#catching up on critical role while staying at home
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Romantic Killer - Chapter One; Time Flies By (1/2)
Modern Sniper AU! Nakahara chuuya x Sniper Best Friend! gn! reader
Synopsis: You and Chuuya Nakahara are a sniper duo from the Port Mafia, having taken care of each other from as far back as your memory goes. No parents, no family, just each other. Living in an apartment as friends by day, blowing brains out of targets at night. Sure, the money isn’t that good. But it’s not like you can go back, right?
TW: Throughout this fanfic series, there WILL be descriptions of gore/blood, death, brief mention and depiction of starvation (not an ED though), angst, prostitution and stupid people who don’t know romantic love from platonic love. It’s not that bad in the beginning, but I will ramp it up as the series progresses.
A.N: Criticism and feedback is welcome and appreciated because this is my first fanfic series and I’m running on low energy.
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10:30 P.M
It’s dark. Silent, too. Clouds drift over Yokohama, blocking out the moon’s light. The heavy rain poured over all, drenching the ground. It’s all so wet, a heavy humid night. A utility pole happens to be nearby, sticking up in the ground. The wires stick out in all directions, thin and sturdy. Two birds rest on a wire, one a color that resembles blood. The other? Oh, it’s pure white. A stark difference from its companion nearby. Two different creatures, yet in this moment they’re here.
Together.
Together, like Chuuya Nakahara and you. Here he is, laying down on his stomach, sniper rifle perched on the edge of the building, finger on the trigger. The wind occasionally ruffles his hair, the ginger strands resting on his shoulder. A quiet night, that’s what it is. Save for the rain. It soaks him to the bone, clothes clinging to his frame. Every few seconds, he has to wipe his eyes of the water.
Fuck. He should’ve brought an umbrella like you.
You’re behind him, clutching your own gun under the comfort of the umbrella. Waiting for that inevitable shot he would take.
Information from the Port Mafia had detailed an enemy gang who had their own sniper out tonight as well. A good one, allegedly. Too good to be alive. It’s why you two are both out on February 14th. A rainy day where love floods through the city as lovers celebrate each other. No couple here, though. Just a duo. Your duo.
Nothing’s new. Not when it’s been this way for years. Just him and you.
Chuuya’s always had your back, and you’ve always had his. On the streets. On the rooftop. On days where things weren’t so terrible, and on days where it was terrible.
Before as orphans, sleeping in abandoned warehouses where Chuuya would stay up all night, keeping watch. A jacket - his - would cover you for warmth, even if he’d be cold. How when he got food, he gave more to you. You looked so thin, and he was scared shitless you’d die of starvation.
So he went hungry so you could eat more. Hungry until the Mafia found them. Inducted them into their organization and roles.
Now as fucking Mafia members, sharing an apartment even though you two could easily afford your own now. But it’s home. Where memories were made - eating shitty takeout, gossiping about co-workers and having a sleepover party every night.
Blacking out those memories of the past. And looking forward to the future.
And in the future, he’d still be there. As a friend, confident or hell - maybe even more. It didn’t matter. As long as you were happy and safe, Chuuya was okay with his life.
Okay with the work they did now.
His ears catches the sound of your gentle hums, a small smile pricking at the corner of his lips. It’s been a while since Chuuya last heard them. A good contrast to the dead silence you two were stuck in. A bit of chatting never hurt anyone. Shifting a bit, Chuuya’s voice stuck out against the pouring rain, hoping you’d speak back and not be a rule abiding bitch.
“I hate this rain. It’s so fuckin’ wet.”
And he did hate it. Especially without an umbrella and when they were in the middle of an area containing nothing about abandoned house projects and crumbling buildings. A few puddles had formed on the roof, much to his disdain.
“That’s what she said.”
Did you have to? Did you REALLY have to? Chuuya groaned, mentally facepalming himself for walking into that one. You both were the same age - twenty two - and here you were making jokes that a middle schooler would.
“Did you have to?”
“Have to what?”
Fuck you. You totally did know what, but he gives up on it. You’re a cheeky one who never likes to be straightforward with him.
“I- nothing. Hey, do me a favor and get your ass over here, okay? The umbrella too. You can at least cover me too.”
Your footsteps make sounds on the puddles nearby as you stroll over to him, sitting down nearby and begrudgingly covering him with it. A few raindrops roll off the edge of the umbrella, finding their way onto the back of your neck. Chuuya stifles a comment at that, not wanting to lose his umbrella privileges.
“Thanks.”
A small mutter comes from his lips as his shoulder touches yours, not even flinching when your free hand reaches up to play with his hair. He’s too used to it all. The random times where you jump onto his back. Braiding his hair while he naps on the couch at home. Painting his fingernails pink while he’s blackout drunk. This is one of your tamer moments.
“Geez, Chuu. Your hair’s so friggin’ soft. I’m gonna use your hair products when we get home.”
A side-eye from Chuuya.
“I bought them. They’re mine. Not yours, you thief.”
He’d almost always give up his things to you. Clothes, hairties, snacks, etc. You always won, sadly.
“You owe me. Don’tcha remember when you borrowed my rings and lost them?”
He did. Chuuya remembers that very well.
“Fine.”
Another ‘fuck you’ passes through his mind. Minutes go by in relative silence coupled with the occasional bickering. You went back to your corner of the roof, leaving him once again soaked to the bone from the rain. Chuuya regrets not letting you do the assassination for tonight. Now you were dry in your little bubble, being the back-up in case someone tried to rush up the stairs at them.
Boring. This was all so boring. When was the action?
It didn’t take much longer.
The building opposite of them containing the supposed sniper for the night had a shadow suddenly pop up, Chuuya’s body automatically lining up the shot as a gunshot bursts out of his gun. He’s expecting to see blood spurt out of the body, the thud on the concrete.
Nothing.
Instead, as he recovers from the recoil of the shot, your cry of warning rings out too late as another crack shoots out from nowhere.
First, a bloom of hot pain in his collarbone. His ears are ringing a bit, mind dazed and shocked and unable to register how your fingers tug him to safety behind a parapet. Damn it, he thinks. Must’ve been a decoy puppet of sorts. God, how could he have been so stupid as to not think of that?
He’s Chuuya fuckin’ Nakahara. Best sniper in the whole of the Mafia’s men.
Second, the pain intensifies as he slowly comes to his senses, eyes focusing on the sight of your crying self. His heart began to beat faster - not only due to blood loss - but because it hurt so damn much to see you cry.
“Hey- don’t cry. I’m okay.”
Fingers shakily rise to rest on your arm, feeling the warm flesh under the fabric of his gloves. Chuuya’s not dying. Not now, not ever. He’s not done protecting you.
“I’m not dying, you hear me? I’m not fuckin’ dead yet.”
A load of shit, coming from him. The man with blood flowing from his collarbone as he clutches onto you like a child. It’s pathetic looking, and a wave of self-consciousness greets his body. You don’t give a crap though. He’s dying, no time to focus on how child-like and dependent Chuuya is right now.
“I’m not crying, dipshit.”
Your fingers tightened on his shirt as you choke out a reply. That comforts him. He couldn’t be dying if your banter happens even now.
“Sure you’re not. Fuck- this hurts.”
Another quick retort from you, filled with sarcasm and a desperate attempt at normalcy. That it was just another day in your shared apartment rather than him bleeding out in your arms.
Normal normal normal. It’s normal.
“I wonder why. Couldn’t be the fucking gunshot.”
Heh.
It’s true. It hurts so bad. Sharp shudders of pain explode all over his body. His heart, his chest, his head.
Thirdly, Chuuya Nakahara is dying. He’ll confess to that now. The world slowly swirls above him, your voice and sniffles tuning out as you desperately request for medics from the Mafia.
The stars are a mix of bright dots in the night sky.
The rain pours. The umbrella lies forgotten. Water drips down your bodies as he stays in your lap, bleeding out on what others consider a happy day. So much water. Damn, if he was going to go out, it could’ve been in better weather. Not this mess of wind and rain. His shirt is now a color of red, dulled by the water sinking further down on you two.
Chuuya tries to manage a smile. For you. For his best friend.
His everything.
“It’s okay.”
It’s really not. Especially to you.
“The fuck, Chuuya? It’s not okay, okay? Stop talking like you’re dying.”
He is. Chuuya can feel life slowly ebb out of him, his limbs feeling like jelly now. Your arms tighten around him, clutching onto the wet fabric of his shirt. His eyes focus on yours, that smile not leaving his face just yet.
“Chuuya. Chuuya, no. Keep your fucking eyes open.”
Chuuya’s eyelids are woozy. So, so tiring. He needs a nap. Even if it was cold and raining, your arms were cozy and warm.
A short nap.
So he takes a nap, eyes slowly shutting as life flooded his memories. His life, which Chuuya considered having started at twelve years old.
When he met you.
——————
A.N: Hi! So, if you made it this far (thank you if you did <3), this is just like part one of chapter one. I’m planning for the second half to be really long, so I’m going to take a while on that.
Please leave feedback and criticism so I can improve on my writing! Have a good night/day boys, girls and squirrels!
#bsd chuuya#bungou stray dogs#bungou gay dogs#chuuya#chuuya x reader#chuuya supremacy#chuuya nakahara#chuya x reader#bsd chuya#chuya nakahara#bungo stray dogs chuuya#bsd x gender neutral reader#bsd x reader#bsd angst#angst#childhood friends#first fanfic#aspiring writer#gender neutral reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#fanfic#kinda depressing#Romantic Killer
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Cleaning Up
A/N: My final entry for @the-slumberparty‘s Bingo, this one combining "Maid AU" and "Picnic". Reader is implied female but no descriptors used.
Warnings: Implied abuse. Harassment. Ex-boyfriend angst. Please let me know if I missed any!
“Ms. Y/L/N, may we chat?”
You inwardly roll your eyes as your manager, the very annoyingly particular (though very attractive), Mr. Jonathan Pine. Ever since he took over the hotel’s management he’s been a thorn in your side. Asking how and why you clean the way you do. Following you along your rounds. Always looking over your shoulder at what you’re working on. It’s really set your nerves on edge and you’ve been anxious at work every night since he started.
“About what, Mr. Pine?”
“I want to thank you for allowing me to shadow you on your rounds. The other maids have been quite short with me when I attempt to learn from them but you have been exceptionally patient with me. I’m certain it cannot be easy to have a stranger watching what you are doing, but it has been most helpful to me in learning the standards and needs of the hotel.”
“Oh,” you definitely weren’t expecting this. “Umm…you’re welcome?”
He gives you a small smile and continues, “the last thing I wanted to do in transferring here was tell people how to do their jobs. The fact is, the hotel is running well so changing things would likely be detrimental to our operations. But lessons learned here could be applied to our lower performing hotels and you have been an admirable guide.”
“Remember that at my performance review,” you chuckle.
“I was actually wondering if you’d be willing to take on a management role. Your tutelage was most helpful and easy to learn from. I think you’d do well.”
“Oh hell no,” you shake your head, eyes wide. “I’m not good at managing people.”
He cocks his head to the side, “but you did so well with me.”
“You’re a person, not people. I’m fine with one-on-one but even a small group gets a bit much for me. Especially if I don’t know them.”
“Ahh, I see,” he nods. “I would still like to promote you so that you can earn the amount you should for training others. There’s no question amongst the staff that you’re the best teacher. Or, tutor, as the case seems to be.”
“As much as I’d love that, you don’t get promotions and more pay without more responsibility so what would the catch be?”
“It would, technically speaking, be managerial so you could no longer be involved in union matters.”
“Nope,” you shake your head, smiling. “The union has been too good to me and for me. I really appreciate the consideration, but I’ll stay where I’m at in the hierarchy of things.”
“That is a shame, but I shall respect your decision.” Jonathan smiles back while making some notes on his clipboard and excuses himself.
The rest of the night shift is spent rather quietly, everyone going through their usual routines. You all had some good laughs over items left behind from patrons. You’ve lost track of how many unused condoms you’ve found in the garbage bins.
You’re getting ready to leave for home when you hear a painfully familiar voice behind you. “Y/N! What are you doing here? Are you staying at this hotel, too?”
You turn around and see him, Charles Blackwood, your ex-boyfriend staring at you with a malicious smile. “I’m here for work, Charles. Why are you here?”
“I’m here for pleasure,” he winks at you. “What job are you working these days that they’ll pay for you to stay here?”
You bite your lip before telling him that you work here for the cleaning staff. He chuckles at you, “you really should’ve finished up your degree, Y/N. You’d be in a much better position if you had. If you’d stayed with me, I’d have found a few better positions for you.”
You’re losing your battle to keep yourself calm but don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break down. Charles had always been quick to criticize you for being “too emotional,” “unable to take a joke,” and “too stupid to think logically.” He’d broken you down so much that you dropped out of college because you were failing everything. It took you so many years, and so many tears, to get out of the habits he’d forced you into.
“Please just leave me alone,” you say through gritted teeth, nostrils flaring.
“Aww, but you’re always so much fun to poke and prod,” Charles starts to walk towards you and you brace yourself, not wanting to flinch or run but also not wanting him to touch you. You’re so focused on him you don’t notice Jonathan until he’s standing between you and Charles.
“Mr. Blackwood, please do not speak to my staff in such a manner.”
“Don’t worry about it, we’re old friends. She knows I’m just poking a bit of fun. Tell him, Y/N.”
Jonathan looks over his shoulder at you and you give him a gentle shake of your head with a scared look in your eyes. He turns back to Charles, “Mr. Blackwood, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I will not have anyone harassing a member of my staff.”
“I’m not harassing her, I’m just talking to her. Now stick to your job and get me my room key while I catch up with my friend.”
“Sir, in the span of just a few minutes you have made several inappropriate comments towards her and she has asked you to leave her alone. I will not allow you to continue your conversation regardless of your previous relationship. If you do not leave I will not hesitate to call the police.”
Charles' face turns ugly with rage, “I’m just chatting with her. Nothing more. Now move.”
“Charles, please just leave me alone.” Even you are surprised that you spoke out, but Charles’ surprise turns back into rage.
“What the hell is your problem, Y/N? All I wanted to do was chat and catch up with you. But no, you’re still the same stupid, self-important, overly sensitive bitch I broke up with. I was the best thing to ever happen to you and you’re lucky that I even deigned to acknowledge your presence! You cost me a hotel room and I only wish I could get back all that time I wasted trying to help you.” Charles turns on his heel, grabbing his luggage, and storms out.
The minute he’s no longer in sight you collapse into a ball, ugly crying. Jonathan has a hand on your shoulder asking if you can get on your feet and go with him to the break room. You struggle a bit but he’s got surprisingly strong arms and helps you to your feet. You get into the break room and he immediately gets you some water as you keep sobbing. You lose track of the time and only know that Jonathan is well overdo to clock out because the morning manager comes in to talk to him. You can’t help but feel guilty for taking up his time.
When you try to apologize he cuts you off, “you do not need to talk about what happened between you two. You are distressed and that is more than enough for me.”
“I…I want…to apologize,” you force the words out. You hadn’t had a stress stutter in a long time but just a minute with Charles and it’s back. “You sh…shouldn’t have to…deal with him.”
“There is nothing for you to apologize for,” he reassures. “Even if I didn’t know you I would have stepped in. I’m a bit of a stickler for doing the right thing and sending him away was most certainly the right thing.”
“It…he shouldn’t still get me like this. He was…never physically violent. He never hit me…”
“Just because it wasn’t with his fists doesn’t mean he didn’t hurt you,” Jonathan cuts you off.
“He…would point out…all of my flaws. He’d…say he was helping me by doing it so I, so I could work on them and…and feel better about myself. If I ever th-thought I was doing good, he’d…he’d laugh as if I was joking and make sure to point out every mistake. Every flaw. Every good thing could’ve been done better if I’d done this or that. If I ever complained, it was me being too sensitive, unable to take a joke. I still have moments where I think he was right.”
Jonathan holds your hand and looks into your eyes, “Y/N, I’ve only known you for a few weeks but I already know you to be strong, capable, kind and intelligent. And to see so much of that disappear in just a few seconds of his talking to you tells me much. He clearly hurt you greatly yet you still stood up to him. You are much stronger than you think you are. Certainly stronger than he thought. He was wrong about you in many, many ways.”
His words cause more tears. You’re expecting curtness, being brushed off, but he’s giving you kindness and understanding.
“Would, um, would you,” your hands are shaking and you can’t look him in the eye but you know you need help. “Would you please walk me to the bus stop? I…I don’t want to run into him again. And I can’t tell him to get off the bus. If he’d even “deign” to use public transit.”
Jonathan smiles and puts his hand on your shoulder, “I’ll do you one better, if you’ll let me. I’ll give you a ride home. That way he won’t get the chance to see or follow you. How does that sound?”
“I’ll make sure to give you some gas money. I live kinda far away.”
“That will not be necessary,” he gives you an earnest look. “As I said, I'm a stickler for doing the right thing.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pine.”
“We’re off the clock, Y/N. You can call me Jonathan.” He smiles at you and you feel a bit calm.
Over the course of the week, between your coworkers and your manager, you find it surprisingly easy to get back to normal. There was a time when something like this would’ve resulted in at least a month of flinching at interactions and crying at mistakes. You bring in cookies to the break room to thank everyone. You even made sure to make some vegan ones for Denise.
After another week you notice Jonathan is still regularly checking in on you. So much so the other maids are semi-jokingly talking about the two of you getting together. Normally management is considered “off limits” but apparently Mr. Pine is an exception for them. They keep talking about him around you, as if you needed reminding that he’s handsome, polite, strong, a good listener, cares about his people, etc., etc. That’s kinda the problem.
He’s definitely out of your league. He’s refined, well educated, strong in so many ways. Meanwhile you’re a constant mess, a dropout, and, at best, a work in progress. You’re pretty sure the only reason he keeps checking in on you is either pity or general concern for his workers’ well being.
At least until he asks you to join him for “lunch” at one of the picnic tables outside. Working the night shift you generally don’t go outside to eat but you trust Jonathan and walk with him out to the tables. It’s a part of the hotel you don’t see often. The flowers are lovely and there are fairy lights that make everything feel almost magic out here.
"I think I need to eat here more often," you say with a smile. "I didn't realize how pretty the landscaping was.
"It is quite lovely," Jonathan agrees. "I also think it's important to occasionally walk away from your work. Helps you come back to it with a fresh perspective, maybe even a bit more energy."
"That makes sense. I just wish we could see real fireflies. The fairy lights are lovely, but there's just something magical about the real deal."
Jonathan gives you a confused look, "fireflies?"
"Oh, I know they're called lightning bugs in other parts of the country. They're so pretty regardless of what you call them."
"I have never seen them before. Part of me genuinely believed they were an American cryptid sort of thing."
"You know, we are in the right season for them," you look at your food, not quite believing you're about to say what you're about to say. "If you'd like, we could go to a more rural area some night, a nearby nature park, and we'd likely be able to see them. Have a picnic by firefly light." You hold your breath awaiting his response.
"Y/N, are you asking me on a date?"
"Um, well, if I've overstepped I don't mind rescinding. I was just thinking-"
"I'd love to."
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As much as I love the art style of the idw comics, I hate how they portray Shadow in it. Granted, Shadow can be proud at times, they still portray him to be a bit too arrogant.
The one thing I really dislike that doesn't get talked about enough is when Shadow and Sonic fight over redeeming Eggman. Sonic then says that Shadow tried to destroy earth and you could say that he was comparing Shadow's actions to that of Eggman's.
Eggman destroys and hurts people because he can and he wants to. He does it so that he can take over the world. He wants and craves power and authority.
Shadow's memories were altered. He lost probably the only friend who treated him like a normal being rather than a science experiment. He lost Maria and was grieving when Eggman found him. And the last thing he remembers is Maria telling him to get revenge (memory alteration by gerald). While, I am not saying that what Shadow did was right, he atleast didn't try to hurt anybody because he wanted power or authority. And the people who were responsible for Maria's death attacked the ark because they were Greedy and power hungry.
Atleast Shadow redeems himself properly. He helps those around him while still carrying the memories of the time he tried to hurt civilians. He is trying to be a better person. He isn't ignoring his past mistakes or hasn't forgotten them and is growing from that. As soon as he trained his memories, he tried to save earth. Granted that is what Maria wanted but he could have chose to not follow through with his promise to her. He could have let the world burn but he didn't.
Suppose the zombot arc didn't happen and Eggman stayed an amnesiac, that still doesn't feel like an earned redemption. As soon as he got his memories back, he tried to hurt everyone again. He could have chose to redeem himself but he didn't.
Sonic comparing the two annoyed me because they aren't alike. Shadow will always be a better person than eggman could ever think of being.
In honor of me finally catching up with all of IDW and no longer fearing spoilers, I can finally give this ask a long overdue answer! Better late than never, right?
As for the ask itself...oh, thank God someone else feels the same way I do about that interaction. It’s no secret that I don’t like how Shadow behaves in IDW, but I normally like IDW Sonic.
But the way he treated Shadow in issue #6 was inexcusable.
Under the cut: spoilers for IDW #6 and beyond, as well as harsh but fair (IMO) criticism of Sonic’s behavior in that issue. I am...passionate about this.
As is often the case, Sonic and Shadow are at each other’s throats once again due to their opposing philosophies. They both have valid reasons, and neither is 100% right. I’m mostly on Sonic’s side here, but he’s uncharacteristically naive about the situation.
That’s one way to describe a murderous villain bent on taking over the world at the expense of countless innocent lives, I guess.
Eggman played a part in compensating for his own terrible deeds in SA2, likely so he could have a home to come back to and conquer. Self-serving from start to finish. Meanwhile, Shadow nearly lost his life saving the human race, despite their role in his traumatic, tragic past, all because two pure-hearted young girls asked him to.
Nice of you to bring up one of the most confusing, painful parts of Shadow’s life like that, just to point out the wonderful role Eggman played in protecting his claim on the Earth so he could conquer it later himself. Again. Couldn’t help but notice you skipped the way Shadow...
Was forced to relive the traumatizing memories of the humans murdering his best friend
Was nearly shot by a man who falsely accused him of massacring a space station full of humans, including said best friend
Was pulled in a million directions by people he barely knew when he didn’t even know who he was
Turned against his own species (the Black Arms) and personally enacted a genocide against them all to save the world and the humans AGAIN despite all that. I see no way this couldn’t have negatively impacted him on some level
Oh, and Eggman? He cloned an army of Shadows without his consent and took advantage of Shadow’s identity crisis to convince him he was an android Eggman had created
Really, Sonic? Because I recall him leaving you alone until you made a point of picking a fight. Did you forget he was brainwashed that entire time - by a man who called Shadow his own son, no less?
You know full well Shadow’s more than earned his redemption. You could have argued your actual point, but instead, you chose to guilt Shadow with a cheap shot for things he either wasn’t responsible for or has already grown past. This is in a world where he’s judged as a villain by the very people he was created to protect. Shadow’s a hero in a way Sonic can’t even fathom. Sonic’s always been beloved by all but the worst villains. He will never, ever understand what it’s like to protect humans who’d lock him up forever at the first opportunity (proof: Sonic 06). I’d argue Shadow’s the biggest hero in this franchise for that reason, and someone who’d sincerely compare him to Doctor Eggman at the end of the day could never appreciate that.
It takes a lot to make me side with IDW Shadow. I still don’t agree with his plan to kill Mr. Tinker, but it absolutely kills me to see him cave so quickly while Sonic has this smug smirk on his face, as if he’s right and Shadow’s wrong and that’s all there is to it. They agree to follow Sonic’s plan entirely, no compromise, not even doing the bare minimum of stationing a scout in Windmill Village to keep an eye on Mr. Tinker.
At least Shadow got to slam the door in his face. Sassiest use of Chaos Control to date. A+.
Sonic’s usually solid in IDW, but he gets preachy here and there IMO, particularly when it comes to forgiveness. Virtually every problem has been caused or exacerbated by him giving villains a slap on the wrist and taking no further precautions. There were times in the past where Sonic was more on the level of “I won’t kill you, but I don’t have to save you, either.” I miss that sometimes.
This might be predictable coming from me, but I wish Amy could’ve been there. Partly because she’s a good judge of character and she might’ve been able to talk some sense into Sonic, but also because I would love to see someone stand up for Shadow, to back him up with the righteous indignation he deserves. I can picture her turning on Sonic for this.
“HOW DARE YOU TALK TO HIM LIKE THAT! SHADOW’S ONE OF THE BRAVEST HEROES WE’VE EVER MET!”
Shadow deserves that validation, and Amy’s passion would make her perfect for the job.
It also would’ve been nice if Rouge had followed them up the hill instead of waiting down in the village. I doubt Sonic would’ve dared to say any of this with her around.
Side note: Eggman may not have earned the forgiveness he got from his memory loss, but the loving people of that village absolutely deserved everything Mr. Tinker did for them. I’m still legitimately upset that we lost that.
#ask#Anonymous#sonic the hedgehog#shadow the hedgehog#idw sonic#not a headcanon#is it obvious that i have Feelings about this
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Nancy fundamentally not understanding the role Jonathan plays in his family has been an issue for them since the very beginning and that's not a criticism of Nancy or Jancy, it's just something they need to address and resolve if Jancy are going to make it.
In the motel scene (s2) when Jonathan says ‘Will needed me’, she seems to think that’s a thin excuse for not following up with her. What Jonathan means when he says ‘Will needed me’ and what Nancy is imagining from her own frame of reference are just so different. What she’s not grasping is that Jonathan isn’t just an older sibling like her, he’s Will’s second parent, and that Joyce, unlike Karen, couldn’t just stay home and be a full-time caretaker, that Joyce, unlike Karen, doesn’t have a husband (however useless Ted Wheeler might be sometimes) to go to doctor’s appointments with her or be moral support.
Jonathan probably missed a ton of school staying with Will and Joyce in the hospital and then staying home with Will while he was recovering. Or working extra shifts so Joyce could stay home and they could pay their bills. Jonathan was probably cooking meals, repairing their destroyed house, staying up nights when Will had nightmares, working day and night to help him feel safe again, keeping track of his physical and medical needs alongside Joyce, and driving him everywhere.
Jonathan was managing responsibilities Nancy understandably can’t conceive of because she just doesn’t have to do those things. She gets upset when Jonathan insinuates a month wasn’t giving him enough time because she has no understanding of how time-consuming and emotionally draining taking care of a kid is, especially a sick or traumatized kid. To her, that was plenty of time, to Jonathan it wasn’t even enough time to catch his breath.
This continues to be at the root of all of their issues. She doesn’t seem to grasp that Jonathan is actively keeping the roof over his family’s head by putting his summer job money toward mortgage payments. Her vision of their future requires him to be thousands of miles away from his family. Nancy doesn’t understand Jonathan’s role and Jonathan fails to help her understand it. It’s been that way from the very beginning of their relationship and if they don’t fix that, they can’t move forward.
#jancy#jonathan byers#nancy wheeler#my thoughts#I just think it's interesting how integral this tension is even in s2 at the moment they're getting together#There are obviously other things going on too#like Jonathan's trust issues and general social skills#things that stem from their class divide and his abusive parent that nancy doesn't really know about#But like fundamentally she doesn't seem to fully understand his responsibilities and priorities
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📍Worlds 2017 FD practice
-some musings
It’s kinda funny reading a couple of comments on the YT video of this practice that were obviously written before the competition, that said ‘oh I love their new ending pose’ referring to this moment. It’s funny to me coz it doesn’t seem like that at all- knowing this was never the actual ending pose (if they changed it) and that it is obviously just spontaneous in the moment.
The way you can tell that is T didn’t know that was gonna happen, because you can see she started to lean back thinking he was going to lay her down, and when he didn’t, she stays suspended there for a moment, him holding her so gently in his arms as he seemingly got caught in her eyes for a moment and didn’t follow through with the actual end pose.
She wasn’t suspended very far back, it’s quite subtle but it’s so soft how in that little moment of miss-communication, in the most beautiful way, he catches her off guard a bit so even for a brief moment lets her float there semi-weightless in his arms with the most gentle touch while they stare into each other’s eyes. He holds her so effortlessly- no indication in him at all the decision not to lay her down- just a subtle impulse, that right hand on her back holding her so close to himself; no hesitation, no insecurity-like it’s the most natural thing in the world to hold her heart close to his own. Her hand in his hair, him so delicately holding her head so he can stay fixed on her eyes. Then as she surrenders to the magic of the moment, she sits back up and their foreheads fall together as both their hands, so softly still in contact with each other fall away- her’s down his face and his fingertips tracing down her first few vertebrae- made even softer by the fact her beautiful pale skin always becomes flushed pink in the cold of the arena.
It’s moments like this where those of us entranced in their magic are reminded that their entire world exists between their eyes fixated on each other’s. Obviously not the whole time they are skating but when they do come back to that it is like they are being third wheeled by the whole world.
A whole conversation just happened in those few seconds without words, then when he does actually say something and they bring themselves out of that trance, that magical little moment lingers. It’s these kinds of moments I imagine there was so, so many of in the privacy and protection of their home training. They are truly magical when they perform for an audience but little moments like this, that in reality last just a few seconds maybe for them they can make feel like hours, just locked between their eyes or their foreheads resting against each other’s like a little prayer. It’s such a conflict to watch the spontaneity of a moment like this where you feel like you are witnessing the most pure form of love playing out before your eyes, but at the same time feel like an intruder knowing those are usually only reserved for, or rather born in a much safer environment, left wondering just how many moments like this they shared and how a special place that must of been, free of judgement, criticism, or any speculative boundaries, where their love could just exist for what it is.
As they come back from that moment, not knowing what he said, again through his beautiful, soft touch on her bare skin, indicates ‘we are going to hop up now ok’ and guides her back to her feet, ensuring she’s on balance before standing up himself. Again not hesitant about legitimately lifting her up for the most simple on motions, but so gently through using the palms of his hands lifting her upwards rather than squeezing her uncomfortably. Through just about everything they do on the ice it’s so obvious that she is completely at his mercy- meaning that she is never, ever in danger of falling or getting hurt. Her complete and total faith in him to guide her and lead her, to make decisions for the team while still maintaining her voice and role in stabilising their emotions. Completely at peace with their duties and responsibilities to each other, I suspect still in there lies two little kids who at first were shy to hold each other’s hands, yet at the same time certainly felt so special to have been given a partner to skate and dance with. I feel there was still always this little excitement and giddiness in 28 year old her, this special feeling, perhaps best worded by T herself as ‘thank you for.. holding my hand… for 22 years’ kind of special feeling. And while that may have been what they valued as the most intimate gesture that had the honour of sharing, I imagine the same went for moments like this- moments of gentle spontaneity, soft cradling and forehead touches, little whispers and eyes locked on each other creating a world where no one else could enter.
#I may be speaking for myself through T sometimes..#but I feel it’s very obvious in all their interactions in their partnership#that trust and faith in their respective roles#T allowing herself to beloved and adored#always him to feel so safe in expressing is emotions and be the best partner there can possibly be#*allowing#he does his job so well in showing her off and making sure all eyes are on her#because she lets him show her off#it’s the perfect and balance and flow. and the best part is it wanst natural#that had to work for it. he had to learn to lead her and she had to let herself be lead#they had to learn to trust each other in that respect#and they knew in each other that they had been given the best their will ever be#they knew they had to rise to the ocassion of each other’s greatness#and through that their love and admiration could flourish like this#my beautful dancing bbys#so soft#so gentle#I love you kiddo here’s my heart eyes#soft moments#fd:latch#practice#worlds17#musings#poetic rants
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Hualian Phantom of the Opera AU
Xie Lian grows up in the Xianle Opera House, owned by his parents. He’s taught to sing by the best instructors in the country, and begins performing in operas at 13. It doesn’t take long for the audience to fall in love with him and over the next few years he becomes the opera house’s most famous primadona.
At 17 he takes his most anticipated role yet, playing the lead alongside his co-stars, Mu Qing and Feng Xin. But the opening night performance is interrupted when a boy falls from the rafters above the stage. Xie Lian catches him just in time, and despite the insistence of the director, he refuses to continue his performance until the boy sees a medic. The other employees at the opera house inform him the boy is a stagehand, only recently hired. At first they’d refused to let him work — he was young and too small to reliably do the manual labor required, but the boy wouldn’t take no for an answer.
He’s an odd child. He doesn’t speak much and when the medic tries to remove the bandages over his eye he lashes out wildly. But he takes to Xie Lian. He goes back to check on the boy after the performance, and while he won’t reveal much about himself (it’s the same as he’d told the others. He needs this job. He can’t go home), Xie Lian does note that the boy has a knack for music. When he sees the sheet music Xie Lian is using, he reads it with ease.
Xie Lian wants to take him under his wing— swears to do so once he has a spare moment, especially when he realizes the boy never leaves the opera house at all. He’s started living there. But the directors are running him ragged with the show, all the while prepping for the next. They depend on Xie Lian, and he can’t let them down.
The private lessons never do happen, though. The country’s economy collapses suddenly and very few people have the means to attend the opera. Xie Lian tries to help the only way he knows how, pouring his heart into every song and hoping he could bring his audience some small amount of peace. But people don’t need peace, they need money. They need food on the table and a roof over their heads. So Xie Lian tries to help in that too, volunteering around the city. He doesn’t get much sleep between the two, his body feeling closer to its limit with every passing day — and it shows in his work. The critics say he was a fleeting talent, the spark he’d had in his youth now gone. Xie Lian thinks they might be right. Music doesn’t bring him joy anymore. He lost something in himself, somewhere along the way, and all singing does is remind him how empty he feels without it.
Mu Qing and Feng Xin are forced to find work elsewhere. They’re hired at an opera house across the border, and Xie Lian is happy for them, truly. But Xianle raised him. If it dies, he dies with it.
And really, it’s only a matter of time. Xie Lian’s parents were patrons of the arts, not business people, and while they’d done alright in the height of their son’s fame, they aren’t equipped for this. In the last months, he’s only going through the motions. The only time he truly smiles is when he returns to his dressing room after a performance (each night, attendance dwindles further) and finds a flower lying on his desk. Never a bouquet — who has the money for that these days? But every night without fail, there’s a single flower waiting for him. Some days, thinking of that one soul who still loves music in times like these… it’s the only way he can make himself sing.
The opera house goes bankrupt in winter, and Xie Lian and his family are left with nothing. They go from place to place in the city, before they’re forced to leave altogether, desperate for a warm place to stay. The next few years pass much the same as that first winter: struggling to make ends meet. Most forget Xie Lian, once the most beloved star in the country, ever existed.
It’s 15 years before Xie Lian returns to the Xianle Opera house.
The country has begun its slow revival after the depression which claimed so many lives — Xie Lian’s parents included. A sickness that swept through during their third winter on the road took them both. But Xie Lian has carried on the best he could and now, things are finally looking up. When he finds himself back in the city he’s shocked to find posters advertising the grand re-opening of the Xianle Opera House. He’s even more surprised when he runs into his parents’ old business associate Jun Wu, who informs him that he’d been the one to buy the theater and put it back in working order.
The stagehand job he offers Xie Lian is a testament to Jun Wu’s friendship with his parents, and as much as it feels like pity, it’s the first steady work he’s been offered since the height of his fame. He can’t refuse.
And, to his delight, working at the opera house helps him begin to heal. He likes working behind the scenes — it puts a barrier between him and the music that still brings a pang to his chest while allowing him to remain in these familiar walls. It helps that most don’t seem to recognize him, and those who do don’t speak of his career much. He makes quick friends with the opera’s current Primadonna, Shi Qingxuan. The head stagehand, Yin Yu, treats him well and Quan Yizhen, the young actor who follows at his heels, warms to him quickly too. Even the ballet master, Shi Qingxuan’s reserved friend with a cane (partner? crush? Xie Lian can’t figure them out), He Xuan spares him a nod or short greeting when they cross paths.
But it’s not just the other staff members’ friendship that brings Xie Lian back to life. He knows the stories — Shi Qingxuan tells anyone who will listen. It’s said a ghost haunts the opera house, a horrible, violent creature, and perhaps that should make Xie Lian wary. But he himself is a ghost of this opera house in his own right, so perhaps he feels a bit of kinship with the other poor soul trapped here. It’s the only excuse he can provide for himself, when he hears the voice coming from behind his mirror singing songs he’d long forgot and, rather than fleeing, he begins to sing along.
At first, it’s only singing. It’s been so many years since holding a song in his lungs has made him feel anything but grief, but singing alongside his angel of music helps him remember what he used to be. It feels like sharing something with someone, like offering his love to this room of their voices and feeling it returned.
When he can’t contain himself any longer, he asks for a name. And to his surprise, that low, warm voice he’s come to know so well answers: “San Lang”
It’s a nickname, clearly, but that doesn’t matter. Xie Lian can tell it’s just as honest a reply than any name spoken at a christening. He gives his own in return, and from there the conversations begin and don’t stop. They talk about music, of course, but it turns out San Lang is multi-talented. Xie Lian picks his brain long into the night about history or dramas or science, and San Lang always answers, no matter how late it becomes. They talk about themselves, too, though San Lang seems less at ease with this topic. He answers every question honestly, but Xie Lian refuses to pry. Instead, he talks about his life and travels, and allows San Lang to contribute whenever he feels comfortable.
It doesn’t take long for Xie Lian to recognize he simply likes San Lang. It’s not just missing music or feeling lonely. San Lang is funny and interesting and kind, he listens to what Xie Lian says as if it truly matters to him. He loves the friends he’s made among his coworkers, but San Lang makes him feel seen in a way he hasn’t ever felt. And when he hears the quirk of amusement tint the man’s tone or listens in awe at the sheer range of his knowledge? Xie Lian wants desperately to see San Lang in return.
Months after he settles into his new position and begins talking to San Lang, Xie Lian’s little world comes screeching to a halt. A backdrop falls a few inches from Shi Qingxuan’s head during dress rehearsal and leaves their lead deeply shaken and terrified the opera house’s ghost is out to get her. Although she’s unharmed, and Xie Lian is certain San Lang would never harm his friend, her brother — the opera’s number one male lead — refuses to allow his little sister to return to work until they’re assured it’s safe. With a performance that evening, Jun Wu is forced to replace their star or cancel the show.
Perhaps he should have expected it, but Xie Lian feels something drop in his chest when Jun Wu asks him to step in. It’s one thing, singing with San Lang. That’s something special, just between them. But to sing before a crowd again? Just the thought makes him nauseous.
It’s hardly a choice, though. Jun Wu had offered him this job and turned his life around in the process. One performance is only a small fraction of what he owes the man. Besides, Shi Qingxuan had looked so terrified… perhaps knowing someone else could lift the burden from her shoulders would offer some relief. Being the star is a heavy weight to carry alone.
So Xie Lian steps on stage and sings. It’s petrifying, but he allows himself to imagine San Lang is somewhere in the audience — that each song is only for him. And with that small comfort to guide him, his return to the spotlight is a rousing success.
After the show, Xie Lian wants nothing more than to return to his room and hide from the world. Perhaps he could ask San Lang if he’d heard. Perhaps San Lang had even enjoyed it. The thought brings a flush to his cheeks and after quickly checking in on Shi Qingxuan, he hurries off to his dressing room.
Only, it’s not empty. Inside stand Feng Xin and Mu Qing, older than he remembers them yes, but unmistakably his old friends. They say they'd been there for the show. That they hadn’t known Xie Lian would be performing. They talk about their careers — they’ve been successful, and they hope to return to their home country one day to perform. They say they miss him. Or, Feng Xin says it for the both of them.
It should make him happy, and it does to an extent. But he’s also overwhelmed and exhausted, so when he agrees to join them for dinner later it’s more to get them to leave faster than anything else.
It’s not till the door closes behind them that he hears it; he could recognize San Lang’s voice anywhere. The simple greeting of “gege?” already makes the tension seep from his shoulders. He doesn’t mean to ask what he does in reply. Maybe it’s the strain of the night getting to him. Maybe he’s been holding it back too long. Maybe it’s the single flower waiting on his desk. Whatever the case, it’s past his lips before he can think to stop it.
“San Lang. Can I see you?”
There’s a long moment where no answer comes, and Xie Lian thinks he’s made a huge mistake. Then, seemingly on its own, the mirror on his wall swings outwards like a door, revealing a hidden passage. He doesn’t hesitate to step inside and follow the path down. He knows well that the hammering of his heart in his chest has nothing to do with fear.
He doesn’t have to walk long. He knew he wouldn’t; San Lang wouldn’t leave him alone. But the man before him still surprises him. He’s tall, dressed in all red and black with small silver accents. His hair is long and looks smooth to the touch. But above all, he is so undeniably real. It’s enough to nearly bring tears to Xie Lian’s eyes.
There’s a rigidness to San Lang’s posture that makes Xie Lian pause, however. He’s smiling, but there’s a nervous hint to the expression, and the right side of his face is carefully angled away. Even obstructed that way, Xie Lian spots the crimson mask covering half his face, delicate silver butterflies painted down the side. It’s a lovely piece, clearly crafted with care but unlike any other mask he’s seen, this one has no cut out for the man to see through.
Xie Lian remembers the stories that said the ghost of Xianle Opera House is horribly disfigured— that he’d been cursed at birth, that misfortune fell on anyone so unlucky as to look in his right eye. There’s no way to know the veracity of the rumors. Frankly, it doesn’t matter. It may be overfamiliar to hug a man he’s seeing for the first time, but it’s worth it to wipe the doubt from San Lang’s face.
It’s a moment before he feels San Lang relax in his arms, but eventually two arms wrap around him to return the gesture. It feels like the tension between them has shattered, and they quickly fall into easy conversation. San Lang leads him forward, showing him the world beneath the opera house, grinning proudly at Xie Lian’s awe. He’d known San Lang was talented, but it’s something else entirely to see it in person.
Murals cover every wall depicting scenes from different operas. There are sculptures too, worked into stone of all sorts of things, people, plants, and animals alike. There are waterways through the caverns and San Lang steers them along in a little gondola. As impressive as this paradise he's created is, Xie Lian’s attention always seems to fall back on the man himself, observing his mannerisms and taking in his sharp features.
He’d been ready to collapse when he’d run into his old friends, but now, in San Lang’s company, he’s wide awake. He could stay here forever he thinks, listening to San Lang talk, looking over the compositions he’d written and singing them together. He’s not sure how much time passes — surely hours, enough that he’s certain he’s missed his appointment with Mu Qing and Feng Xin, but he can’t find it in himself to care. He’ll tell them he fell asleep, apologize later and asking to reschedule. But for now, he can’t tear himself away, enamored with his friend and the intoxicating feeling of this place just for them.
He’s not sure when he slips off. It must come on suddenly, the adrenaline from the performance and meeting San Lang leaving his body all at once when sleep claims him. When he wakes, a black cloak is draped over him. He recognizes it as what San Lang was wearing earlier. Sure enough, a glance over his shoulder reveals his friend sat at the organ across the room, dressed down in only his red dress shirt and slacks. He plays a song Xie Lian hasn’t heard before, keeping the notes quiet so as not to disturb his guest. The consideration makes something swell in his chest.
Xie Lian is quiet when he stands and begins to move across the room, but he knows San Lang notices his presence. He doesn’t startle when Xie Lian sits on the bench beside him. Neither of them speak as San Lang continues to play. It’s a selfish impulse that causes him to reach for the mask, the bone deep desire to see the other man possessing him.
When San Lang flinches back, music dying abruptly as he rips his hands from the keys, the regret is immediate and all consuming. Apologies tumble out his mouth so fast they’re nearly incomprehensible. His heart aches at the possibility he may have shattered the implicit trust between them.
But San Lang cuts him off with a shake of the head. “It’s alright, gege, I’m not upset. It’s only… it’s not a pretty sight. What if you find me monstrous?”
And Xie Lian… well he can only answer that with the truth. That San Lang could look be hiding anything beneath that mask, and it wouldn’t matter. He would still be perfect to Xie Lian. He’d still be the one who made music beautiful again. He’d still be, perhaps, the dearest friend he’s ever had. And if San Lang never shows him what’s beneath that mask, that wouldn’t change anything either. So long as San Lang is comfortable, that would be enough.
San Lang’s single visible eye goes wide at that, his mouth slightly agape. Then—
“Next time,” he says. “Next time you try to remove it, I’ll be ready.” And Xie Lian believes him.
He knew he would have to leave eventually, but he still hates it when the time comes. He says his goodbyes with San Lang, hugging him tightly and promising to talk again later that night before returning to his dressing room to prepare for work. He does a few more performances in Shi Qingxuan’s place, until she’s recovered from her fright and Shi Wudu completes his inspections of the stage. Xie Lian feels a bit bad, stealing her role, but she waves him off insisting she’s doing him a favor. She looks healthier too, with He Xuan at her side at every turn. His presence alone seems to lift her spirits.
Her return to the stage comes with the debut of a new show. Tickets sell out almost immediately and Xie Lian is relieved to see things returning to normal. Yin Yu eases him back into his stagehand work, checking on him intermittently to assure he’s alright. Though he’s started to enjoy singing again, he has no love for stardom anymore. He tells San Lang as much, one night — that he would be content to sing with him for the rest of his days, for an audience of only themselves.
But then He Xuan bursts into Jun Wu’s office with unusual urgency, claiming the have received a message from the phantom. The note reads that Shi Qingxuan must step down from her role once more, or risk the consequences. She’s once again shaken, but Jun Wu assures her he won’t violate her contract. Her own brother had confirmed the opera’s safety, and she doesn’t want to step down from another show. A bit worse for wear, she swears to push forward.
For his part, Xie Lian knows immediately that San Lang wouldn’t make such a demand. He has no reason to. Sure enough, when they speak later that day San Lang confirms as much, and though he gets the sense his friend knows more than he lets on, Xie Lian trusts him.
Opening night starts off well, and Shi Qingxuan seems to gain confidence with every successful song. But as the finale of the first act begins, something catches her eye on the side of the stage. A shadowy figure crosses her vision — one she knows isn’t meant to be there. It never was in any of their rehearsals. Dressed in all black she can’t make them out, but they’re familiar in a way that should be comforting. Which makes it all the more terrifying when all she senses from them is malice.
Her voice dies in her throat and the building stress she’s been pushing back snaps something in her. She collapses to the floor, in a silent shaking heap, and Xie Lian doesn’t even consider the consequences when he runs on stage to help her. In the chaos, Jun Wu steps in front of the audience, saying that the show would go on with Xie Lian taking Shi Qingxuan’s place. Xie Lian fumes — what does a night’s revenue matter when a performer has been pushed to the point of a mental break? There’s no time to be angry, though, not when all his attention is dedicated to getting Shi Qingxuan away from prying eyes. Certainly not when Yin Yu’s body falls from the rafters.
The crowd explodes, screaming about curses and phantoms. There’s no basis for the accusations, but it’s too late. Fear demands a villain. San Lang’s guilt might as well be proven, as far as the witnesses are concerned.
It’s all too much at once. Xie Lian vaguely registers someone Shi Qingxuan removing from his arms — Shi Wudu, he thinks, but can’t be sure. Quan Yizhen is on stage in a flash, curled over Yin Yu, shaking the limp body as if he might wake up. It’s hard to watch, but Xie Lian stands frozen. He liked Yin Yu. They hadn’t spoken of much aside work, but he’d been considerate and fair. He didn’t deserve this.
When someone pulls him away and drags him through the opera house, Xie Lian lets it happen, a visitor in his own body. He hears voices bickering back and forth but can’t parse out the words. He wants San Lang. It’s pitiful, really, but it’s the truth. When San Lang is around, things make sense.
It’s not until fresh air hits his face that he understands what’s happening. He’s on the roof with Feng Xin and Mu Qing, both of them talking at him so quick he can barely process. They demand to know what’s going on, if he’d known about the phantom. They say this place isn’t safe and that he could get better work elsewhere. Xie Lian says nothing for a long while, too overwhelmed, but when they insist he leave with them — for good — he stops them short.
In hindsight, it’s not smart to tell his overprotective friends that’s he’s been having midnight rendezvous with the man they’ve just accused of murder, but in that moment Xie Lian needs them to understand. He needs them to know that San Lang isn’t dangerous, that he can’t leave not because of the job but because of the person the job led him to. He needs them to see that loves this man, even if he doesn’t say it in so many words. Even if he’s still scared to admit it to himself. And if he comes off sounding half hysterical? It’s only because the shock of the night is still weighing on him, and the idea of losing San Lang all but pushes him over the edge.
But Mu Qing and Feng Xin think he’s lost his mind. That San Lang has enchanted his somehow, tricked him into thinking he loves him, and that taking him away from this place is the only way to save him. Xie Lian is not a weak man by any stretch, but Feng Xin and Mu Qing are both fit from years of dancing. Between the two of them, they overpower him by force and insisting it’s for his own good.
Xie Lian cries out for San Lang, and perhaps he should be embarrassed, but all he can think is that, even if San Lang can’t help him, at least he’ll know it wasn’t Xie Lian’s choice. At least he’ll know Xie Lian wanted to stay with him.
In the end, he doesn’t know if San Lang gets his message. His old friends drag him from the opera house to their carriage, and don’t let him go until it’s disappeared from sight behind them.
It’s 6 months before Xie Lian returns to the opera house. Between the scandal of the murder and the police investigation the theatre is shut down for the season. Even after preparations begin for the reopening, Mu Qing and Feng Xin keep him under close watch. They eventually give up on the enchantment theory, but only after bringing in a hypnotist to (unsuccessfully) cure him. Only after they’ve run out of excuses and receive a personal visit from Jun Wu asking for his employee back does Xie Lian escape their scrutiny.
But even after his return, San Lang is nowhere to be seen. Xie Lian doesn’t want to believe he would forget him, but six months without contact is a long time to expect someone to wait. His other friends only fair slightly better. Shi Qingxuan has recovered, but she’s not the same kind, excitable woman Xie Lian knew. She’s subdued, always trailed by her brother though the two barely speak. She’s never around He Xuan anymore either, one of them always leaving the room the moment the other enters. Xie Lian knows something happened, but he doesn’t know how to ask what. As for Yin Yu… his position has long been replaced, and conversations skirt around the topic of his death. But to Xie Lian his absence is palpable. He spends more time with Quan Yizhen than he used to. The boy is a bit odd. Some days Xie Lian wonders if he’s even grieving at all, until he sees something that reminds him of his friend and goes quiet for the rest of the day.
Altogether, the somber atmosphere of the opera house doesn’t lend itself to hosting grand parties, but Jun Wu is insistent a masquerade will be a perfect opportunity for the public to make new memories of the theatre. They’re putting the past season behind them, he says, and no one has the extra energy to argue.
So, the night of the masquerade arrives and Xie Lian finds himself trying not to dwell on the lifeless look in Shi Qingxuan’s eyes or He Xuan’s convenient absence or how Quan Yizhen looks like a lost puppy. But then his mind wanders to San Lang’s continued silence, which isn’t any better. It’s shaping up to be an altogether miserable evening when Xie Lian hears someone speak behind him. And he’d recognize that voice anywhere.
San Lang is a vision in red. He blends in with the other costumed guests, but Xie Lian thinks he steals the night all the same. It’s all he can do to keep from launching himself at the man. But then San Lang is offering his hand for a dance, and Xie Lian can’t help but take it.
“Pray gege will forgive me for not coming to him sooner,” San Lang says, sounding truly wretched, and that’s all it takes for Xie Lian to break. He tells San Lang there’s nothing to forgive, that he’s the one who’s sorry for being away so long. That he was scared San Lang was hurt or that he’d forgotten him. With each word San Lang only grips his hand tighter.
“I heard you that night — I wanted to help,” San Lang confesses. “But I was afraid that if they learned you knew me, you’d be suspected of the murder too. I didn’t forget, I could never forget. I just couldn’t take the risk.”
“It’s ok, It’s ok, San Lang. You’re here now.”
“I didn’t kill that man, gege,” San Lang says, and Xie Lian can’t stop the hand that flies up to cup his face.
“I know you didn’t.” Xie Lian tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and San Lang shivers when his finger brushes the mask. He can’t look now, not with all these people around, but he holds the promise of next time close even now. “You didn’t… but you’ve got an idea about who did.”
Slowly, San Lang nods. “I do… I just need time to deal with it.”
Xie Lian has a thousand things he wants to ask, but it’s not the time or place. He can tell this appearance was a risk for San Lang and their time is rapidly running out. So, he settles for the one thing he truly cares about. “We’ll see each other again, won’t we?”
“We will. I swear it.” San Lang smiles, warm and genuine and reaches for something tucked in his chest pocket. Hung around a chain is a ring, nearly transparent — as if it’s made of pure diamond. Xie Lian’s heart skips a beat when he thinks of what a lovely engagement ring it would make. There’s no time to dwell on the thought, however, not when San Lang is slipping the chain around his neck and leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Wait for me?”
“Always,” Xie Lian breathes. He can’t tell if the quick kiss pressed to his cheekbone is intentional or simply an illusion conjured by hopeful thinking, and he doesn’t have the chance to ask.
Jun Wu’s voice cuts through the party, cold and commanding. “I see we have an uninvited guest this evening.”
It’s immediately clear to Xie Lian who hes referring to. San Lang knows it too: their time is up. In an instant he turns Xie Lian around in his arms, the kind embrace turned into a threatening hold. A second later he realizes there’s even a blade pressed to his neck and nearly blows their cover by laughing. Where had San Lang hidden such a thing?
“You should be so lucky to have me. I’ve only come to deliver a package,” San Lang calls back as the crowd around them gasps. Xie Lian hopes he looks convincingly terrified. He’d hate to ruin San Lang’s performance, but it’s difficult to feel scared pressed so close to his chest.
“Oh? And what’s that?” Jun Wu asks, unamused. His eyes are glued to Xie Lian, though, so intense it makes his skin crawl.
“Your next opera — I’ve written it myself. I expect to see it produced within the month. Consider it a gift, from me to you.”
The knowledge of what happened the last time the phantom’s request was disobeyed hangs heavy in the air. Shi Qingxuan looks three shades too pale. San Lang doesn’t waste his chance to escape; he’s there one moment and gone the next, leaving a libretto in his place.
Xie Lian is left standing alone, fingers finding the ring around his neck as San Lang’s final warning echos in his ears: do not trust Jun Wu.
The return of the phantom puts the opera house in chaos once more. A few days after the disastrous masquerade Jun Wu calls his top staff to his office to discuss their next steps. To be honest, Xie Lian doesn’t know why he’s been invited, but Mu Qing and Feng Xin insist on accompanying him. Ever since they heard San Lang was back they refuse to let him out of their sight. It takes everything in him not to remind them he is, in fact, a grown man who can take care of himself… but they mean well, and it’s not like he can make contact with San Lang right now anyways. It’s easier to let them do as they please.
Jun Wu greets him politely when he enters and doesn’t comment on his two uninvited guests. Xie Lian trusts San Lang implicitly but it’s difficult to think the man who’d been so generous towards him could be a threat. So, he simply takes a seat beside Shi Qingxuan and her brother. It’s the first time he’s seen the two of them in close quarters with He Xuan since the murder and the heavy atmosphere is palpable.
They talk for a while, considering their options, but in the end they can only do as the phantom instructed, lest they inspire his wrath once more. Xie Lian stays quiet, only speaking up when directly addressed. Shi Qingxuan is similarly uncaring, though he brother has plenty of opinions. She spends the meeting staring at He Xuan, who seems intent to look anywhere else.
But then the topic turns to San Lang himself, and suddenly Xie Lian can pay attention to nothing else. Jun Wu questions He Xuan. He’d been the one to receive the first demand and, based on the look in Jun Wu’s eye, he believes he knows more than he’s letting on. And to Xie Lian’s shock, he does.
15 years ago, when Xie Lian’s parents still owned the opera house, He Xuan had been a frequent attendee. A ballet prodigy of his own right in his youth — before the accident, of course — his family had saved their money to give him time opportunity to see professional dancers in action. It was at one of these performances he recognized one of the city’s street rats. He Xuan had seen him around; he’s hard to forget with those bandages and the murmurs of curses which followed him. So it had come as a surprise to see that same kid working as a stagehand. When he’d heard the rumors years laters of the ghost that haunted these same halls — the stories were too similar to that cursed child to be a coincidence.
At his side, Xie Lian hears Feng Xin mutter something to the effect of “that little creep?!” but in that moment he can’t care less. To know that his San Lang is the same boy from all those years ago… that he’d known Xie Lian at his worst and still made the choice to reveal himself to him. He aches to see San Lang, to be at his side and never leave again.
But things only get worse from there. Because Mu Qing suggests they use the opera to trap San Lang, and the rest of the room nods in agreement. Surely he’d attend the grand opening of his own opera — one he’d been so insistent on showing. And as much as Xie Lian hates the idea of people setting up a witch hunt for the best man he knows right before his eyes, he doesn’t speak up. San Lang doesn’t care about the play. He’d only brought it as an excuse to see Xie Lian and put the guests in a tizzy. He’s too smart to fall for such a thing. It’s the only thought that keeps him calm.
Only once the ridiculous, pointless plan is plotted out do people begin to leave. Xie Lian all but shoots out of his chair, eager to get away, but stops in his tracks when Jun Wu asks him to remain. He even asks that Feng Xin and Mu Qing give them a moment to speak alone. San Lang’s warning comes to his mind once more as the door shuts behind them.
The office is suffocating with just the two of them, silence hanging heavy. For a long while Jun Wu only stares at him. Then: “You will be the lead, Xian Le.”
This, on its own, is nothing to worry about. Xie Lian refuses to let his panic show. “That’s… a very kind offer, but — why?”
“He’ll come if it’s you.”
And that sends a chill down his spine. “I don’t understand.”
“There's no need to play dumb. We both know he has no interest in the opera. What he wants is you,” Jun Wu says, a finger reaching across to tip Xie Lian’s chin upwards. From anyone else, hearing that San Lang wants him would trigger a flutter in his chest. But from this man it makes his blood run cold with the fear he might be used against the man he loves.
“I’ve only just gotten you back, Xian Le,” he says. “I won’t let you be taken again.”
When Xie Lian returns to his room that night, the only thing he wants is to see San Lang, to assure that he wouldn’t allow himself to be hurt on Xie Lian’s behalf. Selfishly, he wishes the two of them could simply leave this place. But it’s not possible — not if he’s the one Jun Wu is truly after. He’d find them, and he’d hurt others in the process. Truly all he can do is wait and trust San Lang.
He doesn’t sleep that night. Lying awake in bed, his eyes fall on his desk. Atop it is a single white flower. Xie Lian scrambles to grab it, pulling it to his chest where the ring rests. He doesn’t let it go until morning the next day.
Xie Lian spends the weeks leading up to the debut of San Lang’s opera trying to mend what little he can. He makes more of an effort to get through to Shi Qingxuan, who eventually confesses that she’d had a falling out with both He Xuan and her brother, and she doesn’t know if she’ll ever fully repair the relationships. Xie Lian had suspected something to this effect, and she refused to go into much detail, but what little she does say is still surprising. Shi Wudu must have done something truly awful to have ostracized himself so fully from his sister. He’s still her brother, she says, but she can’t forgive him. The paradox seems to tear her up. As for He Xuan… of that he hears even less. Just that he must hate her and that she deserves it. She does not say she loves him, but Xie Lian hears it anyways. He’s talked around those words enough to recognize them out of another’s mouth.
He knows better than to try to fix it for her. Some things simply take time. Still, he could offer a shoulder to cry on and a listening ear. It would have to be enough.
Before he knows it, opening night is upon him once more. It’s the first opera that he’s been officially casted for since his teens, but it’s of no consequence to him. He’s only biding his time until San Lang is ready to act. He refuses to let himself worry either. Jun Wu could plot to draw the phantom out all he wants, but Xie Lian had still found that flower. He chooses to believe it’s a message. He chooses to trust San Lang.
So he steps on stage, and he sings. The old nerves are gone, as is the ache of music performed before an audience. Now he knows it’s not what he wants, but not because he’s lost his way. He’s simply found something better. He lets himself gets lost in the notes, one’s that San Lang had written. Nothing else matters.
When his costar steps on stage, Xie Lian doesn’t pay him much mind. Shi Wudu, for all his personal faults, is good at his job. When they’re in a scene together, they tend to leave one another to their own devices.
Except. That is not Shi Wudu’s voice. That is the voice he’s sang with a hundred times, the one he’s been missing all these long weeks. And when Xie Lian turns — sure enough, San Lang is beside him.
A smile immediately splits across his face and he finds the expression mirrored on San Lang. This, he thinks, is how this opera was meant to be sang. The two of them. And for a while they simply continue as rehearsed, admiring the art in its intended form. But as the act draws to an end Xie Lian can tell that the time has come to face the future, and that San Lang feels it too.
Carefully, Xie Lian’s hand comes up to San Lang’s face once more and, true to his word, San Lang doesn’t pull away this time. Still, he hesitates, giving ample time for him to change his mind, until San Lang gives a small nod. In an instant, the mask comes free.
He’s as lovely as Xie Lian always knew he would be. His right eye is crimson save for the pupil, the iris and sclera bleeding into one. Around the socket are an assortment of scars, some which have clearly come too close to the eye itself. Even with the mask removed, Xie Lian doubts San Lang can see from his right eye anymore, not after this level of damage.
Xie Lian loves him. He can keep the confession trapped in his chest no longer. He tells San Lang as much.
And in the disarray that follows, as the audience realizes that somewhere along the way, they went off script and the opera house’s staff putting together just who is on stage, Xie Lian and San Lang flee.
He’s sure Mu Qing and Feng Xin are on their heels, and Jun Wu — Xie Lian isn’t so naïve as to think he’s free of that man yet. But if they run fast enough? He thinks they can at least get a head start.
San Lang leads him through another passage, back down beneath the opera house. This time, he recognizes the murals for what they are: every scene depicted — they’re operas he starred in 15 years ago, operas which always ended in finding a single flower waiting for him. And although he already knows the answer, he asks anyways. “We’ve met before, haven’t we?”
San Lang’s breath hitches, but he does not shy away from the question. “Yes. Before the opera house closed… I couldn’t help you back then. So I waited here, hoping one day you might return and I could be of use to you.”
“You’ve done more than you could ever know, both now and back then,” Xie Lian tells him. They’re still moving. Xie Lian can’t take San Lang in his arms, but he wants to.
When they finally reach their destination, the large room with the organ, Xie Lian stops in his tracks. “Yin Yu!”
And sure enough, there the man stands, alive. In his shock, he’s stunned silent, but San Lang quickly begins filling in the gaps of his understanding.
As it happened, not everyone in the theater lived in fear of the phantom. Yin Yu was one of these outliers. He’d stumbled upon San Lang accidentally when he’d discovered an old hidden passage and decided to explore. His job required him to know this old building better than anyone else — except, it seems, the man who had lived there for over a decade.
San Lang hadn’t trusted him at first. He’d been convinced Yin Yu would reveal his location to the world as soon as he had a chance. But Yin Yu was a simple man; he didn’t look to cause problems or interfere. He had no interest in rumors of the phantom and never had. The two were able to come to an understanding with remarkable ease, and from there a mutual respect was born. Perhaps even something like a friendship. So, the two did small favors for one another, but mostly they simply coexisted.
At least, until Xie Lian arrived. San Lang was insistent he be treated well, and though Yin Yu tried to be a reliable superior to all his stagehands, he kept extra watch over Xie Lian. Initially, it was only to be sure he was settling in, but after a few weeks, something caught his eye. Jun Wu had an odd fixation with the new stagehand, beyond the interest he’d shown other employees. And as Xie Lian grew closer to others, becoming more independent, Jun Wu’s mood soured.
Xie Lian's relationship with the phantom, however, brought a new level of malice to the man’s gaze. On the night he’d “died” he resolved that he could ignore his instincts no longer. After the evening’s performance, he would tell the phantom of his worries. Of course, he never had the chance. Jun Wu caught him before he could descend the passageway. In hindsight it was two birds with one stone: get rid of the phantom’s informant and frame the ghost for the murder.
His mistake was in underestimating Yin Yu. While he’d never stood a chance trying to fight back, he was remarkably good at holding on and not drawing unnecessary attention to himself. Within an inch of his life, he stayed silent and still, allowed himself to be dropped from the rafters, and waited for the right moment.
And then Quan Yizhen had crouched over him, distraught and searching for any sign of life. He’d come close enough that Yin Yu could rasp in his ear, so quiet that only he could hear. He’d always been eager to follow Yin Yu’s every instruction, and this time was no different. In the chaos, he took the body and refused to let it go. He found the passageway Yin Yu told him about and marched unafraid towards the phantom, asking only that he save his friend.
San Lang did. After sending Quan Yizhen away and instructing him not to tell a soul what had happened, San Lang put his vast knowledge to work. It wasn’t an easy recovery, but eventually Yin Yu pulled through and was able to explain what had happened to him.
All of this makes sense but… the way San Lang spoke makes it seem as if there’s more than one person he’s in contact with. When Xie Lian brings this up, San Lang looks away, unwilling to meet his eyes.
“About that… He Xuan and I made a deal, almost a year ago now,” he says. “I allowed him to use my reputation to scare Shi Qingxuan from the stage, and in exchange, he would be in my debt.”
Xie Lian swallows. “But… why?” As far as he knew, the two had been friends up until 6 months ago.
“Revenge,” San Lang says simply. “Gege, you should know something— Shi Wudu is dead.” While Xie Lian had been friendly with He Xuan, he’d never known the man particularly well. They’d certainly never been close enough that Xie Lian felt comfortable asking about the accident that ended his career. As San Lang speaks, he becomes more and more sure he wouldn’t have received an answer anyways.
The Shi siblings were the children of wealthy merchants, and while their parents had died when they were young, they lived comfortably. Both had a talent for the stage, but Shi Wudu was predicted to be the more successful of the two. So, he decided to assure his sister would receive every opportunity — the best instructors at the best schools with the best connections. And he would use any means possible to achieve it, including wiping out the competition.
He Xuan didn’t stand a chance. He had talent and hard work, but it hardly mattered in the face of money and power. His family had saved since his youth to give him the chance to audition for Xianle’s top school of ballet. Scouts who’d seen him dance predicted him the most likely applicant to be admitted. To Shi Wudu, it made him a threat.
It’s a simple thing, for a man of his position to hire a few thugs. Ruff the boy up, he’d instructed. Make sure he’s in no shape to audition. And to their credit, they had followed the instructions to the letter.
The bones in He Xuan’s legs were shattered beyond repair. It would be a miracle if he could walk again. Dancing was completely out of the question. And perhaps, if his career was all he lost, he could have moved on. But the country’s economic collapse hit everyone, and with He Xuan unable to work? His family never recovered. With nothing left, he decided someone had to pay.
Xie Lian can’t blame him for holding a grudge. He’d lost his own parents during the depression, after all. He understands why San Lang had helped, too. But still, he hates that Shi Qingxuan has to suffer. She hadn’t asked for any of this.
San Lang must know what he’s thinking— must read the worry off his face when he says, “There was no way this would ever end without either He Xuan or Shi Wudu dead. Neither of them were going to back down.”
Xie Lisn can concede that. And really, Shi Wudu was terrible, but—
“But scaring Shi Qingxuan wasn’t always a part of the plan. Originally, that backdrop wasn’t going to miss,” San Lang continues. “Maybe that doesn’t mean anything. Maybe He Xuan just went soft. But, somewhere along the way he changed his mind about her. Who knows? Maybe they’ll figure it out.”
It’s not the most reassuring thing he’s heard but… San Lang doesn’t seem to particularly care either way that happens to them, so Xie Lian trusts he’s being objective. And he’s right. It really is up to them now.
Regardless, he doesn’t have a chance to ask any other questions. The time for talk runs out with the arrival of Mu Qing, Feng Xin, and — oddly — Quan Yizhen.
“I thought I told you not to lead anyone else here,” San Lang scolds the boy. Quan Yizhen pays him no mind, going straight to Yin Yu’s side.
“Shixiong we should go. It won’t be safe here much longer.”
Xie Lian’s brows furrow, but before he can ask Feng Xin is grabbing him by the arm and pulling him forward. He digs his heels in on instinct, unwilling to be separated from San Lang again.
He watches Mu Qing roll his eyes. “Don’t be an idiot — it’s complete mayhem up there! A chandelier crashed when the audience started to flee and it’s only a matter of time before the fire spreads!”
At this, San Lang blinks, his mouth thinning into a tight line. “Gege, let’s go. It’s not safe here.”
“He’s not going anywhere with you!” Feng Xin retorts, tugging on Xie Lian’s arm once more. And really, he can’t take it anymore.
“That’s enough! What use is there in arguing? We’ll all go together or we won’t go at all!”
That seems to shut down any further disputes. Reluctantly, Feng Xin releases his arm and Xie Lian once again takes his place at San Lang’s side.
He leads them through the sewers, following the waterways. A few minutes in, Mu Qing demands to know if he even knows where he’s going and gets a chilling glare in response. Otherwise, they travel in silence. At least, until Xie Lian hears the tell-tale click of a gun’s safety being flicked off.
Jun Wu looks… bad. There’s no other way to put it. Xie Lian has never seen him so disheveled, cloths torn and face caked with dirt. And, frankly, he doesn’t care. Not when there’s a sick smile on his lips as he levels his gun at San Lang.
“I did warn you, Xian Le,” he says and the hair on Xie Lian’s arms stands up straight. “Now look what you’ve made me do. But never say I’m not merciful— I have a proposition for you.”
Xie Lian doesn’t answer, but his silence doesn’t dissuade the man. “It’s simple, really. You come back with me and I let your phantom go unharmed. Try to flee and I’ll shoot.”
Calm as ever, San Lang speaks slowly. “Yin Yu. You know the way. Lead them out.”
And Xie Lian knows San Lang means for him to leave too, but as smart as his love is he can be truly stupid in times like this. “Go with Yin Yu,” he agrees, feet firmly in place.
“Xie Lian—“ Feng Xin starts to argue and is immediately cut off.
“Go!” Xie Lian repeats, hoping they understand that there’s nothing they can do. That the most help they can offer is to not allow themselves to be used against him. And after a moment more of hesitation, they do. Their footsteps grow quieter until they can’t be heard at all, leaving the passageway silent.
“Your decision, Xin Le?” Jun Wu asks, breaking the quiet. He can tell San Lang is seconds away from doing something they’ll both regret, so he grabs the man’s hand, tracing his fingers along his palm.
“It’s okay,” Xie Lian assures him. Then, before San Lang can change his mind, he moves to Jun Wu’s side.
He’d wondered once, how San Lang could hide a blade on his person only to have it ready for use in his hand seconds later. Now he has his answer. It’s a small knife, short and thin enough to strap to one’s forearms. It was a bit awkward, transferring it from San Lang’s sleeve to Xie Lian’s hand without notice, but they manage.
“Good boy, Xian L—“
He doesn’t have the chance to finish before Xie Lian stabs the blade between his ribs. He staggers back a few steps in surprise, and Xie Lian doesn’t hesitate. His next attack slices through Jun Wu’s windpipe.
He can smell the smoke in the air now, and his hand is stained by another man’s blood. But San Lang twines their fingers together anyways. Together, they walk towards the surface.
They say that the curse of Xianle Opera House burned down with that old building, leaving only ashes in its wake. They say that a single corpse lies buried in the charred debris, the body of a man turned ghost who’d taken two lives in cold blood. The curse broke when he died, they say, But still no one buys the land. Who would take the risk? Such a purchase would only tempt fate.
It’s not until ten years later that someone is brave enough. The young merchant had appeared out of nowhere one day, going by the name Hua Cheng as he moves up through the ranks of the most wealthy. Too afraid to say it to his face, his competitors whisper among themselves. “What a fool,” they say. “That land will bankrupt him.”
Only Hua Cheng would be so cocky as to build a new opera house on the old one’s remains. It will end in tragedy, they say. His arrogance will be his end.
But there are more generous rumors, too, although few and far between. Some say he does it for love, that his husband is a lover of music and the opera is Hua Cheng’s gift to him. This gossip predicts no kinder an end for the young couple, but it will be a pity when it fails, they say.
So, it’s to everyone’s great surprise that the opera house is such an incredible success. Indeed, many try to seek out the couple after shows and ask their secret. But while one might spot an old stagehand with a young man trailing behind him, or two opera stars from another country over, or even a retired Primadonna and ballet master in the audience, the pair of most interest is never in attendance.
Perhaps, though, if one is lucky, they may hear the muffled sound of an organ being played long after the night’s performance comes to a close. Perhaps they may catch a sliver of the loveliest voice theyve ever heard. But the song would never be for them. From the depths of that opera house is music that exists only for its creators.
#hualian#tgcf#thank u phantom of the opera wiki I owe u my life#we will not be talking abt why this is 9k. it was supposed to be short. it was it was.#ti guan ci fu#heaven official's blessing
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Can’t You See That You’re Lost Without Me? - Chapter II
Nameless ghouls (Ghost Band) x Black!OC
Series Summary: Asteria is forced out of her home and old life, but maybe it’s for the better.
Chapter Summary: Asteria is offered a job and meets Papa.
Warning: Probably bad writing, idk what else.
I would love and very much appreciate any constructive criticism, please interact (like or comment, reposts if you really want to) if you enjoy. Comment or dm me if you want me to start a taglist.
I pull my curls into a bun at the top of my head, covering my hair with my shirt so it won’t get too wet. I showered, washing my face carefully, spending about thirty minutes in the warm water. When I get out, wrapping the fluffy towel around myself, I walk to the wardrobe, finding a dress identical to Jess’. Only now do I notice an upside-down cross embroidered above the right breast area.
My eyes widen, realizing what this means about the people I have recently encountered. I slip the dress on, relatively unbothered by the new information. If they were to kill me for a sacrifice or any other practice I was told satanists have, they would have done it already. Opening the two drawers at the bottom of the wardrobe find a pair of Mary Janes in one and black knee-high socks with two white stripes at the top in the other.
As I slip the shoes on, a knock rings through the room. I open the door to see Jess, right on time, she smiles gesturing for me to follow her through the hallway. As we walk I realize that the entire building has an old gothic style, from the windows to the arches. I stare at Jessica expectantly after she points out the way to the important room I need to be able to get to. Though it takes some time for her to notice my curious gaze, she soon begins to tell me about the ghouls.
“We have eight ghouls here in the abbey. Papa summoned them to assist him during mass, and rituals. They even help members that are higher up in the church with their tasks. They aren’t allowed near any others, however.” She says hesitantly, as though she is fearful of even mentioning the ghouls and what they do. She looks over and quickly notices my growing confusion. “As you may or may not have noticed, this is an unholy church of Satan. Papa Emeritus IV is the current Papa, his role in our church is similar to that of a priest in a holy church. Papa summoned the ghouls from hell to do all the things I told you they do around here.” I walk beside her silently as I process this information.
-- --
Jess soon walks off leaving me to my thoughts. I continue to walk through the halls, being broken out of my thoughts by my name being called from behind me. I turn to find a sister who holds a strong aura of authority. She motions for me to follow her before quickly walking away from me, I jog slightly to catch up to her. She leads me to what seems to be her office, filled with dark tones.
She gestures to a seat in front of her desk and I sit, awaiting information as to why she brought me here. She stares me down and I shift uncomfortably under her stern gaze, her intimidating aura worsening the deafening silence. She finally breaks the silence and tension addressing her reason for bringing me here, while holding a book in her hands.
“Do you wish to stay here? Long-term?” She asks, I think it over quickly, deciding that living in a satanist church is better than wandering aimlessly through the woods.
“I do, but may I ask some of the general beliefs of your church? I don’t want to be shunned again…” I trail off, my last moments in my old church. Sympathy flashes through her eyes before she clears her throat.
“Here, we give into sin and are accepting of everything, you will be accepted here. So long as you worship Satan, you will always be welcome here. If you wish not to, you are to leave once you have fully healed.” She states fluidly, as though she has said it a thousand times before. I blink at her processing all the information she gave me quickly, before making my decision.
“I’ll stay here, worship Satan and anything else you may ask of me. I’d never be opposed to the opportunity to join such an accepting religion.” I say, my gut telling me this is the best place for me.
“Great. You will need to take up a contributing role in the covenant, unfortunately, we only have one position open for the time being. It comes with many responsibilities, are you willing to take on a job that will be consistently demanding?” She questions now standing beside her desk, staring down at me.
“Yes.”
-- --
I stood in front of Papa, Sister Imperator having just introduced us. His face is covered in black and white makeup, which only put me off initially. He smiles down at me softly, sensing my nervousness.
“How are you doing, cara mia?” He asks me in a soft tone that calms my nerves quickly. His heterochromatic eyes stare at me with a hint of concern as they pass over the healing injuries on my face. I remain silent for a few moments, unsure of what my answer would be.
“Better than I have in a while, Papa,” I state shyly, not knowing how I am supposed to act around the important figure of the unholy church. I kept my answer short so as to not get scolded for rambling. Papa’s smile widens at my positive answer as he gestures for me to walk alongside him.
“Has your upcoming job been explained to you?” He asks as we walk slowly through the abbey, entering a part I haven’t been near before, though I haven’t been to many places here. I shake my head before answering.
“Not yet, though Sister Imperator did give me this book Liber Ghoulius Eorumque Historia, so I assume it pertains to them,” I say carefully, hoping I didn’t butcher the pronunciation of the book title. Papa glances at me, seeming to take notice of the book under my arm at this point.
“And how much do you know about our ghouls?” He presents another question, his tone becoming more serious with this question.
“I know that they were summoned here, by you and the Papas before you, to assist you with masses and that, at least from the only other member of the covenant I’ve met, they might be dangerous.” I list, thinking of the information Jess had given me. I glance up at Papa to see him looking back at me with his eyes widened slightly.
“You know more about them than I would have thought. You are correct in assuming they have the potential to be dangerous, which is why we keep them isolated from the covenant at most times.” He stops walking and fully faces me, his expression deadly serious. “Are you sure you wish to take this job? It will require you to be with or near them for most of the day, for almost every day of the week.” He informs me, staring deeply into my eyes, holding my hands in his, creating a tense atmosphere around us. Mulling it over in my head quickly, I decided to take the job, not really having anything to lose at the moment.
“I am, but you still haven’t told me what the job is exactly,” I say, breaking the intense eye contact.
“You will watch the ghouls, keeping them on time and on task when needed for the most part,” he states calmly, watching me carefully to gauge my reaction to what the job is.
“So I’m gonna be their manager or would it be more like their babysitter?”
#ghost band#nameless ghouls#papa emeritus iv#koifics#ghost band x oc#nameless ghouls x oc#papa and the ghouls#oc fiction#ghouls are hot
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Termite Thermal Inspections
Relevance Of Termite Inspections!
Termite examinations are a essential part of homeownership. These small pests can cause significant damage to a property if left uncontrolled. With their pressing appetite for wood, termites can silently eat away at the framework of a home, resulting in costly repair work. That's why it's critical to arrange routine termite examinations to catch any infestations early.
Where To Find Experienced Termite Professionals
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What Are Some Termite Obliteration Methods!
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For those who favor a more environmentally-friendly strategy, there are all-natural solutions available also. Vital oils such as clove, neem, and tea tree oil have actually been found to be reliable in warding off termites. These oils can be combined with water and splashed onto ravaged areas, hindering termites from creating anymore harm.
When it concerns termite eradication, it is very important to select a approach that matches your requirements and preferences. Whether you opt for baiting systems, fluid termiticides, all-natural solutions, or physical obstacles, the key is to take action prior to the termites have a chance to cause extensive damage. With the ideal strategy, you can guarantee that your home or building remains termite-free for several years ahead.
Find Out How To Get Eradicate Termites
Routine Termite Inspections!
Visualize a world where termites are no more a danger. Where you can rest peacefully at night, recognizing that your home is risk-free from these devastating pests. That's the power of routine termite examinations. By having a specialist come in and examine your property on a regular basis, you can catch any termite infestations early and take action prior to the damage ends up being serious.
So how typically should you have a termite examination? Well, it depends upon a few aspects. The age of your home, the environment you reside in, and whether or not you have actually had any previous termite problems all play a role in establishing the frequency of examinations. Normally, it's suggested to have actually an examination done at least once a year. Nonetheless, if you reside in an area with a high termite population or have actually had previous infestations, you might want to consider more regular examinations.
Useful Resources
While it holds true that routine termite examinations might feel like an added cost, consider the alternative: the cost of fixing termite damage can be staggering. By buying routine examinations, you're really saving on your own cash in the long run. It's a tiny price to pay now to stay clear of paying out thousands of dollars in the future. And also, catching an invasion early ways you can nip the trouble in the bud prior to it causes much more extensive-- and expensive-- damage.
Where To Find A Termite Control Company
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Coding Chronicles: A Day in the Life of a Programmer
In a world that is becoming increasingly digital, the role of a programmer has never been more critical. Whether you are working on building a new software application, maintaining existing systems, or solving complex problems with code, the life of a programmer is filled with challenges and excitement. In this article, we will take you on a journey through a typical day in the life of a programmer, shedding light on the tasks, routines, and experiences that make this profession both demanding and rewarding.
Morning Routine
For many programmers, the day begins early. They may start by brewing a cup of coffee or tea to help kickstart their brain before diving into the world of code. Some prefer to work from the comfort of their homes, while others commute to their offices or co-working spaces. Regardless of the location, the morning routine often includes checking emails and catching up on industry news and updates.
One of the day's first tasks is to review the progress made the previous day. Programmers often work in teams, so communication and collaboration are essential. They might participate in daily stand-up meetings, discussing their goals for the day and any roadblocks they've encountered. These meetings are a way to keep everyone on the same page and ensure the project stays on track.
Writing Code
The heart of a programmer's day is, of course, writing code. Whether they are developing a new feature, fixing bugs, or optimizing existing code, this is where their expertise truly shines. Programmers typically work with various programming languages and tools, depending on the project and their area of specialization.
Writing code is only sometimes a straightforward process. Programmers often spend considerable time planning and designing their solutions before they start coding. This involves breaking down complex problems into smaller, manageable pieces and creating a clear roadmap for implementation. Once the plan is in place, they can begin writing the code.
Coding can be an intense and focused activity. Programmers need to pay attention to every detail, as a single mistake in their code can lead to errors and unexpected behavior in the software. They often use integrated development environments (IDEs) and version control systems to streamline workflow and ensure code quality.
Problem-Solving
Programmers are problem solvers at their core. They encounter various challenges that require creative thinking and analytical skills throughout the day. Whether it's finding a more efficient algorithm, identifying the root cause of a bug, or brainstorming solutions to a complex technical issue, problem-solving is a constant part of their job.
Collaboration plays a significant role in problem-solving. Programmers frequently collaborate with colleagues, share ideas, and seek advice when facing complex problems. This collaborative approach not only helps find better solutions but also fosters a sense of teamwork and camaraderie among team members.
Testing and Debugging
Writing code is just one aspect of a programmer's job. Equally important is testing and debugging. Once the code is written, it must be thoroughly tested to ensure it works as expected and meets the project's requirements. Programmers use various testing techniques, from unit tests that check individual components to integration tests that verify the interactions between different software parts.
Debugging, identifying, and fixing errors or "bugs" in the code can be time-consuming and frustrating. Programmers often use debugging tools and techniques to trace the flow of their code and pinpoint the source of issues. Attention to detail and patience are crucial when debugging, as even small mistakes can have significant consequences.
Continuous Learning
The tech industry constantly evolves, and programmers must keep up with the latest trends and technologies. This means that a significant part of a programmer's day is dedicated to continuous learning. They may read documentation, watch tutorials, or take online courses to improve their skills and stay current with industry developments.
Programmers also engage in knowledge sharing within their teams and communities. They attend conferences, participate in forums and discussion groups, and contribute to open-source projects. This not only helps them learn from others but also allows them to give back to the programming community.
Lunch Break and Mental Breaks
Like anyone else, programmers need breaks to recharge and refocus. Lunchtime is an opportunity to step away from the computer, stretch their legs, and enjoy a meal. Some programmers prefer socializing with colleagues during this time, while others use it as a moment of solitude to relax.
In addition to a lunch break, programmers often take short mental breaks throughout the day. These breaks can involve a walk, a quick chat with a colleague, or simply gazing out the window. Such breaks can help prevent burnout and improve overall productivity.
Code Reviews and Collaboration
Collaboration is a central aspect of a programmer's work. In addition to daily stand-up meetings, they conduct code reviews, where team members inspect each other's code for quality, consistency, and potential issues. Code reviews provide valuable feedback and help maintain a high code standard within the project.
Collaboration also extends to discussions and brainstorming sessions. Programmers work together to find the best solutions to problems and decide the project's direction. Effective communication and teamwork are essential for a successful outcome.
Evening Wind-Down
As the day ends, programmers often wind down their work. They may finish any remaining tasks, document progress, and update project boards or lists. It's essential to leave the job in a state that allows for a smooth transition when they return the next day.
Many programmers are passionate about their craft and continue to work on personal projects or explore new technologies in their free time. However, balancing work and personal life is equally essential to prevent burnout.
A combination of creativity, problem-solving, collaboration, and continuous learning marks a day in the life of a programmer. Programmers are not just individuals who write lines of code; they are the architects of our digital world. Their dedication and expertise drive innovation and shape the future of technology.
Whether you are a seasoned programmer or someone aspiring to enter this field, understanding programmers' daily routines and challenges can provide valuable insights. It's a profession that demands perseverance, adaptability, and a genuine love for solving complex puzzles through code. So, the next time you encounter a piece of software that makes your life easier or a digital solution that impresses you, remember the dedicated programmers who worked tirelessly behind the scenes to make it happen.
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Pest Inspections And Eradicat
The Relevance Of Termite Inspections!
Termite assessments are a required part of homeownership. These tiny bugs can trigger considerable damages to a property if left unattended. With their pressing appetite for wood, termites can quietly eat away at the framework of a home, causing expensive repairs. That's why it's vital to set up routine termite assessments to capture any infestations early.
How To Find Experienced Termite Control Company
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What Are Some Termite Eradication Methods!
In the realm of pest control, there is a silent enemy that can wreak havoc on homes and structures alike. Termites, those tiny yet mighty creatures, have the power to turn solid frameworks into crumbling damages. Yet concern not, for there are cutting-edge and reliable approaches to remove these pesky bugs.
One such approach is the use of baiting systems. These brilliant contraptions draw termites with tempting food sources, just to deliver a deadly blow. The termites unconsciously carry the bait back to their nest, efficiently erasing the entire populace. It's a critical and efficient method to remove the threat.
For those that prefer a even more environmentally-friendly technique, there are all-natural remedies offered also. Important oils such as clove, neem, and tea tree oil have been located to be reliable in warding off termites. These oils can be mixed with water and splashed onto ravaged areas, preventing termites from creating anymore harm.
When it concerns termite removal, it is necessary to pick a approach that matches your requirements and choices. Whether you opt for baiting systems, fluid termiticides, all-natural remedies, or physical barriers, the trick is to act prior to the termites have a opportunity to trigger considerable damages. With the right technique, you can ensure that your home or building stays termite-free for many years ahead.
Learn How To Get Eradicate Termites
Regular Termite Inspections!
Envision a world where termites are no more a threat. Where you can rest peacefully at night, knowing that your home is risk-free from these destructive bugs. That's the power of routine termite assessments. By having actually a expert come in and examine your property often, you can capture any termite infestations early and act prior to the damages becomes serious.
So how commonly should you have a termite evaluation? Well, it depends on a few variables. The age of your home, the climate you reside in, and whether you've had any previous termite problems all play a role in establishing the regularity of assessments. Typically, it's suggested to have an evaluation done a minimum of yearly. However, if you reside in an area with a high termite populace or have had previous infestations, you may wish to take into consideration even more constant assessments.
Useful Resources
While it holds true that routine termite assessments may appear like an included expenditure, take into consideration the alternative: the expense of repairing termite damages can be incredible. By purchasing regular assessments, you're really saving yourself cash over time. It's a small rate to pay now to prevent forking over thousands of bucks later. And also, catching an problem early means you can nip the trouble in the bud prior to it leads to more considerable-- and costly-- damages.
Where To Find A Termite Control Company
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When you are busy in life, self-care often takes a backseat. When that happens, stress and fatigue tend to accumulate and eventually leads to burnout. The burnout could be physical or emotional, or both. Prioritizing self-care and putting your well-being on top can help reduce stress and promote positive, better physical, mental, and emotional well-being.
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Sam Riegel makes the crasiest shit happen and it works even if he just survives with one hitpiont.
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Previous Draft // Ao3
The courthouse doors open with a bang, and the sound of conversation tumbles out of the atrium and onto the courthouse steps. Security flanks Lena on either side, two uniformed bodies ahead to break the crowd, two behind to keep it from closing in around her. Lena keeps her head up, confident in the knowledge that she will appear to take this all in stride. In truth, she crosses the atrium in a sort of daze.
There are moments in a person’s life when time sticks and stutters, moments that linger beyond their natural boundaries, that creep and haunt and niggle at the mind. As she steps out through the courthouse doors, she understands that this is one of them. Time hesitates for her even as she passes into the chaos of lights and cameras outside, towards the waiting crowd of journalists shouting over one another in a fashion not conducive to anyone’s questions ever actually getting answered.
For an instant she’s back on the witness stand: the defense is demanding Supergirl’s name, and the judge is not intervening; the words I plead the fifth are heavy on her lips. That moment has passed, and it hasn’t. There will be ripples. All Lena can do about it now is try to keep those ripples to a minimum, for Kara’s sake; she must say nothing to anyone until they’ve had a chance to talk alone.
“Ms. Luthor.”
The officer at her side encourages her forward, not quite touching her back with one hovering hand. Lena realizes with a start that she’s paused halfway down the courthouse steps. At the bottom, Supergirl drops out of the sky in a dramatic, press pleasing fashion. That soft warm smile is another echo of the courtroom, and Lena is reminded that Kara intentionally slipped out of the courthouse another way and circled back for the cameras. Lena has, rather uncharacteristically, committed a critical error in a critical moment, and now Kara is covering for her with theatrics.
It’s working. The cameras turn on Kara as Lena makes it down the last few steps and into her waiting embrace.
“I’m sorry,” she begins, half stumbling as Kara pulls her close, closer than usual, one hand hot at the back of her neck.
Kara turns her shoulder to shield Lena from the bulk of the cameras. “Not here,” she murmurs, so low that Lena is almost not certain she’s heard it. And then Kara pulls back, not quite far enough, and Lena is acutely and self-consciously aware of the sound of camera shutters snapping all around them, the closeness of Kara’s body, the gut wrenching feeling that the eyes of the nation are on them and the stage lights are all lit up and she doesn’t know her lines.
The judge should have intervened. Her mind keeps catching on that point, on the heavy pause in the courtroom, Kara’s expressionless face, the pounding of her own heart, the irrelevance of the question. It feels as though if she stays in that moment long enough, pictures it clearly enough, the judge will step in and this story will play out another way.
Time, of course, does not work like that. It stutters and sticks only in her mind, while in the real world the press clamors and Kara’s cape flutters in the quickening wind.
“I’m so proud of you,” Kara is saying, her voice pitched so that the waiting journalists might catch words that, God willing, sound hollow to Lena’s ears only. “You were amazing in there.”
Lena is thinking about what the headlines are going to say tomorrow. Luthor and Super: Partners in More Than Crimefighting. Or perhaps, Luthor Makes False Marriage Claim on Witness Stand, Investigation to Follow.
Kara cups Lena’s face with one hand, and she snaps back to reality. She has about half a breath to catch up with what’s happening before Kara is closing the distance between them, and she hates to be a walking cliche, but oh. This is not how she has imagined their first kiss might go - not that she’s ready to admit to anyone except maybe Sam that she’s imagined their first kiss at all - and for a sickening second she feels nothing but regret. But then Kara’s lips are on hers, softer than her imagination has ever accounted for, and Lena is melting into her, kissing her back just at the edge of what might be considered chaste.
It’s an act, of course. If Lena’s heart flutters where she knows perfectly well Kara can hear it, can feel it, that’s just the nerves of the whole situation. Kara is, after all, kissing her on the mouth right there in front of God and everybody, shutters clicking all around them, reporters laughing and cheering in the background. It’s not unreasonable to feel a little something; her secret is still safe.
When Kara breaks the kiss, Lena chases after her mouth, and not for show. There’s that soft smile again, lipstick a little smudged, and perhaps she’s imagining things but Kara’s eyes seem warmer than they did before.
Kara drops a second kiss onto Lena’s forehead. “Can I take you home?” she asks, her voice still pitched for the journalists on the steps.
“Please,” Lena replies.
She tucks herself back into Kara’s chest as strong arms close around her. If anyone asks, it’s for the cameras. There’s a car waiting for her, and a driver who will have to be well compensated for the waste of his time, but it’s better if the press sees that she and Supergirl are leaving together, isn’t it? And nothing could be more memorable, more pressworthy, than flight.
And, Lena thinks, it’s better because, selfishly, she wants to prolong this moment of closeness. She wants to soak it all in: Kara’s smell, the brush of her hair across Lena’s cheek, the preparatory breath before takeoff. This is the moment Lena wishes would slow down for her, just this last moment when she can imagine to herself that what happened in the courtroom was a bad dream of little consequence, and that nothing between her and Kara will ever have to change.
///
Kara does not take Lena home. They fly instead over the wide arc of National City’s suburbs and into the foothills, and from there a little further still until they’ve reached the mountains above the city. Kara deposits them in a valley on the leeward side of a low peak dotted half with shrubbery and half with scraggled conifers, the names of which Lena has to admit she does not know. She rubs feeling and warmth back into her arms and resists the urge to ask where they are while Kara paces, the agitation and anxiety in the lines of her body a clear departure from the soft warmth on display outside the courthouse. When she rounds on Lena, it feels like the inevitable fruition of Lena’s mistakes.
“You told them we were married? Lena!”
“Technically I didn’t use those words.”
“Oh okay, so between my wife and my priest, which role did you think the court was going to assume you were alluding to?”
“What was I supposed to say? They had me backed into a corner.”
“It wasn’t relevant to the case! This was about Lilian. It had nothing to do-”
“It doesn’t matter that it wasn’t relevant, because the judge wasn’t intervening. I just- I panicked. I had to say something. I wasn’t going to lie under oath, and even if I were willing, what could I have said? Should I have thrown out some other name, thrown someone else under the bus? And what then, when it became obvious to the nation that I’d lied-”
“Oh, and you thought this was better? What are you going to say when they want proof? There’s no documentation. There was no wedding to document. Supergirl doesn’t exist as a legal entity, you can’t just-”
“Kara, I-”
“It’s just not like you not to think things through.”
They stand there staring at one another, Kara’s jaw clenched, Lena’s arms crossed tight across her chest. The sun is going to go down soon; Lena is already shivering a little in the shadow of the mountain. This is a mess, and it’s a mess of her own making, and she doesn’t know how to unmake it out here in the gathering dark.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I could have - I should have refused to answer. But then they’d have held me in contempt and thrown me in prison. And I’m willing to go to prison for you, Kara, believe me, but then you’d have broken me out because you’re a beautiful idiot, and where would that leave us?”
Kara’s mouth twitches up a little at the corners, and then she laughs outright. “I would have,” she admits. “What a mess that would be.”
“I know I messed up,” Lena offers.
“You were trying to protect me.” Kara scuffs one boot in the dirt. “They’ll try to hit you with perjury charges; you know they will. You might wind up in prison at the end of this anyway.”
Lena nods. She does know this. Some part of her knew it the moment the words I plead the fifth left her mouth, and yet, everything she’s protested to Kara is true. Those words were the only road open to her so long as that judge remained silent.
“Well,” Lena says, “You don’t grow up in the Luthor household without learning a thing or two about the loopholes of the legal system. Burden of proof lies with the prosecution; it would be very difficult to prove that a wedding didn’t happen.”
Kara tsks and turns on her heel to stare out over the valley. “Supergirl isn’t a legal entity. They could challenge you on the grounds that you can’t be legally married to someone who doesn’t legally exist. And if they found a judge more sympathetic to Lex than to you….”
“Not a difficult thing to find,” Lena admits. She stands in the fear and the evening chill for a long moment “I meant what I said, Kara. If I go to prison over this, so be it. Anything to protect you.” Anything for the woman I love, she wants to say, but Kara isn’t ready for that. Might never be ready for that. And neither, truthfully, is Lena.
Kara’s fingers have found the edge of her cape, and now she’s worrying at it in the fading light. She doesn’t look back at Lena for what feels like a long time, and when she does her expression is guarded. “I want you to promise me you’re going to hear me out before you say anything.”
“Okay….” Lena says. She tries to wrestle down her questions, her curiosities, her reservations. Anything for Kara, after all.
Kara takes a deep breath, looking for all the world like she’s readying herself to make a national address. “I have a terrible idea.”
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Obvious - A Kai Parker Imagine
Characters: Kai Parker x Reader
Word Count: 2285
Summary: Kai and the reader go to a party at the Salvatore house, but they can’t keep their hands off each other.
Warnings: Alcohol, suggestive comments, making out
Written by: Josie
A/N: First imagine! Really hope you guys like it, we’ll be posting more like this soon so be sure to check out our page to help us get going! x
Disclaimer: Gif isn’t ours - credit to who it belongs to.
Kai and Y/N didn’t have what was known as a typically conventional relationship. A witch with unlimited power and a somewhat insane siphon, both with a thirst for chaos and excitement? I mean, causing mayhem together isn’t usually on most people’s date night ideas list.
The Salvatore house was once again home to a massive Friday night party, courtesy of Caroline Forbes’ charm over Stefan, who reluctantly agreed to let her use their house as the venue. Only one of the couple was technically invited, as Y/N was best friends with the hostess. The others weren’t exactly thrilled at Kai appearing by her side with a wide grin when they arrived, but they wouldn’t object. For now at least. Not when he brought enough snacks and drinks for at least ten people.
A few drinks later, and the two witches were almost ready to let loose on the unsuspecting partygoers. What they were planning wasn’t quite as extreme as Kai would have wanted, but Y/N was able to convince him of something both fun, and that wouldn’t kill her friends or land them in a magical coma of sorts.
“Come on,” Y/N giggled as she dragged her boyfriend by the hand away from the snack table and toward the middle of the room. Kai eyed the food with longing as he was taken away from it like he was being torn from his soulmate. He kind of was, really. “Dance with me.”
Turning back to his girl, he raised an eyebrow at her flushed expression. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Only enough to give me confidence,” She turned to face him when she reached her destination in the middle of the crowd, having forced herself and Kai through various sweaty bodies. Kai got smacked in the face by a dancing drunk blonde on the way, but Y/N’s grip on his hand was too strong to give him the chance to get angry at her.
Kai smiled and pulled her close as she wrapped her arms round his neck, beaming up at him. “I thought you wanted to cause some trouble?” He smirked, leaning close as he spoke. Y/N was already a little tipsy, but having him this close made her feel completely intoxicated. He was stronger than any alcohol she could drink, and she never got hungover after a hit of him, she only wanted more.
“I do, but can’t we just act like normal people at a party for a bit? And besides, I like this song!” She swayed with him as the bass boomed through the speakers, making it all the more intense.
“You know I’m not all that much of a dancer.” Kai chuckled at her moves; she was so carefree once she let herself go and her smile was enough to pull at the corner of his lips.
“You liar,” She hit lightly at his chest and looked up at him with a challenging fire in her eyes. “You dance all the time at home.”
“Okay yeah, but that’s not in front of everyone else,” His eyes drifted behind her as she cocked her head in confusion. “And your friends are watching us.”
Y/N turned her head to the side, still latched onto her boyfriend, and caught Damon and Elena keeping a watchful (and definitely judging) eye on the couple. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to Kai. “Let them,” She spoke, reeling him in with her gaze. He was basically putty in her hand. “Just pretend we’re back at home, dancing in the living room, just like we do at the weekends.”
A smile crept its way back onto Kai’s lips as the memory flashed against his mind. Saturday nights were traditionally romantic - they’d cook dinner together, cuddle on the sofa and watch tv, then afterwards he’d always somehow end up twirling her around the room with the lights dimmed until they couldn’t dance anymore, and he’d carry her upstairs to bed.
“Unless,” Her voice by his ear pulled him out of his reverie, looking forward to tomorrow’s date night and thinking about how well he was going to treat her. “You fancied going somewhere else?”
The hair on the back of his neck pricked up at her words, eyes snapping to hers, pupils dilated. His signature smirk appeared, quickly melting her down. “You know me so well.”
Grabbing her wrist, their roles were reversed as he dragged her out of the crowd this time, eyes darting quickly as they searched for somewhere to hide.
“Here,” Y/N said, pointing to a small storage cupboard. “No one ever comes in here.”
“Well then,” Kai said, pushing her inside and closing the door behind them. “You’ll be the first.”
In a flash, she was slammed against the door as Kai’s lips moulded with hers in desperation. He had needed this all night. He might be an expert at hiding it, since emotions had never really bothered him before, but the critical gazes of her friends made him uncomfortable. They made him start questioning every move he made, just because he wanted Y/N’s friends to approve of him and be happy that she’s with him. Kai Parker would never let stupid emotions get to him. Not like love. At least, not until her.
She sighed into his mouth as he took her breath away, her hands gripping his hair tightly while his held her waist firmly in place. His fingers slowly trailed up her shirt, brushing the skin underneath, making her shiver. Breathing heavily, her hands found their way to his chest as he pulled away from the kiss and moved his lips to her neck.
“Eager, are we?” She giggled, her voice thin from the exhilaration. She felt Kai chuckle in response against her skin, sending a tingling sensation through her veins.
“Impatient, actually. I want you now.” Kai trailed his lips down to her collarbone, and back up to her jawline.
Y/N was finding it harder and harder to think straight as Kai pulled away, his fingers tracing the faint marks he’d left on her neck. I’ll definitely have to add to these later, he thought. “What about the plan? Still want to cause a little chaos?”
Kai’s hand that was on her neck moved behind and into her hair, her head automatically tilting up to make capturing his lips easier. “To hell with the plan.”
Leaning in for another heated kiss, their lips had barely met when the door of the storage cupboard swung open and the two of them fell to the ground with a good thump, Y/N groaning as Kai’s whole body weight crushed her.
“Seriously?” Caroline stood over the couple with her hands on her hips, looking mostly irritated yet somewhat amused. The twinkle behind her eye when she looked at Y/N gave that away - she was always the most supportive of her dating Kai.
The female witch glanced sheepishly up at her friend, lightly shoving Kai to the side. The siphon didn’t even want to make eye contact with the blonde vampire. He was yet to familiarise himself with how to deal with awkward.
“Y/N, I thought I said making out in dingy cupboards was off-limits! Raise your standards,” Caroline eyed her friend, the ghost of a smirk lingering on her lips. After looking briefly at Kai’s embarrassed expression, she leaned in closer to Y/N and whispered, “If you guys want to have some fun then just leave. The party’s starting to clear out now anyway, and it’ll be a lot more fun than in a dusty old closet.”
She winked at her and strutted back into the crowd, not before giving Kai a light pat on the shoulder on her way past. She was right, the crowd was slightly smaller than before.
“God,” Kai sighed. “That was awful. I don’t like awkward, it’s my least favourite emotion so far.”
Y/N laughed at her boyfriend; he still discovers himself experiencing new emotions all the time, and she finds it oh so endearing to see how he reacts to the foreign feeling. “Well if anyone was to catch us, I’m glad it was Caroline.”
The tall boy looked at the girl he thought was an angel, although she didn’t quite see herself that way. Sometimes that made him sad, another feeling he didn’t particularly enjoy. “Let’s just get out of here,” He said, taking her hand and intertwining their fingers, something she always loved. “Bring the party back home, just you and me. We can pick up where we left off and no one will even notice we’re gone.”
Y/N grinned, happy that they were always on the same page. She took a step forward, watching as Kai’s eyes lit up more and more the closer she got to him. Their sparkle seemed to be directly proportional to his distance from her. “You just read my mind.”
It wasn’t long until Kai was driving his silver car back to their shared apartment, one hand on her thigh as it always was. She was his comfort blanket no matter what, and physical touch was Kai’s love language, so even when driving he craved some contact with her to keep himself sane.
Mostly sane anyway.
Eventually, they returned to the warmth of their apartment and wasted no time in latching onto each other. See, that was the thing about Y/N and Kai. She might be his comfort blanket, but he was hers too. When they’re apart it feels like two separate parts of a magnet, aching to be able to touch, see, feel the other, so when that ache is satisfied, it’s like a force unlike any other, and pulling them apart proves difficult as neither of them wants to ever be away from the other.
Their love for each other was obvious, you’d have to be blind not to see it. The only reason Y/N’s friends tolerated Kai was because they couldn’t deny the clear adoration and care he had for her. They’d tell her Y/N, he can’t be trusted, he doesn’t feel, he can’t feel love, but when you witness a love like they have, how could you ignore it? They’d almost come to a silent truce: Kai stays out of trouble and never hurts Y/N, and they’d leave him be. It worked for them.
What they had said about him not feeling love was true though, before. Kai thought that love was a wasted feeling - relationships crash and burn everyday, he’d said once, so why would he let it waste his time if he can’t one hundred percent confirm that it would be for life? Y/N came into his life like a wildfire spreading through dry forest, this new and unusual feeling coursing through him at an alarming pace, and it made him want to scream. He couldn’t understand why he was unable to shake this one girl out of his head, it was distracting him and he couldn’t concentrate, it was a nuisance.
But as time went on and he started wanting to make sure she was safe and happy, it became less and less of a burden to him. In fact, he started to revel in it. Any excuse he could find to see her, he’d take it. Any chance to protect her, he’d be there in an instant. He actually started to care, which baffled him at first because Kai Parker doesn’t care. But as he looked at her then, wind blowing her hair around her face, he didn’t mind it. Maybe caring wasn’t so bad, if it was this one girl he cared about. He decided then that he would dedicate all his emotion to her, all his care, all his time, all his love.
Love. When Kai realised he was in love, he wasn’t sure if he was awake or dreaming. Love was pointless, he told himself so. But he couldn’t bring himself to lie to himself any longer. It may have been pointless to him back then, but not now. Now, his whole reason for living was to make this one girl happy, this one girl who had managed to change a man so set in his old toxic ways. He loved her.
Y/N wasn’t sure if she’d ever definitely know that she was in love. I mean, how can you really know? Everyone’s experiences with love are different, and all relationships vary, so there’s not one set formula for it. Love is complex, and that was scary to her, because she didn’t want to let someone in thinking they’re her soulmate, and they end up breaking her heart. She’d made that mistake before, and she didn’t want to let the wrong person get to her again. But with Kai, there wasn’t a single question or doubt in her mind. This, this was what love was supposed to feel like. All that fear of allowing the wrong person into her heart had vanished in an instant, because she knew there would be no one else ever again now that she had Kai. He had taken up residence in her mind and there was no space for anyone else. He was her person, she knew, it was obvious. She loved him.
Back in the apartment with the two of them getting lost in each other, those intense feelings resurfaced. In that moment, it was just the two of them: no problems, no death, no prison worlds. Only the crystal clear love they had for each other that everyone could see. It even got them a bit of a reputation in the local supernatural community as the couple that defeated all odds.
The sociopath who learned to fall in love, and the witch that taught him how.
#the vampire diaries#the vampire diaries imagines#the vampire diaries imagine#tvd#tvd imagines#tvd imagine#kai parker#kai parker imagines#kai parker imagine#kai parker x reader#chris wood
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So out of nowhere I was tagged and quoted by a SR shipper for a blog of mine posted in August of last year. Talk about throwback but, hey, gotta appreciate that level of snooping. 😉
Back in the day I actually used to encourage discourse amongst Inuyasha fans- both shippers and antis alike- but I've since realized that it's a lost cause. But for you, @feministmetalgreymon , I'll grant this exception. Just 'cause it's been a while so why the hell not. haha
I want to assure you, however, that nothing you say will ever convince me that Sesshomaru and Rin are meant to be together romantically or that the story intended it so. Nor will you find any validation here. You can ship them for all I care, but please for all that is good and holy while I have your attention try- I mean really try- to understand why it is so many of us Inuyasha fans are so against this pairing in the first place (newsflash: it's not about ship wars), and why we believe a romance between the two of them is completely and utterly out of character.
For those of you interested in reading this, the blog of mine in question that the above shipper mentions in their counter-argument is here for reference. It's titled "Jaken = Rin's Dad?" I'm going to try and keep this short, but I'm also making no such promises. After all, I'm not exactly known for my brevity. haha Now let's get crackin'!
Like you, feministmetalgreymon, did for your recent blog here where you took screenshots of mine to address certain parts, I will be doing the same and dissecting yours accordingly.
[Snippet 1]
I worked with kids for many years as a teacher, and many people in my family have too or still do. Two of them happen to be just over 5 feet which is quite short for the average adult woman living here. I've also worked alongside many a women of short stature, and never did I hear any of them complaining of issues with their students having difficulty differentiating them from their own peers just because they were short as well. I'm sorry but that's just ridiculous. Kids are quite smart and pick up on a lot more than you seem to give them credit for. Height is not the only characteristic they look at to determine who's an adult and who's not, and it's foolish to suggest otherwise. So unless you're a babysitter who's still in their teens and/or who has very childlike features or behavior then I'm afraid what you're getting at is total hogwash. This is just another example of how you shippers offer nothing of real substance to your reasoning, it's only ever cherry-picking or strawmanning from you guys. Stop deflecting from the real issues please, because this certainly isn't one and only winds up being a complete waste of time for all parties involved.
[Snippet 2]
Okay, calm down now. I wasn't insinuating that relationships between parents and children can't change over time in terms of how they get along. Of course that's possible, as all families experience their fair share of estrangement and abuse. What I was speaking about was in reference to the overall dynamic between the two. Because a bad mother or father can still be viewed as a parental figure to their child even if say they're not in said child's life anymore. Since Sesshomaru and Rin share a healthy bond- and just a friendly reminder that in my blog I even said that he doesn't have to necessarily be labeled her father but that a romantic relationship later would still be inappropriate- I didn't deem it necessary to address what you brought up. Plus, it kinda, umm, misses the point?? Please, let's stay on topic. And it's not captured in the screenshot, but stop acting like there isn't a small part of them that idolizes their parents at some point during childhood. Just like you mention later on how it's normal for kids to have innocent crushes on adults that they eventually grow out of? Well, guess what, the same concept applies here. Kids eventually learn that their parents are far from perfect and make mistakes too. Rin is so damn young in the OG series though that we never even get to see her reach that maturity level.
[Snippet 3]
LOL! Alright, okay, so the "unbreakable bond" bit you're mentioning was actually me quoting you sessrinners. Did you not catch that? I literally spelled it out. *sigh* The whole point I was making is that shippers like yourself make hypocritical and contradictory statements all.the.goddamn.time. One moment you guys claim that Sesshomaru and Rin were essentially strangers and meant very little to each other, only to say in the same breath a few seconds later that they were destined to be together and their bond is like no other. I agree, their bond is special, but why must that mean they're going to fall in love?
That is the root of the matter here. Too many animes/mangas have romanticized this older adult man & young girl growing up falling in love trope that it's become way too normalized and widely accepted across the world- and yes, in some cultures more than others. Sadly, you lack the awareness to recognize how this all works. You know how we know that? When we see that you shippers are so desensitized to sexualized images of girls in the media that you share posts like this one below which *subtly* imply a future romance although one half of that pairing is still just a child in the pic and then try and pass it off as cute. That's like super fucking problematic and it scares me that you can't see that (or deny you do). 🤢
After all that's said and done, Sesshomaru leaving Rin in the village with Kaede is to me the strongest indicator more than pretty much anything else he's done for Rin that proves he is her adoptive father. It's so funny to me how you somehow see the exact opposite though. 🤔 What I think is happening is that you got yourself on some squeaky clean ass shipper goggles fresh out of your little echo chamber. Because I hate to tell you, but what you're fantasizing is what you want to see and not what's actually there on screen or was written into the story. I'm strictly talking about Inuyasha and the manga of course. [For the TL; DR version skip to the last paragraph.]
Parents looking after their kids is what parents are supposed to do. A good parent will do anything to keep their child safe and ensure they are cared for, so what he did for her by leaving her there was in her best interests clearly. Besides, as a babysitter, you more than most people should understand that parents aren't always able to be there for their kids so sometimes others gotta step in to help. Haven't you heard of the saying, "it takes a village to raise a child?" Which in Rin's case is literally true! 😂 Sometimes kids are even sent off to stay with grandparents and that's who raises them instead. Or maybe they have to temporarily live with an aunt or uncle because their single parent's job requires they work out of town 4-5 days of the week so they're hardly home. But that doesn't mean that the parents care or love their kids any less, and it's foolish to assume that Sesshomaru must have thought very little of Rin simply due to the fact that he made the decision to leave her in the village. Come on, y'all are acting like he abandoned her there!!
It's just given the circumstances Sesshomaru finally came to learn that Rin traveling with him was no longer safe. I also like to think it's because he wished for her to live a more normal life and to learn how to fully trust humans again. Plus, continuing to travel with him as young as she was would have proven dangerous and unwise. Now for you to know all this and still manage to turn his past actions towards her while she was just a child into a romantic gesture is what boggles my mind. Regardless of how you look at it, from my perspective or your own, Sesshomaru is in the wrong. Either he's a father figure who impregnates his daughter at the young age of approximately 14. OR he's this man she used to travel with who maybe isn't a father to her but who nonetheless basically rapes her since kids her age can't consent to sex with an adult. Idk about you but it sounds to me like nobody here wins with either scenario we're given. In other words, you should be just as mad as we are. If only one side didn't choose to forsake their morals they know we both have in common for the sake of a ship. Welp. 🤷♀️
I agree, incest is disgusting but that's not the only problem we have with this pairing. A romantic bond forming between Sesshomaru and Rin would also constitute as grooming.
You realize that over the years he visited her in the village that he brought her gifts too and essentially watched her grow up right before his very eyes, right? I mean, I know you do, but I really shouldn't have to explain further why pursuing a romantic/sexual relationship with each other is plain and simple wrong. And before you say it's not because he didn't have any malintent, please understand that considering their history and power dynamic up to then that yes this is still considered grooming even if Rin supposedly "wanted it" or "made the first move." Whether you consider him her father or not, as the adult who took on a role resembling that of a caretaker in her early life- a critical developmental time for a child- Sesshomaru is obligated to turn down any advances by Rin and most definitely should not initiate any himself. As the first close adult figure she's had in her life since her parents died, it's unfathomable to imagine how Sesshomaru could go through with taking advantage of this young girl who was under his care and supervision since they met. To think he could be capable of betraying that trust sickens me to the core.
This. Now THIS is how a parent/guardian or a similar adult caretaker (babysitter, teacher, etc.) talks to a child. And, in turn, this is how some young children talk to adults. You'd be insane and delusional to deny it! We see it in our everyday lives, do we not? From where else do you think our stories draw most of their inspiration? Yes, obviously these fictional universes have aspects of fantasy that don't exist in the real world, but so how then do you suppose we're able to relate to them? The reason for that being is because these stories are written by people for people, so naturally there are going to be real life aspects embedded throughout. Sure, a little escapism doesn't hurt as we don't need to take everything so seriously, but ultimately we all need to recognize that the messages in the stories we tell matter. Most stories possess a combination of both light and dark themes, but when it specifically comes to the latter we gotta be careful with how we tackle this in children's media since kids are far more impressionable.
So if at the center of a story we have two of the main protagonists whose mom is basically their same age and to top it off she knew their dad when she was just a girl and who just so happened to help raise her, wouldn't you say that's beyond fucked up or at the very least so fucking weird? Like why would we think it's even remotely okay for our children to watch this garbage?? Really think about it. Try and be objective for once and think about how it would sound explaining this storyline to an outsider who's never watched IY or HNY. Well, antis have tried this before many times and we always get the same reaction: Ewww!
Like I said earlier, if you wanna ship it then fine, but 1) please stop seeking our approval or trying to change our minds - your ship wish came true didn't it, so why do you need us to validate it? 2) even though it's not canon, respect that we don't support this sequel portraying pedophilia in a positive light. It's harmful af to not only allow but glorify the continuation of sexualized images of young girls everywhere. And I shouldn't have to say this, but just because this trope is popular as you say does not make it right. Lolicon themes in the media have been an issue forever and it needs to stop. Yes, even some people in Japan or "the East" would agree. Shocker!
We're pissed off and rightfully so because Yashahime's TV rating is 14, not to mention it airs at the prime time kids in Japan watch TV after getting home from school. That's Towa and Setsuna's age, true, but if Rin being the mom when she's like only a year older than them (please don't argue w/ me about the math- antis have so far been right every time with it) is straight-up disgusting and not something we should be supporting or endorsing. Rin's a whole ass child!! Please don't start with the "but times were different then so her having kids at 15 is acceptable" argument either, because we've already debunked that and every other single excuse you guys throw at us. Besides, how or why would you expect young viewers to know these historical "facts" anyway, especially if as you suggest fiction doesn't affect reality so what does it matter? Yet here we are, arguing over a fictional show in real life almost a year and a half into the "Sesshomaru fucks?" sequel being announced. My ass, your ass, hell all our asses fiction doesn't affect reality!
Look, I do apologize if the tone of this blog came off as snippy or condescending at times. I do not wish you any ill will, it's just I'm not really sure what you expected to get out of all this besides maybe getting on my nerves perhaps. haha A lot of you shippers have been desperately scrambling to interact with us, lurking in our tags, jumping onto our posts screaming canon and getting so defensive even though you sought us out first. We've been sticking to our tags, so how about you stay in your lane too. By the way since we're on the topic, have you seen Twitter or Reddit?! SR shippers there are the actual worst and many Inuyasha fans (not just antis) have complained of not feeling welcomed to engage in fandom spaces anymore. Shippers swarm them and scare them off simply because fans don't like your ship and refuse to accept it. It's pathetic, really. No one should ever be bullied or harassed just because they don't like something you might. We're all fans of Inuyasha, aren't we? So let's act like it. Yashahime on the other hand, you guys are welcome to that pungent heap of trash. Fans have a right to criticize it too, but if you like it then good for you, so keep on liking it and don't mind us.
I'm almost done, but real quick back to Jaken! Let's not forget about how the official Yashahime website- which came out after my blog, mind you- described Jaken. This translation isn't the best one available but it's the only version a fellow anti friend could track down. They do recall a better one done by a native Japanese speaker who was also an anti, and that member confirmed that Jaken is indeed called Rin's babysitter. So you see, I was right in my interpretation. In the original post I did compare Jaken to a brother, but after talking to others (some comments can be found under said post) I did acknowledge that he's more of a reluctant babysitter who's not related. And if he's not at least a brother to Rin, then he's definitely not her father.
At the end of the day, the creator Rumiko Takahashi has the final word. Which is guess what? Hogosha. 💖 Probably should've just started out with that and saved us all the trouble, huh? Good day/night to you.
Papamaru bids you adieu now. 🤞
#anti yashahime#anti sessrin#sesshomaru is rin's dad#papamaru#hogosha 💖#the sequel may not be canon but sunrise can still burn in hell
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Do you have any thoughts on how the guardian role is handled lore wise? Would you change much about being the guardian?
Oh yes I do and there's so much that I would change up.
The more we see of the Guardians, the dumber they are and the more pointless they are. To a point it's a wonder if they were worth the inclusion as they don't amount to much and are just useless. I'm putting this undercut as I just go off.
- Lore wise, they set it up that adults are naturally more powerful, so why did Fu pick two kids to fight his battles for him? Why not adults? Why did he leave them on their own instead of offering them some means to have an edge over HM?
- Of the Ladybug and Cat, we have yet to see anything unique that the Cat brings to these fights that the other 15 miraculi that Fu has with him couldn't do. You need a distraction that's going to mess up the akuma? Monkey and Fox. You need a protector/aggressor? Bee, Turtle, or Dragon. Ladybug is a must as its the only cleanser so far and has ML to boot, but Cat doesn't need to be out there, and as soon as HM had quite publicly stated that he wants LB and Cat, Fu should've reclaimed the Cat immediately to secure its safety and that HM won't get both. Another or two could go out to replace it.
- Why was picking Adrien a good idea? If Fu had just arrived in Paris, ok, but Backwarder reveals he's been living in Paris for a while. And with that, he's seen Adrien's face everywhere.s Adrien is potentially the most well known kid in Pari. Technically, for Fu's want of secrecy, why pick the most iconic face in Paris to get a miraculous? That sets up one of your heroes to always have attention on him. Fu picking Adrien doesn't make any logical sense.
- Why is Fu ok with endangering one kid but not the other? Why does Marinette get a test set up that risks her life and Fu's if it hadn't gone well and Adrien just helps an old man up, a common decency that most would do. It's like two extreme differences that don't work well in comparison as Marinette gets the risky test and Adrien it looks like he got his miraculous on a silver platter as he got the far easier one that takes the least effort to be a decent human being.
- Fu being a terrible mentor and hero picker in general and the whole shebang with Syren. If Adrien is not meeting his standards or if he doesn't trust Adrien at all, why is Adrien being allowed to continue as a hero? Or if he really wants Adrien to stay, why isn't he doing anything about Adrien? Why isn't he telling Plagg to encourage Adrien to step up and get serious? If he can take on the role of being Adrien's Chinese teacher, why not do that to try and guide Adrien to improvement so he can also be trusted with Guardian secrets too and truly help Marinette out. He's got two options when he doesn't trust Adrien or finds that he's meeting his standards: he takes the miraculous back or he addresses this issue himself.
- I also call big BS about him not doing anything at all when he comes upon Adrien detransformed on the roof with Plagg. Cause he's risking himself going out to find Chat Noir only to find him detransformed. That realistically should raise some brows and concern him. Adrien at least should've gotten a lecture or warning.
- Also the reveal that kwamis aren't allowed to know about their own power. that to me is off putting. It really stresses that kwamis are beneath them, these very ancient and powerful beings that have probably seen a lot. And canon validates it by making them children (which to me is the writers being lazy so they don't have to do complex characters).
- The whole thing with Fu's backstory. Dumbest backstory I've ever heard and it just paints Guardians in a really bad light, and by extension, real life monks. Monks didn't go to people's homes to take children. If they did take kids with them, those kids had nowhere else to go and offered them a place to stay until old enough to be on their own. And that test, omg, wtf. Ok, I can get the idea of a test of temptation, but there are other ways to perform it without starving a kid. Especially leaving said kid alone unsupervised with 19 powerful miraculi two of which have wish granting abilities. How would the Guardians even know if Fu used a miraculous as they left him alone with mriaculi. If Fu wanted to, he could've made a wish to never be picked.
- Fu didn't even do shit when he finally had a chance to face off against HM. He just sat in his damb ball and allowed himself to get knocked around. At least try and roll over him! Be a ping-pong ball! DO SOMETHING. Like, why did you even pick Turtle??? Turtle wasn't able to do anything against Butterfly! I thought it could as Fu had been ready to go in Origins, plus the 5 are based off Wu Xing, by set up, Fox and Turtle should have some sort of an edge over the Butterfly. But I guess that means there could be other options aside form LB and we can't have that, Marinette's miraculous needs to be the only thing to take on the Butterfly to really stress on the fact that it comes down to only her.
- The memory wipe thing that's an apparently must when you retire from being the Guardian. Honestly I think that should've been saved as a last resort if you're ever captured and could be forced to leak info, not when you retire. Doing so removes a valid source of advisement that a new Guardian can rely on. History is there to learn from it and this tradition removes a source of history to learn from, either from having guidance or seeing what the old did and how you want to change things. This also makes me concerned as I see Adrien taking advantage of an amnesiac Marinette.
- I went off about the NY Special revealing there's more Orders here.
- And lastly, Su-Han, the other Guardian to see aside from Fu. And with him, it solidifies how stupid they all are. When the Butterfly is being misused in Paris, why is someone aggressive and judgmental coming to Paris? Why is this guy even working with kids when he doesn't like kids? And the reveal that Guardians don't use miraculi at all. That just makes that test all the dumber with testers being unsupervised. And for Guardians not meant to use miraculi, how come Marinette gets a nice perk as LB that she can pull a miraculous out of her yo-yo? They're probably playing that she's "the first" to do so but realistically, I'm pressing x to doubt. In the long history of miraculi and when Guardians were around, you expect me to believe that Guardians never used miraculi themselves? What if there was no one to turn to, do they just the disaster happen? ...Well, based on how terrible canon is setting them up, I wouldn't be surprised.
SO.
There is a lot I would change up about the Guardians and for this, I'll adjust canon.
- Adrien gets the ring another way, maybe a gift from his mom or aunt or grandparents. Realistically, there's no logical reason for Fu to pick Adrien. He just has too much attention on him and Chat being an unexpected miraculous user can make him wary, adding to him only trusting Marinette.
- I'd have Fu be more present in Marinette's life, a customer who comes in a lot. This way he can offer advise when needed but not take away from Tikki. And this has him more closely keeping an eye on things.
- I'd change up Fu's backstory. He got separated from his family in a flood, the previous Turtle saved him, tried to help him find his family and with no luck, took him to the Temple, but only the section where other orphans are where they work to help take care of it, oblivious to the miraculous near them. After a year, Fu is one of the few selected to be entrusted with miraculous knowledge. He's surprised but not all that for it as he'd rather go find his family still. Idk how Temple falls but its not that. That was just dumb and avoidable.
- I wouldn't have Adrien meet Fu at all. In truth, it actually could've been cut out entirely as Adrien meeting Fu didn't amount to anything. He doesn't help with Guardian duties, doesn't help pick heroes, hasn't stepped up at all in his role as a partner. And he's not as torn up about Fu's loss as Marinette is. Adrien meeting Fu was pointless in the grand scheme of things. Nothing was progressed or changed from Adrien meeting Fu.
- I'd have HM ONLY getting an edge on Fu because Mayura was there to help him, catching Fu off guard. I want to see the Turtle truly in action, to see what else it can do cause sitting there to be smacked around was just unimpressive. And if Asstruck even did as much research as he could, he'd know that in Chinese mythology, the Turtle is a boss. It's the keeper of history and symbol of immortality, and it's up there with Tiger as an animal that can go toe to toe with the Dragon. And of the Four Symbols (associated with 4 seasons), the Black Turtle is also known as the Black Warrior. There should've been a lot more to Turtle than just sitting in your shell and allowing yourself to be knocked around.
- Su-Han I'd drastically change up. I'd keep in him being critical and stern, but he approaches things smartly and patiently. Before he dives into aggression and accusations, he wants to know what's going on. Why does this 14 yo have the Miracle Box? How was the Butterfly obtained and misused? And what the hell is going on??? How are these people so small and how did they get into this thin glass box?? Computer? What's a computer??? Essentially, have fun with the fact that Su-Han is essentially a time traveler and one great bonding experience to have with Marinette while also offering some good comedy is him learning about the modern time and her acting as his guide. Su-Han can give her guidance that Fu hadn't been able to give, and Marinette can offer her own in a way that Su-Han will need. Which by extension could remove Marinette having a near mental breaking point and revealing herself to Alya, and could avoid some of that drama of what's coming.
- Speaking of which, Adrien. I'd use Su-Han to finally address the issues with Adrien as a hero and partner. Su-Han prioritized Marinette as she has the Miracle Box, but Adrien is someone he'd take the miraculous away from. Adrien would get a very clear warning and call out for his actions and role.
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