Now why would my dad, this cishet construction worker pushing 60 who spend his life watching only action movies and the occasional comedy movie, suddenly got VERY into mostly romantic K-dramas ??
synopsis: you’re a low-level paperwork clerk demon who somehow ended up hired (threatened) by a smug, too-pretty demon named Jinu to become the manager of the demon realm’s first-ever demon boy band. all because he accidentally found your boy band concept sketches.
warning: cursing and that’s it i think??
this chapter is by far one of my fav works, it’s giving calm before the storm 🤯
The sound of Abby’s laughter echoes through the street as you recall how you mistook the demon hunters backstage for their fans.
You’re all walking along Sinchon Myeongmul Street now. With nothing left on your schedule, you, Abby, Romance, Mystery, and Baby decided to wander the human realm and check out what’s changed since… Well, all of you died.
So far, not much has changed since your death—aside from the usual old people who are now most likely dead and getting roasted in flames. Seoul was—and still is—a mesmerizing city at night.
“It’s not funny!” you protest, smacking Abby’s chest. “I’m a clerk! I write and highlight papers for other demons, not study up on what demon hunters look like.”
Okay, maybe it was a little ignorant of you not to know what they looked like. But in your defense, it wasn’t like you expected to actually run into them. When your deskmate started rambling about generations and Honmoon this, Honmoon that, all you could think was: Damn! Your deskmate is OLD. Like, how do you even know all that?
Abby’s still laughing, and when he claps your back, you jolt upright automatically. Seriously—he needs to get a better grip on his strength.
Baby, sipping banana milk beside Romance—who is beside Mystery—glances your way.
“Yet you still have time for those now-lame idols of yours,” Baby says before taking another sip of his banana milk.
You look at him and shoot back snarkily, “Haha, yeah, and I remember not asking for your thoughts.”
He just smiles at you. “You’re welcome.”
You’re both interrupted by Romance, who’s been chatting with Mystery.
“Ohhh! Yeah, we should definitely check that out,” Romance says.
He turns to you, Baby, and Abby. “Let’s check out that box thing!” he finishes, pointing at something across the street.
You raise a brow.
A box thing?
You glance toward where he’s pointing, squinting slightly because it’s a little far, and see a group of schoolgirls lined up for a… wait—is that a photobooth store?
Baby, also squinting, asks, “What’s that?”
“I don’t know,” Romance shrugs, “but Mystery thinks we might like it.”
Mystery quickly raises both hands slightly, like in surrender. “I—I didn’t mea—”
“It’s a photobooth!” you suddenly exclaim in excitement, then dart across the street like cars don’t exist.
One car, which was driving peacefully, slams on the brakes as its driver spots a woman sprinting across the road like it’s her personal crosswalk.
“Woa—Hey! Do you wanna die again?!”
You hear someone yell—probably Baby—but you don’t care. It’s been way too long since you’ve seen a photobooth. Back when you were alive, you and your friends would always squeeze into one. You especially loved the ones where it looked like you were posing with your favorite idol.
Wow. You kinda miss doing finger hearts with D.O.
As you’re running to the photobooth, the other boys—still watching you try not to get run over by a moving vehicle—are all stunned where they stand.
Baby is the one who breaks the silence. “What’d she say? Photo tube?”
“Does it matter what she said? Let’s check it out too!” Romance says before grabbing Baby’s hand, which causes him to yelp.
Abby just looks at the two, shrugs, and follows.
Mystery is the last one to trail behind, mumbling something about, “I guess… you guys… can join…”
You, who are now already there, almost accidentally trip.
“Oop—”
You make a noise, catching yourself just before you hit the ground. Your ankle stings a little, but nothing you can’t manage.
You enter the store. The schoolgirls who were in line are already inside, laughing as they take their photos.
You look around and notice how clean the place is—maybe it’s because the walls are white. There are two mirrors, a table filled with all kinds of glasses (you assume for accessorizing), and in the corner near the picture area are racks of head accessories.
Oooh! They have bunny ears! You could totally force the guys to match.
You remove the yellow cap you have on and place the bunny ears on your head. You then proceed to check out the other bunny ears and pressing them—delighted by how fluffy they are—a voice behind you interrupts your thoughts.
“Aren’t those like the ones from your sketches?” It’s Romance.
You turn to him, eyes lighting up. “Yeah! Try it on, quick.”
He doesn’t say anything, just leans his head down toward you, waiting for you to put it on his head.
You place the ears gently onto his head, then slowly lean back slightly to get a better look. He lifts his gaze and looks right into your eyes, still leaning close.
“So? Do I look cute?” he says, clearly waiting for your reaction. “My number one… fan?” he adds, dragging out the last part in a teasing tone.
You stare up at him. His bangs fall just a little lower because of the white bunny ears, but the pink accents on them match his hair so well it’s almost unfair. His hair frames his face perfectly from your view, and the way he’s looking at you—like he’s waiting for your praise or something—makes your heart stutter a little.
Oh-kay.
The two of you continue to stare at each other, Romance smiling softly while you just gaze at him with a dazed look in your eyes.
“HAHA—You look like you got electrocuted and it made your ears go straight up!”
Baby, who has actually been standing beside Romance the whole time, laughs while pointing a finger at how he looks.
That snaps you out of your daze. You turn to Baby. “Oh yeah?” you say. Before he can even react, you plop the bunny ears right onto his head.
You don’t notice it, but Baby’s ears turn the faintest shade of pink.
“Awww,” you coo first before continuing. “I would insult you for saying that to Romance, but bunny ears really suit you, Baby.”
You cross your arms while looking at him with a teasing smile. He’s just standing there, a little stiff, eyes darting anywhere but you.
Abby, who has finally caught up, also starts teasing Baby.
“Aww, look at the little Baby being a baby bunny∼” Abby coos, wrapping one bicep around Baby’s neck while his other hand ruffles his hair playfully.
“Ugh! Get your fake steroid muscles out of my face,” Baby grumbles, trying to wriggle out of Abby’s headlock.
You giggle at how goofy they look. It’s like watching an older brother messing with his little brother. Your eyes instinctively drift towards Romance—and catch him still looking at you.
He doesn’t say anything. He’s just staring—then winks at you.
Which, quite frankly, makes you want to stab yourself for letting that affect you way too much.
“U-ugh! I’ll j-just… uhh—” you stammer, your mouth struggling to form actual words as your brain lags.
Your saving grace arrives in the form of Mystery, who just walked inside.
“Mystery!” you practically shout, startling him slightly before he relaxes when he sees it’s just you. You speed walk over to him, desperate to escape the absurd moment you just had.
The situation being: Romance actually making your already non-beating heart feel like it’s beating again.
Yep, now you get it.
Why he’s the one called Romance out of them all.
The demon really does know what the people want.
“Let’s all try the photobooth!” you say, quickly grabbing Mystery by the hand. You then drag him over to the others, who are still busy teasing Baby about the bunny ears.
“Hey guys, let’s do the photobooth,” you announce, moving to grab the other bunny ears—your other hand still holding onto Mystery’s, who stays quiet beside you, simply observing what you’re doing.
“And… what are we supposed to do here exactly?” Baby asks, mumbling a final, annoyed “move” to Abby, who still has him in a headlock. Abby finally lets go, and Baby starts rubbing his neck while shooting you a look, clearly waiting for an explanation.
You look at them all pointedly. “You guys don’t know what a photobooth is?” you say first, followed by, “Seriously, how old are you guys? I’m actually kinda shocked you can even sing, rap, and dance that well.”
They glance at one another, clearly having zero plans of answering your how old are you guys question.
You continue, “It’s just taking photos. Like, you know…” You pause. “Digicams… or painting a face portrait. Whatever era you all crawled out from.”
“Ohhhh,” they all say in unison—except Mystery, who remains beside you, silently staring.
Just then, the schoolgirls finally exit the photobooth, giggling and laughing as they look at their photo strips.
You gasp, clasping Mystery’s hand tighter. “Look, they’re already done. Let’s go!” you say, speed-walking over with him in tow. Mystery follows wordlessly as you drag him along, your other hand holding the bunny ears that all of you will be matching with.
You enter and immediately take in how tiny the space is—it could barely fit you, Mystery, and maybe Baby.
“Wow, this is tiny,” Abby says behind you, followed closely by Romance and Baby as they all attempt to squeeze inside after him.
“Oof–” you grunt, getting slightly squished to the front when they all try to pile in at once.
Things turn chaotic fast, with everyone trying to stand in the same tiny spot without trampling each other. Your grip on Mystery’s hand gets lost in the shuffle as survival mode kicks in.
“Abby, move!”
“No, you move, Romance! You’re crushing my knees.”
“Can the weirdo touching my butt let go? I don’t swing that way. Unless…”
“It’s not me holding your butt, Baby.”
“I… think you’re facing the wrong way, Abby.”
After a few more rounds of shuffling and mild screaming, you all finally manage to squeeze into a semi-decent formation where at least everyone’s face is visible on the camera. Well, Abby’s body is mostly outside the booth—but as long as his face is in frame, you count that as a win.
You insert the borrowed (stolen) money into the machine, then start choosing the settings and picking out a couple of cute filters.
And… done.
“Okay, let’s take a picture without the bunny ears,” you say, holding up a finger heart. Mystery and Baby, standing on either side of you, both try to copy whatever you’re doing with your hands. Abby and Romance, in the back, each do half a heart and try to connect them into one whole heart—something they saw a bystander do during their performance.
Click!
“Done, now let’s put on the ears,” you say, then begin trying to make them all wear the bunny ears. Mystery was easy—he just stood there quietly, waiting as you placed it gently on his head. Romance was just as cooperative. Abby, though, was harder—mainly because you were still squished at the front of the booth, and he wasn’t really helping. He let you struggle a little before finally leaning down, letting you place the ears on his hair.
You could hear a few annoyed “Hey!” and “Watch the face!” complaints from the other guys as Abby leaned in, squishing everyone else even more in the cramped space.
You then turn to Baby. He’s just standing there, staring at you.
“No,” he says flatly.
“Oh, come on! It’s just one picture!” you protest, immediately trying to put the ears on him yourself. A mini-wrestling match breaks out inside the photobooth, sending everyone into another tumble as the limited space works against you all.
“Baby, just put it on!”
“You put it on, Abby!”
“Abby already has it on—that doesn’t even make sense.”
“Your face doesn’t make any sense, Myst!”
“Uh… that was Romance…”
“Guys! The countdown is already starti—”
Click!
Before any of you could even react, the camera had already snapped the picture—catching you all mid-argument. In the photo, you’re half-twisted, trying to wrestle bunny ears onto Baby’s head while his mouth is open mid-retort. Abby’s arms are outstretched to help, Romance is inexplicably posing with his side profile and flashing his earring at the lens, and poor Mystery’s face is half cut off.
“Damn it, Baby!”
“I don’t care. I’m not putting it on.”
You roll your eyes, just in time to see the countdown beginning again.
“Fine, whatever. Another picture, guys!”
The next two photos were just as disastrous—all with no bunny ears, thanks to Baby’s petty refusal. Finally, you all tumble out of the tiny booth. Everyone heads outside while you stay behind to wait for the photo strips.
…Why is it taking so long?
While waiting, the pain in your ankle starts to return—worse now than before. You glance down, wincing. It must’ve gotten pressed or twisted while you were being crushed in that booth. You lean down, lightly touching your ankle. It’s red now. You try to take a step but the pain just doubles.
Crap. How are you going to walk normally now?
The photo strips finally print out. You grab them and try to walk—slowly. Your gait’s slightly off, but you tell yourself it’s not that noticeable.
You step outside the booth and look around…
No one.
…Did they seriously leave you again?
You scan the sidewalk, slight panic rising in your chest. How are you going to get back to the demon realm? Your demon magic wasn’t strong enough for teleportation!
“Oh, did they leave?”
A familiar voice cuts through your panic. You look up to see Abby… munching on a donut.
Huh. Truly a peculiar bunch, these demons.
“Abby!” you call out, relieved. You try to walk over to him but stop mid-step when your ankle protests again. You wince and freeze where you are.
Abby, who had been watching you the whole time, starts strolling over—still chewing.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks around another bite. He’s holding a small paper bag that is full of donuts.
“It’s nothing,” you lie, trying to straighten up. “Where are the others?”
He shrugs. “Dunno.” Another bite. “I saw some lady eating these and thought they looked good, so I asked her for some. She was super nice—gave me the whole bag. Haha!” He beams, proud of himself, and starts rummaging through the bag.
You squint. There’s a slip of paper.
Ah.
A phone number.
He tosses both the bag and the number into a nearby trash can, already munching on the final donut.
You stare at him—still chewing.
Hmm. Poor Lady.
You then try walking again, this time slower, carefully searching for the other boys. Abby, who had just finished eating his donuts, casually falls into step beside you.
“So, where are the photos?” Abby asks.
“Oh, here,” you say, pulling them out and showing him all the photo strips. He leans in a bit closer to you, glancing at the pictures while you focus on walking slowly and carefully.
Abby, initially engrossed in the photos, glances down at your feet.
Hmm. Did you always walk like a zombie?
Suddenly, he crouches down in front of you, facing your direction, which startles you.
“Wh-what are you doing?!” you exclaim, alarmed because—hello?—there’s now a Greek-god-level man crouching in front of you.
“Why are you walking like that?”
“L-like what?”
“Like a zombie.”
You try to wave it off. “I-It’s nothing. I just tripped earlier. It’s not a big deal.”
He keeps eyeing your ankle, then looks up at you. You open your mouth to tell him to get up, but before you can, he turns around and crouches lower—back now facing you in a very clear gesture.
“What the—Abby, what?” you ask, already knowing exactly where this is going.
He gestures with one hand. “I’ll carry you.”
You immediately protest, “No, really, it’s fine. We can just stay here and wait for the others.”
“Just—hop on. We’ll move faster than whatever this is,” he says.
You're still hesitating. It's been ages since someone gave you a piggyback ride—and the last person was your best friend who only did it because you couldn't swim.
“Do it, or I’ll carry you like I did back at the studio.”
That threat is all it takes to make you immediately scramble onto his back.
Yeah, you weren’t about to relive that again. You literally vomited earlier.
You wrap your arms around his neck, legs hooked around his waist, while he holds you securely in place. He stands up, adjusts you slightly for balance, then warns you to hold tight. He shifts into a light running stance—
“Wait! Don’t run,” you say quickly. “Just walk normally. The guys probably aren’t too far.”
Your face is right near his right ear, your voice softer now.
He listens and slows down, walking steadily.
It’s quiet between you. Mostly because you can’t bring yourself to talk properly. He asks you questions about the photos and all you can do is hum or give short, vague answers. Your brain is still trying to process that you’re being carried by Abby—the same demon who used to annoy the hell out of you by sitting on you randomly.
You’re still not sure if this is a blessing… or an elaborate prank that ends with you waking up back on your work desk.
Trying to act casual, you throw out a question you’ve always wondered about.
“Abby, why did you agree to this?”
“To what?”
“Being in a demon boy band?”
He pauses mid-step, then resumes walking—but slower this time.
“Personal reasons,” he replies simply. “What about you?”
He throws the question back at you without really answering, and you take that as a sign that he doesn’t want to elaborate. You respect that.
“Personal reasons,” you echo, but this time with a teasing tone.
Yeah, no way you’re telling him the real reason you said yes was because Jinu promised you there would be hot demons involved.
He grins slightly at your answer. The both of you laugh—and the silence that follows isn’t heavy anymore.
It’s… kind of nice.
Hopefully, everything stays this nice.
You then begin hearing whispers in your ear, causing you to flinch slightly.
“Woah, are you—” Abby starts to ask, but he suddenly pauses mid-sentence. He’s hearing them too.
Your other hand moves to your right ear, trying to block out the eerie murmurs, but it’s no use. The whispers only grow louder, more persistent—and that’s when you feel it.
Your demon marks start to glow.
Oh no.
You glance at Abby and see it—his demon marks glowing as well. And before either of you can react—
You're yanked from the human realm.
Back in the demon realm.
In Gwi-Ma’s chamber.
You land with a thud, falling from Abby’s shoulders onto the charcoal-black pavement. Dizzy and breathless, you sit there for a second before lifting your head… only to realize you’re surrounded.
Surrounded by demons.
What the fuck?!
Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest, panic rising fast—until you realize…
They’re not looking at you.
They’re looking at the Saja Boys.
Your eyes dart to the center where you now see Mystery, Baby, and Romance—clearly teleported here just like you and Abby. You find yourself staring at them from where the crowd of demons are standing, like you're just another spectator.
“Saja Boys!”
“Saja Boys!”
“I love you guys!” one demon cries out, full-on sobbing.
You glance toward the crowd—your jaw drops slightly.
Damn, they even have the limited-edition lightsticks you designed.
The chamber erupts in cheers, the air crackling with demonic energy and the arrival of incoming souls, all funneling toward Gwi-Ma. You’re now standing there, stunned, watching the spectacle unfold—until you notice something.
Someone suddenly appears, collapsing in front of Gwi-Ma.
He’s now speaking with Gwi-Ma, his back straight, posture confident.
Jinu.
—
“Where are you going?” you ask Jinu, arms crossed as you stand outside the abandoned building.
When you and the boys finally got back, the first thing you did was head to your room to rest. But you were woken up by a sound from outside. When you checked it out, you saw a figure walking quietly.
It was Jinu.
“I’ll ask again. Where are you going?”
He only glances at you, the corners of his lips tugging into a smirk. “Why? Are you concerned about me?”
“Yes.”
Your answer makes him pause mid-step, right before he can teleport. He turns to you fully.
“What?”
You keep going. “I’m worried about you. Didn’t you run into the demon hunters earlier?” There's concern in your voice.
He stares at you, eyes slightly widened.
You knew about the demon hunters?
Then he turns away again, scoffing lightly. “That’s none of your business, manager.”
You take a step toward him. “Jinu—”
“No.”
This time, he fully turns then walks over to you.
“Your role is to be our manager,” he says coldly. “Nothing else. So quit asking about things you’re not involved in.” His voice is sharp, words slicing through the air between you.
You stare at him, stunned—your eyes slightly wide at the sudden outburst.
Then he looks away.
And without another word, he teleports back into the human realm.
ANYWAYS HII!! heard u were open for requests. may i request tammy + qiu with and an artist reader :00
requests of my favorite fandoms are my catnip good gof woa who could this be‽‽ my reqs and my ask box are like always open btw >◡<
extra note/s: I refer to step 1 Qiu as he/him. Uhhh take this as platonic or romantic, I'll add an indicator for romance (𐙚) ^^
more under the cut > o
✧ At 10 years old, QIU's fascinated. How he discovers your interest and skill in arts varies but his reaction doesn't. He's impressed! Whether digital or traditional, Qiu would love to participate especially if you asked him yourself.
For this reason, he carries an extra pen and even those colored ones just in case you get bored or if you're suddenly struck by creativity when you two are playing :3
✧ The first time you show him one of your doodles you made during class, he's compelled to do the same whether or not you actually give him it. And ever since, you two've been exchanging these sketches during class. It's the cutest scene to walk into.
✧ URGH AND THE THINGS HE DOES WHEN YOU TELL HIM ABOUT ART BLOCK DEPENDING ON HOW AND WHAT YOU DRAW
You're into drawing sceneries? Trust that he starts telling you and Tamarack about more "special things" in the forest and/or the town.
Like the sky? There's this clearing a lot further into the forest at your backyards. Stargaze, watch the clouds and the sunset together?
✧ It's also necessary for me to mention that unlike his notes, lazily pressed against eachother and constantly on the run, anything you give him goes to a safe space probably in between a books pages, under the the matress of his bed or inside a drawer/container.
"They broke into my backyard accidentally, 'cause they were on a crazy investigation about a paper airplane. Plus, they got here a day ago and they're already looking out for me. Normally, I'm the one doing that."
"Besides, they're pretty. And they make me pretty. Look! Look how they drew me!"
✧ As for 10-year-old TAMARACK, she's curious. The things you draw, are they based on actual places? Actual people? Oh, you draw based on your imagination? Elaborate.
✧ At some point in the prologue, she says "All the forests in the world are different, and some places don't even have forests. I can show you good spots to find things since you're newer to this forest than me."
And I can't not think of her running up to you to give you all of what she gathered for you to draw like omfg
With all those leaves and tiny branches sticking out of her hair and sweater, she smiles brightly with her hands filled with her treasures. AUGH SHE MAKES ME SO SICK I LOVE HER
✧ Like Qiu, she has her own safe spot designated for only your drawings if you've given her any.
She shows off all of them. Especially if you've drawn her?? It'll be the only thing she talks about during literally any time for the rest of the month and the few months after.
"Out of all the friends I have here, you're the best one. We came to the same exact neighborhood, almost at the same time, and are he same age. You have fun outside and I do too."
"I think you're pretty. How you draw me is pretty! I've never met a kid who was just like me. That's important. That's serious."
✧ Now, 14-year-old QIU's pretty much no different. They're even more impressed when they see just how much you've improved. Nonetheless, they treasure your old drawings just as much as they do they new.
They take the liberty of providing you with both a pen and paper to draw on when you're together, in case you don't bring your sketchbook (if you own one).
On those days where you two just sit in silence in their hideout, their gaze drifts to your side quietly a few times to watch your progress. After a while, they settle with sitting right next to you and watching the stroke of your pen against the paper as the scene forms with each hatch.
✧ As a teen, they've actually been a tad bit farther off the town when they feel like taking a ride on their bike. They've seen many sights and burn the route into their brain for them to tell you about. They'd even be happy as to bring you there themselves.
✧ If you ask them to be your muse, good god you'd need to tell them what to do.
It's almost a funny sight. Qiu, the kid who knew what to do their whole life asks you, "Should I pose? Where do I look? Ah- what's my good side?"
𐙚 They can feel their breath hitch under your scrutiny. Suddenly, they're concious of every single thing about them. Where do their eyes go? Should they move their hands? Is their hair in the way?
They avert their gaze flusteredly, their head ever so slightly moving to the side when they do so.
And good god do their hands clutch the fabric of their pants when you tell them to look at you properly.
✧ Same goes for TAMARACK at 14. She's as intrugued as ever to hear about your work. She admires (you)r style from then till now and has learned to appreciate the time gone into things as simple as this, whether or not you've made it with her in mind. BUT GOD IF YOU TELL HER IT IS, it's always sitting on her desk and she thinks constantly about what you've done for her.
✧ And while she doesn't exactly bring you a pen, she's more than glad to hand you hers when you need it.
✧ Unlike before, she'd now be at your side when you two hung out at her backyard. She'd be sitting across from you, practicing the cello. The hum of her instrument accompanied by the sound of nature and the scratch of your pen against paper gives her a sense of calmness.
This may also be when she realizes she's been your muse! Her fingers trace over where your pen has been and boy appreciate isn't even enough for her to describe how she felt. It was definitely happy, but that wasn't the word either.
𐙚 Her heart pounds alarmingly as she admires your work. It's almost concerning to you that she sits silently with a blank expression as she held your sketchbook in her hands.
But that concern washes off you as soon as a warm smile curls the corners of her lips, tender adoration displayed all over her face.
Evren knew that what she was doing was wrong. It wasn't right, but still she walked up the empty staircase, her dim light illuminated the otherwise dark place. The guards were asleep thanks to some magic sleeping-powder and the key they had was in her hand. Her golden hair fell infront of her eyes and she moved it out of the way.
Soon she reached the top of the stairs and stood infront of the old door. Hesitation began to show up. "I can still turn back..." she thought to herself. Maybe it was for the best too. The others woulden't have done what they did out of spite or any cruel intention. Some things were better left unknown, for the knowledge could lead to ones own destruction.
But, like she had done with alot of things and doubts in her life, Evren pushed the worries aside. She took a deep breath. "You have to do this. For her." She said, holding onto an object in a hidde pocket in her dress. That object was a string of blue pearls that was once used to tie someone's hair together. The key was inserted into the key-hole, the door opened and revealed a large room. Torn books were laying on the floor, puddles of unknown liquids were still there. But that wasn't the thing Evren came here for. Her attention and gaze fell upon a large mirror hanging on the wall. Nervously she approached it but put on a brave face, the broken glass under her shoes made a crunching noise.
"Magic Mirror on the wall..." She began. A strong ghust of wind came from it and Evren had to put her arms infront of her face. Suddenly there were clouds of smoke and green flames ignited in the mirror. It was then that a face appeared, a face that was somewhat familiar.
"Well well well, like I did say: Thou would'st return to me some day." said the face. Evren felt regret and like she had betrayed the others. "You said you could help me, tell me the truth?" "Truth is what I speak and see. But, why should your problems interest me? You expect from me a good deed, but did not help me in my hour of need." Said the mirror, sounding very uninterested about her troubles.
"If you help me, I'll help you in return. There must be something you wish for?" Asked Evren. She (somewhat) knew the person in the mirror and knew that he couldn't resist a good deal. But the mirror rolled its eyes, pretending not to care."Thou doth not really intend to grant whatever wish I say. So be gone, goodbye! Have a nice day!"
"What if... I, give you... your freedom." The unsurety in her voice was as clear as glass. Evren didn't know fully why this person was imprisoned in that mirror but there had to be a reason. But, if this was the only way to find out what had really happened...
The eyes of the mirror lit up. Freedom? That was really something he couldn't say no to. He knew Evren well. The promises she made were always kept, even if they seemed impossible.
*As the melody of the song stars, the mirror has one line of spoken dialouge before he starts to sing.*
"Freedom for me, what glorious day! Now hush and shush, listen to what I say:
Time, it is fluid, I see past and future flowing free
I know the tale that you think is unknown
But it's part of mine and your own
E: What?
*Evren is confused. How could he be part if it?*
M: I see a tale of past romance, I see the sacrifice of man
I see portrayals of betrayals and a brother's final stand
I see her on the brink of death, I see him draw your final breath
*During this part of the chorus, the surface of the mirror shows different visuals: Symbols, objects or actual people that were once involved in this story that connect to the lyrics.*
I see a tale you'd think of as a lie, but what I say is true
E: What do you mean?
I don't understand all your visions, please don't say
That they did all of this for nothing!
M: I see the princess and the king in red
Both gold of heart and both wanted dead
*The mirror now displayed visuals the silhouettes of Asha and Rosio, a shimmer of gold and a sword.*
I see two hearts, full of love they were beating
*It shows the silhouettes of Asha and Orion, dancing together.*
But one dosen't beat anymore
*The silhouettes of the two dancers fall apart into sparkling dust. It leaves it open who the mirror meant.*
*Here we have a short moment of silence to make this line and visual abit more impactful, so just imagine that the "WHO?!" isn't there.*
M: I see a tale of past romance, I see the shattering of man
*During this chorus, the visuals change to match the changed lyrics.*
I see tales of the royal and unloyal and the choice of where to stand
I see the lies and truth of death
C:Fallen star, broken heart.
M: I see the final and first breath
C:Truth or lie, live or die.
M: I see a tale you'd think of as lie
C: Bro-ken king-dom.
C:History now is undone.
M: But what I say is true
C:Can't change this now, can not change now
*During the last part of the choir, the mirror shows an actual image. It shows Asha, her sword next to her. Her hair is shoulder-length and her armour stained with red. A shadow looms over her face as she lays lifeless on the ground. Evren feels tears run down her face.*
*As the music quiets down, a new sound can be heard. It's the sound of multiple and different voices talking and singing, all at once. While this happens a cloud of smoke stars to appear in the mirror and makes a swirly shape. It will now begin to show what happened. What truely happened.*
"HOW COULD YOU! YOU MONSTER!!!" "I can't let you go-" "That's what friends do!" "I... love you." "GRAB HER! DON'T LET HER GET AWAY!" "We'll stick together." "-, we have to JUMP! That's the only way-" "...Protect Rosas and m-my kingdom-" "...Nico?" "-right here in my arms-" "YOU. ARE. NOTHING!" "I will protect you. At all-"
✨️..🌟..✨️..🌟..✨️..🌟..✨️
Prolouge: Once Upon A December
Once upon a time, there was a kingdom by the name of Rosas, its ruler a man named Rosio. The prince, now turned king, took good care of his people and kingdom by ruleing with goodness and strength. Everyone who knew him described him as a loving soul who greeted everyone with open arms. These virtues did not only come from his heart, but his parents too who themselfs were taught this by their parents, who learned it from theirs and many generations more. Rosas stood for about 70 years already once young Rosio wore the crown, and he vowed to keep the kingdoms legacy alive.
Rosio also wanted to help his people achieve their wishes and dreams. He would help people in any way he could, without magic too. Because he learned that anything could come true if you put the right amount of effort into it. There were cases where Rosio did have to use magic to grant wishes, but he was very careful with those cases. Wishes, although they can be beautiful, could lead to the destruction of alot of things if the wrong one comes true.
Somewhere far far away though, somebody was not happy with this. In a kingdom amongst the stars, the kingdom of Estrellania, there ruled a star named Galaxius. He had been in charge of granting wishes of the people on earth for many centuries now. One has to add that he had been very selective with the wishes he granted, so it wasn't unusual for one or two wishes to be granted in a year or even none at all for multiple years. Wishes of a better harvest, for better living condition and the recovery of a sick family member didn't bother the star. They were a waste of his magic and time.
Still, the star was infuriated that a mere mortal like Rosio was bold enough to grant the wishes of those humans. Stars were always looked up upon by humans in hopes that their wishes and dreams would come true. But now a man on earth dared to grant wishes as if the people deserved it? Only Galaxius decided what everyone deserved when it came to granting wishes. What would become of the stars if humans did it on their own? Galaxius and his subjects would become useless, forgotten and all thanks to some old man. Rosio had to be delt with.
And so, one foggy december evening, Galaxius went down to earth, ready to meet Rosio. The king was very honored and amazed to meet the star king, who seemed like a very nice person. They soon formed an alliance with eachother, exchanging goods with eachother that weren't able to be found in the kingdom of the other king. The alliance was working out so well, that Rosio turned that very day in december when the two kings met, into a special day where people celebrate the alliance of stars and humans.
Everything seemed good and right. A part of Galaxius' plan. Now that he had gained Rosio's trust, he could finally start his true plan: To take the wishes of the people. If he couldn't grant them, then why should they keep them? Their magic would be much more usefull for him no doubt. And so, over the months, Galaxius took the wishes of the people, crushing them to gain the magic that was locked away in them. This although lead to concequences for the people: Their motivation faded, their joy and emotions seemed to be gone and they were only a shell of what they once were. And even King Rosio himself wasn't doing well, for his health kept getting worse each day.
Rosio was distressed when he found out about his people being in this state. He couldn't think of anyone being behind it, so he asked his royal magician and assistant, a man called Marc, to find out what was the reason behind the decline of his peoples health. Marc returned with bad news: The people had been robbed of their wishes which were destroyed shortly after, meaning he couldn't restore them with magic. The king demanded to know who would dare to hurt his people. He thought his ears were playing tricks on him at first when Marc said that the culprit was Galaxius.
The king was in disbelief. The bond of Estrellania and Rosas had been strong for quite some time now, so why would his friend steal the wishes? But the signs were all there and they all pointed to Galaxius. And things only got worse: As soon as Galaxius heard that Rosio had discovered his secret, he declared war on Rosas. Was the star scared in any way? Of course not. Rosio was very ill. He was too old, too sick to fight. Rosas would soon fall in the hands of the stars, just like Galaxius had planned.
But to the surprise of the Star king, Rosio agreed to fight. Because Rosio was willing to fight for his people and kingdom, no matter how old or sick he was. Galaxius was almost impressed, but found this old hag to be rather annoying and quite stupid. Oh well, if Rosio had a death-wish, then Galaxius would gladly grant it.
And what a war it was. Lifes were lost, people injured, stars killed, bones broken, limbs dismembered. If there had been any white roses growing in Rosas, they were unreconizeable, for the blood made them all red. Galaxius was still sure of his victory, Rosio was still determined as ever to fight for his home. Arrows were shot, swords were swung, catapults used, humanity of people was lost. Galaxius was ,quite literally, burning with fury. How could this old man still be alive?! His burning rage set him on fire, which made the whole place burn. The people who weren't fighting, the women and children, tried their best to extinguish the fire. Rosio's sickness suddenly put a stop to him as he began to violently cough and drop his sword. The sickess, although not as bad, was still affecting his health. The star used this moment to throw Rosio to the ground and kicked his sword away. Using his fire, he created a circle of it around the two so that none of the human soldiers could stop him. Galaxius put his foot on the kings chest. Rosio had grown too tired from fighting, his heart was raceing and he watched in fear as Galaxius raised his sword above his head. A smile, filled with pride and no mercy, appeared on the face of the star. Rosio closed his eyes. His only regret being that he wasn't able to protect his kingdom.
A scream of pain, a lost life, a dead king. Rosio opened his eyes and had difficulty seeing what was happening, but in the corner of his eye he could see the circle of fire beginning to fade. Suddenly he was helped up, by none other than Marc. And not far away on the burnt ground was Galaxius, who's glow slowly went out like a candle. Marc had seen that his king was in trouble and knew he needed to save him, even if Marc risked his own life in the process. The magician had sent a deadly blast of magic trough the fire towards the star and as the two could see, Galaxius had been hit.
Rosio thanked his friend for being so brave. The two were on the way to the others to declare the news, when suddenly there was another scream. Rosio had been shot in the back, a big hole going trough his armour. Galaxius, who was only inches away from death, had used every last bit of his powers to kill Rosio. If Galaxius was going to die, so should his enemy. Marc knelt down next to his fallen king, who's life was flashing before his eyes. While the light and life from Rosio's eyes started to fade, his last words were "Protect Rosas and m-my kingdom from... them. Promise me, that y-you'll keep my people safe..." Marc swore that he'd do anything to keep the kingdom save. Hearing these words made Rosio happy and he closed his eyes, finally at peace.
The war was over. The star army had to retreat, for now they had no leader. But they swore to return one day to finish what Galaxius had begun. Now king, Marc used his magic to extinguish the fire and rebuilt the city from its ashes.
For his act of courage that he showed in war, the people gave their new king the name "Magnifico", which was a better match to his great deeds.
Rosas looked different as time had passed. All traces of red, orange or gold were removed because they could be seen as a reminder of the terrible fire that had destroyed the kingdom. To represent the peace and purity that was now in Rosas, all roses were replaced with white ones. The force-field truely was the biggest change for the people. At first they were afraid that they could see the stars trying to break it no matter what, but their king calmed their fears. He made it so that the people on the outside could look in, but the people on the inside of the force-field couldn't look outside of it. What the citizens saw when they looked at its walls from the inside of the force-field was a shining light blue crystal material. Despite those changes, Magnifico still kept the meaning of the kingdom alive: "Everyone, no matter who they are and where they came from, is allowed to come to Rosas."
You might've guessed that the task of protecting and manageing a kingdom will not be easy for just one man alone, even for Magnifico. But luckily he wasn't alone, for his loyal and smart wife Amelia was always by his side. Previously she had been one of Rosio's advisors, one of the best. They also had a little baby, a boy that had been born just one year before the war ended. He was named Magnifico Junior ,which was just in case his dad passed away during war and that they could always remember him. But it was decided to keep that name for him, and everyone hoped that the young prince would grow into a brave young man just like his father is.
Soon, one year after the war, the queen gave birth to a second child: A little girl, who was named Asha. She and Nico, which was the nickname of her brother, loved eachother and their parents very much and hoped that, one day, they would make them proud of them.
-As you could tell, I placed some refrences to the original movie in already lol. Canon!Mags "I decide what everyone deserves" line and of course the selective wish granting were refrenced in Galaxius. Only here, his selective wish granting isn't as reasonable as it kinda was in the og movie. Atleast Canon!Mag granted wishes once a month unlike Galaxius, who does it rarely or never.
-If you're wondering what took so long about the prolouge: It went trough two rewrites and one song change. In the first version of the prolouge (which I had accidently deleted and not saved somewhere else), the opening scene with Evren and the mirror didn't exist. In the second version, the opening scene was abit shorter and the Mirror didn't have a song. But after that scene got expanded, I decided to give the mirror a song for an epic (haha, get it?) intro. This did lead to a song between Asha and Nico getting cut, but I'll probably find a way to add it back in don't worry. And if not, then it'll be a topic for my second anniversary lol.✨️
Finally! The prolouge is done! Well, not entirely. There's still the illustrations and animatic missing, but I will add them later. I really wanted to let you see the prolouge and if I had waited until I finished said drawings and animatic, we'd be waiting a long time lol. So I hope you can except this too✨️
tags: gender neutral reader, pre-relationship, significant lack of claude in the claude x reader fic, au where everything is the same but nijisanji en is just a giant smoke circle, weed as described by someone that doesn’t do weed, other liver mentions
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The air goes rich with cocoa as Shu skims the surface of the bowl. Ribbons of instant brownie batter unfurl from the mixing spatula as he raises it, then slaps the surface of the bowl again.
His phone rests on the counter. No matter how hard he wills it the screen remains blank with zero notifications. How long does it take to meet up with your plug, anyway?
Still, there’s not much else he can do while he waits for you to return. Folding the batter would be fun, but you told him over-mixing is a one-way ticket to tough brownies, so that has to wait. Especially since he hasn’t added the chocolate chips yet. The best brownies have an obscene chip-batter ratio but that requires folding, so… waiting.
In a rare moment of impatience Shu stabs the spatula into the batter and picks up his phone, just as the door clicks open.
“Got it?” He asks as you step inside, noticeably sans weed. “You got it, right?” He repeats even though he thinks he knows the answer and your empty hands confirm it.
You bitterly shovel a handful of chocolate chips in your mouth. “He’s not selling.”
“But Finana just bought from him the other day.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not Finana.”
Shu peers at you. When you invited him over to take the piss out of a crappy movie you were in a good mood, but now your eyes were pointed and narrow. Not to mention they weren’t red at all, which was going to be a problem. Sober commentary is fine, but zooted commentary goes way harder.
You flicked on your phone, unaware of Shu’s observations. “You think I could I.O.U. Feesh for some of her stash right now?”
“She’s out of town.”
“Fuck, you’re right.” You grimaced at the screen, then met his eye. “Hey, you wanna see something stupid?”
“Yeah?”
Without a word, you handed your phone to Shu. He took it gingerly and held it to his face. “From Claude: Find another weed guy I can’t [frick] with you?” Shu glanced back at you with all the understanding of a gerbil lost in a quantum physics seminar. You gestured for him to go on. “Uhhhhmm nothing personal, I can’t—“
Shu’s jaw dropped as he scrolled down. “—I can’t fall in love right now?!”
“It gets worse,” you said.
“You’re Everthing (with a big E and no y, huh) I love so if I ever see you again I’ll never let go of your hand sooo yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“Woa,” Shu said.
“So no weed.”
“Infinite weed glitch.”
“No, I just said he’s done selling to me.”
“Reader, he’s asking you out,” Shu said. “So if you stay together you have access to like his entire stash.”
You furrowed your brow. “I know he’s your friend, Shu, but are you seriously telling me to take advantage of him ‘cause he’s a dealer?”
Shu didn’t say anything.
“You’re an awful liar.”
When caught in a lie Shu always reacts childishly, a far cry from his usual laidback attitude. Guilt paints his face. “Okay, maybe he’s trying his best and doesn’t know what to do!” He cries. “This is the guy that routinely says he’s afraid of women, of course he doesn’t know how to ask anyone out!”
“He does that?” You bury your face in your hands. Surely you’re turning a deeper shade of red, too. “Oh, no. We’re both clueless.”
You slump down into the couch and groan for a while. Shu follows, brownies forgotten in favor of patting you on the back and occasionally, awkwardly giggling.
“It’s not that bad. You can get to know each other,” he tries. “I guess you’ve talked with him a little but not enough to be a friend instead of weed guy? So you could, uh, try being friends?”
“Shu, he professed his love to me and I don’t even know his last name.”
“Clawmark.” He rethought what you said. “He’s really bad with romance.”
You groan some more. Shu pats you on the back again, albeit even more awkwardly.
“You knew he liked me, didn’t you?”
He hesitated, but mustered up the words before you could call him out on it again. He sheepishly laughs. “I didn’t not know… he wanted to talk to you more.”
“Wait, did he keep cutting me deals because he liked me? I thought it was because I was a regular!”
“He gives you deals?”
“Yes?”
Shu buries his head in his hands just like you. “I didn’t realize he had it that bad.”
You both sit on the couch, unaware of how identical you look, until Shu grips your sleeve. “You don’t have to be cool with it, and he won’t be weird if you aren’t cool.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t cool.”
“Oh.”
“He’s kind of cute.”
“Okay.”
“In a lost dog type of way.”
“Huh.”
You exhale as you rub your fingers through your hair. “You have to tell me if I’m about to make an awful decision in my dating life.”
“I don’t think it’s bad, no.” Shu giggles again, but this time relief colors his words. “He’s a good guy but you should think about it before telling him anything.”
You set your phone on the table, lean back into the couch, and stare into the ceiling with laser vision. “Great. Now I need to get high and we don’t even have weed for the weed brownies.”
Shu sighs, resigned. He picks up his own phone. “I’ll go ask for Kunai’s prices.”
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi ✧. ┊ sorry i can only find this meme on ifunny
Building on your drabble of the parental nicknames chat gives Wenclair, perhaps one where Enid is wearing something Wednesday is looking for, and chat calls Enid out?
Hm, thing is idk how that would play out
If Enid is wearing smth Wednesday is looking for, couldn't she just pop into the stream room and notice Enid wear it?
Unless it's a shirt and it's under a jacket...
Ye nawh, Wednesday would be like "Enid, have you seen my shirt?"
"which one?"
"my striped one,"
Enid, very much wearing a straight slightly form fitted shirt "I'm using it!"
"amor," Wednesday sighs, before coming closer and tugging the werewolf out of the cam.
"woa hey, what are you planning to do?"
"I'm taking what's mine-"
"in front of the children!?"
"the shirt, dear. I'm taking the shirt."
Chat, watching as Endespair character proceeds to dies another gruesome death spam messages at the possibly explicit chattering in the background.
'get a ROOM'
'do u think dad's gonna get sent to the couch for this one?'
'they're both downbad for another so not reallt'
'came for the screams, stayed for the romance'
'what happened to Viper :('
'honestly willa sounds as close as one can get to Viper'
'fr, do u see the amount of sound edits there are on tiktak?'
Hispanic representation in OFMD is very well done. I won’t say it’s the show that does it best because there are many other shows out there, but it certainly stands out. So I thought I would write something like a primer to appreciate the good work and maybe help with fic writing. For each episode I’m transcribing (but not translating or it will be too long) all the Spanish, as well pointing fun things.
Episode 1
Olu: “Oye, te traigo comida”.
Kudos to Samson Kayo for his correct pronunciation. Too often, actors will mangle the Spanish to the point that it is unrecognizable or they will be so focused on making it sound right that they forget it should be acted. Samson delivers the line naturally.
Spanish is weird in how one can address another person. There is formal (usted), informal (tú), archaic (vos, os) and the Argentinian brand (vos squared). Here they use the informal “tú” which is common in modern Spanish but still shows a certain degree of familiarity. In the 18 century this form would be extremely intimate.
Episode 2
In the diary, left page, Jim writes “me asegure que el [h]ombre que mató a mi familia pagará con sangre”. There are some spelling mistakes, mostly accents, as well as the missing h-. Lovely detail. Jim is more literate than the rest of the crew, but still miles away from Lucius. It shows that while Jim received more education than most, it’s still lacking. (For more on literacy check this post).
Diary, right page: “Día 28 a la fuga. Debido al alto precio de mi cabeza, estoy atrapado en este disfraz, en una prisión de mi propia creación. El pecio de la venganza es muy alto. Pero aquí estoy, al borde de la cordura, sudando hasta mis supuestos cojones.” Woa, so Jim speaks of themselves with –o which can be either masculine or neutral, rather than the –a for feminine. Interesting choice, when in the same paragraph they speak of their lack of balls.
Episode 3
Lots of things in this episode! I’m putting most of Jim’s lines together and then explaining some stuff.
Jim: “Ese bastardito caught me unawares.”; “¡Cállate hombrecito!”; “Me tienes hasta el–” (this is said while Lucius begs not to go back to the trunk, so I can’t quite catch all of it).
Jim: “She did! Estaba ahí, clarita, on Stede’s stupid fucking nose!”; “You are pushing your luck, hombrecito!”; “Jiménez. ¿Qué pasa?”
People focus a lot on the fact that Spanish is a gendered language (like all romance languages) but this isn’t such a defining trait. What really identifies Spanish is how much it likes to use suffixes to provided nuance.
(A suffix is a morpheme added at the end of the word to change its nature. Examples in English are the –s to make a plural or –tion to make a noun). Now Spanish gets all hot over suffixes. To give a quick example, if we take “rojo” (red) we can have: rojillo (small and affectionate), rojito (even more affectionate, maybe not so small), rojazo (very big or intense, not affectionate but not derisive), rojuzco (not nice, not complete), rojucho (not nice and possibly sick), rojeras (derisive while also affectionate, somehow).
Where am I getting with this? Jim consistently refers to Lucius as “hombrecito” and “bastardito” which is a mostly affectionate diminutive. This means that Jim doesn’t consider Lucius much of a threat, but also, out of all the suffixes options -ito is not one charged with contempt, far from it.
“Bastardo” is not that common as an insult and it comes a bit soft (pendejo o cabrón would be more appropriate and much harsher) but it would be understood by English speakers. Since Jim is a Floridian it makes sense that they would have linguistic interferences. Later, Jim calls Alfeo “pendejo” which is much stronger, so, again, Jim refers to Lucius in the softest of terms while also insulting him.
Jim’s name is Bonifacia Jiménez. Two things about this.
The name: Bonifacia is kind of an ugly lower class name that was never in fashion. Funnily enough, the male version is way more common than the female, although still not pretty. A baby would be named Bonifacio either because it runs in the family (to honor a grandparent or parent) or because it is the saint of the day they were born. In case anyone needs Jim’s birthday: June 5th.
The surname: Jiménez, one I two E. You can find it as “Jimenes” sometimes, but never, ever, Jiminez. Spanish culture has always been very anxious about surnames so women never, ever, change their surname. In some contexts, if they married someone important, they might use something like: Name Surname of Husband’s surname (Bonifacia Jimenez de Boodhari) but they wouldn’t drop their own family name. Children receive both surnames (Father + Mother) and in everyday life they may use just one, to shorten things, but in legal documents they will use both. This is to say that we still don’t know Jim’s full name, we are missing their mom’s.
Beautiful detail: they included the accent over the –e- in the dagger’s carved handle. Jiménez.
Whoever though of naming Jackie’s husband “Alfeo de la Vaca” is a genius. It sounds like a Spanish name, but it is not. Alfeo is close to Alfredo, an actual name, but by shortening it they underline the sound “el feo” (the ugly one). I have never seen “de la Vaca” (of the cow) as a surname, but there is “Vaca” and “Cabeza de vaca” (Cow’s head) so it doesn’t sound wrong. Altogether, Jackie married someone called Ugly from the Cow.
Roach has Berber inspired tattoos. All sides of the Mediterranean have been in permanent contact with each other, but especially in the 17-18th centuries there was a lot of traffic of goods and people. I don’t want to type all the historical background, but it is pretty likely that Roach is familiar with Spanish culture, either because he has been in Spanish territories or because he has met Spanish communities in Turkish/Ottoman territory. The tapas are an accurate representation (although most Spaniards would say those are “pinchos” or “raciones” rather than tapas) up to the presentation itself, like the clay dish Geraldo holds. Stede is wrong: “tapas” does not mean little plates but “lids”.
This is very trivial, but the word “pirate” entered relatively late in the Spanish lexicon. The Spanish soldier’s line (“así tratamos a los piratas”) echoes nicely with Alma’s line, but at the time Spaniards would’ve most likely say “corsarios”.
Bald Soldier: “Filtry scum. Anda y vete a comerte una mierda por ahí.” (Wow, Don Bald Soldier, that was crass).
Jim: “Felicidades. Cara de culo”. Jim’s choice of insults is really something.
The Spanish captain is Nacho Vigalondo, who directed this episode.
Episode 4
Not much Spanish in this ep.
Ed’s assertion that the Spaniards die dramatically is probably right and God is mentioned often in common speech. However, in Spain (not so in Latin American where they have some semblance of piety and respect) it is very common to say “me cago en Dios” (I poo on God). I love to think that what Ed took as cries of “I beg to God” included some “I poop on God”.
Jim: “¿Qué te pasa?”; “Dios bendito. Look everyone…”
Buttons: “Hola”.
Spaniards would absolutely understand some ecclesiastical Latin. Not enough for an in depth conversation, but enough to make some basic requests at least.
Spanish man in grey shirt: “Mira.”
Spanish captain with really good outfit: “No puede ser. ¿un faro?”
Spanish man in grey shirt: “Es un faro. ¡Cambiad el rumbo!”
Someone in the background: “[la otra] vela.” (not sure about the first words)
Spanish captain with really good outfit: “Me has vuelto a ganar, Barbanegra.”
All this is said with the Spanish accent, in contrast to Jim and Nana, who have Caribbean accents.
Episode 5
Nothing. No Jim in this episode.
Episode 6
Nothing. Jim is very quiet in this episode. Although, during the duel, they mimic some moves for Stede to copy. This has nothing to do with Hispanism, I just think it’s neat.
Episode 7
So much in this ep! I am including all the lines first and then the explanations.
Jim: “¿Qué te pasa?” … “Cálmate.”
Nana: Sí.
Jim: Nana, soy yo.
Nana: Me gusta. ¿Es tu marido o están viviendo en pecado?
Jim: Él habla español, Nana.
Nana: Muy bien, ay, muy, muy bien.
Nana: Eres una decepción.
Jim: La vida es la decepción. ¿No fue eso lo que me enseñaste?
Jim’s dad: “Toma todo lo que quieras.” (Huh, Jiménez goes from formal you in the last line to informal you here. Is this why he was killed? Was Alfeo offended?)
Alfeo: ¿En serio? (stabs)
Nana: “Vamos.”; “Adiós.”; “Lo siento, hijo. La vida es dolor.”
Olu: “La vida es dolor.”
The siete gallos. “Ser gallito”, literally “to be a cock”, figuratively “to be cocky”. Good name for a group of bandits.
The convent. From the habit, it seems Nana is a Benedict nun. Benedictines are supposed to stay put in their convent and be self-sufficient and independent. Their motto is “ora et labora”, pray and work. They famously make really good liquor.
Nana. Not a typical Spanish name, but it could be a nickname. Nuns used to change their names upon taking their vows so Nana can be a nickname of her old name or her nun name (like, Natividad, Nazareth or something like that). Nana may be a random murderous nun, a relative of Jim, or their actual grandmother. In Catholicism, being married and having a family is no obstacle to later becoming a nun/monk/priest.
Is Spanish Jackie Spanish? No. If Spanish Jackie existed, she was of French and Haitian descent. I don’t know why they call her Spanish either. Is it the red?
Episode 8
Jim as priest: “Adelante, m’ijo.” (A contraction of “mi hijo” my son).
Jim: “¿En serio? ¿Geraldo?!
Episode 9
Nothing. There is no Jim, probably because they would have murdered Badminton with one single hit. We sit sadly like Olu.
Episode 10
Jim: “¡Carajo!” (When Lucius walks on them); “¡Vete hombrecito!”. (Aww, it’s definitely and endearment now).
And that’s it. Overall, all of Jim’s line are thoughtfully chosen and their insults vary depending on Jim’s respect and appreciation of the person. And it is possible that Alfeo murdered Señor Jiménez because he was too familiar.
First of all, I dont want to be mean or offensive, just for the sake of it, Im just very confused by this situation in regards to the very incresingly mayority of people that consider thmselves to be inside the asexual spectrum.
Seems like a lot of people feel a deep confusion because their bodies or their feelings don't seem to alinage with what the vast majority of people on the internet apparently feel, and they seem in desperate need of validation, seeking to label and identify with something to define their identity, but they also seem rather unwillingly to experiment Irl their sexuality or feelings. They even seem so married with the idea that they are “something”, something bad, wrong, good or different but it needs to be part of how they present to the world as a shield to justify.
Once again, speaking of separating reality from fantasy, I've read some horny takes, and some wildly exaggerated tales, even porno movies that make me think “woa, I had someone do that to me, but I didn't enjoy it the same”. It's not like I didn't enjoy it irl, it's just that reading something embellished and exaggerated will always sound so much better than reality, and if these confused individuals only have those accounts of how things apparently are supposed to feel like, wouldn't that make reality feel like a failure?.
If I remember right, speaking about making friends on the internet is not the same as making friends in reality. I think it is just the same with love, attraction and sexuality. Even our ways of loving a partner arent the same with each relationship. But if you put it against…say the romance defined by Romeo and Juliet, or Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy, or some other epic tale of love. It won't compare with what I felt for X or Y person in that moment in my life, maybe I fell head over heels with X, but also loved Y because it made me feel tenderness. Same as sexual atraction, I would find some partners that would make me so hot and bothered and ready to go even in the most inapropiated places, and maybe some other partner makes me horny and we have compability with kinks and stuff that makes having sexual relashionships very good in their negotiated way but not in the wildy horny desperate kind.
But I could convince myself that just because I haven't had this straight cut definition, then it means I'm something, and that something defines me and it means I'm not capable of finding it and for that reason I won't seek it, or even try anymore, then it means I am an outsider.
I'm asking because just today I saw a 20 year old, asking on a post something similar about the early annon. This girl says, she has libido, she finds men and women attractive but she hasnt had a relashioship with anyone nor has fallen in love but longs to find a relashionship, has no sexual experience, but she wants help to define their sexual orientation because shes confused and almost sure it means she needs a label to define what she feels because she obviously is different from others of the same age, and lots of people begun telling her she is asexual for sure. I would say that being confused is pretty much the standar when you are young ( even as adults we can find some new take on our kinks), thats why people beging experiementing and fiding what they truly like in the first place, everyone goes at their own pace and time, it's not like a milestone that If baby doesn't feel love, doesn't feel horny then it needs a flag and a label, but if someone already told her she is Asexual, Antrosexual, Arosexual, etc and she stops trying then she wont know, specially because I simply don't think that inexperience equals asexuality. And yeah, maybe some people truly don't need the experience to know, but that needs a deep understanding of yourself that won't happen unless they truly tried at least once with anything even in the most sugar coated level to say -i really, really don't like this, not even in writing. Why is people trying so hard to define themselves and others on the internet?. People need to stop asking others about something that can only be defined by ourselves, there is no answer but your own, and to know yourself and what it feels like to you.
Dude, people seriously need to stop asking google and others how to define themselves or comparing reality with porno. A life time seems like a long time to be sure about something, actually, it's a constant, neverending wtf I am feeling right now, okay-I like-clown-porn-now-and-its-fine.
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