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#I wrote a very emotional scene last night and it still hurts
lifeofbrybooks · 1 year
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You don’t have to make yourself the villain of every story and you don’t have to try so hard to be the hero to make up for it and you don’t have to suffer for your own narrative.
You can just be.
I promise.
You’re allowed to just be.
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wanderlust-in-my-soul · 2 months
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Oh this is going to hurt... a lot.
I should be worried if the first thing I do after an episode isn't open Photoshop. Normally, I would now recall the best scenes of the series and decide on a set… But not today, even though I have the time. I once wrote that when a series can no longer catch me, you can tell by the fact that I stop making gifs… Okay, sometimes I just don't have the time. But today… I wouldn't even know which scene to choose, because there was nothing that got me, nothing that excited me and nothing that I felt emotional connected to. Instead, I have a lot of thoughts in my head that all want to get out somehow.
After the over-emotionalization of the last episode, I had actually already given up on Last Twilight. And that really hurts to admit. I loved the series from the very first second and I just thought it was so good! The problem for me was that they tried to just touch the audience's tear triggers, their emotions, all of them. And they forgot that too much of a good thing is simply not good. For me, episode 11 was right on the edge of what was bearable and I still don't think Day did the "right" thing. You're allowed to argue in a relationship and hold different opinions and then talk about why you hold a certain point of view, for example. If the other person can't deal with it, if you can't find a compromise, then you have to take the consequences, yes. But that wasn't even done here.
Day insinuated that Mhok pitied him, didn't listen to Mhok's side and today we learn that Mhok really only felt pity? Really? And that he is happy Day broke up with him so he could grow? Really? That is so fucking stupid. Day has problems with pity, that's understood and ok, but it's also ok for Mhok to make his own priorities in life and decide for himself not to want to leave, but to stay with the person he loves. But Day took that decision away from him. They could have talked about it. Different perspectives can also make a big difference. But no. Day pushes Mhok away and Mhok lies to Day… But back to tonight's episode. I was actually done with last week (yeah nope, I know). You can see that they tried to find a highly emotional ending that everyone seems to agree with and can cry into their handkerchiefs. The number of fuck yous I hurled at my laptop today shows me that the trick didn't work on me. It was all so over-emotionalized that it just felt fabricated and fake. And that's so sad, because the show felt so fucking real until episode 10. And now it was a weird cliché-ridden cringe-fest.
Honestly, if I had been dumped like Mhok and then ignored for three years, the time I spend thinking about that person would be really wasted. I'd be so fucking angry (probably not anymore after three years, I just wouldn't care). But Mhok immediately starts flirting. They pick up where they left off, but there's three years and thousands of kilometers between them. Unrealistic for me. And then Mhok just carries on, whispering to Day about what's happening and what's going on and just acting like his boyfriend again, holding his hand, helping him get dressed, showing him where everything is. I was a bit surprised that he didn't feed him. And Day is confused and just smiles. I think as a viewer I was the only person who was angry at the end. There were no bad emotions. Nothing. And that felt so fucking wrong!
And then comes the wedding and talk of second chances and of course Day says no because he's too scared someone will take pity on him. Yeah, fuck man, shit happens. and Mhok can't or won't give up. An emotional chase begins and the bride and groom leave their own wedding for the two of them and I lost faith in everything. And of course the plane is gone and of course they're all checked in because the passport was scanned and of course Mhok turned around and went back and of course he clued Night in and of course they end up doing the same dance they did back then and of course the family watches them get back together. And of course the series ends with a bunch of sugary sweet scenes from "call me mom" to sunset and let's repeat this most beautiful and heartbreaking moment from the past epsiode without any emotional impact. It was so predictable and so, I'm sorry, so bad. I'm so angry! And of course he gets his sight back. After all, what kind of a message would it be if Day remained blind? Is that possible? That a blind protagonist can find happiness and love and lead a successful life? No, it's not possible. He has to be able to see again. He has to become normal again in order to lead a normal life. What a shitty message! Damn!
Sometimes less really is more. Not everything has to be perfect and normal. At least that's the lesson I thought I should learn from this series.
If anyone has any gif requests, my inbox is open, but I don't think I'll be making any on my own. At least not today and not with this anger in my stomach.
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bookinit02 · 3 months
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HI HELLO GOOD EVENING
I'm dead tired bc I got barely any sleep last night + braindead because I've spent the past several hours binging through your Stranger Things Byler retelling and I'm a bit out of words, HOWEVER. It finally clicked in my head that you have a tumblr and I, also having a tumblr, can use said tumblr to throw my appreciation upon you in a more direct manner.
On that note... the retelling is AMAZING and I love it so very very much!!! (I've also been leaving a whole stream of comments on the fic itself, so a lot of my feelings have already been described in detail there XD). It makes me feel so very many emotions, both good AND bad, and for a fic to trigger THAT MUCH of an emotional reaction in me is really an achievement. It's so beautifully sad and tender and joyous and realistic, and all the more painful for it—and all the more beautiful IN that pain. I haven't actually been a big active part of the Stranger Things Fandom (TM) for several years, but I still often return to Byler fics, sort of like a comfort blanket in story form—and yours are some of the BEST (I think it was also you that wrote one of my favorite ever painting scene fix-its; I'll have to go back and re-read that as well!!)
I started reading season 4 last night (which is in part to blame for my lack of sleep) and finished up the rest of it today. I'm so extremely excited for season 5 and to see what you've done with it—I already started reading the script for episode one and it looks amazing (god, I bet that Mike having a panic attack/Vecna episode hurts WAY more in prose)!!! I can't decide between reading all the script first, then reading the fic; or reading the script episodes and then reading the according fic chapters; or just barreling on ahead in the fic and coming back to the script if it strikes my fancy later (which is, if I'm being honest, the most likely outcome). All will have to wait til tomorrow, however, as I have dinner and a warm bed to get to. All the love to you and your fic!!
(Love how I said "I'm so braindead I've run out of words" and then proceeded to give evidence to the EXACT OPPOSITE claim. I'm really a bit like Mike lmao, even if I'm struggling to actually describe my specific emotions or feelings about something, I can run my mouth about any old thing for ages XD)
hi hello good morning!!! i have been watching ur comments come in with so much joy and happiness—hopefully i get time to respond to all of them within the next few days! i hope that you have gotten so much rest and that you are all refreshed for the next day🫂💗
thank you so much for all your kind words, in this ask and otherwise! the rewrite is really a labor of love that has been sustaining me for over a year now, and it is always so impressive and awe-worthy to me when new people discover it and start from the very beginning. that is SO much to read!! several novels worth!
as for the script, read it in whatever order you would like! my recommended order was originally to read the script first, then the fic chapters—but i know that some people want to experience the plot twists and developments as they happen, so really any way you decide to read it is completely fine! the byler scenes are all the same (with a bit extra in the fic), it’s really just the other characters and plot lines that are expanded.
thank you for “running your mouth,” as you’ve called it—but i prefer to think that we’re just chatting🥳 i really love interacting with people through both comments and asks, so feel free to do both (and to talk as long as you’d like)! i am super grateful and honored that you’ve chosen to read my story, and i hope that you enjoy what i have so far of season 5!!💗🫂
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yen-doodles · 2 years
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This has to do with the fight scene I mentioned a little bit ago. Part three of a fic I wrote, last part was "Lost Moon"
Cw// fighting, graphic death and funeral scene, as well as self destructive coping mechanism
Be careful
An Eclipsed Moon, Leaving the Sun Alone
The sky was grey. It always seemed grey, or at the very least, felt grey; empty.
The pilgrims truck into another cluster of mountains, they were nearing the end of the journey. Feeling so close to the monastery that they could touch it.
The group were becoming increasingly excited, babbling to themselves, for the thought of not needing to travel another step being within reach. Well except for Sun Wukong, he wasn't excited and his traveling wouldn't be ending any time soon.
He was melancholy. For once the journey was over, he intended to find his Moon once more. To reunite again.
Thinking he was still out there, alive and well, gave him hope but he wasn't always so optimistic. Sometimes, at night, he wonders if it could be true—that his Moon was indeed alright.
The simian felt his feet drag along the dry dirt under him, weak and tired. He would usually summon his somersault cloud to give him time to rest but it gave the king unwanted time to think, to dream. 
He rubbed at his drooping eyes, puffy from crying and lack of sleep. It made him wonder sometimes, if Wukong were to find his Lui ēr again, if he'd recognize him when they saw eachother.
The sage had surely lost the features his Moon knew him for. He's sure he charming looks he had under the tired eyes and body. Was he still the Peaches the demon monkey cared so deeply for?
The stone monkey felt ears twitch at the sound of rustling leaves as they came to an area where the ground flattened, someone was following them. 
He stiffened, signalling the others to stop which they listened to. After activating his gold vision, he looked around the area the surroundings. Nothing, or at least a more stifler target. 
He listened closely again, there were no rustling or signs of moving.
"Looks like a false alarm, probably was just a critter-" Wukong felt a brush of wind hit him as a black blur swished passed him. 'Nevermind, it wasn't a false alarm' he managed to think before sprinting to block the assault.
He raised his staff, successfully colliding with the assailant's weapon before it hit Tripitaka. 
The monkey glared towards the person before being hit with a mix of emotions. "L- Liu 'er?" He stumbled out. Relief, excitement, guilt, confusion. It all swirled around inside him, he was overwhelmed in the best possible way.
"Plum!" He cheered as the two monkeys pulled their staffs away, "I can't believe it- it's you- it's actually you!"
Wukong allowed his arms to drop to his side's casually, not knowing what to do with them anyway. Relieved, he was so relieved. "I was convinced that I was going to spend centuries alone while I look in all directions for you," his watery red eyes gazed at his Moon's longingly as the sage opened his arms up for an expected hug "but look at you! You're here, I have my Moon back- we're together!"
Excitement overtook his voice, feeling his chest become warm inside once more. Something he was convinced he'd never feel again. 'I missed you' he'd thought.
When the other monkey didn't come in for the hug, his mood faltered as he lowered his arms. "Liu 'er? Plum?" Macaque wasn't looked at his eyes, grey eyes only flickering between the fillet on the king's head and the monk. His eyes like steel, his pupil mere slits, serious.
"I'm here for the monk Wukong" the shadow weaver's voice was stern, though it seemed forced. As though it hurt to talk sternly to the stone monkey. Sun Wukong's felt his heart sink, Wukong not Peaches.
"He's the one to tear us apart, he put that stupid ring on your head and made you go on this pilgrimage," Macaque gripped his shadow staff tighter "once he is gone, no one can rip us apart ever again!"
His Moon would never think of hurt someone unless he felt himself, or people he cared for, were in danger. Monkey King had to think of something quick.
"Hurting the monk will do no good, this is something for us to settle," he tried to reason "Lui 'er- we can talk this out I promise." The other monkey's expression didn't seem to change, his eyes still cold as steel.
"No can do Wukong.." his Moon ready his stance.
"Liu 'er.. please." He pleaded. Let's not fight, stay, stay with me... I just got you back. His world was slipping.
"I'll only say this once, move Sun Wukong!" 
He moved his staff to be in front him again, feeling off balance. "I can't do that Plum," "then I'll go around you!" 
The ash coloured monkey snarled angrily, dashing towards the sage. He held his ground, only for the other to leap into the air. Quickly Wukong used his staff as a leverage, kicking up and pushing Macaque back a couple feet.
The demon monkey stabled himself, summoning some shadow clones before sending them to attack the stone monkey. Monkey blocked the clones' attack with his staff, stumbling backwards only slightly, before dispersing them. He caught a glimpse of something in corner of his eyes and sprinted off into the direction of whatever it was.
Macaque had tried to go for Tripitaka again while Wukong was busy with the clones. Pigsy and Sandy had put themselves in front of their master but by the looks of his Moon's face, they would quickly be ripped through.
The monkeys hands lock together, they had let their staffs drop, pushing against the other's force. "That monk is what's keeping us apart! Don't you see?!" The shadow weaver yelled, looking into the auburn monkey's eyes for the first time since he'd shown up.
"This has nothing to do with the monk, I'm the one that yelled at you!"
"Yes because of that monk!" Macaque growled, kicking Wukong in the stomach. He winced for a second but recovered quickly. No one but a few exceptions could leave a mark on him.
The stone monkey unlocked their hands and punched his friend back, holding his strength back to not hurt his Moon as the other stumbled back. He tried to make every push, every kick, punch softer.
Because a lot of things can hurt Liu 'er..
The demon monkey winces, clutching his middle. He didn't bounce back right away and a pit crawled into Monkey King's throat. 'Had I punch too hard?' he asked himself, 'broken a rib? Part of his spine maybe?'
Red eyes met grey ones once the darker monkey recovered. Please Wukong's pleaded, let's not fight anymore. 
Macaque eyes soften, no longer the hard steel but gentle moonlight he remembers. It seems as though the shadow weaver was stopping himself, holding himself from hugging Wukong with the longing they both felt. His moonlight eyes saying: I wish that could be possible.
His Moon glanced at Tripitaka, eyes becoming hard again, before looking back at Wukong. A final argument about ending the monk where he stood. The stone monkey frowned, shaking his head, 'don't do it.'
Shadow weaver lowered his head, a silent apology, summoning another staff before dashing towards Tripitaka for a final attempt. "No!" The sage shouted, all cohesive thought leaving his head as followed after with staff in hand. Pigsy managed to push Macaque enough that he toppled slightly. Wukong leaps into the air, holding the staff up as he slammed it against the demon's head.
He had intended to knock Macaque out so they could tie him up, when he would wake up he could talk things out with him. Find out why his Moon thought killing the monk would solve the issue between them.
But as he lands, he looks upon his companion's body laying on the ground as blood dripped from his face. He doesn't get up, doesn't even grumble in pain or breath a shakily breathe.
Sun Wukong rushes over to him, picking him up and laying him across his lap. He had a large gash down his right eye from his brow to his cheek.
"Liu 'er?" He called as he shook the unconscious monkey's shoulder lightly, chirping. The king felt his eyes tear up. He placed an ear against his Moon's chest as Monkey King listened for a slow heartbeat. Nothing came, no breath, no heartbeat. He choked on a sob as he pulled Macaque closer to his chest.
"LIU 'ER!!"
Wukong felt like he was back on Flower Fruit Mountain, but this pain felt so much worse. At least then he knew his Moon was alive.
He had been reunited with Liu 'er and he killed him, he ended his Moon.
--
After getting the sage to let go of Macaque, the pilgrims began to assemble what they could to preform the proper burial. 
Sun Wukong had flown back to retrieve a change of clothes for the other monkey to be changed into after being washed. Pigsy and Tripitaka obtain the jade that would be placed on the shadow weaver's eyes and mouth. Sandy built the coffin that would be used.
His master along with the Great Sage washed and dressed Macaque in the clothes he had gotten, they had been a gift from Wukong that the other seemed to cherish.
As he had been cleaning the wound, what had ended his Moon's life, he felt himself pause. Running a finger gently across the cutter cheek, outlining the shape of it. Moving to push some longer fur out of his companion's face. His eyes felt so raw, looking down at his Liu 'er, having been crying since he'd held the smaller monkey in his arms. He had been sure he was crying then too, but was so used to the feeling he hadn't felt the water come out his eyes.
He'd forced himself to continue on with the cleaning process. 
Sun Wukong had picked a nearby tree to bury Macaque. It seemed like a fitting spot to have it. A place Moon would've liked sleeping under once everything got quiet.
Tripitaka placed the jade on the darker monkey's eyes and mouth, saying a prayer as Wukong and Sandy lowered the coffin into the hole in the ground.
The sage remained there through the rest of the day, and the days that followed.
He'd lay there at night even though he hardly slept and wouldn't join in for meals. The others left him mostly allowed beside coming to bring something in hopes he'd eat or to say prayers.
Tripitaka joined him one of the days, taking a seat next to him but no words were shared between them.
"Master..?" Wukong had called out quietly after awhile of silence, peeking a glance at the monk. "Yes, Sun Wukong? What do you need?" The auburn monkey clutched his fists atop his knees.
He gulped. "Master, I would like you to..." The king hesitated "perform the mantra that goes with the gold fillet I wear."
The reincarnation of Golden Cicada sat shocked. The mantra was meant as a way to keep the sage in line whenever he disobeyed. A punishment.
"Sun Wukong, I don't believe that is a good idea-"
"You said that Buddhists do not kill, well, you made me a Buddhist when you took me as your disciple" Monkey King turned fully towards the other. "What's so difference from the one times you used that mantra?!" Tears streamed down his face as he shouted, "I killed someone, any other time you would have already recited it, I'm asking you aren't I? So do it monk!"
Tripitaka sat stunned, Wukong faltered. "I- I'm sorry master.." the stone monkey's voice was soft as he reverted his eyes away to look towards the tree, "I should not have of raised my voice."
"The Sun Wukong that warranted putting the fillet didn't feel regret or remorse for killing," the monk gazed up at the tree "the Sun Wukong sitting next to me does."
Tripitaka sighed, "you asked for the difference from the other times the mantra was used." Monkey King nodded. He placed a hand on the monkey's shoulder, looking at him sympathetically, "the difference is that you are in pain because you lost someone so dear to you."
"It doesn't see right to use the mantra while you are grieving.."
Wukong placed his hand atop of the monk's, being extra careful to not grip too hard. "Liu 'er Mihou.. never hurt me once in the whole time that I'd known him, and how do I repay that kindness to him? I kill him!" He remarked between sobs.
Tripitaka let him cry, never moving his hand away from the sage's shoulder.
"Master I need to be punished for what I have done to Liu 'er, please, I'm begging you as both your disciple and your friend.. please!" He looked at his master as though the world was crumpling beneath him, because in some ways.. it was. He had lost his Moon and his goal for going home to Flower Fruit Mountain in one swoop, by his own hands. Wukong was looking for some way to compensate for the pain he put his Moon through, to punish himself for still being alive when Liu 'er wasn't.
"Alright," Tripitaka said with a sigh "but I would first like to know why you picked this tree for your..."
"Mate, lover."
"For your mate's burial place" he finished.
"Moon-", "Moon?" The monk interrupted, confused by the sudden name change.
"Oh! A nickname I used to call Liu 'er, we used to compare ourselves to the sun and moon," the stone monkey explained "he was the moon and I was the sun; like part of my name but he mainly called me Peaches- since I really like peaches." Wukong smiled sadly at the memory.
"I see, so the tree?"
"Right- yeah- sorry Master" he chuckled half-heartedly as he scratched under his chin. "Moon liked sleeping in trees, well most monkeys do but him especially because of his ears; since six" he made a gesture towards the side of his head.
"He'd sleep separated from the rest of the monkeys in this big tree! It had lots of flowers like this one," the tree was a light brown with smooth bark and was surrounded by an assortment of flowers "I thought it might be a fitting spot for him to.. rest."
"I'm sure he appreciates it Wukong," "if he isn't already hating my guts right now..." He said bitterly.
"Before you do it, can I have one more moment?"
"Of course."
Wukong stands up and goes over to tree, placing his forehead against the trunk in a gesture the two monkeys used to do with each other.
"I hope you can see how sorry I am Liu 'er, for everything.." he stated sadly.
He turned back to Tripitaka and sat down in front of him. "Thank you for doing this Master, I'm ready" with that the monk stood up and brought his hands together.
As his master recited the mantra, a pain coursed through his head causing him to flinch. His face scrunched up but he refuse himself from being able to yell out, to allow his body the satisfaction to keel over in pain from the splitting headache.
His Moon went through more than this. Sun Wukong deserved what was happening to him, he needed to be punished.
The Moon has disappeared, leaving his Sun alone and lost without him.
The Sun has elcipsed the Moon permanently. Something he desperately wished could be undone.
The Sun cries and cries but his Moon can not come back to him. He is to live without him and go back to the mountain alone.
To always be alone, without the moon, only the night sky to comfort him.
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greensagephase · 6 months
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Alondra… how do I even begin, nonviolent communication part 8… Let me just say that this part has broken my heart multiple times in the best way possible, I don’t think I’ve ever teared up this much when reading. The fight between Miguel and green goblin had my heart racing how do you write action scenes so well? The amount of dread I felt when Miguel thought that was the end for him, just wanting to get to the highest building for the best view, and all his past memories rushing back into his mind, so many wonderful and heartbreaking memories about his family and even reader… the way you wrote everything was so beautiful. When reader started sensing something was wrong with their spider senses, I could feel the terrible dread and panic (and the callback to Peter… my heart) I swear my heart was racing again when reader found Miguel’s lab empty, with lyla or him nowhere to be found. How reader handled searching for him and tried to be somewhat collected, how could someone handle a situation like this… the urgency of quickly running across the rooftops and climbing to the tower where they eventually found him, I felt so relieved but still panicked, the sight of seeing Miguel in the rain weak and beaten, the amount of strength to stay calm. And when reader started crying looking at Miguel in the hospital… all the emotions and events happened so quickly, all the same feelings reader had when Peter passed coming back when seeing Miguel in such a vulnerable state.
And when Miguel whispers Gabriella’s name and saw his loved ones again!? That was… how do I even express the amount of heartbreak and melancholy I felt? The way you wrote every family members interactions with so much care, and it was incredible to read about Miguel finally getting some sense of closure. To lift that heavy burden which weighed on his shoulders, he needed to hear all that, and I’m so glad you incorporated it into the story. With him seeing his brother, his late wife, his daughter (which was very bittersweet and I’m so happy that he got to hold her one last time… oh and the callback to what he offered her on Dia de los Muertos!!) and to even meet the variant he replaced and be met with only kindness and forgiveness, how can I describe it other than just beautiful and perfect. I’m relieved that he’s okay in the end, but was it was an emotional rollercoaster, in absolutely the best way possible.
You really did it again Alondra, your writing is absolutely beautiful (and I’m so glad you didn’t leave us on a cliffhanger) I can’t wait to read more, knowing that reader’s spider senses went off for Miguel, they must have a very special connection. And with Miguel, being given another opportunity to truly live life, he really deserves it. I really want to add more about some more details I loved but I think I’ve written too much already. You’re an amazing writer, thank you for all the effort you put into your work. ✨✨✨
I quickly want to apologize for the delayed reply! It was my goddaughters' birthday yesterday and I was away helping since Saturday night, so I didn't get to check Tumblr at all after updating. Now, @sunsetdoodler you brought tears to my eyes, again! 😭 Thank you for mentioning the fight scene because I'm actually not good at writing action scenes lol that part took me the entire week to put together on top of figuring out how Miguel's suit works regarding injuries like the ones he received. I had to do some research! The part when Miguel thought that was the end for him... It probably sounds silly but it hurt so bad to even write and I was really stuck on the part about him and Gabriel pretending to be superheroes as kids and Gabriel having nightmares. It really broke my heart, the same way that reader trying to stay collected while searching for Miguel and eventually breaking down at the hospital did! I swear, I just want both reader and Miguel to be happy!!
And that last part of Miguel meeting his family!! I'm so happy you enjoyed it and found it fitting as Miguel's closure! While writing it broke me emotionally, that specific part was in the plans since the beginning of the story because I need this man to get that closure. ATSV Miguel carries a lot of guilt on top of grief and so I wanted to give him this closure in my story, at least. I wanted him to hear those words from Gabi and his variant, who I was also so happy to include because despite only seeing him in one scene, I love him, too. It saddens me that both Miguels have/had a rough life. They both deserve better 😭 And I loved adding the callback to Dia de los Muertos! That part has been one of my favorite parts to write so far, if not my most favorite! I just thought it was very cozy and deserved a little shoutout from sweet Gabi!
I'm also glad I didn't leave you guys on a cliffhanger because next part can be more fluff now. I need fluff after writing this last part lol! And the connection between Miguel and reader will be talked about in the next part somehow. I'm still putting my draft together right now but it'll be there! And agree, Miguel deserves a shot at happiness and maybe after this... He'll start working towards his healing journey at last🥹
Thank you so much, @sunsetdoodler for the beautiful words as always!! Your asks always make my day, I'm not even joking!! I was looking forward to getting on Tumblr today after yesterday's shenanigans and running errands today to see if you had sent one, and I'm happy to see you enjoyed this latest part despite the angst. I hope you enjoy the next part! Thank you, thank you, thank you!! Have a wonderful day/night!! ❤️✨
-Alondra
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
Got tagged by @elevenelvenswords (kudos, thanks for the tag my dude) so here we go 7:P
How many works do you have on AO3?
21, two of which were co-authored by others.
What fandoms do you write for?
These days I write for the Silmarillion, as it’s my biggest hyperfixation currently. I used to write MCYT fics (my last biggest hyperfixation, lasting about 3yrs), but I’ve long since run dry of mcyt fic ideas.
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Funny enough, because of everyone else’s hyperfixations my non-silm fics are still top 5, even tho they’re so much shorter than my more recent works lol
(1) Many vegetables, one soup
(2) Close your eyes, let them reawaken Red
(3) MCYT Whumptober 2022 (and then some)
(4) Cradle Brothers
(5) Meteor
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I do! I love to give bonus facts about the fic in my comment section.
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Either “I keep my enemies closer than the mirror ever gets to me” because of the canon angst foreshadowing or “I take scraps from dinner as little parts of love” because the ending is bittersweet in hindsight of canon (and because it made someone in my comment section cry lol)
What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Staccato, Familiar Acceptance and (somewhat) reconciliation are prime in the 2nd chapter.
Do you get hate on fics?
Nope! I don’t write very controversial topics, very long fics, or in very large fandoms, so at the moment I’m just a small fish in the pond. No hate nor attention comes for the small fish.
Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I’ve written a scene where inexplicit sex was implied to be happening, but I don’t know if i’ll ever write anything with explicit sexual content (Disclaimer: I’m an adult).
Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
The only crossover i’ve ever posted is an abandoned wip in “Discontinued Hermitcraft WIPS - chapter 7” It was a hermitcraft and Phasmophobia crossover.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
To my knowledge, no.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Nope! Though I’d be open to it if anyone wanted to (given they asked permission first).
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes! A discontinued original work titled “Shattered Stars” and a fnaf fic co-authored with a friend titled “Many vegetables, one soup”
What’s your all time favourite ship?
These days it’s either Silvergifting (silm) or Scarian (hc)
What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
An unnamed fic where Post-Canon, everyone is reembodied in Valinor and Russingon + Kidnap Fam are all together Happy Family Style.
Except, so very ago Fingon & Maedhros adopted a tiny Gil-Galad together, Maedhros left at an early age and never treated Gil like his kid afterwards so Gil is real bitter towards Maedhros. Elrond wants them to reconcile but it’s not going well.
“In case you’ve forgotten, Elrond. I’ve met Maedhros Feanorian and he found nothing of value in me.”
Elrond cringes. Maedhros flinches back as if slapped.
What are your writing strengths?
Not sure. Probably writing angst that hurts readers in the trauma epicenter, since i’ve made a few people cry with my fics.
What are your writing weaknesses?
Pretty sure everything needs to improve, but i’d say descriptions and character placement. Maybe pacing too.
Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I’ve done it a few times for Sindarin & Quenya (reluctantly) but I wouldn’t touch that hot potato for irl languages. Pretty neat when other writers do it tho.
First fandom you wrote for?
Five Nights at Freddy’s, somehow. I wrote a single fic for that fandom but it was my first.
Favourite fic you’ve written?
“I take scraps from dinner as little parts of love” I put so much symbolism, emotion, and thought into this fic. It’s my favorite brainchild for sure. I’m working on giving this brainchild a sequel sibling, too.
Tagging: @crystalcatgamer @foolofatook001 @melestasflight
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itookyoudown · 6 months
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Tim licks his lips and nods his head. Or maybe he’s starting to shake. Boyd doesn’t ponder on it, he just guides the cherry and presses it against Tim’s skin, finds a spot that’s pale and unmarred and ready for Boyd to leave his mark. He squeezes Tim’s hand harder and acts as an anchor while Tim weathers the pain with admirable resilience. Boyd himself is no stranger to pain. He understands its siren call. He watches with a mix of delight and jealousy as Tim falls headfirst into that song, his lips parting with a low grunt and the corners of his eyes stinging with tears.
Tim’s too drunk to control his face. Or swallow his noises.
Boyd twists the cigarette until he hears Tim make a sound that’s more animal than man.
“Oh, baby,” he coos as he sends the crushed cigarette off into the night. Boyd lets go of Tim’s hand and cups the boy’s face with both hands while Tim cradles his burned arm to his chest, breathing and blinking hard. “I love you, Tim, and I know you love me too. Love us both. Love us enough to hurt for it, ain’t that right?”
All that ice in Tim melts.
He’s warm and easy in Boyd’s arms.
Boyd kisses Tim then. Kisses those wet cheeks and his sweaty brow. More kisses over his closed eyes, his nose, and a final one pressed slowly on his forehead. Boyd rises up on his knees while Tim stays slumped on the ground, still trapped between his truck and Boyd’s body. They’re almost at their destination, but they still got a little further to go.
Oh boy oh boy this fic. THIS FIC. Fire Tests Gold.
I didn't struggle to get this fic written, the words actually flowed quite smoothly, but emotionally it was draining to put this one down and I was a bit anxious to send it out into the world. Honestly, I’m even wary about answering this ask lol but I’m not going to let past anon hate keep from playing with the justies and talking about my fics with folks that like my fics.
Here we go.
I should preface this author commentary by talking a bit about my take on Boy Chowder Boyd Crowder. I am simply…not interested in giving Boyd any type of redemption. Not even a little bit of redemption, as a treat. It doesn’t spark anything special in my brain. Boyd told us who he was every moment of the final season, right up until that very ending scene in prison. When people show you who they are, believe them etc etc. So, whenever I write Boyd, I take his choices in canon to heart and let it guide his characterization even when I’m off wandering into canon divergence or wild AU territory.
And to get personal for a moment, writing Boyd PoV always fucks me up a little.
Boyd is a compelling antagonist and an extremely well-written character, his place in Justified’s story is needed and it elevates the show because Goggins is such a stellar actor. But he's not a character I closely relate to on any level. Even if I’m drawn to try and understand him. 
When it comes to fanfiction, he’s purely a character I see from a "let's study him like a bug" perspective. He's not a character that holds up a mirror to show me something about myself. Instead, Boyd reminds me of all the different charming, dangerous men I've met in my life. Both the ones that have hurt me and the ones that I managed to evade by, you know, recognizing that charm for what it was and leaving before it got worse. Or cutting off contact before it could even start.
I often use fanfic, both in reading and writing, to grapple with difficult life events or help me sort through complicated emotions. And when I wrote Fire Tests Gold, I was in a creatively burned out space and haunted by some memories. So, yeah, this fic deals with heavy stuff while being wrapped up in a “boyd/tim with background ot3 in a toxic sadomasochistic tango” packaging, but when you open it up that’s what is going on inside.
Anyways.
I've written very dark fics before: in a pitch black world anything goes (Boyd POV) and last night i felt real arms around me (Quarles). These were approached as character studies focused on taking a peek inside their warped lil minds. The narration style was up-front about being what it was, about watching where that darkness was coming from without letting readers succumb to it. They’re horror stories in a way. Boyd and Quarles were portrayed in clear villain roles and Tim as an obvious victim. There’s no justification or excuse for what they did there, the reader is meant to be chilled by and grossed out and feel righteous in hating them.
…not this one. Not Fire Tests Gold.
Out of all the dark fics I’ve written, this one TO ME, takes the cake.
Tim licks his lips and nods his head. Or maybe he’s starting to shake. Boyd doesn’t ponder on it, he just guides the cherry and presses it against Tim’s skin, finds a spot that’s pale and unmarred and ready for Boyd to leave his mark.
I purposefully let Boyd's bullshit overpower the narrative and allowed him to influence the perception of things as an unreliable narrator. Likewise, I muddled Tim up so he doesn't seem like a hapless innocent in this.
Is the movement of Tim’s head meant to tell us Tim is consenting to what Boyd is about to do? Well…no. Even Boyd owns up to the reality, but this is quickly brushed aside as unimportant because throughout the whole fic Boyd has been compiling a long list of reasons and excuses and marks against Tim so Boyd doesn’t have to feel a crumb of guilt or regret for hurting Tim.
I made a deliberate choice to have Boyd's dialogue and his actions and his thoughts and his desires and his perspective take over everything else. Tim, what he's actually feeling and wanting out of this and trying to do, is locked up and only slips in a few places. What's going on with Tim is left as an implication in his silences and with his passivity. How Tim speaks and the particular way he phrases things is more important than what he actually says.
In fact, Tim doesn’t get any dialogue in this whole passage because it wouldn’t matter what Tim said. Boyd wouldn’t have let himself hear it anyway.
He squeezes Tim’s hand harder and acts as an anchor while Tim weathers the pain with admirable resilience. Boyd himself is no stranger to pain. He understands its siren call. He watches with a mix of delight and jealousy as Tim falls headfirst into that song, his lips parting with a low grunt and the corners of his eyes stinging with tears. 
Boyd’s viewpoint is smothering Tim’s. It even refocuses Tim’s pain so it’s about Boyd instead. I feel like Boyd’s cruelty in this is very…calculated and part of that calculation is Boyd telling himself lies when they get into the thick of things. He tangles up the narrative so this is something they’re doing together rather than something he’s doing to Tim. And he does that by acting like he’s being sympathetic and relating to Tim and even by complimenting Tim in a way.
Boyd has a natural way of seizing the spotlight and taking control, and he goes hog wild with that in the latter half of the fic.
Boyd twists the cigarette until he hears Tim make a sound that’s more animal than man.
This was really to just highlight that Boyd is fully snubbing the cigarette out on Tim. It’s not a light or quick thing. It’s done mean. That’s a burn that’ll scar and that’ll stay and Boyd does so consciously.
Most of the time when I write OT3, I write it with the idea that the polyamory starts out as a V with Raylan being the point of connection between them. That it doesn’t develop into a true triangle until later.
I made that true for this little fic. This is an entirely self-contained OT3 fic. It’s not connected to me and Kerri’s On the Back Porch series or a spin-off of some object of desire. I wanted to dive into something supremely fucked up and didn’t want to get hung-up on any backstory or try to explain why Raylan, Boyd, and Tim are living in Miami. I just in media res’d it hardcore.
Here Boyd carries around a lot of jealousy and anger and possessive, obsessive emotions that are itching for a way to get out and have been simmering for a long, long time. And because of that I do feel like Boyd does revel in this chance to punish Tim. He hurts Tim because Raylan won’t stop loving Tim. He hurts Tim because Boyd is attracted to Tim and Boyd resents that loss of control over himself. 
But he also hurts Tim because…he can.
Their dynamic here is also suggested by the title btw. Boyd is the fire and Tim is the gold (because Tim is Raylan's gold...and Tim will be Boyd's gold too if Tim behaves correctly aka if he lets Boyd have his way).
"Oh, baby,” he coos as he sends the crushed cigarette off into the night. Boyd lets go of Tim’s hand and cups the boy’s face with both hands while Tim cradles his burned arm to his chest, breathing and blinking hard. “I love you, Tim, and I know you love me too. Love us both. Love us enough to hurt for it, ain’t that right?” All that ice in Tim melts. He’s warm and easy in Boyd’s arms.
I wrote this with the idea that this is a desperate defeat rather than any type of healthy submission from Tim. If someone hurts you bad enough, sometimes you’ll want them to comfort you despite them being the source of the pain – and that’s why we don’t see Tim fight back or try to get away from Boyd. And of course the idea of love being used as a justification for awful things.
This is also where Boyd changes his tune. Goes from cruel to "sweet" because Tim behaves the way Boyd wants.
Boyd kisses Tim then. Kisses those wet cheeks and his sweaty brow. More kisses over his closed eyes, his nose, and a final one pressed slowly on his forehead. Boyd rises up on his knees while Tim stays slumped on the ground, still trapped between his truck and Boyd’s body. 
It was important here that I detailed how Boyd is the one doing all the kissing. And that Tim stays passive afterward.
They’re almost at their destination, but they still got a little further to go.
This was a way to indicate that both in the moment and in the long term, Boyd’s not done with Tim. He’s going to hurt Tim again and good lord he’s probably going to get away with it. This isn't the end of anything between them that's where the story cuts off.
I've rambled on about this quite enough I think, so I'll cut myself over here. Thanks for asking about this one!
(author commentary ask game)
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Quick Thoughts - Phantom of the Opera - London - August 27, 2022 - Matinee
- As I didn’t have access to the cast list for the performance when the show started, I went in blind, not knowing who I was seeing. I want to know why, despite not actively following the London cast, I managed to correctly guess all of the actors for the principle roles
- Main trio was James Gant, Lucy St. Louis, and Matt Blaker
- This write-up is specifically about my thoughts on the performances not my thoughts on the London production and changes made to the show post reopening. That will be its own separate post.
- I would die for Louis St. Louis’s Christine. There is just something so precious, gentle and caring about her (almost Disney Princess like?) She gives a delicate quantity to Christine (which is only amplified by her delicate, almost siren -like quality to her singing voice). I can’t recall at the moment who it was who wrote that Lucy St. Louis’s Christine has a weird girl energy to her (I am running on 3 hours of sleep and some adrenaline right now - it will come to me at a very inopportune moment) and I do agree with that assessment. Of course she would have an element of weirdness in her if she’s believes that the Angel of music is giving her lessons and she follows the phantom into his lair.
- Matt Blaker’s Raoul just had so many good details. He can be confident and charismatic but also has a dorky side to him. I’m obsessed with the way he spun when he sang “then say you’ll share with me…” Enthusiastically earnest, yet so dorky
- When Matt Blaker did the jump into the “lake” he landed with a loud bang. My immediate thought was “did Raoul just die???” He seemed ok in the final lair scene so I guess the landing was safely done, just loud.
- Let us now discuss James “Ganthom” Gant.
- What I like best about his Phantom is that he is very pathetic and desperate (in a good way).
- He reeks of desperation even in the scenes when the Phantom is in control. The way he touches Christine, the way he longs for Christine to touch him in the first lair, but is too desperate for his own good that he pulls away… I felt that.
- Also the way during music of the night he held Lucy’s hand with both of his hands before leading her to the mirror bride during the line “let the dream begin…” I was floored. That was an option on the table this ENIRE time????
- On the Pegasus when he softly cried out ‘Christine, my Christine’… Sad, but also pathetic
- In the final lair this pathetic (affectionate) man is crying Christine’s name into the veil.
- When I chose my seat in the balcony section (yes, my knees still hurt) I made sure my seat would have a clear, unobstructed view of Raoul and Christine on the boat. It paid off because Lucy’s Christine was looking at this pathetic (affectionate) shell of an opera ghost until the very last moment as the boat drifted away.
- I was feeling so emotional at the end of the final lair (maybe on the verge of crying??? I almost never have the urge to cry during the final lair) but then the little girl behind me had to start chattering away about her thoughts on how the Phantom was going to escape the mob and my moment of emotional vulnerability was over.
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outoutdamnspark · 1 year
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Lost and Found
Some purely self-indulgent stuff this time; I randomly wrote out the “Reina gets drunk and confesses” scene for my Emmet x OC... Not Fic??? called Watching the Earth Rise.
Not completely relevant to the scene, but this one’s set in the AU version of their story, briefly described here, (though the text doesn’t seem to show up on my blog unless I’m on mobile? 😕 Idk why.)
Tl;dr - Ingo's been missing a decade, Emmet is 39, Reina is 29 and works at Grear Station. They are both Very Fucking Tired™️; emotional hijinks ensue. (Inspiration heavily by leggerefiore's SilverFox!Emmet au.)
So yeah, uh. Enjoy~
CW: depression, grief, alcohol, allusions to past tragedy.
(Sort of hurt/comfort; mutual pining, love confessions, pre-romance.) 
===
It’s well after midnight by the time her last bottle runs dry, but she’s still sober enough to feel the crushing weight of the silence in her empty, unfurnished closet of an apartment. Stupid, cheap, watery vodka; it had tasted like nail polish remover, the smell strong enough to make her sinuses burn, but she’s now two bottles in and it still it hasn’t been enough to get her so drunk she can forget. It’s not even tomorrow yet, not properly, because even though it’s not technically today anymore, there’s still enough of it left, spilling over despite the clock turning the hours from night into morning, that it doesn’t feel like tomorrow - and that’s the part that really matters. All she’s left with now is the aching quiet and the chemical taste of regret lingering on her tongue.
She needs something - a movie, a song, a voice, anything, because the booze isn’t doing its job, the night isn’t passing like it needs to, the 12th won’t end - but right now there’s nothing. She can’t rewatch The Kids on the Bridge for the hundredth time, she knows, because the music and the story, (usually things that keep her sane, keep her going, keep her alive,) will wreck her. Even the musical's 'darkest before the dawn' message won't be enough to help; the 12th isn’t the day for things she keeps close, it’s not the day for the pieces of herself that manage to stay afloat, taking in water but still hanging on for dear life. It’s the worst sort of irony, to have something she can turn to but only on any day that she doesn’t desperately need it. 
Anastasia is out, too, for the exact same reason, though amplified because of its deeper tether to her past - too much of a reminder of the too-few happy childhood memories when people now gone were still here. 
She doesn’t trust herself in her drunk-but-still-too-sober state to go digging through her music, either; the heavier stuff will just fuck with her head right now, too much all at once, and the rest, well. She made the mistake once of trying to put her playlists on shuffle so she didn’t have to choose a song. The resulting mental rabbit hole had almost been worse than the hollowness she’d been trying to drown out in the first place. 
She doesn’t want to wake her pokemon up, despite how much she desperately wants Cloak to wrap her up in her wings. Reina could use the cuddles - alarmingly so - but her team worry enough over her as it is, and they’re all probably asleep by now. She can’t burden them with this. Not again. Not for the tenth year in a row. They deserve to move forward in the way she can’t - or to properly mourn without having to babysit her, too.
Near to tears at the feeling of utter desolation slowly creeping in from the back of her skull, Reina reaches for her phone. She could call someone, maybe? Surely she knows someone still awake at this hour? 
Reina pauses, her tipsy mind defogging for a second, reminding her that she does not, in fact, know anyone. Other than her one friend back in Galar, (who is most assuredly either dead asleep or just barely waking up for work right now) her contacts list consists of the PokeCenter, two numbers that are no longer in service and never will be again, and name that never had a number to begin with, and her boss. Her workaholic, insomniac boss. 
Whom she has the stupidest fucking crush on. 
(Let it be said that poor states of mind, coupled with desperation, mixed with alcohol and budding affection, will dampen even the shrudest of impulse control. It is a formula to be feared.)
Reina’s holding her phone against her ear before she even fully processes she’s hit ‘call’. It vibrates the side of her head, the dull ringing on the line making her feel dizzy as the tipsiness rolls back in. She can’t tell if she likes it or not. 
The phone rings twice, three times, then picks up with a muted ‘click.’ 
“Miss Kageyama?”
Reina sucks in a deep, sharp breath at the sound of his voice. It’s like ice being pressed over a patch of scalded flesh, a soothing balm in auditory form, and for a moment she feels the horrible jitters subside just a little. 
But then she realizes what he’s said and her mouth pulls into a frown. 
“...Helllllllo?”
“Yoooooooooou,” she slurs accusingly, “are still at work.” She huffs. “Why are you still at work?”
There is a moment of silence, wherein her boss is likely blinking at his phone screen in confusion. He chuckles, just once. It’s a tense, unsure sound that doesn’t seem to hold much humor, just exhaustion. It still sends a tingle through Reina’s core to hear it so close to her ear, and she unconsciously presses her thighs together for the span of a heartbeat. 
“You don’t know that,” he says, and it might be either a deflection or an attempt at teasing, but Reina is too far into the bottle to be able to tell right now. 
Instead of picking one, she settles for responding with a, (perfectly mature) “Yuh-huh. Do, too.” 
She hears him take a breath on the other end of the line, readying a reply, so she cuts him off before he can make it. “You said ‘Kageyama.’ Kageyama is what you call me at work. Off the clock is Reina.” Another huff, this one morphing into a faint whine at the tail end. There is a small, quiet pout to her voice as she adds, much softer, “...I like it when you call me Reina…” 
More silence follows; then, finally, there comes the muted crackle of a shallow exhale. “...Reina…”
But she cuts him off a second time with a hum that, again, is more of a whine. “No.”
“No?”
“No.” Reina sits back against the bare wall she’s been cuddled up to this whole time, defiant despite him not being able to see her. “You can’t call me that yet because you’re still at work.” She pouts, harder this time, petulant like a child and just as stubborn. “Go home. You need to sleep.” Her tone shifts, some old protective instinct half-remembered drifting up and out from its dank little corner and coloring her words like a scold. “And… and probably eat something, too. And water. You need to…” She pauses to get a better grip on her words as they get heavier on her tongue, thick with alcohol. She ‘hnn’s through her teeth in frustration. “Mm. Don’t… You’re gonna say you already did, and you’re a bad liar, so I’m gonna know.” A third huff - something that has evidently become a good part of her vocabulary tonight. “You need to clock out and… I care about you, you fucking… you dumbass. Okay? Take better care of yourself.”
As much as she would (and inevitable will) be appalled at herself without the haze of shitty vodka, any and all thoughts of her own plight - of the 12th - have been successfully, albeit temporarily, pushed from her mind as her bottled-up affection and concern for one of the only living contacts in her phone begins to pour out in ernest. She frowns, almost scowls, and feels hot tears prickle behind her eyes. She grimaces; they do not fall. 
“...Reina,” Emmet says softly. It’s patient, ever-so-slightly frosty, like his guard is up, professional mask crooked but in place - but it’s still kind, still that same quiet sort of comforting that’s been wrapping Reina’s heart tighter and tighter around his little finger for months. “Are you drunk?”
She barks a bitter laugh. “Not drunk enough.”
“Oooooookaaaay…” He sounds… worried? Reina isn’t entirely certain since she can’t see him, but from the way he draws out the word, she can picture the little furrow of his brows that Emmet does when he’s out of his depth. 
He pauses. Reina waits.
“I am Emmet. You sound… Not. Alright.”
She can’t think of a lie, and it doesn’t register as important to do so, so she simply tells him, “I’m not.”
She hears him exhale. Not a sigh, just an exhale. (There’s a difference, she’s noticed.)
“Can I help?” he asks her, voice quiet. 
Reina wants to sob. He’s so kind! Even now, at quarter-to-one in the morning, when she’s most likely breached half a dozen boundaries - both professional and personal - by calling him while drunk, and calling him names. She can’t even fathom it, can’t comprehend it; there is no way this man is real, and certainly no way she deserves to be anywhere near him. (Her chest aches as she reminds herself that her love for him has been doomed from the very start, that she’ll never be worthy, will never have anything to offer him besides the tattered remnants of a person long broken past repair.) A tear finally falls, and Reina is suddenly choking. She shakes her head, both forgetting and grateful for the fact that he can’t see her through the phone. 
“N-no,” she hiccups. Her whole body shudders. “No you can’t. It’s… today is bad.”
“Bad?” he repeats. 
She nods again, sucking in a watery breath. “Uh-huh. The day is bad. The… the 12th. It’s bad.” Another hiccup catches in her throat as she reaches up to scrub her sleeve against her eyes. 
Emmet stays quiet as she sucks in another breath that doesn’t fill her lungs. Suddenly she remembers what today is, why she’d called in the first place, why she’d needed to hear his voice. She coughs on an exhale; it becomes a low, pained whine. 
He calls her name softly, gently, Emmet the Subway Boss now replaced entirely by Emmet her friend, Emmet the man she’s fallen head over heels for so hard that she’s surprised she didn’t break something. 
She coughs again, giving him an, “Uh?” to show she’s heard him. 
“Why is the 12th bad?”
Reina makes a sound low in the back of her throat. She doesn’t know what it is, exactly, but it rattles at her chest, leaving her feeling scratchy and raw. Her back bows and her neck bends until she’s folded so far forward that her forehead nearly touches the boring carpet. “I… I can’t,” she chokes, “I can’t. It’s just. It’s bad. Today is bad.” She emphasizes the word again and again, as if that alone will tell him what he wants to hear, what she can’t bring herself to say lest it break her down more than a single night’s sleep will be able to fix. Or at least, tape her back together. 
But she keeps going. 
Reina takes another wobbly, tearful breath. “But you’re not. You’re not, and that’s why I needed…” She sniffs. “You’re so nice it hurts.”
Emmet gives an airy, vaguely nervous giggle, unsure. “Uh. Thank you?”
Reina shakes her head until she’s dizzy. “Nooooo, you don’t - don’t get it. I have to tell you I love you. I have to. That’s what… I have to tell you today because… because…” She can’t get it out. No matter how she tries, she can’t tell him why it has to be today. She can’t tell him that today is the day she needs to cling to the memory of the people she loves and can no longer tell. She can’t give him the words to say that she needs to cling to him now, as well, because he’s the one person she can tell, and it feels like she’ll die if she doesn’t tell him before it’s too late to say it to him, too. 
And yet. 
“...Because today is bad?” he asks. And it’s so, so gentle, like he knows anyway - or if nothing else, he can guess. He knows there’s something important, something painful, even if he doesn’t know what it is. 
“Yeah,” she whispers. And it’s enough. 
Neither one of them says anything for a while after that. Emmet simply stays on the line as she cries openly into her hand. She can hear him breathing faintly, and it’s comforting to know he’s still there despite it all. Eventually, eventually, her sobbing slows, and Reina hears his voice once more softly calling her name. 
“Reina? Still with me?”
She takes a deep breath and lets it back out. It only quavers a little bit this time. 
“...Yeah.”
Emmet hums. “Good.” There’s a pause, like he’s thinking. “You should go to bed,” he says, and though it’s kind, there’s a slight edge to it, the barest hint of an authoritative tone. “Drink water first; you’re going to be verrrry dehydrated after this. Can you do that for me?”
She’s too wrung out to argue anymore. Besides, it’s… nice. To hear him say that; it stirs the same echoes that her own scolding had before - all that remains of a time long past. “Yes, Sir,” she breathes, already feeling the exhaustion settling in. 
“Good,” he says again. Then, gentler, “Do you need tomorrow off?”
Reina feels her stomach sink. “N-no. Please no, I don’t want–”
“Okay,” he shushes (kind, so goddamn kind.) “No tomorrow off. No leaving you alone. It’s okay.” 
She settles back against the wall, relief flooding her veins to drive out the panic. “Thank you.”
He just hums. 
A moment passes before he speaks again. “Reina?”
“...Yeah?”
“Go to bed now.”
She swallows the sticky, scratchy lump in her throat and wipes at the tear tracks on her face. She can do that, she thinks. She can do that now. “...Okay.” 
“Okay?”
“Okay,” she agrees. “But… Only if you do, too.” 
That earns her a quiet chuckle, this one much more like an actual laugh. It’s tired, breathy, but real. 
“I am Emmet. It’s a deal.”
Reina giggles faintly in return. “Cute,” she whispers. 
“I… mmm.” 
Reina giggles again at his obvious attempt to stifle the familiar verbal tic - it’s a sign he’s flustered, and it makes her body feel warm to hear it. “Hee. Cute.”
There is an exasperated (flustered) sigh. “Good NIGHT, Miss Kageyama," he huffs, but it’s a bit less stern than it’s likely meant to be. 
“Reina,” she corrects.
“I am Emmet. Go. To. Bed.”
She snorts. “Going.” 
Her smile fades then, slowly melting into something… not quite peaceful, but calmer than she’s felt in a long time. It’s better, even if it’s not completely better. It gives her the strength to whisper one last thing before she heeds her boss’s orders and passes out on the carpet, wrapped up in her travel blanket. 
“...I love you.”
(And if, right before she hangs up, there’s a too-quiet whisper in return, she just chalks it up to her imagination, not so far gone in the last dregs of her intoxication to believe she’s heard him say it back.)
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aspiring-artist-em · 9 months
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You posted a beautiful and very difficult fic last night. How are you feeling?
I wanted to let you know that I love the stories you have written. I think the way you are writing the trauma is respectful and cathartic to read. However, it seems like you might be having an increasingly hard time processing as you write. Is this still helpful for you? I guess im just checking in to make sure you aren’t pushing yourself in a harmful way, rather than a cathartic way.
I hope you are having a happy day!
Aww thank you for checking up on me, im doing good rn. I'm really glad you like my work, I think that my trouble comes from putting it out there and sharing vulnerability with the world, yk? It's like, this isn't my life or my trauma but I'm basing it off of xyz and i don't want people to shit on it or say it's invalid because it's based off of xyz. It's very cathartic to write the series, i swear, and also to think about stuff I went though but also put it on another character and their reaction being bad meaning that I'm not just fucking crazy, yk? Also, most of the time, my emotional drainage is like the kind you get after a therapy session, and so it's neither good nor bad.
For my most recent fic, I think that the whole thing with the editing just sucks, I hate editing my work in general because I'm very critical of it. And so when I'm editing something that brings up uncomfy shit for myself (even though I wrote it), just because it feels so personal, it's harder. so ive decided not to edit the heavier content. The way I see it is, if I need a drink to edit it, it's not getting edited. I'm trying to not trauma dump on my readers and also trying to heal from stuff, and I'm relatively new to this so it's hard balancing it and I'm still learning. Heavier content might be written again, scenes like that might be edited again (although maybe not that specific kind of scene, only time will tell) but they're not going to be edited. That's where the main problem came from, I think.
Anyhoo, now that I bore my heart and soul to the internet, I just wanted to say thank you for checking up on me bc it really means a lot to be reminded that I'm seen as a human and not just a content machine. I really appreciate you reading my works too, and please go treat yourself to a $5 coffee or something for you're kindness. Have a great day and don't hurt your heart too much💜
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thewrathofjinx · 2 years
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Ok so I thought this up at around 4:30 AM the other night, and I wrote it down and decided to post it here. Anyway, it hasn't been proofread, so there are probably a lot of mistakes. Thanks so much to @dabisqueen
Please critique me, I need it. Buuut critiquing and hating are very different, please don't cross that line.
Warnings - 16+, a lot of blood and death, suffering (both emotional and physical), graphic descriptions of death ig?? I think that's it, if there are any I missed, please tell me.
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Lynh's Mind -
At first, the expanse was breathtaking. It was pleasantly bright, not so bright that it hurt one's eyes, but not dim enough to impede one's vision. The sky, or ceiling, or whatever stretched out above me, was a light, calm, soothing shade of gray. Pillars of what looked like clouds trailed down from the sky to the soft, silvery-blue, strangely spongy ground. Little rivulets of cloud essence seeped off of the pillars and away across the ground, snaking their way serenely into the distance. It smelled wonderful. The scents of blooming flowers, rain, wet earth, wood fires, and strawberries all interlocked into the lovely smell of innocence and safety.
The whole scene was so beautifully breathtaking, so perfect, so pure, so untouched by malice and grief and pain. Though the expanse was entirely empty save for the pillars and little streaks of cloud, it was still lovely in an exquisitely simplistic way.
But all of that only lasted for an instant. It only flashed before my eyes, then it was gone, replaced by it's polar opposite.
The change was instantaneous. Beautiful, pale skies turned a dark red. The lighting went from perfect to painful, both horribly bright and awfully dark all at once. The ground became a horrid, rough substance covered in a thin layer of some strange, thick, black liquid that made moving practically impossible. Red fingers wove their way up the previously soft and cloud-like pillars, staining them a blood red hue. The pillars of blood rose up from the disgusting floor into the equally disgusting sky. Just as the blood had consumed the pillars, it also consumed the little trails of cloud the stretched out along the ground, leaving them the same blood red hue as the pillars and sky. The whole place smelled awful, a stomach churning combination of old, musty, decaying houses, filthy streets filled with filthy people, decomposing corpses, and, the most prominent scent, blood. Just the stench had me on my knees in the stagnant black substance sluggishly swishing around my legs, retching.
I threw my hands out the catch myself as I collapsed forward. The black liquid was thick, and felt like someone had mixed blood into jello. And the ground beneath it was rough and hard. The word that came to mind was unforgiving.
I looked up, tears seeping from the corners of my eyes. Spit and bile coated my lips and dribbled down my chin. All around me, large rectangles began form, surrounding me and dominated the otherwise empty landscape. The rectangles hovered off the ground, only held down by strings of blood that flowed from the window-like rectangles to the ground, joining the already existing streams. Then each of the rectangles - which stretched further than I could see - became black, then flickered, and suddenly each one of them had a different scene playing out in it.
'Memories...' I thought, gazing around me in wonder. Each memory was playing out from the persoective of the owner, a deathly skinny girl with black hair and bright, deep, gorgeous purple eyes. I stared up at the memory closest to me, and my wonder turned to horror. The scene playing before my eyes was awful.
"I got bread! So much bread! Father will be so proud! We'll eat tonight and tomorrow!" A girl's singsong voice rang out. She was skipping along, giggling and singing to herself.
Past short, ugly, muck covered buildings, and short, ugly, muck covered people, along a dingy, ugly, muck covered road, in a dark, ugly, muck covered city, the little girl ran. Her tangled hair swayed from side to side behind her and she scuttled along. I couldn't see her face, but I could tell from her voice that she was smiling.
At last, the girl reached a house that looked just like all the rest. Low to the ground, filthy, and small. She stopped immediately. The door was hanging open. Reaching one dirty hand down into her rags, she pulled out a knife, and proceeded cautiously into the home.
The loaves of bread fell to the ground. Which was covered in blood. Before the girl was a gut wrenching scene. A man, her father, was sprawled on his back on the ground. And soaked in his own blood. Four men stood over him, all holding long, blood covered knives. And they were all grinning from ear to ear.
The girl was frozen. The men hadn't noticed her yet, and were laughing down at the man below them.
"Not so tough now, are ya Paul? How's it feel to be helpless and in pain? Heh, it ain't so fun, is it?" The first man taunted. He raised his hand, and brought his knife down into the man's arm. Paul's face contorted in pain, and he whimpered, but didn't scream. The girl couldn't move, couldn't speak.
"You've got a little girl, don't you? Aw, poor lil thing. She'll be aaaall alone in the world. Unless we kill her too. Should we kill your little bitch?" The second man asked, still grinning.
The girl's father struggled to breathe, dragging in air through a blood clogged throat.
"Fuck you," he gritted out. The men laughed.
"We're not really into that shit, but maybe your little girl would be willing?" This time it was the third man who spoke. Paul opened his mouth to reply, but the fourth man, who had been standing to the side up until now, stepped over and plunged his knife deep into Paul's chest.
"You don't get to answer that. We'll take whoever we want, whenever we want. And that includes your lil bitch."
Finally, the girl could move. She silently and swiftly leapt forward, knife in hand. She was on the first man before any of them could react to her presence. She slashed her blade across his throat, a dark grin spreading over her gaunt face. She stabbed her knife into the second man's chest, laughing quietly as blood seeped down the knife onto her hands. The fourth man grabbed her arm, pulling the weapon roughly from her hand. Twisted her arms behind her back, he turned to his colleague.
"Well, well, well. Look what we have here. A lil bitch. Paul's lil bitch. What should we do with this murdering child? What do you think, Tom?"
The third man, Tom, shrugged.
"Hmmm... let's see..." Tom mused, stroking his chin and leaning forward to study the girl's face.
"Oh look at her pretty eyes. Never seen purple eyes 'afore. Have you seen these, 'Enry?" He droned, looking back up at Henry. Henry leaned forward, loosening his grip on the girl's arms.
Seeing an opportunity, the girl seized it. Lunging forward, she grabbed the knife in Tom's hand, and drove it to the hilt into his chest. Wrenching herself out of Henry's grasp, she bolted toward the door.
The girl ran like hell. She could hear shouts behind her as people began to examine the house she'd left behind. But she paid them no heed, instead focusing all her energy on running as fast as she possibly could. Shadows stretched around out around her, grabbing at her rags like demons trying to claw their way out of hell. And the girl ran from them.
I stared, shocked, at the memory window that was now replaying the whole thing. The sheer amount of blood in that single memory was sickening. And the men. They had been laughing, 'enjoying' the pain they inflicted upon their victim. Then again, the girl had seemed equally as thrilled with the death, if not the pain itself.
Shakily, I rose to my feet. I wanted to get out as quickly as I could. This place was vile, a literal nightmare. Refusing to look back at the despicable memory, I turned and walked as quickly as my weak, shaking legs would allow.
I stopped in front of another window. I didn't mean to stop. I didn't want to stop. But somehow, the memory seemed to pull me in, rendering my limbs useless. I stared, riveted, as another horror scene played out in front of me.
The scene showed a huge crowd, all gathered in front of a large stage, on which were two figures, both bound with chains and both looking totally calm and collected.
The memory view of the owner, the same girl from the other memory, but she was older. She was probably around 14 or 15. She wore a black, dirt covered hoodie that matched her black, dirt covered hair hanging around her scrawny shoulders. There seemed to be a dark fabric over her eyes, that she could easily see through, but others couldn't, leaving her stunning eyes hidden.
A voice rang out over the hubbub of the crowd, but it was strangely muted, the words indistinguishable due to the ringing in the girl's ears. The voice continued on, talking and talking for several minutes, before there was a massive cheer from the sizable crowd, and a flicker of fear showed on the two faces up on the stage.
'Death by cuts. Hundreds of cuts. All over their bodies. Shit shit shit what can I do!? I'm horribly weak at the moment, so I can't help. But I can't fucking stand here and watch my fucking friends bleed out! Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!'
The girl's thoughts were quietly emitted from the memory window.
Unable to do anything, the girl watched helplessly as two men, hoods pulled up over their heads to hide their faces, walk up onto the makeshift stage with long, curved, knives that were crusted with dried blood and rust. 'Nasty looking things.'
The men leaned over the bound pair, and began the execution with a quick swipe across both of their foreheads, creating a thin, shallow cut that released a curtain of blood over the criminals eyes, effectively blinding them. The girl clenched her jaw, but neither of them cried out or showed any other signs of pain. The crowd went wild, acting like they were at a rock concert, not an execution. It sickened me.
The two knives came down again, creating identical slashes on the criminal's right arms. And then they cut again. And again. And again. And again and again and again. Creating slash after slash. The two convicts were in obvious pain, but neither cried out, just knelt there, blood pouring into their eyes and coating their bodies, faces contorted in agony, occasionally twitching or convulsing.
It hurt me to watch it, and I had no idea who the hell these people were. But the owner of the memory seemed to know and deeply care for them. I could 'feel' the pain radiating out of the memory.
"Well aren't you a pretty little thing. What're you doing here, watching an execution?"
The memory owner jumped slightly when someone hissed into her ear. She had been too caught up in her thoughts to notice the man walking up behind her.
She was shaking with anger already. She was watching her friends bleed out in front of several hundred people. The man behind her chuckled, running a hand over her ass.
"You really are very pretty. You're gonna come with me, got it?" He growled at her. The girl snapped. She was in a hell of a lot of pain, mostly mental, and she was pissed. So, in one smooth motion, without any thought, she shipped around, grabbed the man behind her, and shoved him up against the wall she had been leaning on. She twisted his arm up, snapping it easily. The man cried out in pain, and the people around the two backed away, whispers and screams breaking out.
"Shut the hell up," the girl said, pushing against the man's broken arm. He cried out again. Without a second thought, the girl reached down, pulling a short knife out of her hoodie and slashed it across his throat. He gurgled, blood pouring out of his neck and dripping from his mouth.
"I said," the girl growled, "Shut. The hell. Up."
It started with one scream. Then another. And another and another. Until the entire square was filled with screams and shouts. The girl hissed angrily, clamping her hands over her ears, but the action did little other than render her hands immobile.
"WHY WON'T YOU ALL SHIT THE FUCK UP!?" she screamed, pulling her hands down and stabbing the nearest person, a middle aged man with brown hair and weak features. More screams erupted from the crowd. The girl stumbled towards the stage, anger twisting her lovely, dirt covered features. The crowd parted before her, running from the homicidal maniac.
A dozen or so men, dressed in Law Enforcement uniforms, stepped up, all holding handguns. They formed a line, raising their weapons, aiming at the girl.
"Oh fuck it."
The girl sighed, exasperated, and flickered forward. The sound of 13 handguns all being fired in unison was deafening, leaving a painfully loud ringing in the ears of all present. All 13 men were dead, killed in various ways. And the girl was totally unscathed.
Seemingly exhausted, the girl stumbled up onto the stage, falling to her knees before her two friends. They were wheezing, blood crusted all over their faces, arms, and legs. Most of the cuts were still bleeding. Gently, the memory owner gently placed her friend's heads on her lap, brushing away as much blood as she could.
"Damn you two. Couldn't keep out of trouble, could ya? Well, let's get you guys out of here- what is it, Kay?" The memory owner cut herself off and the other girl, Kay, reached up and took her hand.
"W-we can't move," she said, her arm trembling with the strain of reaching up. "Pretty clichè, isn't it Ly?" ("Ly" is pronounced as "lie")
"Yeah Ly. Just, stay with us for a minute?" The boy asked, his breath shaky and irregular. It obviously caused them both a huge amount of pain just to breathe, let alone talk. Ly nodded, trying to keep the tears along her lash line from falling down her cheeks.
"Of course. Whatever you want. I'm so sorry I couldn't help you. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I 'didn't' help you."
The two of them laughed quietly.
"Aw babe, it's ok. You couldn't. You're still recovering, aren't you? Just make sure you survive, and make sure you recover from the damn wound. It's not a scratch, it's very serious. You're probably in as much pain as we are. Right, M?" Kay said, bright green eyes looking at him hopefully.
The boy took as deep a breath as he could, which was quickly followed by a nasty coughing bout, before he was able to nod. He couldn't speak, his life fading quickly. Ly closed her eyes for a moment, blocking out the awful pain in her side. She glanced back down at her friends. She guessed they had less than a minute to live. They were both fighting with all they had to stay conscious.
Kay smiled at her friends, then, using any strength she had left, said, "hey Ly, remember, we love you babe."
M nodded, and added through clenched teeth, "yeah. We love you. And you should probably get going, I see more Law Enforcers coming."
Ly took a deep breath.
"Ok. Ok. I love you two too. Thank you. I-" she was cut off by two gunshots in quick succession. Kay's and M's bodies convulsed, and fell still, the light in their eyes gone, the life faded completely out of their bodies.
Ly looked up. A young blond man stood in front of the stage, his shockingly black eyes boring into Ly's purple ones. He was smirking.
Ly carefully slid her dead friends heads from her lap, laying them gently on the ground. She picked up a gun, and her friends hoodies, which had been tossed carelessly to the sides when the execution began.
She raised her gun, staring down the man before her from behind the protection of her blindfold.
"Look, I'm really tired, and pissed off. I'd rather not fight you. Plus, you're hot, so I'd prefer not to kill you. On the other hand, you just killed my two best and only friends, so I'm very inclined to kill you. Any thoughts?" Ly sounded tired.
The blond laughed.
"Well, I'm flattered." His smirk never failed. "I'd rather not be killed, honestly."
Ly shrugged.
"Well, I'm leaving. I hope I never see you again."
The man sighed, but still smiled.
"Sorry, can't let you. I sorta have to either capture or kill you. Since you're pretty, I'll let you decide."
Ly took a long, endearing breath.
"I appreciate that." Ly laughed quietly. Then raised her gun and shot the Law Enforcer in the leg.
"That's for killing my friends."
Ly turned and disappeared into the growing shadows. The man, despite being shot in the leg, he was still smirking.
I stared blankly at the memory. 'Who the hell was this girl!?' In two memories she had lost her father and her only friends, and killed at least 18 people.
Shaking even more than I had been before, I turned away from the memory. I began to run - or at least walk as quickly as I could, between the thick black liquid swishing around my ankles, and my trembling legs. Each memory I passed involved pain, murder, grief, and blood.
Desperate now, I stumbled on, practically sobbing. I needed to get out, and now. This place was awful. But unlike the other minds I'd visited, I couldn't seem to find a way out. I wandered around for what must have been hours, lost in the horror story that was Ly's mind.
I was stuck in this nightmare, and I couldn't see a way out.
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Yet again, many thanks to @dabisqueen 😘
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major-victory · 1 year
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So now that I've finished season 1 of bnha, I wanna try and do a little analysis of what I do/don't like about it, or in otherwords: despite being a flashy action shounen with a fun basic hook that is well drawn and voice acted, why does it lose me?
I can't add a readmore, so bear with me here
Overall
I overall like the show a good bit. Switching over to English has definitely made it more engaging for me, though it is Entirely Possible that it's primarily due to Chris Sabat carrying it for me personally. But all of the actors are great, theyre well suited to their roles, and they feel well directed. (And I'm not biased at all that I hear Saitou when Chris speaks shut up, im sorry my fave role of his is such a small one when the man literally voiced in DBZ)
The hook IS genuinely fun. I LOVE the concept of a kid showing such an urgent desire to help that he inspired a known pro hero to push himself as well, and I am always weak for Strong OP Master accidentally adopting a kid that he initially wrote off, but in such a way that he would Kill for said child. Better still when, in order to make the child his apprentice, he gives the child a piece of his own power (see: the breaker for another fun example of this narrative) and this ends up hurting him down the line.
Animation
The animation is also very fun. They let these kids make Great Expressions -- lots of wrinkles and lines, over exaggerated when necessary to drive home the intensity. The action and posing is fun, tons of foreshortening, great camera angles for a lot of the fights.
So with all of that being as fun as it is, I think it loses me in 2 places: narrative and lighting.
Narrative
Basically -- the pacing just feels Off. I think I'm not a huge fan of introducing shigaraki so early in the game, instead of having no build up to them as a threat, and then turning around and going into the sports fest... it isn't even whiplash, it just doesn't feel like those arcs were supposed to come one after the other like that. Like there should have been an arc before USJ that helped ramp things up a bit more, made the USJ bit feel more impact full. In stead it just punched you in the arm, said "Jah! Bet that was scary" then ran off leaving you more confused why you were punched in the arm at all.
Lighting
Lighting really just boils down to All These Scenes Look The Same. They all have the same lighting intensity and shadow placements, every scene is as saturated as the last. Even the shots of Deku in the night, or Deku leaving school at sunset have largely similar lighting, it's just the color itself that is off.
There is only 1 scene I can recall in those first 15 eps (I'm 2 eps into season 2 so shh) that had any distinct lighting: the scene where Deku completes his beach cleaning and the sun is still rising. It created a fun back-lit effect on him, and was gorgeous when combined with the raw emotion and his scream. Loved That.
But there were other opportunities to use lighting just as dramatically, especially in the USJ battle sequences, when Shigaraki first appears. This is such a terrifying, heavy set of fights, but the whole time its illuminated like it's just a sunny day. There's no dramatic shadows that obscure half a characters face, no fun colorful spec lighting to help them stand out against the combat around them. They just look the same as they do in any other scene. I think, writing about this now, that has a huge impact on the fact that these fights are occasionally losing me. They're fun they're fast, theyre flashy, and I like that, but they don't look any different.
That said, I know there's a few scenes later in the show that look to change this up a bit, but I'm not sure when they do, or how often either.
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makeste · 3 years
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“but I thought about how I needed to say this”
a.k.a. yet another meta dissection of The Apology. I actually wrote most of this up on Friday night based on the original Japanese (@pikahlua​ has an excellent translation up here, and I also used @hanashimas’ translations as a reference as well), but I wanted to wait until the official release, though that turned out to be a mixed bag to say the least lol.
I would also recommend reading @pikahlua​ and @class1akids​’ breakdowns of this scene (here and here, respectively), because they are excellent, and because if any scene deserves to have as many meta breakdowns written about it as possible, it’s this one.
anyway so here goes.
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Caleb did a more accurate job with this than the fanscan, even if he did try his best to take us out of the seriousness of the moment by throwing in that swiss cheese line lol. anyway so there are two things I want to talk about here. the first is the line about Izuku not remembering, which I thought was a nice touch. of course he doesn’t remember what Kacchan said back then. he wasn’t exactly in the soundest emotional state after seeing one of the people he cares about most taking a near-fatal blow that was meant for him. I’d be shocked if he remembers anything about the aftermath (including the way he flew into a mindless rage afterwards) right up until the point when he entered the OFA Interstellar Party Void with Tomura. anyway, so I thought that was a nice callback.
and speaking of emotional states, the other thing I wanted to talk about is the part that Caleb got right which the fan scanlation didn’t. “but I had more to say.” in other words, “stop trying to win on your own” wasn’t just a one-liner; it was meant to be the beginning of a much longer speech. “there were other things that I needed to say.”
like, can we just stop and talk about that for a second. because basically what this means is that in that instant, when Kacchan pushed Deku out of the way and got impaled, his one and only thought was that he needed to apologize to Deku. his life was presumably flashing before his eyes, he had no idea if he was going to survive or not, and the only thing on his mind was how urgently he needed to make things right with his former childhood friend.
moving on!
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so I have a confession to make, which is that I am relieved to see Katsuki describing this as the reason why he bullied Deku, as opposed to Horikoshi trying to retcon it into some sort of “secretly he was just trying to protect him and keep him out of harm’s way because he was worried” thing, which ngl would not have gelled very well with me. the thing is that I’m really not a fan of the whole “Kacchan Did Nothing Wrong” mentality that some fans seem to have. like, I have seen all sorts of convoluted attempts to find excuses for Katsuki’s shitty behavior, but in my view those attempts undermine what I love about his character in the first place. Katsuki is such a great character specifically because he is not perfect. his redemption arc is so compelling because he was such a giant asshole at the start. he was completely at fault, and he acknowledges this, and takes full responsibility for it. and that is fucking fantastic.
his arc is so great because it doesn’t rely on garnering sympathy by giving him a Tragic Past, or by trying to foist the blame for his behavior over on someone else. it’s an arc that acknowledges that redemption isn’t something you achieve by making people feel sorry for you; it’s something you have to earn by actively working to change and do better. and by forgoing the “misunderstood/tragic past” route, Horikoshi is making a statement that anyone can go down the wrong path, but that more importantly, anyone can also choose at any time to turn away from said path. there is only one requirement for doing so, and that is realizing that you’ve done wrong, and deciding that you want to change.
anyway, so in chapter 284 Kacchan of course had that whole speech about Deku not taking himself into account, and mentioned how that made him want to keep his distance. and a good chunk of fandom took this to mean that Katsuki’s bullying was actually a misguided response to Deku’s reckless tendencies -- sort of an “if I show him how weak and powerless he really is, I can get him to accept the reality that he’s quirkless, and that being a hero will just get him hurt or killed” type of thing. and I won’t lie, for a good while I was wondering myself if Horikoshi was really going to go down that route. and like I said, I am honestly relieved that he didn’t. not only for the reasons stated in the previous paragraph, but also because the message that would have sent -- that there are certain circumstances in which bullying can almost be excused because the bully had Good Intentions and was just trying to save the other person from themselves, and so it Wasn’t That Bad, Actually -- is all kinds of fucked up to say the least. so yeah, I’m glad we ended up steering well clear of that.
(ETA: this post was long enough already so I edited out the 3 additional paragraphs I originally wrote analyzing the dialogue from 284. but just to be clear, I’m not trying to imply that Kacchan worrying about Deku’s recklessness is a retconned thing that Horikoshi only threw into the story recently, because there are multiple instances throughout the story where he clearly is worried and in total denial of it. but I firmly believe those feelings are not what led to the bullying. they’re two separate things. Kacchan worrying about Deku is what prompts him to yell at him in chapter 1 when Deku comes to save him. but it’s not what incited him to burn his notebook and taunt him earlier in that same chapter. that action had a much meaner and more selfish motivation behind it, and I’m glad Horikoshi didn’t try to change it up last minute, because it wouldn’t have felt right.)
thankfully as of this chapter I think we can safely cross that out as a possibility, as we’re given the true explanation straight from Katsuki himself. and the truth is that he bullied Deku out of insecurity and jealousy and fear and intolerance. there was nothing noble about it. there were no good intentions concealed in his actions. there are no justifications given, no excuses offered, and no mitigating circumstances to be considered, other than the fact (which neither he nor Horikoshi bring up) that he was and is still a child, and that children make mistakes.
it’s an explanation that challenges many of fandom’s ideas on who is and isn’t eligible to be redeemed. there is no Ozai in Katsuki’s backstory. there’s no great tragedy that he spent a lifetime trying to rise above. the only villain in Katsuki’s story is Katsuki himself. the only darkness that he has to overcome is his own. and it’s challenging, because I think many people believe the only way someone can be redeemed for doing bad things is if bad things happen to them in return. but what Horikoshi is saying here is that that’s not the case. bad doesn’t erase bad. and the one and only way to truly earn redemption is by doing good.
and that’s what makes this such a phenomenal scene for me. by not shying away from Katsuki’s flaws and failings, and having him take full responsibility for them, Horikoshi keeps the apology from being self-serving, and underscores the true depth of Katsuki’s character development. the level of self-awareness he has here is something most people can only dream of. which is very fitting, as that’s perhaps the most important takeaway from his character arc -- that it’s only by acknowledging your own weaknesses and flaws that you can learn to overcome them and reach your full potential.
one last thing to point out here, which is that in the panel where Katsuki finally acknowledges his terrible treatment of Deku, Deku is not even visible. instead, Horikoshi drew the panel from a perspective that makes it appear that Katsuki is addressing this particular line not just to Deku, but to all of his classmates.
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again, he shows him taking full responsibility and admitting his wrongdoings in front of the people whose opinions and approval he cares about most. and just to clarify in case there’s any confusion from Caleb’s translation, Kacchan’s wording makes it very clear that he wasn’t just “mean” to Deku, but that he full-on bullied him (he uses the same verb -- “ijimeru” (苛める) -- that he did back in chapter 284). there’s no attempt to downplay his actions here.
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moving on now, this chapter also reaffirmed another thing about Deku and Kacchan’s relationship which I was glad to see revisited -- Kacchan’s unwavering belief in Deku’s ability. this is one of those paradoxical things about their relationship which I’ve always been fascinated by, but which is also kind of hard to explain, because I don’t want it to come off like I’m trying to put a positive spin on something which was unequivocally awful. like, please don’t think I’m trying to say that Katsuki’s bullying of Deku was in any way a good thing. but that being said, there’s also a strange irony at play here, which is that Katsuki’s jealousy and insecurity also betray the fact that even at his very worst, he never once underestimated Deku. he has always believed in Deku’s strength, even when that strength pissed him off and made him afraid and uneasy.
no one else -- not All Might, or even Deku’s own mom -- believed from the get-go that Deku could become a hero. but Katsuki never once counted him out, even when he was calling him a pebble in his shoe. he confesses here that even though he “tried to act superior by rejecting [Deku]”, in truth he was never able to shake the feeling that Deku was above him. long before he ever understood the concept of “win to save”, he knew instinctively that there was a strength in Deku’s heart that couldn’t be measured, and which had the potential to surpass even his own strength. and I’ve always felt that this was so important, because it’s the one aspect of their early relationship that hinted that on some level, however subconscious, Katsuki held the same type of faith in Deku that Deku always held in him. it was one of the few things that hinted at there being a possible path towards reconciliation one day. and it paved the way for the most important shift in their relationship to date, when Katsuki finally realized who Deku got his quirk from, and responded not with resentment or spite, but with acceptance.
moving on, I also really love the way we see them portrayed at the different stages of their childhood throughout this speech, and how it perfectly lines up with the dialogue. from small children (when Katsuki talks about his insecurities first manifesting), to middle schoolers (when he talks about the bullying), to high schoolers (when he talks about the past year and everything he’s learned at U.A.). Horikoshi really didn’t have to go that hard, but he did, and that’s why we love him.
and then we finally get to That Part.
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where do I even start with this there are so many things omg.
the bow. this is the one and only time Katsuki has ever bowed to anyone of his own volition as far as I recall. and this absolutely is a bow, just to be clear, even though his form is straight-up garbage (very Kacchan-esque, with his feet and arms spaced apart because he’s still a punk after all). this is Kacchan showing more humility and respect than he’s ever shown to anyone else in his entire life.
regarding “Izuku”, I actually have mixed feelings about this to tell the truth. I think it was a good call here because it was incredibly effective in setting the tone and showing just how serious Kacchan is. however if he continues to use “Izuku” rather than “Deku” from here on out, that would give the impression in hindsight that all his past usage of “Deku” really was meant as an insult, which would undermine some of my favorite scenes. I would really like to believe that since DvK2 or thereabouts, Kacchan has (mostly) been using “Deku (affectionate)” rather than “Deku (useless loser)”, lol. but if he switches to the “nicer” name on a permanent basis following his apology, it implies that the previous nickname was indeed being used cruelly. and so honestly I hope this was just a one-time thing, because I do think that in Katsuki’s mind, the name “Deku” hasn’t been meant as a slight to him for a long time now.
“my truth/this is what I truly feel” -- the word Katsuki uses in Japanese is honne (本音), and if you’re familiar with the concept of honne/tatemae, that’s the same “honne” he’s talking about here. it means that he’s casting aside all of his walls and facades and expressing what he truly feels. and of course, one of the fascinating things about Katsuki’s character is that he’s the exact opposite of most people in that he chooses to put his meanness on full display to the public, and ironically it’s the kindest parts of himself which he tends to keep the most carefully guarded and hidden away. this also means that while his rage and anger are very often insincere and put on just for show, those relatively few occasions where he lets his humanity truly shine through are pretty much 100% genuine, as is the case with this one here.
and Deku’s face says it all when it comes to how powerful those moments can be as a result.
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and this, right here, is why it wasn’t enough for Katsuki to atone solely through his actions, and why he needed to actually say the words as well. it’s not that the words are more important; obviously the actions are far and away the most important part, and carry far more meaning. but the reason why Katsuki needed to say the words as well is simply because Izuku needed to hear them. needed to, and deserved to, because this is one of the most important people in the world to him.
and so he deserves to know that the relationship isn’t just one-sided, and that he is just as important to Kacchan as Kacchan is to him. he deserves to know that Kacchan understands how horribly he treated him, and that he’s sorry for it. and he deserves to know that Kacchan, without any expectation of it changing their relationship -- meaning that he will continue to feel this way regardless of what Izuku says or does from here on out -- cares about him. now more than ever, with AFO out there doing everything in his power to make Izuku feel as alone as possible, this is something that he really, really needed to hear.
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so this part has some interesting wordplay which neither Caleb’s translation nor the fan scanlation was really able to get across. basically, in the Japanese version, when Katsuki talks about “those ideals”, Horikoshi uses the kanji for “ideal”, but pronounces it as “All Might.” obviously the meaning of this isn’t too hard to decipher, as we all know how much both boys admire All Might. to them, he absolutely is synonymous with the Ideal. so this is a way of showing that respect they both have towards him, even as Katsuki goes on to point out the one fatal flaw that All Might was never able to overcome.
and speaking of interesting wording, as others have noted, at this point in his speech Katsuki switches from “temee” (which he was using earlier during the “your strengths and my weaknesses” part) to “omae” (“omae” being a less insulting word for “you”, though still very manly and tough-sounding), which is definitely a big deal. though fwiw this is not the first time he’s used “omae” for Deku (he switches to it briefly right after DvK2, when he tells Deku “you had the strongest guy lay the groundwork for you -- don’t lose”, and then later when they’re walking back to the dorms and he says he’ll learn and get stronger by watching everyone around him just like Deku did). it’s definitely a good choice on Horikoshi’s part though, as it makes this last part of the speech sound more earnest and sincere.
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just a quick note, he does indeed use a plural pronoun here, as in “the obstacles that you can’t overcome, we will overcome.” but as @pikahlua​ pointed out, the “we” here is ambiguous -- it could either mean “we” as in class 1-A -- “we will overcome them for you” -- OR it could mean “we” as in all of them -- class 1-A and Deku. “we will overcome them together.” idk about you, but I know which one gets my vote.
anyway, and so this is the line that finally wins Deku over and allows him to let go of his fears, however briefly. what I love about this is Kacchan’s utter conviction. one thing that Caleb’s translation doesn’t quite get across is Kacchan’s use of the word morenaku -- “without exception” -- when he talks about how they’re going to save everyone and win. it echoes that same sentiment he showed back during the Joint Training arc -- that it’s not a perfect victory unless they save everyone. every last person. and he explicitly lists Deku among their number, just so there can be no doubt.
and Deku’s response to this (or at least his thoughts, since he’s not really able to get many words out) pretty much brings everything full circle here.
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he acknowledges that everyone else has gotten ahead of him. which is especially meaningful given who he’s standing directly across from. because for most of the series, as we all well know, it’s been Kacchan who was woefully lagging behind Deku in the character growth department. but now Deku himself is acknowledging that not only has Kacchan finally caught up at last, but that he and the others have surpassed him. which is only temporary, I should add, as I have zero doubt that Deku will catch up again soon. but the fact remains that just as Deku’s rapid increase in strength and skill left Kacchan scrambling to keep up earlier in the series, Kacchan’s extraordinary character development has now left Deku in that same position. as All Might once put it, “when he’s starting at level one, and you’re already at level 50, it’s only natural that you’ll be growing at different rates.”
and what’s so wonderful about this though is that the two of them are finally approaching that point where they’ve both caught up to each other and are finally starting to level out. Deku is a full-on badass, and Kacchan is out here talk-no-jutsuing with the best of them. the two of them have been chasing and chasing after each other this entire time, and now they’re finally just about ready to meet in the middle at long last, with each of them fully embodying both of those two crucial aspects -- win, and save.
just about. because Deku still needs some help catching up. but seeing as help has already been offered -- and accepted -- I can’t imagine it will be very long now, and I can’t wait to see him finally overcoming those fears and doubts with his friends by his side. it’s going to be such a powerful moment.
and last but not least,
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or, as I prefer,
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you had one job, Caleb. flkjsdlk.
but at least this provides a good opportunity to note that unlike the “we’ll help you handle it” line earlier in the speech, here the phrasing is left up to interpretation, as he doesn’t use a pronoun. so it could be “we know”, or, as the fan scanlation put it, “I know.” or it could be both. regardless, it’s good stuff.
anyway, and so Deku passes out, and in the process Horikoshi gives us one last parting metaphor, just in case anyone still thinks Kacchan is all talk because they haven’t been paying attention for the past 322 chapters (more likely than you think). once again, Katsuki’s actions speak louder than his words (even his nice words) ever could: he is literally there to catch Deku when he falls.
so that’s it! my sincere thanks to anyone who actually read through all of my endless ramblings about this scene which I have been waiting for since day one. props to Horikoshi for taking on an impossibly difficult task, and pulling it off with all of the emotion and care and nuance that I’ve come to expect from his writing. imo he delivered on every single level with the exception of the aftermath, which I don’t consider to have actually happened yet. Deku’s part of this is definitely a “to be continued.” but yeah, as far as Kacchan’s part goes, 10/10. so fucking proud of this kid.
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afictionalwhor3 · 2 years
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I wanna request an angst for Chris Evans! Soo here it goes.
Reader caught Chris tangled in the sheet with another woman. Chris anticipated all the hurtful scene - screaming, crying and all but it didn’t came. She was calm and collected. He tried to beg her no to leave, she cave in. That’s what he thought. But in the middle of the night, whilst Chris is in deep sleep, she vanished. Until a year later, while Chris started looking for her again he came across her IG where she wrote about the unborn baby “I was ready to spend sleepless nights with you but I guess you’re not…”
Hey anonymous! Angst usually makes me cry, but in a weird way I thoroughly enjoyed writing this. I truly believe this is the best work I've done to date and I hope this is everything you could have wanted.
Warnings: Cheating. Curse words?
Word Count: 4.1k
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You sigh pulling into the driveway of yours and Chris’ shared home. You rest your head on the wheel taking a deep breath. The last few weeks have been crazy. Your job was opening a second location and you were going to run it. Because of that, you were the head of the committee that oversaw everything was okay and good for opening. Of course, that meant a lot of long hours at the office. Chris understood though. He had spent weeks away while filming, and he would support you in this big moment. He was incredibly proud of you and swore he would be there with you the day the building opened.
As it got closer and closer to opening day, it seemed like the days got more awful and more stressful. You take a look at the beautiful ring on your finger and smile. Most days the thought of coming home to Chris was the only that got you through. Big things were about to happen for the both of you. You were very excited about your growing future. Now, you can look forward to going inside and cuddling and ordering cheap take-out.
You take your keys out the ignition and grab your purse getting out of the car. You lock the doors making your way to the front door. If you were more alert you would’ve noticed the unfamiliar car parked across the street. If you were more alert you would’ve thought it odd the front door was unlocked. If you were more alert you would’ve thought something was wrong when you came in and saw Dodger desperately scratching at the glass sliding door. If you were more alert you would’ve picked up on the familiar sounds of your bed creaking. You could’ve prepared yourself for the scene when you opened the door.
The love of your life. On top of another woman. Your mind was running crazy. You couldn’t correctly string together one thought. You weren’t just angry, you were pissed. You were sad. You were hurt. All those emotions got lodged in your throat and burned your eyes. The skank under him just looked at you and smirked. You shook your head, there was no way you were about to cry now, no way. Chris noticed her gaze looking over his shoulder to see you. He immediately jumps away from her like that would stop the image that continued on replay in your head. You stood in the doorway as still as a statue. Your purse was still in your hand.
“Y/n. Y/n. I can explain this. I promise I can explain” He says grabbing his boxers and putting them on walking to you. You felt numb, usually, Chris walking towards you would put a smile on your face. Now you just wanted to smack him. The skank sits up that dumb smirk still on her lips,
“Maybe I should go,” She says her tone sultry. She makes a show of getting out of the bed, your bed, slowly. She puts on her pants and opts for Chris’ t-shirt, you were supposed to be the only one wearing his t-shirts. She swings her hips walking by you “I know my way out” She whispers as she goes by.
Chris knew you. He’s seen you mad, sad, and everything in between. He knew that when you got quiet, meant you were pissed off more than anything. He walks over cupping your face and making you look at him “Hey talk to me y/n. I can explain everything.” He couldn’t even be bothered to wipe the lipstick off his neck.
“I don’t wanna hear it, Chris. I’m leaving” You say calmly, placing your hands on his wrists, trying to move his hands, but he doesn’t budge.
“No, please listen. I love you y/n. That whorebag meant nothing. You have just been working so much. That’s no excuse, but I was lonely. My heart belongs to you. And only you. I promise that. I wouldn’t have put that ring on your finger if I thought anything different.” He says. You hear his words but you aren’t really processing them. You are comprising a plan of your own. You were hurt, and you were going to make sure you hurt him back.
“Okay.” Is all you say, keeping your composure. You weren’t going to yell or cry or scream (even though you really wanted to).
“Okay? We’re okay? You’ll stay?” Chris asks, smiling and you nod, forcing a sweet smile. He tried to kiss you, and that was a line too far. You pushed him away, shaking your head.
That night the two of you are laying in bed Chris has his arm across your stomach and his head on your shoulder “I know what I did was wrong y/n. I know I’m gonna have to regain your trust, but we’re going to be okay right?” He asks hopefully and looks up at you. His tone was scared and it almost made you feel bad. Almost. You smile right back saying,
“We’re going to be okay.”
Once you were sure Chris was in deep sleep you acted on the plan you crafted hours earlier. You slid out of his hold and packed all your stuff. Your clothes, toiletries, pictures, everything that said you lived here was gone. You were thinking about writing a note, but he didn’t deserve a note. Not when he stomped on your heart so hard it broke into a million little pieces. Before you left you took one last look at the engagement ring that felt heavy on your finger, but not in a good way. You placed it on Chris’ nightstand and walked out of his life.
1 year later
When you left Chris’ life went to shit. That morning he woke up he searched all over for you. Your stuff was out of the bathroom, your closet was empty, your car and keys were gone. When he got downstairs he found Dodger laying at the door whimpering.
He didn’t have the gall to tell his family you left him. Because then they would ask why. His family loved you. They didn’t find out until you sent out mail telling everyone the wedding was canceled. There were texts from friends and family. Knocks at the door, emails from the press asking for answers, but he answered none of them.
For a little while, that woman would come around again and again. Even though he didn’t want to, he would indulge in her. And every time it became more apparent she wasn’t you. She couldn’t make him as happy as you could, didn’t touch him the same way, and she was nowhere near as beautiful as you. Chris would spend nights on nights wondering how he messed up his life so bad.
Some days he would wake up pissed off. You lied to him. That night you told him you two would be okay. You promised you two would be okay. Chris knew he would have to earn your trust again, but he was willing to do it. He loved you. But then he remembered how bad he hurt you. And that fury turned back into the sadness he walked around with these days.
His vice became drinking. He read all the articles about the two of you. You were tight-lipped about the reason why so all they could do was speculate. This only fueled him to drink more. When he was drunk some days he could drown the thoughts of you. Most of the time you were all he could think about. Your smile, the way you would laugh, when you would grumble at him for waking you up too early. He would finish his days looking at the photos and videos of you that still lived on his phone and he would cry himself to sleep.
It was coming up on the year anniversary of the day you left. The day he ruined everything. When he tried to call you it said the line was disconnected. You changed your number. He asked your friends for it, but they refused. He even got as low to reach out to your job but they wouldn’t give it up. He hadn’t heard or seen anything about you in the last year. Isn’t it crazy how two people could be so in love, now they were nothing more than strangers.
It was another drunk night for him. Beer bottles littered his kitchen table. Dodger whimpered banging his empty food bowl before walking to his bed and curling into it. Even he had missed you. Tonight was worse than it had been since the day you left. He got the sudden urge that he had to find you. He had to know that you were okay. For his own selfish reasons, he needed to know that you didn’t move on.
The first couple of days he had tried to find your Instagram after you deleted your old one. He went back to Instagram and started typing a few name combinations. Chris knew you were a creature of habit and after a few tries, he found your new Insta. When he opened your profile he was shocked at how overwhelmed he was. There were so many pictures of you pregnant! And the last few had been of you and the same baby. He went to an older picture that looked like the baby had just been born. The caption read:
“I was ready to spend sleepless nights with you but I guess you weren’t. This is my story. My pregnancy might not have gone the way I thought it would, but I was definitely not alone. Now I am happy to introduce you all to Kai August y/l/n”
3 months ago
Chris read that paragraph over and over again. The words Kai and pregnancy bounced around his brain. You knew you were pregnant and never told him. He remembers that the two of you would say that if you ever had a boy you would name it Kai. You loved the name because you said it sounded happy and carefree. And that’s how you would want your son to be. Chris liked it because…. Well, you liked it. And Chris would do anything to make you happy. Until he didn’t.
Chris didn’t know what to do with himself. He was pissed off again. You knew you were pregnant and still left him. Then he was sad again. He hurt you so bad you didn’t even want him in your baby’s life. The baby didn’t even have his last name. He knew the baby was his. You weren’t like him, you were loyal, committed, you wouldn’t sleep with someone else. The timeline doesn’t match up for you to be with someone else and already have a baby. The timeline does fit for it to be his.
Chris scrolled through the newer pics and it was you and your baby. Mirror selfies of the two of you. Pictures in the park. You were living the life you two spent nights talking about. Except you were doing it without him. Chris was on a new mission now. He had to find your address. He had to find you. He didn’t even know if you were still in Boston.
Was it the right thing? Probably not, you moved away for a reason. But now that he knew he had a son in the world, he had to find you whether you wanted him to or not. Chris knew it would take some time because you made sure no one in Chris’ life would have access to that information. During that time he would become a man again. Even if you didn’t want anything to do with him, he wanted to be a father to his son. He knew you wouldn’t let him do that in the state he was in. He sent a text to his manager and started his comeback.
First things first was he got back in contact with his family. He sat down with them and apologized for the way he’s treated them this past year and finally confessed to what he did. He could sense the disappointment, especially from his mom, but they were happier than ever to have him back in their lives. He didn’t want to tell them about Kai yet. Not until he saw you again.
Then, he stopped drinking. It was harder than he thought it was, but every time he wanted to drink he would play with Dodger or play the piano. He got back to doing those things again. He also got back in shape. Drinking every day came with the beer belly and Chris made it a goal to get back in shape. He shaved his beard down and shaved the hair with it. He needed this clean, fresh, look again.
His manager would constantly send him updates about where they were in finding where you lived, but it was proving harder than normal. You didn’t even live in Massachusetts anymore so they would have to look through every state. If they couldn’t find you then, well they would have to look international. And who knows how long that would take. You really didn’t want to be found. While Chris waited for updates, he went back to answering work emails and reading scripts. He was truly getting his life together again.
It had been eight weeks since he had sent his team on a mission to find you. Chris felt almost like himself again. There was a missing piece to his life and that was you. He was on the couch reading a script for a role he was thinking about going out for. Usually, he would talk to you about what you thought, but obviously, he couldn’t do that anymore. The saying that you don’t know what you truly have until it’s gone has never been truer for Chris. He knew how much he relied on you for advice and such. But he definitely took the little moments, like talking about a script, for granted. His phone rang and without looking at it he picked “Chris” He said still reading the script.
“Chris. It’s Nick. We found them” Is all he says and Chris drops the script.
“Where are they?” He asks standing up and quickly making his way to his room to pack a bag.
“New Jersey. She bought a house out there and has a new job. Chris I don’t want to sound like a bad guy but it looks like she is doing really well. We found out the little boy recently turned five months old, but there’s no way to tell if it’s yours. I can send you the address, but Chris are you sure you want to do this?” He asks. Chris knows he isn’t really thinking properly but he needed to see you.
“Yes. Can you get me the first flight out?” He asks hastily throwing things in a bag. He can hear Nick sigh but he agrees.
“Yeah. I’ll send over the information when I’m done” He says and hangs up.
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Chris has been in New Jersey for a week. He drives by the address every day. Sometimes he catches you leaving your house with the baby. You still look good. You just had a baby and somehow you looked even better than the day you two met.
Chris has performed for live audiences and been featured in blockbuster films. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to finally knock on your door. He was scared more than anything that you would slam the door in his face. Then he would be in the same place he was over a year ago. He knew at some point you would pick up on him constantly driving by, and you would probably call the police. It was Chris’ eighth day when he finally talked himself up to doing it. He pulled in front of your house and sat out there for 45 minutes talking himself up again. He checked his watch, 6:00 p.m, he looked at your front door. It was time.
Chris got out of the car taking a deep breath. He put his hands in his pockets after closing the door. It was cold in New Jersey in February. Nothing like Boston, but it was cold. He walked up to the pathway to the front door taking a deep breath and knocking twice. Chris’ heart hasn’t beaten this fast in his life. He could hear your footsteps approaching the door and you opened it.
“Sorry, how much do I owe you again?” You ask looking through your wallet laughing softly. Chris was dumbfounded. He couldn’t believe how close he was to you again. You still had the same laugh that made him smile ear to ear. You were so beautiful. There was this wonderful glow about you, and Chris didn’t know what else but you looked ethereal. At not hearing a response you look up the soft look leaving your face. He can see your eyes fill with anger and see you closing the door. He stops you,
“Please y/n. Don’t. At least hear me out.” Chris pleads.
“Chris!” You yell then take a deep breath. When he broke your heart a year ago you didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing your tears, and you wouldn’t do that now. “I don’t even wanna know how you found my address. But Chris, I want nothing to do with you.” You say trying to close the door again and he stops you again. You groan frustrated looking at him,
“Then at least let me meet my son y/n.” Your body tenses up at this. He must have found your Instagram. Damnit you knew you should’ve made that page private. Deep down you knew you wanted him to find it and know you were doing fantastic without him. Now that he was in front of you, you were trying to think of a lie to tell him. But you knew no matter what you said Chris would know it was his.
“I want to be a father to him. You know how much I’ve wanted to be a dad and I don’t want him growing up without a dad when I can be in his life. I’m going to be a hundred percent honest with you. When you left I became a void. And I don’t want it to seem like I’m blaming you cause I’m not. I broke your heart and for that, I’m truly sorry. No woman has ever meant as much to me as you. I figured you didn’t want me, but I knew I had to become a man again and be a father to my son. I’ve spent the last eight weeks looking for you two. Trying to get my shit together again. Now all I want to do is meet my son at least. I know you y/n. I know he’s mine. On your own terms, I can hopefully get visitation. I’ll buy a house here. I don’t care y/n. I just want to be in his life.” Chris says panting. He’s been planning that speech for so long and it feels so good to finally say it.
You stand there processing everything he just said. Chris hurt you so much. You would never admit it, but you cried for weeks. Then you remembered you had a life groiwng in you, and there was no time to cry. You knew you had to make the best decision for not only you, but for your unborn child. At the time, it was getting the hell out of Boston and someway, somehow, you ended up in New Jersey. Then again here he was. He had spent the last eight weeks looking for you guys, and he looked good. You knew he wasn’t lying about getting his life together again. He was out here begging to be a father to your kid, he already planned for you to say no. How many moms out there wished the father of their kids would put this much effort into wanting to be in his kids lives. If you were being honest you wanted Kai to know his father. There was no tangible reason he couldn’t other than your own heartbreak. You take a deep breath looking at him.
“Listen to me and listen to me good Christopher,” You say. You only ever used his first name if you were super serious. “If it weren’t for that beautiful little boy in there I would most likely slap you and never talk to you again. Me and you? Nothing. But I will allow you to be in his life. I don’t know how long you’re in town for but you can come by and see him every day. Then we will figure out visitation. But there will be nothing between us. Point blank” You say and Chris nods. He is willing to take it. You step to the side and Chris enters the house. He didn’t realize how cold he was until he entered the warmth of your house.
Your house was nice. Spacious but not too big. Nice furniture, baby toys all over the place, pictures everywhere. He knew you loved pictures. You closed the door and Chris saw the coat rack hanging up his jacket.
“Follow me,” You say walking ahead of him and up the stairs. He could finally take you in. You had on yoga pants and a hoodie. Your favorite at-home outfit. He could tell after all this time that your body had changed, due to the baby, but you still looked good in his eye. You walked into a nursery painted blue with fish all over the walls. There was an obvious water theme going on. There is a white crib in the center of the room you walk over to. You lean down and see your baby boy’s eyes wide open and looking at you.
“Hello, my love. Were you waiting for mama?” You ask him as he starts kicking around happily. You smile big and pick him up. You place him on your hip and Chris takes a hesitant step forward. You take a deep breath still looking Kai, “Meet your daddy baby” You whisper to him and Kai stares at him. You knew he didn’t understand you, but you felt it was important for you to acknowledge Chris was Kai’s father. Chris walks over to you,
“Can I hold him?” Chris asks and you nod. You knew Chris knew how to hold a baby and you place him in his arms. You see tears come to Chris’ eyes and they just run down his face. He tries to stop them, but he knows there is no point. He feels himself letting all his emotions out. He unembarrassedly lets the tears stream down his face. You can’t help but feel your own tears burn you eyes. As much as you hated him for what he did to you, he was the love of your life. This moment was powerful enough to make a grown man cry, obviously.
“Hi. I’m your dad. I know I just met you but I love you so much” He says in a whisper his voice cracking as he looks down at him. Kai has on a red and white polka dot onesie you just changed him into before his nap. Chris uses a finger to rub his belly gently and Kai grabs his finger in both his little hands and Chris laughs softly. “I love you so much y/n. I didn’t think I would be able to feel more love than that for someone. But right now it feels like my heart is about to burst. I’ve never felt emotions like this before” He says looking at you tears still running down his face.
You walk over and put your head on his shoulder. You look down at Kai looking up at the two of you. No matter how much disdain you may have for him, or how much you both hurt each other, you two brought something beautiful into the world. For this small second in time, you would enjoy this beautiful moment with the two most important people in your life.
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clouds-rambles · 3 years
Note
hi bestie!! i loved the prompt you wrote where the reader dies in the genshin boys arms,, so do you think you could do that for zhongli and xiao? :]
We about to cry again huh?
Bro Stormbearers Lair is making me sad and for what? All I’m doing is looking for chests. Bruh. Kinnie moment
Pairing(s); (Seperate) Zhongli, and Xiao x reader
Warnings; major character death, angst, hurt/no comfort, injury description, blood
Keep reading under the cut!
Zhongli
He had lost many a person over the millennia, so loss isn’t exactly foreign to the ex archon
But you, even if you were mortal. In Zhongli’s eyes you would grow old with him. You would get to see your children grow into adults, you would get to see grand children, maybe you would even get to see great grand children if you were lucky.
But no
Your body lays limp in Zhongli’s arms. You were both fighting a particularly tedious foe, like you have done some many times before. But this time ended with you dying
And Zhongli didn’t even get to say his goodbyes to you for he was too preoccupied with putting down the enemy. Like has happened so many times before, people close to him, gone without even a goodbye let alone a kiss on the cheek
It had happened with Guizhong too. One day she was there fighting beside him and the next. Gone
Zhongli finds himself doing something that he hasn’t done in a very long time. He cries. He cries for you. Your loss of life, for your loss of experience. For all those years he was going to spend with you. For all those years that he did spend with you that are going to be nothing but a painful memory that he has to dwell on to remember why he’s alive
How would he explain it to his children? Children that are certainly not going to understand why one of their parents are gone. Especially when the said parent is used to being gone for long periods of time? How would he explain this to himself? That the person he loves above all things has been taken away?
Hu Tao is funnily enough the one to find Zhongli dry sobbing in the middle of the plains. She says something about how she was in the area, but really? Hu Tao had this sudden gross gut feeling, as if your spirit was trying to call out to her. The gross gut feeling she had was right
Hu Tao suddenly ever so professional helped the broken Zhongli up. She doesn’t mention it when his trousers are stained by your blood, nor does she mention Zhongli’s wet face. Hu Tao knows better, especially when dealing with the dead.
The service is as small as it could physically be, considering that just in Liyue you and he have made so many friends that want to say goodbye
Both Zhongli and his children are so overwhelmed with emotion that none of them cry at the service. But everyone knows how they’re feeling. 
After the service Zhongli sits his kids down and tries to explain everything to them without crying. He must stay strong for his beautiful children, he wont let himself crutch onto them.
Often when the kids are tucked away happily in bed Zhongli will visit your grave. Often with flowers, it doesn’t matter which ones. You always had a way of finding beauty in even the weeds that litter both the garden and the wilds
On more than one occasion Zhongli has found Xiao and Ganyu silently saying goodbye to you. In all honesty you were the reason why the human adepti started seeing the ex-archon in the first place. It’s only right they offer their blessings to the person who bought them closer to the only father figure they have
As the years pass your loss has gotten easier. Zhongli still visits your grave often and occasionally brings the kids to say hello. 
Though Hu Tao cannot help but note that Zhongli still wears his wedding ring on his finger. And sometimes, she can catch glimpses of what she can only presume to be your wedding ring hanging around his neck.
Zhongli isn’t going to be letting your memory within him die anytime soon
Xiao
Having a mortal lover really wasn’t the best plan for Xiao. But he had always pictured at least you getting old. That way it would be less painful for the adeptus to let you go.
But fate obviously didn’t want that for him
He should have been more careful about having you near. You had helped him open up, so much so displays of PDA were something that he really began to enjoy. Holding your hand as you wonder about Wangshu’s market stalls, or kissing each others cheeks just when you feel like it
That’s what must have enticed the Abyss to target you. While you were defenseless
It was just a night like any other. Xiao had decided to go out for some monster slaying. He had noticed a slowly growing presence and generally a night out slaying monsters cleared out the area for a week or two
And it was going great until he heard the bloodcurdling scream of his name. If Xiao wasn’t a lightning fast adepti the scream of his name alone would have caused him to cry
The scene as he entered your room was much worse
The first thing he notices is the smell of the elemental traces of the abyss, but that smell is quickly overpowered by a metallic smell Xiao has become more than acquainted over in his lifetime. Blood
They you are lead on your bed, somewhere that should have been a safe space for both you and Xiao by extension
“Xiao” you speak again between laboured breaths, he is by your side in an instant, he clasps your hand in his
“Tell me who, I’ll ki-” he says before you interrupt
“shh” you shush with a weak smile “Xiao, I’ll” you pause coughing “I’ll find you in my next life, I promise” you manage to say
“[name], [name] stay with me!” Xiao yells as he begins to shake your body. It’s obvious from your glassy eyes and lack of breath that you’re not going to
Xiao leaves Goldet to clean up the room of blood, and you as he tracks down the culprit of your demise
He eventually does. But Xiao realises that much time has passed since your death. How long had he been pursuing this abyss herald? Days? Weeks?
When Xiao returns to Wangshu Goldet almost hugs him exclaiming that she and her husband had been worried sick. They had almost come to the conclusion that he to had taken his own life
“How long have I been gone?” Xiao inquires
“Four months” Goldet responds “We tried to hold [name]’s funeral back as much as we could, but we buried them three months ago. I’m sorry Xiao”
The adepti shakes his head. A million thoughts race his mind as he ponders what he should do next. Visit the grave and make himself be lost in your memory? Or just bury you in his head like he had done with the yaksha during the war?
He settles on both
Xiao visits your grave and says his goodbyes. He sets up some incense to help your spirit rest if its in turmoil before he turns to leave your grave. Your memory is like a wound. He will bury it in the sand like all the others in due time
A hundred years later is when he visits your grave again. Not because he forgot to before. But because this wound of your memory has infected his brain. In the last decade your memories have resurfaced once more
The memories range from the first time the two of you shared a kiss, shared the bed to when he had reached you in the bedroom
Xiao wonders to the promise your dying breaths offered, were they an empty promise like all other dying breaths? Or was this a true one?
“You know I’ve been tending to this grave for the last decade or so” a voice behind Xiao speaks. “My name isn’t [name] but I think I am them” the voice continues standing just behind the yaksha
“A hundred years is a little long for you to have grown” Xiao tells the figure behind him. You hum
“I think I was blessed by the gods” you confess “For I am truly a century old”
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Watching the Rise of the Titans movie and I'll be documenting all of my thoughts/reactions here. [Spoiler Warning]
So instead of reblogging every new update, I'm just going to have this post up on my phone as I watch and type my reactions in a bullet list format.
Nari's human disguise is so cute. As someone who does have a cottagecore aesthetic, I want to cosplay her so bad
Are Skrael and/or Belroc non-binary coded? Regardless, I'm also obsessed and I want to fuck Skrael and be Belroc.
STEVE CARING ABOUT JIM BEING HURT YESSSS!!! My god his redemption has probably been one of the greatest there is because he doesn't just suddenly go from being a bully to a completely good person. You can see the gradual shift in learning better throughout the shows which is awesome.
IN NEW YOOOOOOORRRRRRRK!!!!!! CONCRETE JUNGLE WHERE DREAMS ARE MADE OFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!
The mugshot montage reminded me of season 1 of trollhunters when toby and Jim were arrested at the museum.
STRICKLER PUT A RING ON IT??? HE'S THE ONLY DILF IVE EVER ACTUALLY AGREED WAS HOT WYM I CAN'T HAVE HIM??? well I'm still really happy about his arc over the series probably one of my favorite character growths.
Eli my guy got his growth spurt!!! As an 18 year old who is still 5'0", I'm happy but envious for him
So I went into this movie without watching any trailers or promo, but I doubt anything could have prepared me for the existence of mpreg. In fact, I wasn't going to document my reactions until I saw that.
NAMURA!!!!!!!!! MY BELOVED!!!!!! I CAN STILL THIRST FOR YOU WITHOUT GUILT
The coach teacher just called the kids zoomers so I have to dock one point from my final rating just because of that. Unforgivable
Those husky animation models suck lmao
Oh fuck the titans got power ranger zords!!
God why did they include the mpreg??? This movie would have been perfect without it.... After that plot point being revisited only one time I'm already beyond done with it
Like it's bringing me back to the v*ltron days where they're was a suspiciously high amount of klance omegaverse and mpreg fics and art created and it physically hurts because Steve and Keith's voice actor is the same person meaning this is especially cursed to me since I was unfortunately in the v*ltron fandom and remember all of that
But like on another note, how old are these characters again??? I haven't checked any wikis because of spoilers but is Steve an adult??? I know aja might be technically a lot older than 18 because alien but is whatever age she is equivalent to an adult as far as emotionally and physically in Akaridion development??? IS THIS A TEEN (M)PREGNANCY IN A KIDS SHOW????
Like bruh I saw a singular post on here before going into the movie that was like "rott spoilers without context" and there was a pregnant belly but I was absolutely not expecting the actual context of it. I'll find the post after I finish and edit this post to tag the creator right here: @makoden
This entire post is just gonna be me ranting about mpreg huh
Anyway I love the whole roundtable allusion to the legends of king arthur (not the toa version but the one he's based off)
THERE'S 3 TO 5 BABIES????? I need to take a break bruh this is just too much
Alright I've taken a 30 minute break got some food and did some things i love (decompressed by tactile stimming with some owl plushies and watched some videos on my favorite owl, Garu. He lives in Japan with his owner and is a domesticated eagle owl who basically just acts like a sky cat. If anyone else needs some eye bleach, here is their YouTube channel)
Blinky and ARRRGHHH!!! saying their "if one of us doesn't make it" talk my god one of them is going to die I can see it and I will be utterly crushed. Jim can't lose another father figure and Toby can't lose his wingman again I will riot if this happens
On a similar but unrelated to the movie note, can we just talk about how toa started with Jim having 0 dads and (if strickler and blinky live to the end) will end with 2 dads? Like I just really feel happy for him that he has two dads who actually figured out how to put the past behind them to not have any infighting between them so that both of them are healthy father figures. Jim has already been through literal hell and back losing his actual humanity in the process so if he loses one of them, I'm going to be really pissed because at this point, this is just Jim torture porn. Y'all know how as SpongeBob SquarePants went on, the show just became Squidward torture porn? It's starting to feel that way for toa and I really hope they cut the shit by the ending
Jlaire is such a good ship but like I feel like it's too perfect they never disagree with each other
YESSSSSSS Someone finally doesn't treat toby like a fat waste of space who messes stuff up!!! I think out of all the characters that would have been most deserving of a rewrite, it's Toby. Sometimes I just feel he's only comic relief and any heartfelt moments he's had in the series was also born of stupidity (ie his flour baby project being unharmed was seen by him as divine intervention from his parents but was actually just Eli and Steve behind the scenes).
Ohhhhh yesssssss Archie's father!!! I was hoping I'd see him again because we got so little of him last
Ooooooooooh Asian trollmarket!!!!!
Oh never mind slavery trollmarket
Bruh titanic camelot
I feel like we're not seeing enough of the villains because I completely forgot about the power ranger zord things
NAMORA NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MY LAST CRUSHHHH
STRICKLER NO NOT YOU TOO PLEASE
WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THE ONLY TWO CHARACTERS I SIMP FOR ON THIS SHOW DIED WITHIN FIVE MINUTES OF EACH OTHER
THAT WHOLE ASS RANT I WROTE IS COMING TRUE FUCK THIS MOVIE THIS SERIES IS JUST JIM TORTURE PORN
WAIT JIM'S SPERM DONOR INFO?
Oh thank God I don't want to know anything about that person
For the record, I call that man Jim's sperm donor because he has no business being called a father to him. All he did was donate some swimmers to the creation of him and give him abandonment issues
Oh another blind troll elder???? This fucker is just if vendel was a bad guy
Bruh I was grieving
PACIFIC RIM WITH GUN ROBOT VEX AND THE BELROCZORD? I've never seen that movie but I know the reference
Bruh Blinky doesn't read horoscopes? Does he realize conspiracy theories are just the manly version of horoscopes?
NO DON'T KILL VEX STOP KO-ING FOUND FAMILY MEMBERS
Oh thank God he's okay
NO NOT ARCHIE AND CHARLEMAGNE OH MY GOD
oh never mind they're just gonna coup de tat I believe in them :))
But I want to see him again
But I'm glad to see vex
Yay they're in arcadia!
But yeah I wondered why the trolls and Merlin didn't keep the whole "daylight doesn't hurt trolls" feature from the eternal night but now Guillermo del Toro I see you were playing the long con in that just to kill my girl Namora :(((
Oooooh I love the animation of the Narizord over Chihuahua!! It looks very good and realistic (if only they could have put some of that into those huskies from before smh)
Bruh the character designs of the arcane order are so good I want to be them
Nari making sure the Skraelzord doesn't crush the bus
DAMN DOUBLE HOMICIDE
Bruh I'm just glad we finally have an answer on why arcadia had everything going on as opposed to literally anywhere else!! I always found that as a weird coincidence for plot convince.
BRUH WERE BACK TO THE MPREG IM SO JEALOUS I FORGOT ABOUT THAT EVEN THOUGH IT WAS BECAUSE I WAS GRIEVING THE LOSS OF MY LOVELIES.
Oh that's real convenient that the ninth configuration meant all of them. Way to not decide which character gets more attention. Though it probably was a smart way to not have any infighting in the fandom between each character's stan group.
Bruh I just realized where is Barbera did they just ditch her on the Camelot ship???
And where are the other trolls that migrated at the end of trollhunters s3? They said something about new jersey but obviously Jim and the other main characters got on Camelot instead.... This feels like a plot hole
And we never learned the process of how changelings are made and bonded to humans and stuff. We just know it's super painful but I'm curious ffs!!!!
THE DONT THINK BECOME HERO SPEECH ALL SAID TOGETHER!!!
BRUH THEY REALLY HAD TO SHOW HIM GIVING BIRTH??????? WAS THAT AN ABSOLUTE MUST??????
Plus the main audience for this series is little children (the rating for the movie is literally TV-Y7) so even though my adult ass is not in the target audience, I STILL DONT UNDERSTAND WHY WOULD MPREG AND ANAL BIRTH WOULD BE AN IMPORTANT THING TO 7 YEAR OLDS???? THIS IS A LITERAL FETISH HIDDEN IN KIDS CONTENT ITS ELSAGATE ALL OVER AGAIN Y'ALL 😭😭😭😭😭
Though it's probably hypocritical of me to think fetishes don't belong in kids tv when I've openly admitted to thirsting for strickler and namora
HUZZAH
NEW AMULET WAZ GOOD????
STAB THAT BITCH JIM
WAIT NO I SAID STAB NOT GET STABBED
Alright good job just missed the directions at first but you fixed it
SEVEN KIDS?????????
T O B Y ????????????
W A I T NO
N O
IS HE ACTUALLY
OH MY GOD THERE'S HOPE
NO THERE ISN'T
F U C K THIS SHIT THEY REALLY JUST HAD HIM TO BE BULLIED THEN KILLED
Y'ALL IM ACTUALLY CRYING THIS NEVER HAPPENS
I NEVER ACTUALLY GET SO EMOTIONAL OVER MEDIA THAT I CRY IT ONLY HAPPENED ONCE AT THE END OF VOLTRON BUT AHHHHHHHH
W A I T
HE'S GONNA BE BROUGHT BACK?????
HOLD UP THEY'RE JUST GONNA BRING ALL THOSE DEAD PEOPLE BACK??????
WAIT IS HE
BLINKY CALLED HIM A SON
HOLD ON IS THIS GOING TO BE A CLIFFHANGER???????????
BRUH THEY REALLY JUST CAN'T END THE SERIES WITHOUT CLIFFHANGERS like there's always an open ending
TROLLHUNTER TOBY????? You know what forget the whole rants I had on how toby was written they just redeemed it all
And that's all! I'd rate it a 6.5/10 because it's definitely the weakest of all the sequels but still had amazing animation and some good plot points. It's just really hard to look over the bad stuff enough to rate it any higher.
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