#while i generally agree with what we finally have revealed in 'forget me not'
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OnS Chapter 130
Aaaaaaaah!!!! The lore thickens!
I am just dreading to make this since tumblr's post editor updated to being a pain the ass to use lol. I can't just not blog about reading OnS chapters cause it's the only way I can "re-read" them when they become unavailable. Why have the scanlators stopped working on this, I'd never know but I'm sad they don't seem to be around anymore for this manga (I mean I'd still read stuff on mangaplus but if I want to backread at least I'd have a way...).
While Yuu-chan and Mika are having a chat and probably some potential existensial crisis, Rigr seem to be checking out the 1st Progenitor's memories.
Would you look at that? He got there at the exact point in the memory world that Yuu-chan and Mika last watched! How convenient lol.
Rigr now knows about Shika Madu's past.
The reincarnated angels don't remember their past lives but it seems Shika Madu is okay with them living unaware of it. After all, tragic backstories and all.
Rigr now knowing the truth, it seems he now cares about the 1st Progenitor. Shika Madu might be an asshole but he still cares about his angel subjects even after all this time. He knows it would be difficult and he might not be able to succeed but he's not going to give up hope.
It makes me wonder more what his plan is in the present since he seems to be fucking over those he says he cares about.
Anyways, Rigr ends up crying even if he doesn't have his past life memories which made him wonder if those memories still lie within him somewhere.
I'm not gonna lie, I have no idea what to call him now that it's revealed he's the real Mika. Anyways, he was finally noticed by Shika Madu which is bad cause he has a plan.
Angel Mika is alive now and he needs to make his father think he's still dead so he asks homonculus!Yuu to take his place. He'd even forget his real identity to make things more convincing.
"No matter how many eons it takes... no matter how many generations we go through... in the end, we'll save everybody!" declared human Yuu whose actually the real angel Mika (this is gonna be confusing lol. I'm calling him Past!Yuu). It didn't matter how long it took and what the circumstances have become, Yuu-chan has always wanted to save everyone no matter when and it's always been his goal.
(I wish I could take the screenshot of when he said this but it's hard to crop with the length)
Homonculus!Yuu seems hesitant at first but he happily agreed with Past!Yuu's plan and he's now the new Mika.
New!Mika (yes, I'm not calling him that) is given his first task for his newest role. I'm guessing the "seven lights" are the black keys? Maybe? Anyways, he basically made it so that his father would do a bunch of detours before getting to his goal lol.
Past!Yuu erased (although more like locked away) his memories of being Angel Mika. He promises New!Mika that no matter what, he'd come back and collect him and New!Mika happily promises back.
Beams of light shoot out from New!Mika and Shika Madu catches one of them. On his hand he finds one of the black keys (I was right earlier! lol). He thinks homonculus!Yuu might've done something but basically thinks "Nah, I made him and he can't think for himself." so he turns his attention to Past!Yuu.
Past!Yuu acts like he knows nothing (either he's acting or the memory lock worked too well) and Shika Madu doesn't buy it and checks his memories which kills Past!Yuu in the process. Shika Madu confirms that Past!Yuu totally knows noting (lol if only you knew).
Shika Madu laments the fragility of the humans he created as he estimated that they might not even live to be a hundred.
Shika Madu doesn't realize that close by, Past!Yuu aka the real Angel Mika had been reborn again.
Aww!! A proper reunion between Mika and Yuu! Yuu-chan had fullfilled his promise! They still don't actually have their past life memories but they're okay with it as they think it'd have been bad if they actually did all this time. After all, it took this long to get this far in their plans and they went through so much that if they remembered everything, it'd have made them suffer more and give up.
They're reminded of the vampires who hated being immortal cause it caused them suffering.
These two are now having a discussion on the meaning of (their) life. They wonder why they should keep going and why Yuu-chan should make Mika human again. Mika answers that he wants to live and die with Yuu-chan (aww... that's so sweet!). Yuu-chan asks if that'd really make Mika happy and Mika says he thinks so.
Mika is slowly but surely turning into a full demon and Yuu-chan says he won't let it happen. Yuu-chan concludes that they don't clearly remember their past lives and they'd continue living this life and would try to reach their present lives goal: save everyone (especially the dead Hyakuya orphans and Guren and their friends) and turn Mika back to human.
Hope restored! Yuu-chan likens their current situation to a video game and thinks that they have a chance now that they know the lore. Mika agrees!
Their current goal? Get the seven keys!
Oh!! Flashback to eight years ago!
Ferid is wondering why the First Progenitor wants to make a "Mikaela" and what even is a "Mikaela" in the first place. He says he wasn't compatible to become this Mikaela and the First Progenitor himself cannot be whatever it was.
He also got his hands on little Yuu-chan and Mika (they were drugged and were sound asleep) to check their memories. Someone else is there with Ferid however...
Ferid asked Guren if Guren had checked the kids' memories and he hasn't yet.
Oh... what does this mean?!
--
That last panel though. Guren looked weird lol. Had their chins always been this round/big? I mean I knew the illustrator's artstyle had changed over the years as this manga had been running for a long time now but this is the first time I really notice. I don't like it lol. Makes them look weird and old. I might not like Guren that much but I have to admit he's handsome and this? Not at all lol.
Okay! We got the lore!! I'm happy and excited and this feels like the most hilarious development I've seen in this story in a while. Angel Mika is smart and immediately have some kind of starting plan for his goal. Sadly, it seems turning himself into Yuu-chan also lowered his braincells lol jk. It seems no one else in this metaphorical chess game realized that someone they wanted to take as pawn is also playing the game.
Guren and Shika Madu totally fucked up their plans all because they were targetting the wrong kid! Especially Guren who had been with Yuu-chan longer in this current life cause his actions in the last couple of chapters made Yuu-chan reject helping him. I think if Yuu-chan had gotten back his memories of being Angel Mika and if Guren knew about this fact, Guren probably would've had a better chance of convincing Yuu-chan to sacrifice himself since Yuu-chan's goal in life (both the past and present) was to save everyone including Mika.
Oh, ther irony! XD
This isn't a perfect story, I admit. I don't think this turn of events had been hinted before (if it had been, then it's my fault I missed all the clues) but I don't care. I'm still having a lot of fun reading.
Mika telling Yuu-chan once again that he'd just want them to live together until the end made me sooo happy! Ah, it's times like these I'm happy to be a MikaYuu fan haha. I remember that in the PSP game, they did mention this also with Mika and Yuu wanting to live and raise kids together. (>///<)
I'm curious now about what Shika Madu is actually feeling about all this in the present. He did care a lot about everyone back then but now it doesn't seem to be the case and he's willing to sacrifice the other vampires just to get his son back. But then again knowing that he could just have them reincarnated, maybe he's okay with sacrificing the current them cause he can just make new bodies for the vampires.
Also wondering why Shika Madu kept remaking the Yuu from Ancient Greece. Did he realize there's something special about this new human? Did he realize that in a way, this was the human form of the homonculus eyeball (actually Angel Mika)? Or did he just think of making a human version of homonculus Yuu cause it'd be easier to experiment on something like him which he could just remake? I wonder if it's the reason why Yuu from Ancient Greece didn't have emotions while the new humans created in the past had personalities or seemingly could have one even before getting possessed by angels?
Also, Shika Madu's tragic backstory is enough to make Rigr sympathize or at least care about him though. I wonder how this would affect things as Rigr hated the First Progenitor and was willing to oppose him. How about now?
That ending there though. What did Ferid mean by "Have you looked into their memories?" when talking to Guren? Vampires have now been revealed to be able to read memories - Rigr and Shika Madu did so earlier and Ferid says he would at the end although I think I should've seen this coming since vampires turn into demons and demons have that ability. Does the question mean Guren also have that power? How?? Or is it Mahiru-no-Yo's power their talking about since she's now Guren's demon? Hmmm..... but then again, didn't they mention a connection between the Ichinose clan and Rigr?
Oh my god, so many questions! XD
I'm so glad I didn't end up taking too many photos cause tumblr had a photo limit for posts and I didn't hit that. Excited for the next chapter! Hope it's as fun as this one.
If I don't get to post anything in the next few days, here's a Happy Holidays to you! I hope you have fun and thanks for reading. :)
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Of Men and Games
Chapter 4: Good Intentions
As Escobar’s campaign sees success, Cali grows worried of his true intentions behind gaining political power. Luckily, Fernando might be a perfect candidate to find more information on that.
P.S. Yes, Fernando meets Eduardo in this chapter
Rating: General Audience
Paring: Pacho/Male OC
Words: 4,850
“Paisa Robinhood.” Gilberto takes a small sip of whisky, casually shaking the glass, eyes still focused on TV. “What a bunch of bullshit.”
“It’s journalism at its finest, hermano.” Miguel shrugs, looking rather amused than bothered. “People will believe anything, if you put money in their hands, and put a nice story on the screen.”
“Well, think about it this way,” Pacho adds a few more ice cubes to his drink, nodding at Gilberto with a smirk, “if Escobar can really become a senator, you might be president one day.”
That makes both brothers snort.
“Hijo de puta.” Gilberto shakes his head, clearly not taking offense at all. “The bastard is actually winning though. He’s out there giving cash to everyone who can cast a vote, paying all these reporters.”
He stops talking for a brief moment, and then shares a look with Pacho and Miguel, the three of them acknowledging the same truth.
“He will probably see a big return of these investments very soon.”
“What does it mean for us?” Miguel puts down his drink and leans back into the armchair. “How does that even work? Is he going to run his business as usual, while being a fucking senator?”
“No, es imposible,” Gilberto quickly dismisses that idea, “at least he’ll have to get more…detached to the whole thing, one way or another.”
“That would be an opportunity for us, right?” Pacho chimes in. “Escobar gets busy with politics, which he doesn’t know shit about, and that leaves Medellín more vulnerable.”
To be honest, he’s never had Gilberto’s political astuteness— very few people do, but what he knows is the business they’re in right now. He knows when to strike the competition at their weakest moments, and he never misses.
“It could, but don’t forget, he also gets a lot closer to the government than we do.” Gilberto taps his fingers on the wooden desk. “That’s a lot of uncertainty and risk. We don’t know what he would do with that power.”
They fall quiet for a moment, each drowned in their own thoughts. Then, after staring into the blank for a while, Pacho finishes his whisky in one go. “How about we try to find out?”
“Find out about Escobar’s next steps, politically?” Miguel asks, more like a confirmation.
“It’s worth a try, if we can get the right person to do it.”
“Do we have anyone that…”
“Wait, hold on.” Gilberto puts a hand up, interrupting both of them. “You’re thinking about the new governor again, aren’t you?”
“The new governor? Fernando Gómez you mean?” Miguel looks between them, finally catching up. “Is he even that close to us?”
Gilberto smirks. “Some of us, apparently.”
Miguel stares at them confusedly, and then his face is washed over by realization, eyes widening in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“It’s not what you think.” Pacho laughs, but doesn’t completely deny it. “Well, not entirely. He really seems to know what he’s doing. He helped to set up our recent deal with the Head of Logistics, and we’re paying way less than our old deal with the last governor.”
“Oh get to the point, you just had a good time with the guy!” Gilberto rolls his eyes, pouring himself another drink. “Or more than one time, I don’t want to know, but hey, this is serious, ok? Do you really trust him to do this?”
Pacho bites his bottom lip, playing back all the memories of interactions he had with Fernando: conversations with hidden messages, all the testing and manipulation, back and forth, suggesting so much without revealing anything.
“I don’t know if he will find anything useful, but I do trust him to not expose his intention, or ours.”
“Then I agree with you.” Gilberto smiles and raises the glass to his direction. “It’s worth a try.”
*
Fernando stands in front of Carlos’ office, carrying a pink gift bag in his hand. Inside, there are a whole bunch of presents for little girls: a princess dress, colorful hair bands, a teddy bear, and some Disney toys he got shipped from the US.
“Governor?” Carlos opens the door, surprised to see him. “Come on in, please! Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Please, call me Fernando. How have you been?” He puts the bag on Carlos’ desk. “I spoke to your secretary earlier, and she said you’ve been quite busy. Hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
“No, of course not!” Carlos looks at the pink gift bag, “is this…?”
“Oh, these are not for you, my friend.” Fernando laughs, but then changes to a more concerned tone. “It’s for Melissa. I can’t seem to get her out of my mind since I saw her last time.”
“Sir…” Carlos touches the bag, and takes a brief look inside, but doesn’t take anything out. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I know, I want to. Actually I…” Fernando looks away for a second. His hesitation is rehearsed, but the uneasy feeling in his chest isn’t. “This is why I’m here. I know you didn’t want me to help last time, and I respect that, I really do.”
He takes a deep breath before continuing. “I spoke to my father, and he said there were other ways his foundations could help. There’s just some simple paperwork, and then…”
“Governor, Señor.” Carlos puts up both hands, still looking so polite and decent, a man with perfect manners. “I appreciate everything you’re doing for me and my family. I truly do.”
Fernando stops talking. This is the answer he’s looking for. He just needs one more confirmation. “There’s a but, I assume?”
“Yes. But there’s no need. We figured it out. Trust me, we got everything covered. Melissa is going to be fine.”
“Oh, I see.” Fernando nods. That’s all he needs to know: the honest man ended up accepting Cali’s deal. Their plan worked. “Well, I’m very glad to hear that.”
Carlos smiles, genuinely happy, but he doesn’t miss the tiny sense of sadness hidden behind. “Yeah, my wife is very happy.”
“I’m sure she is.” But she doesn’t know the truth, does she? Fernando forces out one last polite, sweet smile and gets up, not wanting to spend one more second here, in Carlos’ space. “Well, then I suppose I won’t bother you any further.”
“Oh please, how can you be bothering anyone?” Carlos also stands up and walks him to the door, but pauses when he touches the door handle. The older man turns to him again, sincere and earnest, almost fatherly.
“You are a very good man, Fernando.”
“I’ve been blessed with a happy life.” He looks to the side, avoiding Carlos’ eyes, but quickly gathers himself to firmly return the gaze. “It’s a lot easier to be good when there’s no misfortune.”
Carlos smiles, without any real joy. “I suppose we can all agree on that.”
He nods and opens the door, walking out into the wide corridor. Sunlight shines through the large windows, brightening the neat spotless ceramic tiles. People are walking around in stylish suits, bathed in a shade of golden glow, carrying important documents and hurriedly speaking on the phone. Everyone looks important, smart, decent, but he knows better.
They all know better. He is just good at accepting reality.
“Señor?” His secretary walks towards him outside of his office, the largest one in the building. “There is a call for you on your private phone.”
“Do you know who it is?”
“No Señor. I think you told me not to answer your personal calls?”
“Oh that’s right!” He laughs, acting like he really just forgot that. But it’s necessary to put up some small tests for people who work closely with him. It’s necessary. “You said private phone. Sorry Carolina, I was distracted.”
“No problem, Señor. Let me know if you need anything else.” Carolina nods politely and returns to her desk.
*
Fernando walks into his office and closes the door behind him, shutting out all the noise.
He picks up his personal phone from the shelf by the wall. It’s never on the desk, because that’s where the work phone belongs, in everyone’s sight, professional and candid.
He checks the most recently missed call, and breaks into a tiny smile as he sees the number.
He dials back.
“You must be quite busy on a workday.” It doesn’t take long for Pacho’s smooth voice to come through.
“Don’t you think it’s a little risky to call when I’m at work?” Fernando walks to his window facing the large back garden. “Others could pick up? People could be listening.”
“Yeah, our people.”
He chuckles. Right, as if everyone doesn’t already know Cali basically owns all the phone business here.
“I suppose you need something from me.” He looks outside at gardeners watering the flowers, cleaning crew emptying trash cans by the tree. “Something urgent?”
“I wouldn’t say urgent, but quite important, if you can manage to do it.”
“If I can manage to do it.” He hears the amusement in his own voice. “Alright, you got me hooked. What is it?”
“I suppose you’ve been watching the news recently?”
“Hard not to. It’s everywhere.” Fernando picks up one of the newspapers laid out on his desk, and the front page is Escobar’s big face at his campaign rally.
“We need to know what his agenda is, if he becomes a senator.”
“When he becomes a senator, you mean.”
It’s quiet for a few seconds, and then he hears a huff. “Well, I guess it just became important and urgent.”
“You want me to approach Pablo Escobar, and get information out of him?” Fernando sits down on the comfortable leather coach, but the soft cushions don’t alleviate the sourness in his chest. “Are you not a little bit concerned for my safety?”
“I didn’t say you have to, did I?” He hears Pacho’s voice soften. “Also, you don’t need to approach Escobar himself.”
“That’s a good point.” He leans back into the cushion. “Isn’t he with that journalist? Valeria? Oh! How about Duque? He was the one who lobbied him into the New Liberal’s Party.”
“That could be a good point to start.”
“Great! That should be easy. We’ve met a couple of times already.” He thinks about the way Duque always carries that ridiculous pipe around. “I don’t really like him, but whatever.”
“So he’s the less fun Fernando?”
“Oh absolutely,” he snorts, “I think he’s going to a charity event in Bogota tomorrow night. Lots of the New Liberals will be there.”
“Sounds exactly like your type of party.” There’s a small pause, and then Pacho switches to a more serious tone. “If you find anything, I owe you a favor.”
He loves the sound of that. “So what do I get in return?”
“What do you want?”
“I will think about it.” Fernando makes a mental note of that. He gets a lot of favors, but this one definitely shouldn’t be considered lightly. “For now, I’ll try to get you what you want first.”
“I shall wait for your good news then.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow night.”
“Looking forward to it.”
He keeps staring at the phone for a short while after the conversation ends, replaying the other man’s smooth, dangerous voice in his head, indulging in recent memories that are still fresh and sensational.
Then, he gets up from the coach, puts the phone back on the shelf, and tells his secretary to notify the chairman of that charity organization: the Governor of Valle del Cauca is coming to their party tomorrow.
*
Fernando is no stranger to charity parties at all. He has been attending them with his parents since he was a kid, so if he ever needs an invitation, all he needs to do is to make a phone call. Now that he has been elected as a governor, it has become even easier.
There are many friendly faces in the crowd, some he knows quite well, some he’s only seen once or twice, and some he’s not even sure he’s ever met at all. Maybe they’re just pretending to know him so they can have a conversation.
He navigates through all of them pretty much on autopilot mode. It’s one of his talents, really, he only needs to pay half attention, yet still appears highly engaging. The secret is to listen more, speak less, but when he speaks, he makes sure to always respond to one of the controversial topics people are talking about, so he can effortlessly provoke a whole new round of discussion that appears to be led by him.
Tonight, Fernando has been doing exactly that for about 45 minutes, making sure every person who approaches him is more or less pleased, until he spots Duque standing next to the bar, holding a drink in left hand, and the pipe in right hand, talking to a group of people he doesn’t recognize.
“¡Señor Duque!” He walks over, putting on his brightest smile. “It’s been a long time.”
“Governor Gómez, what a pleasure!” Duque gives him an enthusiastic handshake, and then pulls him in for a hug. “What brought you to Bogotá tonight?”
“Honestly? Just had to take a break from everything.” He makes a frustrated expression, but jokingly, not actually complaining, just to humor the audience. “You know, Valle del Cauca really feels a lot larger than it seems, once you’re managing it.”
The group of people laughs at the comment, and Duque laughs the loudest among them all. “I guess your hard work is paying off, governor, people love you! The economy’s growing, and your support within the department is over the roof!”
“Well, I try my best.” Fernando turns to the side, naturally leading Duque away from the group. “So I’m allowed to have a fun night, right?”
“Absolutely! Tell you what,” Duque puts an arm around his shoulder, “I was just talking to this very nice señorita, beautiful, smart, and I think she knows your family too! I’ll introduce you two later, and I’m sure she would love to have a dance with you!”
“You’re too good to me, my friend!” Fernando laughs alongside him. “How can I repay this kindness, hmm?”
“Oh please,” Duque waves him off, “what are you talking about? It’s nothing!”
“You’re right, you don’t need my help. The campaign you’re running is all over the TV, and I just read about it in three different newspapers too!” He observes Duque’s facial expression, monitoring every tiny change, and he doesn’t miss it when the relaxedness gets briefly clouded by caution. As annoying as Duque is, he is a lobbyist, a quite successful one at that, so of course he will become more alert whenever business comes up.
“Not gonna lie, even I’m a little jealous of the attention.” Fernando looks Duque straight in the eye as he carefully transitions the conversation to a whole other direction. “I mean, it was my face all over the news a few months ago.”
Duque’s eyes widen slightly, and then bursts out laughing.
“Oh Fernando! You’re still so young, my friend.” The older man claps him hard on the back. “You still have decades of success ahead of you. Your generation is the future!”
“Be hardworking, and be patient, right?” Fernando makes a nostalgic expression, putting on his typical good boy act. Why do people fall so easily for that every time? He never understands. “That was what my father said.”
“And you should listen to him! I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your father a few times, and he is a wise man.” Duque takes two glasses of champagne from a server, now having his guard down. When he hands a glass to Fernando, he almost acts a little fatherly. “Look, you are already a governor, the youngest governor we ever had. Your father must be proud!”
“He is.” Fernando takes a small sip of champagne just to keep up with the atmosphere he’s in. He doesn’t want alcohol to cloud his judgment in any way. “He also said this was a major step, my first milestone.”
“Exactly! You are just starting out. Who knows? You might build your own political party one day, or even become The President.”
“The President.” Fernando repeats the words in a humbled manner, like he’s flattered and in disbelief. “You really think so?”
Duque puts a hand on his shoulder, firm and comforting. “I have faith in you.”
“You’re such a delightful person to be around, Señor Duque.” He smiles, making sure to have joy and gratitude reach behind his eyes. “Really, I’m glad we talked. Recently it has just been…I won’t bother you with details, but you have no idea how helpful this is.”
“No, I get it! The sudden fame, the pressure, the responsibilities…” Duque waves it off. “It can get to you sometimes, but I promise you’ll get used to it, alright? You’re already handling everything so well!”
“You’re right, and honestly, maybe I shouldn’t even complain at all.” Fernando looks over at a group of people standing at another corner: Galán, Gaviria, Eduardo and a few more he doesn’t recognize. “Many others are in far more challenging situations than I am.”
“Well, what can I say?” Duque shrugs, “Radical positions lead to severe pushbacks.”
“Of course, but I do believe the kind of pushback needs to be taken into consideration here, doesn’t it?” He pauses for a moment to look down at the floor, and then looks back up with a slight frown, acting out a perfect balance between hesitation and determination. “Look, I think I owe you the same honesty you had for me, and I hope you know what I’m about to say comes from good intentions.”
Duque meets his gaze, silently holds it for several seconds and then gives him a small nod, inviting him to go on.
“I admit that I don’t know enough to judge, but about your candidate…words travel fast, and we both know that words carry real power in our world.” He walks one step closer and glances around, like he’s nervous of someone else eavesdropping. “I’m concerned for your safety, my friend, and the safety of others who are involved in this campaign, or even more so, those who are opposed to it.”
Duque doesn’t answer immediately. In fact, he’s not responding at all, but just maintains a calm, thoughtful composure. But Fernando can clearly see the way his fingers tighten around the champagne glass, and that alone tells him enough.
“I appreciate your concern, really, I do.” Eventually Duque responds, in a surprisingly gentle tone. “But you see, here’s the thing: there are rules in politics, not hard rules like laws, but if someone, anyone wants to get in, they will have to play by those rules, more or less. That’s just how things are.”
“And you believe Escobar will adhere to these rules too?”
“As I said, he will have to, if he really wants a seat at the table.”
“I suppose that’s fair.” He goes along with it, although he doesn’t agree in the slightest. Seriously, Duque has to be fucking delusional to truly believe that. “It makes you think though, doesn’t it? Why even go through all these troubles for a seat in the senate? I mean, he’s probably richer than all the senators combined.”
“Well, I guess I could ask you the same question.” Duque casually shakes his glass. “Why did you run for office? You already have everything you need, for the rest of your life.”
“Because I didn’t build any of that.” He admits, and this is the first honest thing he said to Duque. “Everything I have comes from my father and my grandfather. I want something just for me.”
“Makes sense, but it’s a privilege to even think that way, isn’t it?” Duque puts down the empty glass. A server comes by offering him another one, but he declines. “You see, sometimes for people who grew up with nothing, nothing’s ever enough.”
“Nothing’s ever enough.” Fernando repeats it, just for himself to hear it another time, to let it really sink in. “He’s not going to stop at the senate, is he?”
They fall into silence. A few feet away, people are going in and out of the dance floor, moving elegantly with big smiles on their faces, seemingly not having a single worry for tomorrow. Classic music is playing, is it Chopin? He should be able to tell if he listens more closely, but his mind is occupied at the moment.
*
“Señores, are you enjoying the evening?” A voice comes behind them, and Fernando recognizes it, from TV, from radio, from that party he went to a few months ago.
He did not expect to hear that voice tonight.
“Señor Escobar?” Duque turns around, looking equally surprised. “I thought you weren’t going to make it!”
“I tried to make time. You said it could be helpful for the campaign.”
Escobar answers Duque, but glances towards his direction. Fernando offers his hand first.
“Fernando Gómez. Maybe you don’t remember, but I believe we met once, Señor Escobar.”
“I remember, governor.” Escobar shakes his hand firmly. “Actually, I thought you might have forgotten about me.”
“What? That was the best party I’ve ever been to!” He laughs in a slightly exaggerated way. “A monkey drinking tequila? Hippos in the backyard? How could anyone ever forget about that?”
Escobar smiles, almost looking deceptively humble. “Well, I’m happy that I was able to entertain you.”
“Please, I was literally just telling Señor Duque, entertainment has been a luxury for me ever since I took office.” He takes another sip of champagne just to calm his nerves. He did not prepare for this.
“I could imagine.” Escobar nods, but there’s something more in his tone, like a tentative challenge. “A large part of our country’s economy moves through the port in your department.”
“Oh you have no idea.” Fernando lets out a long sigh, keeping up the pretense. “It’s been months, and I’m still trying to figure out who’s in charge of what in Transportation. Honestly, that division is a total fucking mess.”
Escobar grins, and Fernando doesn’t miss the arrogance hidden behind. Good, let Escobar think he’s just an oblivious new governor and nothing more.
“I’m sure you will get everything in order very soon, governor. I’ve heard good things about you.”
“I certainly hope so too,” he raises his glass to Escobar, “and I hope it’s easier for you, if you ever take office in future.”
Escobar clicks their glasses together. “Thank you for your good wish, governor.”
Fernando brings the glass to his lips, and drinks it all up in one go. This can be the perfect moment to walk out of the situation, just make up an excuse and leave.
However, who knows better about Escobar’s plans than Escobar himself? This is highly risky, he knows. But he plans to never see Escobar again, so it’s really now or never. When has he ever given up an opportunity like that?
He takes a deep breath and puts the glass down. “Señor Duque and I were just talking,” Fernando gestures at Duque, bringing him back into the conversation, “it was incredible that you decided to run for office now.”
That seems to arouse Escobar’s curiosity immediately. “How come?”
“Because you have already succeeded! You’ve built a fortune, all by yourself, and you can comfortably enjoy the rest of your life.”
“And I’ve told governor Gómez, we all have greater ambitions for our own reasons.” Duque joins in naturally, because that was exactly what they were talking about before Escobar showed up.
“Hey, campaigning is tedious work, right? I’ve just done it, I know!” Fernando grabs another drink from a server, intentionally making the movement a little clumsy. “But you are willing to go through all that trouble for a seat in the senate, when you already have everything.”
“Well, we only live once, don’t we?”
“Absolutely.” He shakes his glass thoughtfully. “Sometimes I feel like we never have enough time to do all we want, before our time runs out.”
“You know what I believe, governor?” Escobar moves a step closer, eyes burning with enthusiasm. “A man never dies, if he is remembered by history.”
“Remembered by history…” Fernando shifts uncomfortably, trying to ignore the chilly feeling down his spine. Yes, the extent of Escobar’s ambition worries him, but what really makes him ponder is how much he wants that for himself.
“A beautiful idea only very few men can achieve, how inspiring.” He sums it up, now ready to take the exit. “Well, it’s been great talking to you, Señor Escobar, but if you don’t mind…” He turns his attention back to Duque, “I believe our friend here wants to introduce me to a señorita?”
“Of course.” Escobar chuckles, “It would be very rude of me to get in your way about that.”
*
The girl Duque introduces him to is Camila Castillo. Their families do know each other, though not very close. She is everything Duque described: beautiful, smart, elegant, and to his pleasant surprise, they are able to have a rather engaging conversation.
He would have been good with spending the rest of this evening hanging out with her, but he can’t help but get distracted after spotting Eduardo Sandoval sitting alone by the bar, staring intensely at Escobar’s direction.
He and Eduardo have met and talked at a few events, simply because they are around the same age, but they are not friends, acquaintances at best. Frankly, Fernando’s pretty sure Eduardo doesn’t even like him, so whatever that stubborn man does should be none of his business. But after everything that’s happened tonight, he is feeling particularly altruistic at the moment, so he offers to get Camila a special cocktail, and walks over to the bar.
Eduardo notices him, but only acknowledges him with a simple nod. He doesn’t take offense; it’s actually better for him to not appear too close to Eduardo anyway.
He proceeds to give the bartender two extremely complicated cocktail orders, and takes the chance to stand next to the man.
“I just got away from there, and I strongly suggest you not to approach.”
“You don’t have to worry about me, governor.” Eduardo spares him a glance and a tiny smile. No, not a smile, more like a sneer. “Plus, you got away in one piece yourself, didn’t you?”
“Look, I’m not disagreeing with you on this matter at all, ok?” Fernando resists the urge to facepalm himself. “But what can you possibly achieve right here, right now, besides adding a big target on your back?”
Eduardo huffs with genuine humor. “Pretty sure I already got more than one.”
“And…that’s a good thing?”
The other man ignores the question long enough that Fernando almost gives up, but then he puts the drink down with a loud clatter, and turns to face him.
“Some of us have to think for more than ourselves.” Their eyes meet, Eduardo’s blue pupils deep as sapphires. “If you disagree, that’s fine, but at least don’t try to stop others.”
“I’m not trying to stop you. I’m only suggesting that, quite honestly, you don’t do anything stupid right here.”
That is far from his best approach, but at this moment, he is already incredibly exhausted and frustrated, so since he’s really doing this out of good will, Eduardo can take it or leave it.
Eduardo raises his eyebrows, the defensive demeanor turning into genuine shock, and then, to Fernando’s surprise, he laughs out. It sounds curt and humorless, but nevertheless relaxed, in a strange way.
“I appreciate your good intentions, Fernando. I really do.” Eduardo says, now addressing him by his first name. “So let me offer a suggestion to you as well: stay in your department, and try to avoid Medellín and Bogotá in the near future, for your own safety. Anyone can get a target on their back.”
If that comes from anyone else, he would probably treat it as a threat, but he knows that’s not the case with Eduardo. Eduardo is honest, and sometimes, that’s the worst.
He lets out a long sigh and covers his face with both hands, dropping all the pretense for the first time tonight. For some godforsaken reason, Eduardo is the one person who makes him feel comfortable enough to do that.
“What the hell is going on these days, Eduardo?” He turns to face the other man again, looking deep into those calm blue eyes. “Things shouldn’t be this way.”
Eduardo’s lips curve up, but there’s no joy, only bitterness. “Well, that’s something we can agree on.”
Behind Eduardo, Galán and Gaviria walk towards their direction, like two parents who just found their lost child in a shopping mall.
Fernando greets both of them politely, and excused himself. The bartender places two finished cocktails in front of him, and he takes a small sip.
It’s sophisticated, sweet and luxurious, without a hint of liquor hidden inside. From outside, it looks perfect.
@ashlingiswriting @yourlocalspacewitxch @mandaloria314 @drabbles-mc @narcolini @cherixrosa @cheesybadgers @cositapreciosa @criatividad-e @dashavau @alreadywritten @smoke-n-fiire @artemiseamoon @sikkui
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Worth noting that in THO Will performs some definitely godly feats by reattaching multiple limbs for Paolo, and this is played off by him as no big deal while Apollo outright says Will's healing powers rival Asclepius himself. Asclepius who ascends to godhood for literally curing death. And I've seen arguing on the Riordan Wiki over Will's glow qualifying as heliokinesis: TON seems to imply a connection to the sun with both his tattoo and Apollo noting how Will gravitates toward sunlight coming through windows when indoors. His glow in the tower, also comparatively godly, reminds me of how Percy describes Helios. Blazing and bright, with pupils like "pilot lights for an industrial oven." Not just in terms of brilliance but in that Helios' light ALSO came from internally, as opposed to the other gods' divine auras like Nero and Apollo. I'd personally assumed up until TON that Apollo's kids wouldn't have solar based powers because Apollo as a sun god isn't quite the same as Helios; the distinction tends to be that Apollo is the GOD OF the sun whereas Helios was the sun itself. So thank you, Will, for clearing that up.
I'd bet anything he has natural skill in music though. He has to have inherited some degree of talent from Naomi. I also disagree with general fandom consensus that he's BAD at archery? He has no inherent talent in that area but he's been at camp long enough to work at developing some offensive skills, even if it's definitely not his strong suit.
Right then, finally got around to tackling this one. Sorry about the wait, anon!
Will's healing is definitely godly to an extent - he downplays what he can do, or perhaps in the case of healing doesn't realise the implications of what he can do, because he never seems to consider his healing ability sub-par, just the fact that healing is "all" he can do (even though that's definitively not true).
Right then, Will's glow. I forget whether I've talked about this on tumblr or just in the toa discord, but when we look at the comparisons made between Will and the gods, it could easily be that what Will is actually doing is channelling/revealing his own divinity (he's half a god, he has divinity, like all demigods do). I stay away from the wiki (aside from occasionally correcting some pieces of canon info, but that's rare) so I don't know exactly what discussions go on behind the scene there, but I personally don't mind calling it either. My initial reaction is photokinesis, but heliokinesis also fits - I'd disagree that general godly glows are external, though. Apollo's descriptions of at least his own heavily imply that Apollo, too, glows from within, and I think the other occasional descriptions we get (Hera and Artemis spring to mind) also seem to be an internal glow.
Will's other inherited domains, however... I'll start with archery, because I agree with you on that one. I believe Will is decent at archery - compared to the rest of the campers, he is probably one of the better archers, however, compared to his siblings, he is the worst, and it's his siblings that Will automatically compares himself against, because he considers that they're the base line. They're all children of the god of archery, after all, so surely they're all starting at the same place?
But that's not how Apollo's kids work - because Apollo has so many domains (seriously, it's like he hoards them or something), there's no way all of his children inherit all of them to the same degree, or even at all. Will has clearly inherited healing as his dominant ability (although the glowing is also neat and rare), unlike the rest of his siblings we're introduced to, none of whom are shown to be his peer, while archery is something he has only inherited a latent skill in, by which I mean yes, he can pick up a bow (any bow) and shoot it and probably hit the target just fine, but he can't do all the super-accurate almost trick shots the likes of Kayla and Michael can do.
Music, on the other hand, I am going to disagree with you with. We know Will does have musical abilities because he says so himself in BOO when talking about his ultrasonic whistle ("one of my few musical talents"), but I don't think his musical talents can be along the lines of the traditional ones, like we see with Austin. If he could sing/play an instrument, etc., he would probably admit it because Naomi would (hopefully) have given him some affirmation. Even if not Naomi, at camp the thing we see the Apollo kids do the most is perform - I don't know if the campfire is every night, but it certainly seems to be most nights, and I don't think any musical talent would be missed.
What I think Will's musical talents are are more along the lines of sound manipulation - we know he can go ultrasonic with his whistle, perhaps he can vary that to different types of sonic. Perhaps it's not just when he whistles, but he can do it with his voice, too - being able to yell really loud is the sort of ability that I could absolutely see Will having and also fitting in with his personality. He's yelled a few times in the books, and he's confident enough in his beliefs and morals to stand his ground, so having an extra layer to his voice that he could tap into if he wants to would be both really neat and different from the bog-standard music abilities we otherwise know about.
I just can't see him having any sort of standard musical abilities otherwise he wouldn't be so derogatory about them, especially as it would be a link to his mother (unless, of course, Naomi Solace was a horrible mother that Will wants nothing to do with, but from the canon descriptions of her, even though I think she might have been a little emotionally distant at times and struggled with motherhood, I can't see her being that bad).
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that ties into the fact that we have no idea whatll happen to wilbur afterwards
I would love to believe that he wont be forced into any roles (maybe even get to figure out his relationship with clara, communicate it out with her in a way or something tho that is very hopeful and foolish) and get to live as a person if he wishes to (which im confident to say he does)
he has phil on his side (and surely also tommy, niki techno, some other deathlings too) and I would even dare to believe eret wouldnt force him into a strict role like that, plus he did agree to the plan but im not sure if that really accounts for any insurance
but does any of that really matter if he still keeps getting visions
at this point it doesnt feel like enough for wilbur to get to be a person while still getting and relaying vision, bc there is deep rooted trauma
I think he either ignores the visions or fixes his relationship with clara ig (idk how that could even happens but it would definitely be very interesting ngl)
not sure if that makes sense but in general im just praying for some closure and freedom for him, my boy deserves at least that
wilbur has made some insane progress lately and it can be seen, especially in the last chapter and I go over that in my comments but just trusting more in general, less afraid to break pythia rules, ... im so proud of him
what I do want to point out is how, despite the deathlings being his friends/family now, the good ones basically, and even kristin being more there than clara ever really was, wilbur still doesnt like kristin and doesnt want to be a deathling
like hes with them and hes one of them in a way, but hes not a deathling, he isnt switching to kristin just bc he hates clara
and I absolutely love that, bc while switching to being a deathling would make sense, his journey here is about discovering himself, without the influence of anyone else, especially not goddesses (I think if he werent chosen as the pythia he wouldve been an atheist, talking to q about it was very intriguing to him)
on completely different note I noticed that the kind of visions wilbur receives (or maybe how he perceives them) is relevant to how he feels about something rn, like the vision about escaping vs the new vision being confused bc hes confused
not sure if thats what's actually happening but it feels like it
and ofc I cant forget, THAT SANDDUO SCENE? WITH THE NAME REVEAL? BONES YOUR SANDDUO ARE EVERYTHING TO ME
so unbelievably proud of wilbur for how far hes come and prying this all goes well and he gets to live the life he deserves
and a mandatory "the pythia"/"wilbur" narration changes bc I dont think ill ever be normal about that, it just always gives every moment even more meaning, its genius
2/2
hm... while it would be great for wilbur not to be forced into any more roles he IS still clara's chosen. he is still going to receive visions of the future whether he wants them or not. and that means something even if he doesn't want it to.
guess you'll have to wait and see how that turns out :)
yeah the thing is I think a lot of readers expected wilbur to switch to kristin since she's the 'opposite' of clara in a sense, but that's not the route i wanted to go down. wilbur's trauma is so deeply ingrained, any kind of religious institution leaves a bad taste in his mouth now. the past ten years of his life have been dictated by the rules of the divine, but he doesn't want that anymore. he wants to step away from the divine entirely, and get the experience he's been denied for so long: just being a person.
aaa thank you I loved writing that sandduo scene so much. he's made SO much progress it's been so fun to write his slow character growth throughout this entire fic, and finally reap the rewards.
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The Deep End: Session 1 (part 1)
Where to even begin?
Every DM gets the same warning when learning to run a game: your players won't do what you expect them to do.
We nod politely, trying to accept the obvious advice in the spirit its been given, all the while thinking: Ah, but I know these players. Forewarned is forearmed, I can direct and even predict their paths! I alone can outmaneuver the DM's curse!
Needless to say, you can't predict the unpredictable. But I'm getting ahead of myself, because actually...
By any objective metric, our first session went amazing! The final hours of preparation stretched well into the morning-of, leaving me with about 4 hours of actual sleep. Mrs. Ugrush lifted mountains to make the place ready for the adventuring party, and everyone arrived annoyingly on-time, which meant I ran out of excuses to delay our start time and could only barrel through the stage fright.
Oh, did I forget to mention the stage fright? Because it's monstrous. I've always had it; no matter how many middle-school plays, and high-school theater clubs, and college classes, the last 10 minutes before the curtain rises are utterly brutal on me. I've learned to just sweat it out, grind my teeth, and push on...but every time I do, I know it will be back.
I think it comes from a good place, honestly. We want the audience - or the players - to have a good time. We want to be able to deliver lines and narrative with confidence, and bring people into the world. It's pressure! I can't pretend to like it, but I know I've done enough preparation when, a few minutes in, that pressure disappears - left behind by the momentum.
I knew to expect the stage fright. What I didn't expect was to completely disassociate for the first two minutes!
I know, that sounds alarming, but it's not as weird as it sounds. There's something about that tension before GO-TIME that just...propels the first couple of minutes. It's like jumping off a diving board and not remembering the moment between choosing to jump, and hitting the water.
Here's a snippet:
You have only my word, of course, but as my players can attest I did not remember most of this conversation and had to go back and listen to it just so I could re-create the character. It was surreal.
Which brings me to my first tip, I suppose: RECORD EVERYTHING. It's just so much easier than taking notes while DM'ing, or cribbing from a player later. Get everyone's permission first, of course, but odds are if you're having any fun at all, they'll want to re-listen too.
Eisenhower is credited with saying "[..] plans are useless, but planning is indispensable," and I couldn't agree more. Having planned out the history of the city, created major characters with their own histories, and laid out points of interest as well as plot hooks in several different forms, we had no problem keeping within the bounds of what I had prepared....which does not mean everything went as expected!
Some of it is my fault - a central theme in Voltaire is the fair, and I stocked that fair with interesting locations and characters. Out of an abundance of caution, I prepared more than I thought would be needed so that players would be free to explore. What I did not expect was that my players would want to see every. single. one. I had to stop dropping hints after a while because they couldn't help but chase them down, and it was diverting their progress on any one thread!
Having gone in with an expectation that holding their interest would be a challenge, I was shocked. Wait, they actually like this place? I'm not boring them?
I can only say thank you to my players for being so gracious - they're not obliged to take the worldbuilding seriously, but they were constantly up for it and that made it so much better for me. The physical props were a big hit too - everyone got a poster as a kind of party favor/quest hint, and the city map generated actual gasps:
That's one hell of a morale booster for a first time DM.
So I could hardly blame the players for playing in the sandbox; that's why its there! But I did make another kind of mistake, the newbie-watching-too-much-actual-play kind: I tried, very hard, to give each player their own introduction.
If your first thought is oh, that's so thoughtful! Let me tell you, it's not. Players by and large do not want to shoulder the narrative burden. So, tip number two: Playing and DM'ing are different modalities.
It went fine at first; part of one player introduction is up there with Fennegan's audio. Then, we tried to get too clever. I prompted one player in advance that he should expect some conflict, and that this conflict would give another player an opportunity to intervene: a kind of DnD meet-cute. I wanted something more interesting to explain their relationships than "we all met in a tavern".
In doing so, however, I ended up inadvertently leaving an essential bit of progress up to the player's instincts, without giving him all the info he would need to play along gracefully. The conflict in question was a pair of guards shaking down his fair display for protection money. I had the guards give him some attitude and the suggestion of a threat, fully expecting his response to be hostile in reply - or at least uncooperative.
Instead, Cliff (the character), decided that the smart move was to comply, and negotiate for more benefits for the transaction.
It was great! What unexpected roleplay! But do you know how hard it is to keep a couple of throwaway thugs acting angry when they're getting what they want? How can Tal (the Rogue waiting in the wings for her 'cue') come to your rescue when you no longer need saving?!
My bad.
It was the only real stumble of the night, because we had no choice but to just improvise a pre-existing relationship for them on the spot. Lesson learned - individual introductions are tricky. And yet, I couldn't be mad about it. Firstly, because I set them up for this mistake. And secondly, because the scene still needed someone to run the guards off, I was forced to amplify a background character into a leading role in a way I'd not even slightly anticipated.
And that's when I knew I really liked this game.
It's such a strange sensation to build the car, lay down the roads, and put up street signs for your story, and then put someone else in the driver's seat...but that's what DnD really is! It's cooperative storytelling, and improvisation (informed by your preparation) in service to progressing that story is obligatory.
(And also a lot of fun!)
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So the crux of “The Debt”, our most significant take away from this pivotal two-parter, is that Xena and Gabrielle are PERILOUSLY close to imploding. See also: everything that is about to happen over the next few episodes. OH HO HO IT IS DELIGHTFUL.
What I think I may love best about The Debt (and I say this through the haze of years, and so reserve the right to find all new things to love as I revisit) is the way the mud slings EVERYWHERE. The final shot of the second part is and will remain *chef’s kiss*, but this is also Gabrielle slipping further and further into her own pit of despair and fury. I have no doubt we’ll be talking about this EXTENSIVELY as the liveblog progresses.
We don’t have to wait though, as we slam out the gate with this first exchange of the episode. GOD IT’S DELICIOUS. There’s the surface of course, where it’s Xena and Gabby squishy feels time, and I’m THERE. But when you look at it through the lens of what’s happened, of the things we know that Xena doesn’t, AND IT’S UNFETTERED BULLSHIT. (While also being completely true, which is one of the beautiful things about it all.)
What is the “everything” of which Gabrielle speaks? Well just over the last few weeks, its laundry list includes:
being completely manipulated by the ultimate evil
stabbing a bitch
impregnated by the aforementioned ultimate evil
giving birth to a supernaturally aging baby who may be the penultimate evil
who strangled a bitch
but in whom all (ahem) hope has been stashed so let’s not think about all that too hard
except when her wife didn’t agree and wanted to kill it
leading to the manipulated becoming the manipulator
dead ass lying to and betraying her wife
sending the possible penultimate evil down the river alone to fend for its supernaturally aging baby self
leaving Gabrielle with nothing to cling to but the faintest wisp of hope ABOUT her hope
which she may well never see or hear about ever again giving her neither comfort nor closure
AND SHE HAS TO JUST BE FINE ABOUT IT ON THE OUTSIDE BECAUSE IT’S ALL A LIE IT’S AN ONGOING TRAGEDY PERFORMED BEFORE XENA’S EYE AND SHE CAN NEVER KNOW GABRIELLE CAN NEVER SLIP IT’S JUST THIS FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE FOREVER
This is the “everything” Gabrielle is thanking Xena for. This is the everything she has to put every drop of energy into pretending either doesn’t exist or doesn’t matter.
Gabby’s keeping it together, but by the thinnest of threads. She can’t take much more.
So, of course, she’s about to have to.
#jet wolf watches xena#xena 3x06#while i generally agree with what we finally have revealed in 'forget me not'#up to and including that the show takes pains to make sure we KNOW it was gabrielle's decision#that everything about to happen in 'the debt' is her deliberate choices#i absolutely don't buy jealousy as the driving factor#not that it has no place i think it does#particularly when we note it's not the first time xena does stuff like this#but what really drives gabrielle to make those choices?#RAGE#REVENGE#this is our glimpse at a gabrielle becoming that xena of the past#it looks different on gabby#as it should#but this is it this is gabrielle at her absolute worst#i'll give the show gold star after gold star for what it does and how it does it#but i think there is where it flinched#ANYWAY THAT'S FOR LIVEBLOGS FROM NOW SORRY#MY MIND'S WHIZZING ALL OVER THE PLACE#oh ps: that smile on xena's face in the last cap as gabby says that#xena you're so clever and yet also so incredibly stupid
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Honeymoon Headcanons: Mayans Edition
Characters: Angel, Coco, EZ x F!Reader
Miami (Angel)
It wasn’t difficult at all to decide where the two of you would take your honeymoon. When you weren’t gonna be naked, Angel wanted you in sundresses and bikinis. You wanted him in linen shirts, and to feel him up in a club. Couple that with you both wanting a tropical environment, and Miami it is.
Angel letting you handle the accommodations, because you seem to know more about what you wanna see/where you wanna go than he does. He only cares about a bed and shower for when he’s not taking you in the inappropriate places. He just hands over the cash, though he complains about his hurt wallet.
Angel hard as a rock when he sees your new name on your plane ticket.
The two of you nearly missing your flight because your husband needs to “show his wife he loves her”.
You babying him on the flight, because Angel has never flown anywhere before.
“Mami, it’s perfectly valid to feel like a flying toaster can’t safely get you anywhere but a casket. Which they can’t even put you in, because you’ll be everywhere!”
Cue you distracting him with kisses and dirty words in his ear, which gets you initiated into the Mile High Club
Barely making it into the cute little condo before the two of you are at it again, collapsing in the late hours to jet lag and mutual satisfaction.
Your first official day is spent dragging Angel around the humid streets. Knowing he stresses easily if you plan things too tightly, and wanting to wing it yourself. It’s surprising how well you to fit in, it almost feels like home.
Angel switching from being jealous, because your tiny cotton sundress is attracting more than just his attention, to him kissing all over your dewy skin because so much of it is visible.
You getting as jealous as Angel, because it seems like each place you drag him to has openly interested ladies. It’s the white linen shirt that he won’t fully button no matter how many times you try to make him.
Angel basking in the attention, and even playing it up to force you to be the one to initiate inappropriate public sex.
Smirking when you break after a woman pays for his (and unintentionally yours) order at a small cafe you stepped into and you snap and drag him to a hidden place.
“I only love you querida, mi alma.” he whispers in your ear when he bottoms out inside you.
You two are a beautiful couple. Photogenic as all hell. Alone, neither of you have a problem attracting interest, but together, you make people want to be seen around you. That’s why you have no problem club hopping to all the exclusive places.
Angel taking photos and videos of you dancing because he’s so enthralled. He can’t wait to show your kids one day when they ask why he fell for you, and he explains how full of life you are.
Getting enough liquor in Angel to get him dance somewhere away from the club, especially since he (lies) and says he can’t.
You and Angel competing to see who can get the most people to buy your drinks + the two of you losing track because you both get drunk.
A quickie in the coatroom is the prize, Angel fucking you to the hypnotic beat.
Spending a few hours apart the following day, only to still keep texting and FaceTiming each other until you met up, touch starved, at a small restaurant.
Deciding to spend the rest of the day at your Airbnb laid up under each other after Angel scores weed. Teasing Angel about his monetary complaints when you spend all night enjoying the small backyard pool.
Angel thanking God for getting an adventure loving woman as his soulmate when you wake him up the next afternoon to inform him you rented jet skis for the day.
You being impressed when, while jet skiing, Angel silver tongues your way into an invitation to a nearby yacht party out of the host.
FaceTiming Gilly to make him jealous that you two are doing Hookah and drinking Casamigos in a hot tub.
Angel ramping up the mockery when EZ and Coco appear on screen, attracted by Gilly’s whining. Everyone looking overworked and salty, while you and Angel are living your best non-sober lives.
Slipping away from the party to one of the rooms on the boat, because once again, you and Angel never know when to stop teasing each other before it ends up in sex.
Feeling bold enough to suggest that since Angel’s been documenting so much of the trip, that maybe he should film this too.
The aftermath being a surprisingly sweet series of kisses and confessions where the two of you express how thankful you are to have found each other. How you can’t wait to build a forever together.
Marfa + Roswell (Coco)
No one knew how you got Coco to agree to travel for your honeymoon until you finally revealed where you were going. Splitting a week between Marfa and Roswell.
You and Coco are that “weird” conspiracy, incense, and weed couple, so it makes sense.
Giving Coco an edible before you leave, because like Angel, he doesn’t fuck with air travel like that.
“They got me with that bullshit in the military, but that was out of my control. You askin’ a lot right now, you’re lucky you’re cute mujer.”
Coco getting progressively handsy during the flight as the edible hits. Eventually, you stop fake-fighting his neck kisses and forward touches.
Also like Angel in that he’s unafraid to become a member of the Mile High Club.
The ride from the El Paso airport, to the car rental place, to Marfa takes far longer than Coco would like.
He’s used to long stretches of trip on his bike, and when you notice him becoming antsy, you distract him with interesting facts about Marfa.
The entire time, Coco can’t help but think that you’re the perfect road trip co-pilot, only to realize he actually meant his life in general now.
Coco proud as hell when you fall in love with his accommodations choice like he did. The colorful airstream trailers of the El Cosmico hotel are the two of you through and through.
You both trying to be responsible adults and refresh after travel, but continuing to get lost in each other during the whole process.
Shower sex -> Making out while drying off -> Touching while searching through your bags for something to wear -> bed sex -> repeat
Looking thoroughly mauled when you finally manage to get Coco off of you and into the car in search of food the next afternoon.
Coco being happy you can’t cover up due to the heat, while you wonder what superpower he and his boys have that let them wear flannel and long sleeves in the heat.
Dragging Coco to a cute cafe you saw on instagram, and him knowing, by the hipster design of it, that his wallet is about to cry.
Stealing food from his plate, and laughing at him sucking his teeth and whining when he catches you.
“You’re stuck with me forever now Johnny sooo….get used to this.”
“Small price to pay for that I guess.”
Finding small shops to go to and being Siamese twins in every one. Coco showing he has good taste in a lot of things one might think he wouldn’t. Him opening up his wallet at everything you 'ooh' and 'aww' at. He can’t help it, he likes you happy, and your kisses and adoring looks are addicting.
For almost everything you get, Letty gets something too. Neither of you wants that tantrum when you get back.
You fighting yourself to avoid the art supply store, and Coco not having it.
“I have so many supplies already, it’s an addiction at this point.”
“So? Get some more. It’s our week, we shouldn’t stress about shit.”
Coco bragging on your talents and successes to the art shop cashier when you checkout.
“Cocoooo.” you murmur hiding your face in his shoulder, arms around his waist.
“Don’t be shy ma, you’re fucking amazing. I love your skills.”
Cue the cashier swooning at the two of you.
Finding unique liquor stores and getting tipsy on samples. It becomes twice as fun when locals, and other tourists alike, start discussing the Marfa lights with you, and you and Coco impress everyone with your ideas.
Being invited to a bonfire smoke session with the other El Cosmico guests when you get back.
Sketching Coco by the firelight, because he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in that moment, and now he’s officially yours.
The sex being on another level of intimate that night, because all day you and Coco have been engaging in your respective love languages, and it culminates in mutual need for each other.
The drive to Roswell being more tolerable for Coco, but he still misses his bike. Your excitement about AlienFest is so palpable however, he quickly forgets.
Your hotel being more conventional, but the people you meet making up for it. Finally, you and Coco aren’t the weirdest ones in the room.
Taking the time before the festival starts to check in with friends and family and accumulate odd souvenirs for them. You believe Coco is intentionally getting them stuff they’ll hate.
“Taza won’t wear that baby, he has better taste in jewelry than UFO earrings.”
“Ok, but can he bitch about us not getting him anything? Plus, you can guilt anyone into anything.”
Doing cute edible pastries at the festival.
“You know Aliens are demons right? Jack Parsons and L. Ron Hubbard were doing summoning rituals in the Mojave in 1946, and Roswell was the following year.”
“Word?…Shit. Tell me that again when we’re not rolling. I wanna read about it………you’re so smart mami.”
Coco realizing between every snack stop, every dance he shares with you, every trinket you pick up, and every little conspiracy tidbit you share, that you’re his wife now. That the peace he’s been feeling all week, that he thought he’d never have, is going to be his new normal.
New Orleans (EZ)
You and EZ both enjoy engaging with history and culture, and felt that your honeymoon should be built off of your shared interests. During your meticulous wedding planning, it was decided New Orleans would be the honeymoon destination. It didn’t hurt that you missed your southern roots too, even if you weren’t from New Orleans.
Traveling with EZ is a dream considering you’re both pretty organized, together people. He’s not afraid of flying, but you’re always a little nervous.
EZ being Best Husband™️ and soothing even the most minor of your stresses by turning your attention to the excitement of your trip and your new relationship status.
Teasing EZ in-flight won’t get you Mile High Club initiated, because he finds it much more entertaining to punish you by letting you work the both of you up, and making you stay that way for the duration of the flight. He’s got enough will power to suffer through it, because your soft whines make it worth it.
The airbnb is everything it was promised to be, and you’d appreciate that later, but all you can think of is your husband when you step through the door. That’s the other half of why EZ likes to leave you waiting. Your aggression and exclusive desire for him gets, and keeps, him hard.
It rains the following day, which is just as well, because neither of you are quite ready to stop physically expressing your love for each other. The day consists of ordering food, falling out of your clothes and onto each other, separating to read, falling back on each other, and quick naps.
Angel sending mocking texts in your Reyes group about how you’re trying to turn his brother bamma like you, only to stop when you threaten him with no souvenirs.
EZ and you taking responsibility for your own tour because let’s face it, you both know exactly what you want to see, and can plan a more satisfying tour for the both of you. You take turns deciding where to go next.
When it’s his turn, EZ picks an art museum, and can’t quit smiling about it. You think it’s because he picked a place he really wanted to go to.
“Babe, I have a surprise for you.”
“What?” your excitement always makes EZ’s heart race with his own.
He hands you the guide brochure he picked up at the door, folded to the section he wants you to look at.
“Faith Ringgold exhibit?!”
He hums and nods, grunting when you knock into him with a hug.
“Thank you for thinking of me. I love you.” you look up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears and he just kisses you, afraid he’ll cry if he says anything.
The two of you avoid the tourist trap spots for lunch and find a cute family owned cafe. You order for the both of you based on what you know about southern cuisine and both of your tastes.
You love watching EZ fall in love with the food as he keeps asking “Can you make this?” about everything he eats.
The two of you walking through the Garden District in the evening. Hands swinging between you with no plans but to admire the beautiful homes and foliage.
EZ noting how awestruck you are, and you describing what you love about the historic, towering homes.
He catches that when you describe what your dream home in the area would be, he and your future children are mentioned frequently, and it makes butterflies dance in his stomach. He can picture your family in the yards around him.
The two of you almost make it back to your Airbnb, but give into your baser urges after all the domestic conversation. EZ pulls you into an alley for a quickie, the two of you fighting to silence the other’s vocal expression.
You teasing EZ after that he’s more like his brother than he thinks. Him teasing back the two of you would’ve been caught and arrested if he was like Angel.
The following day is relaxed and less planned. The both of you getting thoughtful gifts for each member of your family, blood and otherwise. EZ scores major points for the gifts he suggests for your mom and dad, and you kind of want to jump him again.
EZ is glad you’re impressed, but it’s nothing to him. It all comes naturally because he loves you so much, and refuses to be anything other than the husband he knows you deserve.
AN:
I didn’t want to add this, cuz I wanted to end on a sweet note, but you just know Angel would accidentally send that vid to one of his boys.
Personally, I lose it for shit like this. Anything domestic in writings is my jam, so I decided to make these headcanons.
- Fun fact: Jet Ski is kind of like Bandaid in that it’s become the generic term for “personal water vehicles”, but it’s actually a specific brand’s name for their PWVs. I learned this while writing this enjoy💀.
#mayans mc#mayans imagine#angel reyes#angel reyes x reader#coco cruz#coco cruz x reader#ez reyes#ez reyes x reader#reader insert#angel reyes imagine#coco cruz imagine#ez reyes imagine
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Starfall - Azriel x fem! Reader
Disclaimer: this is my first piece I’ve ever published. I’m not taking requests but would be open to ideas for new things to write! Let me know what you think. I had this idea the other day and couldn’t stop thinking about it until I wrote it down. I also originally named the main fem! character but decided to make it Y/N at the last minute, so if her name is in there then whoops! Either way, enjoy xx
Starfall. The most beautiful night in Prythian. Souls traveling to a far off place, leaving a blinding beauty in their wake. The Night Court prepared for weeks to welcome their passage.
Each member of the Inner Circle enjoyed this day, but Azriel often used this day to mourn. And to hope. Each year, he would wish upon those flying glimmers of starlight. Praying. Hoping. One day, he would find his mate.
In the past, he used the evening to drink and pray and hope that Mor would realize she was his mate. But when she and Emerie confirmed their mating bond two years prior, Azriel simply used this evening to wish upon the stars for someone of his very own.
This year was not any different, until two months before when a secret Illyrian camp was raided and a young woman was found, wingless. She was battered and bruised, terrified of any male who came near her. Cassian had brought her back to the House of Wind with Feyre’s help, to give her a place to recover and rest.
Over the coming weeks, she revealed to Mor and Amren that her name was Y/N, and that she had been sold to the foul Illyrians at a high price to help support her family. She was used for work, cleaning and cooking, and kept in a small room. She revealed her wings were taken after a visit where Rhysand and Cassian required Devlon to start training all Illyrian females. As she told the story, even Amren shed a tear.
Cassian and Azriel were introduced to Y/N, along with Nesta, to help train her. Even without wings, Feyre believed it would do her much good to know how to protect herself. And Y/N vowed she would never again let someone lay hands on her unless she asked. Over the weeks, Cassian and Azriel coached from the sidelines as Nesta and Mor demonstrated and helped, since Y/N still feared the males being too close. Each day she grew a little stronger, and became more confident. It became evident just how much the training was helping her mentally when she agreed to come out for a night at Rita’s with the Inner Circle. Much to Morrigan’s delight, as she would finally have a friend to dance with who wouldn’t make inappropriate comments like Cass.
Azriel couldn’t help but watch from across the bar as Mor and Y/N jumped and spun, without a care in the world. However, he became alarmed as he noticed two dark males approaching her from behind. Each one reached to grab her arms, and he growled as he flew from his chair. He pushed the men back, scooping Y/N into his arms and winnowing both her and Mor to the back of the bar where he knew no one would be. When he put her down, Y/N stared at him breathlessly. She couldn’t believe it, but when he came out of nowhere to rescue them, she hadn’t felt fear. In fact, she felt a strange pull in her stomach. Deep, aching. Longing. Like, she had known him before, in another time perhaps.
The mating bond.
It caused her to step back as it snapped into place.
But Azriel didn’t seem to notice a thing.
“Are you alright?” He asked, gently brushing a hand to her elbow as she stood, star struck.
“Yes. I’m fine….thank you.” She replied after a few awkward seconds.
Mor gave her a puzzling look, “Uh…okay you two let’s go home. Az…”
He grabbed their hands and winnowed them back to their home.
That night, Y/N sat alone in her room, feeling a pull towards the shadowsinger’s room. She knew she should probably stay, but she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she went. Her curiosity got the best of her, and all of a sudden she was stood outside his bedroom. One hand ready to knock, but unsure of what she would say. She stood there nervously until the door cracked open, and Azriel popped his head out into the hall. He was only wearing some trousers, his hair disheveled from the slumber he’d just awoken from.
“ Y/N. Is there…something wrong?” He asked nervously.
“I…I…” Y/N scrambled for a reason to be in front of his door, “I sometimes have nightmares. I can’t fall asleep because I’m afraid of having a terrible dream.”
“Oh. I see.” Azriel said.
Y/N stood there, unsure of what to do next, “I shouldn’t have come. I’m sor-“
But before she could finish her thought, he grabbed her wrist gently and brought her inside.
“You can stay for a little while if you’d like,” Azriel started, “I have nightmares too. About my hands. And my mother. We can watch out for each other. And I can take you back to your room when you’re ready. You take the bed, I can sleep here.” He gestures to the small couch at the foot of his bed.
“Azriel I don’t want to take your bed.” Y/N stated, feeling guilty about coming in the first place.
“I insist.” Azriel gestured to the bed.
She sat down on the edge, as he laid himself on the couch that was barely big enough for him and his enormous wings. Even with them all tucked in, he nearly spilled out the sides of the couch.
She laid down as well, waiting for slumber to set in, but it didn’t, because she could only focus on the tug from her to him.
Close to an hour had passed, when finally a whisper emerged from the quiet. “Az?” Y/N lay flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
“Yes?” Azriel replied timidly.
“Can you…can you come up here?” Y/N asked rather calmly.
Silence filled the room, before the tall and dark Illyrian stood from the couch, slowly setting himself down on the other side of the bed. He lay flat on his back as well, as if trying to avoid touching her at all costs.
She reached across the bed and found his hand, interlocking her fingers in his. She rubbed her thumb along the lines of his scars.
“Thank you. For rescuing me. Maybe I can help rescue you from your nightmares?” Y/N said.
Azriel smiled at the ceiling in the dark, “Perhaps.”
________________________________________
Each of the girls from the Inner Circle had gone to the seamstress weeks prior to the event to have gowns made for the celebration. Each of the girls selected a gown some shade of Night Court black, except for Y/N. Feyre and the rest of the Night Court females found a gorgeous silver silk fabric, embedded with tiny crystals. When held up to the light, the fabric twinkled like a sea of stars.
“ Y/N! Since you are our special guest for the celebration, you should have a dress made from this!” Mor shouted, shoving a pile of the fabric into Y/N’s arms.
Y/N stared, mouth wide open, “I’m not sure, I don’t want to…”
Feyre stopped her by gentle placing a hand on her shoulder. “You are not a burden, and no one will be upset if you outshine every one of us. You deserve to have a night as fabulous as you are after all you’ve endured.”
Y/N smirked and nodded. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. I’ll have a dress made from this!”
________________________________________
The males waited, rather impatiently, in the front hall at the bottom of the staircase.
“You all have been getting ready since 10 o’clock this morning, you can’t SERIOUSLY still be primping can you??” Cassian grumbled as he leaned back on the wall.
Morrigan exited her room where they had all been drinking, giggling, and preparing for the evening. “You clearly have no understanding of what getting ready means to females, “ she said as she rolled her eyes at the general.
One by one, each of the girls stepped out. Feyre and Y/N were the last left inside the room. “You look lovely, Y/N. I’m so glad you’ve become one of our best friends.” Feyre gave Y/N a small squeeze. Y/N smiled, still appearing somewhat nervous for this evening.
Feyre studied her face closely, “He will think you are the most magnificent creature in the room tonight,” she whispered with a wink.
All the breath left Y/N’s lungs as she thought of the spymaster.
Mate.
Mate.
Mate.
Her heart pounded as Feyre gave her hand a quick squeeze before heading to the staircase. “Come along, Y/N. Let’s show them what you’ve got.”
________________________________________
His breath caught in the back of his throat at the sight of her at the top of the staircase.
The floor length gown had a deep v down the front, with two sheer straps that wrapped over her shoulders and crossed in the back. The silky fabric flowed as she took each step. She shimmered like starlight, and as the shimmering fabric moved it made it as thought Y/N herself was glowing in the night.
“Holy shit.” Cassian mumbled under his breath. Nesta elbowed him in the stomach, causing him to go into a coughing fit.
As Y/N reached the bottom of the stairs, everyone stopped what they were doing.
“Well, shall we?” Rhysand asked with a playful grin, simultaneously locking arms with his mate and nudging his spymaster brother towards the girl in the sparkling gown.
Azriel and Y/N stood for a moment. Y/N’s eyes remained focused on her feet, and Azriel watched as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. In that moment, when she looked up and locked eyes with him, he felt everything. A rushing of magic, or spirit, or something, coursed through his veins.
“Mate,” he said, so softly that only she could hear.
They remained frozen in time, stood there, taking in one another. As if their souls needed time to catch up on all the time they had been apart.
Azriel extended a hand to her, and their hands intertwined as they left the front hall. As they walked, Azriel leaned in and whispered to his mate, “You know, it might be hard to keep my hands off of you tonight.” Y/N peered up at him through her thick eyelashes. “You are quick to forget, I have not accepted the bond yet,” she replied with a smirk.
“You wound me, my love,” he stated with a look of bewilderment and shock. It took everything in him not to scoop her into his arms and winnow back to his room, to have his way with her right then and there.
________________________________________
They danced most of the night. So much so, that Cassian made several jokes about how he’d never seen his brother dance that much in their entire lives. It didn’t bother Y/N or Azriel one bit.
The couple stopped to sit and watch as the souls began to descend across the sky, traveling to wherever they belong. Azriel couldn’t help but watch his mate as she stared into the sky, absolutely enamored with her.
Y/N could feel the sting of his stare on her cheek. She turned to him, and reached across the table, her hand closed holding an object tightly inside. “I’d like to give you something,” she smiled. Azriel gave her a perplexed look, opening her hands to find a macaron.
He looked at the pastry, then his mate, and back to the pastry. “Are…are you certain?”
“I’ve never been more certain in my life.” Y/N replied confidently.
Azriel forced himself to savor every bite of the macaron, when really he wanted to shove the whole thing into his mouth so he could whisk her away from the party. Once he was finally finished, he stood, gesturing for Y/N to take his hand.
Cassian shouted from across the dance floor, “Hey brother!! Don’t be too loud tonight, SOME of us need our beauty rest!!” Nodding his head towards Rhysand. Feyre smacked him across the back of his head and Rhysand laughed. Azriel let out a low growl, but Y/N placed her hand on his lower back and stood on her tip toes to whisper in his ear.
“Take me home, shadowsinger.”
And they winnowed away into the night, as fast as the spirits had traveled across the midnight sky.
#azriel x y/n#azriel x reader#illyrian#rhys x feyre#high lady feyre#feyre x rhysand#sjmaas#sarah j maas#acomaf#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#acosf#acowar#acotar#acotar fanfic#acotar fanfiction#acotar fandom#shadowsinger#Azriel x fem!#starfall
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Hi if its not too much trouble, would you mind writing a meta on Nora and her semblance?? Shes my absolute fav and kinda underappreciated imo
Hello anon!
I love Nora as well! I think she is the most emotionally intelligent character in the series, to be honest. That said, I am waiting for her story to reach its climax before writing a meta on her semblance. This is because I think we are still missing the heart of her arc to be honest.
That said, I have talked a little bit about her here and here. Moreover, you can find some general thoughts under the cut.
It is clear that Ren and Nora’s arcs are strongly intertwined. What is more, I think the Atlas arc has clarified how they are structured and what their role is in the overall story.
First of all, Ren and Nora’s story revolves mainly around each other and their relationship. They are introduced in volume 1 as a set. They are a couple of opposites that complement each other:
As the series goes on, it is revealed that they share a traumatic past event aka Kuroyuri’s destruction. That night they meet and they both receive a weapon:
Li’s dagger becomes the basis of Ren’s StormFlower, while the toy hammer becomes the basis of Nora’s Magnhild. So, Ren defines himself through his dead parents and his destroyed village, while Nora defines herself through Ren. Not only that, but Ren’s rudimentary weapon being a real one, while Nora’s being just a toy highlights that by that point Nora’s sense of self is frailer than Ren’s.
This all creates an asymmetry in their relationship:
Nora: I don’t actually know who I am… without Ren. Pretty sad, huh?
This asymmetry is explored and commented on throughout volume 8. Basically, Nora is clearly in love with Ren, but their recent conflict makes her understand how she has depended on him too much and how, if they want to have a healthy relationship, Nora needs to discover who herself wants to be.
Volume 8 really marks a shift in their relationship, not just when it comes to them in-story, but also structurally when it comes to their arcs. Up until volume 8, Nora has been Ren’s helper. Volume 4 is really Ren’s arc with Nora supporting and helping him. In volume 7, we see Nora working hard for their relationship, while Ren puts distance between them. Finally, volume 8 has them struggling separately. In this volume, we probably see Ren finishing his personal arc (or a major part of it) and Nora starting her own. I am expecting Nora’s arc to reach its conclusion in Vacuo with Ren as the helper this time around.
Still, what is Renora’s arc role in the narrative? As for now, I think their struggles have offered a commentary to some major themes.
In volume 4, Ren’s arc ties into the theme of the arc of knowledge. You should not let your fear or anger stop you from doing what is right. He overcomes the fear that paralyzes him (Raven and Leo) and the anger that blinds him (Jaune).
Volume 7/8 is instead Ren exploring the theme linked to the arc of creation. You should embrace your feelings even if they are hard and make you feel vulnerable.
So, what about Nora?
Nora’s journey in volume 8 explores this motif:
Blake: When you’ve been at someone’s side for so long, after a while they become a part of you. But that’s just it, they’re only a part of you. Don’t forget about the rest.
Penny: But there is a part of me... It's making me...
Nora: It's just a part of you. Don't forget about the rest.
Penny: I won’t be gone, I’ll be part of you.
It is the idea that people are complex, made of several parts. In order to be yourself you must accept all your parts, but without letting one of them define yourself. Similarly, to have healthy relationships you should aknowledge that others have also different sides and you might not like all of them or agree with all their choices. Still, this does not make loved ones less loved:
Vine: Then perhaps Clover was wrong too.
Harriet: Don’t you dare! Clover was… He was…
Vine: …Important to you.
As for now, the “it is a part of you” motif has been used to explore different concepts: grief, relationships, trauma.
Each one of these themes are explored through the same motif. The conclusion is the same.
-The people you lose will stay with you forever, but you should not let yourself be defined by grief (Harriet and Qrow’s arcs, Penny’s death).
-Trauma and abuse are not something that can be cancelled, but you do not have to let it define you (Penny’s virus, Yang’s arm).
- Loved ones are a part of you, but they are not you. They are people you choose to stay with because you want to, not because you need to.
So, in volume 8 Nora’s story ties into this specific concept and it comments Penny’s arc. This fits because deep down both Penny and Nora’s arcs are about identity... Who is Nora? Who is Penny? Are they worth something just as themselves? Penny has finished her arc, while Nora’s arc needs to be finalized.
We do not know what her story will be about. As for now, I think it will thematically comment the main story and will tie in one of the themes of the Vacuo arc. I also wonder if we are going to discover more about her past:
Nora: Oh, got shocked by lighting, didn't die. Crazy Thursday!
Personally, this phrase has always sounded suspicious to me :’’’) so I wonder what the story behind it is. Considering the strong connection she has with Ren, I would not be surprised if Nora managed to activate her semblance in order to protect him, just like Ren did with her. Alternatively, we may discover more of Nora’s past before meeting Ren and her ability to turn electricity into strength might be related to turn trauma and pain into a resource. This is a motif shared by many characters, Yang (positive), Cinder and Mercury (negative), for example.
Anyway, I am curious about the thunder symbolism, specifically in relation to her lightening heart symbol. As for now, I can see two meanings to it.
a) A symbol of a heart hurt by trauma (thunder).
b) A symbol of Nora being thunderstruck as if in she having fallen in love with Ren.
Both meaning may apply given what we know about Nora (and both could be true). Surely, thunder is probably going to be important for her character :’’’) given it is a huge motif for her and something even present in her emblem. Nora’s emblem is basically a combination of her weapon and her semblance. Still, we know where her weapon comes from (Ren), so I wonder if we will know more about the thunder motif. Does it tie with her feelings for Ren (thunderstruck) or with her family (Valkyrie)? Or maybe with both?
What’s sure is that the meaning behind it is clear:
Ren: You put everything you have into what you do. You support everyone around you, you help without worrying about how it might hurt.
Nora would do anything in her power to help others, even if it means hurting herself in the process.
Thank you for your ask!
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MAGIC SHOP | JJK (FINAL CHAPTER)
Description: You and Jungkook were best friends who were in love with each other. What would happen when Soojin, your half sister who you’re trying to impress, told you she’s in love with Jungkook too?
Alternatively:
“Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?”
Pairing: Architect!Jungkook x Architect!Reader
Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, family drama, angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, pining, slice of life au.
Warnings: none except kissing (There’s so much reconciliation happening in this chapter, lol)
Chapter’s OST: Magic Shop by 방탄소년단 (See English lyrics here)
Word Count: 3.9k
Series: CHAPTER 14 | CHAPTER 01
"I can't believe you got married," the smile you rendered to your brother was soft as you helped him fix his bow tie.
Taehyung hated bow ties, but he knew he had to endure wearing one today. It's his wedding day after all. Besides, ditching the said tie would definitely sadden his husband. It's something Taehyung couldn't afford to make the love of his life feel, mainly because Yoongi seemed very excited when he told Taehyung he designed their wedding outfits himself.
"I got married and I'm doing it all over again." Taehyung grinned back at you.
It's refreshing to see his boxy smile after many months of awkward eye contacts and tightlipped smiles.
Taehyung avoided you for a long time because he was embarrassed. He wasn't an idiot. He knew there's a part of you that blamed him for not being able to see your father for the last time. If he had only gone with you to Seoul, you'd probably be given a chance to say your goodbyes to Taemin, but alas, those days were over.
You just hoped your father was in a good place now. He deserved it even though he'd be shitty to you. You realized you didn't want to hold grudges any longer.
You hated the idea of spending your days filled with rage and pain. No. You didn't deserve it. They might not be worthy of your forgiveness, but you also didn't deserve to feel the heaviness in your chest just by thinking about them. Besides, those who hurt you and the people around you were already paying for their wrongdoings.
Namjoon and Hoseok often called to tell you what's happening in Seoul since you're already back here in New York. Apparently, there's already a verdict in Soojin's case. Your sister was deemed guilty for almost all criminal and civil cases she was facing. You also came to know that Sin-ae was pressed with charges for helping her daughter hide and destroy evidence in a crime. She wasn't incarcerated though. Sin-ae simply paid a fine of a few thousands of dollars.
Needless to say, her family's reputation was ruined. She sacrificed a lot of things just to maintain a good public image. She even went as far as tolerating you instead of going to court to sue her husband and your mother for concubinage. But in the end, she still lost.
She couldn't face the public with pride and joy anymore. Hoseok was the one who told you about this heartbreaking news. Namjoon didn't have the courage to do it. Sure, he helped your eldest brother, however it didn't mean he's guilt-free. There were times when he felt like he betrayed his own family, mainly because Sin-ae expressed her hatred towards him.
You suspected that the only reason why Namjoon called you and Taehyung was because he was afraid he's losing his mind. You and Taehyung were his only reminder that he did what's right. You wished Namjoon would learn to live with the decision he made too.
"Ah, I'm happy you didn't forget to invite me this time." You poked your brother's stomach as a response to his smug claim that he's getting married to the love of his life for the second time.
Yes, second time. Taehyung and Yoongi's family and friends demanded that they get married again. It's unfair that you all didn't get to attend the first time they did it.
"It's a spur-of-the-moment decision!" Your brother and his husband would argue every time you teased them about forgetting to inform you about this big decision.
Truthfully, you didn't really mind that they got married behind your back. What worried you was that you felt like your brother only agreed to marry Yoongi because he was lonely and grieving.
You see, it hadn't been a while since your father died. If you remembered it correctly, you only stayed in Seoul for three months after his death. The day you went back to New York was also the day you had learned your brother was married to Yoongi for almost a week already.
No one knew, not even Jimin. Your roommate rarely saw them after you went back to Seoul. He wanted to give Taehyung space, especially because Jimin was aware that your brother's way of coping up with pain was by pretending like the problem didn't exist at all. This was why he chose to go to New York after telling his family about his sexuality. He pretended like he didn't care about what they thought and that he was better off on his own, but deep inside, he was afraid too. He was scared to fuck up again, scared to push people because he might lose them in an instant. You guessed this was why he married your best friend. Maybe he was afraid he'd end up taking him for granted. After all, Yoongi had sacrificed many things in order to be with him.
But you didn't doubt Taehyung's feelings anymore. He wouldn't agree to marry Yoongi for the second time if he didn't love him, right? Besides, your brother willingly chose to move in with Yoongi even before they got married.
It was lonely to stay in your shared apartment with Jimin. He missed and felt sorry for you. It didn't help that your roommate kept calling you, reminding Taehyung of the mess at home that he chose to ignore.
Anyway, moving in with Yoongi was for the best. At least Taehyung wouldn't feel bad for disturbing you and Jimin anymore. He knew there were times your roommate just wanted to chill and watch movies in the living room, but he couldn't because Taehyung was sleeping on the couch.
Unfortunately there's a new person invading your apartment.
"Are you two ready?" Jungkook, the same person who was staying with you and Jimin for two days now, barged inside the dressing room, disturbing your little moment with Taehyung. "The guests are waiting and your husband is sweating so much. I think he just wants to kiss you and get this over with, Taehyungie-hyung."
Jungkook had an innocent look on his face that you didn't even realize that he's saying what he wanted to do with you right now: kiss you and bring you back to Seoul with him.
Two days ago was the first time he saw you in person after you left Seoul eight months ago. If Taehyung and Yoongi didn't invite him to the wedding, Jungkook wasn't sure what excuse to make to see you again.
Talking to you through the screen of his phone wasn't enough. He craved to be with you. It's unfair that Jimin, your other suitor, got to spend time with you while he was stuck in Seoul, thousands of miles away from you.
But little did Jungkook know, he had the advantage here. He's the one you loved, not Jimin. Your roommate accepted it already. He kept telling you it's okay, that you didn't owe him anything. Jimin knew from the very start that you only saw him as a friend. You also assured him there was someone out there who could return his feelings.
In fact, you felt like he had met her already. Chou Tzuyu, the pretty girl next door. He was Jimin's date today.
"Really?" Taehyung snorted but he was smug when he said, "but we literally just fucked two hours ago—"
"Please stop. I don't need to hear this." You pouted. Jungkook chuckled as he stepped closer to you, he was still keeping a fair distance though.
"And here I am, only allowed to see the girl I love on special occasions."
"Bloody hell. Are you two still playing this game?" Taehyung grunted, looking at you and Jungkook in disbelief. "Can't you just kiss and be together already?"
Heat travelled to your face upon hearing your brother’s complaint. Jungkook chuckled again.
"Don't look at me. I'm trying here..." He was. He always tried to win you over.
You're just stubborn.
"Enough about us. This is your day, oppa." With this, you and Jungkook both escorted your brother out of the dressing room.
Hoseok and Namjoon would be the one to walk Taehyung down the aisle. Sin-ae didn’t want to attend, she said she’d rather visit Soojin in jail. As for Seokjin, well, he also wanted to walk his brother down the aisle, but Yoongi asked him to officiate their wedding instead.
Seokjin and Yoongi were already waiting at the altar. The theme of this event was a garden wedding. You were in awe as you watched the couple exchange vows while surrounded by pretty flowers and colorful butterflies.
You're glad they're doing this. Taehyung and his husband first got married in Vegas. It was rushed and not as heartwarming as this one. At least today they got to see that their family and friends were very proud of them. In fact, Seokjin made the couple cry when he abruptly stopped his brother from putting a ring on Yoongi's finger.
Seokjin brought out a ring box. You all gasped when he opened it, revealing the traditional wedding ring of the Kims. It was passed to the eldest child every generation. It meant a lot to Taehyung that Seokjin was doing this, however your brother said it's not his decision alone.
Before Taemin died, he told Seokjin to hand the ring to Taehyung. It's baffling, considering the fact that Taemin spent years hating his son just because he was gay.
Seokjin didn't say but Taemin made this decision the day before the accident occurred. It's like their father knew he was going to die and that he wanted to apologize to Taehyung for not treating him right.
Taemin also instructed Seokjin to give you a certain box but your brother figured it's best to hand it to you after the wedding. The box contained the set of Farnsworth House LEGO Architecture—Jungkook's gift to you during your sixteenth birthday.
You remembered the time when you and your sister were fighting over it, with Soojin insisting that the gift belonged to her. Taemin confiscated it, saying that if you two couldn't share, then no one could have it.
You didn't mind sharing, just like how you didn't mind seeing Yoongi and Taehyung share a passionate kiss.
Your heart hurt but in a good way. It's remarkable to see the two people you loved find their way to each other's arms.
The ceremony ended with a round of applause and with Jungkook hugging and kissing your temple as he whispered how much he loved you.
The reception of the wedding was also in the same garden where the ceremony was held. The sun had set and now fairy lights illuminated the place.
It's romantic. You saw Jimin and Tzuyu dancing a few feet away from where you're standing. Your roommate's hands were wrapped around his date's waist. Jungkook was holding you like that too, or maybe your and Jungkook's position was more intimate. Your forehead was pressed against his. You could feel him nuzzling your cheek.
"Miss you, Tiger..." Your best friend murmured, lips trailing your cheek down to the side of your mouth.
You tightened your embrace to him as you admitted, "I miss you too, Kook." Because you did. More than so much. Seeing him now made you feel like you could finally breathe.
You didn't know how you survived the past months without him by your side.
"You do?" Jungkook hummed, his voice was innocent and full of hope as he continued asking you a question. "Will you come home with me, then?"
"I have work here, Kook.."
"So quit and accept my proposal." He grumbled and kissed the side of your mouth once more, hoping that it's enough to coax you.
Jungkook built his own architectural firm. He proposed to you, saying that he wanted to run the company with you. A professional partnership. You two were competent enough to do this.
His proposal was lame though. You told him he needed to make a concrete business plan to convince you to accept the job. So far, all his proposals didn't spark excitement.
"Please, baby, I can't spend one more day away from you." He was begging, big doe eyes and all. "Just give me more time and I'll perfect that business plan."
You threw your head back and laughed. You actually laughed because he was adorable and because you were insanely in love with him too.
"You have a month, Architect Jeon." You said, finally relenting.
"Yes!" Jungkook briefly let go of you to punch the air. He was so excited you could literally see his body shaking.
"I only need two more weeks, baby..."
You did it.
You really quit your job and went back to Seoul with Jungkook. Admittedly, you were thrilled but at the same time, you were scared to death.
You were officially jobless now. You knew Hoseok wouldn't hesitate to hire you but you didn't want to live your life like that. You helped him break the chain when your father died. You couldn't create another one.
Apart from this, you trusted Jungkook. He said he needed fourteen days to show you that his firm was viable. You had no doubt about this, but as a future partner, you should learn how to practice professional skepticism.
"Is the blindfold really necessary?" You groaned at Jungkook, already pissed because he disturbed your peaceful morning at your eldest brother's place.
You were staying at Hoseok's apartment again. It's difficult to find a place of your own. If you were to become Jungkook's partner at the firm, then you would need to find a home near the office building.
Jungkook's architectural firm was situated on the fourth floor of Queens Building. Architect Jeon decided to rent a space first because his business was just starting. He started operating ten months ago. Perhaps he could buy a piece of land if you chose to form a professional partnership with him.
"It is. I told you this will determine my future with you." Jungkook said as he guided you.
Today was the day he'd present his business plan. He said it took him more than eight months to finish the proposal. However you weren't sure if this was still a proposal because your jaw dropped the moment he removed your blindfold.
This wasn't a proposal.
Architect Jeon Jungkook literally built a shop for you.
"Welcome to Magic Shop, Tiger." Jungkook's grin was big as he beckoned you to enter the place.
You remained rooted in your spot though, still in awe. The facade of this shop was aesthetically pleasing. On the left side of the wooden door was a pot of red flowers. A display of books on the other hand, could be seen on the right side of the door.
You could also hear a pleasing melody as you roamed your eyes around the place. You realized the music was coming from the inside of the shop.
I know that you're hesitating because even if you say the truth in the end it will all return as scars
"Come on, Tiger..." Jungkook held your hand. He could feel fear radiating from you.
You were probably afraid to discover what he prepared for you.
I'm not going to say anything blatant like "find strength"
"Okay..." You sucked in a deep breath as you gripped his hand. Jungkook led you inside the shop.
The inside was better than what you saw outside. There were no other people here aside from you and him.
You let go of Jungkook's hand since you were excited to check out the whole place. Jungkook let you be, allowing you to explore what he built just to make you stay.
Jungkook watched as you picked up a book, flipping through the pages like you were interested to see what's written there.
But that's the thing.
There's nothing written there. The books had blank pages.
I will let you hear my story, let you hear it
The lyrics of the song demonstrated the very purpose of these books. Jungkook explained that people could come and go to this place, especially if they felt like the outside world was too much, like it was suffocating them.
What did I say?
They could grab a book and write down their stories.
I said you'd win, didn't I?
They could let out their emotions through writing. It didn't matter if they'd only share their worries because someday, Jungkook knew these people would come back.
I couldn't believe it (really)
They would come back and reread their entries, and then they'd realize that they made it.
Could I win it?
That they really won.
This miracle that isn't a miracle
They'd think it's a miracle, but really, it's on them. They worked hard, they didn't give up, and they pulled themselves from a very dark place.
Did we make it?
Just like what you did.
(No) I was here
Just like what your mother and the rest of her circle in the CA meeting did.
You wrote a single entry in the book before returning it to the shelf.
You were the one that made your way to me
Entry: I’m scared because I quit my job without thinking. No, wait. I did think. I thought about the person I love. He wants to be with me. I do too. He promised he'd stay with me.
I do believe your galaxy
And you believed him. You believed his galaxy, that it's going to shine bright and guide you.
I want to listen to your melody
Jungkook's way of saying that he was here for you was through murmuring I love you. This was his melody.
Your stars in the Milky Way
His doe eyes lit this world full of despair.
Don't forget that I found you anyways
Jungkook found you when you're suffering alone.
At the end of my despair
He didn't stop supporting you even when you pushed him away, even if you told him you didn't want him to fix you.
You're the last reason for me who was standing at the edge of the cliff
He would never let you jump off a cliff. He would stay there and inspire you to
Live
On days I hate being myself, days I want to disappear forever
But Jungkook learned his lesson. He understood what you meant when you said you didn't want to be fixed.
Let's make a door in your heart
So he literally made a door instead.
Open the door and this place will await. It's okay to believe, the Magic Shop will comfort you
A door that would lead you to a place where you could find comfort, a place where you wouldn't be forced to share and solve your problems at once.
You could just chill and take a break here.
While drinking a glass of hot tea
You went to the second floor of the Magic Shop, there's a corner where you could drink different kinds of tea. There were tables and chairs if ever you preferred to talk to someone and share to them your problems. This corner was for extroverts and those who felt comfortable talking to others.
And looking up at the Milky Way
There were bean bags as well. You could drink tea here alone while looking up at the sky shining with stars.
You'll be alright, oh, this here is the Magic Shop
"You'll be alright here, Tiger." Jungkook was standing behind you. He gave you a back-hug while you both enjoyed the fresh air in the veranda.
So show me (I'll show you)
"I built this place for you, baby. I won't force you to tell me things anymore..."
So show me (I'll show you)
"I won't try to solve your problem if you don't want me to..." He kissed your nape.
So show me (I'll show you)
"I won't try to fix you..."
Show you show you
"Because you're not a thing. You're a person who needs to feel and to heal."
Like a rose when blooming, like cherry blossoms when being scattered in the wind
You were going to bloom and stop hurting at your own pace and way. He would encourage you to spread your wings and fly, enjoying the wind.
My greed that was my weapon suffocated me and also became a leash,
"Thank you, Kook..." You turned to face him. Your eyes glistened with tears of joy.
You couldn't believe he still remembered what you said to him two years ago, the thing where you didn't want him to fix you.
You're also glad he understood what you meant. Jungkook understood the type of love you needed, but days ago, you asked him when he realized he loved you.
but looking back on it now, truthfully I feel like it's not true that I wanted to be the best
Jungkook said you had to wait for a few more days to know the answer. Today, you came to know his reason.
I wanted to become your comfort and move your heart. I want to take away your sadness, and pain
"I was a very selfish person before I met you. I used to believe that what's mine is mine, and what's yours is mine too."
You laughed at that. It sounded like little Jungkook. If Jong-in was alive, he'd probably nod his head in agreement.
"But just by looking at you makes me want to give you everything already, you know?"
Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?
"That's what love is for me. To offer you everything, but I learned what truly matters. I don't have to sacrifice and break myself for love. All I want now is to simply be your comfort, the shoulder you can use to lean on. That's the love I want to receive too."
Jungkook was saying the time you two spent away from each other made him realize what he wanted too. He tried to put himself in your shoes, making him realize that he wouldn't want you to take the blame and do everything for him.
He just needed you to stay with him while he fixed himself. He knew now that this was what you desired as well.
"So to answer your question why I love you. Well, it's because—" He swallowed hard as he stared deep in your soul. "You gave me the best of me."
He learned not to be selfish but also to not offer his one hundred percent to someone, that he should still leave some love for himself too.
"And I know you'll give you the best of you too." Was the major realization he came to know as to why you didn't need to be fixed.
You'd do it yourself. You'll find it, the galaxy inside you at some point.
"I love you, Tiger..."
You pulled Jungkook closer and then you caressed his cheeks.
Your eyes twinkled as you responded, "I love you too, Kook," and then you kissed him.
Jungkook melted, the worry engulfing him evaporated. He wasn't scared anymore because the kiss you shared made him know an unspoken communication between the two of you. It went like this:
"So show me..."
"I'll show you..."
- END -
BONUS: LETTER WRITTEN BY KIM TAEMIN FOR OC
Thank you guys so much for reading this fic. <333 I love you all!
Please stay tuned for a new JJK fic!
Preview of BST: Jeon Jungkook was the very definition of that fictional fawn named Bambi: brown doe eyes, innocent, and a prey—something you hated about him. He was so weak. Seriously. The boy needed to grow a spine, luckily you had an idea to do just that.
The plan was to send him on a mission where he would be forced to defend himself, but surprise, surprise. Jungkook fucked up, causing him to become the complete opposite of Bambi: red eyes, corrupted mind, and a...predator.
Jungkook was a vampire and he might just bite you.
Alternatively:
“My blood, sweat, and tears. This is a spell that will punish me.”
#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x you#jungkook x oc#jungkook x yn#jungkook best friend#jungkook best friends to lovers#best friend jungkook#jungkook fic#jungkook romance#bts jungkook#bts jeon jungkook#armywriterssupport
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c// fem!reader, sex worker hongjoong, detective reader, mentions of murder and crime, bratty hongjoong, joong small cock <3, humiliation kink, oral (f receiving), degradation (use of slut), dumbification, yay for protected sex
you weren’t at all fond of the dingy, dim hotel you found yourself in front of - it smelled of damp decay, and had only one flickering light in front of the entrance. nonetheless, it was essential to be here for the case.
you never enjoyed working homicides, having to look into the depraved faces of killers as they more often than not showed no remorse. with a sigh and a silent prayer, you walk into the motel.
when you show him your badge, the person working the register wordlessly handed you a key with “room 117″ messily scribbled onto it. the climb up four flights of stairs isn’t fun, but finally you unlock the door hastily, wanting to get this over and done with.
as expected, there on the bed is a rather stunning young man. he has sharp yet youthful features, heavy makeup and is only wearing a robe. it’s obvious he has nothing on underneath it. you don’t miss the “do me” eyes that cross his eyes when you enter the room - it’s all an act, you think.
“you can put the money on the table.” he says after a short silence.
“100 for the hour?” he nods. you rummage around your pocket, putting said amount on the table next to you. if you landed a conviction, you’d be getting the money back anyway.
“you can keep your robe on.” you say, getting seated on the bed a safe distance away from him.
a smirk crosses his face. “oh, you want to play with me a little bit first?” his voice changes drastically - it’s more seductive.
you shake your head. “that’s not why i’m here. last night a man was killed, and if my sources are correct, you’re the last person he saw.”
the man pauses, looking at you as though waiting for you to continue.
“i need to you to tell me everything that happened last night.” you state.
he pauses again. “alright.”
“your full name, please?”
“kim hongjoong.”
“okay hongjoong, so what happened when you met up with mr lee last night?”
hongjoong sighs. “well he paid for three hours. he was married, so he paid me extra to stay quiet about it. he was actually really good at sex, he had me in at least five different positions and his cock was massi-”
“relevant details only, please.” you shudder.
hongjoong rolls his eyes. “anyway, he told me he had somewhere to be after, so he wanted to relieve some stress before he went.” you jot down the important detail.
“did he tell you where?”
“he said it was an important meeting at a club down the street.”
you nod. “thank you, hongjoong. we’ll be in contact if we need anything else.”
you start to get up, but he clears his throat. “you paid for the full hour. why don’t you use up the time instead of wasting your money?”
you raise an eyebrow. naturally you assumed that he would want to keep the hour for himself.
“i haven’t had any clients today so i’m feeling a little... pent up.” he continues. “and you look like you could use some stress relief.”
it catches you off guard. you curse yourself for thinking about it - he was right, you did technically have the next hour to do whatever you wanted until you had to get back.
without a word, you begin to unbutton your button up shirt.
“this is strictly casework, got it?” he nods, grinning like a child who just got a jar of candy.
“i’ll make it well worth your time, detective”. he whispers into your ear before nipping on it, catching you off guard.
you weren’t fond of his cocky attitude - it spurred a desire within you to put him in his place.
“off.” you say, pulling at the fabric holding his robe together. he obeys, revealing the expanse of his tan skin, taking notice of every little mole, every little birthmark, every small scar that decorates his skin. but of course, what catches your attention is his hard cock, smaller than average and flushed pink at the tip.
“is this supposed to make me feel good?” you ask, wrapping a hand around the short length. to your amusement, your hand comes up more than is necessary when you jerk him off. it only adds to the humiliation.
“don’t judge before you try it, sweetheart.” he says, not affected by the snide comment at all. “besides, it’s not the only thing i can use to make you feel good.”
at this point you’re only stripped of your shirt, while hongjoong is stark naked. although he lets out pleasured moans, he pulls your hand off his cock and implores you to lay down. he scooches down on the bed, laying down on his tummy and to your surprise, hooks his hands around your panties underneath your pencil skirt. you gasp in surprise, feeling exposed now that he could see your wet pussy.
“hm, you’re a lot of talk for someone who’s already so wet for me.” he giggles. as though to accentuate his point, he runs a finger up your folds and brings it up to his lips.
“oh, you taste divine.” he whispers. “you’ll let me be greedy, right?”
with that, he pulls your skirt up your thighs and wastes no time in licking a stripe up your core, earning a loud moan. his lips suction around your clit, his tongue peeking out to repeatedly stimulate the bud. a finger comes up to tease your entrance.
“f-fuck, hongjoong-” you cry out, already feeling close to your high. “s-stop or i’ll-”
he takes mercy on you, pulling off when your legs start to shake around his head.
“i should have gotten you to sit on my face, you have the sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted.” he says. you roll your eyes, thinking he must say that to every single person he eats out.
looking at the ticking clock on the wall, you look him straight in the eye. “you have thirty minutes to fuck me until i forget my own name.”
it clearly affects him, because he gulps and nods. he rummages around the bedside table, pulling out a box of condoms and shaking the box until one falls out - clearly the last one in the box. he wastes no time in quickly putting it on before lining himself up with your entrance.
“any day now would be good.” you say angrily. it doesn’t slip your notice that he pushes into your core with more force than necessary.
“fuck, such a tight pussy. no one’s fucked you properly in a while, huh?” he growls into your ear. he’s right - you shouldn’t have judged him, because his cock still manages to fill you up perfectly. it only gets better when his hand meets your clit, and he immediately sets an aggressive pace, ramming into you and perfectly hitting your g-spot with the way his cock curves into it.
“holy shit, fuck joong!” a garbled mess of curses and hongjoong’s name is the only thing you can manage to get out as he only speeds up, letting out pretty, low moans of his own and speaking nothing but pure filth into you ear.
“gosh, you’re such a slut aren’t you? needing a good fuck while you’re on the job?” in your fucked out state of mind, you don’t bother to remember the fact that he was the one who asked for sex. instead you just blindly nod, agreeing with everything he says.
“oh, look at you going all dumb for me. are you gonna cum, my dumb little detective?” you nod again, your moans only getting higher the closer you get to your orgasm.
“i-i’m-” it’s the only warning he gets when your pussy spasms around him, your hips grinding against his harsh pace as you reach your high. it’s enough to spur his orgasm as well, a groan leaving his lips as he empties into the condom.
you both take a minute to catch your breaths before he pulls out, taking off the condom, tying it and throwing it in the bin.
“so, do you feel any better?” he asks when you come back from using the bathroom.
“much better.” you smile, getting dressed and making your way to the door. “thanks, hongjoong.”
“hey.” he speaks up. “take the money back.”
you turn to face him, and shake your head. “think of it as a generous tip.”
a cute pout graces his lips. “i usually have to fake my moans and pretend to enjoy it, but you were really something else.” he says.
“in that case, we can meet up again to compensate.” you say with a smile, which he returns.
“i’d like that.” he replies. “i’ll see you around then, y/n.” and with that you leave, weak in the knees and your head filled with thoughts of the pretty blonde boy.
tag list:
@seongsangsgf @mingi-ivity @shinyddeonghwa @galaxteez @bobateastay @ddeonghwva @spacepiratehongjoong @multidreams-and-desires @a-soft-hornytiny @serialee @yunhospuppy
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Ive only followed u for a little while so apologies if u've already said this but do u have any opinions on gerry and goth culture etc, like how it ties into their narrative? And do u have any goth bands u like or that u think gerry would listen to
For me i feel a little weird when people put gerry with emo stuff / dont know that goth is a music based subculture, that might come from growing up around goth elitists though haha
i MIGHT have mentioned it somewhere but i honestly also forget so let’s just speedrun it again aaaand this is not a speedrun oh no okay.
my general philosophy with gerry + subcultures is based in the fact that the only Anything that got a name put to it in canon was his mastodon t-shirt in 2002? lots of music gets called “death metal” when you don’t listen to it (or are, for example, perpetually falling and have no idea where you are and are also a theater nerd who probably doesn’t give a rip about that distinction anyway) and i have a hard time buying that leitner could properly identify someone’s specific subculture just based on their style. everybody who wears a lot of black is An Goth to old people who don’t know what any of the words mean.
so while i definitely do think goth obviously does work for his style and taste, i personally write him with a hefty serving of punk in there too, and music wise there are any number of possibilities. aster said once “for all we know he could be a metalhead,” and i think there’s some truth to that!
most of the times gerry has been described by other people, they’ve missed, assumed, or subtly misidentified something about him! it’s actually an interesting part of his character i really like a lot, because it gives some extra weight to the person he’s revealed to be when we finally get to hear him speak.
there’s a lot of room for interpretation basically is all i’m saying! and i’ve seen some really cool takes on it that i don’t really go with myself (there are just so MANY), but i see where they came from.
i personally don’t, like. go with the heavy goth makeup for him or have his clothes get very complicated because it feels like he doesn’t really have the time for that. for my gerry, punk is more where it’s at (DIY jackets and stuff, uses lace code on his boots, etc) but he does wear Almost Exclusively Black while doing it, sure. to each their own! not saying my way’s the only way or anything.
but i DO 100% agree with you that the emo music does not feel right dkfjhdj. please.
hard NO on the MCR, the joke is tired and i'm tired. aster said wisely, “he’s not a fan, it’s just something people play around him he nods his head to” and i agree Yep. he probably is like that about a Few of the bands that people throw on him here. not a bad sound! but he doesn’t know the song names or give a shit about the band, and he’s not going to remember to google it.
the guy was born in the ‘80s he’s got like. a little different of a music pool to splash around in than some of us really pay any attention to. it’s not bad music i just really don’t see him getting into the stuff that’s more well known around (american) teenagers-20somethings TODAY when he’d have found the stuff he liked way beforehand and fell down whatever pipelines came from it through that.
i think “if it hurts your head he probably loves it”, but also i think the general tone of it matters to him y’know like i don’t think he wants the sad dreary stuff ALL the time! i think he wants passion and Refusal and fight and the sometimes-paradoxical brightness you CAN find in the lyrics of some of the harsher sounding stuff. lover of contradiction. lover of also just annoying the shit out of people around him who he thinks won’t want to bother to understand. whatever music he likes into his 30s, i don’t think it’d be the sort that puts a romance to suffering.
venting is all well and good and surely something he’s done but i think if i were going to make his music such a big baseline for how he kept himself together all this time, kept his identity in check and gave him something to get excited about (“i’ll try to stick it out until X month next year because that’s when Y band is gonna release a new album and i want to hear it” — that stuff can actually save your fucking life sometimes, y’know?) then i would personally lean more towards something with more hope in it. hope and fire.
a more narratively impacting HC i have is that whether he chooses to hunt it down or not, he IS aware of and knows the words to a lot of mainstream pop shit among other maybe-unexpected things just because he travels so much and surely spent time in places that had their own music playing and you can’t always have headphones on when you go places. he has a wide array of useless knowledge and trivia and lyrics on hand just by pure osmosis.
i think Boredom, Curiosity, and Spite drive a lot of his littler habits and hobbies because my g-d what else is he doing. hanging out with friends? aha. ahahaaha. aaah ,,, :-I
(my) gerry likes all sorts of random ass international bands, too, because he’d have more exposure to THAT stuff, too, and also a reason to do some research just for fun. van canto is a german a capella metal band what the fuck that’s so cool. harmaja is also good, they’re finnish. i think if you put some SKÁLD on in front of him he WILL be choreographing a dramatic music video as he walks down the street to it. like, no, he’s not gonna download them but if he fell into a youtube autoplay rabbit hole while he got distracted with something else you know he would have like a solid weekend of being super into “some random french folk group that based their whole schtick on norse mythology.” he would totally have obscure kicks like that every now and then even if he has something more stable to return to for comfort later!
he’d also just be fine listening to some rock bands when they’re just On, etc, and there's probably stuff outside of A Set Genre he DOES enjoy because human beings aren’t just one-dimensional “i only like this specific thing always forever and everything else sucks” and i think he’s spoken enough in canon about his adherence to the notion that Everything Has A Grey Area that he’s not too pressed about it. he’s got his niche, totally! but he’s not completely boxing himself in, either. i think he probably has had Enough of feeling isolated and only exposed to one perspective that he actively seeks other experiences and tries to see what other people love about things he’s not immediately familiar with!
movies and television, too, for similar reasons! for something to DO when he's stuck in a hotel room or to have on as background noise when he’s restless, even if it strays out of favored genres. just. watch whatever’s on, or whatever he hasn’t seen before. he can scroll IMDB in his own brain, can recognize actors from the most obscure single appearances on a show with 20 seasons that he half-watched 4 years ago. ridiculous. hilarious.
in general that’s how i have him consume media BEYOND whatever music he uses to keep a tighter grasp on his identity, but i haven’t gotten too specific with artists and bands in anything i've published yet because it just hasn’t come up! the only band i've referenced by name in something i’d written before WAS the mastodon (i have a lot of feelings about how his attachment to the lifesblood EP in particular), but i tend to play it safe and use that as like a Starting Point if that makes sense?
other suggestions from my group chat were joy division, and like. as far as “off brand” bands go, he might like the killers well enough. i do think he'd like against me! because. punk rock, yeah, and also laura jane grace herself is just. somebody i think he’d really enjoy, from the perspective of also coming out as Gender later in life. she’s so cool,,,
i could see symphonic metal being enjoyable to him. within temptation is so strange but he’d vibe with it, especially since they were popular overseas first. the Drama of it all. apocalyptica is fun, so is sonata arctica. probably enjoys seether in the same way of like “digging it when it’s on, never bought an album himself, but DOES remember where he was the first time he heard Broken.” he knows the local scene in sweden. why is he singing along perfectly to this german song he doesn’t even speak german.
also because it happened to come up in the GC i’m also gonna paste this here but it was generally agreed upon, too, that like. with his “music taste and Fashion taste not necessarily being the same umbrella i feel like he’d love the aesthetics of glam rock and hairspray punk even though it wasn’t his favorite musically.” and he’d probably really love drawing people he's encountered with those aesthetics. i think he’s just appreciative of a lot of stuff out there even if it's not the CD he's gonna pop in to try and sleep to.
TL;DR - j summed it up pretty well just now with “i think gerry is a combo of ‘knows bands you’ve never heard of’ and ‘has never learned the name of the very popular universally known band you’re telling him about even if he recognizes the song.’ he likes the american idiot album but could not summon the name Green Day if you put a gun to his head.” and i just think that’s beautiful.
aster just said the best thing, too, about how i said he tries to branch out on purpose: “it may be your first week in this country and maybe you dont speak the language but that cool girl with the leather jacket bought you an iced tea so all is right with the world. like it doesnt make ppl more likely to help him or anything but it makes very specific people more likely to i guess? sense of community even in transit”
and j responded: “i think that fits well on the fact that punk and its adjacents are so community focused, so if anyone was going to give him experiences like that, being alone and having a stranger stand up for you in some little way before you both move on, it would probably be the alts around the world. just like his genres are all over the place, he wouldn’t probably call himself goth but the attraction to alt and it’s media was basically nurture for him so he was always gonna land there”
that’s the shit it comes down to!!!! matters way more to him than being an elitist about specific artists, i think.
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Bookends
(This story was originally written for and published in the DeanCas Anthology back in 2018. )
Word Count: 2223 Rating: General ao3 link
Cas pulls as close to the door as he can, checking the rearview mirror to make sure he isn’t blocking traffic as he waits for Dean to get out of the car. Before heading inside, Dean ducks his head back in to smile at him. “I’ll get us some coffee.”
Instead of driving away, Cas stays there, watching until Dean pulls open the diner door. Leaning heavily on his cane, he shuffles more than walks, his bow-legged gait made stiff by the arthritis that wracks his joints. Cas waits until he’s safely inside, then pulls past the open handicapped space Dean stubbornly refuses to use, and finds an empty parking spot.
Cas’s car is boxy and utilitarian, and Dean often proclaims that he wouldn’t be caught dead behind the wheel of something so ugly. Cas plays along because giving up driving had been Dean’s toughest concession to age, but as his vision deteriorated and his reflexes slowed, it had become an unavoidable sacrifice. With replacement parts for the Impala harder and harder to come by, Dean had finally agreed to keep her stored safely away in their garage. Cas knew it pained him to see her shrouded under a tarp, her motor idle and useless, but Dean would rather enshrine her in pristine condition than risk one more run-in with a light pole or curb.
With his ugly car parked, Cas crosses the lot to join Dean inside. While he’s aged as well, aged to the point that nobody questions the two of them together, he’s been spared many of the maladies that Dean’s combat-wrecked body has endured, and he moves with relative ease. The best they can figure is that the grace he’d had on and off over the years left his body with a certain resilience to the passage of time. Cas can’t cure Dean as he once could, can’t ease the aches or slow the aging process, but he can use his own comparatively good health and mobility to take care of him.
Inside, Cas navigates past the hostess stand to find Dean at their usual booth, chatting with their usual waitress. The two of them go to this diner religiously each Sunday morning, where the pews are scuffed burgundy vinyl booths and the altar is the breakfast buffet with the generous senior discount. As always, Dean has maneuvered himself across the bench seat to make room for Cas to sit beside him. His cane rests against the wall in easy reach, the simple carved wooden handle belying the fact that the base unscrews to reveal a bayonet-like tip. It’s never been wielded as a weapon (although Dean uses it, still sheathed, to poke at aggressive pigeons who muscle in around their favorite park bench), but that potential made it “badass” enough to overcome Dean’s resistance to using it.
To Sam’s everlasting chagrin, Dean has kept all of his hair, and it’s turned a stunning silver. The crinkles around his eyes have deepened, meeting the roadmap of lines that cross his face. His shoulders are stooped, his joints are stiff, and Cas thinks he’s never been more beautiful. After so many seemingly certain ends, so many years assuming Dean would die young and bloodied, the fact that he’s living out a full, lengthy life is an unparallelled blessing. Cas marvels at the gift of days that have unfolded into decades, granting them time he never dreamed they’d have together here on earth.
As Cas settles into the booth, he smiles and greets their waitress.
“Two for the buffet?” she confirms as she pours their coffee. Cas doesn’t even have to check to know that she’ll leave Dean’s at a little more than half-full so he can lift it without the tremor in his hands sloshing it over the brim.
They drink their coffee quietly, simply enjoying the ritual of being here. Dean peers at the laminated card that lists the specials, even though he never orders off the menu.
“Shall I?” When Dean nods, Cas gets to his feet. “Any requests?”
“You know what I like,” Dean says, leaning over to swat at Cas’s butt.
Picking up two plates from the warmer, Cas slides them along the metal counter, filling them in tandem as he traverses the buffet. Pancakes are too difficult for Dean to get on a fork, but the crisp waffles are good. Bacon he can pick up and eat, and Cas uses the tongs to place precisely two strips on his plate. If Dean wants more, he can get up and get it himself.
Dean can argue with Cas’s choices, but they’d had a hell of a scare a few years back. Cas will never forget the look on Dean’s face when their phone rang in the middle of the night, alerting them that Sam had been taken to the hospital in an ambulance. They’d rushed there themselves, Cas driving in silence, knowing that nothing short of seeing Sam with his own two eyes could reassure Dean. Thankfully, it had been a mild heart attack and, after spending a few days in the hospital, the discharge plan called for cardiac rehab and an appointment with a nutritionist. With Sam’s release imminent, Dean had relaxed enough to crow at the irony. “Don’t either of you try to tell me what to eat ever again. Mr. Organic Produce is the one lying in the hospital bed while my pork-rind-fueled ticker is going strong.”
Still pale, Sam’s brow furrowed with resignation. “I’m beginning to think you can’t die.”
Dean jabbed a finger in his direction. “You don’t get to go first. We have a deal.”
“Yes, sir.” Sam lifted the hand without the IV in a mock salute.
“That’s more like it,” Dean said. “Speaking of which, I need a snack.”
Cas helped him up and they walked to the elevator that would take them to the cafeteria. As they waited for it to arrive, Dean pulled Cas into a hug. Cas left a hand on his shoulder when they stepped apart again. “All right?”
Dean nodded, his green eyes shining with tears. “I’m glad you’re here.” Cas started to respond, to remind him that there was nowhere else he would be, but Dean cut him off. “I know you know. But I wanted to say it anyhow.”
Cas noticed a change after that. Dean was still the same stubborn mule Cas had fallen in love with, but he gradually became more willing to let Cas help. And somehow, Cas loved him even more for it. He loved seeing the slow-blossoming acceptance that came when Dean stopped seeing Cas’s help as a sign of weakness.
Now, standing in front of the steaming trays of food, Cas considers what else to add to their plates. He bypasses the cauldron of oatmeal (they eat that at home most mornings) and continues along the buffet. There’s a tremendous satisfaction in being allowed to care for this man who has done so much for so many and asked for so little in return. In fact, Dean has now embraced this new role so fully—no longer questioning what he deserves, or grudgingly accepting help, but full-on enjoyment of being doted on—that Cas has to be careful he doesn’t get lazy. There’s nothing Cas would rather do than settle Dean in front of a sunny window, snug in the recliner for Cas to wait on like a pampered cat, but he knows that sort of inactivity would do Dean’s joints and his heart no favors. So he watches Dean’s diet and insists on them taking slow walks after breakfast when his energy is highest.
Their neighborhood is a mix of young and old and everyone knows the two Mr. Winchesters who circle the block on days when the weather permits. The kids on bikes and scooters know to give them a wide berth, their parents warning them that the old men need the entire sidewalk, but they call out their hellos as they go by. They’re friendly with everyone except the woman who lives on the corner. Dean is convinced she’s a demon, but Cas suspects his distrust of her stems more from the fact that she seems immune to his charm. (Whatever the reason, he’s had to talk Dean out of chalking a devil’s trap inside her mailbox more than once.) They chat with their neighbors about the weather and the score of last night’s ballgame, and it’s so painfully normal that Cas sometimes feels his throat tighten up at the wonder of it all.
When Cas returns to their booth, Dean examines his plate. “They outta bacon?”
Cas cuts the waffle into manageable pieces and peels the wrapper from the muffin before sliding Dean’s plate over. “You know the deal.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says. “You just like to look at my ass when I get up.”
They eat in congenial silence with Dean methodically working his way around his plate, eating everything heartily, even the fruit. Sitting next to him, Cas can easily scoop up any bites that miss his mouth, plucking them from Dean’s lap or his shirt.
“You two good?” The waitress asks when she comes to refill their coffees. “Need anything?”
Dean swallows the bite of muffin he’s working on, and rests his hand on top of Cas’s. “I’ve got everything I need right here. An actual angel, this one.”
She nods agreeably. “I can almost see his halo.”
Cas has learned that an old man can say just about anything and receive an indulgent smile in return. When Dean references angels or demons or the apocalypse, people assume he’s speaking in metaphor and they’ll nod pleasantly. Sometimes he’ll do it purely for effect, telling rambling tales from their past for the sheer enjoyment of being able to speak openly. He can’t always keep the details straight, but Cas is there to remind him. Some days, though, he seems to lose where he is in time, and there’s nothing Cas can do for that. Cas has taken to keeping a watchful eye on him in the late afternoons when he likes to doze on the couch with their one-eyed black cat curled up on his chest. Cas stays close in case he wakes from his nap agitated, calling for Cas, wanting to know where Sam is. Cas helps him to sit up as the cat springs down and scurries away.
“Don’t go,” he says again and again, and Cas takes him in his arms, assuring Dean that he’s here and reminding him that Sam is safe at his own home. He holds him until Dean shakily dismisses it all as just a bad dream.
The unfairness of it overwhelms Cas, and each time he’s left filled with wrath. These final years should be spent in well-earned peace, but instead Dean seems cursed with reliving his most frightening memories, traumatized anew by old, familiar fears. If Dean’s mind is destined to slip, why can’t it be toward blissful forgetting? What Dean has endured goes beyond what any human should; to ask him to bear it again is nothing short of cruel. But it’s a torture chamber created in his own mind, and all Cas can do is sit helplessly by, doing his best to ground Dean and bring him back to the present.
Cas looks at Dean’s empty plate. “Did you want to get some more?”
“Nah.” He’s full and happy and it’s time for their walk.
The waitress arrives to clear their plates. As he does every week, Dean asks if she needs to see his ID for the senior discount. As she does every week, she pretends to consider it before leaving the check. “You boys take your time.”
“Tip her well,” Dean says, leaning in to supervise Cas as he signs the bill.
“I always do,” Cas assures him.
When they’re ready to leave, Cas stands next to the banquette, waiting for Dean to retrieve his cane and slide himself to the edge. Using a combination of the cane and Cas’s extended arm, Dean hoists himself upright, groaning a little. Cas keeps a firm hold on him until he’s steady on his feet. Dean still dresses in layers, but these days it’s because he gets chilled easily. He favors heavy knit cardigans and as long as Cas gets the zipper started for him he can tug it up or down as needed. Cas checks him for crumbs then together they walk through the other tables crowded with families. They continue by the hostess station where a woman is wiping down menus. “See you next week,” she calls as they pass.
Cas steps forward to push open the door, and stands holding it. “Watch your step,” he says as he always does, pointing toward the raised metal threshold of the doorway.
Using his cane to steady himself, Dean shuffles his way over it, then stops to lay his hand on Cas’s cheek. His knuckles are gnarled, the skin of his palm is dry and warm, and Cas feels the same flare of awe go through him as he has since the moment he first found this glorious soul in the depths of hell.
“I am the luckiest man who has ever lived,” Dean says.
Cas kisses his palm, then takes his arm to help him on his way.
#deancas#destiel#my writing#growing old together#this came well before the finale#but it feels like a fix it fic nonetheless
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In the end of it all, Monaca Towa was still a child.
To start this off, this isn't my usual Black Butler posts but ive been meaning to talk about Danganronpa for a hot minute, so please bear with me! Second, this is solely my opinion and before anyone wants to attack me please read thoroughly first. Thank you:)
(Spoiler warning for Danganronpa: Ultra Despair Girls and Danganronpa 3)
Also, before we dive in I'm going to list some trigger warnings:
Physcological abuse
Physical abuse
Manipulation
P*dophillia
Suicide attempt
Violence (?)
Childhood trauma
Please take care and read at your own risk<3
Hello there Danganronpa fandom! Today I will be talking about Monaca Towa (as stated in the title) and how people often minimize her trauma and sometimes forget the fact that shes still a child who got heavily manipulated by Junko too.
Monaca is seemingly very amiable and caring, because of her charming personality, all of the Warriors of Hope love her and try their best to keep her happy and go along with what she wants. However, it's slowly revealed that she is actually manipulative and cunning behind her friendly facade.
Monoca is a character that is cruel, manipulative, and extremly unhinged. Many of her actions cannot be excused or justified, but you can understand where she's coming from.
Monaca's Backstory:
She was born an unwanted child by both her father and her mother. Monaca's mother was supposed to take care of her but instead abandoned the child soon after her birth. Because of all her actions, Monaca saw her mother as a completely selfish and pathetic person. Monaca's father thought of giving her to an orphanage but instead took her into his family.
However, Monaca was always unwanted and everyone else felt uncomfortable around her. Every time Monaca smiled or joked, the others looked at her coldly, as if she didn't deserve to laugh. Every time she spoke, the others turned silent. His older-half brother thought of her as an alien, not part of the family.
She was also physically abused to the point that she pretended to be seriously wounded for them to stop as a result.
Monaca also attended Hope's Peak Elementary School and was part of the "trouble-makers class" along with Nagisa, Masaru, Jataro, and Kotoko.
Along with her fellow abused classmates, she planned a group suicide; however, Monaca never had any plans to commit suicide in the first place and was planning to let the others die as a prank.
The group suicide was stopped by Junko, who took the kids in and manipulated them by treating them with kindness and love.
Monaca then helped Junko mass produce Monokumas for the Tragedy by using her position as a representative of the Towa Group.
She lied to her father and the other adults in order to produce the Monokumas, telling them that she wanted to create futuristic robots that could be domestic helpers and emergency aid workers.
Due to her separation from the family and her genius, her family decided to give her leg room to do what she wanted as long as she brought in profits to the company, and didn't delve too deeply into her plans.
Things to keep in mind about Monoca's backstory:
She was emotionally and physically abused from a very young age.
She started to pretend to be paraplegic because she was finally treated with some kindness and she could have more control over people.
She convinced Nagisa, Jataro, Kotoko and Masaru to commit suicide.
Out of all the Warriros of Hope, Junko took the most intrest in Monoca due to her position, meaning that she was the one who got used and manipulated the most.
How Monoca's mindset works:
The moment she got physically abused to the point that she had to fake her injuries to make her family feel bad was the moment she learned that through sympathy from others comes power. Due to her families neglection and abuse, she started to quickly pick up on things in which benefited her yet hurt others.
She started to use manipulative tactics on her family to gain control over them. She then started implicating these tactics with the Warriors of Hope.
When Junko got into the picture, everything changed for the worst. Junko was the only person in Monaca's life who showed her affection. Even though deep down Monaca knew Junko only cared for her as a means to use her robotics genius for the Tragedy, Monaca didn't care, and happily helped out Junko with her plans if it meant being loved and appreciated in return. At the heart of it, despite all her horrific acts, that's a very child-like thing to do, right? So when Junko dies, Monaca's entire reason for living basically disappears.
AI Junko via Kurokuma may have planted the idea of a successor in her head, but in Monaca's mind it's a way to get her big sis back, and very specifically chooses to mold Komaru into becoming Junko's successor. That's for a big reason, Monaca doesn't want to become Junko, I'd say she actually just wanted her big sister back who would love and appreciate her again, and hence tried to make someone else take on that role initially. Once again, that's the mindset of a child.
Monaca's relationship with the Warriors of Hope:
The Warriors of Hope are a group of children who are extremely resentful and hateful of adults, regardless of whether or not they were involved in their rough paths.
We all know that the Warriros of Hope are extememly tramutized kids. Masaru had alcoholic parents who physically abused him, Jataro was physcologically abused to the point he bealived he was so ugly that if anyone saw his "repulsive" face they would die, Kotoko was r*ped multiple times by disgusting p*dophilic men (not to mention, Monaca's brother was attracted to her), and last but not least we have Nagisa who had pressuring parents who wanted to raise him as the child prodigy and expirimented on him constantly.
Monaca used the Warriros of Hope's trauma against them, manipulating them to the point were they had to do her bidding completly.
As much as I hate to say it, Monaca truly saw them as pawns. Although there are some instances where she openly declares her care for the Warriors of Hope, it's likely she does that as a form of emotional manipulation.
If anything, she probably did see them as equal in the beginning but then when she started to gain control over her own family, she started to do the same with the Warriors of Hope as a way to protect herself from getting hurt, then again this is my baseless assumption.
Her dynamic with Nagito:
Monaca was amused by Nagito's strange behavior and contradicting beliefs and appeared to be somewhat annoyed with him at the times. However, the two appeared to at least seemingly respect each other in some way, as they treated each other somewhat formally as allies.
Her dynamic with Nagito is one of the most intresting ones. Obviously I think that her being rasied by Nagito was potentially a dangerous thing, considering Nagito's goal was for Monaca to become Enoshima's successor. Monaca seemed to agree with this goal, but Nagito's constant rambling about hope and despair made Monaca bored and feel embarrassed about the whole thing.
She claims he made her an adult in a way, as she grew up in the mental sense and became more cynical and apathetic, not really caring about anything.
In the end, Monaca found Nagito creepy and annoying, but she also appeared to get closer to him during their time together, while originally calling him just "Mister Servant" in UDG, she later refers to him as "Big Bro" in Danganronpa 3. I do think their dynamic was sort of soft and I would've loved to have seen more of it. Honestly the concept of Nagito being a soft brother to Monaca warms my heart, and the wasted potential will forever anger me.
(If any Danganronpa fanfic writer or any writer in general is reading this post: if u could be so kind and do a PLATONIC Nagito and Monaca prompt and tag me in it, I would love you forever!!)
My opinion on Monaca:
I think that Monaca was a very well-written character who deserved more than what she got in the end of Danganronpa 3. She was abused, mistreated and belittled by her family. If anything, I see her as a completely misguided little girl. If she actually had a positive authoritative influence in her life, she wouldn't have turned astray.
A lot of people disregard Monaca's trauma and forget that at the end of the day, Monaca was a child who the moment she was born, the people who were supposed to love her were unwelcoming.
Don't get me wrong though, there is no way in hell I will ever justify or condone the things Monaca has done. If anything, I just think that she alongside the rest of the Warriors of Hope should've been properly taken care of.
Also, if you dislike/hate Monaca thats 100% valid! She did a lot of inexcusable things and its alright to hate on her. I personally love her character but I know she is not everyones cup of tea.
If you read all the way, I'm actually surprised! Thank you and I hope you enjoyed<333
#Danganronpa#danganronpa text post#Warriors of hope#kotoko utsugi#masaru daimon#jataro kemuri#nagisa shingetsu#Monoca Towa#Monokuma#Junko enoshima#Nagito komaeda#Ultra despair girls#udg#udg nagito#Danganronpa 3#Komaru Naegi#Toko fukawa#Tokomaru#Hope and despair#Monaca Towa#Haji Towa
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Toxic Men in TV Series who are the absolute worst.
(TW: R*pe and Sexual Assault)
While there are some men who seem to be interesting, let’s not deny the fact that there are most male characters who act like their “toxicity” is cool but honestly, it’s horrible and something not to root for. So here are the toxic male characters who are the absolute worst, excuse my misandry:
Kevin McRoberts - Kevin Can F**k Himself
We had to start somewhere from the bottom of the underworld. A recent entry on this list, Kevin is the lead character Allison’s husband who...let’s just say has the brain of a dumb frat bro who is extremely high on pot and hasn’t recovered since then. While most of the sitcoms in the past would portray these so-called goofy and dim-witted husbands as “big fun” and lovable, Kevin is not like that, at all. In this anti-sitcom nightmare, Kevin literally believes that the whole world revolves around him. He plans such stupid unrealistic schemes to seize the day, recklessly spends the savings on stupid irrelevant sports merchandises and doesn’t even let Allison have her own agency outside of his life. Plus he is so petty and spiteful to the point he destroys one good thing that any of the women in the series have, like Allison’s dream job and Patty’s love life. And that latter was because she didn’t bring him a burger! All of this makes him look less funny and more tyrannical. No wonder poor Allison got spurred into wanting to kill him.
Ross Geller - Friends
Ross may seemed like a “nice guy”, but let’s just agree it was a facade. Ross believes that he knows what’s best for the women he dates in the series and thinks he is superior and is always right about everything. He is seems extremely disturbed over the fact that his ex-wife, Carol is a lesbian and is jilted towards her current wife, Susan and snarks at the latter for it. And then there is her extreme control and jealousy towards Rachel, especially in her career. While Rachel is no saint either, Ross jumps to the conclusion that the man who got her a perfect job wants to sleep with her, then goes out of his way to humiliate and mark his territory on her and even if it’s revealed that the said guy has a girlfriend of his own, Ross still doesn’t abandon his theory, unless he believes that the guy is cheating on his girlfriend with Rachel. And then there is the fact that he joined his student girlfriend on a spring break just to have her all to himself, not caring about the fact that what if one of his students or colleagues would’ve seen him on TV with her and that could’ve put him in a huge scrutiny.
Joe Goldberg - You
The show is basically built around how toxic Joe is, but this didn’t stop him from having his own fanbase apparently, with most of them glossing over his actions. But Joe is not a dream boyfriend at all. Once he sees a woman in front of him, he immediately gets obsessed with her and believes she belongs to him and him only. And to achieve that, he stalks her, he checks everything about her, kills people he believes are harmful to her when he himself is the same and when the woman finds out about him and rejects him, he kidnaps and kills her and the cycle begins again.
Chuck Bass - Gossip Girl
What is it with the teen drama industry’s obsession with the “Bad Boy who can be redeemed with love” trope? Chuck Bass is “the bad boy” of Gossip Girl. If his attempted rape of Serena and Jenny didn’t give fans an indication that how deranged he is, his violent and emotional abuse of his girlfriend Blair cements him as this. He slut-shamed women around him, hit Blair once and even traded her for a hotel ownership and somehow he gets a happy ending with her at the end! What?
Nate Jacobs - Euphoria
Nate is a star quarterback of his high school football team and seems like he has it all, but underneath, he is fucking deranged. His untamed manly rage causes him to physically and emotionally abuse his girlfriend Maddy and blackmail Jules, who didn’t do anything wrong but just sleep with his father, which makes me think that Nate is blackmailing her into lying to the cops about his assault on Maddy when she wasn’t even there when it happened just because it’s fun for him. Honestly, I’d like to see the imagine Rue and Jules had of killing him become a reality someday.
Dawson Leery - Dawson’s Creek
Just because the show is named after him since he is the protagonist, doesn’t justify his actions. Dawson sees himself as some sort of a Nice Guy hero who believes he is entitled to everything. He has this extreme view on women and how they should fulfil his fantasies of his Rom-Com world. He is extremely critical of Jen when he finds out about her promiscuous past and tells her that she should be ashamed of herself for it, and gets jealous when his two best friends Joey and Pacey begin dating. And when he was briefly in the movie business, he was a rookie but was already a primadonna with the director and crew of the movie was working on and insulted a film critic for criticising his movie which was actually bad.
Kilgrave - Jessica Jones
Kilgrave is the main villain of the Marvel-Netflix series Jessica Jones. He becomes obsessed with the titular heroine when she breaks off from his mind-control. Before that, he spent years treating her as his sex slave and raping her constantly, which left her traumatised. He begins to stalker and believe it will be a “lover’s reunion” when he will see her again someday. He manipulates and brainwashes everyone around him to his whim and treats most women as objects but despite all that, sees himself as the good guy of the situation. Even after Jessica finally gives him his just desserts, he still haunts her everyday.
Fernando Vera - Mr. Robot
This spawn of satan is the reason why I decided to write this list in the first place. Where do I even start? He is first introduced into the series when he forces Shayla to go on a date with her and later rape her. This is what causes the misandrist vigilante Elliot to sell him out to the FBI and this apparently turns on Vera and moves his unhealthy obsession to Elliot. He has Shayla killed when he tricks Elliot into breaking him out of prison, then returns to have him all to himself by kidnapping his therapist Krista and forcing information out of her about Elliot so that he could “break him and build him back up”, like a fucked up version of The Taming Of The Shrew. He psychologically abuses Elliot into remembering being sexually abused by his father as a child and proceeds to gaslight him into thinking that he was just helping him. The huge problem with Vera is that he sees himself as some sort of Christian Grey who believes that his abuse towards both Shayla and Elliot is charming. Whenever someone failed his desires, he immediately gets bored of them and moves onto someone else, like when he got Shayla killed and moved onto Elliot. That’s why it felt so cathartic when Krista killed him.
Tate Langdon - American Horror Story
Apparently, he is Tate Langdon and he is...hot?? While most of the AHS fans glorified him due to his emo bad boy nature, let’s not forget the fact that he was a school shooter who murdered innocent students and staff and was in general possessive and toxic towards Violet. So no way he is boyfriend material!
Don Draper - Mad Men
Don Draper was the main protagonist of Mad Men. He was an advertisement and marketing executive who had a lot of vices and did a lot of horrible things such as cheat on his wife and treat almost every women and colleagues like crap.
Dexter Morgan - Dexter
While Dexter might seem like the serial-killer killer, there are a lot of things about him which are unadmirable. He gaslights those he is close to so that they could get off his back, obstructs evidence pointing out to him, captures those who didn’t even fit his victims like Doakes and caused the deaths of LaGuerta, Rita and finally his sister Debra. Yeah I think you should stay away from him.
Walter White - Breaking Bad
Aaah..the worst of the worst. Walter White is the protagonist of the series Breaking Bad. He first starts off as a pushover high school teacher who isn’t respected by anyone. When he gets diagnosed with Lung Cancer, he gets into the meth business so that he could support his family, but we all know that it’s not true. He relishes on the power and glory from being a drug dealer and then kingpin and because of that he ends up abusing both Jesse and Skyler, emotionally abusing and selling out the former to the sadistic Nazis and raping the latter several times. He is so petty and spiteful that he kills anyone insulting his ego, just ask Mike. And even after all this, he still claims that it’s all for his family. Like what?
#toxic men#lists#analysis#kevin can fuck himself#friends#you#gossip girl#euphoria#jessica jones#mr. robot#american horror story#mad men#dexter#breaking bad#kevin mcroberts#ross geller#joe goldberg#chuck bass#nate jacobs#kilgrave#fernando vera#tate langdon#don draper#dexter morgan#walter white
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[CN] Victor’s Belonging Date
🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 归属之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒
This date makes important references to his birthday R&S, so do read that first!
Victor’s 2021 birthday collection:
🐼 r&s l belonging date ♡ l video call l moments and texts l asmr
[ Released in CN on 8 Jan 2021 ]
Early in the morning on the weekend, I push a cardboard box into Victor’s living room, straightening up and heaving a sigh.
MC: I seem to have prepared too many ribbons... I'll just blow fewer balloons.
Scanning the slightly empty and spacious room, I retrieve decorations from within the cardboard box.
Victor has been busy with business trips recently. Even though I know he’d return on his birthday, I still feel a little uneasy.
In order to avert the abrupt circumstances like last year, I called him in advance to tell him about my “action plan”.
He seems to have gotten used to the festive rituals I insist upon, and has agreed to let me decorate his home.
Just as I plan to straighten up the cushions on the sofa, the doorbell suddenly rings.
MC: Who is it?
??: Hello, there’s a package for Mr Victor.
I open the door, and the deliveryman hands over a cardboard box. The logo of Loveland City’s zoo is printed on it.
MC: This is...
Deliveryman: It was sent late, I’m really sorry about it! There’s been some issues at the transfer point. It should have been sent to you at the start of the year.
A little puzzled, I nod and take the box. This seems to be the first time I’m seeing a package from the zoo.
After signing for the package, I take a picture of the box and send it to Victor.
Not long after, the phone buzzes.
Victor: Leave the box at the entrance. I’ll handle it after I’m back.
MC: Sure, but why would the zoo send you a delivery?
Victor: I adopted a panda, so the zoo sends some merchandise every year.
MC: So they actually send such things... zoo merchandise is always in limited supply, and I’ve had to rely on snatching them up whenever I visit.
Perhaps hearing the envy in my tone, Victor chuckles softly.
Victor: In that case, you can open it up and look if there’s anything you haven’t snatched up.
MC: Can I? I’ll open it on your behalf then!
With a few movements, I open the cardboard box. All sorts of animal plush toys are stored inside, with panda-related items featuring most often.
My line of sight roams the box, and I notice a small album.
There are pictures of one big and one small panda in the album. It records their everyday lives - eating bamboo, climbing trees, rolling around... it’s like a diary.
MC: Victor, there’s an album here too. There are two pandas in it. Which one did you adopt?
Victor: Both of them.
MC: You adopted two?
Victor: Mm, the big one was the one I mentioned to you before. The small one is its child.
Digesting this information, I mutter softly.
MC: I wonder who mentioned not having feelings towards animals...
Victor: Animals no, people yes. Providing help to endangered animals is a very normal thing.
MC: Only providing help?
Victor: ...what else?
MC: Nothing, I just think CEO Victor is really considerate to specially provide help to a father-son duo~
There’s a temporary silence at the other end of the line. I can almost picture Victor’s speechless expression at this moment.
Victor: Say it, what kind of wicked plan have you come up with this time?
MC: It’s a serious idea! Victor, let’s find a time to visit them? I also wish to meet these two “investees” who have caught your eye.
Victor: You’re truly giving yourself more and more excuses to go out to play.
MC: I can’t?
Victor: ...forget it, we’ll go together if you want to see them.
After ending the call, I retrieve a few panda plush toys from the box, display them on the sofa, then straighten the seats. Finally, I nod in satisfaction.
As compared to vibrantly coloured decorations, Victor should prefer these adorable plush toys.
-
A few more pages are torn from the calendar, and it’s finally Victor’s birthday.
I checked the information of his flight beforehand. Since it’s not yet time for the plane to land, I prepare to send my report to him first.
The sound of my phone vibrating enters my ears. Seeing the familiar name flashing on the screen, I pick up the call in slight confusion.
MC: Victor? You’ve already reached?
Victor: I just reached. Slightly earlier than expected.
MC: This means I'm the first person to receive your call~ I’ll just say it first - I’ve already prepared my report, and just have to tap the send button.
Victor: Looks like you have a lot of confidence in this report. Since you're done with work, head out with me in the afternoon.
I freeze for a moment. This year, Victor’s birthday happens to be on a working day. I originally planned to celebrate with him in the evening after work.
I didn’t expect that Victor, who has always been serious about work, would think of having a day of rest. I can’t help but tease him.
MC: Is CEO Victor skipping work?
Victor: I’m giving you a break too. A certain someone has been rushing work for so many days, and I’m letting you rest for a while.
My heart stirs, and I seem to understand something.
MC: Seems like I'm not the only person looking forward to today?
After a moment of silence on the other end of the line, his voice sounds, carrying with it a smile.
Victor: I shouldn’t be the only one wanting to meet earlier either. I’ll get my luggage, and will see you in around two hours.
-
At the agreed time, Victor’s car appears punctually at the bottom of the office building.
I jog and get into the car. He sits on the driver’s seat quietly, his coat half open, revealing a somewhat familiar grey coloured shirt.
There seems to be some tiny creases at his collar that haven’t been ironed smoothly, but the angle at which the collar encases his neck looks very suitable.
Perhaps due to the rays of light falling on his shoulders, or perhaps due to the warm wind blowing in the car, the image before me feels especially warm despite it being winter.
I pull on his arm to take a look, then nod in satisfaction.
MC: Who picked this shirt? It feels as though it makes CEO Victor look especially dashing!
Victor looks at me, the corners of his lips tugging upwards.
Victor: Blowing your own trumpet.
MC: You wore it yourself. Doesn’t this prove that the choice of gift was a success?
Victor: I wonder who splayed it on the middle of the bed, only missing a note saying “Wear this today”.
MC: So do you like it or not?
Victor: Passable.
I purse my lips, pulling aside my own coat. Deliberately straightening up, I beckon him to look at the matching shirt I’m wearing.
MC: Cough cough. Is it really just “passable”?
Victor seems to be taken aback for a moment. Then, a smile quickly softens his expression.
Victor: The car isn’t warm yet. Don’t rush to remove your coat.
He reaches out to pull up the zipper. With a pause, he pulls it down slightly, stopping at the chest region.
I follow his gaze and lower my head to take a look. Like this, it just happens to reveal my shirt.
Glancing at our similar colours, I can’t help but laugh secretly in my heart.
Victor: In general, there’s an improvement in taste. A little better than what I expected.
MC: Thank you for your praise, CEO Victor. In that case, should I maintain this standard in the future?
Victor: You can. All right, let’s go. Fasten your safety belt.
MC: Where are we going?
Victor: Didn’t you want to see the pandas? There will be fewer visitors in the zoo on a working day.
While Victor speaks, he starts the car, inputting the destination into the navigation system.
MC: We’re going right now? But today... I thought you’d prefer a quieter birthday.
Victor: By “quieter”, do you mean by displaying a huge bunch of plush toys at home?
MC: They’re so cute, so I accidentally...
I grin while meeting his look of distaste, and something occurs to me.
MC: But if we're going there today, I could get to know your panda friends by matching them against the photographs.
Seeing me take out the photo album from my bag and giving it a flip, Victor raises his brows in slight shock.
Victor: You even brought their photographs around?
MC: I was originally going to make you a mini photo wall, but couldn’t finish it in time. I planned to bring you the photographs in the evening, so I put them in my bag. Come to think of it, I don’t know what names you gave them.
[Note] This is a contradiction?? Because MC clearly mentioned Little Vick in a pretty old Moment post...
Victor: I didn’t give them names.
MC: Why not?
Victor: I only paid the adoption fees. The rest depends entirely on the zoo staff’s care, so there’s no need to leave them with anything.
MC: But if they don’t have names, how would you recognise them later?
Victor: Do you rely on names to recognise people?
MC: Oo... It’s mainly the face I guess.
Victor: Animals are the same. If you observe their unique traits, you’ll naturally be able to identify them.
The afternoon sunlight is somewhat glaring. I lift my head to avoid the light, and look at Victor in the rearview mirror.
He has a serious expression, but for some reason, I think of a particular fine and sunny weekend we once had, when the light also encased us like this.
At that time, the person beside me had used an ink-less brush, secretly leaving a mark related to him on me.
The car pauses at the crossing, waiting for the red light. Victor straightens the visor for me, turning his head to meet my gaze.
Victor: Why are you staring at me?
MC: I suddenly thought about how someone doesn’t name pandas, yet would write his own name on my face. Doesn’t this mean I’m important to him?
Victor: Good that you know it.
The red light flickers. Victor averts his gaze, staring at the front. Suddenly, he laughs.
Victor: But from what I see now, I’ve already been influenced by a dummy.
The visor shields me from the glaring sunlight, and also makes my vision clearer.
Whether it’s the matching shirt or the Shiba Inu keychain swinging on the car keys...
These seemingly trivial, ordinary and small details clearly reflect the traces that I’ve left on him.
-
Even though it’s a working day, there are still quite a number of people visiting the pandas in the zoo.
Following the crowd, we take a slow stroll. Many children run past us happily.
Right after walking to the panda area, I see many people congregated at the railings and observing.
Pulling Victor over, rounded panda “dumplings” immediately attract my full attention.
A few young pandas are currently climbing and having fun on wooden poles. Occasionally, they’d bump into each other and roll onto the ground. After exerting energy to flip over, they’d once again climb to the location of their choice.
As if intoxicated and stupefied, I stare at them for a very long time before remembering that the panda baby Victor had adopted could be in their midst. Hurriedly, I take out the photographs from my bag to make comparisons.
However, the pandas before me seem to be carved from the same mold. The colour of their fur are the same, and they are similar in size. There seems to be too much to take in.
I turn my head to look at Victor, who’s next to me. He seems to guess what I’m thinking, and speaks straight away.
Victor: You haven’t identified it?
MC: It’s a little difficult.
Victor points at a panda which is currently climbing a wooden pole.
Victor: That one.
MC: How can you be so certain?
Victor: It injured its leg a few months ago. During the treatment, there was a need to trim the fur around the injury. Look at its hind leg - some of its fur is newly grown.
Fixing my eyes on it, the back of the panda’s right hind leg has a small tuft of relatively shorter fur. Without a careful look, one would think it’s a normal dip.
Flipping and looking through the photos, I realise that it’s actually the case.
Just as I’m about to awe at how Victor is truly perceptive to the finest detail, I suddenly realise something.
MC: Wait, you mentioned that it’s been a few months... Have you always been keeping watch on them?
Victor: The staff will regularly provide feedback on their situation.
MC: So your e-mail isn’t filled only with reports from employees.
Victor: My life doesn’t just consist of work.
He doesn’t respond to my teasing gaze, and he continues looking at the pandas playing freely and leisurely in the garden.
Victor: Are you here to look at the pandas or me?
I respond without giving it much thought.
MC: Both!
Victor: ...
Victor shakes his head in resignation, pulling on my hand as we weave through the crowd.
Victor: There are too many people here. Let’s walk forward.
We walk and pause, following the park’s signboards. Gradually, a patch of empty land appears in my view.
A staff member is currently stacking bamboo next to tree trunks and wooden poles, as though waiting for the pandas to feast.
I tug on Victor to stop. After staying in place for a while, I see a big panda pacing over slowly.
It doesn’t seem to care about how many people are watching it. It heads towards the food, picking a comfortable position to sit down.
Flipping to the photograph of the Daddy Panda eating bamboo, I lift it up to compare it with the panda in front of me.
MC: Victor, isn’t this the panda Uncle gave to you? Its posture of leaning against the tree trunk is exactly the same as in the photo!
Victor leans down and looks over, nodding lightly.
Victor: Yes.
MC: Really? We’re so lucky to meet both of them.
Just as Victor is about to say something, the voice of a small boy suddenly drifts towards us.
Small boy: Little... Vick. Its name is Little Vick!
I’m stunned for a moment, turning my head to find the source of the voice. A small boy is being carried in the arms of his parents, reading out the name based on a nearby board.
Information regarding the pandas on duty are written on the board. Its name is found at the very top, and it’s a name I couldn’t be more familiar with.
[Note] The reason why MC finds it familiar is clearer in Chinese. Victor’s name is 李泽言 (Li Ze Yan), and the panda’s Chinese name is 言言 (Yan Yan)
Because he read the correct words, the small boy is complimented by his parents. He continues reading.
Small boy: Its a boy... and its birthday is 13 January! It’s Little Vick’s birthday today!
Turning back to look at Victor, he currently has an uncomfortable expression on his face, and he clears his throat softly.
Victor: ...my dad named it.
MC: And it happens to have the same birthday?
Victor: Mm.
I try to suppress my laughter, lowering my voice and calling out to Little Vick a few times while it’s engrossed in bamboo.
MC: Little Vick-- We’re here to see you--
Victor: [sighs] ...
MC: Little Vick-- Wishing you a happy birthday--
Victor: Childish.
Victor pretends to have a stern look his poker face, but I can still see the gradually reddening tips of his ears.
I laugh while standing in front of him, straightening my back under his reluctant gaze.
MC: On behalf of myself and Little Vick, we also wish Mr Victor a happy birthday. Don’t feel embarrassed. Your father used your name to name your favourite thing. It’s called “loving the house and its crows”.
[Note] MC uses an idiom, 爱屋及乌 ( “ai wu ji wu”), which literally translates to “love the house and the crows”. This conveys the depth of someone’s love to the point where you like everything related to that person.
Victor: Do you apply the same principle when you enthusiastically name all sorts of objects?
MC: I don’t just name everything. After all, I also “love the house and its crows”. For instance, I used to think that all pandas were very adorable... But right now, I think Little Vick is the cutest.
Only after saying all this in one breath do I feel slightly embarrassed. I hurriedly turn around, taking out my phone to take pictures of Little Vick, wanting to hide the heat on my face.
While snapping photos, I watch for Victor’s reaction. But even after a long time, there isn’t a sound from behind me, and I can’t help but turn around.
“Kacha.”
The golden, dazzling sunlight spreads from behind him, glinting brightly around his raised phone.
Before I can prepare my expression, I see Victor’s phone camera facing me.
He retracts his phone, smiling as he looks at the screen.
MC: [blushing] You... you snuck a photo of me!
Seeing that I’m reaching out to snatch his phone, Victor grabs my wrist, quickly keeping his phone in his pocket.
Victor: This is just a response to your words earlier.
MC: What does that mean?
Victor smiles, his deep eyes filled with my profile.
Victor: It means that there are many dummies in the world... But I only like the one in front of me.
-
Returning home from the zoo, VIctor’s sudden words repeatedly circle my mind.
In order for him not to realise my state of mind, I take out the ingredients I had prepared in advance the moment I reach home, preparing to burrow into the kitchen to cook.
Victor naturally walks to my side, wanting to take the bags in my hand. I frantically press down on his hand.
MC: Hold on, don’t help. I’ll do it myself!
Victor: There are so many things and you want to do it yourself?
MC: Don’t worry, I’ve practiced at home and can guarantee that I have a knowledge of the fundamentals, and won’t blow up your kitchen. Also, you’re the elderly person whose birthday is being celebrated. So you shouldn’t work. Oh yes, aside from this shirt, I’ve also hidden a few presents at home. Want to look for them?
[Note] MC REALLY USED THE WORD 寿星 ( “shou xing”) which could mean “God of Longevity” or “elderly person whose birthday is being celebrated” LOL
I say everything in one breath, not giving him a chance to retort.
Under my expectant gaze, Victor sighs in resignation, then says a few more words before leaving the kitchen.
-
With the fastest speed I can manage, I finish cooking. While bringing the dishes to the table, Victor places some gift boxes onto the sofa.
Victor: I’ve found three. That’s all, isn’t it?
MC: Not just these. You could look in other rooms.
Victor: [sighs] Looks like you really planned to prepare a hundred gifts.
MC: I didn’t do it on purpose. When I saw those things, I subconsciously thought of you. But right now, I should invite CEO Victor to test my culinary skills!
After the meal, Victor finds a few more gifts. After giving them a count, I realise there’s still one more missing.
Victor: Why are there more?
MC: The final gift is very critical. I’ll help you get it.
I head straight to Victor’s bedroom. Removing the blanket, I retrieve a long box from a crevice at the corner of the bed.
Victor has his arms crossed over his chest as he stands at the side, watching as I make a show of straightening the ribbon on the gift box.
MC: Don’t worry, there aren’t any weird presents this time. Before, I was always sending you things I liked, but those things weren’t what you liked. So this year, I want to give you some gifts that you need.
Opening the gift box, I take out the tie that I picked out, and display it from all angles.
MC: There aren’t pictures of happy faces, and it doesn’t have a strange colour. You can wear it to work!
Victor looks at me, then walks to the side of the bed and leans down.
Victor: Since a certain someone is doing her utmost to recommend it, I shall see how it looks.
MC: I’ll put it on for you!
It’s rare for Victor to be interested in my presents. I immediately climb up from the bed, flipping his collar up and fastening the tie.
This distance makes the side of his face close enough to touch. His warm breaths are on my shoulder, and I have to force myself to focus on the tie.
With much difficulty, I tie the tie into a basic shape. Victor’s low voice suddenly drifts to my ear.
Victor: This seems to be the first time I’m seeing you wear a proper shirt.
MC: It looks good, doesn’t it?
Victor doesn’t respond. He simply smiles, tidying the back of my collar.
Victor: It’s also the first time I’ve seen you cooking without being clumsy.
MC: Of course I needed to perform properly when cooking in your kitchen.
Victor: It’s also the first time we’re visiting the zoo on a day-off from work.
MC: It’s already the fourth year, and there are still so many firsts?
Victor: Is that a bad thing? Since they are all first times, you can create so-called surprises.
The words at my ear, bringing with them a smile, create ripples in my heart. My hands pause, and I lift my head to look at him.
MC: May I ask CEO Victor - does this mean you’re satisfied with today?
Victor: This isn’t about whether I’m satisfied.
Victor pulls down my hand which is holding onto the tie, beckoning me to sit down.
Just as I plan to scoot over to give him some space, I realise that he has seated down directly on the carpet next to the bed.
MC: Someone always reminds me that the floor is cold. So why is he still sitting on the floor?
Victor: The first time you came to my house, you seem to have said similar words.
While speaking, he tugs the blanket upwards before it slides down my shoulder.
Lowering my head to look at him, the “first time” he’s referring to surfaces in my mind.
The CEO who wilfully lay down on the floor to settle work, and also wilfully had a light sleep in the middle of the piano tune.
He lifts his head to look at me, his teasing gaze unconcealed and bright in the light. The tie, which hasn’t been fastened properly, hangs loosely on his neck.
Without even realising it, his relaxed appearance has become something I've grown used to.
Images in my memories and the person before me gradually match up. I can’t suppress the smile creeping onto my lips, but complain about him anyway.
MC: Victor, you’re really wilful sometimes.
Victor: I learnt it from someone.
MC: ...cough cough. Back to the earlier topic! Could the elderly birthday person please assess today’s plans, and let me gain some experience.
Victor: Everything about today, whether the itinerary or the gifts - I’m very happy with them. Not just today. Every year before this as well.
MC: If you put it that way, I can’t tell how to make it even better. After all, even though it’s been so long, you’ve never directly mentioned what you like.
Victor chuckles softly.
Victor: There’s no need to mention them. When it comes to these things, your efforts always surpass my expectations. Also, the feelings and time you expend - they are even more precious gifts than anything else.
A clamour of emotions ferment in my chest, and I finally peek my head out from the blanket.
MC: Am I one step closer to moving you to tears?
Victor: Judging from your skills in tying a tie, you’re still very far from it. But this is already very good.
As the curtain of night falls, the world outside the window gradually becomes quiet. The ticking of the clock’s secondhand at the bedside becomes clearer.
I glance at the time, and it’s already quite late.
MC: Today’s coming to an end. I’m a little reluctant to part with with it.
Victor: Reluctant to part with the off-day?
MC: Nope. I just feel as though you’ll get busy again after today... You won’t just be my Victor.
I mutter softly, but Victor still hears it. He curls his finger and taps my forehead.
Victor: Who says I'm not? From work to life, which part lacks a certain person’s shadow? Also, other than you, I've never belonged to anyone.
MC: Does this count as a return gift from an elderly man celebrating his birthday?
Victor: It’s just the truth.
I smile while tightening the blanket over myself, shuffling towards him quietly.
MC: But the opportunities to spend time with you without any worries like this are very limited. How do you want to spend the remainder of today?
Victor looks at me, then straightens up to sit with me at the side of the bed.
Victor: For the rest of the time, let’s just stay like this.
I subconsciously loosen my grip on the blanket. He takes the blanket, leans closer to me, and bundles me in it tightly.
The irritating sound of the secondhand suddenly vanishes. In the tranquil night, only the light in the eyes of the person next to me continues flowing and glinting.
Victor: Being without any worries like you wanted - it can be prolonged a little. Also, not just today. Anytime in the future - as long as you want it, it can be done.
🐼 Phone call: here
🐼 Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!
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