#no one will ever convince me that they understand these characters half as much as I do EXCEPT for Neil Gaiman Obvs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

artist-issues · 6 months

Text

I Saw Wish

And it was the worst animated Disney movie I’ve ever seen. I have to watch it again before I can get into the nitty gritty details. But I don’t need details to sum it up, because my dad actually said it perfectly as we left the theater:

“It was like someone who didn’t really understand Disney movies tried to make a Disney movie.”

Both the form (the technical arts of filmmaking) and the content (the morals, values, and themes of the movie) were totally horrible.

I don’t know who’s fault it was. Jeremy Spears was in the storyboard room and Mark Henn and Eric Goldberg did some 2D animation. But they must have gotten outvoted, or they must not care anymore.

Because holy cow. Here’s some stuff that’s just off the top of my head.

SPOILERS. Not that it matters, because nothing interesting happens in this movie.

The writing? Terrible. Ninety percent of it feels like the characters are filling time with quirky one-liners that are trying too hard to be appealing, then failing, then taking you out of the movie. The jokes aren’t funny. The characters just respond to each other in conversation to check a one-liner box. The other twenty percent is whole conversations repeating tell-don’t-show exposition that has already been covered, usually twice, in previous scenes. Like if in Tangled, every scene had included some variation of Rapunzel saying to friends and enemies alike, “I have to see the floating lights so I’m sneaking to the castle with this thief who wants a mysterious tiara I hid from him. Don’t tell my mother, she’s a bit overprotective!” Over. And over. And over.

The character motivations are way too broad. Asha? Her dream is just “that everybody around me gets to be happy.” That’s it, in a nutshell. No deeper exploration of that. Nobody asks, “why do you care so much?” Nobody tries to convince her she should look out for herself, and then she proves she was right all along. The King? We are told (not shown) that he doesn’t want anyone else’s dreams to be “destroyed.” But he in no believable way expresses that that motivation is still what’s driving him during the movie—what’s driving him is just a plain old lust for power, no nuance.

By the way, the whole premise of the movie? Undercooked. Half-baked concepts strung together with no definitive meaning. Therefore, it’s not believable. Example: The characters act like the wishes are beautiful—well, actually, no, this movie doesn’t know how to show, so there’s not a lot of meaningful acting—the characters just tell us that wishes are “the most beautiful part of someone,” and that’s why it’s worth going through this adventure to give their wishes back to them. But there’s no proof of that in the movie. In fact, it directly kicks it’s own legs out from under that idea, because it has every character who gives up their wish forget that part of themselves. Asha’s grandfather has forgotten his wish, but that doesn’t make him any less “beautiful.” She, and everyone, still treats him like he’s this wonderful old man who deserves the world, who everyone loves…but why is he so appealing? If he “gave up the most beautiful part of him?” The only character who is changed by their lack-of-wish is the Sleepy-analogue character…who is just sleepy, which is described as “boring.” But nobody else who’s given up their wish in the whole kingdom acts like that. It’s just him. Also, the King acts like it’s so important to protect the wishes from destruction. But what does destroying a wish look like? That actually happens to Asha’s mom. Her wish-bubble is broken, literally, and she just says she feels grief. But like. Why? She never remembered it in the first place; it had been missing from her life for years. Also, what the heck is a wish?! It seems to range from broad concepts like “inspire people” to “fly.” Just “fly,” like a bird. The desire to levitate off the ground is the most important, beautiful essence of one background character. Like, what?! But no character ever has the why behind their wish to make us care.

I could go on and on about that point. Like, think about Disney movies that wrote the book on how to make movies about characters with wishes. If Ariel were in Wish, her bubble would look like “dancing and learning and exploring on the Surface with someone who understands her.” But we believe that that is her real, genuine wish, and that it matters to her, because we are shown why being understood is so important to her. Because it’s missing from her life. There’s a scene where she explores a boat alone, and even her best friend doesn’t get excited about it with her. Her dad won’t listen to her point of view. Her siblings don’t ask her about her life even when they think she’s in love. She wants what she wants because of pieces of her life that we are shown.

We are never shown why Asha’s grandfather is obsessed with inspiring people, so we have no reason to believe it, or care whether he gets it or not. We can’t feel disappointed when his wish is said to “never come true,” like we did when Quasimodo was abused by the people he wished to join. We can’t feel elated when he finally “gets” his wish, like we did when Simba smiles on Pride Rock remembering the same way he used to as a cub and claims the crown with a roar. We don’t have anything to hang on to, nothing to relate to, nothing to grasp and feel with the characters. So we don’t feel, because they didn’t put the work in to help us feel. They just say, “the mom’s feeling grief. Feel grief.” And expect us to do the work ourselves. I have to stop harping on this point and move on.

But The main point of the movie is very broad because of that lazy premise, and it’s barely reinforced by any kind of appealing storytelling. If I had to guess, the point would be “Keep wishing for more even when it’s hard.” But the story they told to communicate that meaning was so unimpactful. Asha doesn’t have a dream of her own that’s such hard work to accomplish! (Neither does her grandfather; his wish is “to inspire people.” And at the end, we’re supposed to see him strumming a guitar and believe it’s inspiring? We were never shown how he worked hard to learn how to play the instrument. Or that he carved it with his own hands, or anything like that. So there’s no meaningful demonstration of working hard for it or achieving your wish even if it’s far out of reach.) And nobody except the king is trying to take wishes away from anyone, and he just does it literally, after they voluntarily give them to him, so there’s not even any impactful demonstration of “don’t let anyone tell you your wishes are dumb or unachievable, or stop you from reaching them.” Even when he takes them away, it’s just because they…could, someday, be used to threaten his kingdom in a vague, really unlikely way. There are so many things you could do with “keep wishing for more even when it’s hard.” For instance; you could say the main character has always been afraid to dream (wish for more), because maybe when she was a kid something wonderful almost happened but ended in tragedy, so she keeps her head down and doesn’t want much because if you don’t dream you’ll never be disappointed. She takes no risks, and has to learn that sometimes trying and failing is worth more than slogging through life all self-protective. I mean, the pieces were right there. She has this line about her dad, and how she wished he would get better but then he died. She has lines about how nobody should have to live with grief?? Then that’s never addressed again! It’s just a throwaway emotion-moment with no buildup or follow-through to tie it to and support that main theme.

The compositions of too many shots were so terrible. Characters got cut off in weird places. One shot has Asha dead center, with her grandfather on the left side of the table and her mother on the right, having a family dinner with a super exposition-heavy conversation that is meant to be emotionally charged. But despite everything else being perfectly centered, half of her mother’s body is chopped off. The movie’s shot like someone’s mom who doesn’t understand technology tried to take a video with her phone.

The charm of the art “style” wears off basically immediately. I know what they were going for. I see the sketch lines and watercolor textures. This is maybe the first time Disney ever failed to accomplish a visual “look” that turned out good. Everything looks dull. Muted. De-saturated. Slightly out of focus, but not in a cool Spider-Verse way. The sets or backgrounds are lazy; at no point does the scenery look complete; big, empty, boring spaces that do not create any kind of “stage” for impactful moments. The rendering looks unfinished. When Asha’s hair moves during her belting of the “I Make This Wish” song, it’s bad. It’s unnatural. It flops in a way that doesn’t make sense for the weight of her hair. The most impactful visual moments come from the villain, and they’re moments when he looks way too unhinged for the kind of line he’s saying.

There is no interesting character development. Asha goes from believing everyone is basically good and their wishes deserve the chance to come true , to….that, again. That would be fine, she could be a static character, if she proved contrast-characters wrong, in a believable way. But she never does. Because no other characters argue with her except the King. And it goes no deeper than “everyone’s wishes are basically good and they deserve the chance to make them true” vs. “nuh-uh, because I get to decide what makes them deserving.” The King doesn’t have any kind of interesting development, either. They don’t expand on his tragic backstory—it consists of one drawing of him near a broken boat, and a few images of the corner burned off of his family taoestry. They never say “King Magnifico wished for _____ and it was taken away!” They literally never tell you what his wish or dreams were, or what motivated him to create the whole kingdom that the movie’s premise sits on. So there’s no convincing sense of progression, how he got this way, why he’ll keep going “so far.”

The pacing is weird. It undercuts every moment that could have any kind of emotion behind it. One minute Valentino is suavely bouncing around, then he’s given a two-second beat to blubber with badly-animated tears that he’ll miss Star—then he instantly gets to have another funny one-liner so we forget he might’ve been sad a second ago. We’re clearly supposed to believe that the King and his wife are devoted to each other, and his turning evil was such a big betrayal, but there’s no time and no impactful evidence for us to believe either of those things. And even if we did, the moment he’s defeated and trapped in a mirror, and begs to be let free, the Queen kind of shrugs it off, makes a forgettable one-liner, and tells them to throw him in the dungeon. And he doesn’t look remorseful. And we don’t even get to assume he’s embarrassed or emotionally devastated that he’s come to this—because the last thing he says is “nooo, the dungeon is so smellyyy!” Like this is a half-baked LEGO short that can’t get emotionally deeper than what an actual 3 year-old’s parents might be okay with.

And that’s the worst offense: The movie is not genuine. It works hard for nothing, and it has no vulnerability. It just uses old Disney standbys to pretend to be vulnerable. Have the music swell and the characters gasp and the songs drip emotion when characters are meant to be saying or doing something emotional.

But truthfully, think of all the Disney movies you’ve ever seen with the hardest emotional moments. The sheer joy of Genie when he realizes he’s free. The anguish when Elsa thinks Anna’s been frozen forever, or when Anna thinks she’s dead. The trauma when Simba loses Mufasa. The longing and dreaming of Ariel when she reaches up out of her grotto. The sense of foreboding when Mother Gothel says “fine, now I’m the bad guy” or the heartbreak in Rapunzel’s eyes when she thinks Flynn has abandoned her, or the shame on Aladdin’s face when Jafar reveals he’s a street-rat, or the horror of cruelty when the stepsisters rip up Cinderella’s dress, or Kala’s tears when Tarzan leaves her in the treehouse, or Sarabi’s tears when Simba comes back, or Mulan’s father tossing aside the sword and token of the Emperor to embrace Mulan, or heck, even just Lilo pushing Stitch in the woods and telling him “get out of here.” This movie has no moments like that. It has moments you can tell that the filmmakers wanted to hit like that—but they don’t.

Because no work is put into building them up. You know how much Simba loves Mufasa, because you’ve been watching their chemistry more than any other character all the way up till he dies. You know how much Mulan wants to please her family because she spends all of Act I desperately attempting to do that. You know Quasimodo believes the world below is beautiful and wants them to accept him because he has interesting things like—talking to gargoyles, convincing us that he’s lonely; building a scale model of the townspeople, convincing us that he sees them in a beautiful way and wishes he were beautiful in more ways than one like them, too.

Right down to the facial expressions, none of them are as anguished, happy, sad, excited, silly, in any convincing way like all of Disney’s other movies. Asha’s “low moment” when she’s afraid her “wish” hurt everyone else (still vague on what that wish ever was) lasts two seconds, she’s not crying, she’s barely sitting with slumped shoulders, and her family barely spend two seconds comforting her. They basically just say, “aw, no, it’s not y fault, it’s the king’s.” And she’s like, “yeah okay” and that’s that. It’s like the animators we’re afraid to animate really intimate emotions on the characters’ faces. The voice actors, too.

And the whole movie is peppered with Easter eggs to past Disney movies. But all that does, if you really know Disney beyond the visuals, is make you think of how hollow this movie is in comparison. How much you wish you were watching Cinderella or The Little Mermaid or something with depth and vulnerability instead of Wish.

#I’ll talk more in an organized fashion later #wish #disney’s wish #wish Disney #wish 2023 #critique #spoilers

534 notes · View notes

carrotsofthepirabbean · 7 months

Note

I will say I think part of the reason OG Kirk isn't more popular on Tumblr is because he can't be crammed into the 'If one part of a ship is the unemotional logical one the other one MUST be the bouncy himbo sparkle softboy' cliche. Kirk can be goofy and has a good sense of humor, he teases and laughs, but speaking in Lord of the Rings terms, Kirk isn't Pippin, he's Aragorn.

Which is SO much tougher for the 'must distill every variety of character into the same 5 different people' crowd on Tumblr. There isn't an 'Aragorn' slot because 'incredibly complicated' isn't descriptive enough for cliche. Like yes, he's charming, but it's the quiet sort of charming. Yes, he's a strong athlete and a fighter, but he's fundamentally a shockingly huge nerd and spends his private time reading poetry and thinking about philosophy and what it means to be a leader. Yes, he's haunted, but he has a fundamental hope that keeps shining through. Kirk's got a serious job, and he's a serious person. He's an Adult kind of adult. He's one of the last survivors of a horrific genocide. He's killed people with his bare hands.

Spock wasn't bowled over by how bright and shiny and cuddly Kirk was. Because underneath everything, there's a fundamental sadness and loneliness to Kirk, and a simmering possibility of rage that most people would consider Abnormal. And Spock shares those qualities, though for different reasons. The thing that really shakes Spock (besides Kirk's iron sense of loyalty) is that there are times where KIRK is more coolheaded and professional than Spock is. In everyday terms, Kirk is easily and confidently emotional in a way Spock was always taught was a weakness, but when the shit hits the fan Kirk gets this shine of cold, calculating, James Bond-like brutality/practicality that not only meets Spock's Vulcan control, it will at times go PAST it. Surviving that genocide gave Kirk access to both a level of iron-willed 'do whatever is necessary to live no matter what' and a level of genuinely bloodcurdling rage that, when death is on the line, reads sometimes like a Vulcan on steroids. In a battle-type situation Kirk has absolutely looked at Spock and snapped like 'for god's sake, control yourself', and that is some whiplash a Vulcan doesn't just get OVER.

At the very start OG Kirk is already both wildly famous for and frighteningly good at being a commander, better than Spock is by miles, which forces Spock to confront his self-hate fueled 'Vulcans are better' prejudices over and over again until Spock has a starry-eyed admiration for Kirk that knocks him so hard into love that Spock's teeth rattle. Kirk isn't Some Soft Boy that grows on Famous Vulcan Spock against his will. Kirk is the most talented Starfleet officer in generations- He's Horatio Nelson, except not an imperialist asshole. Spock is (at first) just Some Science Guy who managed to nail one of the most coveted jobs in Starfleet.

Like, what is Tumblr going to do with a Kirk (who is supposed to be the bouncy soft boy half of Spirk) who looks coldly at an alien who is killing people and without hesitation goes 'I am a military man, we have a mission, we don't have time to understand motivations, kill that thing' and calmly walks off? And then Spock, (the unemotional logical one) is the one going after him going 'please, this is a thinking creature, it could be scared or hurt, think of its feelings, at least let me try to talk to it'. And like, the big lesson of the episode is KIRK being convinced by Spock to care more and be more empathetic?

Like, that's not some shit Tumblr can fit into its 'five acceptable personalities for every single ship ever'. There isn't a category for 'one is the logical one and the other one is the guy in charge on the battlefield that the men point their swords at while yelling "to the king!"'

But, it does make me a bit sad, because god, the relationship between Kirk and Spock is unique. Because Kirk is SUCH a freak. If there's a fictional personality grouping Kirk is a part of it's like Kirk, Chris Evans' Captain America, Aragorn, and nobody.

I super agree! AOS Kirk fits the bill more for the ship dynamics tumblr focuses on (and I do really love Chris Pine's performance, not half because it was what introduced me to Star Trek in the first place), but I do find TOS Kirk more intriguing because he has such layers. He's scarily competent, youngest captain in Starfleet and it's not like you get in that position by being a sunshine flower boy - he's got a streak of cold practicality that, yeah, is super apparent in Devil in the Dark. But he's also warm, loving, and physically affectionate with his closest friends, professional with his subordinates and his duties, calculating with his enemies, and overall an exceedingly intelligent individual who does not take his position and responsibilities lightly. And in terms of his relationship with Spock, it was all those things that drew Spock's respect and interest, and not (checks notes) his being a "bouncy himbo sparkle soft-boy". He's just a wonderful character <3

#I do however love a good 'spock blushes cause jim is physically affectionate' thing though #as is clearly apparent in the last drawing i posted. but i love jim for being a responsible and mature leader #including the kind of cold and practical decisions he makes #as well as being a warm and affectionate man #god i do fucking lvoe that man god help me #ask #star trek #jim kirk #star trek tos

218 notes · View notes

ihavethedreamies · 3 months

Text

Expert | Easy to Expert (3 v7)

Lee Yongbok (Felix) & Bang Chan - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Felix/AFAB!Reader/Bang Chan

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Fluff, Fluffy Smut

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Lingerie, Pet Names (Love, Pumpkin, Baby Girl, etc.), Multiple Partners, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Sixty-Nine, Threesome, Double Penetration, Anal Play, Sex Toys - Butt Plugs, Anal Sex, Bang Chan has a Monster Cock (of course), Cockbulge (hmm), Unprotected Sex (Bad Idea, Don't Do It), Daddy Kink gets awakened, this is actually really soft and fluffy believe it or not, Bromance

Disclaimer: I do have the whole cock-bulge thing in this. I understand this could be a bit offensive to some who are on the heavier side (I am in that group as well). I also have the reader being pretty short even though I am 5'7". The reason being is I have a size difference kink/fetish, mostly because I am not small, and so I put it into a lot of my stories. Sorry if this doesn't align with your body type, but I also imagine a character in my place for these, so I don't sometimes take into account what others do.

Author's Note: This is the last one I am writing in this series, so let's see what absolute nonsense shows up here. I'm going to TRY and tone it down…

PS. I wrote the first not before I wrote the story, and this is after. This went a COMPLETELY different direction than I thought it would. Get ready for tooth rotting fluff AND smut.

PPS. Bang Chan is my bias and Felix my bias wrecker so that is why this one ended up like this…

-> Part 1 <-

-> Part 2 <-

-> Ver. I.N. <-

-> Ver. Seungmin <-

-> Ver. Hyunjin <-

-> Ver. Han <-

-> Ver. Lee Know <-

-> Ver. Changbin <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"What?" Chan stopped dead in his tracks, Felix continuing past him. He thought for a second that he was hearing things, or someone else's conversation. The younger man stopped as well, turning back to his best friend.

"(Y/N) wants a threesome, you in?"

"Why are you asking me?" Chan sputtered and Felix shrugged casually.

"She asked for you specifically so…"

"She asked for ME?"

"Yes?" Chan's head was swimming. He had to admit, ever since he found out a few months ago you couldn't cum, he was looping in his head. It wasn't romantic intentions behind him trying to figure out what he could do for you…Not at all. He had been trying to convince himself he no longer had romantic feelings for you, especially since you started dating Felix. It was obvious to the others, even Felix, but he appreciated that his hyung denied it even to himself.

"Are you sure?" The eldest of the group asked your boyfriend.

"I wouldn't be asking you if I wasn’t. She picked you like a month and half ago, I've had time to think about it." Felix huffed, amused. Chan was getting flustered, and the younger man knew why.

"Are you thinking tonight?" They were already on their way to your apartment for movie night.

"Well…yeah. We can move it though."

"You really think I can just sit and watch a movie with you two now?" Chan shook his head, but continued walking. Felix fell into stride next to him and they continued to your place.

Felix messaged you when they were about fifteen minutes out, and you scrambled off the couch to get ready. To say you were excited was an understatement. But you were also lowkey terrified. It was not a hidden fact among the friend group what Chan was packing. You had even heard from other girls on campus. Not a traditional player by any means, he had been around the block. He was an incredibly sweet gentleman, but a lot of girls just wanted to fuck him to say they conquered the beast. That was literally what they said. The thought made you shiver as you prepared. Stepping out of the bathroom, you looked yourself over in the mirror. Felix had gotten you a set of wolf cosplay lingerie, fitting for Chan. It was more or less a bikini lined with gray fur. The silicone plug he got you a month ago now had a grey furry tail attached; the texture tickled the backs of your thighs. A matching headband with grey ears sat on your head, it was a little too big though, so you hoped it stayed on. Furry cuffs surrounded your ankles and wrists as well. The bottoms of the set were more like shorts than panties, but there was a hole cut out of the crotch which gave access to your cunt as well as let the tail plug sitting in your ass. You shook your arms to get rid of some of the nerves. Though, they just came back two-fold when you heard your boyfriend and his friend arrive. Your shaking increased as you padded to stand at the foot of your bed, waiting for them to remove their coats and shoes and meet you in the bedroom.

"Go on, bro." Felix told Chan, his accented English hitting your ears. Were they going to speak like that the whole night? Fuck yeah.

"Oh, baby girl!" Chan was floored as he entered your room. You looked so fucking cute, his heart thumped hard, and he felt his pulse in his cock too. The pet-name did stuff to your insides, and you nervously wiggled, the tail wagging a bit from the momentum. To be honest, before you and Felix hooked up, you were tempted to go to Chan. With his reputation, you were sure he could have managed, but you in no way regretted that it was Felix. Your boyfriend followed him in and came to admire you as well. You turned toward him as he settled only a foot away from you.

"Good job, love." He praised and you both turned back to Chan. He was still gaping, and you were still too nervous to look him over completely. He just had grey sweatpants on and a black sweatshirt. You desperately wanted him to take it off so you could get a better look at him. You had seen his perfect body many times, but you wanted to touch it. Your fingers fidgeted with themselves, the black painting nails at the ends catching Chan's eye.

"Rules?" You prompted Felix and he looked at you, back to his friend then shook his head.

"Just tell him no if you want." he told you and you blinked, then again. Seriously? He would let his friend kiss you? Fuck your holes and fill you with his cum? That was four of the rules out the window. Plus, if he wasn't going to lead Chan through this, then the final one was trashed as well. The thought made your core clench as you finally looked back to the other Australian.

"Go on." Felix assured you and you took a hesitant step forward, then trotted over to Chan who was still looking at you in awe. His hair was brushed up and back some, framing his forehead. You would have been fine just looking over every detail of his handsome face, but you needed even more. Your small hands went to the zipper of his hoodie, and he let you pull it down. He huffed at your pout when you saw he had a t-shirt underneath.

"It's below freezing out there, baby girl." He told you, amused by your reaction. You mumbled something incoherent, and he laughed. The sound pierced you, made you let out a small whimper, pushing his sweatshirt off. He continued to watch, amused, casting a glance at Felix who looked just as entertained by you. You took a deep breath, sneaking your hands under his shirt and mewling as your warm fingertips brushed over the ridges of his abs. With his assistance, you removed the shirt completely and Felix saw your thighs clench. While he wasn't thrilled by how turned on you were already, he wasn't too surprised either. You were honest with him and admitted you almost went to the eldest for assistance before you and Felix got together. He appreciated your honesty, and therefore trusted you. Didn't mean his pride wasn't a little hurt.

"Oh, my god." You gasped out, your touch tickling Chan some. He laughed, his gorgeous smile distracting you for a second.

"Can I kiss her, 'Lix?" Chan asked politely and you leaned in some more.

"Yeah, I guess." Your boyfriend allowed and you let him kiss you. He was rough, more so than you expected. Chan knew better, he was there to fuck you, not make love to you. He would leave the sensual kisses to Felix. He tilted his head, his hand going to the back of yours and his slid his tongue in your mouth. You keened at the feeling. He was good. Too good. You pulled back a trail of saliva connecting your mouths.

"D-don't do that again." You muttered, your face red. He nodded, humming in agreement. Felix snorted playfully. His trust was well placed. Not wanting to step over the line, Chan stayed mostly still as you sank to your knees before him. Seeing him shirtless in the grey sweatpants was already sinfully attractive, you wondered what he would be like fully naked. An adonis carved out of marble for sure. There was already a bulge from his hardening cock, but it was mostly hidden by the thick material. He laughed at your eagerness as you hastily pulled the waist band away. Your eyes widened as he stepped out of his pants. He was nowhere near being fully hard, but his black briefs were already straining.

"Fuck." You wheezed. You were salivating like the wolf you were dressed as. You fiddled with the tag on the black choker you had on, Felix's name engraved into it. As long as you only fell for Chan's cock, it was fine. You turned to look back at your boyfriend anyway and he gave you a reassuring smile. He had looped over every possible scenario in his head over the last month, knowing to almost a T at that point what would make you react in what way. So far, no surprises. Even though to some you hadn't been dating long, you spent as much time together as possible, so he knew you well. You had been friends for years before then too.

"C-Can you…" You drifted off, wanting to get a good view of Chan's briefs coming off. He smiled and did as you wordlessly requested. He felt a little sheepish under your gaze, honestly, as you ogled him. Adonis indeed. You literally watched his cock harden further under your appreciating gaze. You licked your lips, desperate to wrap them around him. Felix ended up not speaking the rule you had first decided on, but you were a bit worried about what it would do to you to let Chan cum down your throat.

"Can we do something?" Chan suggested, snapping you out of your daze. He also looked at Felix.

"Sixty-nine?" He finished the request and Felix stiffened a bit. Knowing Chan, he might be able to make you cum from that and your boyfriend wasn't sure if he was okay with that. The eldest was definitely the expert of the group and mastered the art of sex like the instruments he could play. But, when he looked into your big, pleading eyes, he couldn't say no. With a slow nod you hopped to your feet giddily and Chan chuckled, following you to the bed. He nodded for you to climb over him once he was on his back. Straddling his face, he wrapped the tail around his hand just to hold it out of the way. The panties gave him perfect access, the fur ticking his cheeks a bit though.

"Sit on me, baby girl." He urged and you lowered your hips. You weren't expecting the immediate pleasure you got from his tongue. He immediately swirling it around your clit, sucking hard. You gasped, falling forward, finding the head of his now fully hard cock in front of you. Once again, your eyes met Felix's and he nodded. Eagerly, you wrapped your hand around Chan's cock, your fingers not even able to touch. You wrapped your eager lips around the head, your jaw protesting some at the stretch. Chan rumbled under you; his strong arms surrounded your thighs to hold you where he wanted you. Your moan vibrated through his dick as you got as much as him as you could in your mouth. It would be too dangerous for you to let him into your throat, you had to center yourself by finding Felix again. He loved that you kept thinking of him throughout. It was also more arousing than he thought it would be, seeing your mouth full of his best friend's fat cock. Chan ate you like a man starved and your boyfriend could see the characteristic twitch in your hips that meant you were close. You were more shocked than Felix that the other man was getting you to the edge so fast. His hand twisted in the tail again, tugging it slightly, and took your clit between his teeth, rolling it and you fell forward as you came, swallowing his cock deeper. Chan grinned as your cunt dripped on his tongue and he let the tail go, letting your orgasm ride out. When you came down, you pulled him out of your mouth, panting for breath.

"Okay, baby girl." Chan eased you to roll off of him, you landed on your back, still breathing harshly. Tears pricked your eyes and Felix instantly came to your side, petting your head softly, shushing you. You looked at him, so pitifully, ready to cry.

"Hey, shh, love." His heart broke seeing you like that and Chan got up on his knees next to you. He could tell you were crying from emotions, not physical feelings, but he still felt bad. At the same time, he was extremely proud of himself for making you cum like that. He had satisfied the goal he set in the past, not ever thinking to dust it off and complete it. Chan's heart thudded again, this time in sorrow. You were too precious.

"I'm sorry, Felix." Your breath hitched and he leaned down to kiss your forehead, petting your hair. Instantly he felt bad for feeling jealous.

"Love, (Y/N), its fine. I'm not mad." He chuckled a bit to reassure you.

"Really?"

"Yes, sweet. I just want you to feel good, okay?" He hummed and you nodded, sniffling. Chan finally saw the relationship dynamic you two really had. It was a dominance and submissive one, but Felix played the role so softly. And you were so cute with it, not a hint of being a brat.

"You want to keep going, baby girl?" Chan made sure and you nodded shyly. He smiled warmly and helped you sit up, removing the loose headband so you could stop fiddling with it.

"Can I take all this off her?" Chan asked and Felix nodded. You sat there like a good girl as Chan gently undid and removed everything from you but the black choker. He even took the tail off the plug, leaving the silicone toy inside you. The other man also took the tie from your hair, letting it fall over your shoulders. The way he looked at you actually warmed Felix's heart. He also knew if you asked him, he would be open to letting Chan in on your relationship. If it was him…he could share you. That was something to bring up later though. You shivered a bit, now a tad chilly and Felix smiled, climbing on the bed to hug you from behind.

"Good girl." He soothed and helped Chan maneuver you to sit on his lap, back to him. Felix placed a soft kiss to your lips, and you whined at the feeling of Chan's cock wedged in the cleft of your ass. Felix had decided not to turn the vibrations on, planning it as a surprise. The encounter turned out to be softer than he originally thought it would be.

"What're you thinking, 'Lix?" Chan knew him too well, could see the gears turning. His eyes met the eldest's and you looked up at him too. His eyes cast to yours. It wasn't a secret that you had a huge crush on Chan about a year ago, but you never pursued it. Little did you know, Chan had liked you too, for a while. He didn't even piece together, that's what it was at first, but Felix knew. Even when Chan would deny it to himself, Felix knew. Felix could still sense your love for himself, but he also saw how you looked at his best friend.

"You want him too?" Felix asked and you didn't understand the question at first. Wasn't that why he was there? The other man figured it out immediately though.

"Felix-"

"I'm not stupid, hyung." He huffed playfully and his true meaning registered.

"Felix?" you asked him, implying your question in your tone. Are you sure?

"We can discuss it after, but don't feel guilty." Your boyfriend kissed you softly on your cheek under your eye.

"Want him here?" Felix continued, helping you settle on Chan's lap, stroking his fingers through your soaked folds. You nodded softly, letting the man behind you hold you in his arms. You felt so secure, even more so with Felix there too.

"Think you can make her cum again?" Felix challenged and the other man smirked.

"Let's see." He nuzzled behind your ear, one of his hands sliding down your stomach till his fingers hit your clit. You whimpered as he swirled over it, then slid both fingers home. You sighed as his fingers filled you. They were thicker and longer than Felix's, but just as talented it seemed. His palm rubbed hard over your clit as he scissored the digits in you, the pad of one finding the rough spot on your back wall. You twitched when he rubbed over it and Felix watched the gears turn in Chan's head. His fingers left your core, rubbing back up to your clit, and he exposed the little nub further. He was an expert, Felix decided. He learned your reactions instantly, knowing just what to do next. Chan then fucked three fingers into you, harshly pressed against your further exposed clit with his palm. His fingers crooked hard and up, his palm swirling your clit and you shivered hard, head tossed back to land on his shoulder. You were close. Once again removing his fingers, he took your button between two fingers, pinched hard and pulled your nub, and Felix watched your cunt spasm as you came. The slight bit of jealousy he still felt dissipated when he saw the way Chan looked at you. He nuzzled your temple with his nose as you trembled, kissing the crest of your ear. As you shuddered, coming down again, your head rolled so you could look at him.

"Fill her up, hyung." Felix allowed, smiling as your eyes widened.

"'Lix~" You reached out for him, Chan still loosely hugging you to him. The eldest smiled fondly as Felix came to you, the smile on the other’s face was so warm. Chan could tell how much you two loved each other, and he was honored you both were willing to let him wiggle his way in. When he was within reach, your hands stroked over your boyfriend's pretty freckle covered cheekbones.

"Let’s have Channie fuck you, hm?" He cooed, the words racier than his tone implied. You whined with a nod and Chan chuckled softly at your cuteness. You both were so cute.

"Okay, baby girl. Tell me if it’s too much." The man behind your spoke into your ear, his arms holding you closer, his right hand coming to cup your left breast. You never got much sensation there, but you did flinch a bit when he pinched your nipple. Chan loosened his hold, moving his hands to rest at your hips, and Felix's moved to your waist. You let them move you around like you were a ragdoll till you were kneeling, cunt hovering over Chan's cock.

"Good girl." Felix praised, kissing the corner of your mouth as they both led you to sink on the eldest's dick. The feeling knocked the air out of you, he was so fucking big. You couldn't help but ponder how much bigger he could be if he was taller. He whispered soothing words in your ear, Felix kissing over your collarbone. You breathed, using the same technique as when your boyfriend fucked into your ass. Chan groaned, your cunt was so hot and tight, and he could feel your slick gummy walls perfectly. It made you all the more addicting. He could also feel the bump of the plug in your ass through the walls of your cunt. When Chan felt your cervix kiss the head of his cock, he halted your descent, a good inch or two left.

"M-more." You pressed and Chan rubbed circles over your lower stomach. He smirked, he could feel the bulge of his cock already, and you mewled when he pressed down.

"You sure, baby girl?" Chan's voice had gotten huskier somehow, deeper, rumbling through you. Felix smirked and lowered his voice himself, bringing his mouth to your other ear. What your boyfriend planned on saying next would probably earn him a playful smack later, but he was so eager to see your unfiltered reaction. Your eyes were already blank, nothing but cock on the brain.

"Tell daddy how you want his cock." Felix ordered you and Chan gasped as your cunt squeezed him hard. He huffed, thinking he misheard what Felix whispered to you at first.

"Want daddy deeper~" You whimpered and the men both groaned at your plea.

"Yeah?" Felix teased you further.

"Yes, sir~" You pled to him instead and he smiled. You were too fucking cute. There was a very specific reason Felix preferred you called him sir during sex, and that reason was splitting you open on his cock. At first, he didn't want to use 'daddy' because he was jealous, thinking it might make you think of Chan. Especially since you jokingly called the eldest that all the time. But now…everything worked out perfectly.

"Okay, pumpkin." Your boyfriend's pet name for you changed and the new word made your core pulse around the other's dick. Chan knew that you both went full into roleplay mode at that.

"Daddy~" You whined, and he laughed, acquiescing. You yelped when his hips shifted under him better, letting him thrust up hard, burying his cock all the way in you. Words escaped you, only a string of babbles left you. Felix smiled and shuffled down the bed more. Chan watched, curious, and almost protested as the other man moved. He just let Felix do whatever though. Your legs were spread to sling over Chan's, holding them open. Felix's hands came to your inner thighs, spreading you further and he marveled at your folds straining to take Chan's massive cock. Your entire body jerked when he flicked his tongue at your swollen clit, his tongue lightly brushing over the other's dick. The man's arms tightened a bit around you as you slumped into him further, and with one more flick of Felix's tongue, you fell apart again. At this point, your cunt was burning from the overstimulation, but your boyfriend knew if you got over the crest of pain, you could just keep on going. After your spasms went away, he sat back to just watch again, nodding to Chan.

"Ready, baby girl? Want daddy to fuck ya good?" His hand came to rest under your jaw, putting just enough pressure for you to feel it but not restricting your airway.

"Please!" You mewled, head lolling back and forth. His other hand was still on your stomach, and Felix put his hands on your hips to help, lifting you slightly and pressing you back down as Chan fucked up. You gasped, your cunt stung from the friction, but the pain was so good as the man behind you railed you. It was a good thing Felix was okay with Chan joining, you thought on later, because you didn't think you could live never taking him again. You were definitely a size queen and Felix marveled at you taking his friend like a champ.

"Ah, fuck, (Y/N)~" Chan was getting close, and he looked to your boyfriend, asking permission. Felix looked at your fucked out expression.

"Cum in her." he told Chan, and he got as deep as he could and let go. Your stinging core piqued, the pain burning into pleasure, and you weren't sure if Chan filling you with his sticky cum was what put you over or Felix's voice.

"Oh, good girl~ Fuck!" The man moaned himself as he felt his cum overflow from your cunt and drip down past his balls and onto the bedding. Felix was still rock hard, not having came or been touched at all that night, but he was fine dealing with himself in the shower if you were too tired.

"Felix!" You reached for him again and he came back to you.

"What do you need, pumpkin?"

"You…" You pouted and he smiled bright.

"I don’t think your cute little cunt can handle more." He cooed and Chan huffed playfully. He was still hard and really didn't want to pull out anyway.

"Let’s turn her around." He suggested to the younger man. You keened a bit when they moved you around. When your chest met Chan's, he sunk back into you, the new position and angle let him sink deeper. You shivered, falling into him and he laughed.

"You're so cute." He praised. He was content to let you warm his cock, watching Felix scooch forward. His fingers wrapped around the plug, and you breathed as if through muscle memory as he pulled it out. It clattered onto the floor from his tossing it. Could your body handle him filling your ass with Chan in your pussy? Guess you all would find out soon enough. Your breathing shifted when you felt Felix's cock at your pucker, he barely pressed the tip in as he took the lube Chan had reached for on the nightstand. Drizzling more onto himself, he started to ease inside you. You shivered, your back hole welcoming the familiar intrusion.

"So good, pumpkin." Your boyfriend praised. To get in you best, he had to swing his leg over Chan’s, but he didn't mind. Chan helped him adjust you some and they both let you adjust to being completely full. Each breath you pressed out carried a slight moan and your little noises brought grins to both of the men's faces. After witnessing everything, as well as your even-tighter-than-usual canal clenching his cock, Felix knew he wouldn't last long. Might be for the best anyway considering your physical and mental state. Your nails weekly dug into the skin of Chan's chest where you laid as Felix pumped his hips. His thrusts were short and deep, and your body rocking slightly brushed your sensitive clit against the skin of Chan's pelvis. A defined vein that led down to his cock gave just enough of a differing pressure as you rocked.

"Okay, love, I'll fill you good than you can take a bath. Daddy and I will take care of you tonight and tomorrow." Felix picked the pace of his thrusts up and Chan hissed some as your cunt clenched hard and your nails carved crescents into his skin.

"(Y/N), be a good girl for daddy and cum." Chan's words were all you needed, and you came one more time, Felix spraying your insides white. From the tight clench and the wait, Chan was sensitive himself and you cumming made him fall apart with you two. Even more jizz spurted out from where your body met Chan's and more of the sticky goo leaked from where Felix was inside you. You were a complete mess and Felix wouldn't have it any other way. Your consciousnesses faded, your eyes slipping closed, and the two men praised you for doing such a good job for them. Deciding to just clean you up with a towel for now, Felix helped you rest on your side as you slept, leaving the blanket off you, your skin still hot. Your boyfriend petted your hair as Chan took a quick shower and then they switched places.

"Are you sure?" the eldest asked, stroking your hair softly when Felix sat on the bed behind you.

"You love her, right?"

"I-I…" Chan swallowed hard.

"Hyung?"

"…yes."

"I didn't want to admit it before, but she likes you a lot. I know though that she loves me too…I think she deserves the world, but why not throw the moon in along with it?" Felix meant every word. He loved you so much that he wanted you to be loved twice as much, if not more.

"Well, guess I should change my name to Moon, huh?" Chan huffed and Felix rolled his eyes at the horrible pun.

"Just promise me when you two get married that I can be the best man." The eldest continued and your boyfriend smiled down at you.

"Of course. Wouldn't have anyone else."

-> Ver. I.N. <-

-> Ver. Seungmin <-

-> Ver. Hyunjin <-

-> Ver. Han <-

-> Ver. Lee Know <-

-> Ver. Changbin <-

-> Part 1 <-

-> Part 2 <-

Masterlist

109 notes · View notes

rainysofsunshineao3 · 14 days

Text

It's officially 2 Weeks until Jurassic World Chaos Theory drops so I'm making an overcomplicated really long analysis of:

*THIS* scene because I love them the normal amount :)

SOOOO... Lets start off with this vvv

First off, GOD THE ANIMATION. Screaming, crying, sobbing right now. That hesitant pause, the eyes movement as right before + as she says "Fallen". Our girl is so scared, I'm sure her heart is beating like, 1000 times ber minute. Her eyebrows scrunching together as she finally gets the words out, then raising like a weight is lifted off her shoulders? Goddamn, these animators got me sobbing at a fictional character.

The worry in her expression as she waits to hear what Sammy has to say and as soon as she figures out that it's a positive response, she just gets this look of absolute ADORATION. Look at that full-on open-mouthed smile she gives. She just looks so happy. You can also notice she's taking full, deep breaths again. It isn't really shown in the previous GIF, but girlie was definitely holding her breath. Convince me otherwise.

And then we have this MASTERPIECE vvv

There's so many things in this. She still has that like, half-dazed happy puppy smile and then Sammy kinda just launches herself towards her and you can visibly see the confused "oh shit, wat" widening of the eyes.

And I mean, to be fair, this girl is not the best at romantic cues. Like look at these...

Like, even in the beginning seasons, the way this woman looks at you and you can't tell? And she puts up with your dramatic ass? This is not normal heterosexual behaviour people. I know maybe 1 pair of friends who are straight as a ruler but are a little too comfortable with each other, but that's a minority.

Going back on track...

Yeah, Yaz isn't the best with romantic cues, and also, Damn, Sammy, I can't really blame her. You freaking yeeted yourself at her mouth, of course she wasn't going to kiss you back immediately. Like, y'all, especially for a first kiss, please ask your partner? This actually was my one problem with this scene, and I don't know why it doesn't get talked about more...

Anyway, Yaz closes her eyes the second Sammy touches her (like, fr, girlie was expecting atomic impact) then slowly opens her eyes.

But you can see the good second and a half that Yaz' brain just can't catch up to what's happening and it's the best fucking thing ever. I'd post like, every single time we have a "Yaz Brain Buffer" but tumblr only allows 10 images per post :(

Then finally - actually this time - we have the continuation of the previous GIF (not including the sapphic yearning slides )

Yaz finally just, understands and kisses Sammy back (thank god) but the real focus of this gif is that when they pull away, YAZ IS STILL LOOKING AT SAMMY'S LIPS LIKE GIRL.

Another blink showing "Oh, ok. That just happened" and then we get the sweetest sapphic-yearning-fulfilled soft smile from both of them.

I'd scream with Brooklyn in the background but I CANT cause she's dead *sobs*

God I love these two so much. I need this representation when I was 10. They make me so happy I actually can't describe it. LORD, what a blessing and journey this was.

Hope these two had the same effect on you as they did me :)

TOODLES!!!

#Raine rambles for a bit #JWCC #JWCT #yasmina fadoula #sammy gutierrez #lgbtq #lgbtqia #sapphics #*SAPPHICS*#these two gay #very gay #lets go lesbians #yasammy #yaz x sammy #i will die on this hill #fight me #Yaz' Brain Buffers #XD

73 notes · View notes

hyperfixatedonthisnow · 11 months

Text

Bound by blue ribbon

*not my GIF

Requested by: Anonymous - hiiii! If ya are still taking request!! Then may I get one of the ribbon scene from Rule of Wolves (I think???? I’m not surrrre) but it’s fem!reader x Nikolai? And instead of in her hair, it’s around her neck like a choker??

Just IMAGINE it with the classic character A walks down the staircase looking absolutely STUNNING and character B is s p e e c h l e s s trope! -

Dearest anon, I’m not sure I can properly convey just how much I loved this request. Like, you don’t understand, I am OBSESSED with how good this idea is! So much so that I was worried I wouldn’t be able to write anything that did it justice, but I tried my best. Hope you like it 🙏

Disclaimer (because I’m not looking to get sued): Some lines/dialogue directly borrowed from RoW, with a few minor changes. Obviously, I do not own those words and don’t claim to - they are the property of Leigh Bardugo and all rights belong to her and/or Netflix. Fanfic is for fun only; I am not making any money from this in any way.

Word count: 6Kish

Warnings: NSFW - 18+ only. Dual POV, idiots in love, fluff, the teeniest smidgen of angst if you squint, A little triumvirate cameo, more Genya than anyone - because someone needs to get these idiots together, soft!Nikolai, minimal plot, fem!reader, smut, oral sex (female receiving), P in V sex, unprotected sex (not recommended in real life!)

The party to celebrate Nikolai’s saints day was going to be beyond anything Ravka had ever seen before. Lavish decorations were being put up, the palace kitchens were working on a complicated menu, and the best musicians had been hired to perform. Nikolai hadn’t wanted such a fuss, but the triumvirate had invited every eligible maiden in the country, and most of the neighbouring countries as well, insisting that it was the perfect occasion for the king to finally choose a bride. Which was exactly why you had decided not to attend.

Nikolai had been your best friend since childhood, and you had been in love with him for more than half that time. Over the years, as you had grown from a child into a young woman, you had hoped that maybe he might see you in a romantic light, but unfortunately that hadn’t happened. You didn’t hold it against him, in fact you treasured his friendship, and you wanted only the best for him. You just weren’t sure your heart could withstand watching him fall in love with someone else.

The day of the party, you kept to your room, feigning illness. Nothing too serious, just a headache that would prevent you from attending the party, so that Nikolai could meet the potential woman of his dreams without you having to witness it. Unfortunately, sitting alone in your room all day gave you endless time to think, and your mind was determined to linger on thoughts of Nikolai with some faceless princess. Before dinner, you decided to take a bath, hoping to distract yourself. When you returned to your bedchamber, you found Genya lounging on your bed, alongside a large box.

You stared at your friend, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself. “How did you get in here? And why are you here, shouldn’t you be at the party already?”

“Unimportant,” Genya said breezily, waving her hand as if brushing the question aside, “and yes, I should, but someone had to help you get ready.”

You opened your mouth to tell her she needn’t have bothered but she cut you off with a disapproving click of her tongue. “Don’t waste your time trying to convince me you’re ill, I know that’s a lie.”

“Fine,” you huffed, “but I’m still not going, even if I wanted to - which I don’t - I have nothing to wear.”

Genya gave you a sly smile, holding out the envelope she had hidden in her hand. It bore the royal seal, and was addressed to you, but it had already been opened.

“Have you been reading my private correspondence?” You questioned, irritation bleeding into your tone.

“Mmm,” she hummed, not sounding sorry in the slightest, “it seems the king has sent you a gift. How very thoughtful of him.”

You eyed her suspiciously as you pulled the note from the envelope. The message was short, just two lines, written in Nikolai’s familiar cursive.

~ I hope you’ll wear this tonight. Lantsov blue looks good on you. N ~

Your brow furrowed in confusion. That shade of blue was reserved exclusively for the royal family. The closest you ever came to wearing it was a baby blue silk ribbon that you used to tie your hair back every day. A ribbon you had stolen from Nikolai himself, many months ago. He had been using the blue silk to tie his invention blueprints, keeping the rolls of parchment together and relatively organised when he wasn’t using them. On that afternoon, you had been wearing your hair down, but it was hot in his workshop, so you had pulled your hair back into a braid, snatching up the ribbon to secure it. You had meant to give it back, eventually, but then you had forgotten, and soon it had become a part of your daily wardrobe. You hadn’t even realised he had noticed it.

Genya opened the box to reveal a beautiful gown of pale blue silk, overlayed with a layer of tulle, embroidered in a galaxy of sparkling silver stars. You moved closer, lifting it from the box to finger the delicate fabric.

“See, problem solved.” She announced smugly.

“I can’t wear the king’s colour,” you protested.

“Clearly, he wants you to,” she argued, “would you really deny him?”

You gave her a withering look, “You know full well that I would never deny him anything,” you grumbled, “but people will talk.

“So? Let them,” she shrugged.

You bit your lip, deliberating. On the one hand, the thought of Nikolai buying a dress specially for you to wear on his birthday made your stomach flip pleasantly, but on the other hand, you had already decided not to go to the party and a pretty dress wasn’t going to change your mind. But surely it couldn’t hurt to just try it on … right?

“Well, you have to try it on, at the very least,” Genya insisted, as if she had read your mind, “a dress this beautiful deserves to be worn.”

“Alright,” you conceded, “but just for a moment.”

Genya smiled widely, clapping her hands together with glee.

The second you stepped into the dress, soft silk slipping over your skin, you knew you had made a mistake. Genya laced the corset up with practiced ease and when she was done, she stepped back to admire you. She gasped as she took in the full effect of you in the dress, and as you turned to look at yourself in the mirror you could see why. It fit you like a glove. The colour complemented your skin perfectly and the fabric clung to you in all the right places, accentuating your waist and the curve of your hips. The sweetheart neckline was so low as to almost be scandalous, putting your breasts on full display. You wondered what Nikolai had been thinking when he picked it out. If he had picked it out. Either way, now that you had seen it on, you knew you had no choice but to go to the party. A dress like this demanded to be seen. Genya fixed your hair, sweeping it into an elegant updo and leaving a few curls to fall loose around your face. You kept your jewelry light, diamond earrings and bracelet to match the stars on your dress, but none of the necklaces you tried were quite right. You didn’t want anything that would draw focus from the gown. Genya suggested your hair ribbon, and when you fastened the light blue silk around your throat as a choker, she helped you to tie it into a simple bow at the back.

“Perfect,” she declared, lips curving into a smile, and as you looked yourself over in the mirror you thought she might just be right. The two of you walked together to the ballroom, but when you got there, she dropped you off in the queue of nobles waiting to be announced, insisting you should make a grand entrance. She slipped away before you could argue, muttering something about how she couldn’t leave David unattended any longer, lest he use the opportunity to retreat to his workshop.

You waited at the top of the staircase, just out of sight, as your name was announced. Your heart pounded as you made your way down the stairs. It felt as though everyone’s eyes were on you, but then you saw Nikolai, standing at the foot of the stairs as if waiting for you, and suddenly everyone else melted away. It was just you, and him, and his eyes on yours like you were the only thing that mattered to him.

-------------------------------------------------------

Nikolai was having a dismal evening. So far, he had suffered through what felt like a lifetime of conversations, the longest of which was with the Kerch ambassador, a pompous peacock of a man with an impressively large moustache and unfortunately low IQ, followed by a highly uncomfortable discussion about politics with both the Shu and Fjerdan delegates. To top it off, every time he managed to escape, Zoya would appear with a new princess for him to meet, each one less suited than the last, and he would be forced to spend several painful minutes listening to them talk about their own virtues, of which there were many, apparently.

It seemed like everywhere he turned was some ambassador offering him thinly veiled threats disguised as polite conversation, or one of his ministers trying to push their own agenda whilst they had him alone, or worst of all, another pretty, but vapid, young lady, waiting to be thrust upon him as a potential bride. In truth, he wasn’t interested in any of it, because all he found himself thinking about was you.

As the minutes passed, he started to worry that you wouldn’t come, that you would leave him to deal with the vultures all on his own. And more than that, he worried that he had overstepped with his gift. He had been full of confidence when he helped to design it, chosen every detail to compliment you perfectly, but now he was second guessing himself. Would you like the gown? Would you understand his meaning, about you looking good in blue? Would you return his feelings? He wasn’t sure.

He was contemplating this - whilst only half listening to one of his ministers drone on about the dangers of allowing farmers to have control over their own crops, when Genya suddenly appeared at his side. She politely excused them both from the conversation, pointedly ignoring the minister’s indignation at being interrupted, and looped her arm through Nikolai’s, pulling him away. She led him quickly across the room to stand near the bottom of the stairs.

“Stay right here.” She instructed him sternly, and Nikolai could only blink at her, perplexed, before she was gone, melting back into the crowd without even giving him a chance to respond.

He felt a prickle of annoyance at being ordered around, honestly, wasn’t he the king? He considered walking away just purely on principle, no matter how childish that might be, but then he heard your name being announced, and he wondered if Genya had known. He looked up, his heart hammering in his chest, and when you walked out onto the staircase, he thought it might have stopped beating altogether. You were wearing the gown he had picked out, your hair curled and styled perfectly, and around your throat, that scrap of pale blue silk that haunted his dreams. Usually, you wore it in your hair, and it was eminently practical, but it had the unfortunate effect of making him want to untie it. Seeing it around your throat made that idea all the more appealing. You were stunning. He realised his imagination had not done you justice, could not even come close. The sight of you quite literally took his breath away.

He reached out almost automatically as you got near enough, offering you his hand, and you took it, letting him guide you down the last few steps.

-------------------------------------------------------

“Hi,” you breathed once you were standing face to face, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, but Nikolai just stared at you, slack-jawed, for what felt like an eternity. You began to fidget, feeling self-conscious.

“Do I look ok?” You asked, smoothing down your dress nervously.

He shook his head. “‘Ok’ would be a gross understatement,” he said, “You are a vision.”

Your face lit up in a smile, pleased at the compliment, and you could feel the warmth of a blush spreading across your cheeks. Nikolai dropped your hand, and you almost mourned the loss, but then he pressed his hand to the small of your back instead, and all you could focus on was that intimate point of contact as he led you away from the stairs and further into the room.

“I was beginning to think you had abandoned me,” Nikolai said, his mouth tipping up into a small smile.

“I wasn’t sure I’d come,” you found yourself admitting quietly, “but then someone sent me this beautiful gown, and I changed my mind.”

“You like it?”

“I do,” you assured him, “Thank you. It’s a very generous gift, although it’s your birthday, shouldn’t I be the one giving you a gift?”

“You deserve it,” he said, voice low in your ear, “and seeing you in this dress is a gift for me.”

You were sure you were blushing again. Was he flirting with you? Surely not, that had to be wishful thinking on your part.

“Do you want to dance?” You asked, changing the subject lest you embarrass yourself.

“Yes,” he murmured as he took your hand again, leading you out onto the floor.

He held you close as you moved together through the steps of the dance, effortlessly in sync. You focused completely on him, enjoying the intimate feeling of being pressed against him, his eyes on yours and his hands warm on your body. Being so close to him was the sweetest kind of torture, and you quickly began to feel overheated, as your mind inevitably drifted to all the other ways you could enjoy being close to him, of his hands in much more intimate places. You looked around, trying to clear your head, and you realised that it hadn’t been just your imagination, people were staring, but you found that you didn’t care at all. As your eyes met his again, you were surprised to see that same feeling of desire reflected back at you. Maybe it wasn’t just wishful thinking after all.

When the dance ended, he asked if you wanted to get some air, and you agreed, following him across the room and out into the hallway.

--------------------------------------------------------

Nikolai pulled you into an alcove, just off the main hallway. It was quieter here, with less chance of being seen or overheard.

“Genya and Zoya won’t be happy when they realize you’ve ditched your own party,” you told him, “They’re determined to find you a wife tonight.”

“I don’t care,” he said honestly, “and I’m not interested in any of those girls.”

“You must marry, Kolya. You can’t put it off forever,” you insisted, even though it pained you to say it. “You’ll have to choose someone eventually.”

“You’re the only one I would choose.” He confessed. The words were out before he thought better of them, and there was no way to pull them back.

You studied him carefully, your heart racing. “As your friend?” You asked, offering him a chance to right the ship, to take you back to familiar waters.

He could have lied, could have given you a hundred different easy replies. Instead, he said, “As my queen.”

“Because I’m dependable,” you said cautiously, tentatively, “or because I know all of your secrets?”

"I do trust you more than myself sometimes- and I think very highly of myself." He said, and you huffed a laugh, convinced that any moment now he would take it all back.

“But I would make you my queen because I want you. I want you all the time."

You wanted to tell him that you wanted him too, that he was the only man you had ever wanted, or ever would want, but it wasn’t that simple. He was your best friend, and he was also your king, and you had to be practical. “As your friend, I should tell you that would be a terrible decision. You should make a political choice, take some foreign princess as your bride. Someone who was born to be a queen.”

He met your eyes, voice steady and earnest when he said, "As your king, I should tell you that no one could dissuade me. No prince and no power could make me stop wanting you."

Nikolai felt drunk. You were going to laugh at him. You would knock him senseless and tell him he had no right. But he couldn't seem to stop.

"I would give you a crown if I could," he said. "I would show you the world from the prow of a ship. I would choose you, as my friend, as my queen, as my bride. I would give you a sapphire the size of an acorn." He reached out, fingers brushing over the blue silk ribbon tied around your throat. "And all I would ask in return is that you wear this damnable ribbon on our wedding day."

You should say no, you should tell him he was making a mistake, but you couldn’t. You wanted him too, and not just tonight, but forever. You wanted a future with him, and if you closed your eyes, you could see it, as clear as day. Standing at an altar set before the Saints as a priest named you man and wife. Mornings spent together, eating breakfast and sipping coffee while you discussed the day ahead, and nights spent tangled together in his sheets, sweaty and sated. Soft touches and words of affirmation whispered in the early morning light. Two - or maybe three - golden-haired children, with your eyes and his smile, running about the palace, happy and loved, and constantly getting into mischief. A million inside jokes, and shared looks, and fights about nothing, easily forgiven. A lifetime of moments, big and small, side by side with him. You wanted it all.

“Yes,” you said simply, meeting his gaze.

“Yes?” He repeated, as if he didn’t dare to believe it.

He cupped his hand to your cheek, his palm warm against your jaw. His thumb brushed lightly across your cheekbone, and when your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip, his eyes followed the movement. You wanted him to kiss you, so badly that you ached with the need of it. You tilted your head up slightly, lips parted in invitation.

He dipped his head, then paused, lips hovering just inches from yours as he searched your eyes, waiting for permission. The heat of his gaze was like flames across your skin. You leaned into him, pressing a hand to his chest and you could feel his heart racing beneath your palm. “Yes,” you said again, barely above a whisper, and he bent his head forward, finally, touching his lips to yours. His kiss was soft and sweet, just the barest brush of his lips over yours, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. You made a needy sound, chasing his lips when he moved away, and his mouth curved into a smile.

He pressed you back against the wall, his hands settling on your hips and then his mouth was on yours once more, and this time there was nothing tentative about it. His tongue met yours hungrily, desperately, swallowing your sounds of pleasure. You grabbed a handful of his shirt, crushing the fabric beneath your fingers as you hauled him closer, but it still wasn’t close enough. You reached down with your free hand, tugging your skirts up so that you could curve your leg up around him and he groaned low in his throat, his hand immediately dropping from your waist to the bare skin of your thigh.

He pushed his hips forward, and you could feel the proof of his arousal, pressing against you intimately. You gasped, tipping your head back against the wall. He ducked his head, his tongue darting out to taste the smooth skin of your exposed throat, and he nipped lightly at your pulse point before trailing kisses down to the dip of your shoulder and along your collarbone.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, teeth just barely grazing your skin, and your eyebrows knitted in confusion, wasn’t he doing that already?

“I want to taste you,” he said, his fingers skating up and over your inner thigh to press at you lightly over the lace of your underwear. Oh. The thought of having his mouth on you, there, sent a wave of heat straight to your core.

“Yes,” you murmured after just a brief hesitation, and his smile turned wicked as he sank to his knees in front of you.

You hiked your dress higher, bunching the fabric above your hips so that you could watch him as he dragged your underwear slowly down your thighs and helped you step out of them. He stuffed the scrap of lace into his pocket, before he ran his hand up your calf, bending your knee and then lifting your leg to rest it over his shoulder. He kissed a path from your knee up your inner thigh towards your centre and then he stopped, warm breath ghosting over you and eyes fixed on your core, until you began to squirm. He stilled you with a firm hand on your hip.

“Nikolai,” you started, but you were robbed of the power of speech when he leaned in, his face disappearing between your thighs.

--------------------------------------------------------

He licked a broad stripe across you with the flat of his tongue and you gasped, your hand shooting down to fist in his hair. He licked into you slowly, nose bumping your clit, until you were writhing and panting above him. His fingers worked you over, drawing lazy circles over your clit as he explored every inch of you with his lips and tongue. He dipped two fingers inside you, moving them in and out, crooking them slightly to search for that spot that would have you seeing stars and he knew he had found it when you moaned, clenching around him.

Nikolai had always enjoyed this, drawing pleasure from his partner with his mouth and hands, and he prided himself on being good at it, but he had never found it such a turn on before. His pants were uncomfortably tight, and he thought he could probably come untouched, just from the taste of you and the sounds you made. He turned his head for a moment to draw a ragged breath, and he smiled against your inner thigh when you whined impatiently, using your grip on his hair to drag him back where you wanted him.

He went easily, happy to oblige you, and this time he closed his lips around your clit, sucking it against his tongue. You cried out, your hand tightening in his hair hard enough to make his scalp prickle. He kept the pressure of his mouth gentle but non-stop, as your thighs began to shake, your hips jerking against his face. He couldn’t hold back his moan as he felt your body shuddering, his mouth flooded with wetness when you found your release. He worked you through it, lapping at you gently until finally, you pushed him away with a shaky hand.

He shifted from his knees back to his feet, and you reached for him as he stood, wanting to keep him close. His hair was sticking up at all angles, mussed by your hands, his cheeks flushed, and his lips tilted in a lopsided smirk. He looked utterly debauched in the best possible way. You swiped your thumb across his bottom lip before you leaned in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue, and you were surprised to find that it wasn’t unpleasant.

You reached a hand down between your bodies, to cup him over his pants and he groaned, pushing himself into your palm. A door opened somewhere, the sounds of the party drifting out into the hallway, and you froze, the illusion of privacy shattered.

The noise from further down the hallway brought Nikolai back to his senses so suddenly, he felt like he’d been doused in ice water. Had he completely lost his mind? Your first time together shouldn’t be like this, frantic and dirty, pushed up against a wall in a public place, where anyone could discover the two of you at any moment.

“I’m sorry,” he said breathlessly, “I got carried away, I shouldn’t have … this wasn’t…”

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, trying to find the right words. You deserved better from him. You deserved a white veil, and matching rings, and a promise made at an alter set before the Saints. He wanted to give you all of that, and he would, but not tonight. Tonight, he could at least give you a soft bed, and gentle hands, declarations of love whispered in the dark. Romance, because you deserved that if nothing else.

He pulled back, letting you drop your skirts down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You felt your face fall before you could stop it.

“Oh,” was all the response you could muster, the sting of disappointment sharp, and so bitter you could almost taste it. You closed your eyes, willing away the tears that threatened to form. Was he saying this was a mistake? Had he changed his mind? Had you done something wrong?

“I only meant, we should go somewhere more private,” he said, watching you carefully.

“Oh,” you said again, relief flooding through you.

“Unless… if you’d rather return to the party, that’s fine too.” He clarified.

“I don’t,” you said quickly, and you almost blushed at how eager you sounded.

“No?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow at you.

You gave him a smile that you hoped was sultry. “No. Take me to bed,” you purred, and you knew you’d hit the mark when his eyes darkened in response.

He took your hand, guiding you through the palace hallways until you reached his rooms. He opened the door for you, ever the gentleman, allowing you to enter first, and then he followed you inside, locking the door swiftly behind him. There would be no more interruptions tonight, not if he could help it.

--------------------------------------------------------

You came to a stop by the foot of the bed, waiting for him to join you. He crossed the room in just a few quick strides, pulling you into his arms, and then his mouth was on yours again, hot and demanding. You let your hands roam, over his shoulders and into his hair, before the desperate need to feel his bare skin against yours took over, and you set to work on removing his clothes.

Your nimble fingers made light work of the knot in his cravat, pulling it loose and free of his collar in just a few short movements, and you quickly moved on to his shirt, opening the first few buttons. He pulled back for just enough time to yank the shirt off over his head, and then he was back to kissing you like his life depended on it. When you moved to unbutton his pants, your knuckles inadvertently brushing up against his hardness, he groaned low in his throat and pulled away again, this time to spin you around so that he could unlace your corset and free you from your dress.

He placed kisses across your shoulder, and down the length of your spine as it was revealed to him and once you were completely nude before him, he wrapped an arm around your waist to tug you back against him, his clothed arousal against your bare ass. You brought your hands up to your throat to untie your ribbon, but he stopped you. “Allow me, he murmured, voice low and rough in your ear. He hooked a finger into the bow at the back of your neck, tugging gently until it unravelled, soft silk sliding over your skin, and then he curled it up to put into his pocket, joining your underwear from earlier.

He cupped your breast, thumb circling your nipple until it hardened into a peak, while his other hand travelled down the side of your ribs and across your lower abdomen to your core. You moaned as his fingers found their mark, dipping inside you to gather the wetness there before rubbing gentle circles over your clit. Only once you were panting, your head falling back against his shoulder, and your hips moving in small circles along with his hand, did he nudge you in the direction of the bed. You took the hint, though you were loath to give up the delicious friction of his talented fingers. You moved to sit on the edge of the bed first, watching with bated breath while he took off the last of his own clothes.

Once he was undressed, you scooted backwards onto the bed, so that you were positioned comfortably on the pillows, and he climbed over you, covering the length of your body with his. You gasped as you felt his erection pressing against you, almost, but not quite, in the right place. He pinned one of your hands to the bed beside your head, fingers twining with yours as he dipped his head to kiss you, licking into your mouth until you were both breathless. You bent your leg up around his hip, opening yourself up for him instinctively and he kept his eyes on yours as he flexed his hips, entering you at an agonizingly slow pace. You were warm, and wet, and perfect, and you dug your heel into the back of his thigh, urging him deeper. He groaned, his eyes slipping closed and his hand squeezing yours tightly.

Once he was fully seated inside you, he had to stop. He let his head drop to your shoulder and he held completely still, desperately fighting to get a grip on his self-control. Late at night when he lay alone in the dark, his wildest fantasies playing out behind his eyelids, it was your face he saw and your name on his lips when he came. He had dreamed of having you so many times, in a thousand different ways, but nothing could compare to the reality. It was as if he was suddenly a boy of sixteen again, green and eager, ready to spill himself at the slightest hint of friction. You shifted beneath him, wriggling impatiently and only once he was sure he would not embarrass himself, did he raise his head to look at you.

“Sorry,” he said, the corner of his mouth tipping up into an amused little smirk, “did you need something?”

You just barely resisted the urge to smack him, and instead clenched your inner muscles around him, watching with a smug sense of satisfaction as his eyelids fluttered, the smirk dropping from his face.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his eyes dark with arousal as they met yours, but he still didn’t move.

“Please,” you begged, and you would have been embarrassed by how needy you sounded if not for the way that his hips bucked in response.

He dipped his head, slanting his mouth over yours as he withdrew slowly, almost completely, only to fill you again with a sharp thrust of his hips. His hand was warm in yours, palms pressed together, and fingers intertwined, the connection anchoring you as he started to move in earnest, settling into a perfect, maddening rhythm that was somehow altogether too much, and yet not enough at the same time.

The muscles in his biceps were straining with the effort of holding himself up and you wrapped your arm around his shoulders, pulling him down on to you until his chest was flush with yours. He nuzzled at your throat, as he maintained his languid pace, drawing out your mutual pleasure for as long as he possibly could, and you were torn between the desperate need to climax, and the desire to stay entwined with him like this forever.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he felt the beginnings of his own climax, Nikolai reluctantly released your hand so that he could slip his between your bodies to thumb at your clit. Within moments, he felt you tightening around him, your orgasm beginning to ripple through you, and he kept the movement of his hips slow and steady, drawing it out until you were writhing beneath him. He removed his hand as the last tremors ran through your body, and he lifted his head, mouth finding yours, as he finally allowed himself release. He sheathed himself fully inside you, as he shuddered and came.

He collapsed onto you, pressing you into the mattress, and you stroked your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him close, as you both struggled to catch your breath. Your bodies were tangled together, completely enveloped by each other, and neither of you wanted to move.

“I love you,” he murmured after a moment, turning his head so that he could press a kiss to your temple.

“I love you too,” you assured him, holding him tighter.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the morning, you had woken early and taken the opportunity to study Nikolai in the light of the sunrise, his face relaxed and boyish in sleep, and when he woke, he had nudged you onto your back and made love to you again. That had been followed by a bath, in which you both ended up dirtier than you had been upon getting in, and a second one - strictly for getting clean, and one horrifyingly awkward conversation with your maid, during which the girl giggled and blushed furiously, as you begged her to bring you something to wear. All of this meant that it was late, long past noon, when the pair of you finally emerged from his room.

You walked hand in hand to the council room, where the triumvirate were already assembled. Genya and Zoya were standing over the table, heads bent as they looked over a map, talking quietly together. David sat across from them, scribbling away, fingers stained with ink. Genya lifted her head as you entered, smiling knowingly at you.

Nikolai cleared his throat. “I… well, we, have something important to tell you all,” he announced. “We’re getting married.” Subtle as ever.

“Thank the Saints,” Zoya muttered, without even looking up, “I thought I’d be old and grey before you two ever got your act together.”

“I told you it would work!” Genya said gleefully.

You and Nikolai shared a confused look. “What worked?” You asked.

“The party,” Zoya explained, speaking very slowly, as if she were talking to a pair of particularly dim children, “the one we planned, to push you both into admitting you’re in love with each other, obviously.”

You both just stared at her.

“Someone had to do it,” she continued with a shrug, “Saints knows neither of you were going to do it on your own.”

“I would have done it without your intervention,” Nikolai said defensively, “eventually.”

“Yes, of course you would,” Genya said mildly, her tone just on the edge of patronising.

Nikolai pinched the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut in frustration. “So, just to be clear - you conceived an elaborate plot, which involved throwing an expensive party with hundreds of guests, and making me suffer through hours of mind-numbing conversation with prospective “brides”, all so that you could manipulate us into confessing our feelings for each other?”

“I wouldn’t say manipulate,” Genya objected, “more like give you a loving shove in the right direction.”

“A brilliant plan, really,” David piped up, “and, clearly, effective.”

Genya smiled fondly at him. “Thank you, dear.”

And suddenly it all made sense, the way Genya had come to insist you go to the party, the way she had pushed you to wear the dress even though it was Lantsov blue, the fact that she had made you wait to be announced, and that Nikolai had mysteriously been waiting for you the moment you entered the room. The mysterious coincidence that all the young ladies Zoya had introduced to him were almost comically unsuitable. They had engineered it all.

You couldn’t stop the grin that spread over your face. Perhaps you should have been upset by the idea that they had manipulated you both, but honestly you weren’t. You shared another look with Nikolai. He shook his head exasperatedly, but he was smiling now too, and you knew he shared your feelings on the matter. This whole charade might have been ridiculous, but how could you hold it against them, when it had resulted in the happiest night of your lives.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x reader #fem!reader #shadow and bone #grishaverse #zoya is my queen but not in this fic #my writing #i wrote this #request #patrick gibson

373 notes · View notes

another-lost-mc · 1 year

Text

Player Two LEVIATHAN x gn!Reader 1.7k words | NSFW | Yandere-ish | Developing Relationship Content Warnings: Manipulative and possessive thoughts/behaviour, some suggestive thoughts towards the end. obey me! masterlist

When you arrive in the Devildom and try to get to know him, Leviathan's immediately suspicious of you and even more skeptical of your bold declarations. He has a hard time believing you really like gaming. He assumes you’re just trying to sound like you do to get close to him, for some foolish reason.

He hates to admit how much more interesting you are when you manage to actually convince him that it's a genuine hobby of yours.

When Levi shows you his room, you're amazed and he feels a sense of pride, like his hobbies are validated by someone that understands him. He pretends not to stare at you while you slowly browse the shelves of games and collectibles in his room.

You notice he plays a Devildom MMO game, and you're instantly curious about it. Levi didn’t think you’d be into those types of games - they require a lot of time and effort.

He thinks that maybe, just maybe, you’re not such a boring normie human after all.

You ask him if you can watch him play the game, and you point out similarities and differences when you compare it to the human world MMO you played before.

When you're both called to dinner, it interrupts your conversation about Levi's guild. You tell him funny stories from your previous gaming guild, and he's finally convinced that your interest is legit.

Levi decides to do something nice to help you out - a test to see how serious you really are. He won't give you another chance if you blow this one.

He might happen to have a spare laptop you can use, and he offers to lend it to you. If the game is already installed and ready to play, Levi's just trying to be nice and do the boring installation stuff for you. And if Levi sends you a Recruit-A-Friend invitation to set up your own account, it's because he gets perks from it - he really doesn't care if you play or not.

Levi even goes as far as adding his payment info to your new account to pay the subscription fee. He doesn't have the patience to wait for you to borrow someone else's credit card. "You can pay me back later,” he tells you, even though he has no intention of ever asking for the money back.

You might know how to play an MMO, but he believes he's still got loads to show you about this one. His desk is a bit cramped, and it’s inconvenient dragging the laptop back and forth between your room and his.

He offers to lend you a spare headset - one that’s brand new and still in its packaging from today's Akuzon delivery - so you can use voice comms together, and he can stream his screen to yours while he talks to you directly. Isn't that convenient?

He's already set up a private voice comms server just for the two of you - don't tell his brothers about it though, okay? It's only for the two of you.

When Levi creates a new character to play with yours, he says it's easier than trying to show you things on his maxed-out character.

He chooses to level a tank class to protect your squishy glass cannon character, and he reminds you that he's doing you a favour and saving you from so many unnecessary deaths. If he happens to show off along the way, who could blame him? He's really good at this game, and if you try hard enough, maybe you can be too.

He raids the game's most difficult content with his guild at night. For some reason, he really wants you to watch him play. He doesn't want you to level your character without him, either. (He won't ask you not to, but he secretly hopes you don't.)

You mention that one of his guildmates, someone that doesn't raid, offered to play some low level dungeons with you while Levi's busy. For some reason that upsets him, but he doesn't know why.

Levi's half-focused on his raid while he occasionally checks your character status. He absolutely does not keep track of how long you're in the same dungeon as his guildmate. And he definitely isn't checking whether you're in a separate voice channel together.

By the time his raid is over, you've already sent him a message wishing him good luck and goodnight. He's a bit disappointed that you went to bed so early (even though its well past midnight).

He sees another message from before that, when you told him about a cute pet you found in the game (it's a reward anyone can get from doing a simple quest, it shouldn't be that exciting). You mention offhand that you like collecting pets and you might try to find some more tomorrow.

Levi acts like it's not a big deal when you log in and discover he's sent your character dozens of new pets for your collection. He shrugs and claims he had duplicates that he had no use for. (They weren't, he bought them all specially for you, but he won't admit it.)

By the time you hit max level with your character, Levi's bought you expensive crafted gear and he's planning on getting you the other items you need so you can try raiding with him his guild.

Sometimes he thinks of your character as his own virtual Henry - and spending so much time together means he starts to think about you as his Henry outside the game, too.

What Levi doesn't realize is how genuinely happy you are that he's given you a chance. He was so defensive and secretive about his hobbies, and you hoped having a shared common interest would make it easier for you to make friends in this strange place.

You wanted to prove that unlike his brothers, you understand why gaming and anime gives him so much joy. You don't think it's a waste of time or money, and you can appreciate the hard work he puts into those hobbies even if no one else does.

And you knew he was skeptical of you at first, but things are so much different now. He's not calling you a stupid wannabe human otaku anymore, and he encourages you and helps you like a friend would.

You used to ask Levi if he wanted to play with you - but now, he's asking if you want to play with him, and you know that means he likes you, in his own way.

Sure, it might be weird playing a game with someone in different rooms of the same house, using voice comms to talk to each to each other because it's easier than typing everything. It's definitely easier than having to drag your laptop around, and that's what he tells his brothers when they comment about how weird it is living with two nerds instead of one.

One thing you notice about Levi is that he's more confident behind his screen. He doesn't stutter or get shy the way he does if you try to talk to him in person, but you're socially awkward sometimes too so it doesn't bother you.

The truth is, he notices that you're more talkative over voice comms with him too. You're not afraid to ask him silly noob questions anymore, and he doesn't call you a noob now even if you do.

Levi realizes that there's something very intimate about having your voice in his ear when you're on comms together. It makes him feel things because this is something you only do with him and not with his brothers.

You're friendly with his brothers, sure - but you never sound this happy except when you're spending time with Levi. It's not even limited to gaming anymore - you get excited talking about the new anime series he invites you to watch with him, or the manga you ask to borrow.

When you mention you like to read, he lends you his copies of the TSL novels. If there's other books or movies you want, he buys them for you so you don't have to ask his brothers for anything.

He thinks that he's the only one to see your true, authentic self. He likes you now, and he doesn't want to share.

The first night you join him for a guild raid, Levi notices that you're not nearly as talkative with the larger group of players present. When you do speak, you're so quiet. He hasn't heard you sound this small since you first arrived in the Devildom.

When you're alone again after the guild raid ends, you thank him for inviting you and tell him how much fun it was. You sound more like yourself again, and even though Levi didn't expect you to be so shy around his friends - well, part of him likes keeping this version of you for himself.

He can't help feeling just a bit selfish. He likes the way you laugh openly at his jokes or the way you tease him (or yourself). When you're gaming together, you gasp loudly if something surprises you, or you groan if you do something silly that gets one of you (or both of you) killed. Normally those types of things would annoy him, but with you, it's fun.

Your relationship with Levi changes, and grows, and maybe you underestimate how much of an impact you've had on him. You don't mention when things between you start to shift towards something more than friends, and neither does he.

His brothers know there's something going on between you. You blow off their invitations if it interferes with plans you already have with Levi. They start to make subtle hints and jokes about Levi and you and dating, and Levi scoffs loudly and slams the door when he stalks off to his room.

You're not dating him, you're just friends. Sometimes he thinks about you in ways that aren't strictly platonic, but his denial still runs deep.

So what if Levi starts recording your conversations so he can listen to your voice when he has trouble sleeping? He doesn't feel bad because it's not hurting anyone.

When you play together late at night, your voice is softer, quieter and breathier. Maybe you're just trying to be considerate of everyone in the house trying to sleep, but the reason doesn't matter. It's like you're whispering in his ear and it sends his mind spiraling.

When he gets hard listening to the sound of your voice telling him how amazing he is, or how lucky you are that you met him, it doesn't mean anything.

It's a harmless little secret. You're his friend, his Henry.

You might not realize it, and he might not admit it, but you've lured him in - and he won't let you go.

#someone dropped this 🚩#obey me leviathan #obey me x reader #omswd x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #leviathan x reader #obey me levi x mc #leviathan x mc #obey me levi x you #leviathan x you #obey me yandere #yandere leviathan #obey me fanfic #omswd fanfic #x reader #gn!reader

662 notes · View notes

tobiasdrake · 7 months

Text

Okay, so I finally got around to watching Dragon Ball Super: Super Hero the other day, brought to you by the same people who came up with the name Super Saiyan God Super Saiyan.

Bulma's shameless, confident vanity continues to reinforce why she's the best character in Dragon Ball.

I need everyone to understand that this might actually be the funniest moment in the whole franchise. It's silly on its surface, but it's also steeped in Dragon Ball history. You can feel Piccolo dying inside, and there's a reason for that that goes much deeper than third-party embarrassment over Bulma's shallownness.

Bulma's cosmic butt-lift is a continuation of a gag from Broly (the good version). In that film, it was established that Bulma routinely uses the Dragon Balls to knock a few years off her age, for the sake of vanity. This was contrasted against Frieza's desire to use the Dragon Balls to add a couple inches to his height, for the sake of vanity.

Both of which are resurrections of the gag from the Red Ribbon Army arc, where Commander Red brought militant warlord violence to all corners of the world to claim the Dragon Balls for himself... so he could make himself taller. Using limitless cosmic power for petty and shallow reasons is a funny joke that Toriyama's fond of.

But this isn't just about the shallowness. It's about Piccolo. Or, more specifically, the other half of Piccolo that is Kami-sama. Dragon Ball is steeped in religious and mythological imagery, primarily Buddhist. A fantasy spin on it with a lot of fictional elements added, but there is a lot of genuine Japanese spirituality in there. Which is why God Almighty is now walking around as one half of Piccolo, with a substitute God ruling from his Temple in Heaven in his place.

During his reign, God gifted the Dragon Balls to mankind so that they would have a cosmic miracle they could turn to in times of great need. Shenron was meant as a great gesture of benevolence; The difficulty in summoning him is to serve as a particularly grueling trial, one that only the most determined and most worthy could fulfill.

However, that didn't exactly go to plan. Rather than a source of hope for the world, the Dragon Balls became objects of lust for its greediest and most corrupt. Near-limitless reality-shaping power to grant any miracle one could ask for, wasted on petty ambitions and selfish desires. God regretted ever making this cursed things.

When Piccolo killed Shenron and destroyed the Dragon Balls, God's response was basically, "Good riddance." The Dragon Balls were a mistake he could now take back. He had no intention of ever remaking them.

But then Goku defeated Piccolo. Goku ascended into Heaven to implore God to return the Dragon Balls to earth. Goku's pure innocence, his kindness, and his strength of character convinced God that there was good in the Dragon Balls. That they were worth remaking and returning to the mortal world below.

And now. Here he stands.

With this woman. The woman who utterly trivialized his great heavenly trial by inventing a handheld radar that beep-beeps all of the Dragon Balls' locations for you, allowing them to be easily collected in the span of a weekend excursion.

Watching her call upon his great reality-shaping miracle, so that she can get a butt-lift and slightly longer eyelashes.

While strongly insinuating that she does this every time the Dragon Balls regenerate. This is the legacy of his cosmic miracle.

Bulma is the greatest heretic in the history of fiction. That is why Piccolo is dying inside. This joke killed me. Almost as hard as Piccolo visibly wants to kill Bulma right now.

#dragon ball #dragon ball super super hero #bulma #piccolo

151 notes · View notes

lurkingshan · 9 months

Text

We Need to Talk about Love in Translation

I caught up on Love in Translation this week at @bengiyo’s behest, as he’s been talking about how good it is. It’s a Thai bl on iQIYI, and in this current deluge of shows, it’s flying mostly under the radar. But this week’s episode convinced me this is a show we should be prioritizing even with so much to keep up with, and I wanted to talk a little bit about why.

Ben already covered some of the basics about the show, and I agree with all of that, but what is really blowing me away is the confidence of the writing and the control the writers have on the pacing of this story. Because this show? Moves, and it moves fast. The relationships are evolving rapidly, and our leads are moving closer every week, and yet nothing ever feels rushed or unearned. They start out adversaries, but it’s all based on a misunderstanding, and once that gets cleared up and they get to know each other, they come to like each other rather quickly. The narrative gives us good reasons for their rapidly shifting perspectives, and crucially, this is a story that is fundamentally about kind people with emotional intelligence, so their openness to changing their minds about each other tracks.

So in episode four, we begin with a classic drama set up: Phumjai, our inexperienced but enthusiastic protagonist, is finally going on a date with his crush, Tammy, and he asks his new friend and business partner, Yang, to go on a practice date with him. Yang is, of course, already half in love with Phumjai and this set up is torture for him. And so the “fake” date commences, and of course the two of them have a fantastic time, forgetting Tammy exists for long stretches before Phumjai inevitably brings her up again and Yang’s face falls. Before the date ends, they end up lounging alone under a tree, Phumjai asks Yang about what kind of lover he would want, and Yang takes the opportunity to make his feelings clear.

Their almost kiss is interrupted, but here’s the important part: Phumjai is extremely aware of what almost just happened, and what it means. He knows Yang was about to kiss him, and he was going to let him. And he knows the implications of that, unlike the typical trope where a character like him would remain confused about Yang’s intentions or his own feelings. Phumjai is inexperienced, but he’s not ignorant. Still, he has committed to a date with Tammy, and so he goes. And the whole time he’s with her, he can feel that it’s not right. He’s not feeling the same things with her that he was with Yang, and his mind wanders back to Yang continuously throughout his time with Tammy. He is not doing the typical drama thing of sublimating or ignoring his feelings. He notices what is going on with his heart and what it means.

And here is where the show wows me again: Phumjai does something about it immediately. He ends his date with Tammy without kissing her despite a clear invitation to do so and runs straight to Yang to talk to him about what he’s feeling. He tells him with total honesty that he’s been thinking about him all day, and that he didn’t feel the way he thought he would with Tammy, and that he wants to understand what is going on between them. Yang listens to him patiently as he works it out, and once he’s given an opening, he doesn’t hesitate to lean in and finish the kiss he started earlier in the episode.

Let me just emphasize again: all of this happened in one episode. This show deftly covered the emotional groundwork and character development that most dramas would take several weeks if not half a season to unpack, and it all felt organic and authentic to who these characters are. I sat up and stared at my screen in awe several times throughout this episode because I was so delighted by what was happening and how confident the underlying writing was. We are now halfway through the show, and we have ample time to work through the fallout of Phumjai’s realizations and see him and Yang actually figure out being in a relationship together (my favorite thing in any romance drama). This is a new screenwriting team (it’s literally their first credit) and they certainly have my attention. I can’t wait to see what they have in store for the second half of this story.

#love in translation #thai bl #shan shouts into the void

188 notes · View notes

saylor-twift · 6 months

Note

alright, so first off. This is my first time doing a req to a creator/author/writer I admire so much so hopefully I won't cause any confusion— ">-< but could you uhh do a wanderer x reader unrequited love? (eg: wanderer prefers someone over reader) I really want more angst to read and also with this topic. You don't have to take this request if you're not comfortable!

(❄️. SHON)

Yes yes I can!! This is such a coincidence cause I just recently made a very similar request to one of my mutuals haha. Recently I’ve lowkey had this brain rot of Wanderer having feelings for the traveler (Lumine) because i’ve been reading so much Scaralumi lmfao and it lowkey makes me kinda salty even tho i love them to death so that’s kinda the direction this will take :) Thanks so much for asking!!

side note: I’m so fking angry i literally had this whole thing proofread and totally ready like an hour and a half ago when my tumblr fucking shuts down and deletes all my work and I had already deleted it off the google doc so I could paste the version from tumblr so i had to go restore the google doc and ughhh it caused me an extra hour of work cause i had to proofread everything again. anyways, please enjoy :)

Live is to Love, as Love is to Hurt

word count: 6801

also heads up for anyone who doesn’t know, I like to refer to Wanderer as Kunimitsu cause that’s the name I gave him :)

Everyone knows, or should know at least, that when one decides to accept something, anything, that they are also agreeing to take on each and every single thing that comes with it. To look forward to the rebirth of spring means also accepting that the barren, frosty breath of winter will indeed return, turning the once lush gardens of the world into sharp, jagged blades of grass and trees devoid of green. The same is true when you decide to accept somebody into your life. You must know that no matter how benevolent and perfect to you they may seem, fate has its mishaps, and doesn’t always play a fair game. And yet there’s one more thing, one might think after learning all these things that the way they will be better off is to never take risks. And supposedly yes, maybe you won’t get hurt, but you also won’t live. Because to live is to love, to live is to hurt, to live is to heal.

This current chapter of life feels strikingly similar to one of those slice of life novels you’d expect to find at the bookstore on the corner of the street. Only it wasn’t something you read whilst sipping tea on a sunday afternoon, it’s more like the type of heart-breaking piece of literature you finish late on friday nights, the kind that leaves you restless and contemplating the rest of the weekend. Or in this case, the rest of the month. And instead of seeing yourself in the life of the main character and mourning for them as if they were your own, the one who hurts is you, and it feels like nobody from the sidelines is mourning on your behalf. It’s almost ridiculous the amount of times you’ve mentally punched yourself for being this distraught, doesn’t everybody experience heartbreak at least once in their life? Maybe they do, but not everyone feels it this hard. Not everyone devotes every single inch of love in their hearts towards one singular person, only to have it blown out like the candles on a birthday cake, because the candles of the one you love burn for somebody who isn’t you.

And maybe if you were younger, if you were less understanding, if you had less control… you would be vengeful, heart full of nothing but envy for the lovely woman whose presence has his full attention. But you’re not, because you’ve grown. You’re older, you’re wiser, you understand. You understand the kind of pain such a mindset would inflict not only on the people around you, but also yourself. It’s truly hard to feel hate for that beautiful woman. She’s ever so kind, and strong, and beautiful and perfect and everything you’ve somehow convinced yourself that you’re not. She’s never wronged you, it’s not her fault. Truthfully, it’s not anyone’s fault. But that won’t change the fact that it hurts. In fact, it maims your very soul more than any pain you could have felt before. Most people would wonder why you even felt for him in the first place if they knew the history the two of you had. Yet the answer comes clear as day. To feel such comfort around him is something that rarely comes from other people. You know you can speak your mind on a bad day without scaring him off, and he knows, you hope he knows, that you’d put up with and listen to him as much as he needed as well. You love the way you always have to stifle a laugh whenever he makes an inappropriate comment, or how he’s unafraid to let you know when you’re wrong. How he always has to ponder the mysteries of the world at such a deep level, never taking things at face-value. And how he always hears you out from your perspective, never making you feel crazy or out of place for your seemingly otherworldly ideas.

Maybe it irked you at first, his insouciant and immature behavior, but it’s difficult to keep lying to yourself when really you knew deep down how endearing it felt, to have someone close enough to share such experiences with. And yet, through all of this, it seemed you had read him all wrong. This was the first time you had ever loved someone this deeply, let alone loved at all. People these days, especially young people, seem to lack the mental complexities you’d prefer in a partner. You wanted someone you could love and understand, not just some accessory at the hip to just brag and boast about. Even with all the times he’d berated you with insults and poked fun at your mishaps, he still possessed a sort of depth to his mentality, the kind that honestly made you fawn over the way you could hold meaningful conversations without feeling like you didn’t belong. If you recall correctly, he did mention once that he wasn’t a fan of small talk. Maybe that was just the way he was, or maybe it came as a result of his seemingly never ending history of trauma. (it made your heart clench just thinking about it, but you rarely brought it up. You knew all too well he wasn’t fond of the subject)

It only made sense he managed to snatch your heart right up into an unbreakable death grip. You were in love with him, for sure and certain. And it was likely that undying inferno, clouding your correct judgment in a cloud of smoke and ash, that led you to be here in this scene, the very moment that truly broke your heart, for the very first time.

You’d seen him with the girl a number of times, and to be fair, neither of them had ever confirmed any affection for the other, so perhaps you were just overthinking it all. Maybe to think such things would only be setting yourself up for disappointment, but for now, that could be left to the future. Maybe, if you were to get over your fears and doubts for just a moment, you would tell him. Maybe plan something for just the two of you, like they do in those cheap romance novels, and over a glass of zaytun peach lemonade, you look him in the eyes and say, “I love you.” And he would reply with, “Yes, so do I.” And the day would end however the author of said cheap romance novel sees fit.

And so you decide to do exactly that.

You find yourself sitting in immense regret as you wait outside the doors to the Akedemiya, anxiously picking at the cuticle of one of your nails as the unforgiving sun beats down on the back of your head. You’ll likely never fully get used to Sumeru’s weather. Typically at this time of the week, he attends the usual Vahumana lecture, begrudgingly of course. That was one of the things he was fond of complaining to you about, specifically the professor, whom he described as a “sulking old wench on the verge of death.” Maybe the description was a little much, but it elicited little giggles out of you nonetheless. And as the clock hits two in the afternoon, your anticipation only increases as you watch the door open and close, pairs of students leaving in intervals. You instantly perk up as you see his slender figure push its way out from the large wooden doors, making a beeline directly away from where everyone else was heading. Caught up in simply admiring him as he strolls away, lost in a daze, you suddenly snap out of your daydream as the realization hits you that he’s the reason you’re here. If he gets away, you’ll lose your chance.

With one last quick, deep breath of reassurance, you jog up to his side before he’s too far away, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Hey, hold on!” You call out, cheeks instantly redding as he cocks his head in your direction with a (thankfully) only mildly annoyed expression. Having a crush is so much more mortifying than you would have ever anticipated. “Hey-“

“What?” He interrupts, clearly already exasperated with whatever antics he thinks you intend to throw his way. “How was school?” You inquire, jogging up to his side again as he quickens his pace out of annoyance. “Don’t ask questions like that, I’m not your child.”

“Fine, my fault for wanting to know how you’re doing. I have a request for you.” You press on, not wanting to waste much time with his brashness. “I’m going to decline.” He insists. “No, you won’t. Well, maybe you will. But i’m politely requesting that you accept.”

“Well, you have to tell me what it even is first, no?”

You mentally roll your eyes. He always had to be like this, didn’t he? “I’m getting there. I was, um.. wondering if you were going to be busy this afternoon?” You question, cringing at the way the words failed to come out as smoothly as you had originally intended. He scoffs at this, followed by a laugh. “You’re hilarious. What do you actually want from me?”

“..what do you mean? I’m asking if you have any plans for the rest of today.”

“Why? Is Kusanali being overly dependent on her little errand boy again? I would’ve thought she would tell me herself, not send some messenger.”

This causes you to cringe. Despite the immense progress he’s made, he still can’t comprehend the fact that there are people who actually care for him and don’t see him as just some sort of a tool. “Oh come on, is that really the conclusion you’re going to jump to?” You ask with a hand on your hip. “What other reasons could you possibly have for seeking me out? Don’t tell me you actually want to spend time with me?” He quirks an eyebrow in amusement as he crosses his arms. He enjoys messing with you, he really does. “And what if I do?” You respond with an equally smug expression, seemingly forgetting about your previous nervousness and relishing in the fact that you can lightheartedly tease each other like this. “Then I’d tell you that you’re a fool. I don’t see any possible way you could benefit from being around me.”

“Why do you do this? Is it really so difficult to imagine that people enjoy being around you? Haven’t you spent enough time around me to know I’m not joking?”

He sighs, half in exasperation and half in defeat. “So you’re really saying you came all the way out here because you want to waste your afternoon on me? If I agree to whatever escapade you have planned, will you leave me alone then?” His voice is only slightly, but definitely noticeably softer than it was before. “I wouldn’t call it a waste. Please give yourself some credit.” You insist. “Fine, I’ll indulge you this once. But I better not hear any more of this.” He says, only mildly displeased. You smile madly to yourself, biting a lip as you fight to contain yourself, at least for the time required to form your next sentence. “Okay well, I’m not letting you back out now. Can we agree to meet somewhere then?”

“..if you insist.”

And not much longer after that, the two of you had agreed to meet a few hours later in the evening outside of the Grand Bazaar. Zubayr Theater had planned that day to host a small festival in honor of what Nilou liked to call it’s “grand reopening”. Following recent events, the matra of the Akedemiya had decided to lay back on some of their laws and views regarding the arts, meaning that the theater was free to perform as openly as it liked, with some rules, of course. Needless to say, Nilou was absolutely ecstatic. She’d choreographed a whole show solely for the sake of reopening, and the streets of Sumeru City were plastered with all of the posters and flyers. Not only were you more than happy to come and support your good friend and her passions, you were also quite fond of the arts and always enjoyed a good performance. Not to mention it made a decent first date spot for two aspiring lovers. (“Date” was a strong word, and you were fully aware of the fact that a date was not what this was. Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but daydream about such things.)

You’d graciously purchased a ticket for yourself as well as for him, much to his surprise. “And what if I hadn’t decided to show up? What would you do with your wasted money then?” He quirks as the two of you walk inside the theater, breathing in the scent of spices mixed with floral perfumes. “Well you’re here aren’t you? That means I don’t have to worry about that. But if for some crazy reason you did decide to ditch me, I’d just find some lucky unsuspecting stranger who’d appreciate a theater ticket much more.” You reply. “Of course you would. Always so generous.” He quips, not lacking his usual sarcasm. “Well what would you rather I do with it?” You question curiously. He scoffs. “That's not what I meant, your answer was fine. I’m just saying it’s so very like you.”

“Whatever, just come on. I think you might actually enjoy this, Nilou is very talented!” You chirp, skipping ahead to the doors of the auditorium, your enthusiasm showing right through. In truth, you had decided to bring him to a quiet place such as a theater as an excuse to not have to make too much conversation with him. The long performances would give you plenty of time to come up with what you were going to say once the time came. As guilty as it made you feel, you really only paid a fraction of attention to the lovely performance as your thoughts were lost elsewhere. It was finally beginning to dawn on you how anxious you really were, and a pool of regret starts forming in your chest as your mind conjures up all of the worst possible scenarios. He’s not exactly known for being the most compassionate person, so fear of rejection was only worse in this case. Would he ridicule you, or would he simply spit venom in your face like there’s no tomorrow? Either way, whether this night would turn out for the worse or for the better, you were too far in to turn back now. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

He didn’t seem to have much to say himself either, only making a snide remark as the curtains opened and remaining mostly silent for the rest of the performance. You’d almost say he was enamored with the dancers, watching them with a lovely sort of infatuation, almost as if he was also lost in his own little world. You find yourself continuously sneaking glances at him, whether to try and catch some sort of emotion on his face or simply just to look at him, you weren’t entirely sure. If he notices your constant little glances, he makes no comment. With a final flourish of sounds, music and lights that snaps you out of your anxiety-filled little daze, you zone back into the stage as the audience roars with applause and the curtains slowly come to a close. You breath in deep for your nose, realizing that you can no longer hide in the darkness and music of the theater. And for the first time since the beginning of the whole show, he speaks up. “You know, I might have doubted you a bit too much. It would be a lie to say that wasn’t a little enjoyable. You’re right, that girl does have some talent.”

Taking a minute to actually process that he was speaking to you, you blink a couple of times before turning to face him. “O-oh! See? I told you. Are you realizing now that you don’t always have to be so pessimistic?” He quirks an eyebrow at the way you appear to be so startled, but chooses to make no mention of it. “I hate to break it to you, but one night of little dance performances isn’t going to change my philosophy, no matter how much you want it to.” He chuckles as the two of you start to filter out with the rest of the crowd. “Maybe not tonight, but I bet one day I will.”

“Mhm. Good luck with that.”

By the time you exit the theater, the sun has almost completely gone down, only casting the city in the faintest remnants of orange and yellows. The ambience of the night can only be described as tranquil with the way it bathes the buildings in its warm purples and cooler blues. It fits him so well, you think. So well, you don’t even realize you’re staring. The moonlight illuminates the carefully sculpted features of his face, making him appear as if he were straight from one of the paintings of the masters. The artist clearly has a steady hand, with each brush stroke being carefully placed to exact precision, the colors fading into each other absolutely beautifully. It truly is a once in a lifetime experience to get the chance to lay eyes on somebody this breathtaking. You’re a sight for eyes, Kunimitsu. Are the words your brain decides to conjure up following this butterfly-inducing observation. But of course, such moments can only live so long as he decides to cut you off with a rather embarrassing reality check. “You’re staring. Something you want to say?”

The blush attacks your cheeks faster than you can even blink, eyes widening for but a moment. You’ve been caught red handed, nothing you can do about that. Instead of averting your gaze in shyness, you grasp tightly to that little sliver of confidence left from the beginning of this whole endeavor, using it as assistance for crafting your next words. “Hmm.. maybe there is.” The words fall out flawlessly, gaze never leaving his. And then there it is again, that familiar feeling of teeny tiny butterflies making themselves at home in the pit of your stomach with the way his eyes meet yours. “Then I think we should go find a place to sit. There’s… actually something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you as well.” He replies, with him being the one to break eye contact instead of you. If you strain your ears just hard enough, you swear he sounds uncharacteristically softer than usual, and you instantly wonder if he’s thinking the same thing you are. And with the way he immediately follows by tilting his hat down to cover his expression and quickens his pace, he has to be, you think. “Good. I wanted a drink, anyway.”

You imagine yourself being patted on the shoulder reassuringly, it’s truly now or never. You’re by yourself again, waiting in a surprisingly short line for lemonade. Disappointingly, the clearly under-staffed lemonade stand had quickly run out of many of the good flavors, including your favorite, zaytun peach. Deciding not to let it get you down, you settle on two glasses of plain lemonade, figuring that the Wanderer would prefer that kind anyway. You still hadn’t figured out what his deal was when it came to food. He didn’t seem like a picky eater, but he always grimaced anytime anyone made a comment regarding anything gooey and sweet. You hadn’t quite figured out if he hated all sweet things, or if it was just sweet things that also happened to be sticky… but no matter, if the citrus drink happened to not be to his liking, that was the least important concern on your mind at the moment. With annoyingly shaky hands and an increased heart rate, you take the two cool glasses of lemonade and make your way over to where your companion has already claimed a spot at a table, shaded and secluded away from the rest of the festival-goers.

You set the cups down, which he barely even acknowledges. Neither do you, practically forgetting about their entire existence the moment your legs hit the smooth wooden structure of the chair. He shifts in his seat, almost uncomfortably, you note, turning to face you. Much to your chagrin, he decides not to say anything, leaving the two of you in a dreadfully uncomfortable silence. “So-“

“You wanted to tell me something?” You interrupt. Truly you weren’t sure why, though it was most likely because you were trying to find some last minute way to further procrastinate your confession. He pauses for a moment, before inhaling sharply, followed by an unnecessarily long exhale. “I… suppose I do. I’ve given this quite a bit of thought, and I’ve decided that despite the way you annoy me and your persistent show of naivety, I still think you’d have a good outlook on my predicament.” Usually when he makes quips like this, you’d playfully roll your eyes, followed by a witty retort of your own. But it seems that at this point into the night, you’ve already spent up all your previously prepared confidence. Your hands are under the table, one finger working nonstop at picking a loose cuticle, already turning pink and uncomfortable and raw from the friction. “I’ll… try my best. What exactly is it?” Your voice comes out smaller than intended, and you wonder if he can sense your anticipation.

He makes an ‘ugh’ sound as his head drops forward, the bridge of his nose coming to land directly in between his pointer and thumb. “I just… I’m conflicted. I don’t…” This causes you to furrow your brows together at his odd display of vulnerability. It seems he’s at a loss for words, the first time you’ve ever witnessed such a thing. “About… what?” You query, clasping your hands together underneath the table. He squeezes his eyes shut and a forced exhale leaves his nose, and it’s the first time you think you’ve ever seen him willingly show that much emotion around you. “I’ve been… trying to come to terms with something as of late. And I’m just not understanding how all you mortals endure these kinds of things every day, it’s honestly appalling.” He lifts his head up from between his fingers, looking at you concernedly, as if he really was being honest about how he felt. “Okay, well first of all, I doubt that you actually feel things any less than the ordinary human, you just like to hide it. Second, what is it that’s bothering you even? You’re concerning me.” You comment. He scoffs. “The amount I feel is not the point. I am incredibly disturbed by this, and you are the only person I feel can advise me on what to do. You’re quite the expert on emotions, after all.”

You’re not quite sure whether he’s giving you a compliment or calling you emotional, but it didn’t matter. The fact that he’s even coming to you about something that clearly means so much to him hints at the fact that there might be some greater feeling lingering behind all of this. You’re about to open your mouth to ask once again what he means by all this, but he beats you to it, and you swear you see the apples of his cheeks turn a dusty rose color. “I keep having this reoccurring thought, about a person… that I may hold some sort of fondness for..”

Your breath hitches. This whole time your well-thought out (more like impulsive, but you digress) plan was to get him alone so that you would have to work up the courage on your own to confess to him. But now, was he going to do it for you? Would you be getting the happy ending you’d daydreamed about for so long? You zone out for the better part of his speech, attention only coming back for the last few words.

“…your friend, actually. You know, the one with the (color) hair? Surely you’ve noticed? That’s why I’m telling you, you’re the only one I feel even remotely comfortable with giving this information.”

What.

With those words, you swear you could literally feel your face turn white . Could you perhaps have misheard? Is he alluding to something else? It’s almost like you’re in denial. The only physical reaction this confession seems to get out of you is a blank stare, while your mind on the other hand is practically on a wild rampage. The man you love more than anything, more than life, more than the sun, more than yourself, sitting in front of you, telling you directly to your face that his heart belongs to somebody whose name is not yours. Whose whole persona you wish so dearly could be your own. And the audacity to ask for advice on what to do was really just the cherry on top. You feel absolutely mortified, like there’s a sizzling flame, a light in your stomach making you feel like you’d vomit the entirety of your organs at any given moment. He couldn’t possibly be lying either, with the way his whole demeanor seems to change to a completely different person when he speaks about her. He seems so oddly vulnerable telling you about how he feels. At the very least, he trusts you more than most to be so willingly sharing his thoughts with you. That’s something, at least.

After a short moment too long of silence, you blink away your surprise, putting on a soft expression that reads ‘congratulations, I’m so happy for you’ despite the ache forming in your heart. “Ah, is that so? You know, I think it’s great you’re allowing yourself this. She’s a beautiful girl, I’m sure she loves you just as much.” Gods, that hurt more than anything else you’ve ever had to say before. He pauses for a moment before speaking again, and you fear it’s because he’s noticed your trepidation. “You’re very perceptive for a mortal, you know. That much I’ve picked up on, if not anything else. So is that really what you think then? That she could really harbor any sort of affection for me, despite what I’ve done?” And if that doesn’t hurt even more. The first reason being that he clearly loves this girl even deeper than you’d originally thought, the second being that he still believes himself to be so inherently undesirable that he has to ask you for confirmation that another could love him back. And of course he’s lovable, he’s literally taken your very soul and intertwined it with his own.

“Kunimitsu, how could she not? Do you really not see anything in yourself of any value? Of course you’re loved. Despite what you think of yourself, and what you think others should think, you are meant to be cared for just as you are. I- she can see the way you’ve changed, and your efforts to heal and become better. If someone like you cares for her, there isn’t any possible way you aren’t dear to her as well.” The reason these words come out so easily can only be explained by the feelings you harbor so deeply for him. Maybe it sounds too much like a confession of your own, and despite trying to make yourself believe you say it for his own good, you know deep down it’s really because you want to relieve some of that ache for yourself. He looks at you in a relieved sort of way, almost endearing, yet still not fully believing. “Do I really deserve this..?” His eyes are by far the softest you’ve ever seen as he practically begs you to confirm it for him again. And damn it if you didn’t love him so much, if you weren’t so eager to please him. “You do. You really, truly do.” If only he knew how good you’d treat him if you were the one he longed for. If only he knew how hot your flame burned for him, if only he knew the way you longed to hold, caress, and simply just love him. And so you decide you can bear to look at him no longer, lest you break down in tears. “It’s getting a bit late, I think. I hope you think about what I told you. Good night, Kuni.”

You stand up, not really caring anymore if you seemed to end the night too abruptly. Maybe it was selfish to leave just like that, and maybe he could tell you were upset, but none of that mattered. Right now, you really wanted to just put yourself first for once. Nearly the instant you consider yourself far enough away from him or anyone else, you begin to break down. You roughly cover your mouth with the palm of your hand to cover the sound of a pathetic little sob that escapes your vocal chords. A shaky inhale follows as large droplets of salty tears quickly make their way down your cheeks from the corners of your eyes. Your other arm wraps around your midsection at a subconscious attempt at self comfort. You collapse against the slide of a building, sliding down the wall until you’re fully seated on the ground, allowing your emotions to fully take a hold of you. For what feels almost never ending, you cry and cry and cry until you don’t have it in you to produce anything more. You take another shaky breath, whether to calm yourself down or to replace all the oxygen lost, you’re not sure. It doesn’t really help either way.

After several more minutes of just sitting there, hugging your knees to your chest and looking up absentmindedly at the night sky, quite literally contemplating everything about your life, you’re snapped out of your thoughts by the sounds of soft footsteps coming down the cobblestone road. You panic, desperately not wanting anyone to see you in such a state. Upon further inspection, the sounds of the approaching person become clearer. It sounds as if the owner isn’t wearing any shoes. Instead, there’s also the faintest sound of jingling bells. Turning your head slightly to the side, you catch a glimpse of exactly who seems to be approaching, and you sigh in relief. You actually wouldn’t mind a little company from this person, if they even notice you hiding in the depths of your despair. The little dendro archon strolls casually down the street, seeming to be thinking of nothing but how tranquil the ambience is. Part of you wants to step out from your hiding place and greet her, the other urging you to curl away even further. Neither of the thoughts win, resulting in you staying exactly where you are.

The white-haired little sprout hums an old Sumeruen tune as she bounces on the balls of her feet, not a care in the world. Your heart warms a little at the sight. Just as the thought finishes passing through your love-sick mind, she cocks her head to the side, noticing your presence. With a little pleased gasp, she bounces right over to you. “(Name), I’ve been looking all over for you! Why are you sitting all alone?”

You give her a smile, only half attempting to conceal your distress. You don’t really want her to question you about your misfortune, yet at the same time, it would feel really nice to tell somebody you trusted as much as her about it. “Hi, Nahida. I’m just taking a breather, I guess. It’s really nice out tonight, isn’t it?” Your voice is soft and smooth, as it usually is when making conversation with her. “It is indeed! I was just out taking a walk myself. My intention was actually to find you, I was wondering if you had made it to the festival. It seems I ended up getting a bit distracted… so I’d say it’s actually quite lucky I managed to run into you here. Silly me!” She sits down next to you, bells rustling against each other. Her short legs stick out straight and she rests her hands atop her lap. “You were looking for me? What for exactly?” You curiously ask, resting your cheek on the palm of your hand while your head turns to look at her. Your eyelashes are still clustered together in little points as a result of the river of tears just a few minutes prior.

She taps a finger against her chin, a typical habit of hers reserved for thinking. “To be honest… I don’t think I really had a reason. I was just seeking your company! Ever since I met you and the traveler, I’ve found that I quite enjoy spending time with my friends.” This elicits a giggle from you. She didn’t even intend for it to be a compliment, her comment was pure honesty. But nevertheless it succeeded in making you feel a little better to know that you were on her mind, even if she had no idea what you were feeling at the moment. “Well I’m glad you found me then. Did you go to the festival today?”

“No, I didn’t get the chance to. But…” She trails off, giving you a puzzled yet concerned expression.

“Is there something on your mind? I know I’m not an expert yet on human emotions, but I feel as if you are acting differently than you normally do.”

She sits patiently, waiting for a response. True, she had a bit of a hard time contemplating the more complex emotions of humans, but she was still one of the most empathetic people you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.

You sigh, might as well tell her the truth. “Nahida, I… you’re right. I am thinking about something. I just don’t know exactly how to tell you..” Your gaze falls down, suddenly you become more interested in picking at your cuticles than the inquisitive girl beside you. She hums in understanding. “I see...” She sits in silence, words failing to find her. They don’t seem to come to you either.

“..shall I read your mind? Not to intrude, but do you think it would help? Would you like me to know what’s wrong?” She pressed, almost carefully. After a bit of trial and error, the young archon had learned that most people don’t appreciate being bluntly asked for their feelings. So, she’d learned to take things with a bit more heed. Any other day, you probably would have laughed, telling her not to worry herself over you. But, thanks to none other than Nahida herself, you’d begun to slowly become a bit more open with how you felt. She’d advised, after reading some self-help book on managing emotions, that you start telling people when you felt something that made you hurt. And as honestly awkward as it was, it was helping. In lieu of a response, you nod your head in answer to her question with a small ‘mhm’ sound, the words once again failing to come to you.

She nods her head as well, giving your shoulder a gentle pat before ever so softly taking your hand in both of hers, treating it as if it were a fragile glass ornament. She gives it a soft kiss before grasping it more firmly, shutting her eyelids before beginning the process of entering your consciousness. Without even trying, you replay the events of earlier that afternoon in your mind, cringing the whole way through. It brought a tough sort of ache into your chest, sort of like bread dough with too much flour. After only a few more seconds of replaying painful scenes and holding your breath without even realizing, she opens her eyes, but chooses not to release your hand just yet. When her expression meets yours, it can only be described as sorrowfully compassionate.

“Oh…” Is the only sound that escapes her lips. You smile sadly and attempt to laugh in order to lighten the mood, regretting it instantly the second the noise emitted from your throat turns into a sob. You cover your mouth with your hand as the tears return yet again. Nahida stands on her knees to better reach you, wrapping her small arms around your shoulders, patting your back comfortingly. “I am so, so, so sorry (Name). If only I had known… he hadn’t even told me about his feelings for her.” She coos. Speaking through your tears, you make an attempt to defend her position. “It’s not- It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.” You let your head hang low with no more energy left to hold it high.

“You know that I’ve never experienced such heartbreak personally, but I can imagine it hurts just as much as you say. Please don’t start to think anything less of yourself because of this, you are still perfect.” She lifts herself from the embrace, holding your head in both of her hands. You look up at her with tear stained cheeks that glisten in the moonlight, giving a watery laugh. “Nahida, you are so nice to me. You think you don’t understand emotions, but you still care about mine more than a lot of people I’ve met.”

“It’s my duty as the Archon of Sumeru, isn’t it? I must attend to all the needs of my people. Political, physical, and I also believe emotional. And as one of my newfound friends, I need to take care of you too.” She smiles, resembling that of a proud child after their mother congratulated them on a well-earned school grade. It makes you smile too. “I guess it is then. Thank you, Nahida. You are really a good friend.”

“And so are you! Now, I want you to promise me something, okay? Go to bed tonight as soon as you can, get lots of good rest. And tomorrow make sure to eat a healthy breakfast and get lots of sunshine. Sunshine is proven to lift moods significantly! Can you do that for me?” She counsels, this time resembling that of a mother caring for her ill child. You nod in agreement. “Sure. I’ll try my best.” You know full well agreeing to her worried demands was only to make her happy. Truthfully, you’re not sure for how long this heartbreak will plague your mind. It’s not everyday the love of your life blatantly states to your face that they love somebody who isn’t you. Some people would get angry when faced with a situation like this. Angry at the boy, angry at the other. Angry at themselves, even. But as of right now, you can’t find it in you to be angry. The feeling lingering behind from the shipwreck only seems to be a deep sort of pain, the kind that hollows out your chest and resides deep in the darkest of corners, it’s shadows seeping out to infest every single inch of you. Despite the sunshine peeking in, maybe from the kind words of a friend such as Nahida, the shadows don’t seem all that repulsed by it. When you were younger, you once told yourself you weren’t interested in the idea of falling in love. After reading so many books, nothing about the topic ever appealed to you. But as most people know, lives hardly go as they are planned, hardly follow along with the intentions. You hadn’t meant to fall in love with him, you hadn’t even tried. And maybe that’s what made it hurt so bad, because it seemed the universe had surprised you with a gift so lovely. You accepted, because who wouldn’t turn down such a generous item? Only to find out the universe had made a mistake, that lovely present tied with a satin bow was not in fact made for you, but rather instead for the lovely person next door with sparkling eyes like diamonds and a heart of gold.

Right now, your eyes feel much too clouded to even have a chance at sparkling, and your heart too heavy to be made of anything but black, crumbling coal. Maybe you’ll get over him, or maybe you won’t. Maybe this will be the kind of first love that stays by your side the rest of your life, the kind you tell stories to your grandchildren about when they ask you if you’ve ever been in love. Or maybe the fates will have a change of heart and decide to grant you the wish you’ve been so desperately clinging on to. Either way, you love him. And there will always be a part of you that hopes, maybe, he’ll love you too.

#genshin impact #wanderer #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #DID YOU SEE WHAT I DID WITH THE LEMONADE #IM SO PROUD #i’m gonna go back and proofread this again cause i think i missed some stuff :(

90 notes · View notes

preludicrous · 5 months

Text

why i believe the prison break storyline was also sigma's entrance exam

the long overdue post that i teased literal months before posting it (sorry i am a college student and quite overworked)

[ massive spoilers for the mersault arc of bsd, including s5e11 of the anime and recent manga chapters. ]

sigma is alive

first of all: sigma's not dead.

sigma's not dead because his character arc is nowhere near over, and from a writing perspective, it doesn't make sense to kill him without drawing that out to some kind of conclusion.

for someone who had a pretty major role in recent arcs, whose entire characterization in the story has been set up around a deep need for belonging and a "home" and people who don't want to "use" him, the plotline so far sure hasn't wrapped up his story in any satisfying way. as far as it appears right now, he just kind of... touched fyodor and died. is that really it for him?

especially after he finally starts to reject fyodor's manipulation, and finally makes choices for himself, like the choice to side with dazai?

no, i'm not convinced he's dead- bsd's very guilty of fake out deaths, and there is no reason for me to believe that sigma's actually dead when his arc is still clearly unfinished.

sigma joining the ADA makes sense

in the mersault arc, it is established that sigma wants to join the ADA. fyodor even says it point blank to him, and he doesn't deny it. he thinks about the ADA and how they're "not using dazai, and dazai isn't using them". they are a group of people who care about each other and take care of each other of their own agency, no pun intended.

as i mentioned above, sigma's entire character so far has been revolving around belonging and how he wishes to find a home. a home suited for a bizarre gifted like him with no past, who doesn't understand why he exists. in many respects, a lot of the agency members share similarities to sigma in the sense that they also didn't understand their place in the world.

atsushi's an orphan who was told he should just "die in a ditch somewhere".

dazai's an empty man who sees no purpose in existence.

ranpo was a genius surrounded by monsters, and he could never comprehend why the world was so illogical and strange.

the character whose backstory is the most similar to sigma is yosano. like sigma, she had a powerful gift. like sigma, she was used for that gift. mori took advantage of her healing to create an undead army against her will. the difference is that yosano despaired, while sigma is resentful - yosano isolated herself since there was no way for her to live without being used for her gift, while sigma is bitter regarding the unfair nature of the world that he is continually used.

in the end, yosano is found by the agency and ranpo. ranpo says this:

the ADA is a place where ability users are valued for their personhood, not their ability. for sigma and yosano, who have only ever been valued by others for their powerful abilities, the ADA is the only place they belong, the one place they can live freely as full people rather than just vessels for their abilities.

sigma wants to join. it's the perfect culmination of his arc. he'll finally have a home, a place to belong. in his first decision he makes of his own free will, he chooses to help the ADA. plus, his ability is information exchange, which couldn't be more perfect for detective work.

it ties up all the loose ends neatly.

sigma's entrance exam

so, if the title didn't make it clear, yeah. i'm pretty convinced that sigma's entrance exam was the mersault prison break. i mean, he clearly wants to join the agency, and dazai's compared him to like half of the members already.

the armed detective agency fandom wiki has some information on entrance exams. (i know, i know, not a primary source, but I don't have that much free time to go source hunting for a tumblr bsd theory...)

we also have a few example of entrance exams that we can use as a reference: namely atsushi's, kyouka's, and dazai's. from these, we can synthesize a few defining characteristics of entrance exams.

(i made a table because i'm a pretty visual person, and this is a good way for me to organize information!!! this is essentially an adapted affinity map for my fellow nerds out there)

some key elements of entrance exams administered by the ADA include:

a perceived (real or fake) threat: in atsushi's case, this was the "bomber"; in kyouka's case, the moby dick; in dazai's case, whoever was responsible for the disappearance and subsequent murder of the yokohama visitors.

the threat's victims involve civilians/innocent people: for atsushi, the terrorist had naomi as a hostage; in kyouka's case, the entirety of yokohama was in danger; in dazai's case, the kidnapping/murder victims were all civilians.

the ADA candidate MUST (is pushed/forced/pressured/required to) play a major role in the resolution of the threat: atsushi must neutralize the bomber; kyouka is the only one who can stop the moby dick; dazai plays a very large role in stopping the azure messenger.

(optional) sacrifice: atsushi jumped on a bomb; kyouka crashed her plane.

(optional) a way to ensure the candidate's safety: for atsushi, the fact that it wasn't a real bomb; for kyouka, fukuzawa's ability and demon snow.

the ADA candidate is kept in the dark: atsushi was NOT told they were completing an entrance exam, or that the ADA even had such a tradition. kyouka knew she was doing an entrance exam, but wasn't ever fully explained the stakes; i.e. nobody told her that after passing she would be able to free herself and control demon snow.

the entrance exam is administered by a more senior member: dazai or kunikida, with the approval of fukuzawa.

now consider if dazai were administering an entrance exam for sigma during the mersault prison break. let's see if the key elements are present:

the threat: fyodor

the victims: the entire world

the candidate's pivotal role: sigma must touch fyodor to learn fyodor's ability

the sacrifice: sigma risks his life and touches fyodor, despite having been told that fyodor's ability might also work through touch, i.e. he risks dying

the failsafe: n/a, as far as we know currently (i can see an argument for chuuya but i personally find that's a bit of a stretch)

the secret: sigma has not been told that this is an entrance exam (neither has the audience)

the examinator: dazai

pretty neat. at least, no inconsistencies - and, considering the bigger picture, it makes sense.

a lot of things in the mersault arc also make sense under this interpretation. why did dazai pick sigma instead of a more "useful" escape tool? for recruitment. why did dazai promise and insist upon saving sigma? for recruitment. why did dazai shove sigma off the elevator even though he knew chuuya would break their fall and they weren't going to die? for recruitment.

it feels like a much better ending for sigma than just being... dead.

screenshot compilation

conclusion

you're so right.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd sigma #bsd #bsd theory #bungou stray dogs analysis #bungou stray dogs sigma #bsd spoilers #bsd season 5

74 notes · View notes

mean-scarlet-deceiver · 4 months

Note

Daisy & Mavis?

Or maybe Sir Handel & Peter Sam?

Ooooh, Sir Handel and Peter Sam have a fascinating dynamic. However, I don't really have much to say that others haven't already said, and probably said better. To the degree that I'm tempted to talk about their Trauma Responses, I have another ask about Sir Handel & Skarloey, so I think I'll fold these thoughts into that post.

So, Daisy and Mavis — love 'em — only wish they got more screen time!

("Screen" time. Do they ever have a significant interaction in the television series? I really want to be told if they do.)

Actually they only have one page in RWS where they exchange a word. But it's such a good page. Posting it here for the uninitiated:

Look at this mess. Look at this absolutely perfect bitchfest. There are a total of zero brain cells in this conversation. Venting to your work bestie and and letting loose your inner mean girl. A classic RWS dynamic! It's just the diesel (& the female) version of the Thomas and Percy relationship: They make each other worse.

But, they need each other.

But, they make each other worse...!

Despite their lack of screentime following this, you cannot convince me that these two don't remain peas in a pod, just like 1 and 6 after 6 is transferred to the branch line.

I do think it's rather sad that Mavis is holed up in the quarry. :( There's a real bummer of a line when she appears in a later Christopher story...

"Besides, she sometimes finds it dull up at the Quarry with no one to talk to but trucks." I know it's realistic, but I want better for her. LET 👏 HER 👏 OUT 👏

Once smartphones became a thing, I like to imagine that they videocalled from the quarry to the carriage shed every night. (Annie, Clarabel, and Henrietta are very understanding about this when the call lasts half an hour. If ever the workers try to indulge Daisy and Mavis with a longer call, however, the coaches start murmuring...)

One great thing about this convo is that it's the first time I feel like I'm really, genuinely looking at lasting steam/diesel coexistence on Sodor's 'big railway.' Coz this is a target Awdry has been trying to hit for at least a dozen books now, yeah? Due mostly to his publishers' pressures, he's been trying to have beloved diesel characters while keeping his 1920-cosplay steam railway too, and this is where I think he finally hits the target. Daisy's first appearance was hamstrung because the turning point where she changes her haughty new-engine attitude and where the others accept her despite all the shit she's already pulled is off-screen, we're just told "they're friends now" and have to be all "right. sure." Probably because he got negative feedback on his Daisy hash, Awdry played it suuuuper safe with BoCo and Bear — less so Bear, but that's another post; for now I will just say that in contrast to Daisy they are presented as very clean-as-a-whistle, and their acceptance by the railway is made so much of that it doesn't feel natural, they both feel like one-offs. But then, ahhh. Now we've got Mavis, and Awdry has the bright idea to let her talk to Daisy, and BANG. Now we're here. This doesn't feel Informed, or starch-and-stiff, or tokenistic. You read this and you're like oh, yeah. Even the sleepiest branch line on this railway is now part dieselised. They're acting like characters! Everybody is acting like squabbling coworkers! It's like sinking at last into a warm relaxing soak. Ahhhhh. Here's the good stuff.

Because they don't need to be Representatives of dieselkind? They can just kinda suck for a moment, without being villains? When TVS subs out Daisy for Diesel, it automatically gives this conversation a sinister air. He's the devil on Mavis's shoulder. But in the original, there's nothing sinister here; it's homey. They're just venting to each other. Their behavior is kinda crappy, but also very normal and recognisable. New work besties fr. They are both three drinks in.

Daisy: He said what to you? Omg babe. I cannot believe that old garden shed said that to youuu.

Mavis: Right?????

Daisy: raising a glass Anything steam engines do, we diesels can do BETTER!

Mavis: hauling herself a bit unsteadily to her feet so that her gesticulation can be its most dramatic and sweeping You are RIGHT and you should SAY IT!

(Narrator: mildly ... Daisy was not right and, being probably the most specialised and least versatile engine then on her railway, she definitely should not have been saying it.)

(Above: The quintessential moment. Mavis & Daisy are commiserating/carping, and Annie & Clarabel are trying so hard to not hear their shit.)

Now, I've always had a question here...

Did Toby really say that only steam engines can shunt trucks?

The text indicates only that he was annoyed that she kept re-arranging things, they had a tiff, she rejected his input and left.

Then again, the text doesn't reveal that Percy calls Mavis's shunting "a ---- ------ ------ mess!", so, y'know. We get the minimum detail necessary in these stories. ;)

We never see Toby express any such sentiment about diesel engines. I'm inclined to think he never said this — and I suspect we're not supposed to believe he said this, only that Mavis is in stroppy teen mode and exaggerating and embellishing her grievances to the point where she's straight-up making shit up.

Still, I'm not sure. Usually in the RWS if a character is lying they are slyly or explicitly called out for it in the nearby text and this time the claim is just... sitting here.

Ultimately, I don't think he ever said that to her, but (considering how salty everyone on the Ffarquhar line can get: some have quicker fuses than others but they're all so provoke-able) I don't think Mavis just made this up completely. If she were making up stories from whole cloth, that would be... well, that would be 'Devious' Diesel behavior! I suspect, however, that Toby and Percy (comparing notes on her shunting) are at least thinking it, or have said it to each other, and Mavis has picked up on these vibes. All of which would be incredibly realistic.

Anyway, I bring this up because the answer does color my read of this conversation a little. If Mavis is completely making up attitudes that Toby never dreamed of having, and Daisy just eats it up and eggs her on, that makes this conversation somehow even 10x messier (and somehow I'm still rooting for their friendship). If this is a sentiment that is real or implied when Mavis or Daisy annoy the other Ffarquhar engines (and they can both be annoying, no question) then the bond between these two characters, with their very different personalities, just becomes even more 'understandable.'

Anyway, about those differences. Mainly, Daisy is ultimately very conventional. (This reminds me I have a nearly-finished essay about Daisy lying around somewhere. For now...) Mavis is the original, creative one, the mover-and-shaker. All Daisy's initial behaviors, as Hazel observed recently, are things we've seen from proud new engines before! She wants lots of attention, she boasts, she tries her damnedest to get out of work that she thinks is beneath her. What Mavis wants is to improve things, to have more responsibility, to get to stretch her wheels. Furthermore, Daisy by nature is keen to avoid work that's too heavy (she's a railcar with limited pulling power, so, you know, understandable); Mavis doesn't mind work — she just doesn't like being told how to do it, and she doesn't like being bored!

A point where they can be contrasted is in how they accept Toby's help and friendship at the end of their initial... "arcs." (All right, Daisy's "arc" is ended so clumsily that you can barely call it that, but you get me.) I'm not saying Mavis is devious or calculating, but for her Toby's offer of friendship is just as important as a pathway to her getting out of the quarry sometimes as it is for his forgiveness. It is her ticket out. For Daisy, Toby's offer of friendship was important because she wants friends, now she's making a friend yay!! — and I think that was pretty much it. Daisy just wants positive attention; that's what all her 'modern and right-up-to-date' stuff was about, but that failed to get her the positive attention she wanted and it turned out that being a team player did, so she had little trouble re-orienting herself. She resisted the pressure of everyone on the platform for her first train because she clung to the memory of her friend the fitter, but I don't think she's one to resist peer pressure in general, and as time passed and the Ffarquhar line residents became her peers, it was completely inevitable that she start to conform to their ways.

So (although, again, annoyingly — we aren't shown) I reckon that Daisy panicked after Percy's accident when she realized that she would be in trouble too (all right, someone probably had to point it out to her). And so for the first time she pitches in and does some hard work. Toby can't help but own "you did well to get all your half cleared, Daisy" and Daisy's entire system lights up because compliment, baby!!! That's all she ever wanted. She's Toby's man now (so to speak).

I can also easily imagine that, in trying to get adjusted to Mavis, Toby remembered how thing went last time. He must have tried from the first to tell himself, through slightly gritted teeth, "Just find something to compliment the new engine on, just anything. Helps build trust." But he was stymied twice over. 1) She keeps re-arranging the trucks in some crazy-ass unapproved way and he can't find ANYTHING nice to say! 2) It wouldn't have worked, anyway. Mavis wouldn't have been satisfied with just some friendly attention. Mavis wants to do. shit.

Mavis is bright — possibly has little common sense, but she's bright. I do wonder sometimes if her shunting arrangements are actually bad, or if they're just different and Toby and Percy can't adjust. (The text does own that due to the siding arrangements it's inefficient to put the trucks where Toby expects them. She probably does optimize things — from her point of view, anyhow.) Either way, though, here is an active and creative mind at work. Plus, her ploy to slo-o-owly expand her pathway down the line in "Toby's Tightrope" shows long-term planning, which is hardly something we've ever seen any vehicle do! So yeah, she's well above-average bright for an engine.

Hilariously, in Their Own Scene she is easily impressed by Daisy's lofty confidence (another classic RWS dynamic — it's giving Duncan staring amazed at James's boasting), but she's also super young, hasn't been Toby-fied yet, and in short I expect that as the years go by Mavis is likely to see Daisy as less of a role model and more of a crony/partner-in-crime. Daisy might instigate things sometimes — but she needs Mavis and Mavis's bright ideas before she really makes much headway! And I expect Mavis is often the instigator anyway. In her literary-device role of Second Coming of Thomas (Dieselised Flavour), she probably continues to want all sorts of things that engines aren't supposed to pine for (silly stick-in-the-muds!) Daisy is quite content to grumble but put up. Mavis will find a way to make stuff happen.

(Which is the only explanation we're going to get for how Mavis is at large on every quarry and some not-remotely-a-quarry sets on the island, come TVS!)

That was a light rap on the TVS there, but not a very hard knock; at least TVS insisted (in spite of all logic) on using her character for stuff. Christopher lets me down, personally, by finding so little for Mavis to do — and never having her and Daisy interact! I want more of this shit so badly.

However, in the Author's Note of Thomas Comes Home, Daisy apparently has a bee in her bonnet about fans who think the series has no female engines and is like 'me and Mavis tho!!!!!!' Which... I like seeing Daisy mention Mavis. That's all. It assures me that they’re still a duo (although I prefer Wilbert's interpretation that they bond over being The Two Diesels On This Line vs. Christopher's implication that their bond is being The Two Girls On This Line).