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embossross · 9 months

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From His Mind to Hers

chapter 11 >> Chapter 12 >> masterlist

✣ Pairing: Hanma x AFAB fem!Reader

✣ Warning: 18+, minors DNI; unhealthy relationships & dark content

✣ Chapter CW: violence, discussions of torture, drugs, hanma fantasizes about anal play and ptv sex

✣ Story CWs: patient/doctor relationships; smut (oral, ptv, pta, etc.), degradation, stalking, torture (not of y/n), murder, discussions of trauma and abuse, drug use, and more

✣ Synopsis: Forced into therapy, Hanma expects to waste his time and yours, but you’re not about to let the chance of a high-profile and higher paying patient slip through your grasp. The fact that you’re both attracted to each other doesn’t hurt either.

✣ Word Count: 6k+

Hanma regrets not doing one last line to see him through tonight’s meetings. His jaw aches like the soreness of a two-day old punch, and he keeps his hands plunged into his suit pockets to cover their trembling. A little hair of the dog to ease the worst of the symptoms is just what the doctor ordered, but the nagging voice of reason in his head – an unholy blend of your voice and Kisaki’s – tells him to sober up and stay sharp.

Days of the job running him ragged have taken their toll. An hour of sleep here or there between assignments, a fitful doze in the backseat between locations, and the fortifying effects of cocaine are all that sustain him.

It will soon be well worth it. The usual irritability that comes with a cocaine hangover is nothing compared to the thrill of imagining all the delicious possibilities that await him when he confronts the Immortal Mikey.

Is it a matter of weeks or only days until their showdown? He wants Mikey to fight with the ferocity of a blood feud, but what if Mikey refuses to fight him to the death? To bring out the darkness in Mikey, Hanma can always taunt the memory of his dead siblings, maybe lay the blame for their deaths at his feet. Hanma has spent years training with fighters specializing in Muay Thai and Taekwondo in the hopes of someday facing one of Mikey’s bestial kicks. Just imagining the difference in power behind Mikey’s strikes and his usual opponents’ makes Hanma salivate. To prolong the fight, he’ll need to move strategically. Relying on his height advantage would be a mistake as Mikey can leap to nearly Hanma’s full height, so Hanma will need to hunker down to protect his core. He should get as close as possible, limit the force Mikey can draw behind each kick, deliver short, devastating punches to the organs, maybe get a grip on one of his legs to throw him off balance. Like predicting an opponent’s moves in a game of chess, Hanma wonders how Mikey will counter if Hanma pins him flat in the dirt. He’ll probably never get the chance to find out. A single direct kick from Mikey will rattle his brains. It will take superhuman powers of concentration to not lose consciousness then, to fight until the bitter end, until sweet, sweet nothing…

Rapturous, as he imagines Mikey’s potential countermoves, Hanma smiles with all his teeth at nothing.

Around him, Toman’s top brass gather around a coffee table in Kisaki’s suite on the penultimate floor of the Ritz-Carlton, waiting for tomorrow’s negotiations to begin. The atmosphere is tense. Writers would describe said tension as thick; a description Hanma finds appropriate. He likens the energy in the room to sucking in a great lungful of car exhaust and then holding it there, letting the smoke stir up the lungs and burn the eyes as you fight back the urge to choke, cough, sputter.

On the floor above, where the HKJ executives strategize and, on the floors below, where their entourages gather to get a few hours of shut eye before tomorrow’s activities begin, Hanma imagines the mood is equally warped.

Kisaki’s suite brims with the stale smell of smoke as the room’s occupants light up cigarette after cigarette before the last even has a chance to burn out. The cherries flare bright and then fade like dying stars amid the flick of titanium lighters. It is ritual, comforting, unifying. There are billions of yen at stake tomorrow. It’s the kind of money lesser men kill for, and they have done far worse than kill for a fraction of this prize.

Each man’s nerves manifest differently. From where he stands guarding the door, Hakkai switches compulsively between his cigarette and a toothpick before giving up and shoving both into his mouth on either side like a pair of mismatched fangs. Mucho fingers the knives at his side while glaring into the eyes of anyone who glances his way as if daring them to make a wrong move, reserving the worst of his ire for Smiley, newly back into the fold after his long exile – Hanma can’t guess what Kisaki was thinking allowing that – and grinning, unperturbed from his seat by the window. Kokonoi looks highly medicated where he sits on the loveseat, fidgeting with his rings and only settling when Inui places a centering hand on his shoulder.

As for Kisaki, well that is the strangest thing. Apart from a manic gleam reflecting off his glasses, Kisaki sits like an iron pillar, steady and supportive.

It is out of character. He should be pacing, glaring through his phone, like he can see beyond the screen into the heart of the device, barking at them all for breathing too loudly. The details of this deal have been meticulously ironed out over the course of months. There will be ceremonies, demonstrative displays of respect, staged misunderstandings, and finally resolution. It’s not unlike taking your school exams when you’ve already studied with the answer key. All that is needed is to show up and not tip your hand. Still, Kisaki should be nervous.

Someone knocks on the door, and for one brief moment, they all forget how to breathe.

The only men with access to the penultimate floor of the hotel tonight are already gathered here. Whoever dares knock on their door has made a fatal mistake. Yet to Hanma’s surprise, when Hakkai sees the visitor through the peephole, he nods knowingly to Kisaki, who returns the gesture, and then Hakkai opens the door.

Neither man reacts when the opening door reveals Haitani Ran, dressed in pinstripes and looking like a fucking pencil case. Hanma leaps to his feet, already fidgety hands reaching for his gun, but Kisaki nods the man inside, and Haitani closes the door behind himself. It clicks shut decisively.

“Glad to see you’ve made it, Haitani,” Kisaki greets him.

As usual, the sight of the man who has plagued his mind these last several months triggers a restless agitation in Hanma. The feeling has become a familiar one, a mix of the desire for a vicious fight that rises up whenever he sights an enemy with even halfway decent martial arts skills mixed with the enraging certainty that Haitani would see him die of something mundane like hypertension behind bars. There is no room for reactionary thinking tonight, not when his epic battle with Mikey is on the line, so Hanma swallows his impulse to attack, limits himself to a frown when Haitani waltzes right inside to stand opposite Kisaki and to Hanma’s left.

Hanma looks to Kisaki for instruction on how to react. He knows Kisaki better than anyone else living or dead. So, he knows that the grin that spreads across Kisaki’s weather-worn face signals nothing less than complete victory. Kisaki always avoids the spotlight when plotting something, sticking to the shadows, sacrificing a stooge or two, playing the double agent. If he chooses to center himself now, it signals something huge.

Kisaki begins, “Now that Haitani’s finally here, I will tell you a story. Certainly, you’ll have heard it before, the Kachi-kachi Yama, but listen carefully, and I think you’ll find much that’s applicable to what’s happened here this last year. Once there was a troublesome tanuki, who plagued a farmer’s fields. Perhaps the farmer could have lived alongside it in peace, but the tanuki was spiteful and cunning, and the farmer knew someday the tanuki would destroy the bountiful fields that he’d dedicated his life to cultivating. So, the farmer captured the tanuki, tying it to a tree and continuing about his business. He figured he could return later and kill the tanuki for his supper. That was my first mistake, I’ll admit. I am that farmer, confident that the tanuki would remain in my trap until I saw fit to gut it. Because instead of making his peace with the gods or thanking the farmer for this stay of execution, the tanuki grew rabid and vengeful. He called out to the farmer’s wife, begging to be freed. I forget that our greatest threat is not always the malice of our enemies but the stupidity of those unworthy men we call allies. The wife, a simpleton, released the tanuki, who, in thanks for her idiocy, promptly killed her. Then, he shapeshifted into her likeness and cooked the farmer a dinner of soup made from his wife’s flesh. The unsuspecting farmer shared his table with the enemy, none the wiser. Until, of course, the tanuki revealed itself and its treachery. It might have escaped justice if not for a rabbit who offered his help to the farmer, and hunted the tanuki down, and well, you know the rest. The rabbit is Haitani-san. I am the farmer. But who is the treacherous, shape-shifting tanuki?”

Theatrically, Kisaki pitches his voice down and makes heavy eye contact with each man in the room. Hanma’s brain races as he decides which man to bury beneath the weight of his suspicions, which man is marked to die. Because, though inscrutable in classic Kisaki-style, the story tells him there is a traitor in their midst, likely in this very room, and Hanma must be ready. His trigger finger itches.

“Quite the mystery…Our best clue came with the hack of Kokonoi’s computer. After all, only executives are allowed entry to that floor of the building, and despite Muto’s best efforts to compel one of the guards to snitch – and let me assure you, those efforts were remarkable in their brutality – each guard swore he didn’t let anyone else in. So, where was our clever tanuki? Hiding in plain sight?”

Kisaki nearly whispers those last words, so they all have to lean closer to hear. A rapt audience, everything Kisaki ever desired.

“The timing with the HKJ deal was suspicious, too. Someone was taking advantage of our vulnerability around the deal. I suspected Haitani, there’s no denying it, but three nights ago, he called and gifted me some critical information. Perhaps, like the simpleton wife in the story, none of our guards betrayed us. Maybe they followed orders to the letter and only let executives in.”

Everything happens very fast then.

There is rapid movement in his peripheral vision, coming from the right where Kisaki sits with the wall of windows to his back, and in the split second it takes for Hanma to draw his gun, Haitani throws a projectile past his head. Hanma knew not to trust that fucker.

A silenced gunshot shatters any remaining illusion of civility. The bullet goes wide, missing Kisaki, its intended target, by a hair’s breadth and exploding a vase.

Standing with a gun clenched in his fist, Smiley takes aim a second time.

Mucho vaults the couch, meaty fists reaching Smiley before he’s even fully cleared the obstacle. The contact throws them both off balance, and the gun falls harmlessly to the floor, where Koko is quick to pocket it. They land on the ground with a boom that rocks the furniture.

One moment Mucho is on top, and then, they roll, Smiley taking the dominant position, and then repeat. Every gun in the room trains on the wrestling duo, but there is no clean shot around Mucho’s bulk. The knives at Mucho’s waist could end the fight, but no one wants to paint the hotel with DNA, so Mucho relies on his fists, like they did in the old days, two captains of Toman, two once friends.

When Smiley’s face briefly comes into view, Hanma sees there are shreds of glass embedded there, and the meaning behind the mysterious projectile clicks into place. In the split second before Smiley could fire his gun, Haitani thew a crystal ashtray at Smiley’s head. His quick thinking saved Kisaki’s life.

As Mucho and Smiley grapple on the floor, strained grunts interrupted only occasionally by a howl of pain, they bite, aim for the groin, the eyes, anything to gain the advantage. With Mucho clocking in at easily twice Smiley’s weight, you’d think the fight would be over in a flash, but Smiley fights back with the fury of a decade fueling him. Gone are the old days when Smiley would trade blows with a carefree grin on his face, eyes screwed closed like he couldn’t be bothered to take his opponent seriously. This is life and death for him, and he knows it.

Hanma’s bloodlust sings out for him to join the fray, to test himself against the once fearsome Smiley, but there is no room between those flailing bodies, and despite Smiley’s best efforts, the fight does, inevitably, come to an end.

Delivering a winding knee to Smiley’s gut, Mucho leverages himself onto his knees, where he can wrap his arm, like an iron bar, around the other man’s throat. Both men turn bright red, one fighting to keep the chokehold and the other to break it. Staring down the barrel of his gun, Hanma watches as the power drains from Smiley’s eyes measure by measure, legs kicking helplessly before he goes limps. Inupi darts forward once he does, zip ties at the ready to restrain him. In a matter of minutes, it is over.

Typically, Hanma is the fastest to react when a threat looms but this time he was out maneuvered by Haitani and Mucho both, the way they both lunged for Smiley without a moment to take stock, like they knew who and what to suspect.

Hanma seethes.

“I think we found our tanuki,” Kisaki chuckles, signaling the second half of the night’s show, the part where he boasts in the face of his enemies. He doesn’t even turn his neck to look at Smiley, trussed up and submissive on his knees, instead addressing the group of them, “Of course, after the security breach, we fired or reassigned all of Kokonoi’s guards, which put several of them on the market. It’s only natural that several sought out Haitani’s security firm. Generously, Haitani questioned each before agreeing to hire them, asking whether they had allowed Smiley into the office, and one of them confirmed.”

“How’d he figure to ask? And while we’re at it, didn’t Smiley just get back into town when we discovered the hack? The malware was in place for months. And you had him exiled in Singapore,” Inupi asks, the first to reholster his gun and settle in for Kisaki’s victory lap.

“Ah yes, that’s why I never suspected him. I mean, Hanma had the flight logs for all international travel in and out of Tokyo-Narita. How could he have missed something so obvious?”

“He didn’t fly in or out in the last year. I checked,” Hanma snaps.

“Yes, but you’re forgetting a tanuki can shapeshift,” Haitani chimes in helpfully.

In retrospect, it’s fortunate Hanma didn’t take that last bump of cocaine because if he were high right now, he would probably throttle Haitani without any care for discretion, and then, it would be goodbye Mikey and any chance at a glorious death at their absentee leader’s hands. Instead, Hanma tries to remember all the bullshit you’ve drilled into him about mindfulness. As the hostile thoughts drift by his mind, he tries to “catch and release” them into the ether. Yes, he wants to see Haitani’s dye job ruined by congealed brown blood chunking in his hairline. He can acknowledge this desire, and then redirect his thoughts. Following your instructions, he empties his mind, pictures that pretty little plug glinting from between the cheeks of your spread ass, pictures slipping his tongue past the ring of your asshole, imagines cresting a wave twice his height and then plowing your ass on the sand afterwards.

He is surprised to discover it helps.

He doesn’t lunge for Haitani. He breathes.

“Yes, our shapeshifting tanuki,” Kisaki continues in the meantime, nodding approvingly at Haitani. “You see, Haitani learned we were looking into the flight logs and decided to do his own digging. What he found painted a clear picture. According to the logs on January third, Kawata Souya flew out of Tokyo to Singapore. He stayed for only three days before flying to Copenhagen, where he stayed for less than twelve hours before flying back to Tokyo. There, he remained forty-eight hours before flying back to Singapore. This time, he stayed less than eight hours before flying back to Tokyo. Now, what does all this spontaneous travel tell you?”

Kokonoi groans, “Fuck, they swapped places. Angry flew to Singapore, then gave his passport to Smiley. From there, he went to Copenhagen to put some distance between the flight paths so it would be less obvious. The newer guards who didn’t know Smiley was exiled probably waved him right into my office, and then he flew back to Singapore to trade places with Angry once again.”

“My mistake as the farmer was to let the rodent live long enough to become a problem,” Kisaki admits generously.

Throughout all of this, Smiley hangs limp in Mucho’s meaty arms. One wraps around Smiley’s neck, restricting his breathing, and the other pins his ziptied arms to his sides. There is disgust in Smiley’s eyes as they discuss him, but they spark to an incandescent rage when they mention his brother. They are not the eyes of a defeated man.

“So what happens now?” Smiley croaks, voice a scratch from what is surely a bruised voice box.

Kisaki bothers to turn and acknowledge Smiley for the first time. “You must know we kill you now.”

“What you’re gonna blow my brains out in the penthouse of the Ritz? Gonna drag my body through the elevator down four dozen floors? And then out through the front door for the whole world to see? Not even you have the clout to pull that off. And I’m not gonna make it easy for you to drag me out of here to my execution. I’ll fight you every step, scream and shout so loud the police will be down on your heads. Not just your heads either. The HKJ’s too. How do you think that’ll go over?” Smiley sneers, that can’t-be-bothered grin that always masked his emotions returning in a blast from the past that for one moment throws Hanma back a decade to what he always considers the best years of his life.

Smiley timed this well, Hanma admits. Given enough space, he might chop Smiley’s body into a dozen pieces and cart them out one-by-one, but disposing of a body that way is too messy. For the first time, Kisaki’s aura of well-earned triumph dims as Smiley backs them into a corner.

A tanuki is too flattering a comparison. Smiley better resembles a scheming, smiling rat.

“If I may interrupt, Kisaki-san. I have a solution,” Ran pipes up, solicitous, falsely humble.

“I’m all ears.”

“I hope you can forgive me, but I took it upon myself to prepare for the worst-case scenario before today. Right now, my brother is waiting in one of our safehouses with a few of our most trusted men and Kawata Souya. He picked him up earlier this evening.”

Hanma has seen men confront their worst fears too many times to count. Many buckle, going semi-comatose under the weight of it. Others bargain, plead, pray to gods that never cared at all. His favorites fight with everything they have, like they might bend the heavens to their will. Smiley, of course, lands in the latter category.

He howls and jabs both of his elbows into Mucho’s gut, straining forward like he might reach his brother. To keep him in place, Mucho picks him clean off the floor with an arm around his neck, cutting oxygen off until he realizes the futility of it all. It takes minutes for Smiley to accept the situation, and even then, his eyes roll like a feral animal biding its time before escaping its cage.

Kisaki beams. “Excellent thinking, Haitani.”

“I know what a man would do for his younger brother,” Haitani demurs. Watching him play the sycophant turns Hanma’s stomach, but Kisaki eats the performance up with relish.

“Well, either way, it was good thinking,” Kisaki says approvingly, and then to Smiley, “Returning to your earlier question, what happens now is you walk out of here of your own volition, and you don’t so much as signal with your fucking eyes that you’re in trouble or your baby brother dies. Slowly.”

“You’re going to kill him either way,” Smiley whispers.

Head hung low, all Hanma can see of Smiley is the mess of saffron curls. The tiniest sliver of pale white scalp peaks through. Had he remained quiet and reintegrated into Toman, or parted ways entirely, Smiley’s life would likely have still ended on the wrong side of a smoking gun. Kisaki had proven methodical in eliminating all the original leaders of Toman, but somehow the Kawata brothers had survived this long. Maybe if Smiley grinned and bore the death and imprisonment of all his friends, the same way he could smile through so much, he and his brother would have made it to thirty. Who knows?

“Your brother will survive the night and walk away from this. You have my word,” Haitani says. It is a pardon he has no authority to grant yet the quiet sincerity in his tone compels them all to keep their silence. Even Kisaki does not object.

The odds of either brother surviving the night are abysmal. And yet, the shadow of Haitani’s fraternal mercy is Smiley’s best and only hope, so he nods his acquiescence.

Hakkai, Mucho, and Inui all escort Smiley to the elevators. They take no chances at his escape. He will be tortured for information, broken until he relinquishes his accomplices and all the intel he stole from Toman, and then, finally, buried under wet concrete.

The last man standing from Toman’s old order is condemned to death. It is the end of an era.

Thirty-six hours later, the deal is done.

A breeze cools the nape of his neck where a day’s worth of sweat has collected as Hanma steps through the revolving doors and into the world for the first time in what feels like an age.

Negotiations wrapped hours ago after endless rounds of bowing that left his lower back aching and some last-minute concessions – new negotiations around when in the supply chain possession of the drugs and, therefore liability, would pass hands, a few negotiated favors leveraging the HKJ’s contacts in the CCP– so that both sides could walk away satisfied. Long after the HKJ returned to their separate floor, Kisaki kept the leaders of Toman behind to indulge in many long-winded speeches that celebrated his own genius as well as some generously poured champagne. The festive mood infected even Hanma, and he frankly didn’t give a shit about the deal one way or another beyond his promised reward of Mikey.

Still, as much as Hanma can appreciate a delicious power play or a barbed bit of double-speak, both of which were amply supplied during the negotiations, he is ultimately a man of the physical world, meant to touch, taste, fuck. He needed to get the hell out of there.

Smiling to himself at how scandalized you look whenever he mentions mixing drugs with his medications, Hanma does a celebratory bump right there in the street. The welcome headrush brings new reserves of energy, and Hanma thinks to himself that he should swing by your apartment later to keep the good times going.

He won’t admit as much out loud, but, in truth, your mindfulness techniques were a lifesaver during negotiations. The HKJ thugs there as security were delectable. A hearty temptation, all corded muscle, cauliflower ear, and thrice-broken noses. The self-sabotaging impulse to pick a fight to test their skill would beckon, but with one eye turned mindfully inward, Hanma could recognize the impulse for what it was and turn instead to one of two delicious fantasies to distract him.

In the first, he is pinned down by the weight of Mikey’s slight body, accepting punch after brutal punch to the face, the copper tang of blood hot on his tongue. In the second, your fingers curl in the sheets of your bed – the very bed you’ve guarded from him out of some bourgeois loyalty to your boyfriend – as you throw it back on his dick, doing all the work, so he can watch the jiggle of your ass each time you slam yourself balls deep. Whichever fantasy he chose, the effect was always the same: hard cock, deep breaths, and the stress of boredom dripping harmlessly from his distracted brain.

You deserve a special reward as thanks…

As he waits on the otherwise empty street for one of Toman’s lackeys to swing his Bentley around from where it’s been parked in a garage downtown, Hanma hears footsteps, the tap of Italian loafers behind him and knows it’s Haitani before he even turns.

“Tonight went well. Some congratulations are in order,” Haitani says.

Hanma grunts, briefly wonders if he can antagonize Haitani into squaring up, and then, discards the idea. No matter how much he pokes and prods, Haitani won’t play with him. A shame as Haitani would make a solid opponent excepting his character. The fundamental difference between the two men has always been that where Hanma craves the violence, Haitani wields it as a tool in the pursuit of what he really longs for, the trappings of their lifestyle: the money, the prestige, the power. Haitani will never consent to a fight without running through a league of calculations, and even then, he’s more likely to backstab Hanma at the last second.

“I was impressed by your team’s due diligence. I don’t think you could have brokered a better deal,” Haitani says.

“Yeah yeah, Kokonoi’s a genius or whatever,” Hanma agrees tonelessly.

“Kisaki-san as well.”

More of the same. Once negotiations wrapped, Haitani clung to Kisaki’s side, playing the supplicant and making sure his glass never emptied. Watching the two men bowed together, Kisaki eating up Haitani’s deference, irritated Hanma. One might expect that cleared of all wrongdoing against Toman, Hanma might forgive and forget, but truthfully, he never cared one way or another about Haitani’s treachery.

He just doesn’t like the slick fuck.

Never did.

An acrid aftertaste from the cocaine drizzles down the back of his throat, coating his words and mind in a kind of chemical haze. There is no sign of his Bentley. Whichever grunt was tasked with picking it up is in for an earful for keeping him waiting.

“I’m grateful that I learned of the HKJ deal when I did. I’ve been looking for the opportunity to do Toman a service for years. There have been favors here or there, of course, but something substantial like this is rare. Kisaki-san is so grateful for my help. In fact, Hanma, why don’t you ask me just how grateful Kisaki-san is for my help?”

The open insinuation in his voice is enough to pique Hanma’s interest, turning around to face the other man before he can think better of it. Haitani isn’t gloating any more than he does on an average day, walking around like a god among men, but Hanma knows this is yet another victory speech. He spits a gob of saliva right at his feet.

“With you-know-who out, there’s a new opening at the top, and Kisaki-san’s asked me to fill it,” Haitani purrs.

Hanma clenches his teeth.

The Haitanis’ security business will be an asset for Toman, bringing in new resources and intel on a high-status client list. Both brothers will fit into the more polished, clinical Toman that Kisaki has nurtured, one where money wins out over brotherhood. It is a natural choice, and no one will deny that Haitani earned this.

A ghost of a smile taunts Hanma, like Haitani is just waiting for him to explode, and for the first time, Hanma is sure that the enmity between them is mutual. Maybe Haitani considers Toman neither enemy nor prey, but there is malice there towards Hanma. Haitani must know and enjoy how seeing him every day, forced to play nice, will sting for Hanma like a fresh cut each time. It is with the sadistic glee of a mad scientist, playing out his twisted experiments and documenting his subjects’ reactions, that Haitani watches him now.

In this, however, the two men can be dreadfully similar. Hanma won’t grant him the satisfaction of a reaction, schools his already blank expression and waits for the next move.

“It’s a day for gratitude all around, really, which is why I wanted to thank you. I never would have known about the HKJ deal without your help. So, thank you, Hanma.”

“What are you on about?” Hanma grits out.

“Well, really, I owe it all to your girl – you know, that tight-ass doctor you’ve been hanging around – but if you hadn’t told her in the first place, she never could have clued me in. And then, where would I be? Watching from the sidelines? So, I figure I owe you a thank you as well.”

A zip of adrenaline lights up Hanma’s synapses, the effect stronger than a bump of cocaine. It feels like his very pores have been blown wide open. He smells the musk of Haitani’s cologne. The wind alights on his skin like a lash. Sensitive to the world, he notices everything. He is wide the fuck awake.

You told Haitani about the HKJ deal.

He knows this in the way you recognize a path once taken while drunk. Returning in the bright, sobering light of day, the road appears unfamiliar at first, but then as you retread those previously taken steps, your feet know to avoid the potholes and loose tiles, which turns to take and those to avoid, like unlocking a hidden piece of knowledge or a muscle memory. Hanma recognizes your betrayal for what it is immediately, perhaps always knew deep down.

Why stop at the HKJ deal? You probably told Haitani everything Hanma ever shared with you. What did he leak during cozy pillow talk, enjoying how the details of his job could impress or frighten you in equal measure?

Come to think of it…how did Haitani know he was investigating the flights out of Tokyo-Narita in the first place? Maybe three or four weeks ago, you mentioned that you’d never traveled abroad. The conversation tilted, as it so often did with the two of you, and he ended up telling you that he was monitoring international flights, making you one of only five people in the world who knew about it: that shit for brains who worked for the airport, Tanigawa, Kisaki, Hakkai, Hanma, and…you. And now that he really thinks about it, didn’t you ask quite a few questions about Haitani, pushed where you would normally let the conversation flow naturally, like you needed the answers?

Months of banter, games, and, Hanma will admit it, intimacy between you shatters as Hanma recategorizes everything you are to him, dragging you from the special position he created just for you in his brain – something of a coveted and cosseted pet and trusted advisor in turns – into the one he reserves for all of Toman’s adversaries. It is not a classification you will enjoy, not when you’ve made a fool of him and all the violence that inevitably entails.

Much louder, brimming below these thoughts, Hanma’s mind cascades through a montage of impressions, too chaotic to capture in words or phrases, something pre-language and true. These insubstantial impressions roar, pounce, spear, inflame, attack. They sabotage his every attempt to think through his next actions, to plan or reason. All is made impossible against the backdrop of his disordered inner mindscape.

Adding Haitani’s voice to the mix only makes the noise worse.

“I was surprised you’d see a shrink. Oh! But don’t worry, I’ll keep that between the two of us. I’m sure you have your reasons, and it would do you no favors if all the men found out. And, she is cute enough. I’ll admit, I started to see the appeal around the third time I met her. I won’t pretend she’s my type, but I saw a glimmer of something then. A little fear maybe behind the dead eyes? I could see you liking that sort of thing, though as your therapist, she probably shouldn’t indulge your sexual sadism,” Ran muses. “Regardless, you’ve kept her around so long though, it makes me want to find out her appeal for myself, and after putting up with you for so long, the woman certainly deserves to be shown a good time…”

A hand decked in rings on your thigh, dimpling the flesh. Wet lips mouthing along the curve of your jaw until they reach the special spot to the left of your chin, the one that makes you shake. Eyes brimming with tears while you take a cock too big for your unstretched hole.

Fleeting impressions. Imaginings. He is not the man in any of them.

Haitani is really starting to piss him off.

“You gonna sing like this if the cops ever bust you?” Hanma snaps. “Oh, Officer, let me tell you every detail of my master plan, let me give you a list of names. Or, you just scared as shit of me?”

“Can’t I want to do a favor to my new brother?”

“You’re acting like you want me to break those shiny new veneers of yours. But I don’t know what you actually want.”

As if to show those shiny new teeth off, Haitani smiles. There are no visible stars under the haze of smog, but Roppongi is well-lit even in the depths of the night, and Hanma can make out each gleaming one of them.

“See, I wouldn’t normally share my plans, but I don’t think it matters one way or another with you. You’ll just sit there with a thumb up your ass. So, cards on the table? You can expect a lot more of this. You’re the right-hand off the boss. I want your job. And, I’m gonna get it.”

In the space of a blink, Hanma unholsters his AMT Hardballer and jabs the muzzle into Haitani’s firm stomach. The other man grunts but doesn’t react further. Smart. Because Hanma is tempted to end it all here. His position as Kisaki’s righthand is cemented from a decade of partnership, not the kind of role you resign. Once you climb to the top of the mountain that is Toman, the only way down is a long fall, ending in a broken neck. If Haitani is gunning for his job, he’ll do whatever it takes to see Hanma shot through the back of the head execution style or worse, rotting away in a prison cell.

He won’t go out that way.

He won’t.

He’ll blow a hole clean through Haitani’s stomach first. Gut anyone who ever even thought about helping the bastard.

He’ll kill them all.

“We’re caught on CCTV footage, Hanma. Might want to put that away unless you want a gun charge,” Haitani warns lowly.

They’re directly outside the lobby of Midtown Tower in the center of fucking Roppongi, of course there are cameras capturing them from all angles. No one will check the footage unless he leaves a corpse to clean up.

His trigger finger twitches anyway. It would be so easy to end this all here, fuck the consequences. But then, Hanma remembers Mikey and the brilliant swan song that awaits him when he dies in a blaze of glory. If he murders Haitani here and now, Kisaki will renege on their deal, and Hanma will surely go to prison for at least twenty years. Whereas in the end, it doesn’t matter what Haitani does either way. Hanma will be dead at Mikey’s hands in only a few weeks. Once he’s in the ground, Haitani can have his fucking job.

Hanma starts to laugh, little giggles that escalate into full-blown peals of laughter that shake the gun buried in Haitani’s gut.

“You know what? Do whatever you want, motherfucker! I’m gonna burn either way! Gotta hot date with the devil coming up, ya know? Tell you what, if I somehow survive, beat the devil and live to see another day, that’ll just mean I’m immortal. So, in that case, you’re welcome to try me. Just be sure to make it interesting.”

Haitani looks more alarmed now than when Hanma first drew on him as if reconsidering for the first time that Hanma may be unstable in a way suits like Haitani can never quite figure. It only makes Hanma laugh harder.

Still laughing, Hanma reholsters his gun, thinking his one regret when he dies soon might be that he never got the chance to make Haitani eat a curb.

Knowing that Haitani must have paid off his driver to not show, Hanma turns to walk home on foot. He takes off, right down the middle of the street at a stroll, whistling a happy tune as he goes, knowing Haitani will watch his every step with that same half-frightened look that asks if he has horribly overestimated Hanma’s grip on sanity and whether that will pose a problem down the line. A stranger walking past Hanma then would see nothing but a happy-go-lucky guy, making the most of the what the city has to offer on a late night.

Inside, the tempest of impressions continues, whipping up to a frothing storm of violence and fury. He is going to die at Mikey’s hand, but before that happens, he has some business to take care of.

He walks in the direction of your neighborhood.

A/N: 100 bonus points to whoever can figure out the major clue from chapter 7 that in retrospect hints at Smiley and Angry maybe having switched places.

also, writing this, i kept humming that 'oh no' tiktok sound and 'let the bodies hit the floor.' they seem appropriate...

#hanma shuji #hanma x reader #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #hanma smut #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyo revengers x reader

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sailoms · 7 months

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i have to explain why kanghan kneeling in front of those thugs is a peak life lesson and my new obsession.

(tagging vi @disasterbabygirlnick cus i read your tags and this will explain the birth of the gifset 😔💖)

it wasnt in my agenda to see kanghan kneel, i thought it's just gonna be a father-son feud and other misfortunes. but then he had to, in order to keep the biggest responsibility that every human hates: something that's not theirs, which was the bike. kanghan owed his dad his midterm scores, his main goals.

and then, being a reckless teenager with his narrow vision, he sold that big bike. this was the beginning of two big blows he was about to receive. first, he had to return the bike to his dad which meant coming home and asking for forgiveness and also forgiving his dad deep in his heart.

like, he hated his dad for sure but that he realized that human flawed and alas his dad was also human??? that he had to be the bigger person and understood that his dad's way of loving was providing everything that he wanted, whether he actually liked it or not. there was no proper communication between them as well so, whose fault was this actually?

second, the thug asked him to kneel. read all about kneeling culture in asia, the big idea is it's a gesture to honor the person standing/sitting and/or receiving blessings. in thailand culture (just read this), it's a deep gesture between parents and children. the purpose is same.

now, a thug, who's in kanghan's eyes, didn't behave or lead a life better than him, not even a relative or family member, asked him to kneel. kanghan had to kneel in front of a person so undeserving, so low to save his bike and boyfriend, his two major responsibilities. why would he ask for blessings from a "sinner" or honor a person whose life wasnt better than him??

yet he still did that, realizing that his pride wouldn't save either his boyfriend or his bike. doing nothing wouldn't help much too. it was his fault and he shouldn't call his dad to "save" him again. this moment was really him against the world. notice how his expression changed as he tried to get a grip of himself when he kneeled.

a side note, since im a jjk reader, i learn a bit about buddhism. that in order to achieve enlightenment, one should dispose of his ego. i'd say, this was kanghan's peak enlightenment where he dumped his pride to achieve the level of humbleness, empathy, and humanity that he wished for. as if it's a symbol, that he finally truly lowered himself "closer to the ground" where sailom and his cliques stood in the society.

however if we bring this to irl, in the same situation, this method of enlightenment would be disregarded. most people would rather fight it out rather than opening their heart and owning their mistake then "lower" themselves in front of the party that hurt them. it's entirely about disposing of human's greatest possession that is pride, the need to be at the top of the mountain, food chain, blablabla, in order to truly touch and empathize with the poor and marginalized ones who spend their lives having no privilege to choose (sailom).

i just, i don't think i'd watched a thai bl that portrays,,, character development as detailed and well written as this one and runs with a surprisingly simple idea, responsibility, as its main theme. imo, this is my top 2 after atots.

#.txt #dangerous romance #dangerous romane the series #kind meta??#im sorry its so long but i just UGH #THIS HIT ME RIGHT

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shellthakrit · 4 months

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Might be a dumb question(s), but: how come the doctor can use his powers and seems to recognize phaya? how come phaya and tharn are in the dark about their past lives aside from visions/dreams that pop up randomly?

the doctor clearly locks tharn inside his car when he threatens phaya that he will keep phaya and tharn away from each other at all costs; even if that means killing tharn.

phaya did use his ‘power’ in the last episode, but it was only because he felt strongly about the doctor trying to get between tharn and him.

I’m sure this is explained in the book at some point. I’m assuming some of this has to deal with tharn’s bad karma, but i’m surely wrong.

follow up questions:

are nāgas known to be manipulative?

why does the doctor feel this compulsion to keep tharn and phaya apart?

does the doctor love tharn or is this a he-was-mine-first deal?

is garuda and nāgas known to feud?

I know that Garuda is known to protect people from nāga in a ‘he must protect humankind’ kind of way. There was also somewhere that said Garuda wore nāgas as a necklace (or jewelry of some sort), so I can imagine there’s some kind of animosity there. I just don’t understand the context of it in this story currently.

what is tharn’s historical character? someone mentioned it, but I cannot find it again.

if this follows a thai legend: what is the legend? i don’t currently have time to deep dive on the interwebs

are tharn and phaya’s friends just bystanders as side-plots for the main story?

do they have other significance in phaya and tharn’s past?

i’ve sent you pictures;;; pls respond..

#the sign the series #thoughts

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ranchthoughts · 27 days

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thinking thoughts about Wai, Pa, and the themes of Bad Buddy

I think one of the things that really gets me about waipa is how perfectly it encapsulates the themes of Bad Buddy. I picked a couple of the main ones that stand out to me, because otherwise I would be rambling for far too long:

Photography

In her great meta on photography in Aof shows, @chickenstrangers points out the prevalence of photography/photographers all of Aof's shows and the themes of visibility and invisibility they explore. Characters like Pat and Pran, Pete and Kao, Heart and Li Ming, among others, are seen for who they truly are (and for the love they have for each other) through the lens of a camera wielded by someone they care for and trust.

We see this same theme in Wai and Pa - Wai offers to be Pa's model and she takes photos of him, and Pa sees Wai for who he really is (and Wai doesn't hesitate to show Pa his true self: the soft, smiley side of him). In fact, it's also during the scene where Pa takes Wai's photo that their feelings for each other become visible - they experience each of Pa's Patented Four Ways to tell if someone likes you (see @airenyah's beautiful edit here). Pa and Wai see each other clearly and become aware of their own feelings for the other all through a moment of photography.

Rivalries and Healing

The premise of Bad Buddy rests on the familial feud between Pran's family and Pat's family, which echoes the stories of Romeo and Juliet (from Shakespeare's play Romeo and Juliet) and Kwam and Riam (from the Thai book Plae Kao). Many people have written at length about these stories and how they have been woven into Bad Buddy (see @chickenstrangers excellent meta on tragedies and queer futurities, for example).

We see these same themes of rivalries tearing people apart in Wai and Pa's relationship too. Wai wants to pursue Pa but when he learns she is the little sister of Pat, Wai's enemy, he gives up on his dreams of a relationship with her because he knows Pat will never accept them as a couple. The rivalry between the architecture and the engineering students (which predates Wai and his friends) keeps Wai and Pa apart, just like the long-standing rivalries between Pat and Pran, Romeo and Juliet, and Kwam and Riam's families keep them apart. Wai and Pa's relationship is only possible if their friend groups can heal and move past their destructive rivalry.

Bittersweet Endings

I've written about the bittersweet ending of Bad Buddy (and another Aof show, He's Coming to Me) before. This is another theme Aof likes to explore: endings that are melancholic, that are not neatly solved, that feel more true to life than perhaps an easy happy ending would be. The family feud between Pat and Pran's families is not resolved at the end of Bad Buddy, just as the relationship between Wai and Pa is not resolved either. Some hurts are too large to get over quickly or completely.

Over the course of Bad Buddy, especially after Wai meets Pa in episode 7, Wai works to dispel his animosity with Pat and the others in the engineering squad (e.g., providing the proof that cleared Pat of his gun possession charges, welcoming Pat into the architecture fold, hanging out with Pat and Korn). However, despite all the changes he's made and the growth he has exhibited, by the end of the show Pa doesn't feel ready to accept his change of heart. Wai might have made some atonement for his actions but he was still so antagonistic to Pat and Pat's friends (and honestly, often not a good friend to Pran either, though I don't know how much of that Pa would have known). Pa needs some time to learn to trust the changes he's made, the work he's put in, before her head will let her heart love freely like it wants to.

We don't get the resolution we wanted during the show's run: Wai and Pa are not officially together. Aof is so good at leaning into those bittersweet endings - the family feud between Pat's dad and Pran's mom persists at the end of Bad Buddy though we see some improvements and softening, Wai and Pa are not together at the end of Bad Buddy despite the character development he's had, we don't know how long Med is going to be able to stick around in HCTM, Li Ming, Jim and Jam have made great strides in their relationships but there is still more healing to do, etc. @waitmyturtles writes here about the prevalence of suffering in Asian narratives and cautions against a Western instinct to "close loops" at the end of a show. She argues that Asian filmmakers do not feel the same pressure to resolve "emotionally questionable loose ends," which further reflects and deepens other themes like intergenerational trauma present in shows like Bad Buddy (also explored in this meta by @waitmyturtles). Intergenerational trauma is not quickly and easily solved but continues to resonate and complicate the lives of those coming after, like their parents' feud affects Pat and Pran or the enduring architecture and engineering faculties' feud at their university affects Wai and Pa.

I know Wai and Pa are a side couple and sometimes you don't get resolution with side couples or characters, but the open ended-ness of their relationship felt intentional, like purposefully representation of that recurring Aof and Asian theme of intergenerational trauma, of learning to heal, of the complexities of life.

#waipa #bb #bb meta #only waipa can get me out of my meta slump #april fools

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mdhwrites · 7 months

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Ever think Polly felt like a bit of an afterthought at times in Amphibia? Like among the main cast, she's probably the one who adds the least. Among them, we have Sprig being the younger frog sibling who guides Anne into outgrowing her bad traits and being a better friend, Hop Pop being the well meaning authority figure for Anne in Amphibia, Sasha/Marcy being indications of how toxic things were for Anne before Amphibia and Anne learning to forgive, and Anne's parents show what Anne's life on Earth was like, but what does Polly add to Anne that no one else provides? Heck it's telling how she probably has less episodes that actually make her the main lead than even Sasha (despite appearing more than Sasha). Sure you got Frobo, but I doubt it'd make much a difference if Sprig had been the one to befriend and be close with Frobo in a world where Polly didn't exist considering he has similar reckless younger sibling traits like she does. It's even more obvious in season 3 where after Fixing Frobo, Polly barely does anything on the show with virtually no individual focus after that (Sprig and Hop Pop still got focus episodes in season 3B, while Polly's more or less in the background until All In) until All In and even then, it only really amounts to Frobo helping the group escape from Andrias' castle at the start and that's it. The moment where she helps tame the herons doesn't even hit the same impact it does for Sprig and Hop Pop considering she never quite talked about how the herons affect her. We see Sprig talking about how he misses his parents that he lost to the herons in Hopping Mall (and also likely fuels his behavior in Thai Feud to be seen as family by Anne's mom, and gives a touching moment in Sprig's Birthday) and how the heron attack is why Hop Pop buried the music box and acts overprotective. Polly on the other hand never even thinks or talks about it until All In so she doesn't quite hit the same emotional beats as Sprig and Hop Pop do with the taming herons. Like it makes me think the show probably wouldn't change much if Polly didn't exist or simply just merged her and Sprig instead.

So again: Long and unformatted so I'll sum up the main thesis of the statement: Did Polly need to exist? And does she feel sidelined?

And you know... Not really to the first and a bit to the second but I actually chalk that up more to her archtype/role than I do her being bad conceptually, especially since she's actually a good example of her trope and executed her role well. Polly isn't as important as Hop Pop or Sprig though. Hop Pop isn't even as important as Sprig which is usually why when I mention main character status, I include all three and sometimes mention Sprig alone as a true main character away from the Plantars as a unit.

But none of this is really all that surprising with Polly to me. Comic relief are almost never main characters. They can be main supporting cast like Polly is but- "Weh?"

Oh, hey King, wish I could say it's shocking to see you here. Unfortunately... I almost can't personally talk about this without bringing up King because Polly and him are almost identical at the starts of their shows and how they split off as their series go on are emblematic of the shows themselves. They're both meant to be extremely violent children where their role as comedic relief is derived from how they're so small and yet are either so bloodthirsty or so adult. This isn't a new trope, just like Miss Croaker being a tough, badass granny isn't, and King leans more into the adult side of the trope's humor while Polly leans more into the violent side of it.

Both characters suffer from being a part of this trope though and a main character. There are actually a couple tropes I consider almost taboo for me because of this one effect: The trope IS their character. They spend so much time obsessing over the silly juxtaposition of their nature that they don't really get to escape it. Polly actually doubles down on this with her sudden intelligence which just made her comedy stick out more than anything else to me, even if I'm happy she got to find a more interesting outlet for her desires and violent tendencies as a mechanic. It still feels awkwardly grafted onto the character which can happen a lot when you try to go from using someone as a trope to using them as a character. It's why Polly's best episodes are ones that embrace her tomboy or adventurous nature (including Fixing Frobo) because they keep her in character. In fact, adding super intelligence is just doubling down and being irreverent about the juxtaposition. It's admitting it's a children's comedy so why not go all in?

That's not a position The Owl House can accept though for itself, not when it so badly wants to claim it's not like other kids shows, and this is why in S2, King effectively inverts the balance of his character. He becomes his trope 10% of the time and now daddy issues and a proper child 90% of the time. It causes him to commonly feel out of character with what came before and him gaining wisdom at the end isn't doubling down for comedy like with Polly's intelligence, it's just making the eight year old suddenly a damn near Buddha compared to effectively anyone else in the series. With how little time is spent getting him to that place, it's hard to say it feels earned, especially when his character didn't make the change from S1 to 2 with any real grace honestly.

It's also part of why I like Polly more. Is she fairly one note and could have potentially been cut? Maybe. But at least she's consistent for the most part and while her jokes are a bit cheaper than a lot of jokes in the show, they keep them varied enough to keep them somewhat fresh and know to tuck her away when she's not needed. They also remember her age, like with the herons (since the ask did bring this up) as she wouldn't have the same reaction as Sprig or Hop Pop because she was barely alive at the time. She doesn't remember anything about her parents and so she just accepts Hop Pop as her parent and moves on rather than trying to give her the same angst of a character five years older than her (or however many years older Sprig is). Instead, her angst, the few times she has any, is a lot more about being taken seriously and proving herself which absolutely happens to children as young as her. Not in a supernatural way or the like, not because she sees herself as grown up, but because she's finally starting to figure out the start of her identity and what matters to her beyond play.

Side note: I LIKE that she doesn't angst about her parents. Not only is her being accepting of Hop Pop as her sole parent and okay with that befitting the found family and community themes of the show, it's also nice to adopted kids. Yes, Hop Pop is still blood related but he still didn't have to take her in and is still not her biological parent. He had no obligation and if Polly acted like that mattered, it could have been seen as a kind of middle finger to any adopted kids out there who never knew their parents and don't care either because whoever adopted them IS their parent. Not everyone has to have mommy or daddy issues, let alone if the never knew them and while I think Polly once or twice does admit to wishing she at least knew what they look like, she never acts like her family is lesser without them or that she's lesser for not having known them, something I actually like.

Meanwhile, King is hamstrung by the fact that TOH is a MUCH worse comedy and so the comedic relief is going to suffer from it. He has maybe three jokes repeated ad nauseam throughout the first season and while he gets one episode that's okay dedicated to him, Really Small Problems feels like an entirely different character. Then when he drops the mantle of comic relief, he almost vanishes from the show and his heritage becomes not only his whole character but also the whole point of his character. So he goes from an almost one note comic relief character to a one note side character who's almost more a plot device than a character and the transition isn't exactly graceful, especially since some of the retcons in S2 are just straight up incompatible with parts of S1.

And just while I'm talking about this trope, you do have the middle ground between these two with Spike from My Little Pony where his shtick never gets old, or takes a long time to get really old, and his episodes are definitely extensions of his character... It's just a problem that neither element is written great in the first place. Spike wasn't a terrible character but you NEVER wanted it to be a Spike episode and the more Spike was playing into his jokes instead of being just a helpful friend, the more hit or miss he could be. He never damaged the show by his existence like King but he never added a nice flavor and different angle on characterization like Polly does, all while still being constrained by being the child amongst older characters. I will also admit that Spike arguably doesn't entirely fit into this trope because he actually stays fairly age appropriate when it comes to violence and adventure, not that he couldn't have his moments where he felt a little older than he should have.

So yeah, in conclusion I think Polly could have been way worse and that honestly she's used as much as she needs to be. Do I love her writing? Not really, I don't think Amphibia needed a strictly comic relief character when Wartwood has so many that work for that, but she works well enough and they do still very effectively use her to explore additional family dynamics as she gets at least one episode as granddaughter to Hop Pop, little sister to Sprig and baby sister to Anne. She also is consistent with the sillier tone Amphibia goes for 99% of the time and frankly I love the little gremlin too often to think that she failed in her role.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

And finally a Twitter you can follow too!

#the owl house criticism #amphibia critical #pollywood #polly #king clawthorne

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amphibia-a-day · 1 month

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Day 1030 of Amphibia Screenshots

Episode: Thai Feud

#Amphibia #Thai Feud #Amphibia Thai Feud #Sprig Plantar #Amphibia Screenshots #Amphibia Screenshot

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discluded · 6 months

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On MA and fanservice. Seems like discussion in anglophone spaces misses cultural expectations - many things MA do and say are expected of them as being a cp (even for het cp). Many actors in the thai BL world are very obviously queer - they dont hide, they just dont come out. Unpopular opinion, I honestly do think these couples (when both are queer) are getting together at the same rates as the het cps. Its human nature to like a person who is compatible with you and shares your interests.

[context]

FOR THE RECORD, I think most of his research happened in 2021 or early 2022 so like, MileApo would not be a blip on his radar during the time he would be talking to industry insiders. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Also hilariously just, take his big-headed declarations with a grain of salt. Appreciate it for what it is, but he got into a feud with one of my RL friends about Johnny's fandom a couple of months ago so 🤣 he's very self-important about how he has ~insider access too

Friend, I don't feel comfortable legislating morality. When it's a matter of fandom history / context with multiple perspectives discussed, sure, but in many instances, I don't know you might extrapolate approval or disapproval.

Also, this is not chastisement so don't take it as such, but I want to encourage everyone to be more confident in their own opinions.

If you don't feel it's wrong, like the tone of your message implies, then you don't need my or anyone's approval. And if not seeking validation of your opinions is hard for you sometimes, then practice!

I feel strongly about mentioning this since your message came in the context of me mentioning HP fandom history and toxic fandom participants, and I have no qualms highlighting who some of these people are and what they did when they took advantage of others with their more assertive personalities.

One such individual is thanfict!on (lol don't want them to find me) but this person not only caused drama in HP and other fandoms but also led a cult that eventually led to the deaths of some cult members. (See the fanlore article I linked about them.)

In regards to practicing cult/groupthink protective behaviors, it also help buffer against political propaganda.

But to answer your question: 1) it's not criminal in any way nor is it hurting anyone to believe such a thing and 2) as long as you are aware that an opinion about the people's relationships [general] is irrelevant to how those relationships actually are and don't get angry when there's evidence pointing to otherwise, then it's fine. A . absolutely asinine example of this was I once saw a person said their "opinion" was that Mile was closer to Build than to Apo... *makes Oprah "see" gesture*. Or the toxic solos who keep insisting that Mile and Apo barely tolerate each other, though their narrative is always a mess.

In many cases, we don't know the specifics of people's relationships with each other, and as long as you understand your own opinion has no effect on that actual relationship, there's no problem if you think one way or another. 🤷🏻‍♀️

For the record, I think my opinion is perfectly clear :) I trust y'all ability in reading comprehension. I just don't believe in telling people how to think or guiding them to a conclusion. I have faith in your abilities to do what's right for yourself.

The lovely thing about having differing opinions but civil conversation is that we can still respect each other and disagree! No harm, no foul. Some things set me off more than others, and we all come from contexts in which certain things are more sensitive than others.

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save-the-data · 1 year

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Everything about this scene with the brothers was beautiful to watch. In fact I’m loving this drama cause of these two and their unwavering brotherhood, with ruthless mothers its amazing they turned out with so much love.

#To Sir With Love #LGBTQ+#Romance #Forbidden Love #Historical #Bromance #Family Feud #Thai BL #Asian Drama #Thai #Web Drama #Film Thanapat #Jam Rachata #Tongtong Kitsakorn #คุณชาย

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minalblood · 7 months

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Ep 10... oh boy theres a lot to say with this one.

We begin with a nice twist. The woman needing help is Akrida and the victim is the other woman who's stopped to help. Since I've recently been reminded of it, this set up instantly made me think of Sam.meeting Cole for the 1st time, but in that the one flatlined actually needed help.

The Akrida committed to the acting I see.

God the actresses did such a good job raising the tension

LOVE seeing Millie do more handywork around. We dont have nearly enough of her getting into machinery

Mary and John hating being left to research is funny af to me.

Congrats Mary for getting into college and I like that John is actually happy for her, even ribbing her a bit. Love that dynamic actualy.

"Normal life will have to wait another day" thay cut deep fellas ngl. Mainly because i would argue its exactly what Sam and Dean told themselves to put off actually getting to do anything they wanted. And we have this exact sentiment echoed 5 min later by Carlos for why they need to break up with Anton (cant afford to with the fate of the world on their shoulders). The fact that both of these are accompanied by Dean's monologue about hunting and happy endings? Very very relevant to Dean and the life he led. But more importantly, the "how far will I go to get it" echoes back a few.more things amd makes it almost ominous. We'll come back to this when we meet Mr Sheffield (i dont remmeber the characters name rn, will use it later when they say it) since the dark meaning to Dean's words is highlighted by his story.

This might be the most clear indication of who Carlos was before the Winchesters, the version Samuel was mentioning when talking about them a few ep ago. The lone wolf version, the impulsive one, the not getting close to ppl one. Im very happy they've changed, i think they're happier like this.

Oh noooo, I forgot we have Roxy here 🥲 this'll hurt.

John and Mary see a tea set and alphabetized books out: now thats truly disturbing behaviour

John and Mary any other time: eh, thats normal

I live for the chaotic pair these 2 make together

Why tf does he still have the key if they threw him.out of the MOL? Then again, considering the many issues with the MOL, this is only a mildly annoying thing.

Ah yes, hunters are apes commentary, ffs what even started this bullshit feud between hunters and MOL?? It was there on Samuel's side too, and we even see Henry go with that particular opinion...

Sooo, either Jack was really the one experimenting on monsters or that actually was Hobbes' job, regardless we know what that turned into - not just the various bodyguards that our scooby gang has encoutered thus far, but the more insidious uses too like the monsters Cuthbert Sinclaire reprogramms or the manipulation of Mrs Butters or even Mary's own brainwashing. Safe to say all this send my mind to Naomi and how heaven has a very similar approach to keeping their angels in check. Fitting then that it's the Winchester side of the family that is MOL legacy with the Campbell side being the hunters family qho tends to go for a more straightforward will just eliminate the threat vibe (more hell aligned u could say). "A lobotomy makes most monsters subservient *wink*" he says and I cannot not be filled with revulsion on multiple layers. Including the actual issue with lobotomies generally and how their extended "use" was due to a fraud profitting off of people... yeaaaa all the red flags with Jack/Porter here. But also in general it goes back to the type of MOL we have in SPN, the exact kind that JAck/Porter is are the ones still alive, who have very little actual care of who they harm in their scientific pursuit.

Clear alarm bells sounding when askes about Henry, he has a very clear tell.

Hint hint nudge nudge about Jack/Porters lack of family

You know the thing that actually annoys me about people like Jack/Porter? The fact that if he'd applied his knowledge to actually get ppl depossessed he could've actually done something helpful, that would save ppl, but nope, instead he focused everything into his fixation and inability of letting go. To everyones detriment.

Well, Roxy's motel room reminds me of several times we've seen Dean in similar places... especially after the Mark got bad.

Roxy breaks my heart. Everytime.

And we have another instance of possession being portrayed as the violation it actually is. SPN had a few moments of showing this, most notably with Sam and Lucifer, but we've rarely had such an indepth showing of exactly how someone no longer possessed is coping. The only other ones I can remember clearly delving into are Jeffrey in s7 and Nick in s14, but in both those cases, Jeffrey and Nick were more akin toa depiction of Stockholm Syndrome or at the very least a dependence had been created having been possessed so long. Which is in itself a bit problematic a message to send tbh, but Roxy meanwhile is the opposite. Not only does she not want the Akrida back, she actively is trying to deny it ever having happened initially and she def doesnt want to be reminded of it.

Ironic that it's Carlos who says the forgetting isnt working for Roxy... considering

I also adore the parallel made between Jack/Porter and Lata in this episode? Like they both have that scientific curiosity that can become really dangerous (as seen with Jack) but unlike Jack, Lata actually wants to help people so she uses what she knows (just as much a type of brainwashing technique as Jack/Porters lobotomy fyi) to offer someone help. But! Lata asks for Roxy's consent and is upfront, where Jack/Porter is lying and manipulating and taking foe himself.

Mary's instant red flag reading of Jack/Porter for the win, but she should've listened to her instincts faster. She believes next to nothing of his words. I love her so much.

I love the round table Arkida scene... its so much fun to watch. Ironic that the Akrida call hunters pests... also yay Dean!

The fact that Jack/Porter is so so pissed off is his own downfall tbh. The bitter comments fucked up his facade.

Tonyyyyy yessss. Also Lata and Tony yaaay

I love how absolutely huge gossip queens both Lata and Carlos are.

I also love Carlos' little notepad during the scene with Roxy.

The description of her possession is way to visceral fuck I fogot how hard to watch this was. And how much it echoes to asault. Not even echoes tbh considering we have a clearer scene relating to sexual assault when Jack/Porter tries to have Dorothea possess Mary so thw comparison of possession to assault is very much there this episode.

Wonder if Jack Wilcox defected to the Brits in SPN? And began what would later be Lady Bevell's expertise? The fact that he even put on a British accent def is meant to remind us of Bevell and the Brits.

God Mary and John are obvious af that they suspect shit ... ffs kids!

Carlos continues to be the one that actually uncovers key info.

Aww, Carlos and Lata are so so kind and comforting with Roxy. I love them so much.

Im so proud of Roxy, but what I genuinely love about how the ep was written is that even if she'd have gone along with the erasing of her memory, it still would've been a valid way for her to move on. Like this it obviously works two fold in somewhat convincing Carlos they also should take a leap of faith that alls gonna be well with Anton, but its set up in such a way that regardless of Roxy's choice at the end, Roxy's own wellbeing was all that mattered however that looked. I can appreciate the nareative not ramming a specific interpretation down our throats.

Ah, yes, wartime decisions excusing the means... it nearly never actually applies tho, Jack. Tho I will say it's very satisfying having it be said to John who in SPN would use this exact rethoric for a while slew of shitty choices.

Now I wont get into the whole issue with the golem being used in this ep and specifically how they kill the golem - others have said far more better informed stuff on it (shoutout to @endofthebookpod fantastic episode discussion) and I do have a plethora of issues with it - what I do wanna say on the subject tho is that at leasr insofar as Jack is concerned it makes sense that he'd steal and use a golem for his own benefit (similar to how the nazi did in 8x13). The actual problem with this is how the writers chose to tackle dealing with the golem here. Because ultimately the golem is used as a weapon by Jack, just as all his lobotomised monsters were. But the ep chosing to not clarify a few things and deciding to burn the golem??? Not good fellas, not fucking good at all.

I do appreciate John's resilience in fighting the golem tho.

Like I said, the sexual assault parallel to possession is even more clear when discussion Mary's possession.

Gruesome death for Jack tho, I will say.

"Things we do for love"?!?! John Winchester I will murder you! If Mary doesnt do it first for u even suggesting that. I do apprwciate still seeing glimpses of SPN!John even now, 10 ep into it. Because for all that people can change, its very very hard to do so and its a slow process.

Thank you Mary for shutting it down immediately. High hopes that this low key promise they made here spells good things for their future. I do hope.

I also love that Lata explains why Roxy wanting to erase her traumatic memories isnt the same as Carlos avoiding dealing with his intimacy issues. But I also love that Carlos feels safe actually confiding in Lata, for all that they banter and shit talk they're each others person.

Perfect timing on the Tragic Haircut lady. Also yea, it def is a tragic haircut.

Noooo, Akrida!Kyle is here. Using Johns past against him is smart but also i need to read that file.

I will say, I never read Millie at the end as believing that John did anything like Ive seen in a couple of other places mentioned. I just saw it as her being a. Shocked about a dead body b. Shocked about John holding a dead body and c. The police being on her heels with john holding a dead body.

But that's all for today folks. Next up, ep 11. Slowly but surely making it through the show.

#spnwin #spnwin rewatch #spnwin 1x10 #john winchester #mary campbell #lata dar #carlos cervantez #millie winchester #dean winchester

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