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#ian lim
bellszidan · 8 months
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danamosier · 1 year
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#yes it’s doable
FBI S5 x 11 “Heroes”
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mistressvera · 2 years
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diver5ion · 2 years
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le-amewzing · 1 year
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line of sight
Five seasons in and I have a hankering to write about my fav minor charries. -w- *Note: This is set during and after s5e11, "Heroes."
Fic: "line of sight" [FFN] [AO3] [pfio]
Pairings/Characters: pre?onesided?Ian Lim/Kelly Moran, Elise Taylor, Isobel Castille, & Jubal Valentine, with cameos from episodic charries & mentions of others
Rating: K+
Words: ~3,430
Additional info: romance, friendship, angst, fluff, 3rd person POV
Summary: Jubal relies on them in the JOC, to be in the JOC. But it's hard for Ian to focus when Kelly's in that bank.
      Only a few minutes have passed with Ian relocated to the conference room to work in anxious peace while he communicates with Trust National Bank's cybersecurity team. Isobel keeps wandering in and out of the room, pacing like a wild animal cornered, her orders sharp like bared teeth as she hovers, as if it'll do him or Kelly or Jubal or any of those hostages any extra good.
      Line after line of code sprints before Ian's eyes, and he asks the security rep to repeat himself, because his mind can only take in so much information right now. And his focus is split: Code. Kelly. Code. "Sorry, come again?"
      "Look, Agent Lim—"
      "Oh." The title sounds wrong to his ears, so Ian can't help but go on autopilot to correct the guy. "Uh, I'm not a Special Agent, just an analyst."
      "…Mr. Lim," the rep settles on, "we're digging through the source files as fast as we can, but there are really only a handful of options we have. Your best bet is to find the account holder and use the biometrics as intended." The representative's tone is tired but not unsympathetic.
      Ian's fingers leave his keyboard for a moment while he pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut, tight. "I understand," he replies through gritted teeth. "Please, just work as quickly as you can and pass along whatever data you can to me. I can't stress enough, how delicate a situation we have at the Brooklyn location."
      A pause on their end. "Understood." And then the rep's end is filled with the soft quiet of keyboard typing.
      Ian takes that as a signal to resume his end of this work, too. Things are almost peaceful for a bit before his ears prick up, hearing the slightest whoosh of the glass door opening, and he braces himself for Isobel's next useless order that will only add to the weight pressing down on him—
      But it's not Isobel. That soft shuffle on the carpet? That belongs to Elise, and his colleague and friend steps inside but doesn't draw close, as though she knows the last thing he needs is someone else hovering. Instead, she places on hand on the nearer end of the conference table and gives it a gentle tap. "Ian, hey."
      He spares her a glance and mutes his call with the cybersecurity team as well as his end of the comm with Jubal. "Any chance you're here to tell me things have been resolved out there and I can stop this mostly fruitless endeavor?"
      Elise shakes her head. "No…I wish." She goes quiet.
      And yet, despite her silence, he can feel her eyes on him. Ian swallows a lump in his throat and clenches his teeth. "Elise," he begins, "is there something else?"
      She exhales. It's a short, huffy sort of sound, and it draws his attention back to her. When she catches his eye, Elise asks, "Ian, have you given your hands a rest at all?"
      "They don't need a rest. I've only been at it…ten, fifteen minutes, tops."
      Elise's eyes widen, and her expression makes Ian question just how much time actually has passed. But Elise's shoulders slacken. "Well, then. Can I fetch you a snack or something to drink?"
      He appreciates the thought, he does. "Thanks, but no thanks," Ian answers.
      Elise nods and, setting aside whatever drew her to check on him in the first place, returns to the JOC.
      Alone again, Ian scans a few more lines of code. But then he decides to give Elise's suggestion a shot, and he lifts his fingers from his keyboard.
      When they're not typing, they shake something awful.
      That's why he resumes typing right away (after unmuting the cybersecurity team and Jubal's comm, of course), because he's not wholly unaware of the way his nerves are getting to him today. He just— He wasn't ready for Elise to recognize his nervousness, to pick up on it and to empathize.
      The thing is, Ian's mind is abuzz with too much right now. He's here, in the adjoining conference room to the JOC, trying to get the info Jubal will need as a fake locksmith so the Salazars won't shoot the place to hell. But his head tells him that he should be out in the JOC, where he belongs, because that's how things are supposed to be. He, Kelly, and Elise are Jubal's three right hands, essentially. Much as he told the cybersecurity rep, they're analysts, not agents. They're not supposed to get caught up in anything. And yet…
      If that were true…then Elise never would've had that scare a couple years ago with Vargas. And Kelly—Kelly would not be in that bank, with Jubal, with more than a dozen hostages, being held at gunpoint right now.
      His mind works overtime, eyes skimming code while his memories play this morning in reverse. This morning began like any other, almost. It was as close to normal as possible, and Ian had thought it a promising morning, actually, considering he'd started his day with a call from Kelly.
      "I…might be a little late," Kelly had said, although Ian heard the tall goof's usual smile in his tone.
      "I was actually gonna call you about just that. Jubal's looking for you," Ian had stated. But the lilt in the other analyst's voice caught his curiosity. "Wait, why will you be late?"
      "Well, remember the new coffee spot that opened up near my place, with the donut hybrids you wanted to try?" Kelly had sighed. "I thought I'd surprise you and bring in some for us to try, but I had a little altercation at the store, so I'm, uh, not sure I'm exactly welcome there anymore…"
      The idea of gentle giant Kelly Moran being involved in any sort of altercation amused Ian then, much as it amuses him now. But that had been before 9AM, and Ian glances at the time in the bottom corner of his laptop's screen and—
      Oh. Elise is right. He's been at this for a lot longer than fifteen minutes.
      The realization is a sobering one, and he swallows a fresh lump of anxiety just as Isobel pops back in for a status report. Her words can be heard by the cybersecurity team, too, but they're quiet, leaving him to guestimate.
      "Ian, Jubal needs a limit he can work with. Give him something reasonable. Something you think is deliverable," she says.
      Ian's eyes dart between the telephone and his computer (thankfully his SAC stands behind him so his eyes don't dart to her, as well). "I-I don't know!" he blurts, because it's the honest truth. "Thirty? No, twenty minutes." He raises his volume and speaks with more confidence for Jubal. "Tell them twenty minutes, Jubal."
      Jubal mumbles his thanks (risky, but Ian appreciates it—the man's a good boss), and Isobel lingers an extra beat beside Ian.
      "I'm doing my best," Ian says—to Isobel, to himself, he's not sure anymore. "There's really no hacking into this system, though."
      "There is a bypass code, though, Mr. Lim," the rep chimes in. Pages shuffle and flip on their end.
      For the first time in what feels like forever, Isobel releases the breath she's holding. "Good. The second you have it, feed it to Jubal, slowly. We want this to end as quickly and painlessly as possible." And then she disappears back out into the JOC.
      Ian, too, releases a little breath, but his eyes follow her out the room, and annoyance now wars with anxiety. Isobel's kept him away from the big screens all morning—for good reason, because if you want this delicate code sifted through, then Analyst Ian Lim is your best bet—but being in here… Being in here is all to help Kelly, he knows. But being in here means he's not out there, keeping an eye on Kelly, seeing what's happening in real time. It's the not knowing that frays his nerves this morning, making it hard to keep his focus on this impossible task of cracking the bank's security system. Not knowing what Kelly is up to is just fodder for the darker side of his imagination.
      And, just as more and more ideas of everything that can go wrong multiply in his mind, the cybersecurity team directs him to the aforementioned code. Ian pounces on it and reads the lines that come before and after it. Finally, he starts to feel light—or perhaps it's just that this code is the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel.
      As if she senses the changing winds, Isobel pops back in, and Ian nods. "Then it's game time."
      He blanches. They can't rush this. "Five minutes."
      "We don't have five minutes."
      "If I give Jubal the wrong instructions, that metal grid will slide into place, and the whole system will shut down," Ian rushes, trying to keep his panic from leaking into his tone. "It will make it impossible to breach." He doesn't want to imagine what the Salazars will do if that happens.
      Isobel appears to weigh this possibility, too, and she clenches her jaw. "…you've got two minutes," she compromises.
      But Ian's not certain he'd call it a compromise. Two minutes, two seconds—time feels irrelevant today when they've got the weight of the world on them.
      "Ian, buddy…," Jubal prompts.
      Ian nods to himself. "Okay. Connect the USB cord to the main panel."
      "Yeah, that's already done." If Jubal's irritated with him at all, he hides it well.
      "Now, type in the bypass code." Ian pauses for breath and carefully, slowly reads off each digit, including the dash.
      …jeez. To think, all this security and it can be thwarted with a handful of characters entered in a precise order.
      When he hears the final beep as Jubal presses buttons, Ian continues, "Good. Now, go to the scanner and—"
      But Ian doesn't get to finish. The Salazars' paranoia is getting to the couple, and Jubal and Ian lose precious time while Jubal plays his role as affable locksmith, trying to talk them down, insisting he's "just here to help." Marco Salazar is most suspicious of Jubal, but the wife, Jennifer, is able to get him to focus on the task at hand, to focus on the deposit box.
      Once it's safe to talk in Jubal's ear again, Ian clears his throat and supplies Jubal with the scanner's reset code. And…the computer system makes a high-pitched noise.
      The Salazars are confused and question Jubal—the deposit boxes aren't opening?—and Jubal sounds just as frustrated. "Uh…I'm not sure…"
      The shred of hope Ian got when he learned of the bypass code withers. "Jubal, did you type in the dash?" Silence on the other end. That hope withers away to nothing. "If not, that's why it didn't open. Try to stall," Ian blurts as he shoots back a message to the security team. "I'll see if there's a workaround."
      Jubal does his best to play up the blunder and assure the Salazars it can be fixed. But the one camera feed Ian does have, affixed to Jubal's front, lets Ian catch a glimpse of the Salazars in the vault with his boss, and the analyst's hackles go up when he spies the object in Marco's grasp.
      "Jubal, do not let him use that crowbar. It'll cause the security grid to activate."
      And he hopes his warning gets through. Because, after that, voices rise, Marco starts swinging, and—
      And of course the inevitable occurs. The grid drops down with all the finality of a body hitting the ground, and Jennifer Salazar wails in the background. The desperate parents reveal the reason behind their heist—their daughter's being held hostage by others—and Jubal once again tries to talk them down.
      But his words aren't in the least bit soothing. The parents start talking over not only Jubal but each other, too. Isobel cuts in, insisting Ian's working on finding a solution but that Jubal needs to stall as much as possible.
      Ian scrolls back through the earlier code, searching for something, anything he might've missed. And he does all this while ignoring the sorry look on Isobel's face, because they both understand this is out of Ian's hands now.
      (But, Ian notes as Isobel walks back out into the JOC, Isobel's the only one willing to accept that likelihood.)
      He catches bits and pieces in the background, of Scola trying to talk to the Salazars at the scene, of Maggie and OA reporting back that they're on the trail of the men who took the Salazars' poor daughter. Jubal, too, tries asking the bank manager to get their IT department to help, but Isobel points out that Ian's already done the same to no avail, that nothing can be done remotely.
      The only thing that breaks Ian's concentration now is the feed on Jubal, when Marco tussles with him. In that instant, the sound from Jubal's earpiece fades to a distant whisper, and the Salazars push Jubal out of the vault, back into the bank lobby with Kelly and the rest of the hostages.
      And that's when Ian knows. Even if there's a solution for the security system, they're out of time. And, since Isobel's not watching his every move anymore, he springs up from his chair in the conference room and joins everyone else in the JOC, because he has to know. He has to know that they'll be safe.
      But Ian's eyes land on the big screens just in time to glimpse his favorite fellow analyst bravely, stupidly stand up, revealing himself not to be cuffed and to be FBI in one fell swoop as he extends his cellphone to Marco. Kelly exchanges a few words with him, somehow steady, but all Ian sees is Marco Salazar's gun aimed squarely at him.
      With Kelly's line connected to them, they can hear everything, but that doesn't make it better. Even after Maggie and OA rescue a sedated Ella Salazar, robbing the parents of the need to carry out this plan. Even with Scola and Tiff getting ready to close in from the outside.
      But then the team outside the bank is in position.
      Marco hesitates the longer he stares Kelly down. The Salazars wonder why the FBI would call Kelly.
      Don't tell them, Ian mentally wishes. "Because I'm with the FBI, too," Kelly answers anyway. He assures the distraught couple that the FBI has secured their daughter. "Just take the phone. Speak to your daughter. You'll see for yourself."
      "If you're lying…," Marco threatens.
      "I'm not. I'm so damn nervous," he says, and some of his nerves leak into his tone in the form of a half chuckle, "I'm gonna drop this phone."
      The parents finally trust him and accept Kelly's phone, and that's when Scola's team goes into action, a flurry of flashbangs and broken glass. More screams erupt at the bank, and some of the action is a blur. But one thing jumps out at Ian:
      Kelly Moran, disarming and slugging Marco Salazar in two fluid motions, as if he does this every day.
      …strange. The action's over, and calm washes over the scene at the bank, and there's a collective sigh of relief here at the office. Yet, somehow, Ian finds himself holding his breath once more.
      Ian waits out in the hallway, leaning against the wall opposite the elevators, his arms folded, the index finger of his right hand tapping away against his left arm. His eyes are trained on the carpet, at a point just beyond the toes of his shoes, while he waits for another DING, for a particular arrival.
      When the elevator directly across from him chimes, he lifts his head—and frowns, because the carriage is empty. It's not the worst thing in the world right now, waiting. It was hell this morning, waiting while he was chained to his laptop under the guise of "helping"…which didn't amount to much in the face of things.
      The elevator diagonally to his right chimes, and the occupant's soft sigh gives him away, drawing Ian from his thoughts. Ian lifts his head again, and this time he does see Kelly. Tired and absolutely worn, but it's Kelly.
      The taller man beams at him and meets Ian in the middle of the corridor. "Never been happier to be back on home turf," he jokes.
      Ian opens his mouth—there's a lot he'd like to say after this morning—but he's conscious of the subtle tremor still in his hands and shoves them in his pockets before he asks, "Did you just get back?"
      They fall into step, on their way to the JOC around the corner at an exceptionally lazy pace. Kelly shakes his head. "No, I've been back for a bit. Debriefing," he elaborates with an apologetic half smile, as if he meant to come into the office right away (or maybe let Ian know, at least).
      Ian nods. "That's good," he offers. What else is he supposed to say? He could double-check later, but he's fairly sure there's nothing in the handbook covering when you're accidentally hero of the day.
      "Yeah… Not an experience I thought I'd have. But, all things considered…" Kelly purses his lips, and his pace slows. The doors to the JOC are maybe ten feet away, and he glances at them before stepping to the side of the hallway, knowing Ian will join him. "Jubal insisted I go home for the rest of the day." He meets Ian's eyes. "It would've felt strange, though, not setting foot in here today."
      Ian grins (and, ah, his facial muscles feel sore—has he grimaced too much today?) at that, feeling more at ease. "You mean it would've felt strange not to hover over my shoulder instead of using your own computer." Funny, too. He spent all morning irritated with Isobel's hovering, but it makes more sense to him, now that he's thinking with a clearer head, that he might've been irritated that she occupied a space typically reserved for Kelly.
      They share a laugh at Kelly's expense, and the taller man blows out a long breath. "Fair point. Today, Ian…today was such a strange day. It gave me a lot of time to think…" That big, beaming smile softens into a smaller, goofy one right as Kelly goes quiet.
      And Ian waits. He waits and wonders. He wonders if he weren't the only one concerned about that bold yet dumb stunt Kelly pulled with the Salazars hours ago… He wonders if he's not the only one thinking about how often they invade each other's personal space in the JOC… He wonders if he's not the only one thinking about how often they talk and text outside of work, even making almost-plans for coffee-and-hybrid-donut dates…
      "I…" His cheeks flush.
      Ian's quota for patience with others has been met for the day. But he's got patience in spades for Kelly Moran, so all he does is cock his head forward encouragingly.
      Kelly chuckles. "I wanted you to be the first to know: I'm considering applying to be a field agent."
      These are absolutely the last words he expected to hear out of his friend's mouth today. Ian freezes and blinks, once, twice.
      But Kelly waits. And waits. And waits—holy crap, he wants Ian's approval. Not that he needs it, but Ian's opinion matters that much.
      On another day, Ian would be flattered. But all he can do right now is numbly nod, because the last thing he'd sign off on is "Special Agent Kelly Moran."
      Except that's precisely what Kelly's dreaming of in this moment. Being a hero, not having coffee dates.
      "Y-Yeah…," Ian says. "After today, I can… I can see how that'd suit you…"
      And it's hell, because the compliment, this seal of approval, makes Kelly's eyes light up as if it's Christmas. He even scoops Ian up in a big hug, putting him back down on the floor and chattering about applying and what FLETC will be like as they cross that final distance to the JOC.
      Ian listens and nods when he's supposed to nod. But his thoughts are back in that conference room, back to this morning, back to when he couldn't breathe because Kelly was out of sight.
      They are analysts, not agents. Kelly ran into some grade-A trouble thanks to bad luck today…and Ian fears his becoming a field agent will only invite more of it.
Done for the 5, 10, 20, 50, 70, 100 Fandoms Challenge as well as the If You Dare Challenge (for prompt #359: more trouble) in the HPFC forum on FFN. SO. Been with FBI since the beginning, have had some shippy thoughts and feels, but more than that I've had my fav minor charries from the beginning, and Elise, Kelly, and Ian are they. -w- I'm actually surprised I didn't write Elise already, but I had to write this idea when "Heroes" aired. Elise, Kelly, and Ian are sacred to me, *lol*, and I legit got the sense that Kelly might apply to become a Special Agent (à la Timothy McGee, for any fellow NCIS fans), but I also have lowkey shipped him and Ian for a while, esp with the whole invade-each-others'-personal-bubbles thing, and then this fic happened, writing a lot of the ep from Ian's POV. :3c I hope we get to learn more about Kelly and Ian since we got to know Elise better (I LOVE THEM ALL, as well as Papa Jubal, *lol*), and I'm so glad we didn't lose anyone (otherwise I'd be a mess TT-TT). Lastly, some dialogue comes from the episode verbatim. AHHHH, I just. I need to know more about the analysts…! (Also, more Scola, plz. And not just bc he is James Aubrey from Bones by another name. ;P)
Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!
~mew
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voss117 · 2 years
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Calla Francesca Hailwood by Ian Lim - “Hello from Ibiza” (C-Heads)
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sophiebiikes · 12 days
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rb for accuracy!
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eureka-its-zico · 1 year
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Winterfall
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Synopsis: When you thought of your life, Glenview Psychiatric Hospital was the last place you thought you’d end up. What could be weirder than calling a place like this home? Finding people who remind you that, sometimes, the messiest parts of who we are can be the best parts of us too.
Pairings: Christian Yu x Reader x Jay B x Reader (It’s a love triangle, y’all) 
Series: ongoing 
Word Count: 5186
Warnings: mentions of self-harm, mental health issues, mental disorders, slight violence, sexual themes
A/N: This is a hard one to post. I’ve had this in my WIPs for over seven years. I’ve rewritten it multiple times. Consider if this was a series, I was willing to share. As someone who suffers from BPD II and PTSD, it felt strange to dive into mental health. In a way, I felt like I needed a safe place to get it out. To share. This fic isn’t meant to be sad. It’s meant to be about growth. The journey of mental health can be a messy one, but it doesn’t have to hinder our own growth. Our sadness does not define us. If I ever miss anything in the warnings for chapters, please let me know and I’ll fix it ASAP! This fic is loosely based off of one of my favorite films, Girl, Interrupted. And remember, if you you ever need to talk: Im here.
Shout out to my bestie @deadneverlander for always being the better half in our clownery. I wouldn't be able to do half of this without you.
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There was something about the bleakness of winter that seemed to make countless people’s bones ache for the warmth of summer. Their loneliness is somehow made more apparent by rain clouds and negative degrees, turning thoughts into reminiscent scenes of a doomsday film. 
You’d always claimed that fall was your favorite season because the vast spectrum of your sadness didn't match the heat of summer. Sure, you loved the possibilities of hot cocoa, warm fires, ridiculous horror, Christmas films, and the first sight of snow. Somewhere along the way, however, came the anxiety of holiday dinners. Where the comfort you’d found in overcast skies turned sinister with repeated looks that reminded you that you were the black sheep; the odd man out with another year of nothing to show.
Fall no longer meant binges on shows and breaks from the endless routine that was work and school. It meant laying in the snow until your body heat forced it to melt underneath you, seeping into the fabric of your clothes to leave your nerves numb and transparent like ice. Your mind silently hoped it would be enough to extinguish the agony that blossomed in your chest. 
Jackets were no longer marked for warmth, but strictly to hide your struggle to feel anything past the chasm that’d grown in the past couple of months: to bleed out the parts of you that didn't belong. It wasn't a surprise it's what landed you a one-way ticket to the cozy room inside a psychiatric hospital. Maybe that's just what happens when you're found unresponsive with a belly housing a fifth of rum. The marks on your skin lay like a map to follow on how you got there; only being found like a frantic afterthought. 
Glenview Psychiatric Hospital, or GSH that was strategically labeled in bright crimson above the pocket of your prison-inspired sweatshirt, had been home for three months now. It was meant to be a place of healing, among the basic mood stabilizing and therapy sessions everyone held in a day. You felt further away from that concept with every group activity the doctors forced you to take part in. Your social anxiety becoming apparent each time it lands on you to speak, either to close the circle, or to be a part of the ridiculous game activities. The last time you played volleyball your face saw more action with the pleather ball than your arms ever did. 
It was currently 12:47 p.m. The clock giving you a false sense of hope that the time wouldn’t just creep by to leave you stranded the last thirteen minutes until you’d earned your freedom. There was, however, the off chance if Dr. Thompson wasn't hearing what he wanted; the hour-long group activity would be extended. 
You scanned the other six faces that made up your group: the huddled mess of piled sweaters and huddled blanket of Soomi a fleeting moment of comfort. It only took your eyes adjusting on her figure to know she didn’t have one. Her tiny body composed of thick layers of clothes to portray a false sense of shape. Her anorexia becoming so severe her family had no other option but to put her here, or watch her die. Jason’s endless finger taps on every surface he could touch the only giveaway to his OCD until he removed himself from his chair. Sejun with his alcoholism and Yuna with her acidic imagination that the wind whispered her deepest secrets out into the world. 
All this ending with your gaze narrowed on the statuesque figure of Jaebum who comically sat opposite of your current position. The two suicidal inmates that shared in the anxiousness of sadness but little else, and the usual reason why your group never seemed to end on time. 
You couldn't say it was a shame to be stuck sitting dead center of someone so attractive; as shallow of an observation as it was there was no denying how ungodly true that statement was. He held a silent attractiveness that resonated in the solitude he kept around himself, and Jaebum was indeed a solitary creature.
He preferred books over people. Usually moving away from anyone who got close to his latest reading perch without ever glancing up from his current book. Jaebum’s favorite place he’d reserved to get lost inside his fiction the seal of the window that looked out the expanse of the institute’s backyard. The entire estate currently covered in the dead burgundy and gold of a forest of oak tree leaves. 
It wasn't like you were laying avid amounts of your attention on him or anything. You didn't pay attention to how broad his shoulders looked in his old man sweaters that you could've bet money smells like mothballs. How his features seemed sharpened to match the fierceness that lived inside his eyes. The only thing that exposed his softness was the speck of a mole that dusted itself on his left eyelid. 
Jaebum just held a presence that demanded to be noticed. Whether he himself liked it or not. 
“Jaebum: do you have anything you’d like to add to the session?”
Dr. Thompson’s question made the both of you jolt in your seats. Youwere too busy staring down at your nails while you plucked away at the cuticles. Jaebum's head turned, unbeknownst to you, from looking at you to the good doctor. It was enough to make your cheeks flush hot. 
His crossed arms gave a soft shrug, and you hated how your eyes stayed captivated by the movement. You were willing to blame it on the charcoal-worn cable knit sweater he favored. It really did smell like moth balls and age making you willing to bet it wasn't his to begin with. 
“We talked about this guys. Shrugging is not an adequate substitute for an answer.”
His tone showing his frustration more than anger at his need to repeatedly inform the group. Dr. Thompson looked at each of you individually until he stopped on Jaebum, who didn’t seem the least bit moved. 
“I have nothing to say.”
A sigh escaped from Dr. Thompson’s lips as his head shook softly. His eyes averted down to the tin clipboard momentarily before they resumed their previous position. 
“And what is it exactly you would like me to add, huh?” You felt your body tense against the chair. Your hands grasping at its edges like it would be the only thing to keep you stable against the oncoming rage that was Jaebum’s agitation. “We do these pointless sessions over and over: again and again. For what? Do you think it “saves” anyone?”
Your eyes diverted from the safety of your knees; counting every frayed piece of cloth on your jeans that hung loose from torn holes. No part of you needed to acknowledge that he was standing. The room did that well enough with the tension his power caused. The room itself swelling with anxiety that made fidgety Sera begin to rock violently against the back of her chair. Her head shaking hair into her face, like a curtain to hide what she feared was coming her way like the abusive hands of her father. 
The orderlies were already beginning to circle his chair, but Dr. Thompson held up a hand of warding. He reminded you too much of an irresponsible ring handler at a circus. Unwilling to recognize his own tiger was about to maim him. 
“No, no that’s fair enough. I see you have an issue with the way we try and help our patients.”
“Help?!” Jaebum snarled. “Is that what you call it? Like you helped Simon remember all the things he wanted to forget! Is that what you call endless therapies until he killed himself! You consider being helpful with the way you handled Ian?”
Dr. Thompson regarded Jaebum quietly, but his eyes were focused and searching the young man’s face. You watched in helpless awe as one stood like a calm in a blazing storm, while the other raged so furiously you thought the walls would come down. No longer was his voice a strong current, but now thunderous words that hurled like lightning bolts were being directed at the man before him. 
Jaebum was right. Sometimes, the doctors picked and picked a part at you until you were left bare and raw. And if their words didn’t do it their physical methods picked up where they lacked. His anger was justified, because deep down so were you. But you didn’t have the towering strength like he did to stand up to anyone. Your fear of the seclusion rooms kept you prisoner: locked in your chair as a simple flick of Dr. Thompson’s hand sent the orderlies rushing to Jaebum’s side. 
“I think that’s enough for today’s session.” 
In the back of your mind you knew that Jaebum was right. In part. Who were counselors and psychologists to tell the broken mirrors of people how to put their pieces back together? Only to end up with more blood on their hands from struggling to put sharp pieces in place. They studied people like you, Jaebum...people like Ian who were features in their college books. They themselves barely ever one to experience it themselves. 
Healing, even if unconventional, was still healing in the end. There was no right or wrong way to get there, but here, with people like Dr. Thompson, their textbook solutions were the only solutions. Maybe that’s why it backfired so terribly with Ian. 
So for once, you wanted to stand up with Jaebum. To call out the injustices of treatments forced on patients, like Ian. Treatments they’d placed on patients that only wanted to forget, because no one wants to remember traumas and everything that makes them feel like failures. 
You knew, however, if you took that chance to be brave for once you would end up like Jaebum. Uselessly struggling against orderlies who came prepared with syringes to make you complacent and an endless day being locked for god knew how long inside seclusion. 
It was cowardice that kept your mouth shut. All of you stayed quiet as an orderly you aptly nicknamed, “The Bull,” grabbed at the neck of Jaebum’s sweater. That was all it took for him to react violently. Jaebum’s elbow flew back with such force it dislodged The Bull’s grip, which only seemed to make it worse. 
“Jaebum, please do not struggle.” Dr. Thompson’s voice didn’t sound as soothing as he probably imagined. Obvious agitation outlined every word; the struggle forcing all of you up from your chairs and away from the fighting. “Everyone out. Now.” 
A part of you hated listening. For not firmly digging your feet in to stand for something you agreed wasn’t right. It was an odd thought. Since Ian was the usual instigator of the chaos of how these ended. Never Jaebum. Maybe he just felt like in Ian’s absence he needed to take over for him. 
“You play god with everyone’s emotions and leave them to drown alone in the aftermath. You are the reason Christian keeps escaping and Hyujin is gone! It’s you! It’s all of you!”
Jaebum’s rage became more apparent with each sentence and broke as his throat formed the words of his former friend. Former because he’d found himself as one of Dr. Thompson’s experimental new treatments. A treatment that brought back too much Hyujin couldn’t cope with - was forced to confront - before he was ready. 
The ward still felt hollow - missing in the sound of Hyujin’s laugh. 
You would’ve been impressed with the way Jaebum was laying into the doctor. He was holding his own against the orderly at his arms until the Bull snuck behind him and brought him falling down to the cold concrete floor. 
That was the last you saw of Jaebum as you were ushered outside the doors. You faced them for a long time. No one questioned why you stood at the entrance as Jaebum’s yelling dulled to nothing. It was too late for you to run back and play the role of knight in shining armor and standing in front of the door would only make the staff assume you were waiting to cause a scene. 
Turning on your heel you headed towards the living area. Your mind racing heavily with indecision and not paying attention to the overcrowded chairs and couches. You bypassed them all to head to your favorite window seat. It was opposite to the one everyone knew as Jaebum’s; reading a new book every week during free time. It was so engrained to the fabric of the facility that no one tried to take it from him. Not even Ian. 
You folded into yourself as soon as you sat down on the window seat. Your chin pressed into your shoulder so you could get a better look outside. The vibrant colors of changing leaves reminding you that fall was coming. Maybe they would let you work outside if you were good? You were tired of doing bathroom and kitchen duties, but because of Ian’s latest stunt no one was allowed outside. Not until the fences were made higher with wire curled along the top. 
If thoughts could be breathed into existence, you were positive you alone would be deemed responsible for Ian walking, right then and there, through the facility's double doors. Of course, Ian could never simply enter a room quietly.
Christian entered every room like a force. Wild and unpredictable. Mother Nature couldn’t compete with his massive hurricane personality. No one could come close, because underneath all that unhinged nature was a magmatism that far outreached just good looks. 
Was Christian good looking? Devilishly so. It was his way with words, however, that left many people reeling. Not just fellow patients, but staff as well. He was painfully charming and, if you weren’t prepared for his wide-set smile directed in your direction, you were going to find yourself in trouble. Deep, deep Christian-flavored trouble. The staff had even labeled him with a warning of “verbal jujitsu” - you had to stay miles ahead of the conversation or you’d find yourself like the recently fired psych tech who’d handed over the ward keys without a second thought.
Seriously. That’s how Christian escaped this time. All the other times, well, the man could be considered the second coming of Houdini. 
“How have you been, Bob? Are your feet still giving you grief, Margo?”
It was impressive how he acted like it wasn’t a big deal he’d magically reappeared. The guard and orderlies awkwardly keep watch over the double doors he’d come through like he’d disappear back into thin air. 
You hated how happy you became hearing the richness of his voice. The way his accent reminded you of the battle of wills on what was the proper way to say, “water,” and the teasing you gave him about constantly saying, “Naurr”. 
“It’s Margaret, jackass,” the older psych tech mumbled in reply. She didn’t even bother to look up from putting a new bandage on Bob’s hands.
“Missed you too, babe.” 
You watched his reflection in the safety of the glass of the window. You didn’t want to show how eager you were to see him - or to find out that every time he left the ward became almost too much to bear alone. 
In the safety of the window, you could pretend the call to freedom was what kept your eyes hypnotized. Not the sleeveless tee he’d tucked inside the waist of skinny jeans that hugged to the muscles like paint or the layers of tattoos that covered honey skin. He wasn’t tan when he’d left. Where had Ian’s adventures taken him this time? 
You would get the chance to ask him yourself. 
When his eyes caught sight of your huddled frame curled in the window seat his trajectory changed completely. He didn’t think you’d noticed him yet, but it didn’t stop his infamous megawatt smile from brightening up his features and the butterflies he’d left trapped in your gut instantly springing back to life. 
The only downside? You were more than positive Ian saw you only as a sister. If he’d thought of you in the past as anything else you would’ve definitely known by now. As much as Ian was known for his charisma and whirlwind energy, he was also known for slipping into the janitor’s closet with more than a few now-fired staff members. 
In a matter of seconds, he left the mirage of the window to become real beside you. The smell of cigarettes and his preferred cologne enveloped you, instantly turning the space intimate. You tried your best to ignore him. Ian would receive nothing but the side eye from you after the latest shit he’d pulled. 
He let out a heavy sigh as a finger playfully poked into your side. He wiggled the digit in a weak attempt to tickle you thinking it would be enough for you to finally look at him. Fat chance. Using your elbow, you pushed down with just enough force to dislodge him from your side. The act forced a heavy sigh to flare his nostrils as he leaned back against the window. 
“Come on, ‘Roo. You can’t be that mad at me?”
Of course, he would use your nickname. The nickname you earned one night when he’d tried to tickle you until you couldn’t breathe. To be honest, he thinks you’d kicked him accidentally in the chest because you might wet yourself. The truth? Ian had gotten dangerously close. A few times it felt like his lips were just a few sharp breaths away from landing on yours, and that night you’d felt hollow. So hollow. All you wanted was to burn and Ian…he was so full of fire and life and for once you wanted to know what it felt like to be filled with something other than emptiness. 
You wanted to catch fire too. 
So you’d kicked out at him in panic. Hence how you became his Kangaroo. His ‘Roo. 
“Actually,” you began, biting out the world with each syllable. “I can be upset with you and I most definitely am.”
“Don’t be like that, ‘Roo. I know you missed me.”
“No, I didn’t. It was rather peaceful while you were off on whatever antics you decided to get into.”
A tsk sent his bottom lip into a pout as he crossed his arms. His shoulders lean further down the window and slightly into your view. 
God, why did he have to be so heartbreakingly handsome? 
You refused to make eye contact with him. Don’t do it. It’s a trick. You knew it was a trick. A sneaky ploy and yet…you looked. One look was all it took and Ian knew he had you.
“I missed you.” His voice caressed your skin like velvet causing it to erupt in goosebumps. “So, I know if I missed you that can only mean that you missed me.”
A snort of disbelief left you as you finally gave him what he’d been asking: your full and undivided attention.  
“Is that how it works, Ian?”
“Ah!” He beamed. “She finally looks at me.” 
You couldn’t keep your eyes from rolling as you tried to face away from him, but Ian wasn’t having it. 
“I shouldn’t even do that.”
“Where is all this hostility coming from?” He pouted. “Did you experience another one of Dr. Thompson’s riveting group circles?”
“It’s not funny, Ian. You always leave.” You hated how your voice betrayed you. The way it cracked before you could glue it back together. “You go and leave me here, without you, all the time. One of these days you may not come back.”
All the playfulness slowly drained from his features. The sly smile wilted to a grimace as deep brown eyes scanned over your face. Calculating your words with the body language of guarded arms and saddened eyes. His hands gently grabbed at your elbows to loosen your arms before turning you to him. His head dipped down just a bit to make sure he had you at eye level. 
“Hey, ‘Roo. I’m sorry. I come back for you, you know that right?” You knew he was lying, but try telling that to the butterflies fluttering around like crazy in your gut. “These assholes could never catch me if I didn’t turn myself in, and I only turned myself in to get back to you.” 
You didn’t know what you would’ve said at that moment. Maybe something he wanted to hear or maybe - finally - you’d have the guts to call him out on his bullshit. Luckily for you, the muffled sound of Jaebum’s screaming slowly grew louder until his struggling body was brought through the double doors from therapy. 
“Let me go, you assholes!”
You’d never seen Jaebum fight so fiercely before. The way he flailed his arms to find a way to get them released along with his legs kicking out like a madman. They practically dragged him down the hall towards seclusion. For a split second, in his struggle, his eyes landed on you. His gaze held yours for what felt like a lifetime until the spell was broken. It felt like slow motion as his face turned to see Ian on your right and all the fight drained from his body. 
Did he think he was fighting for Ian? Himself? Jaebum was never much for acting out. That was usually Ian who created trouble. Maybe that was why he looked so shocked seeing Jaebum being dragged down to seclusion. 
“Oi! What the fuck is this?”
Ian was up off the window seat in seconds. A couple of orderlies were already coming out from behind the nursing station to meet him halfway. Whatever they were saying, you weren’t all too sure. Ian was doing his usual of screaming and shoving causing the orderlies to prepare for a fight. The patients closest to all the commotion desperately trying to get out of the way. 
It was all chaos. All classic Ian. The only non-classic thing was Jaebum looking at you in a way you’d never noticed before. It created a row of questions that sat heavily on your tongue and ones you weren’t sure he would ever be willing to answer. 
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It wasn’t until everything had settled down again that you snuck inside the room that held group therapy. Your eyes instantly homing in on Jaebum’s chair and underneath it one of his grandfather’s books. 
Before you dared to push all the way through into the room you gave one last cautious glance to the recreation room and slipped inside. You made sure to hold the door so it didn’t click into place. There was no denying if you were caught sneaking in somewhere you weren’t meant to be you’d be joining Jaebum in your own seclusion room. 
The sterile room with its egg-white walls was most definitely not your favorite. The only way to add your own source of color to its walls was to display your thoughts - projecting them out like a fucked up home movie that you’d rather forget. 
You made sure to cut across the room silently. Your legs bending at the knee to swoop down to grab the worn-down cover and secure it to your chest. 
You couldn’t explain why as you made your way out of the room towards the upper floor that held the seclusion rooms what made you want to do this for him. It’s not like he would thank you, but you weren’t looking for that. 
It wasn’t hard to notice the way Jaebum cared for his late grandfather's things. From the sweater he wore daily that was meticulously cleaned and laundered to the few books Jaebum was able to keep from his collection. He coveted them the way others valued trophies but it wasn’t praise that Jaebum found secluded inside their pages: it was peace. 
You didn’t know much about him. Jaebum wasn’t much of a sharer. He was reserved. The only way to know him was by the pages you held close to your chest. So, you weren’t terribly sure why you were doing this for him except for the fact you believed no one should go without something that they loved. 
Just as you were about to round the last corner to the hallway that held seclusion rooms 1 through 3, you caught a flash of an orderly speaking to a nurse. From the brief moment you’d caught before you found the safety of the opposite wall, they were more than likely flirting. 
Ted. That was the name written on his uniform. He’d called Ian a “Psycho,” a handful of times. You wondered if Ted knew the nurse he worshiped spent the same handful of nights sneaking inside Ian’s dorm. 
“Do you maybe want to go get breakfast in the morning?” 
Breakfast?! You mouthed to yourself before you snuck another peek around the corner. 
“Oh, I don’t know, Ted. I might have plans later.”
If your eyes could roll back any harder you would’ve seen brain cells. You knew exactly what her supposed plans were. You could already hear the moans that echoed down the halls like a haunting. The only thing haunted here would be you. 
You didn’t have to see Ted’s expression to know he was defeated. He was probably wondering how someone could refuse breakfast or maybe he was finally growing tired of being told no. The mystery of the unknown in this love triangle would sadly (not really) remain a mystery. You didn’t really care if they had breakfast together or hunted Easter eggs. You just wanted them to finish their awkward conversation and leave the damn hallway. 
A few more strangled pieces of conversation later and you could hear the shuffling of feet. Quickly, you moved inside a linen closet and quietly shut the door. Your ears straining - waiting - to hear a pair of feet move past your location so you could finish what you came to do. 
Every second you were out here and not inside your own dorm waiting for the nurses to come in and check you were there was one second too many in a chance at punishment. After a few more minutes went by and the coast sounded relatively clear, you creeped out from the linen closet and dashed towards the seclusion rooms. 
“Jaebum!?” You half whispered half yelled. “Jay!”
“What the hell are you doing over here?”
Ah, there was that condescending voice you’d grown accustomed to. Following the sound of his voice, and with the help of his fingers hanging out of the small seclusion window, you darted towards the back of the hall. Your arms still securely held onto his grandfather’s book and only began to loosen as you got closer to the door. 
“I wanted to bring you something before they placed it in lost and found.” 
With another cautious glance down the hall, your fingers wrapped around the edges of the book's spine. You offered it up to him and gently started to push it through the small window. Jaebum hadn’t spoken since he noticed what you held in your hands. His fingers overlapped yours as he took it from you. His arms immediately brought it inside with him with the sound of pages flipping while he made sure each page was still accounted for. 
“How did you-“ he began, but his words quickly died out. 
“Can you believe it ladies and gentlemen? For once, he was too stunned to speak,” you teased. 
Jaebum’s eyes narrowed in on your face. His hands wagged the book as if he was going to hit you over the head with it. Who knows, he might have if there wasn’t a 30-pound door stationed between you. 
“I’m serious. You came all this way to give me this?”
You shrugged his words off like what you’d done wasn’t a big deal. Both of you knew it was. So many factors that could lead you to where he was, or worse, if they believed you were trying to steal someone else’s property. Which, they one hundred percent would even though kleptomania wasn’t part of your conga line list of disorders. 
“I remember how much his things matter to you. I didn’t want Bull or Kojak The Great Dick to get a hold of it. I know they wouldn’t have respected it after today.”
You’d expected a lot of things to come out of this exchange. The main one? At least a thank you. All you were getting now felt like the cold shoulder that featured a very unnerving stare. With every second you were feeling more self-conscious and it took everything in you not to shout, “Boo!” in an attempt to get him to blink. 
You couldn’t take the awkwardness of the exchange any longer. Your feet were already backpedaling as your arms swung, thumb extended out, to indicate your exit before you spoke. 
“Great well, this was a fun chat-“
“He lies to you, you know.”
Jaebum’s words took you by surprise. You were sure that was the point. His face was set in deep lines of determination as if what he needed to say was something you needed to adhere to like the gospel from the Bible. 
“Okay, Jay I’ll bite: who is he?”
“You know who I’m talking about. Ian. It’s who he is. He doesn’t know how to tell the truth, and you always set yourself up for failure with him.”
Maybe Jaebum thought he was being helpful - calling to light all things you were aware of but couldn’t bring yourself to say out loud. You must have seemed too weak - gullible - in his eyes for him to believe he needed to say these things. 
You eyed him coolly through the window. Your tongue rolled around inside your cheek trying to decide what exactly you should say at this moment. Did he want recognition that you knew you were an idiot? What did it matter to him if you knew Ian didn’t give two fucks about you. 
So, the only thing you could settle on was the beginning of a long sigh before you spoke: “I know I might look like a love-sick puppy to you, Jay, but I know my place.”
He tried saying your name to stop you. You just ignored him as you shook your head and allowed yourself to begin to move back down the hall towards the safety of your own dorm. 
“It’s alright, Jay I get it. Take care of your grandfather’s things better, okay?”
You didn’t wait to finish your sentence before you were already turning to head down the hallway. The bottom of your feet itching for you to sprint in the opposite direction. Your mind raced over Jaebum’s words and matched them with the growing chasm in your chest.
So lost in your head, you barely caught the sound of his parting, “Thank you,” as you bolted around the corner. 
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dragonflyable · 2 months
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In a time of live action remakes, this one gets pretty close…. 
When fans first heard or saw that another remake was coming, the best way to describe their mixed reaction was “cautious”. After all, this is one of the best animated shows ever. And now that Netflix’s version of ”Avatar : The Last Airbender" is out, the response is still mixed… I think that fans who like it can admit it’s not prefect, and those who hate it can say it’s not as bad as it could have been. Either way, it’s exceeded expectations!
If you’ve seen the original animated show like I have, it’s impossible to give your opinion about this remake without comparing the two.
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Story & Use of Time
With only 8 episodes to tell the first arc of the story (which originally took 20 episodes), you have to make the most of the time you’ve been given and have some solid writing. To its credit, it’s NOT a “shot for shot, actually the same script” remake of the first season. They take the story to new places, but they still could have used at least 2 more episodes. 
At times when the series does do its own thing and tells the story in different ways, it’s actually really enjoyable. Although some characters their storylines have been changed, others have been expanded. There are some changes and additions to the story that do work in this version. Of course, there are also some nice hidden references and more obvious call-backs, but they work their way in nicely.
Unfortunately, there are also times it felt like they were following the textbook. Trying to squeeze in elements or characters from the original because “they have to be in it”. Because of this, some things feel rushed or not that well written. 
Cast & Characters
The cast did a great job! I really enjoyed watching them bring these characters to life. You can tell that they understood the source material and gave their best while preforming these iconic characters. And the main cast has a chemistry and dynamics similar to the one the original voice actors brought to the animated series.
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Effects, Action & World
They really did manage to bring the power of bending to life in this version, with great effects (for a live action TV show) and wonderful choreography for the close up battle scenes. The larger action scenes of warfare are also very impressive. 
And it’s not just the bending, because the world itself and the creatures are also remarkable. Some designs and locations do get an update, but for the most part they stay true to the original look of the world. It’s still a world you wish you could visit.
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Conclusion
It’s clear that there was actually effort and dedication that went into making this series, which is something to admire even if they didn’t get everything right. They did capture the spirit of the original series, which is why I think it’s worth watching at least once. 
I had a good time watching this version, and it made me want to watch the original “Avatar” adventures of Aang and Korra all over again! And if you didn’t like it, you can also go watch the original “Avatar : The Last Airbender”, and if you haven’t, you really should!
This remake does deserve another season with more episodes, but we’ll have to wait and see…
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itsthebigguy123 · 2 years
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Danganronpa THH Fancast in case it gets adapted by Netflix for America
I pray to God it never happens, but here's a best case scenario in a fancast:
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Lance Lim as Makoto Naegi
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Ross Lynch as Byakuya Togami (His name would be changed accordingly).
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Auli'i Cravalho as Aoi Asahina
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Tyler James Williams as Yasuhiro Hagakure - name changed
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Chelsea Zhang as Kyoko Kirigiri
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Iman Vellani as Toko Fukawa (name changed). God this character was hard to cast, so I went for the most shocking yet oddly fitting one
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Nina Makino as Sayaka Maizono
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Joe Keery as Leon Kuwata
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Adeline Rudolph as Celestia Ludenberg
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Ian Alexander as Chihiro Fujisaki
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Diego Tinoco as Mondo Owada (name changed here)
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David Castro as Kiyotaka Ishimaru (name changed here)
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Jacob Batalon as Hifumi Yamada
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Sasha Banks as Sakura Ogami (name changed here)
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Shiori Kutsuna as Junko Enoshima and Mukuro Ikusaba
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themosleyreview · 2 months
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The Mosley Review: Netflix’s Avatar: The Last Airbender (Season 1)
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And so the trend to try and adapt a beloved anime, manga or an American animated series to live action continues. It isn't uncommon that the fans demand it or someone has a vision to bring such beautiful piece of art to the big screen. It just the fact that each attempt has been a disaster or has completely missed the point of the source material. Not everything in animation translates to live action so changes have to be made for an audience to digest the information. Which in this case, was a travesty since the rich themes of identity, personal growth, fear, loss and the power of hope is what made the original animated series a masterpiece. Such themes that connected with children and adults alike is what made the series such a massive draw. Now we all know how horrible the 2010 film adaptation so there’s no need to retread those waters. You can say that expectations were tempered going into this new Netflix adaptation with all the problems that existed internally. To be fair, I will not continue this review by comparing every aspect of the original series to this new live action version, but I will always encourage you all to seek out the original series. That being said, I will save my biggest critiques at the end. Now, I went into this series with the single hope that it would be as close as possible to the original series. Well, this was a better adaptation that captured a certain percentage of what made the cartoon special, but you can feel the tug of war going on from the very first 3 episodes. This version wanted to establish that there is a dark and grittier edge to it, but also show the light hearted and fun nature of the adventure across the different nations and the lessons each character learns. In my opinion, for every great moment this series provides and gets right, there was an empty void where any connection to original show or even to the characters themselves was severed.
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Gordon Cormier was really good as Avatar Aang. In many ways, he nails the character’s many emotional states as he slowly comes to grips with the loss of his Air nomad friends and mentor. He captured the pain in the Aang’s heart and also his childish humor in many scenes. I wish he had more time to actually grow out of his reluctant hero stage instead barreling through the most formative moments with his new friends. Lim Kay Siu was wonderful as Air nomad mentor Gyatso and I loved the emotional bond they had in the beginning of the show. Their chemistry was very strong and was the life blood for Aang. Kiawentiio was good as Katara and I felt she was done dirty in this show. She felt too sheepish at times and I wished she was more strong willed. She had her self doubts which is part of her arc, but I wish her steadfast nature was way more present. Everything was handed to her and she never really earns her upgrades in a selfless way as she comes off as more selfish when with Aang. Aside from a major missing character trait, Ian Ousley was excellent as her older brother Sokka. He nailed the characters' strength and humor, but I do wish he was a little bit more awkward. The family drama between Sokka and Katara was great and I liked the way it was resolved even if it was too quick. The 3 of them together make for a decent group, but I didn't feel as if they were really bonded. It felt as if they were following Aang as extra characters instead of being his friends and actual new emotional core of his heart. Utkarsh Ambudkar was awesome as the King of Omashu / Bumi. His playful nature was on full display and his message about making the hard decision as the Avatar and in his own way, as a King, was heard. He isn't the mad genius you love, but more the war torn and world weary older man. Maria Zhang was great as the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors, Suki. She was strong, had a good and ambitious heart. Her instant chemistry with Sokka was cool and I loved their training montage. I wish they took more time to develop the eventual love story between them instead of just jumping right into it.
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Dallas Liu was fantastic as Prince Zuko. He nailed his obsessive desire to capture Aang and bring him back to the Fire Nation. His story was a bit more fleshed out as we get to see the deeper emotional toll of his father's banishment. Dallas also nails the physicality of the character and I enjoyed every action scene. You feel the desperation, pain and overall need to please nature of his broken spirit. Paul Sun-Hyung Lee was great as his guardian and beloved character, Uncle Iroh. He is such a layered character and in the amount of time we get with him, it isn't wasted. I really liked that his past as a warlord was brought up and you see his regret. He is always been the nurturing core for Zuko and he was exactly that for this version of the series. Daniel Dae Kim was perfect as Fire Lord Ozai. He was the tyrannical lord of the Fire Nation that we all know and I loved how cold and unflinching he was in his tactics. There was a moment where I thought we were about to see an emotional side of him come out, but I'm glad I interpreted it wrong. It wasn't a father's care that was being shown to Zuko, it was more disappointment and shame and that was rough. Ken Leung was awesome as Commander Zhao and he nailed the characters arrogance and hunger for respect and power. He wanted forge his legacy in the Fire Nation and I loved his ambition and dedication. He was an excellent adaptation of the villain. On the other hand, we have a character that is not supposed to be focused on so heavily in the first season. Elizabeth Yu was good as Princess Azula, but I believe she missed the point of the character. She is supposed to be the absolute polar opposite of her brother Zuko and truly her "father's daughter". Where Zuko shows doubts and emotion, she shows rage, venom and ice cold dedication to setting the world ablaze. Here she is doubtful, second guessing and sometimes winey as hell. The actress did what she could, but she is the second character in this show that I think was done dirty.
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Takeshi Furukawa takes over the reins as the series composer and he did an epic job. He nailed the emotional beats and made the action even more intense. He incorporates some of the original themes from the animated series and a favorite song returns as well. I do miss the touch of Jeremy Zuckerman and Benjamin Wynn, but Takeshi did a wonderful job. Visually, the show was torn between vibrance and darkness and I wish they leaned more into the vibrance of the worlds without the dark overcast in almost every location. Like I said before, there were so many things that rubbed me the wrong way as this adaptation completely rushes past or condenses so many arcs for the sake of time. The first 20 minutes of the show was a mistake in my opinion, because we see the Air Nomads being wiped out instead of hearing about. Sometimes the stories about an event are more heartbreaking than actually seeing it. That 20 minutes could've been condensed to dialogue like the opening of the animated series. Princess Azula and her friends should have never been introduced in this season until the very last shot of the show. That's precious time wasted to build her up instead of forging Team Avatar. Aang needed to connect more with his new friends and rely on them instead of his dead mentor. That's why they never felt like a team or a new found family for Aang. This show really would've benefited from a 10 episode run instead of 8. In the end, it all boils down to the question of “Was this a faithful adaptation to the original animated series?” I would say that its a good cover album that takes too many artistic liberties and misses the many notes that made the first album a masterpiece. Fans like myself will like it better than the 2010 abomination, but will still see the major flaws. I highly recommend going back and watching the masterpiece the original series is, but if you don't, you'll still be entertained by this adaptation. Let me know what you thought of the show or my review in the comment below. Thanks for reading!
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mistressvera · 2 years
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oceanusborealis · 2 months
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Avatar: The Last Airbender - Aang – TV Review
TL;DR – While it had its clunky moments, the first episode does a good job of setting up this world that we are about to dive into. ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 3.5 out of 5. Disclosure – I paid for the Netflix service that viewed this series. Avatar: The Last Airbender Review – Today, we are looking at an interesting show because I feel that it has all the cards stacked against it. It is a live-action…
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normanblogs · 1 year
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MUPH sa EB
Catch us in today’s #BawalJudgmental segment of Eat Bulaga! Show starts at 12noon. As a prelude to the start of #MUPHsaEB, our guesting revolved around Pageant Coaching/Mentoring. Together with #PageantCoach Shandy Montecarlo Lim, #PasarelaExpert Ian Mendajar and former Bb. Pilipinas titleholder Marina Benipayo (now TV actress), we each went through the usual drill of telling about our special…
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modelsof-color · 5 months
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Dut Bol by Ian Lim for Wonderland Magazine December 2023
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nudesnoises · 2 months
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Ian Lim
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