, Lemony found details about some events that took place on the island before the arrival of the three Baudelaires.

"I want to make sure these life jackets I've designed will fit properly."

Well... It's good to know that, even though the boat sank, the Baudelaires had lifeboats. Their chances of survival really increased a lot. And knowing that Beatrice Jr managed to survive a shipwreck, it's quite possible that they did too.

The Baudelaires watched her approach, wondering what the next chapter in this infant's life would be, and indeed that is difficult to say. There are some who say that the Baudelaires rejoined V.F.D. and are engaged in brave errands to this day, perhaps under different names to avoid being captured. There are others who say that they perished at sea, although rumors of one's death crop up are often revealed to be untrue. But in any case, as my investigation is over, we have indeed reached the last chapter of the Baudelaires' story, even if the Baudelaires had not.

Lemony just reports here what he heard. Although Daniel Handler intentionally wishes the ending to be left open, and I will respect his decision, I will speak my opinion. They didn't die at sea, though. Note that Lemony directly relates the baby's future to the future of the three Baudelaires. The way Lemony wrote here suggests that the baby's future is as uncertain as the future of her adoptive parents. But we TBL readers know the truth about Beatrice Jr.'s future. Beatrice is alive! So the most likely situation is that her parents are also alive. ( And who knows other characters that we thought had died there on TBB... could it be that at least one of them could also have survived?)

But the question is: if Lemony knows the baby survived, why did he hide this information from the reader? Certainly to protect his niece. Lemony didn't lie, just omitted some details.

The baby paused, and looked at the back of the boat, where the nameplate had been affixed. She had no way of knowing this, of course, but the nameplate had been nailed to the back of the boat by a person standing on the very spot she was standing—at least as far as my research has shown.

Lemony once again dismantled specific knowledge through research, which could only have been done through information provided by others. Beatrice Jr needed to tell Lemony exactly where she was at that moment and Lemony needed to compare that with the information Beatrice Sr and Bertrand wrote in the island book. And then, on visiting the site, Lemony was able to ascertain the most likely position for those descriptions. While Lemony is a bit mistaken, the research process must have been like that.

Finally, she uttered a word. The Baudelaire orphans gasped when they heard it, but they could not say for sure whether she was reading the word out loud or merely stating her own name, and indeed they never learned this. Perhaps this last word was the baby's first secret, joining the secrets the Baudelaires were keeping from the baby, and all the other secrets immersed in the world. Perhaps it is better not to know what was meant by this word, as some things are better left in the great unknown. There are some words, of course, that are better left unsaid—but not, I believe, the word uttered by my niece, a word which here means that the story is over. Beatrice.

Oh... How I love this ending. That's when I felt my head explode for the first time in my life, and I'm still picking up the pieces.

#asoue #asoue theory #lemony snicket #a series of unfortunate events #asoue theories #beatrice baudelaire #snicketverse #beatrice snicket #beatrice jr #violet baudelaire #sunny baudelaire

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taeescript · 3 years

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II. Script of the Angel

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 >> This is the story of three very different people. A successful novelist, a blossoming artist and a dedicated cop. They seem to have nothing in common. Yet, they are continually drawn to each other. It is as if their fates have been intertwined. Written. That they must meet.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> ft. jungkook and jimin primarily.

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 >> policeman!jimin, author!jungkook, painter!reader, serialkiller!XXX; a classic game of cat and mouse

𝔴/𝔠 >> 6.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> mature themes depicted. due to the explicit nature of the topic (serial killers, murders, violence, sexual content, infidelity etc.) scenes are graphic. this is rated 18+. to spare storytelling: please consider yourself warned.

𝔞/𝔫 >> i’m so glad to see people enjoyed the last part! this part is a little shorter but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. will likely be making a masterlist post for this soon as i’m having too much fun writing this and it’s getting long. feedback and comments always appreciated. as always, enjoy! (:

previous part || masterlist || next part

Muscles and bones. The primary architecture of the human body. It allows us to stand and walk; sit and run; jump and spin. But what really keeps us alive? Blood. It carries the nutrients our body needs. It carries the defenders our body requires. So integral to our survival, blood can tell a story of its own. Looking at the direction of travel along with the width and length of the spatter, a single droplet is its own author, spinning a tale of its origin and its birth. A good spatter gives us more information than just a large overlapping pool. “Come again?” Jimin says in disbelief. Taehyung shrugs. He is the unit’s spatter analyst. In one latex covered hand, he holds a cotton swab and the other is pinching his nose. “There are traces of blood everywhere,” he repeats. “Yet I don’t see a single stain of red anywhere,” Jimin rubs his temples, “Are you telling me that the killer had enough time to wipe the whole room clean?” “I’m only telling you what science has told me,” Taehyung says. He carefully dances around another coworker to reach his open kit. It shuts with a loud snap and the younger turns back to look at his commanding officer. “Can I please get back to the lab? This smell is killing me.” Jimin can only wave half-heartedly at him before turning his attention to the scene in front of him. It is eight in the morning. They had received an anonymous call about fifteen minutes ago describing a horrific murder. The station had forwarded the call to him and after hearing the detailed account, he left the station with his team. “Fuck me. What in the world happened here?” a new voice enters the scene. It is too much even for him to handle this early in the morning. Jimin utters a “you tell me”, then excuses himself from the room. He pushes past the crowding officers and curious residents until he reaches the front of the hotel. There, his stomach dislodges everything it can. Even as he wipes his mouth, the black spots do not cease dancing in front of his eyes. Deeper in his vision, the picture is all too clear. She hangs from the ceiling with her arms stretched wide. Her feet are wrapped together in rope and her body is naked. Attached behind are two massive wings. The feathers have been stitched carefully together to create an impressive wingspan and if they were not speared into her back, Jimin may have thought they were beautiful. Yet there they were, dug into her shoulder blades, ripping into her muscle and tissue. That was not the centerpiece of it all. Missing from the body were all its abdominal organs. They had been ripped out, cut out… forensics would tell him how they were taken out, but they were gone. Replaced inside her was a large bouquet of red roses. They glistened in the sunlight and when the team had arrived, there were still dew drops on its velvety petals. The grotesque memory causes his body to expel its contents again. “Boss,” the voice from before returns, “You alright?” Jimin turns to face his partner. Namjoon stands in front of him, a worried expression which contorts his face. Namjoon is one of his only friends at the work force, being the only one similar in age. The other agents were all much older than him so with common interests, the two were naturally drawn to each other. Jimin liked Namjoon well enough. He was smart and quick on his feet. More than once, Jimin had reached out to Namjoon for advice, whether it be for work or personal life. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah, I wasn’t prepared to see that this early in the morning,” Jimin says. Namjoon nodded. He too has dark circles under his eyes and his lips were hardened into a thin, straight line. “Makes you imagine what a sick motherfucker could create this,” he comments. They stand in silence for a quick second until Namjoon speaks again, “What do you think we should do?” Jimin resumes his commanding role. “Take down the body. Have somebody sweep it thoroughly. Send a couple of the lab geeks in to scan the room. I want everything put into evidence, even if it’s a speck of dust. Everybody leaves something behind, and we will find it.” “What about the civilians? We’ve got a growing, curious crowd spreading like cancer.” “You’re Lieutenant. Do something about it,” Jimin light-heartedly teases Namjoon in his new role. Namjoon slightly flinches at the address. Although Namjoon had been promoted to a position higher than Jimin’s, Namjoon only ever treated him in the way they had always been working together: as partners. “Fuck me,” Namjoon curses with his favourite two words. Jimin grins. “Maybe later. I’ve got a shit ton of paperwork to get started back at the station. I’ll see you,” he pats his distracted friend’s shoulder. Taking a last scan of the building, Jimin strides towards his parked car. He is ready to hunt down the person who dared mess around in his town.

...

Jungkook watches the scene before him with mild interest. His ears pick up the voice of an officer that is instructing the crowd that everything is under control; to return to what they are doing without a worry. “What’s going on?” the housewife asks beside him. She is still in you pajamas and had seemed to wander out due to the hubbub. He smiles at her. “Murder.” She regards him with wide eyes. Her feet stumble backwards and she scurries away. The officer had finished his speech and the crowd was now dissipating. Jungkook took it as his cue to exit as well. As he walks out of the hotel, he feels vaguely irritated. At the end, his script is not perfectly carried out. He had needed to modify it slightly although the end result is what he had planned it to be. Even the timing of the police’s arrival after his call had been as he predicted. The world was too easy for him to guess. Now, it is time to return to Krystal. Even without using his vast knowledge of facial cues and body expressions, he knows exactly how she would react. Nostrils dilated, lower lid tensed, brows lowered and lower jaw jutting out. He reads her like a book and its title screamed “anger”. “Where were you all last night?” she questions, hands placed on her hips. He sighs while placing his jacket on the hanger at the entranceway. His feet ache as they pad across the tiles towards the bedroom. “I was out doing research. I told you yesterday,” he says. She bites her lip. When he walked past her, she could smell a faint hint of perfume mixed with a lemony clean scent like soap. Her jaws clench tighter. “Yes. But you had said you would be out late. You never said you’d be gone the entire night!” she follows him closely behind. He does not turn or wait for her. Once inside the bedroom, he throws off his shirt and pants, trudging to the showers. “Don’t you think you could have given me a call at least?” she asks. His figure is a faint silhouette through the shower curtain. She can see him scrubbing his face. She waits for him until the water is shut down and he steps out of the box. Water drips from his hair and his skin is still a flush pink from the heat. The room fills with steam and he brushes past her on the way out. Still, she relentlessly follows him. “Jeon Jungkook!” she calls out, “Say something!” He pulls out a new pair of boxers from the drawer and put them on. Once they snap against his waist, he turns to finally look at her. “I’m tired, and you’re annoying me. We’ll talk when I wake up,” he says. Tears sting her eyes but she cannot allow him to see any type of weakness. She whirls around on her heels and stalk out of the room, leaving him to himself. The door slams shut loudly behind her and makes his ears slightly ring. The sheets are cold and inviting on his body. The wrap around him like a silky cocoon and his eyes are heavy the instance he hits the pillow. There is only one last thing to do before he can allow his body to rest. With delicate fingers, he pries off the paper-thin gloves from his hands. They slide off smoothly and if there was an onlooker in the room at that moment, they would have been reminded of a snake that was shedding its skin. These are special gloves just for his hobbies. They disguise his hands so that they are void of fingertips. They are so lightweight he cannot feel them at all. They blend in with his body so perfectly, only the keenest of eyes would be able to notice the thin line above his wrist where the material ends. They are perfect for him and allow him to do what he does without a worry. He leaves the material out on the top of the drawer. He knows that Krystal would not be back in the room for a while so it is safe sitting there. They are like contact lenses, shriveling and drying up due to the exposure to air. In about fifteen minutes time, they would look like shrunken autumn leaves and be the size of a walnut. The room-keeper would find them if he had still not thrown them out, and discard them thinking they were candy wrappers. He lets his body drift into nothingness, content with the day’s work.

...

Besides having a good eye for detail, a coroner should be able to work under extremely stressful conditions. They could be asked to visit crime scenes, identify human remains or supervise the transportation of corpses. Working often behind the scenes, a coroner is an integral part to this unit. It is sad to say that we are low in numbers and are extremely interested in people joining our team! If you have taken subjects like biology, chemistry and forensics, in addition to law and humanities, we encourage you to apply to our graduate program! We would love to see you working beside us! Jimin’s eyes scan the announcement that has been placed on the door of the coroner’s office. He is scheduled for a meeting with the elder man on what may have been found and as a man of time, he is early for it. “Park! You’re here,” the coroner steps out of his office. He has patches of grey hair and a scruff of facial hair that he now scratches with his fingers. Dressed in his usual white lab coat, his black shoes peek out from beneath his pants and they lead the way towards the morgue. “How’s it going, Fernando?” Jimin greets back, “I see your wife has been feeding you well.” He eyes a popped button on the stomach of his coworker. Fernando laughs. It is loud and bounces off the white walls of the building. It is a laugh that is jolly and hearty; a strange sound to hear in the location they currently are. “Maria always has a full meal whenever I return home. I swear, she’s trying to fatten me up like the witch from Hansel and Gretel,” he chuckles. He and Maria, a linguistic analyst also working in the police force, had been married for years. They had invited nearly the whole station to their wedding and wanted to celebrate for another week before a case had dragged everyone back to work. The two turn a corner and the black door of the morgue greets their face. Fernando hands Jimin a pair of gloves and a mask before they enter the room. The body has already been laid on the table and labelled after Fernando’s inspection. “I’ve already submitted the full report. You’ll find it on your desk by tomorrow morning,” Fernando speaks with a muffled voice due to the mask. The material itches Jimin’s nose and he wrinkles it. His fingers carefully pick up the sheet that covers the body and he scans the female underneath. “You know I like to see the victims personally for each case. Do you mind giving me an overview?” he asks. The other man shrugs. This is not the first case he’s worked with Jimin. While he was not a hard man to work with, he was extremely meticulous – borderline obsessive – in details to the point that it was tiring and burdensome. “No signs of struggles. She evidently took care of her body and skin; probably went to the gym in the times between work. Besides the large opening on her abdomen, the rest of her is intact.” “What is missing from her?” “Mainly her digestive system and portions of her excretory system. Everything within her ribcage has been preserved and unmoved.” “So nothing out of the ordinary then.” “Aside from the gaping hole? No. My best guess is that she knew her attacker. Or if she didn’t, then she at least didn’t sense any danger from him.” “What makes you say that?” “I found seminal fluid in her body.” This new information made Jimin turn his attention away from the body and back to Fernando. He had finished circling the table while mentally confirming everything Fernando had been saying. “You’re suggesting our killer may have had intercourse with our victim then?” “Jane Doe, technically,” Fernando inserted, “We haven’t made an ID on her quite yet.” Jimin waved the comment away. “Maybe,” Fernando recognized Jimin’s piercing look, “I sent a sample of it to the lab geeks. It could be from the killer or it might be from when she last had sex.” Jimin knew how long these types of analyses could take. He didn’t want to wait several weeks for results so he told Fernando to put a rush on it. Fernando stood wordlessly and watched Jimin as he continued to encircle the body. Every so often, his fingers would reach out and lightly tap a part of the body. With each tick the clock on the wall made, it seemed to drive its sound into Fernando’s skull. When he could not take the silence any longer, he let out a cough. At the sound, Jimin remembers that he is not alone in the room. It happened every time he got absorbed in a case. He would become trapped in his own world and forget everything that was around him. “Sorry, Fernando. I’m going to be here a little longer. You’re free to leave. I’ll read the report tomorrow morning and if I have any more questions, I’ll find you again,” he dismisses him. Fernando bows politely and exits the room. High cheekbones, full lips and a perky nose. She was attractive enough to gain a few extra glances when she had walked down the street. Was that how she got the attention of the killer? That would make sense to why he maintained her facial features and took out her organs. Perhaps it was an interpretation of keeping her beautiful exterior shell. It could also explain why a bouquet of flowers was put inside her. Jimin shook his head. He was thinking too much. Who knew what went on in the mind of a killer? Well, besides the killer themselves. He observes her face a while longer and notices that it is not as perfectly symmetrical as he had initially thought. In fact, her right cheek bulged out in a way similar to after a person had their wisdom teeth pulled out. Bringing the overhanging light towards the mouth of the girl, he shines the light inside. There were a couple of metal tools that were placed on a tray nearby and Jimin used this to pry inside her mouth. He pushes aside the meat of her cheeks and peers at the gums. There was nothing unusual there. Something continues to urge him to look further so he turns his head slightly and checks the inner cheek. Deep at the bottom of the valley where muscle meets gums, he notices markings that stand out from the normal. He is unable to make out what they are and so he pushes away the bright light. Opting for a smaller flashlight, he drops the piercing ray of light to where he had been looking before. Four squiggles. 2-0-something-1. Or was that an I? He rotates his head further. The originally illegible third Jimin becomes an A, and the two looks more like an S at this angle. If these were letters, then the second Jimin could potentially be an “O”. The last symbol was still inconclusive as it could be either a one or “I”. Consumed with his new finding, Jimin nearly forgets to record the new information. It is not until a few seconds later that he then whips out his cellular phone and snaps a picture of it. He cannot decipher whether the symbols could be anything more than letters and numbers so he peels off his mask and throws it with the gloves into the trash bin. As he walks out of the coroner’s building and back to the main station, a feeling continues to burn in his gut. His intuition is telling him that there is something oddly familiar with what he had just saw. It wasn’t the girl or the markings themselves, but rather the position he had found them in. He felt like he had seen something like this before. He scratches his head the entire way back until he sits at his desk. That is when he remembers.

...

The light takes him by surprise from the slight crack of his curtains. Warmth from the afternoon sun hits him directly at the eyes and its rays creates a band that gives him the illusion akin to Cyclops from X-Men. He stretches and feels his muscles straining from last night’s activities. With a roll of his neck, he bounces off the bed and throws his legs onto the floor. The cold from being out of his blankets send a shiver down his spine that makes him curl his toes. Everything is strangely quiet around him. He does not hear the clatter of plates nor the running of water. There are no soft paddings from footsteps. The world is silent. He grabs a shirt from his suitcase and throws it over his head, bringing a small bit of warmth to his body. With each step around their hotel room he sees nothing. Her clothing is gone as with it her toothbrush and shoes. In fact, her entire suitcase has disappeared. With miniscule curiosity he returns back to the bedroom and unplugs his charging phone. There is one unread message and he opens it. “I know you’re tired but I don’t think that’s an excuse for your outburst this morning. Regardless, I will respect your need for personal space. I’m flying back to LA. I’ll see you when you return. – Krystal” Her words are curt and straight-forward. He reads her frustration between the words but doesn’t carry it with him. He knows she is waiting for an apology but he is too engrossed with his newfound freedom. He had not planned for the research on this trip to be completed with such speed and so his return train ride was not scheduled until the day after tomorrow. She will have to wait. He had a whole city to walk and sights to see. She will be waiting regardless. Ever so slightly he forms a smile with his lips. He walks over to the curtains and throws them open, allowing all the sunlight to enter his room. It bounces off the white sheets and covers the rug. Dust particles float around after being stirred from their slumber. With a hand pressed against the window, Jungkook peers down from the height of the hotel. He watches the automobiles that zoom beneath his gaze and traces the pathway of each person that passes by. It is a good day.

...

Fingertips graze her lips with a type of tenderness that sends small vibrations through her entire body. He holds her gaze and she peers shyly into his half-moon eyes. A smile dances on his face while she caresses his face with tremoring hands. He grabs them and holds it in his own. “You’re shaking,” he says with a light teasing tone. She wants to pull away but he holds them only stronger. He traces the lines on her palms to soothe her, but it only makes her shake all the more. “Is this real?” the question brushes your mouth much like the autumn wind rustling through leaves. It falls from your lips and floats gently to reach his ears. “Do you want this be real?” he asks you. His eyes never leave you, starting from the top of you forehead to trace to the tip of your nose and finally landing on your cherry stained lips. You faintly hear the sound of laughter in the background and the pattering of feet running but you are only consumed by the man who sits in front of you. Your nod is but a slight shift of your head. He smiles at you and cups your face in the warmth of his hands. Pressing his lips affectionately on yours, you inhale and take in everything from him. “I love you, Y/N” he confesses with all of his heart. You can feel your heart tugging towards him as he stands and offers a hand. You take it and he lightly pulls you to his feet. A rush overcomes you and suddenly, he seems taller than you remember. You look down and sees him standing a few centimeters off the ground. Your brows furrow and you peer up at him again. He has turned and is now starting to run forward. “C’mon, let’s go!” he calls back towards you. You try to move your feet but they only propel you forward while he runs upward into the vast blue sky. “Hyun!” you cry, reaching out to him. He doesn’t seem to hear you but you see laughter bursting forth from his mouth. “You’ll have to run faster or you won’t catch up!” Pressing your feet firmly on the ground, you push off but gravity brings you back down. “Hyun, I can’t! I can’t get into the sky like you!” He has now risen further than ever, growing smaller in your vision. “C’mon, Y/N! Come fast, before you can’t catch up!” his voice is faint but you hear him calling to you. You run forward faster than ever but you are never able to leave the ground. Tears spill from the corner of your eyes in frustration at the fact that you are behind him. “Hyun, don’t leave me!” you scream between your sobbing, “Baekhyun!” Your dream is shattered at the sound of metal clattering to the floor. You are jolted awake and your heart bolts at the sudden sound. The metal can which held your wet paintbrushes were now spread across the floor after falling from the table. Your friend stands at the door with an embarrassed look on her face. “Sorry,” she says, bringing a finger from her forehead towards you in apology. You feel the rise in your heart rate. You conceal it by slowly getting up out of you seat and rolling you head to get rid of the kink. Together, both you and Min clean up the mess off the floor from where she had knocked over the art supplies. “Are you okay?” Min asks softly, not quite meeting your eyes as the two of you straighten out the other half completed canvases which balance precariously on the table. You blink in confusion, causing a tear to roll down your cheek. You reach up and brush it with your fingers. They return wet and tinged with green. You let out a small laugh. “I slept on paint again, didn’t I?” you muse. You and Min are standing at the art studio where you had spent all last night in. Your completed painting stands at the corner and Min walks over to it. Min tries to read what you are thinking, but the other has her head turned away. “You stayed here all night to complete this?” Min inspects the painting closer. It depicts a girl standing shyly in front of a boy against a background of red, pink and purple. The boy had his back towards the observer and he stood with his hands behind him holding a bouquet of flowers. The painting showed an innocent love between the two but when Min squinted her eyes, you noticed two circles that were put on the back of the coat the boy was wearing. Min raises an eyebrow and points it out to you. “Are those bullet holes?” You in the meantime had stood hypnotized in front of the painting. A strange feeling is stirring in your heart as you look at what you had painted. It brought forth the memory of Baekhyun standing in front of you with flowers after their first date. It led to the memory of your first shy kiss after. It made you remember the pain you felt from your dream. Another tear perches at the corner of your eye and you turn to brush it angrily away. Min is still standing in front of you, now watching you with concern. She could guess why you are crying and trying so hard to mask it. You had only ever shed tears for one person and this painting brought back the reminder that this person was no longer around you. “I’m not sure what that is,” you laughs nervously, “It was quite late last night. My mind does weird things when I am sleep deprived.” Without further explanation, you grab your bag and head out before any other memory can shake you. “I’m going home to shower,” you say without looking back, “Sorry about the mess of the studio. I’ll be back later to clean it.” Your last words choke and you escape before Min can see the tears that fall consciously down your cheeks this time.

...

3. 2. 1. Boom. Making the entrance of the century, the three horses gallop into the square where the three beings are strapped on. White. The stallion neighs and throws his head back, unsure of where to go next. But a loud snap makes it head to the right and it brings its hooves down on the ground. Its rider’s body has been punctured with holes and the smell that emits from it is horrendous. For the first horsemen is called Pestilence. Red. Its mane has been dipped in the blood of its enemy. It limps as the giant beast follows in step behind the stallion, a battle scar from its recent fight. His rider flails at a sharp right turn, causing the spear attached at the arm to clash with the helmet. For the second horsemen is called War. Black. The man is but naked, showing his skin pulled taut over the ribcage and bones. He carries the pair of scales with his stomach plastered on one end and the other tipped with bread. For the third horsemen is Famine, but this man can no longer fill his hunger seated upon the black horse. There is a final horseman. The fourth’s name is Death. But why does it need to exist, when it is so very much alive in the other three? Excerpt: Written - Three Horsemen Everything from his desk was moved into the presentation room that allowed him more space to work. Papers of the current case overlap with the papers from the older file. They are grouped in a way only the creator can understand and it is Jimin who stands before it. Picking at his lips with a hand, his foot taps rhythmically on the floor as he continues to scan what he has laid out in front of him. He knew something had been bothering him since he returned from the morgue. Now it was clear. He had remembered a case he had taken part of when he had been temporarily stationed in Los Angelos. The case had remained unsolved but the victim was similar to his Jane Doe. In that case, the man had TH3C scratched into the inner part of his cheek. Matching the picture he had taken earlier to the picture in the old file, they were even scratched in the same place. After digging around a little more, he found two other cases that were similar. It could be coincidence but if they were all related, this was not a simple kill any longer. They had a serial killer in their hands. However there is trouble with the cases. Besides the one he is holding, the other three are from Los Angeles. He technically no longer had any jurisdiction over them. Jimin was contemplating on calling up his colleague when his own phone interrupts his thought process. He answers the phone promptly. “Hello?” “Jimin?” your timid voice reaches his ears. His name uttered from you relaxes his tense shoulders. “Hey. What’s up?” He can hear shuffling from your side as you think about what to say. “I just wanted to call and see if you were okay. You didn’t return home last night.” “I went home for a bit but was called out pretty early for a case this morning. Wait, how did you know I didn’t go home?” “Ah… Well, I’m standing in front of your place right now.” “Why are you doing that?” He can basically hear your body language through the phone. You are gnawing on the inside of you cheek and probably tugging at your shirt, a habit you had when you were nervous. “I forgot my keys again. I thought that you might be home and I could use your shower.” Laughing at how sheepish your voice is, he says to you, “That tells me you slept over at the studio again. And very likely have paint on your face.” “Hey!” you huff, “I don’t wake up with paint on my face every single time!” “But you did this time, didn’t you?” he continues teasing you. You mutter something unintelligible, causing him to laugh at you again. “Unfortunately, I can’t step out of the office but if you don’t mind stopping over, I’ll hand you my keys.” You agree to his proposal and tell him that you’ll be there in twenty. Once their call ends, he chuckles silently to himself. You never seemed to change. When he and Baekhyun were roommates, there were multiple times he’d return home and find you standing outside their flat. You would tell him the same story of how you forgot your keys and of whether you could wash up at their place. And each and every time you would have a blotch of paint on you face where you had fallen asleep at the studio. He had teasingly got you face wash in a paint bottle for your birthday a long time ago as a joke. The last time he went over to your place, he had seen it standing in your room. His mind continues to wander to memories of his college days with Baekhyun and you until he is interrupted by Namjoon. “Whoah. What do you have going on here?” he asks, stepping towards the multitude of papers. Jimin takes this break to grab himself a new cup of coffee as the one sitting to the side had long since turned cold. “I was at the morgue earlier and discovered something strange. It reminded me of an old case,” he told Namjoon. Namjoon flipped through a couple of the pages but he was not as patient as Jimin to read through all the details. He scrunched up his nose and breezed past Jimin again. “I wanted to tell you we have a name for our Jane Doe,” Namjoon said, leaning against the doorframe. He is actually quite impressed at what Jimin has discovered in the span of the short time since they discovered the body this morning. Generally, he was impressed with how fast the department had gathered information. Perhaps as this was their biggest case in a while, the team as a whole was interested in solving it as soon as they can. “Sara Michel,” Namjoon continues on, “Female. 25. From Los Angeles. She’s a fine arts curator. She was in town for a meeting with the local museum about transferring a couple of new sculptures over. It’s been confirmed that the room we found her in this morning is the room her company booked for her while she was town.” “Los Angeles,” Jimin repeats. His eyes dart to the papers. Again, their neighbouring city is mentioned. “Yeah. What of it?” Namjoon picks up on Jimin’s sudden interest. He watches as the other walks over to the piles of paper and brings up a folder. “The old case I was talking about,” Jimin says, “It was from when I worked in LA last summer. A bit unusual that Ms. Michel is from there, don’t you think?” Namjoon scratches his chin. “Well, LA is a big city. And we’re only a train ride away….” Jimin shakes his head. “I don’t like it. Something weird is going on here.” Somebody outside the room yells out for Namjoon. He groans and Jimin throws him a sympathetic look. Jimin never told Namjoon, but before Namjoon was offered the promotion as lieutenant, Jimin had been approached by the captain. He had declined the position as he knew all the responsibilities that came with the new role. Besides, he enjoyed working as a detective; it allowed him hands-on access to all cases. “I’ll keep you updated on anything else I find,” Namjoon says as he turns to leave. Jimin replies, “Same here.” “Alright, well see you around. If I don’t get lost amongst all the conferences I have to start pulling…” his voice trails off as he exits with a dejected curve of his back.

...

“Hi,” your voice interrupts his nap. After Namjoon had left, Jimin had sat down at the desk fully planning to do some more research. However, his fatigue got the better of him and he ended up dozing off. He rubs his eyes sleepily and rises to greet you. You urge him to sit back down. You may have spent the night at the studio, but you looked more put together than he was. Dressed in the first pair of jeans he could find and an old tshirt, he was in a contrast to your outfit. You wore a pair of black and white polka-dotted overall shorts that you paired with a slim fit quarter sleeved shirt inside. A necklace hung around your neck, and you had thrown your hair into a messy bun. Tendrils of hair had fallen out, but it framed your face giving you an overall effortless but fresh look. Walking up to him, you sit gently at the edge of the table while he remains seated to your side. He gently reaches up and smudges the shadow of green paint on your face. “What a way to greet me,” you pout. He smiles at you, then yawns and stretches. Remembering why you had arrived, he rummages through his pocket and retrieves the key to his apartment for you. You thanked him for it and then rotate in your spot to take in the entire room. You were similar in this way, where the two of you had an eye for minute details. It intrigues you to see the pictures that had been laid out. It is true that they are morbid but being around Jimin all these years had made you accustomed to seeing images of a crime scene. “Are you going to be coming home tonight?” you ask him. Your back is still turned towards him as you walk up and study a picture up close. He walks up to you and stands behind. You were looking at the picture of the markings on one of the victims. “TH3C,” you whisper. “No,” his voice rumbles from behind you, “This case is pretty big. I’ll most likely be spending the night here.” You spin in your spot to face him again and your noses nearly touch. He stumbles and takes a step back at the close proximity. A frown starts to crease your forehead and you nervously chews on your fingernail. “What is it?” he sighs. It takes him a moment to gather himself while the scent of you lingers around him. “I feel bad that I’m barging into your place again,” you mumble, “What if I bring you dinner tonight?” “There’s no need. I’ll order take out from nearby. Besides, you’re always welcome at my place. It’s not a bother.” “Jimin…” He sighs, defeated. “Sure. I’ll wait for your meal.” You delightedly clap your hands together. “Perfect! I’ll make your favourite dish tonight! How does carbonara sound?” Nodding he feels the usual smile that appears around you on his face. It was strange. Before you came, he had nearly fainted with tiredness but now that you were here, it was like you had transferred you energy to him. “I’ll see you again tonight, then!” you quip animatedly. Taking his keys off the desk and into your pocket, you makes your way towards the door before stopping again. “TH,” you begin, “It makes me think of Three Horsemen.” “What’s that?” he asks you, distracted by the thought of delicious homemade food. “Three Horsemen. Remember the novel I was reading? It was just a random thought. And then maybe the number three for the third one? I don’t know what “C” would mean though. Perhaps it’s the horsemen from set C,” you continue to ramble on. You notice that Jimin is now staring at you with an intense gaze. You wave your hand in front of you, as if the simple action would cause you thoughts to magically disappear as well. “Forget what I said. I’m an artist,” you laugh nervously, “Besides if it was a set C, there would be a set B and A. And that would make… nine total kills. My mind is just overactive with the books I’m reading.” Jimin laughs nervously along with you. But inside, he mentally makes a note to investigate the possibility of what you have said, however miniscule that may be. You thank him once again for his hospitality and wave him good bye. When he is left alone again, he sinks back into his seat. It makes his bottom ache as he had been seated for a while, so he paces the room. Three Horsemen – Third Horsemen – Set C. TH3C. It wasn’t an unreasonable conclusion to draw. It was scary to imagine though. Eight other victims that were not found. His thoughts are interrupted once again when the phone in the room rings. Namjoon is on the other end when Jimin picks up. “We found a witness.”

...

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whoslaurapalmer · 3 years

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so i never do this but i put a lot of thought into really specific details about the structure and scene layout of (the three-part folding mirror) and i really really really want to talk about it so here are some of my notes and some general commentary

-the crux of the fic, at least the way i had envisioned it, is what vfd does to family, how it becomes biological family vs the family created by vfd

-what vfd did to specific families: -physically separated the calibans -morally separated the denouements and the snickets -somehow brought the anwhistles closer together

-in terms of ramona and olaf, ramona was there to stress the distinction of biological family vs. vfd family but also how they’re so inextricably intertwined with each other, and olaf, this is harder to tell bc he doesn’t have a point of view here, but olaf is scoping out potential candidates for his personal group of firestarters – his own sort of “family” (ramona bc she’s a duchess, ernest because he has a similar line of thought, josephine because her husband is working with the mushrooms, the white-faced women because, well they wind up in his troupe and I have very vague headcanons about how that happens)

-related; the reason frank asks olivia about miranda at the end is because, at that point in the fic, frank feels so terrible about what he said to ernest that he’s trying to reassure himself that his family is still okay because (dewey’s right) at least they’re together, compared to the calibans, who haven’t seen each other in years. it was one of the first ideas I had when I was jotting ideas down in april and it stuck with me the whole way through. I really wanted it in there. I went back and forth before I got to this plot, though, on whether or not frank or ernest would be the one asking it. but I think it fits frank. -(ahahahahahaha the kicker being that miranda really was at the party the whole time and olivia didn’t recognize her) -anyway

-the parallels in the fic were: -the denouements start the fic together, and end the fic alone (by being honest about how they feel about each other) -the snickets start the fic relatively separated, and end the fic together (by being dishonest about what happened during the party) -the denouements start the fic by playing their game, and the snickets end the fic with theirs -frank is mistaken for ernest, ernest is mistaken for frank -frank pretends to be ernest on accident, ernest pretends to be frank on purpose -dewey has never slammed a door in his life; towards the end of the fic he slams the tray -i….think that’s all of them. I think

-character-wise, jacques and frank both see themselves as the people holding their families together; when in fact for the denouements, it’s dewey, which I think is clear in this, and for the snickets it’s lemony, which is less clear here? but definitely something I agree with -dewey and kit see themselves as the most ‘normal’, and they both have relatively solitary positions of acquiring information -ernest and lemony clearly both vibe on a ‘question vfd’ wavelength -i was also interested in kit and ernest, as siblings who feel stifled by an older/perceived older sibling, and dewey and lemony, who are sometimes unnecessarily protected by their siblings because they are the youngest/perceived youngest -this doesn’t show up in the fic bc olaf’s parents are still alive, but I thought ramona and olaf were also interesting foils re: reacting to their parent’s deaths

-some narration notes: -frank never refers to ernest and dewey as his brothers, except in the scene where he argues with ernest. because frank doesn’t necessarily see the split of biological family vs vfd family but has definitely swayed more to vfd family -ernest and dewey always refer to each other as brothers. -similarly, frank refers to the members of vfd as associates, most everyone else refers to them as friends. -ernest refers to vfd as strictly VFD because he’s distanced himself from it, while everyone else calls it ‘the organization’ -frank doesn’t swear even in his narration when he’s thinking them and not saying them because it’s, still his narration. he still wouldn’t quite completely say the words. (oh, he’s like gansey, like that. the raven cycle is still on my brain. i had so many scene sketches where ernest and frank were way too callous to each other bc they kept coming out like ronan and declan.) -kit’s line at the beginning is “someone in this very room has betrayed us” which is jacques’s line from the building committee meeting in unauto. the clock saying wrong afterwards is because the someone who really betrayed them (lemony) isn’t in the room.

-the costumes, which i did decide very arbitrarily: monty: clearly a snake. olaf: sigh. wolf ramona and olivia: oh, there was actually a slight distinction that just no one notices because none of them have looked at an insect (and also because describing clothes properly but succinctly is the hardest thing. i've written fic for a long time!!!!! i did my time in block paragraph clothing description hell!!! it haunts me!!!!!!!!!!), but ramona was the butterfly and olivia was actually a dragonfly. their masks are roses because, well 1) I thought that would be cool 2) butterflies and dragonflies land on flowers…. jacques: the boxwood, but a lion otherwise. josephine: ocean widdershins: the octopus with the pirate hat jacquelyn: the gold star suit (because gustav said she should do it for a play on. star. like. actress star.) miranda: uranus’s moon named miranda. it was very vague and I put that in the fic before I decided to have her in the little scene with esme. and then i thought i would put her in that scene too. gustav: phantom of the opera. haruki: tree frog hector: tree (not because of haruki’s costume but because i literally could not think of a damn thing for hector to be) lemony: uhhhhhh I had vague ideas he was. a cloud or something. like a stormcloud???? couldn’t pan out though. I like him in grey anyway. kit: I really just wanted her in red. with a big cape. and i spent so much time mentally deciding if i wanted her to have glasses or not in the archives that i forgot to mention her mask. everyone has one i swear to god white faced women: did anyone recognize that was them? :) it’s not mentioned in any way at all but in my head they were all dressed identically as flappers

esme actually doesn’t have one, because I, forgot, to give her one. I’m taking suggestions.

-references to lyeekha’s fics: -“that which is essential is invisible to the eye” is what frank says to jacques at the end of edge, and also the title of their snicket/denouement series -it initially wasn’t in there, because I was worried it wasn’t, like, in the right tone, re: what happens in edge vs how I was interpreting jacques and frank? but i liked it a lot. so i put it back in. -“frank quit smoking, but you didn’t” is a reference to frank smoking at the end of rigged -guess the guest and the clock alcove are from the end of fragments, with dewey and ernest watching hotel guests. this is my favorite thing in the whole world and something i actually keep forgetting is not canon because it is SUCH the perfect beethoven parallel -kit’s tattoo, which I was specifically imagining as the giant bombinating beast tattoo from ink on her back, which is definitely not around her neck but that was the only spot of skin she was showing so it was available and my thought was, it was kind of a low-cut in the back dress, and she was wearing the cape to cover up the giant tattoo on her back because beatrice was not there to cover it up with makeup (also bea picked out the dress.) (bea: if I can’t be there you have to make a statement) (kit: I have to what) -lemony being a “powerful, mythical figure” to the sugar bowl gen was actually something I wrote a long time ago, back in 2013, and I put it in the fic because I thought it fit, and then happened to reread double edged VERY late into the rewriting, literally THE DAY after I wrote that line in, and i saw a similar line of thought, and I was like “*cooper voice* sometimes you just get lucky ~ ” -jacques being in a lion costume, from the masquerade outfit sketches

additionally – -yes I am still cackling about ‘angel of my apple’ -angel of my apple -ANGEL OF MY APPLE -writing olaf is constantly like, he can say the funniest fucking things. and then turn around and say the absolute cruelest shit and the balance can be difficult. -but, angel of my a p p l e

-i can’t believe that out of all the people here, frank and jacques are the ones having the most semi-successful romantic relationship. well, ramona and olivia, too, but frank and jacques actually kiss so good for them -i know it was very vague and it’s because writing romance is physically embarrassing, but yes that last line was supposed to be them kissing, i’m so sorry

-undercover underwater was a last-minute addition because I didn’t want to take the time to try and google something real and good because I didn’t have the time. my guilty pleasure is super shitty hallmark murder mystery movies (I like good murder mysteries as well, thank you.) and my mom’s been reading terrible murder mysteries during lunch (where I was sitting across from her, also eating lunch, but also hiding behind my laptop and writing the fic) so I just came up with undercover underwater on the spot, but my mom came up with the tagline. it was originally ‘sleeps with the fishes’ (especially because i love the godfather movies which also, clearly has a very big stress on family vs The Family) but I thought ‘diving for the truth’ was funnier. -my mom and my brother (who has no interest in shitty murder mysteries, but loves to verbally smack them down with me re: their predictable tropes) and I decided that the plotline was something like, single woman scuba dives and keeps running into stuff (you know, hidden treasure, dead bodies, the like); her love interest drives the boat; her overbearing family member is an aunt; this is definitely like, book four in the series. there’s probably twelve books or something. (she goes on vacation on like book six and still finds a dead body, come on it practically writes itself.) (she probably owns a little fish tank......it’s a small sunny beach town.........etc etc.........) (it’s so easy to do this.) -oh, fixer upper is the worst hallmark murder mystery series, murder she baked is the best. in my opinion.

-dewey and lemony were supposed to have an actual conversation at the hors d’oeuvres table but every time I tried to put lemony in earlier he just wouldn’t work. it didn’t feel right. so he got saved for the reveal. -but i’m still delighted by the idea of lemony literally doing the shot of gazpacho. -dewey uses a spoon because he doesn’t have the composure or the guts to do a shot of cold soup -lemony was also supposed to have a scene with kit and one with jacques, i’m pretty sure, to lead up to the gazpacho conversation and the commiserating re: siblings. but again, didn’t work out. so then dewey had to fare alone in the scene. -oh!! the line about how lemony hides, in the least likely places, was actually something that was in my initial write of lemony’s scrapped pov of my ellington fic. jacques being responsible for sending olivia to the hinterlands was from a scrapped jacques fic. -steal from your unused fic.

-because I had to take scenes with lemony out, I had some, gaps in the night that I had to fill in (especially because this is a party more people are there than the snickets and the denouements), so that was how esme, the herpetology squad, and olaf and josephine came to be. (also olaf needed to show up again somewhere else otherwise he kind of, disappeared awkwardly, I thought?) -also because initially there was going to be a scene of bea and bertrand, elsewhere, but I wanted to keep the fic contained to the hotel, because one of the ideas I wasn’t able to put into the fic all that much was the sense of the hotel being its own world -oh, bea and bertrand don’t know that lemony used them as cover. the assignment they were working on instead of being at the party? planning the opera. the scene would’ve come right after ramona and olaf’s conversation. -the herpetology squad not only serves to highlight that people can’t tell the denouements apart (part of the foreshadowing that ernest would pretend to be frank), but was also me roasting myself because writing like a million different characters I had never written like this before had me very concerned about if their characterization was consistent, specifically for kit. (specifically, her with dewey.) also defining a character down to one base trait can be helpful when writing and creating characters, but for people no it’s not ideal. -haruki’s estimation of the denouement’s traits were not how i was mentally keeping track of them, because i definitely do do the ‘one base trait’ sometimes, but i had a lot more going on when i was thinking of them -but yes dewey is kind. in the way that bertrand is kind, but bertrand’s like, way more smooth about it.

-lemony does not have his own pov because, for me personally, I can’t fathom writing him in any other way besides first person, and it just would not do to have one scene out of the whole fic not in third person. unless he was secretly narrating each scene, which, he clearly was not. i would’ve had to do it in a whole different style.

-i love that dewey and kit are like ‘ahaha we’re the normal ones though’ and their normal conversation is them literally going ‘hey these creepy fish are AWESOME THOUGH’ -i looked at so many fish. for hours. -ALL BECAUSE I came up with the phrase ‘oceanic intrigue’ as a fun phrase and decided I had to commit my soul to it and never look back. -oh, the fairy shrimp are really very cute though. and i think the cookiecutter shark is, fucked up but a neat little guy.

-i’m eternally going to be laughing about this too kit: where the fuck is frank frank: /three floors down, making out with jacques

-oh!! 40-49 is unassigned in the dewey decimal system (which I googled. many, many times.), and was previously biographies. there’s another section for biographies now, but because biography was the closest I could come to like, some sort of, identity category, I thought it was more fitting if it was the section that used to be biography but was now as blank as frank felt.

-dewey is the one responsible for the clock sounding like it does. he just thinks ‘wrong’ is a fun word. that, and frank recognizing jacques by sound, were from my earlier scene sketches for this when i thought this fic was going to be much, much shorter.

#lulu talks about the sad lemon man

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lyeekha · 3 years

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In the mirror he could see Ernest stood behind him, tie tucked safely into his vest, sleeves rolled up and a towel slung over one shoulder. He had ushered Lemony to a seat with a headrest, politely remaining in eyeline and not making any surreptitious-looking movements. He had removed his suit jacket and pointed out that, really, you needed to be topless for this, and Lemony had said oh yes, of course, as if this had slipped his mind instead of caused him to hesitate, and taken off his shirt, and nobody had made a fuss about it, and he had actually relaxed, and now Ernest was rubbing something into his neck that smelt... incredible. It smelt of summer.

The manager was obviously skilled, that hadn't been a lie. His palms worked the oil across his flesh with just the right firmness and friction to make his skin tingle. His fingertips pressed confidently into the exact hollows that made him hum with appreciation. He wanted more than anything to drift off and allow himself to be looked after, but Lemony was still playing the game. He had to be. As casually as possible, he watched Ernest's reflection. The man seemed totally absorbed in his work. In fact, Ernest looked more peaceful than he had ever seen him before. The enigmatic smile didn't seem as forced, though still impenetrable. A slight, strange frown of concentration was on his brow. Something ancient stirred in the back of Lemony's mind. He could believe that this was a genuine pleasure for Ernest, no matter what other motives were in play. The attraction of a simple, intimate, uncomplicated, repetitive task. Lemony cleared his throat and summoned a more jovial tone.

Thank you!!! (Pick a passage or comic chapter of mine for commentary)

this ones from Double Edged so, spoilers for that. sorry if its too much and maybe incomprehensible i just wrote everything i thought in a stream

The idea of rival spies in a truce having an unspoken etiquette about making sure the other person can see what they’re doing clearly at all times really amused me and also seemed like a natural progression for people who just, Live Like This all the time. Kind of like the body language animals develop to deliberately signal trust and lack of threat? Like when cats do the long blink or prey animals make a big show of laying down near you. Of course then you have it as a reassuring gesture, and that gesture being false, and I’ve set myself up for the whole rest of the thing to be about successfully and realistically (enough) distracting Lemony without him noticing.

Humans are the animals that do this too, of course. it is the same thing as normal body language just made more pointed. I have Ernest as having complete control over his body language and complete observation of everyone elses, in a Derren Brown type reading/manipulation style.

I like slipping dialogue into the narration here because it cuts out a lot of stuff that’s boring to read and skips a bit of time by having Lemony reflect on things that have just happened. the whole thing is in past tense but this is like, a few minutes further past tense than everything else. Means I can just put the pertinent things. Also it was very important for this bit to happen very fast so that you get his POV sense of being swept along with ‘naturally unfolding’ events. It buries the fact that Ernest now has possession of Lemony’s jacket by making the second half of that sentence much more engaging and interesting looking and easy to move on to - which is exactly what Ernest is doing by saying something distracting as he performs the natural gesture. It’s all about giving the reader the same experience as Lemony, that’s the goal for this one.

Lem is a bit nervous about taking clothes off - which is reasonable, actually - but also he’s a bit precious about it in general because of a lifetime habit of showing skin equalling danger (tattoo) and being vulnerable (without disguise or situation-appropriate clothing). I’m thinking of socks and the symbolic importance of clothes in atwq, the reliance on the disguise kit forever, the scene-appropriate netflix outfits to blend in all the time. That’s whats canon anyway - this all also contributes to my headcanon of trans Lemony, and I made sure to imply top surgery scars in the illustration. Again, vital to remember that its Lem’s POV (even though it’s not in first person), so ‘nobody made a fuss about it’ both tells you his relief that no comment about his body (whether salacious or surprise or mockery) was made and cements that he was nervous in the first place.

Of course Ernest wouldnt say anything, or even visibly react at all. He is a practiced expert of the service industry.

This is also in contrast with Jacques, who has complete confidence in showing skin. Lem feigning absent-mindedness to disguise hesitation feeds into the overall ongoing thing of Lemony trying to be smooth, and I reckon hes’s coping by pulling directly from how he’s seen Jacques act. This whole seductive wiles angle isn’t really Lemony’s scene and his awkward phrasing and justifications in his own thoughts about it reflects this. Pretending to be going along with stuff he can do, but the playful flirty aspect is different and throws him a bit. So its pretty much all from what he knows of J’s playbook. Of course Ernest isn’t fooled by the faux casualness, and Lemony knows he isnt, but its the polite etiquette to go along with face value that makes everyone more comfortable. Lot of that in this fic.

‘and he had actually relaxed’ the word ‘actually’ implying his surprise as he’d been intending to only pretend to relax - same with ‘that hadn’t been a lie’, as in, well *that* at least was true. Lem is double checking literally everything Ernest says. The fact that he is actually a practiced masseuse sells the idea to Lemony that this is not just a ruse to get his top off or whatever. And at the same time reassures the reader that Lem is not actually being a complete idiot - he is constantly suspicious of everything as always, and remains so throughout

It smelt of summer.... I wanted a feeling more than a specific scent. Its how it makes him feel. He can’t pinpoint it exactly because its too evocative. To me, smelling of summer evokes warm spice and mango. Also, the sudden switch from a factual barrage to slow and conceptual is a strong feeling.

The fast pacing and then the sudden slow at the end of the paragraph like a sigh. Like the feeling of being swept along and then being a bit bewildered, bit ‘i can’t beleive this is actually happening’, bit ‘how did i get here’, bit proper relaxing.

Then slow and meandering pacing, to match Ernest’s hands. Palm oil. Flesh Firmness Friction.

Ernest said pointedly earlier that the mirror was for Lemony to watch him, to feel safe. So he is well aware - and is in fact encouraging - that Lemony study his reflection at this point. However, I hope I managed to get a good genuine vibe in here. Ernest enjoys this, and is finding it relaxing. Probably the actual genuine feeling from him is a huge advantage to calming Lemony down, Lem can probably pick up on fakeness very well subconsciously, so the verisimilitude is Ernest’s best weapon. Also, he wants for selfish reasons. He doesn’t get physical contact because of his position, and when he does its not someone that understands why. And Lemony understands him. And he understands Lemony. Better than most on their respective sides do. Lem even acknowledges in his own narration - 'genuine pleasure... no matter what other motives were in play’ - that the truth and the trick are not mutually exclusive. he gets it.

Very intentional focus on enigmatic smile and brow in quick succession, which happens repeated through the story - yes we are invoking Ellington this fic, more quietly at first and then stronger later. A stirring of something ancient, you might say.

And yes, the mind naturally wanders to other simple, intimate, uncomplicated, repetitive tasks and he has to shut that line of thought down immediately, something Lemony gets increasingly worse at doing as the fic goes on. Shoving words like ‘pleasure’ and ‘stirring’ and that technically accurate description together heavily implies Lem’s growing arousal. Just to really spell that out. Just in case. If it’s missed it would be there subliminally enough im sure.

Thanks for asking and a great choice of section, I havent read this commentary back so here it is have it immediately before i remember what i forgot and edit forever

#tangentiallly #my fic #asoue #lemony snicket #ernest denouement #lemzest

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brawltogethernow · 4 years

Text

So the problem starts, the problem starts when Kaine agrees to go to a bake sale.

This little old lady put her hand on his face, see? What are little old ladies doing putting their hands on his face? Doesn’t she know he could snap her neck with a finger twitch?

“You are a good Catholic boy,” she says. “I know one when I see one,” she interrupts when he opens his mouth to protest, though he wasn’t yet decided which descriptor to zero in on first. “You are always at confession.”

Kaine may, possibly, have been using confession as a kind of no-papers-required stand-in for therapy. Or maybe a no-blood-shed-Aracely-isn’t-glaring-at-me stand-in for hurting himself.

He has enough brain cells not to say this. Barely.

“Thank you,” he says instead, and tries to pull away.

She leans with him. Her hands remain on his face.

“But I never see you anywhere else!” she says. “You must come to the bake sale. It’s on Friday.”

“Okay,” says Kaine’s mouth entirely without his input. He was born with an inbuilt structural weakness against little old battle axes. He attributes this to the ghost echoes of Peter Parker’s idyllic childhood.

“So what are we making?” demands Aracely as soon as he returns to the presidential suite. “Lemon bars? People on TV make lemon bars. What is a lemon bar?”

Sometimes, Kaine is more glad than anything that she's always eavesdropping on the inside of his head. Often, he’d cut off a limb, hell, all his limbs, to keep her out. He'd grow a bunch of spider legs again and then cut those off. He’s not sure exactly where this falls between the two extremes. But definitely closer to the negative side.

“Oh,” she says as if he answered, tipping her head. She’s turned around on the couch and sat up on her knees and braced her arms on the back of it to see him better. “You don’t know either. That’s okay, we can Google it.”

So they burn the kitchenette a little bit.

"We can rebuild it," says Arcacely. "We have the technology."

He definitely leaves her in front of the TV too much. But what's the alternative, bringing her with him more?

"Yes, it is," says Aracely like he spoke out loud. "And that is but one more reason why you should do that."

"Hell no," says Kaine, and books it out of the suite fast enough that he can pretend he didn't hear her shout, "Swear jar!"

He finds the maid who most often handles their rooms. He hands her a stack of hundreds for her trouble, then gives her a couple more because he can tell the exchange has scared her. He tells her the hotel can bill him the damages. And then he asks her how to get to the hotel kitchen.

Aracely appears, out of breath, as he finishes bribing his way into use of a stove. Her ability to do this is one reason among many why he doesn't own a cellphone.

"You could have just asked them," she chirps, methodically going through the room and opening, examining, and then closing every drawer. It's empty right now, so there's no one to stop her. "I think they would have just let us use the kitchen. The people here like you."

"No, they don't," corrects Kaine. "And who cares? It's not like we need to save money." He can just go hit more human traffickers if he runs low. And since he spends a lot of his time doing this even when he's not running low, he is in absolutely no danger of running low. He's pretty sure he could buy a yacht, or a politician.

"Success!" proclaims Aracely, and when Kaine turns around she's holding a clear plastic tub of brown powder over her head. There's a piece of paper laminated to the side with text printed on it that might be a recipe. "Brownie mix!"

"That is not food," declares Aracely of their creation. "No one is going to buy that."

Kaine leans over to examine it. It's kind of...grainy.

"Brownie sand," says Aracely. "Could we start a new trend?"

Kaine sighs. They should have known trying to quarter the banquet-sized serving on the tub was a bad idea. They have clearly miscalculated on some ephemeral measurement level. They've angered the baking gods.

"Are there baking gods?" inquires Aracely.

"Why don't you ask the Catholics," says Kaine, and tugs her away to tip the cleaning staff again.

“This is good too,” says Aracely, presiding over the storebought tubs of those weird shitty grocery store cookies that are mostly icing that they brought instead.

“I don’t even know how I got here,” says Kaine. “What are we doing here?”

His nose twitches. He’s not sure if one of them still smells like burnt lemons or if he’s just imagining it. He does know that he’s avoiding anything lemony for a long time.

The woman who got him into this sidles up to them shortly after they set up, looking very pleased to see him there.

"Always good to see fresh faces," she says, and winks at him.

She continues to talk in a way that stays steadily one step to the left of him feeling like he has a firm grasp on the conversation. Possibly that's because he's overthinking things and doubting whether he's correctly interpreting a single word she's saying. What even is "the congregation", in this context?

He looks at Aracely.

She shrugs.

Is it a list. Do you have to complete a set of tasks to qualify. Are there membership cards?

Aracely shrugs a little more beffudledly. Her reeducation via television and following a vigilante around active crime scenes must not have taught her about this.

The bake sale is to raise money to fix the air conditioner. This means that the building is the same temperature inside as it is outside. The best description he can come up with for the response the people in the room are having to the sweltering temperature is "cheerfully miserable".

Other than that it's...weird. Festival-ish? It kind of plucks the strings of memories that don't belong to him of May Parker presiding over neighborhood events with an endlessly gentle iron fist, but it also doesn't. He also kind of feels like he is impersonating someone who is actually supposed to be here. But that's nothing new.

There is a big confused snarl in Kaine's chest made mostly of other people's experiences that he can't even begin to interpret if he pings himself about the concept of "God". He thought that might be a problem if he just walked in here and...socialized.

It is not. No one is asking him about God.

"What do you think about the setup this time?" a woman with a thin mouth and long, spindly fingers demands. Her lipstick is the same shade as Annabelle's hair and her turtleneck suggests a total lack of concern for the wet Houston heat that Kaine finds honestly terrifying.

"The--?" he starts to answer.

"It's definitely for the best they didn't decide to hold it in the basement again," she continues, saving him from answering her not-really-a-question. "I mean, why? The lobby has all these lovely windows."

She gestures. Kaine nods along, his adrenaline spiking more than it ever has for any interaction with a werewolf or a most dangerous game type with a knife.

Thus follows a brief interaction where Kaine hums or nods when appropriate, and in return learns that she's very invested in the greater accessibility of the lobby, she plays piano on a volunteer basis for the church, and she knows he's "one of Marie's injections of fresh blood" but doesn't seem interested on calling him out for not belonging here.

"Do come to the community breakfast tomorrow," she finishes, buys two cookies, and leaves.

The emotional aftermath is akin to having weathered a near-death experience.

Aracely has found an older couple to speak Spanish with and is chirping away at the same blistering clip typical of her English, but with a more fluid cadence that betrays it's at least one of her native languages. The in-his-head thing doesn't really go both ways, so he has no idea what they're talking about. Probably something he'd regret knowing. What if she is asking them about baking gods.

A guy in a priest...collar...thing...who Kaine hopes desperately is not the one he sometimes monopolizes, or, failing that, does not recognize him, has sprouted up to make polite conversation.

"Not a bad turnout today, eh?" he says.

"Good thing they moved it back into the lobby," tries Kaine.

The priest beams at him like he's repeated the secret code.

"So true," he says.

Kaine is totally mastering churches. This is great. He bets if it were Peter in his place he would have started a fight by now.

"I think that went well," says Aracely after they've retreated to the suite and she's curled back up on the couch with a bowl of...something. She stabs the contents of the bowl with a spoon. "We should definitely do that again. Socializing with your community is almost as important as scaring away all its drug lords!"

"They're not my community," says Kaine. Not just the Catholic church a few blocks away from the hotel, which he still thinks he prefers from inside an anonymous guilt box. Houston is not Kaine's community. He does not have, does not get to have, a community. (Aracely rolls her eyes in an incredibly teenagery way, projecting exasperation either at his answer or his train of thought.) "What are you eating?"

She salutes him with her spoon. "Brownie sand! It's very edible!"

"Ichh," says Kaine.

"It's good for you!" Aracely declares. She looks dubiously down at her bowl, and corrects, "It's not actively bad for you!"

"No more chocolate," says Kaine. "No more lemons. No."

"But maybe some more bake sales?"

"...Maybe."

"Yes!"

On AO3 (where the title and summary can be considered a bonus gag). Last year the GG Discord was talking about how the Marvel wiki categorizes characters by religious affiliation, which led to questioning why Kaine Parker was listed as Catholic. I reported back several months later after I read Scarlet Spider that it was because he started going to confession after being thrown through a church wall, which prompted gelpenss to pitch the mental image of Kaine showing up to one of the less cinematic things people do in churches.

#kaine parker #aracely penalba #scarlet spider #spiderman #spidey #marvel #w #fic #this corner of the fandom is dime-sized lol #i'll be real that i stopped editing this when i saw i'd accidentally authored a story with a church of exactly 1666 words like #that's too funny i'm sorry

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rizukinocte · 4 years

Text

long ago, when I knew that to be married is to have child(ren), and to have child(ren) is to have sex with your spouse, my innocent, sweet-summer-child self said, "ew, no."

years after that, and after puberty, and after getting exposed to the deep, dark, nebulous thing named Internet and finally understood what sex was, my bar for spouse upgraded into "uughh, gross."

but years of exposure of 'heteroromantic culture' from young age still left marks for my feeling. 'I want to have boyfriend,' I thought, not knowing what even the use for them. I just want to feel that 'romance' feeling my friends have with their boy/girlfriends. Sometimes, I unconsciously staring at them when they sitting together shoulder-to-shoulder, whispering quietly about while reading a book, or the way they text each other in class, or they way they gravitated into each other after school, went home together. Those time I always caught myself watching them like that and getting confused. (but now I knew why I watching them together. My friends always get this particular atmosphere that my brain always translated as a ‘quiet happiness’...)

not that all couples ended up all the way through, sometimes they’re broken up. Whether the cause is cheating, abuses, or just plain didn’t work out.

when I was in highschool, I want to get a boyfriend. With the standards that I practically ripped from shoujo mangas: ‘handsome’ ‘kind’ ‘somewhat edgy’ ‘very popular’ ‘secretly rich’ ‘black haired megane’ or ‘light haired deliquent’ and other typical male lead characteristics in shoujo genre. Yes, I knew it was impossible to have even a fourth of the standards, but let me dream, okay. Incidentally, those years are my first exposure to the wonder of BL genre and I never regret it. Okay I regret it a bit bc that was my first time jay-walking into hell lemon literatures, especially when I knew the different between BL lemony goodness and hetero lemon. goddamn, plunging straight into virgin vagina surely hurt, you know? no matter what pleasure that happen after that, the first few minute you stick your dick into virgin vagina you must tearing that delicate membrane, you know? that’s why virgin bleed when fucking for first time. they practically tearing a part of their body that will never be whole again

I went into physical puberty, get an inconvenient pair of breast to prove it, a whole goddamn bleeding cycles, and other convenient and inconvenient things. But now that I thought about it, I still not getting the mental part finished up yet. Remember my time in highschool is... pleasing, in a way. I love my friends, our solidarity is... something that I miss dearly. I had a crush to this handsome boy in another class. Or what I think is a crush, because he has pretty face. Remember what may first on the list of my standards? Yeah, pretty, handsome face. Because, y’know, shoujo exposures.

But reality is different than storylines, because when he just living his life, I really, really, really want him to notice me. But when he did notice me, I just... shut down. bluescreen of death. there’s no one in the house. Half of it was my inexperience of getting flirted on, and half of that was.... well. I don’t need it. I mean, I have this distinct feelings that our expectations after becoming couples is different. Maybe he want to do the couple things like went into movie, texting each other, calling each other, cuddles, etc etc. But I’m introvert, it’s troublesome to texting people as they expect me at certain times, asking them eat regularly, bath regularly, sleep regularly, like am I their mother? And when i don’t do those thing, it’s like I was breaking some unwritten couple codes. It was troublesome.

So yeah, probably I’m due for normal mental growth.

I think it happened at my early college years. Now I ‘knew’ the unwritten codes, I can differentiate between fun filrting and genuine interest, even if that was still hit-and-miss even now. I read my depth in erotica, smut, and sensual literatures. I read hentai. Sometimes the urge resurfaces and I need to stratch the itches and watch some prons. I’m an adult, I can do that. (no it’s not typos i just need to prevent suspicious definitely bot pron blogs to follow me)

I begin to realize that I tend to watched the 3D prons, or as I said it, the ‘fictional’ ones. I always get this gross feeling watching the real people prons, so I tend to avoid them. And even when I read/watch these prons it was like I’m in meditative trance, my emotions never wavering, never blushing, never get the urge to do myself, never ‘hot under the collar’. Just. Meditative trance watching these fictional graphic people fucking or be fucked, with skipping in the too long scenes.

“...Huh.” I realized.

Maybe I’m asexual?

And cue for frantic, hours surfing the internet and reading references material.

After that, I began to understand my need for boyfriend in the past years. I want someone that care for me and I care for, that I can just have casual touches, hugs, cuddles, without the more intimate expectations of the relationship. Maybe fell asleep together in bed without the unwritten codes that said sleep together is a consent for sex, cuddles and hugs is not the ‘invitation’ for get a feeling under the clothes, or casual touching of shoulder or arms or face is not a given to touch other body parts, or, or, or...

So yeah. I’m ace.

And now, I got a second question that haunting me.

Am I an aromantic?

Because, even when I really want a significant other, isn’t love need for romantic relationship? how do you even describe love? Is it the butterflies in your stomach or your ulcer pain? Is it the way the world is out of focus and the only bright focus only in them, or is it because your myopic eyes? Is it the way they never disappeared from your mind or because their really funny jokes that you can’t forget?

What is love, really?

#and then i get the latest existential crisis #over feeling of love #when my lizard brain screaming about the 3 days deadline #and my hands and forefront brain still writing this #asexual problems #ace problems #aro problems #am i even an aro?#asking for a friend #even my icon picture was screaming at me

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justgottafinishthischapter · 5 years

Text

Deciding on a POV

There are many ways to tell a story, and each one comes with a benefit or a downside. Still, I figured it’s worth going over the different ways each can be effective.

First Person

Reliable Narrator: A story with a reliable First Person narrator is one of the most common narrative styles. What this means is that the reader can trust what the narrator is telling them is the truth as it actually happened. Think Percy Jackson in the Percy Jackson and the Olympians Series.The reliable narrator is far more common than the unreliable variety. The benefit of this narrative style is that it mirrors how we tell stories verbally. If something happened to me, and I tell my friend what happened, I am going to use First Person narration to explain the events that transpired. Thus, this can feel like the most organic option. It also allows for total access to the POV character’s thoughts, allowing readers to see how they reached a conclusion, or why they’re acting a certain way. However, this can come with the problem of not being able to get inside the head of anyone except for the narrator. Now, while it’s standard for the First Person narrator to be the main character, it isn’t always the case. If the narrator is some sort of omniscient, bystander, or divine presence, whether they interact with the characters or not, it technically falls under First Person if they voice their opinion using I statements. The figure of Death in The Book Thief is a good example of this, as Death uses I and me in the narrative of the story. Because the story is set in Germany during World War II, the narrator of Death sees the protagonist, Liesel, frequently, and thus we’re able to get a narrator who is observing a protagonist from outside of her immediate story.

Unreliable Narrator: An Unreliable narrator is going to be the exact opposite. They tell the story, but take their story with a grain of salt. Whether their perception of reality is distorted, they’re using metaphors and symbolic imagery to tell the story, or they’re telling the story from a very narrow viewpoint, the unreliable narrator can be a good choice to get the reader to engage with the story and think critically about the work. Rugrats is a good example of this type of storytelling, as the main characters are babies, and therefore often mistake things for something else, making them unreliable narrators. This type works well if you want to tell a more abstract story. For instance, an entire story is about a boy chasing after a red balloon, but that red balloon itself represents accepting his mother’s death. Suddenly everything experienced becomes unreliable, leaving the reader wondering if the foes he defeated or the desert he crossed was literal, and he went on an actual journey to come to terms with his mother’s death, or was everything figurative, and the journey was more symbolic and allegorical? An unreliable narrator can play with these questions, blur the lines between reality and fiction, and leave their readers asking questions.

Third Person

Omniscient: Lemony Snicket is a perfect example of a great omniscient narrator. Mr. Snicket knows everything about every character, knows what’s going to happen before it happens, and comments on everything. Lemony Snicket himself is not a character in the story. Rather he recounts the story much like the First Person style, but from an outside perspective. Instead of being part of the story, Lemony Snicket is telling us about the Baudelaire children through the lens of the all-knowing and opinionated narrator. It’s not entirely uncommon for this type of narrator to be some supernatural force, a wise old sage, or someone who lived through an experience recounting the tale many years later. In fact it could be rather fun to play with this last one, having the story almost be told like a myth or legend, but having the narrator constantly side track to discuss how historians know and gathered the information for this story, only to reveal the narrator isn’t some omniscient being, but just a docent in a museum giving a tour and explaining an old myth to the patrons.

Limited: With a Limited POV, the reader learns things as the narrator does. Even though the narrator is the one telling the story, their information is only up to date with whatever is currently happening on the page. This and First Person are the two POV types most likely to appear in a mystery novel, or any novel where a mystery or unanswered questions drives the plot. Harry Potter is a series written in Limited Third Person. The story follows Harry, and the reader only learns information as Harry does. And every year, Harry is faced with the recurring mystery element of figuring out what’s going on, and stopping whatever their plan was. However, because the narrator only knows what the protagonist knows, this can allow you to play around with giving the narrator a personality, and having them comment or react to things as they happen, perhaps even mirroring the way you hope the readers are responding.

Objective: Think of Objective Point of View as watching a tv show. Anyone who’s into shipping has to read into objective romantic coding. Two characters held eye contact for five seconds? You the reader have to interpret that as you will. Objective is strangely both the most human and the most robotic point of view. At its most human, Objective treats the narration like a normal person. They can’t read the thoughts of other characters, they don’t know more than the hero or reader, and you’re effectively just a bystander in the crowd watching things happen with no context clues about what’s happening inside a character’s head. On the opposite end, it can also be the most robotic because it is the most lacking in human connection, as it leaves the reader detached from the characters themselves. However, a liberating or perhaps crippling aspect of this POV style is that it frees the author of show don’t tell because this type of POV can’t enter anyone’s minds or go on a rant about a character’s feelings about someone else. You just have to take what you get at face value and all information has to be conveyed through your characters and story, whether directly through dialogue, or subtly through background details.

Switching POVs

Most stories tend to stick with a single narrator. Stories can be complicated when one person is giving an opinion, but when multiple people are talking, it can be hard to find a voice and plot for each of them. And if you’re planning on writing a series, you may run into the problem of some characters having meatier plots than others. It’s for this reason that when it comes to watching Game of Thrones, I always groan internally whenver the story cuts back to Bran or Jon at the Wall. It’s a scene or two of people standing around being cold or talking about being cold and something something three-eyed raven and then we finally get back to the part I’m more interested in: the political games of manipulation and intrigue. But that’s also a strength of changing POVs. With something like Game of Thrones, you might not necessarily like every storyline happening, but you’re more likely to enjoy one. In a sense, Game of Thrones is like 11 novels stitched together, and because each is so different, you’re more likely to find something in the series that speaks to you. Conversely, when there’s multiple POVs experiencing the same thing, such as with the Heroes of Olympus series, having shifting POVs can be a good way of exploring each character. In The Lost Hero, Piper knows more about the giant waiting to fight them than either Jason or Leo, and because we have shifting POVs, we the reader get access to this otherwise Limited Third Person information from the character who already knows it, thus building dramatic tension of when the others will find out. Another benefit to this is giving unique encounters to the characters. Percy has already met Aphrodite in the past, but through Piper, Aphrodite’s daughter, we’re able to see a different side of this goddess, the goddess as a mother to someone else. This could also manifest in differing opinions of the same things. This is also part of why it works so well in Game of Thrones. Game of Thrones is a civil war story with multiple sides all vying for the same end goal. Because there are so many sides and players in the game, having so many different points of view is valueable to the story being told. If Eddard Stark was the sole protagonist, the only thing that we would know is whatever he knows. Everything Danny is doing across the narrow sea would need to be told to Ned for it to matter. And the same with Jon at the Wall. And if Jon or Danny was the sole narrator, the reader would miss out on everything happening in King’s Landing because neither Danny nor Jon are connected to that part of the plot. An entire element to the story is lost when a major POV character is dropped, which goes to show how strong George RR Martin’s writing really is. Something I like doing with multiple POVs is describing the same character in two different ways from two characters who would see them in a drastically different way. One description might paint a character as dark, alluring, and attractive, while another person might describe them as a rat-faced shifty-eyed snake that stinks of booze and dead fish. It’s the same character, but two different people see that character in entirely different ways. However, this also comes with a major backlash. It can be an absolute nightmare juggling not only so many plots, but trying to make them fit together nicely. You’ll notice this a lot with shows that emphasize drama and interconnecting storylines. They’ll be really strong in their earlier seasons, then peter out once they’ve hit the creative brick wall. It happened to Once Upon a Time and to a lesser extent, Glee. Both shows had tightly knit and compelling drama in season 1, but by season 4, both shows felt like they were just going through the motions and had lost the edge that made them interesting. Even with something as well-written as Game of Thrones, it’s still possible to have someone’s story be weaker than everyone else’s. Arya Stark for instance spent the first couple of seasons focused on learning to sword fighting, then once the Hound died, she went to Braavos, but it always kind of felt more like a detour than really what Arya’s story was supposed to be about. She was a little girl out for vengeance, she went to Braavos for a season or two, didn’t really learn much, and then she came back to Westeros and pretty much went right back to exactly who she was before going to Braavos. Now granted, I’m going by the TV show, but it always felt to me at least that Arya’s vacation in Braavos was just kind of George not knowing what to do with her as he built up to the big climactic battle. So if you’re going to use shifting POVs, it’s important to weigh the pros and the cons carefully.

#writing #writing tips #writing advice #pov #writer problems #writing your book #do it write #points of view #point of view

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ktlsyrtis · 4 years

Note

lemony: 1, 11, 14, 31

This is actually more smut-adjacent than anything. And I’m definitely going to work on those other prompts - thank you!

31. “Face down on the bed. Now.”

It occurs to Elly that perhaps, just this once, she’s pushed things a bit too far.

The cab is uncomfortably silent as they wend their way to Jill’s flat across town. Every few seconds Elly risks a furtive glance to her left, and each time she finds Jill staring out the window, a sense of casual disregard coming off her in waves.

It makes Elly’s skin crawl with anxiety.

They’d ended up at the same crime scene, Jill and her team called in when things got a little out of hand with a man Elly was investigating. It was nothing she couldn’t handle, Elly thinks, stretching the sore wrist that’s going to bruise by morning. She’s certainly been in worse situations, prides herself on coming away (mostly) unscathed.

So when Jill stormed up with a face like thunder, gone over all protective, it raised Elly’s hackles. She dismissed Jill’s concerns with her trademark sass, blithely ignoring the tightening around her eyes that always spells trouble.

DC Quinn took her statement, Jill looming over her shoulder like a silent shadow the entire time.

“And then the suspect grabbed you?” Quinn scribbled notes as he talked, pointedly ignoring his boss’ glare. “Can you show me where?”

Elly pulled up her sleeve, heard a strangled noise from behind as the set of five rapidly purpling marks came into view. Quinn winced in sympathy; whether for the pain or Jill’s reaction, she couldn’t say.

“That must hurt.”

Elly shrugged carelessly. “It could’ve been worse. At least he’s hot,” she added with a wink. A near deafening silence followed.

In retrospect, that may not have been her best choice.

As soon as Quinn finished with her, Jill announced that she would escort the witness home, and frog-marched Elly into the nearest taxi. Gave the man her address before Elly could even open her mouth.

Jill hasn’t said a word since.

Elly’s mind churns, cycles through endless ways to explain, to apologize, but nothing feels like enough. Not when every line of Jill’s body screams that she has no interest in anything Elly has to say.

And really, there is no justification. This is just how they are. Jill sets a line, Elly pushes over it, sees how far she can get away with. It’s been like that since the very beginning, well before they were anything more than professional acquaintances.

It’s the silence that’s driving her spare. Jill Raymond can be stern. Demanding. Distant, even. But she’s rarely silent, as her neighbors can attest from their spirited rows, and the making up that follows.

In the absence, all of Elly’s old fears claw their way to the surface. She worries that this is it, she’s finally pushed too far, that Jill is going to leave. Just like Max. Just like Larry.

By the time the pull up to the flat, Elly is fully convinced Jill is going to ask her to pack her things and go. She presses a finger to the bruises on her wrist as she follows Jill in, the pain focusing her, keeping her from bursting into tears.

The door slams behind her, and Jill strides away into the bedroom. Elly dithers in the doorway, uncertain what she’s supposed to do now. All she hears from the other room is the rustle of fabric, drawers opening and closing.

Eventually she just gives up, starts shoving things into her bag. Once Jill ends things, she wants to leave as fast as she possibly can.

“Eliza.”

Elly freezes, heart hammering in her chest. Slowly she sets her bag on the floor, turns toward the implacable voice.

Jill has discarded her coat, and the waistcoat underneath, stands in the doorway in her perfectly tailored trousers and crisp white shirt. Her cufflinks are gone, and she’s slowly rolling her sleeves, revealing the lean strength of her forearms, dark eyes burning into Elly from across the room. Not with anger, not really. It’s more like…

“Face down on the bed. Now.”

Oh.

Elly forces herself to walk slowly, calmly, ignoring the sudden throbbing between her thighs. Passes Jill, close enough to feel the heat of her body, the tension, the need.

She hopes, for their sakes, that the neighbors are out for the night.

#jill x elly #my fic #jill raymond #elly chandler #replies #bonnissance

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queenmylovely · 4 years

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congratulations on 800 love!! idk if you write for lucy (if you don't you can just write for rog or ben instead, whatever you prefer) but i've had this idea in my mind for weeks now about going on a date with lucy for the first time (i'm thinking dinner? even though it's super cliche lmao) and it's like super romantic and intimate 🥺 maybe you could make this a blurb or hc? 🤭

Oh my gosh, yes I write for Lucy! At least, I do now as this is the first thing I’ve written for her. The concept is not cliche, it’s perfect and this made me so soft, thanks for sending it in 💖 (under the cut cause it’s 1.5k, just fluff)

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💖💖💖

Getting out of your uber, you smoothed down your dress and exhaled slowly to calm the nerves you were feeling. The nerves were due to the fact that you were going on your first date with a friend of a friend, Lucy. But the excitement you felt overpowered the nerves. You had already met her once before, at a dinner party at your mutual friend, Gwil’s place. The two of you had instantly caught each other’s eye and made flirty eye contact from either end of the table all night. By the time everyone was leaving, you had worked up the courage to ask for her number and had made plans for the next weekend.

You were walking to the doors of the restaurant, wondering whether Lucy was already inside or if she was still on her way. The latter seemed to be true when you looked around the waiting area and didn’t see her. There was a short line leading to the host station so you went to the end and stood there, glancing at your watch to see that you were exactly two minutes early.

Standing there, you looked around the restaurant and were pleased that you had told Lucy to choose where you went since it looked very nice; the perfect ambience and atmosphere. You were only there for about a minute when you heard your name.

Turning, you saw Lucy walking over to you and smiled brightly to match hers. She came up next to you, scooting past the person in line behind you and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Have you been waiting long?” she asked, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. Then she looked at you expectantly.

You realized you had just been staring at her, admiring the way her hair framed her face perfectly, the flattering cut of her dress and how she was just a tad taller than you in her heels. Smiling sheepishly you told her, “No, just a minute. You look beautiful by the way.”

Lucy smiled, looking at you happily as her cheeks became a very cute shade of pink, “Thank you, so do you.”

By then, you were at the front of the line and Lucy relayed the reservation information, then the host took you to your table. You sat down across from each other and then started to look at the menu.

“I know we literally just started looking, but do you have an idea of what you want? They have a great red or white if you want to pair it with your meal,” Lucy offered and you grimaced a little. Lucy joked, “What, am I being too controlling?”

“No, not at all. I just don’t like wine,” you said with a laugh.

“Oh, thinking back I do remember you having a G&T instead of Gwil’s rosé,” Lucy replied with a knowing look. “Is that your go-to?”

“Well it’s what most people have stuff for,” you answered. “But I’ll go for a mojito if I can. Like I think I’m gonna go with this peach one.”

“Ooo that looks good,” Lucy said, looking on her menu where you were pointing. “I think I’ll join you.”

A few minutes later, you had your drinks and had ordered your food. The two of you were chatting about work and upcoming projects. Lucy was happy to answer your questions about the films and shows she was working on, but was happier hearing about your job.

“Wow, as someone who’s always just working with someone else’s ideas, it’s wild to me that you actually create everything you do,” she said, her eyes wide.

“Well, we have a group that works on every project, but yeah, a lot of what I do is on my own,” you amended, feeling a rush of pride for what you did based on Lucy’s interest. “But acting definitely takes a bit of creativity, right? Like you have to decide how you’re going to do things.”

“That’s true,” Lucy said with a nod, “You seem to understand a lot of it for someone who said she didn’t ever do any acting.”

“I may have never done any formal acting, nor do I want to,” you shook your head, “However, I’ve been running lines with Gwil since the first year of uni.”

Lucy burst into laughter and you laughed with her but found yourself feeling an inexplicable amount of adoration for her as you did.

“Tell me,” she said with a conspiratorial look and through a few giggles. She leaned closer, her voice getting softer and the scent of her perfume growing stronger, “Has he always been this… pretentious?”

You looked at her in excited shock, reaching over and touching her arm, “Oh my gosh, you think so too?”

She let out a relieved laugh, quickly looking down at your hand, “Yes, but I swear no one else sees it!”

“It’s his ability to charm the shit out of everybody he meets. Never really worked on me though, as much as I love him,” you admitted, lifting your hand to gesture to yourself.

“No, me neither,” Lucy agreed, looking at you so intently that your heartbeat sped up.

“Let’s just say that his 20 minute spiel about the rosé was a repeat performance from one in uni, only then the bottle was worth $8 instead of $35,” you said with a smirk.

Lucy’s face broke into a smile as she laughed, her eyes sparkling. She hit your shoulder lightly, “You’re so bad!” but the look on her face told you she thought anything but.

Half an hour later, the food was eaten and you were looking at the dessert menu together.

“Okay, but the real question is do you like lemons? Because they have an amazing lemon soufflé with a raspberry sauce that is to die for,” Lucy suggested hopefully.

“Sounds perfect,” you told her with a smile.

When the dessert came, you dug into it together, and Lucy tried to ignore the bolt of heat that went through her when you moaned at the taste.

“This is so fucking good,” you said through a half-full mouth and Lucy chuckled. You swallowed your bite and continued, “You know, you have incredible taste. This restaurant, your outfit, this dessert!”

“You,” she added and you felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment, shoving another bite of raspberry covered lemony dessert into your mouth to keep you from saying something dumb.

The two of you continued eating and chatting, playfully using your spoons to fight for the best bites. As she smiled and laughed yet again you felt yourself stumble further down the path of falling in love with her already.

When the check came, you told her that since you were the one that had asked her out you were going to pay and if she wanted to pay then she’d just have to ask you out another time. She looked determined when she said she would.

Since neither of you had driven, you decided to share a car. It allowed for you to sit closer together than any other point in the evening, with your hands resting next to each other’s on the seat and your pinkies brushing together.

You took turns pointing out different things like good restaurants, a hidden shop full of local artist’s work, and eventually just random places you had been as an excuse to lean closer to the other.

The car arrived at your place first since it was closer to the restaurant and Lucy offered to walk you to your door. As you climbed out and fished for your keys, she leaned in the window and told the driver to wait.

She went with you to the entrance of the building and the two of you stood a little to the side to be out of the way.

“I had a really good time tonight,” you said with a soft smile.

“Me too,” Lucy told you. “You’re a great first date. And I’m sure you’ll be an even better second one.”

Your smile grew, already excited for more.

“And you’re so cute,” Lucy added, unable to help herself when you smiled.

You were about to compliment her as well when she leaned forward and kissed you. Her lips were soft and warm and when you didn’t pull away, she brought her right hand to your waist and her left to your cheek to keep you close. Feeling her tongue slide along your lower lip, you opened your mouth for her and brought your left hand to her shoulder and your right one to hold hers in place.

Sighing into the kiss, you enjoyed what you hoped was the first of many, many kisses to come. After a minute, you pulled back and her lips followed yours so you pressed another quick kiss to them.

“The car’s still waiting,” you pointed out.

Lucy blushed, “Oh right, I should--”

“Tell them to leave and then come in with me,” you said, looking at her suggestively.

Lucy was surprised that you were being so forward, but as surprised as she was, she loved it even more and nodded quickly.

“I’ll go do that. Be right back,” she told you, sneaking another little kiss before she turned and rushed down the path back to the car.

You saw the driver shift into gear and start to drive away as Lucy looked back and smiled at you. She was back next to you in a moment, and she grabbed your hand as you unlocked the door with the other.

💖💖💖

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#oh luce we in it now #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #lucy boynton #luz #lucy boynton x reader #bohemian rhapsody x reader #thefairyfellersmasterstroke #borhap x reader #blurb #qml 800 celebration #queenmylovely #fluff

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rockmiyabideusexmachina · 4 years

Text

2020 Megaman Valentine’s Day Contest - Cat. 1 (Talent) Results!

Thank you to everyone again for your patience! This is getting posted way later than I wanted to. As much as I try to keep it short and sweet, I never do, so bear with my walls of text.

For the talent category this year, the theme was about killing Mega Man with kindness. More specifically, entrants had to create their own original love/Valentine’s-themed Robot Master or equivalent boss character that was created to defeat Mega Man with the power of love! Even though the theme title and concept alluded more to the classic Robot Master character contests, designs for any series were acceptable. But other than one Navi and one Reploid entry, everyone stuck to a Classic-series themed creation. So you were all pretty consistent!

There were a total of 16 entries for this category this year. Thank you all for your participation! It was extremely hard to choose winners for this category, because you all had really clever and creative concepts based off of this theme. So thank you for thinking up such clever and cool characters!!

Also thanks to Reploid 21XX for the coloring book prizes and for some additional insight.

Again, raffle prize winners will be contained in both posts, so keep an eye out between your name and your art. Not all raffle prize winners are contained in this post. I’ll be contacting all winners soon enough, so sit tight! Might be late after work tonight, so don’t panic if you don’t hear from me right after this is posted.

Your category winners and full gallery of entries are right here, after the break:

Category 1 (Talent) - Dr. Wily’s Greatest Creation: Killing Mega Man With Kindness

[Full Talent Gallery]

1.) @mo-sketchbook:

*For coming in 1st, mo-sketchbook has won $100 via Paypal, or a prize of their choice up to that value AND a Rockman 7 Coloring Book.*

First and foremost, I appreciate all the effort you put into covering so many aspects of your creation, from the various design viewpoints, weapon get form for Mega Man, and showing the weapon in action. I really loved all the things you integrated into the design to give off the feeling that it is a love-based character. The “love bug” form, cherub-like Heat/Plug-type facial features, and how you utilized hearts in different ways for his design and powers.

I’m no Keiji Inafune, but I feel like this is a concept he would greenlight, in terms of it following his Robot Master design formula. It doesn’t need to be super detailed or flashy, but still fits the mold very well! The thought of the hearts missing their target and love energy then getting weaker is actually pretty clever, too. Cute, and I wuv it.

2.) @peachycircuits:

*For coming in 2nd, peachy has won $50 via Paypal, or a prize of their choice up to that value AND a Rockman 7 Coloring Book*

As usual, on the technical side of things, your art is one of the more polished and clean entries of the bunch. Combining a couple different aspects - swans as a creature known as a symbol of love, bonded for life like in marriage, and turning that into an inseparable pair of Robot Masters, was a clever way to think about your design, in terms of the theme of this category.

And then echoing that with the iconic Swan Lake, making them ballet dancers, is like taking Tundra Man and Gemini Man’s concept up another notch. Plus, not gonna lie, amused seeing Mega Man getting equipped with a tutu. LOL So even if it’s not as heart-themed as most of the other entries, I totally liked how you thought outside the box a little bit for this.

3.) Komito Amae:

*For coming in 3rd, Komito has won $25 via Paypal, or a prize of their choice up to that value*

I figured a cupid-styled arrow theme would pop up in a bunch of entries, but your Reploid, Beta, here caught my eye. Both in terms of the hearts, arrows and wings incorporated into her armor, and the pretty sweet looking buster that she and X both have equipped.

While I’m not sure how it would play out in the game, I think it would be interesting to suddenly take control of random enemies in a stage, and be able to change perspective as them for a short time, after you have shot them. Whether it would be to take out an enemy horde, or perform a task X can’t that the enemy could, it would be different! Can’t see it quite having the same powerful effect on a Maverick boss, but it’s certainly neat to think about how that could work!

And the rest of the wonderful entries, in alphabetical order by alias:

@autobot-bumblebee:

*Raffle Prize Winner* Dreamwave Comics: Issue 4 Page 15

I’m sorry you didn’t win a cash prize this time! Please don’t take me hostage! I totally loved the creative vintage chocolate factory mascot backstory, along with making your entry like an Ariga-styled character sheet page. Certainly get that retro feel with her clothing design. Her rose blade kinda reminds me of other hand-turned-blade-like-weapon characters, such as Alan Gabriel in the Big O or Ed transmuting one in FMA. Which is always a snazzy transformation for a robot!

@drewblossom:

In all honesty, if I hadn’t placed you in the humor category, I think this would have very likely been somewhere in the top 3 for this category. A cuddly teddy bear with a massive Ariga-Quick Man-sized heart for a chest, extending flailing tube arms, who just wants to hug Mega Man to death is so amusing and awesome of a design. Hugs for everyone!

FluffyFrostyFury:

Your take of heat-seeking arrows and the added high jump powers were certainly a different take compared to the other cupid-styled creations. Definitely would be nice gameplay bonuses when equipped. I like how Mega Man also has the wings sprout out of his head, to mimic Cherub Woman’s pigtails, rather than the usual spot you would assume, on his back.

HealerCharm:

Hahaha, I love how your creation has caused Mega Man to wave the white flag after falling in love...wait, it isn’t White Day, and he should be giving her a gift if it was! XD Her hair tied up into a heart was a creative touch, much like how her dress flows into all those heart shapes. Adorable!

@inanehipsterslang:

Um, can...can I count on you to vote for Bernie this election year?

Remember kids, it’s what’s on the inside that counts, looks don’t matter. Everyone deserves love, even those you consider ‘vermin.’ This was certainly an unexpected take on the theme, and gave me a good laugh, too. ‘Boiling-hot water...with a hint of citrus!’ It burns, but it smells so lemony-fresh!! XD But the two different moves fit together well, to protect and attack.

I like how you still incorporated a heart shape into Rodent Woman’s design with, both in her chest shape and the “nostril” area which is echoed in the Rodent Rover. And also props for giving her the non-armor form, unique compared to other entries.

Mattasaurs:

On the one hand, your design feels so different for a Robot Master, and maybe more Navi-like. But then I get the Astro/Galaxy-type eye vibe, and sort of a Plant Man~ish body with Devil hands feel, and see how it’d fit into Classic. It’s a unique look, and I liked it the more I inspected it. I really do love the idea of the heart bubble entrapping more and more enemies, and the big ol’ group hug ending up bursting their love bubble. It’s a different concept that stood out!

Minnie:

Our Navi of the bunch combined the love bug and cupid design, but your concept changed up the attack to suck out the energy of it’s target. Which almost made me think she should have an arrow-like mosquito nose, to feast on her target that way. XD I liked your wing shield concept and RiCO-styled skirt of hearts. Rock gets some cool shades in his Love Soul/Cross form, and I get the ProtoSoul vibe, with the shield transferring to his arm as well.

@pstart:

Another Heat/Plug-type design Share Man looks cute and sleepy, but is also “clumsy and weak.” His ability is to share body parts, so “the danger is in him sharing his less than ideal parts with his opponents.” It’s a totally neat concept, to see Mega Man lose his buster almost by accident, and now be powerless to stop Share Man. His split color scheme drives home the concept that his parts might not all be his own, and sort of a Frankenstein bot at times. Props to that idea!

While his weapon gives Mega Man the power to make enemies docile and sleepy, I really almost want to see Mega Man get dumb parts of enemies, too! Helmet switched to a Met helmet, Batton wings, a big Suzy eye! It’s now I’ve got your power...but...but what am I supposed to do with it? XD

RetroNinjin:

Unlike most others, your entry pushed the heart theme heavily in her armor design around the entire head and shoulder parts, so I definitely felt the love vibe. The color scheme fits well. Just would have liked to have had seen a little more information about her attack and concept.

RoninApprentice:

Mega Man having a “Wing Man” to set him up is a hilarious and clever idea! I give you kudos for thinking outside the box a bit on your concept and theme here. The shipping chart certainly drives the idea home, too. You still give him a classy/formal look, and keep the wing man aviation origin apparent in his attack style. Certainly a different idea having the heart bowtie transfer to Rock’s helmet in the form change, but it really doesn’t look that bad there, opposed to around his neck like it would be normally.

@star-crossed-swords:

Different from the other cupid concepts, Eros Woman utilizes a Search-Man like targeting system to hit her targets. I like the heart scope addition over her and Rock’s eye when they go into firing mode. You took a different approach to the wing concept compared to others, echoing Cinnamon’s hairstyle in many respects. But it certainly fits with the rest of her design nicely, and looks good for Mega Man’s equipped form.

@star-shaped-soul:

Love that you were able to both include a drawing and your own sprite, to mix in with the weapon equip ones. That is one powerful crush Mega Man has on his enemies now! I feel bad for Crush Man with how big and heavy those snare trap hands of his are. This seems like a Robot Master too cute for Wily to design; more like he stole him and added horrible, cruel hands onto him! This is taking a crush on someone to a whole different level! XD

Yuri Kadry:

When equipped with Cupid Man’s power, I like the visor Mega Man gets. I think this is also a clever use of the weapon, having enemies shot attracted to one another, causing them to collide into each other. Well thought out! Love the original sprite art, and he stands out nicely against the pinks and purples in the background.

#Rockman #Megaman #Mega Man #Rock Miyabi's 2020 Megaman Valentine's Day Contest

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