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lordseochangbin · 4 years

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Do you think you could write a rich kid!reader x pool cleaner hyunjin smut?? I just thought of the idea and my legs immediately felt like jelly dndkddkdk

not the only thing that’s wet- hhj

a/n: so this came out longer than expected sksk. also i wanted to add some humor(not even sure if it’s funny) but just know anything said abt the members is fictional lmfaoo. hope you enjoy !

——

“i swear to god.. i just need some fucking hot ass man to take my virginity! like how hard is it?? im rich, im sexy, im pretty?? now how hard is it to find a guy?!” you ranted out to your friends ruby and lea.

the two girls watched you pace around the room, “y/n, how about we make a list?!” lea suggested.

you turned around in excitement, “a list?! hmm throw out some names”

lea took out her phone, the three of you left to think about some of the finest men at your school.

“bang chan” lea threw out.

“oh my god no! he’s too much, i heard he fucked this girl till she cummed 7 times” ruby said

“7 TIMES?!” you and lea exclaimed. fuck, bang chan. you could only imagine dating him, but maybe not for a first time.

“ok... kim seungmin?” lea threw out.

“you mean small dick?” ruby retorted.

“how do you know that?” you asked ruby, actually curious. you received quite the obvious laugh in response, as if ruby was taken way back to when she was once in love with one of the cutest boys in the academy.

you pushed your custom made louie vuitton purse to the side, making room to sit down and contemplate about any other guy at your school.

“how about han jisung??” lea suggested once more.

ruby covered her mouth in shock, “oh no no no, that guy is too kind to just fuck around. plus i called dibs on him awhile ago”

you and lea kept eye contact, dropping your head in disappointment as another guy was crossed off the list.

“ruby.. who do you think would best suit for me?”

ruby looked up to the roof, her mind elsewhere as it always seemed to be. you loved ruby and lea, growing up with the two girls being honestly the biggest blessing you could ask for. but ruby was of a different character. one day she’d talk about the ingredients in a mcnugget and the next she’d be rambling about how pink is a sexy color for lingerie. lea and you seemed to be the closest however, she was always there for you no matter what and you loved her more than anything.

“i say.. lets go online and find some random stranger to set you up with. boom. we’ll pay him and just hope and pray that he’s some hot 18 y/o” ruby replied, putting her hands together to “pray” to the lord(seo changbin)

“ruby...” lea pushed her a little so she could snap out of her position, “that’s a terrible idea” the three of you bursted into laughter

when the laughing died down, you got up from your seat shrugging your shoulders as your walked out to your clear glass windows. “but guys, i really don’t know. should i just wait? i am ‘daddys rich little angel’ anyways” you replied sarcastically.

lea rolled her eyes, grabbing your ray banz glasses and throwing them on you. “cheer up okay? we’re gonna make this happen i swear”

ruby popped up on your right, grabbing your hand and petting it. “don’t worry, god gave us one life, and we should live it with faith. faith that we will live to see a wet pen-”

“RUBY-” lea interrupted.

“it’s alright guys” you patted both of their shoulders, “it’s not like some attractive guy is just gonna show up out of nowhere”

you smiled at the two girls who did an amazing job of cheering you up before opening the glass doors to the patio of your mansion home. taking a few steps outside, you noticed a white truck pull into the driveway. your dad waiting by the pool as a boy wearing simply a white tee, blue ripped jeans, and sport shoes came out.

“holy shit” lea cursed under her breath

all three of your jaws dropped as the boy walked towards your father, a hand brushing through his luscious black hair as the wind passed by him with perfect timing.

you lowered down your expensive glasses to get a better look of him, “now who may this fine fellow be”

ruby smirked, “i bet his weewee is the size of-”

“ruby, what is up with you and dicks today i swear to god” lea questioned, all attention that was once on the pretty boy now concerned for your friend

“im sorryyy” ruby sarcastically replied, “i just know a good one when i see one” she said, sending a wink your way.

“who is he?” lea asked as you watched your dad point at the pool

“how much you wanna bet he’s some rich guys son who’s complimenting his pool right now?” ruby asked

“none.. look at his hands. cleaning supplies” you replied.

“y/n!! that fine ass man... he’s your pool cleaner” lea called out to your attention.

————

your dad knocked on the door before welcoming himself in. “hey girls, im off to a meeting. do you need money for lunch?”

“no that’s alright, they were just leaving” you replied

“we were?” ruby replied. you turned around to give ruby the death stare before ruby could continue, “oh yes!! we are QUITE busy mr.y/l/n!”

“i see...” you father responded, “ well y/n if you’re home alone i just want to let you know that there’s a pool cleaner outside working. im off”

your dad closed the door before you could drop the blanket you covered yourself with. “that was close” lea responded from behind you as you threw on a robe to cover up your swimming suit.

“so close.. now should i try this out?”

“go for it, we’re upstairs if you need us” lea said, joining ruby on your bed and turning on the tv. you took a deep breath, mustering up the courage to talk to the boy and eventually finding yourself in front of him speechless.

“hey... were you planning on going in the pool?” he asked, puppy eyes almost shining under the summer sun as he looked at you apologetically, “im cleaning it right now but you can dip your feet at the least” he suggested.

you found yourself awestruck at how handsome he was.. his arms, his jet black hair, his perfect jawline, and the way his white tee stuck to his washboard abs.

“yeah.. sure” you managed to let out in a shaky voice.

the boy continued with his business despite your arrival, making your frustrated due to lack of discussion. minutes seemed to pass quickly and it made you impatient.

“so what do you find attractive in a girl?�� you asked, turning to the boy

he rose his eyebrows at the sudden interrogation. “a girl.. hmm. maybe a girl who’s a tease? likes to flirt? sexy?” he laughed as he threw a towel over his shoulder

“hmm..” you hummed to yourself, kicking your feet in the water. “and what’s your name?”

“my name? i think i told your dad already, it’s hyunjin”

from there, your two friends were able to finish two films, curious about your whereabouts but scared to check outside knowing your intentions. but that wasn’t the real reason you two took so long, once the conversation started to speed up you’d learned that hyunjin was a college student trying to make extra cash to pay off his tuition by cleaning pools. he sat down as well, his jeans rolled up so his feet were kicking beside yours.

“so hyunjin... like you said. you like girls that are attractive, sexy, and flirty?” you asked

“why? you think you have all three of those? maybe you hit attractive and sexy at the least” he replied, earning a splash of water to his face.

“stop! your gonna get my hair wet” he replied, laughed at your sudden lash of anger

“im sure your hair isn’t the only thing that’s wet” you replied, placing a hand on his knee. the sudden affection made his plush lips part, a perfect situation for you to jump on his lap. and that’s exactly what you did

“y/n” he moaned as your lips clashed together with his. your legs found themselves wrapped around his, your position slowly making your robe tie loosen and revealing a pretty red swimsuit inside.

“do you find me attractive now?” you whispered into his ear as you tugged onto his hair, exposing the pretty surface of his neck to place kisses on

“so fucking sexy y/n.. please” he muttered as you left marks on his flawless skin

his hands wrapped themselves around your waist before you two could slip into the pool.

“shit- y/n im so sorry” he said as carried you to the seated area of the pool before combing his wet locks with his fingers

“its okay” you gasped in relief, catching your breath as you sat on his lap again.

hyunjin smirked as you slowly removed the robe, making him pull off his shirt to pull you closer

“now look at us babygirl, a pretty wet mess” he said, pushing a piece of stranded hair to the side before places kisses down your neck. he left marks from your jaw to your chest, throwing the swimsuit off as his fingers toyed with each nipple. your hands tugged at his wet jeans as he slowly pulled them off, leaving you both with nothing- just as you had planned.

you wrapped your hands around hyunjins neck, rolling your hips against his member as sinful moans left his lips. soon you felt his member stretch passed your wet folds making you dig your nails into his pure skin

“y/n... we just met today and you’re making me-”

you bit his bottom lip making him whimper. the friction was hard to handle even when you were underwater, the water made it easy for hyunjin to pull in and out of your pussy at rapid pace.

god, was this amazing. especially considering it was your first time and you needed it to be as easy as it could get. you blessed whatever deity up there for making such a handsome man like hyunjin and for making him a pool cleaner out of all things, sex in your pool was so much more hotter (ironically) than it seemed.

and at last, when you were ready to release you let you let go of hyunjins lips. “this feeling...” you whispered, “hyunjin i think im gonna cum” hyunjin grabbed your waists with a tight grip, making you bounce up and down on his member at an unbelievably fast pace.

“let’s cum together baby” he said, pushing you into a deep kiss

and before you knew it you were coming inside him, your first experience not ending just there as he reached his high slowly after

“hyunjin”you panted, grabbing your robe from behind him.

“thank you” you continued, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“you planned this all along huh? to prove you were sexy, i love it” hyunjin replied, grabbing your robe and throwing it somewhere far away.

your ass rested on his cock as he felt your legs wrap tighter around him “if you’re really thankful, then let’s just stay like this?” he asked

“deal” you said, resting your chin on his shoulder as you feel asleep in the lukewarm water.

#wow this was longer than expected #this concept omg #shitty ending oops #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin imagines #stray kids hyunjin smut #hyunjin stray kids #stray kids smut #skz smut #hwanghyunjin #skz imagines #stray kids suggestive #skz suggestive #stray kids imagines

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langdxn · 5 years

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sanctum | pre-outpost!michael x fem!reader

SUMMARY: What happened in the 18 months before Michael arrived at Outpost 3. I’m driven by filling in plotholes and this one intrigued me the most. This is my first fic so constructive criticism is more than welcome!

WARNINGS: More fluff than Build-a-Bear, pregnancy and mentions of children, trauma.

WORD COUNT: 1.8k - it’s pretty short for a first attempt but I was cautious about rambling for too long.

“I’m just going to Outposts 1 and 3 to check on their security, my little dove. I’ll return as soon as I can,” Michael breathed into the shell of her ear, scooping his arms around her waist from behind. Protectively placing her hands atop his statement rings and dipping into her shoulder, she clung to his touch as if it were the first time they met.

“I’ll miss you,” she sighed, tracing gentle, reassuring circles over his rings with her fingertips, “we all will.”

Her eyes darted across the room to the dark wooden crib, elaborately carved by her husband’s delicate hands as they waited in Outpost 2 for the right time to execute the next phase of his father’s repopulation plan. She recalled all the days and nights she passed his office expecting to find him nose-deep in important Cooperative paperwork, but instead her eyes fell upon him hunched over a carving knife and a mahogany branch. Stepping towards his desk and deftly sweeping up the discarded shreds of bark that littered the office floor, she examined the intricate flames he was crafting into the wood, her heart igniting with love to the point of implosion.

Sixteen months had passed since they first met in Outpost 2, nestled in a bunker in Beckley, his cerulean eyes meeting hers across the radiation decontamination chamber. She was the grey assigned to spray down his clothing as he entered the hideout, he was the mysterious Mr Langdon everybody immediately feared without really knowing why - everybody except her. She was assigned to the outpost after years of faithful service to the Satanic Church despite her kind nature, after all, nobody was perfect. She hadn’t remained a grey for long as she fell pregnant immediately after her first romantic meeting with Michael on his office desk, scaling the ranks from a mere servant to the outpost’s first lady due to the unplanned yet nonetheless welcome development in their new underground world. Out of the darkness above ground came the new life between the Antichrist and his angel.

“I promise I’ll come home to you and the boys.” He gently lowered his palms to meet her burgeoning bump, reminding himself of how much her womb had provided for him, one heir and another on the way in a matter of weeks. Not long after the arrival of their firstborn son, Damien, Michael and Y/N celebrated their status as new parents in the only way they knew how — between the sheets. The next morning, as they lay basking in the afterglow of an intense night of pure intimacy and love, Michael placed his hand on her abdomen and felt a new life once again.

If she had met the incarnation of Michael that chaired Cooperative meetings months earlier, she would never have stayed. The dictatorial, power-drunk Antichrist with his show-stopping red leather gloves and ominous black coat mellowed immeasurably at the mere suggestion of a family of his own. After the disastrous upbringing he endured, Michael refused to allow such a future for his own children, insisting on catering to Y/N’s every whim at any time of day or night. She gave him purpose, a reason to fight, a family to defend from the wasteland above ground. That said, if he had met her and her calming demeanour a month earlier, he would never have initiated the Apocalypse in the first place.

“Travel safe, please baby? We’ll be right here waiting,” she clasped her hands over his on her abdomen, willing herself not to shed a tear in front of him. The journey ahead of her husband would be treacherous, relying on a solitary pair of horses to carry him between the two outposts and back home again. He had only made this same voyage once since they first met, she had dreaded this day ever since but had remained strong for Michael and their growing family.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he whispered solemnly, snaking his arms around her waist and turning her to face him. As he planted his hands back on her bump, he dropped gracefully to his velvet-clad knees in front of her to level with his new life.

“Daddy’s going to be right back, little one. Don’t go making an appearance before I get back, you hear me in there?” He leant his forehead against the bump and closed his eyes, focusing on the strong heartbeat booming inside. He turned his head to face the crib where the blissfully sleeping Damien lay behind its bars, silently deciding not to wake him before he left so Y/N didn’t face another three hours to attempt to calm his cries.

“Let’s renew our vows when you come home,” she suggested as he rose to his feet. Michael beamed from ear to ear and nodded in agreement, while his eyes flashed with her thoughts of their wedding in the outpost just before Damien arrived. A dark affair of course, his bride wore black, an endlessly elegant gown cascading into a deep blood red as the taffeta reached the floor. Michael was always dressed for a wedding so he donned his favourite matching velour dress suit, with a single black rose threaded through his lapel. Fellow Outpost 2 residents Jeff Pfister and Mutt Nutter served as best man and maid of honour respectively. Y/N mercifully allowed her maid to attend without the embarrassment of a dress, Mutt’s unusually groomed beard offsetting his velvet suit in a most uncomfortable display for the typically slothful office-dwelling creature.

Silently acknowledging the urgency of his timely departure, Michael placed a deep, haunting kiss on Y/N’s lips as he ran his fingers through her raven black hair for one last time. Without the strength to say a proper goodbye, he closed his eyes and turned on his heels to charge out of their bedroom door. He wanted so desperately to look back, but then he might never leave.

The cold breeze grazing her bump signalled his departure and as she watched his angelic curls and velour coat tails make their way to the exit, she whispered to herself.

“Please don’t go."

———

Michael spent an arduous, mind-numbing fortnight examining the security procedures at Outpost 1 in New York. There was to be no unofficial communication with the ominous blonde Cooperative representative for the duration of his stay. Agents and informants flitted in and out of his makeshift office during the day, while the night would be spent alone in his quarters catching up on sleep or waiting to communicate with his wife after she finished her official duties in his absence. Tonight, a knock on the bedroom door broke the aching silence.

“Mr. Langdon,” a stern voice called from beyond the door. Michael could barely contain his rage at being disturbed when he had important emails to write, particularly one to his wife to let her know he was thinking of her and would be home soon. “A message has arrived for you, sir.”

She’s sent me a carrier pigeon? Michael thought, wracking his brains as to why his wife would require the archaic communication format over a simple email. Had the power gone down at the outpost? Was there something wrong with the baby? Had their son arrived too early? He slammed his laptop shut, rushing to swing open the door and nearly bumped into the grey behind it, holding a small copper tube in his hand.

“Give that here,” he hissed as he grabbed it impatiently from the grey's clutches, his hands shaking as he fumbled to find the end of the scroll inside, yanking it completely out of its casing. As Michael’s eyes laid upon the Cooperative’s signature obnoxious font filling the small sheet, his heart sank.

OUTPOST 2 HAS BEEN OVERRUN. CANNIBALS HAVE RAVAGED THE COMPOUND. MR. JEFF PFISTER AND MR. MUTT NUTTER ARE HEADING FOR THE SANCTUARY. INITIATE SANCTUARY RELOCATION IMMEDIATELY.

No word of his wife and children.

Michael's mind was already halfway to West Virginia before he shoved the grey out of his path and barrelled towards the exit. Throwing on a radiation suit as fast as he could on the way, he unchained his black horses from the Outpost gates and hurriedly connected them to the front of his bleak carriage. Bundling himself into the back, he cracked the driving whip furiously in a blind rage.

——— A month later ———

The foreboding gates to the Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men bowed to the presence of Michael’s carriage through the toxic mist, issuing a welcome to the last remaining sanctum, Outpost 3. Two figures in dark radiation suits paced towards his vehicle wielding archaic weapons, Michael exited the vehicle and aimed his Cooperative identification card in their view.

“Tend to the animals,” He dismissed in the direction of the figure he assumed to be Ms Mead, pacing towards the familiar school entrance. He would not be needing their assistance anymore.

His initial day of formalities and informing the outpost’s population of the developments outside of the confines of the former academic institution culminated in a meeting with the outpost’s leader, Ms Wilhemina Venable. Ushering the lavender-clad woman into the gloom of his office beside a roaring fire he conjured minutes earlier, Michael swallowed hard as he prepared to inform her of his journey that lead to Outpost 3. The length and trauma of the journey had hardened his resolve, returning to the arrogant facade shown only to the esteemed members of the Cooperative.

“You’re the leader in here. You need to understand what’s at stake, what’s really going on out there.” He slumped into a leather chair beside the ferocious flames, gesturing to the stern female to join him in an adjacent seat.

“On the way here, I came across a woman. A young mother with two children. They were some of the unlucky ones who were far enough from the blast radius to survive the fireball but not the radiation.” Michael raised an arm in demonstration, a chink emerging in his assertive facade as he detailed a vision more painful than he could bear.

“They were covered in tumours, sores, their lungs were burnt from the toxic air.” Molten tears coursed from both eyes, tracking multiple scorching routes down his countenance as he choked on his thoughts. His fists clenched and his throat constricted, memories searing before they reached his tongue, his steely demeanour long since departed.

“After a few moments, I realised that the child she was carrying in her arms was already dead. She was begging for us to murder her other child out of pity. Mercy. She didn’t have the strength to do it herself so she prayed for someone to come along and do it for her.”

“Did you?” Ms Venable queried.

A single tear rolled down his pale cheek.

“No.”

---- read part ii here ----

#fanfiction #American Horror Story #AHS Apocalypse #American Horror Story Apocalypse #Michael Langdon #Michael Langdon fanfiction #Outpost!Langdon #AHS fanfiction #Michael Langdon imagines #outpost!michael

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dlamp-dictator · 5 years

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Allen Rambles about Assassins Pride

Originally, I was going to talk about Assassins Pride along with High School Prodigies have it Easy Even in Another World as a sort of update/mini-essay post. However... the Assassins Pride portion got a lot bigger than I expected, I was over 500 words into it, and by that point, like so many other of my Ramblings, I just threw up and hands and decided to go all in. So, here we are... talking about an anime with only 2 episodes out and yet I’ve still managed to write over 1,300 words about in the rough draft of this “mini” essay.

But first, a quick synopsis by Wikipedia, who does a much better job of summarizing this show than my first two drafts did:

Humanity has been brought to the edge of extinction and now exists solely in the last remaining city state of Flandore, where individual city blocks are housed in separate glass domes. Travel between the domes is possible only via train lines running through glass tunnels. The world outside the domes has become one of eternal darkness and is completely infested with savage lycanthropes.

Within the domes humanity is divided into the nobility and the commoner classes. Through their blood members of noble families are able to manifest mana which grants them powerful superhuman abilities enabling them to fight and kill lycanthropes. Melida Angel was born to a noble father and a commoner mother but has never manifested mana and attends an elite academy to hone her skills with mana.

On orders from Melida's noble grandfather, Lord Mordrew, the assassin Kufa Vampir is ordered to become Melida's tutor and discover if Melida is a true member of the noble Angel family. If Kufa discovers Melida is the product of her mothers affair with another commoner and not blood related to Lord Mordrew he is ordered to assassinate her. Kufa confirms Melida is likely not a noble but decides he cannot ignore her strong spirit and offers her a way to manifest her mana.

With Melida able to use mana for the first time Kufa must keep his actions a secret from Melida's family and from his guild, White Knight, or both he and Melida will be executed.

So here we have a Combat School anime mixed in with political intrigue and assassins. Nothing too out of the ordinary. Though my interest in this anime didn’t come from the mere announcement. Rather, it came from the manga that I read online almost a year ago that has slowly (extremely slowly) been updating.

And as of me posting this essay, this anime is gone through 10 chapters of that manga in 2 episodes.

That’s... insanely fast pacing, and skipping quite a lot of important context. However, despite this I think the anime’s team might be in the right to do this, or at least I can see a bit of their logic behind this choice.

But... before I go into that, I want to talk a bit about that manga in question and the things that made me gravitate toward. Mostly so I can have a Rambling this is more about the positives than the negative, as my last few have been... less than kind toward any series I talk about.

Ah, but I’ve rambled a little too long, let’s get to the first part this manga that I like, which is...

The Intrigue

If there’s one thing I enjoy about the manga it’s the way it shows how the nobility is. Like the synopsis said, the noble class usually inherits the ability to use mana, and specifically families can even inherit unique and powerful classes like Paladin, Dragon Knight, and Magic Knight. These are people raised to be warriors to fight demons, as well as represent their families and schools in tournaments and competition. So being in the noble class creates quite a lot of pressure to achieve and perform at a level that’s acceptable, if not extraordinary. The pressure is on these kids to do their best and live up to their family names, and the fact that Melida can’t even use mana leaves her ostracized and bullied. And the manga makes sure you know this. She’s taunted and mocked by her classmates at every turn. You see the impossible gap that a normal human without mana is would have to cross. You Melida get knocked down both physically and emotionally by those around her save for her maids. And you see just how little her father cares for her because of it. Not through his direct action, but the fact that Melida’s maids are the youngest, least experienced attendants throughout the family. That Melida herself is forced to live alone in the family’s spare manor instead of directly with her father. And boy did chapter 10 show just how much of a jackass her father is with only a few words and cold glare. This is a nobleman alright.

And seeing all this just makes me want Kufa to succeed in making Melida into a great noble and fighter. Even if he has to cheat and break from his original mission to do it, just seeing Melida throw all that bile back into the faces of those who spat on her will be well worth it. To quote the man himself:

“That right there is the warrior you all called useless!”

Ah, but speaking of her teacher...

Kufa

This might be a little weird to mention now, but Kufa reminds me a lot of Zeabolos from Trillion: God of Destruction. I talk a little about that game here when discussing Idea Factory games last year, saying that Zeabolos was a good main character for having an actual personality and goals that didn’t just reveal around the main cast. Kufa is very similar in that regard. Both are older males past 20 with relations and interactions around a namely young female cast. Both have those relations played more realistically than pandering. In Zeabolos’s case, his female cast consisted of his nieces, cousins, sisters, and close friends. People he treated as family and not like awkward crushes, making those interactions heartfelt and fun to see, even the more pandering things, as Zeabolos rightfully doesn’t blush and get flustered around his own family save for Ashmedia who purposefully always tries to throw him off his game.

In the same vein, Kufa treats Melida as his student first and foremost.He trains her in combat, scolds her when she falters too far, praises her when she succeeds, and basically acts as a better father figure than Melida’s real father could ever be. It’s a cute relationship, and it doesn’t end their. He teases and mocks fellow tutor Rosetti, not only keep her and her student at arm’s length but also because she’s enough of a ditz to fall for his taunts. He treats those that bullied and teased Melida... rather... harshly for understandable reasons. Point being, the author understood that Kufa was a person first, and character second, something a lot of other writers in the medium usually fail at.

Plus, the dude actually has some pretty wicked fight scenes. He’s about as over-powered as most male protags in this kind of story, but since the story made sure to show the audience he’s an instructor and assassin by trade, we expect him to be strong from the get-go and can safely continue the story knowing the tension comes less from a powerful enemy, but rather the power system of government and oppression that a kamehameha can’t just blast away.

Ah, but I’ve spoken a bit too long about the teacher and failed to mention much about the student. So let’s talk about the girl herself.

Melida

Boy… it’s no wonder Kufa would rather risk his life than kill this girl for someone’s political gain. Like I said when discussing the intrigue, she’s constantly put down for her lack of mana despite her hardworking nature. Even though she can use mana she’s still an accomplished swordsman and exemplary student. She trains her body everyday, she studies as hard as she can, and for all her effort... she just gets kicked down by everyone else. Her friends, her family, and up until Kufa came into her life and helped her gain mana all she had were her inexperienced maids.Until Kufa showed up she had to take every bit of venom thrown at her with a smile and laugh. She suffers a lot in those first few chapters, and you really want someone to save, to help her accomplish her dream of being a great noble and fighter. No only for herself, but to honor her late mother who everyone claimed was a part of an affair and that Melida herself isn’t even a true woman of the Angel.

And Kufa does, at the risk of both his own and her life.

And after that, we truly get to see Melida shine as the brave soul she is, now that she has the power and is slowly gain the skill to back up that bravery. It’s a nice foil to her cousin Elisa, a fellow student who does possess Angel blood, has gain the esteemed and rare class of Paladin, is rather powerful in her own right... but is an expressionless, cowardly girl that’s almost too frightened to face the demons. I’d go on to discuss Elise and her tutor Rosetti, but... this Rambling is getting long enough, so... more on.

Other Small Things Allen Likes

Just going to put this in list form for the sake of my sanity as well as the sake of moving on to my final point quickly. That said, here are some other small things I enjoy about the Assassins Pride manga:

The world-building is surprisingly engaging to me. A world trapped in perpetual night with warriors of light being the only thing keeping away further darkness, along with the last bastion of humanity being a literal chandelier city in case you missed the symbolism is... surprisingly effective.

There have been some good fight scenes throughout the manga so far. Not many within the 20 chapters mind you, but all of which had some good build-up to them and rewarding conclusions.

Kufa not only succeeds as a serious character, but is the source of a lot of the comedy as well. The manga takes good advantage of throwing this cold, serious assassin off his game enough to be funny at times.

The expressions in this manga are done very well. Half the reason Kufa is so effective are the moments with the artist finally decided to give him a really dark or comedic expression.

Okay... now that I’ve gotten everything off my chest about the manga, it’s about time I finally discussed...

The Anime

Since only two episodes of the anime have came out as of the time of this essay I’ll try keep this short, but… no promises.

Now, in two episodes we’re already at chapter 11 of the manga. That’s… very quick. And chapters 1-11 did a lot of that build-up I was talking about in the last few sections of this essay. To skip all of that really does give this anime a mediocre feel to it, like it just wants to get to the big action shots and give more of a “best scenes” montage than a story.

That said, this isn’t a bad thing. As another anime did something similar...

Yes folks, Allen X is going to compare the action-drama combat school Assassins Pride to the bombastic sports parody Keijo!!!!!!!!

If that disturbs you’re free to leave now, I’m going to continue.

Now, if you’ll mind the comparison, Keijo!!!!!!!! skipped its entire first arc in its anime adaption, over 20 chapters of manga, and the end result was honestly better for it. When you understood the context and plot of "Butt Battle Anime” you didn’t need much else. At that point, you can jump straight into the second arc that focused on developing techniques and had diverse battles for each main character. The exposition and characterization could be explain later, or even skipped if your suspension of disbelief could accept Keijo for what it was, an action-packed sports parody.

At the same time, for all the good build-up the manga does, I can also admit that if you understand that context and plot of “Combat School with Assassin Teacher and Aristocratic Intrigue” you can probably follow the rest of the series just fine. You don’t need to know how classes work to the letter if you can see them in action in the tournaments and battles. You don’t need to know all the trauma and suffer Melida has been through if you got the point after episode one, as it’d be needless suffer-porn. You don’t need to know how deep in trouble Kufa is for going against his guild’s orders if... well, spoiler events happen in the next few episodes that will very much show how determined Kufa’s guild is to get rid of Melida. I’d also like to add that even with online fan-translations the manga only has 20 chapters available.

And twenty chapters of manga isn’t enough to cover a 12-episode anime.

I’m willing to be something that happens around the 30s will be conclusive enough, but the anime has to skip a lot to get to the meat of the plot. Actually, I know this is the case. Here is a link to the Assassins Pride anime’s english website. If you go to the character selection it’ll give you a list of the main cast. This cast consists of Kufa and Melida, the main character. Elise and Rosetti, the main characters’ foils. Nerva, the antagonist of these first 2 episodes. And... 3 characters we aren’t familiar with yet. These 3 in particular are revealed and explained in the latest arc, but as they just got revealed in chapters 19 and 20 and the manga has once again slowed down its updates as fan translations tend to do... we can only speculate what their purpose is. This tells me the latest arc will be not only meaty, but also intense with a main cast this small.

I’ve got hopes for this anime despite my nervous feelings. And I hope the show exceeds my expectations.

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At the very least, Share the Light is a stellar song for an OP, and the OP itself is done well too. If this song is the only good part about this adaption… then I think at least something good came out of it.

...

Usually, this would be the part where I once again lament the lost of the line break feature on Tumblr and awkwardly move on to my conclusion. However... there’s some things I have to get off my chest. Nothing related to Assassins Pride, but to the manga community in general that tends to scream and moan about the book being better than the movie one too many times for liking. So...

Allen’s Grievance

Again, this has nothing to do with Assassins Pride, so feel free to move on to the conclusion if your done reading my mad ramblings. However, there are a few things I have to get off my chest when it comes to comparing manga panels to animation frames:

First, let me say this: Anyone saying the manga is source material to the anime just became irrelevant. Assassins Pride was originally a light novel published in 2016 with 11 novels out as of this essay. To mention the manga as the main source is not only ignorance, but also arrogance, which is an almost unforgivable sin in my book toward anyone acting as a critic.

As someone who’s trying to write his own story I’ll also say there’s a huge difference between serialized writing and writing for a show. I’m not in the animation or show-writing business, so I can’t speak on that end, but in terms of serialization the focus is more on quantity than quality. It’s not just about writing a good story, it’s about writing a continuous story with frequent/timely updates at a consistent rate of quality. I can’t speak for the writer of Assassins Pride, but most places I’ve went to for advice in this regard focus on consistency of writing more than quality of writing. This type of environment creates a lot of downsides, but having this understanding also means that Assassins Pride, being a serialized story, likely has a focus on a long story to keep selling rather than focusing on overall quality.

To that point, by the way the manga explains it, this story is suppose to cover at least 3 years of Melida’s life. Now timeskips will likely happen, but that’s a huge amount of content if they pace it right, and impossible for a 12-episode show to adapt well without cutting some corners in its own pacing, hence the reason they’re skipping this first arc’s details to get into the meat of the second arc.

And need I remind everyone that read the manga that you are likely pirating it for free. I’ve yet to hear of any overseas translation or sells of the light novel yet, so most people complaining about this point likely didn’t read this manga legally. I’ll fully admit I didn’t either, but I also believe most people should put their money where their mouth is. Literally. The main reason the manga translations are so slow is likely because the fan translators aren’t doing this as an actual job, but either for fun or for patreon money. And translators... you can honestly get better money translating hentai. Believe you me, there’s a big market for it and you’d be surprised how many people want context for their Japanese/Korean/Chinese porn.

As I mentioned before, you can understand a lot of details by simply seeing them in motion rather than having them explained to you. The Samurai class is speedy, the Gladiator class is a good attack, the Paladin class is an advance combat/support class, the Maiden/Dancer class is good a mid-range. These things can be shown through the animations and fight scenes rather than having a character explain it. The anime can easily show more than tell, and people need to realize a lot of manga, comics, and novels are guilty of overdoing exposition.

I could go on with my annoyance, I really could, but I’m going to stop their before this thing gets to over 4,000 words.

So...

Conclusion

In short, I’m cautious, but I’m not disappoint… yet.

I’ll keep an eye on this anime. If anything, it definitely looks pretty, the fight scenes have been down well so far, and seeing Melida be cute in full color is great. If I just get a decent action series out of this anime, I’ll be happy. And hey, maybe the light novel and manga will be translated and sent to the west too. Here’s hoping.

Anyway, that’ll do for me. I’m gonna’ try and post something weekly again. Not so much a weekly update, but just essays in general.

#your dictator is speaking #assassins pride

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jovitainvancouver-blog · 7 years

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Hello, Vancouver

After almost 24 hours spent either in airports or on planes, I have finally arrived in Vancouver! No one is more thrilled to be typing that sentence than I am - 13+ hour flights and I do not go well together.

Now that I've slept off the jet lag and have spent just over 24 hours in this beautiful, currently-super-hot city, I am finally ready to share my initial thoughts and observations. Brace yourselves: I'm feeling ramble-y.

1. Note to self: pack lightly.

Here's a unsolicited tip for you: the day before you leave on your international adventure, go through every single item you have decided to pack. If at any point you find yourself staring at an object and going 'what is this?', that is your cue to leave the item behind. Absolutely, unequivocally, you will not need it. This is coming from a girl who's had a few 'what is this?' moments after landing with her overstuffed suitcase in a foreign land, so you're going to want to trust me on this one. (I packed a boxed set of dangly earrings that I absolutely, unequivocally do not need.)

Aside from causing you to be faced with the aforementioned 'what is this?' moments, over-packing your bags has serious mental and physical ramifications that you in your jet-lagged, sleep-deprived state, do not want to deal with.

First instance of regret: I arrive at the airport with my parents approximately two hours before my departure time; giant suitcases in hand (trolley), ready to go. I head to the relatively clear check in counter, expecting to breeze through with no problems. I’d already weighed my bags at home and came in a good fifteen kilos under my weight limit. As it turns out, my lack of reading comprehension skills (!) caused me to miss the fact that each suitcase I packed was allowed to be a maximum of 23kg. As it turns out, one of my suitcases was over by 8kg. So I sheepishly push my trolley on over to a clear area and begin to reshuffle.

Friends, if for no other reason, you want to avoid over-packing so that you don't have to encounter your parents' horrified expressions when they realised they've raised a pack rat. 'How many things did you pack?' asks my mum, holding up dress #6 of 22. 'I thought you were going to re-use the clothes!' On the other side of the suitcase my dad's frown is deepening as he fishes out my giant floral mug. 'You need to take this to Vancouver?' (In my defence, that mug is one of the top 20 things ever to happen to me and the UBC packing list did say to bring your favourite mug.) Despite their obvious concern over my life choices, my parents temper their disapproval and instead focus on helping me achieve the lofty goal of reducing my suitcase weight by 8kg.

After a few minutes, we think we've achieved our goal and take our efforts up to the check-in counter and place them onto the weighing scale, hoping we've done it. No such luck; we were only halfway there.

The second time around calls for cuts to be made. My beloved pink blanket that I was hoping I could get away with bringing doesn't make the cut; nor do several dresses. After reaching what we think is the right weight, we weigh the bags ourselves before taking them up to the counter. This time: success.

I gratefully hand my oversized bags to the lady at the counter, tuck my boarding pass into my passport and walk away.

My parents, obviously still disquieted by the pack rat discovery, say nothing about this and instead choose to dwell on the fact that the flight agent didn’t explicitly disclose that each suitcase could only be 23kg, completely missing the fact that I was responsible for this reading error.

Bless. I love them and am going to miss them.

Second instance of regret: I land at Vancouver airport, clear border control and customs and breeze through the doors with my luggage trolley, ready to face the city. Or, more accurately, almost ready to face the city.

First, I have to get my backpack down to a weight that I can actually carry. I go through round one of reshuffling again, only to almost topple over backwards when placing the bag on my back. No deal - I go back for round two. After a few more minutes of revealing the contents of my luggage to the entire arrival lounge, I gingerly place my second attempt on my back and discover that this time, as long as the waist strap is secured tightly, I only have approximately a thirty percent chance of toppling over.

Good enough, I think, and headed towards the train.

Third (and by far the worst) instance of regret: see below.

2. You are not the weirdest sight on the street. (Or how to deal with it if you are)

If I thought getting on the train was hard (and it was), it was nothing compared to the ensuing trek to the hostel.

Google maps told me that it was a fourteen minute walk to my hostel from my station. 'Piece of cake,' said New Zealand Jovita, sitting at her desk with unburdened arms and well-rested legs.

'Oh dear,' said sleep-deprived, newly-arrived-in-Vancouver Jovita, with her heavy-laden arms, staring at the street she needs to walk on, which is on an upwards incline.

I wasn't going to back out of it after having navigated the train system, so I braced myself and began the trek upwards, inch by painful inch.

I wish I was exaggerating when I said this, but I literally stopped every 20 metres - sometimes less. I would stop, stretch my back, and change the arm that was hauling my behemoth of a suitcase before resuming my snail-paced climb.

Though downtown was relatively deserted when I began the trek (I made a mental note that Vancouver-ites are not early risers), there were enough people on the street to make the city not seem like a ghost town and, unfortunately, enough people to notice my mortifying predicament.

On a positive note, my sympathisers were many and included (but were not limited to): a curly-haired proprietress who came out of her store to ask me with a concerned smile if I was lost; a petite brunette woman in an enviably pretty dress who smiled/winced for me as I walked past her; a motherly-looking dog walker who exclaimed 'Your bag is bigger than you are!' when she first saw me and told me with an apologetic grimace that my destination was still seven blocks away. The best of Vancouver's early risers offered their commiseration over my situation.

On a less positive note, there were many more Vancouver-ites who were not so excellent at commiserating and even worse at hiding their smirks and laughter as they passed. With every malicious grin of a neighbouring car and fast-paced stride of a fellow pedestrian, my humiliation grew.

Just as I was on the verge of bursting into tears with physical exhaustion and the burden of my utter humiliation, a smiling woman came up to me and asked if I was going to the hostel. Having heard me say yes, she asked if she could help me with my bag.

I think we all know how this story ends, friends.

That kind woman's name was Sharon and I may or may not name my firstborn child after her.

With the help of the angel that is Sharon, my painful trek up the hill came to an end. I dropped my bags at the hostel and headed into the city to pass the time until I could check in.

I took shelter in my favourite kind of refuge (the library) for a while and eventually began to recover.

But the humiliation of the morning's misadventures still lingered. I wondered if people could see how out of place I was in this cool city; if I had been invisibly but permanently branded as a non-Vancouver-ite.

All of this continued to plague me until, on my way back to the hostel, I went to cross a street and caught sight of a pram out of the corner of my eye. Never one to resist a peek at a cute baby, I turned, prepared to smile at the chubby-cheeked angel I was sure was going to greet me.

Instead, I came face to face with a large black cat.

As I crossed the street I tried to glance discreetly at the pram-pusher, who turned out to be a sixty-something year old woman who wore an expression that clearly said she didn't give a d*mn what people thought of her pushing her portly cat around. More power to her, I thought, and felt the embarrassment of this morning fade a little.

This little incident did wonders for my self esteem and general thinking process.

She's pushing a cat around in a 1970s baby stroller! That's weirder than hauling two bags bigger than you are up a steep street, right? Right?!

As I reflected on that first day I realised I had also seen my first out-in-the-open cannabis store and not one, not two, but three elderly, pot-bellied gentlemen with no shirts on.

I realised that I was probably not the strangest sight on the street.

But, more importantly, I realised that it was okay even if I was.

If the worst thing that happened that day was that Vancouver-ites had a good laugh at my expense - that I provided them with a daily dose of laughter or a silly story to tell around their dinner tables - that was okay.

An inappropriately dressed (long-sleeved dress and fleece-lined tights in full sunshine) Indian girl sweating and struggling with her gargantuan bags up a main street is a funny sight. One I might have laughed at had I seen it myself.

We all have to take turns at living out humiliating moments in public - here's to hoping I don't have (m)any more.

3. Be careful what you wish for.

As I write this, sitting on a park bench, there is a man sitting on a neighbouring park bench not five metres from mine, casually smoking weed.

As I continue writing this, a bespectacled elderly gentlemen with central-Asian roots sits on the park bench recently vacated by the weed smoker and cheerfully strikes up a conversation. 'You're getting some work done!' he begins. I smile and say, 'Yes'. He continues to engage with me for a few minutes, asking me where I'm from and what brings me to Vancouver.

At some point I begin to pull away from the conversation, trying to get back to my writing. He senses this and says, 'I don't want to impose, but give me two minutes and then I'll leave you alone. I promise I'm not a crackpot.'

I take him at his word and concede to this offer - he comes over to sit next to me. 'Hold up your hands,' he says, demonstrating. I reluctantly stretch them outwards and upwards, as if I'm going to give him a double hi-five. He stares intently at my palms for a moment, briefly mumbling something about beautiful hands before straightening up and instructing me to make a fist with my hands, with my pinky finger closest to him. He peers at the closed fist for a moment before sitting up and looking back directly at me.

'You have a lot of wisdom,' he says, 'and your wisdom and your education are going to take you places.' The encouraging flattering, statements in a similar vein continue for about a minute before he switches track and begins talking about my life partner. 'You need to find someone who's as interested in making people as happy as you are. Your qualities will help you to choose the right person.'

I thank him for his words, telling him they're lovely, and return to my writing. Before three minutes have passed, he's returned to my bench, this time with his own laptop in hand. 'Look at this', he says, having opened up a folder of PDFs all under the heading of anthropology. 'One last thing and then I'll leave you alone.'

I think to myself that he said the same thing last time, but push the thought back and allow him to continue. He begins to read aloud his latest piece on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with reference to similar situations in the far and Middle East (I'd mentioned that I was a political science major). I listen half-heartedly, genuinely interested in what he has to say, but also worried that he's trying to steal my wallet despite his promises to the contrary. I notice a few onlookers from various parts of the park, all staring at me with a mix of amusement and concern. Careful, hon, they say with their eyes.

I turn my focus back to his paper; it's fascinating and well-thought out; a fact I could better appreciate were he not a complete stranger invading my personal space on a park bench. Eventually, I stem the tide of his words and extricate myself as gracefully as possible. He walks away a little disappointedly, but though I feel a little bad, concern for my personal safety trumped my genuine interest in talking to him.

He's still sitting here as I write, staring at his own computer screen while I stare at mine. The silence between us isn't uncomfortable and the sun is still shining so this little encounter, though somewhat disquieting, has not in the least spoiled my day.

-----------

You probably noticed that I entitled this little section of my day-two ramblings 'be careful what you wish for.' This is really true, and perhaps an even more apt title would be 'be careful what you pray for.' It turns out that God really listens.

Before leaving, I hoped and prayed that this time here would be a time unlike anything I had encountered before. I prayed to have opportunities to love people well. I hoped that the city would really be unique and push me outside of my comfort zone.

It's day two and all of these prayers, whether uttered out loud or not, have already been answered.

Park-bench palm readings, 'premium' cannabis stores, more tiny dogs in one park than I have ever seen in my life; Vancouver really is a whole new world.

'You asked for it,' I can hear God saying. I did, and I'm thankful to have gotten it. There's a lot that's happened in the last twenty-four hours; a lot to take in, a lot to learn, a lot to process.

I know that I'll navigate some (read: many) of the coming challenges imperfectly, so much so that I may have to categorise them as failures (see aforementioned packing example), but that is okay.

I didn't come all the way to the other side of the world to feel perpetually comfortable.

I suspect that there will be much mental, emotional and physical discomfort waiting for me in the coming months and though I am daunted by it, I am also thankful for it. Struggle leads to growth and I am desperate to grow in every way possible while I am here.

I'm thankful for a God who hears and answers my prayers in unexpected ways - I can't wait to see what the next five months have in store.

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