[Fic] Usagi - NiiKou
Apr. 15th, 2005 09:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tj_dragonbladeBack from Beta! Ready to go! And Whee, it's the WEEKEND! (cartwheels)
Please pardon my complete lack of dignity. On with the fic!
======================
Fandom: Saiyuki
Title: Usagi
Genre: Drama
Rated: T/13+ (Rated according to this system in accordance with actions being taken by the MPAA)
Pairing: Nii/Kou
Summary: Kougaiji finds himself cornered in Nii's lab. 1stPerson POV - Kou
Warnings: Yaoi, mild language
Crossposted:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tj_dragonblade, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
subtle_creature, princeofdemons, saiyuki, saiyukiyaoi, saiyukiwriters, Saiyuki_Yaoi mL Mmm, spam. >_<
Disclaimer: The many incarnations and characters of Saiyuki were created by the wonderfully talented Kazuya Minekura--may she be forever blessed and properly deified for sharing her vision with the rest of us. I venture onto her playground in the name of entertainment and maintaining my sanity; in so doing I mean no disrespect or copyright infringement...
================
Usagi
----------------
Nii is alone--working, supposedly--slouched lazily in front of a glowing computer screen and just lighting a cigarette as I enter the lab.
I don't know what I'm doing here, really. I wasn't summoned; I wasn't ordered to appear before him for any reason. Yet here I am, regardless, drawn to his lair by some instinct that I don't understand.
"Ahh, here is Kougaiji-sama..." There is such mockery in the title, made all the more evident by the fact that his words are ostensibly addressed to that stuffed doll he carries everywhere. He pockets his lighter, exhales a soft wisp of smoke. "What brings the prince down to grace us with his presence, I wonder?"
I don't bother with a response; any answer I might make would only encourage him to taunt me further.
"Why don't you ask him?" He addresses himself in a voice gone mildly falsetto, speaking for the bunny while gesturing expressively with one of its paws; the entire scene is so ridiculous that I'm tempted to laugh outright.
Yet there is something in his demeanor that strongly discourages any levity at his expense, even while puppeteering the toy rabbit; and the temptation dies swiftly.
"Good day, my prince," he offers, lowering the cigarette; and this time it is clear that he speaks to me.
I incline my head slightly in acknowledgement. Mother instilled manners and noble etiquette in me from a very early age, and those instincts remain firm in spite of my personal dislike of the man before me.
"And how can I serve you this afternoon...?" His tongue glides over the words as though they have some pleasant flavor; and the way he says 'serve' somehow conjures an image of my head presented to Gyokumen Koushu on a platter with an apple in my mouth.
At least I have presence of mind to concoct a quick and simple lie. "I was sent to collect a report of your latest estimates on reviving my father."
"But sent by whom, I wonder?" He draws shortly on his cigarette, tucking it into the corner of his mouth where it will not interfere with his words. "After all, I gave just such a report directly to Gyokumen Koushu-sama herself not half an hour ago..."
I *would* have the luck of inventing an excuse that he can immediately disprove.
"I think perhaps the prince has his own reasons for this little visit, hmm?" He's speaking to the doll again, making it nod sagely in response. I can't help feeling utterly belittled; and the complacent curve to his lips only irks me all the more.
"And why does it matter, what reasons I have? Maybe it's in my own best interest to keep close watch on you and your scheming."
"Ohh, without a doubt, Kougaiji-sama. Without a doubt." That complacency has a dangerous edge to it, now; and he's staring at me intently through the thin haze of his tobacco smoke.
My heart thumps faster beneath my ribs, and I can feel tension beginning to gather in the back of my neck. He unnerves me so completely, this man. He admits directly to me that he does not mean me well, smiling his confidence that this knowledge makes no difference in whether or not I will be prepared when he should decide to strike. It's as if he is prodding me, taunting me with the surety that his is the superior position.
It has always angered me to be underestimated; and I prod back, annoyed by his casual conceit.
"I do not appreciate vague threats, Doctor. Have a care what you say to me, and how you say it."
"My, what splendid courage!" he laughs, enthused, lifting the toy rabbit and holding it like an infant in his outstretched arms. "We would be fools to cross the young prince, now, wouldn't we!" And the bunny nods again as he brings it back to his lap.
I grind my teeth and hold my tongue, fuming at the condescension but not willing to provide him any further reason to mock me.
"But really, my prince, I hardly meant to threaten you," he offers next, cigarette bobbing slightly between his lips with the words; and I could almost believe the contriteness of his tone were it not for the shadowed mischief in his eyes. "I simply meant that of course it is within your purview of interests to check up on my work, to see our progress for yourself. After all, how else are you to gauge the urgency of your missions? How else are you to know what sort of successes we mean to have, hmm?"
"Gyokumen would keep me informed in these matters," I bite out, giving in to the urge to contradict him just for contradiction's sake.
"Ahh, but she doesn't, does she, Kougaiji. She never tells you any more than she wants you to know, isn't that right?"
And of course I see, too late, that he has prodded and needled me directly into yet another of his carefully laid traps. The words sting, biting deeply with the unspoken implication that I am useful only as a tool for their plans, a pawn in their chess game, no more than a puppet on a string. And there is nothing I can say that he won't somehow twist back around on me. Pride and anger knot within me, and I whirl from him to stalk across the small room, fighting the need to hit...something. Anything.
"Your own stepmother doesn't *trust* you, my prince!" He announces it as if it's a dawning revelation rather than a fact known from the very beginning; frustration boils over within me and I whirl back to face him again.
"Of course she doesn't trust me! She has threatened and manipulated and coerced, has *forced* me into cooperation with her grand ambitions; but she knows I would have *nothing* more to do with her if not for--!"
I stop abruptly, the outburst subsiding in an instant. I don't wish to bring Mother into this conversation, not with *him*--I don't need him poking gleefully about among my private sufferings.
He lowers his cigarette and simply blinks at me, behind those glasses; and then he moves with the sinuous grace of a snake, as though his bones are liquid beneath his flesh, rising from his chair and approaching me with casual unconcern.
Quite suddenly, I am acutely aware of the wall at my back.
He fixes me with his dark eyes, sharp and calculating; the eyes of some cunning predator...
And I feel like a rabbit, caught in their stare, unable to break away.
He closes in, stopping just under an arm's-length in front of me.
"Such a martyred innocent...the helpless victim of bloodlines and circumstance, hmm?" His right hand is planted against the wall, cigarette smoldering beside my head; the left is in his pocket, still holding that doll tucked close against his side.
He is not blocking me in. He is doing nothing to prevent my stepping aside and walking away from him; yet I remain, trapped, held by the smug condescension in that hard clinical gaze.
"I am not helpless," I grind out, glaring back at him, refusing to be intimidated. Neither am I innocent, with all the lives and deaths at my command; but I don't particularly want to argue that point with him.
He only smiles, an empty, patronizing gesture devoid of any semblance of genuine care.
"Bound in service to your father's mistress by your mother's imprisonment, sent on one foolish errand after another, always kept half in the dark while your soldiers are sent to useless deaths--it is such a trying burden that you bear," he sighs, his tone as sad as if my current lot honestly concerns him, as if he's had no part in it whatsoever. His head tips slightly to one side, and his eyes never leave my own. "And you, my noble, stubborn prince, you insist on shouldering it all alone, despite the friends who would give their lives for yours..."
His words trail away like the smoke from his neglected cigarette, and he leans closer.
"I...*admire* that strength, Kougaiji," he murmurs mockingly, voice soft and intimate in the breath between us. "Such magnificent *pride*..."
I sense his intent, yet I make no move to stop him.
He pauses a hairsbreadth from contact, holds for the space of a heartbeat; and then indeed he touches his lips to mine.
He kisses quite well.
And it aggravates me that such a thought is the first to cross my mind, that I don't immediately shove him back or seize his throat and choke the life from him, that I simply *let* him do this thing to me without consequence.
His hands remain where they are and his body moves no closer; but his mouth presses mine intimately, coerces it open with far gentler skill than I would have given him credit for. He delves deeper, his kiss anything but aggressive; and my stomach drops at the violation, twisting, soft warmth welling deep in my belly despite the outrage clamoring in the back of my mind. He smells like cinnamon, and tobacco smoke; I can taste the lingering flavor of his cigarette, bitter against my tongue--
He tastes like death.
And still I do nothing; it is he who ends it at last.
And then, *then* I can move, if only to blink open the eyes that I don't remember closing.
Damn him. Damn him anyway! That smirk is still on his face, and he's looking at me as though assessing the outcome of his latest calculations.
My hands clench and I glower at him, anger finally shaking loose within me though it finds no words just yet.
He stares back, unperturbed, those unfathomable eyes infuriatingly complacent behind his glasses.
When he moves, it is sudden. Completely without warning, he lifts that ridiculous bunny doll and presses its nose to my lips with a faint kissing sound.
And at last I've had more than enough.
I react without thought, raising a fist to backhand the damned toy aside. There is far more anger in the gesture than would seem warranted; but that final little touch of mockery is just too much. The doll hits the floor halfway across the room and slides, its stitched-on smile fixed as ever.
And Nii laughs, the sound rich and full of genuine amusement; he laughs in the face of my wounded pride and places his cigarette between his lips once more and saunters away to retrieve his stuffed companion.
"It seems the prince does not respond well to gestures of affection," he tells it solemnly, amusement quite evident in his tone as he straightens its smock.
He guides its paws to cover its mouth as though appalled, then moves them to mimic sobbing. "Kougaiji-sama is so *cold*!" he simpers, in a childlike voice that borders on tears.
"Ahhh, yes--" his voice is his own again, and he pets the bunny soothingly "--but it's not entirely his fault, you see. He endures such hardship at the command of Gyokumen Koushu-sama...it's little wonder he feels nothing of kindness for those of us who serve her willingly..."
The ridicule slithering under his words is heavy enough to taste.
He tucks the toy rabbit into its customary place beneath his arm and glides back to his console to resume his seat, dropping his dead cigarette into the ashtray where it continues to smolder. He punches a few keys, brings up a display of some data chart or other, scrolls through the pages while smiling his satisfaction.
And I realize abruptly that I'm being utterly disregarded.
Not ignored; for that would imply some basic acknowledgement of my continued presence. Disregarded. He behaves as though completely unaware of me. Not a look, not a twitch, not a smug backward glance, not any sort of indication that anyone besides that doll has occupied the room with him this afternoon at all.
It's as though I'm suddenly no longer here.
And indeed, I shouldn't be. I should never have been here in the first place.
The urge to do violence surges up behind my vision; it's all I can do to contain it. I do *not* need to provide him the entertainment of seeing me lose my control. Nor do I need to incur Gyokumen's wrath by mutilating her favorite toy.
So I storm from the lab then, helpless rage boiling within me. And as I stalk down the corridor, that need to *hit* something overwhelms me at last and I whirl, slamming my fist into the unyielding wall with a short cry of sheer frustration. Dull pain blossoms in my knuckles, lances up my forearm; and I hurl another punch into the wall. And another, and another, and another; there is no other outlet for the impotent fury that consumes me. I realize that the only thing I'm accomplishing is to injure myself, but I do not care at the moment.
I hate the man. I hate him, utterly; hate everything about him, hate everything he's done. He is a mad, arrogant, dangerous creature. He twists every word that comes out of his mouth, manipulates everything and everyone around him.
I loathe him. Detest him.
I do. I know I do.
And yet--
I stop, bow my head, cradle my battered and aching hand, feel the tide of my anger turning inward.
For if I hate him so completely, why then did I allow him to kiss me?
Why, for the briefest of seconds, did I enjoy it?
--------------------
Beg: 11/10/04
Fin: 03/24/05
Please pardon my complete lack of dignity. On with the fic!
======================
Fandom: Saiyuki
Title: Usagi
Genre: Drama
Rated: T/13+ (Rated according to this system in accordance with actions being taken by the MPAA)
Pairing: Nii/Kou
Summary: Kougaiji finds himself cornered in Nii's lab. 1stPerson POV - Kou
Warnings: Yaoi, mild language
Crossposted:
tj_dragonblade, subtle_creature, princeofdemons, saiyuki, saiyukiyaoi, saiyukiwriters, Saiyuki_Yaoi mL Mmm, spam. >_<Disclaimer: The many incarnations and characters of Saiyuki were created by the wonderfully talented Kazuya Minekura--may she be forever blessed and properly deified for sharing her vision with the rest of us. I venture onto her playground in the name of entertainment and maintaining my sanity; in so doing I mean no disrespect or copyright infringement...
================
Usagi
----------------
Nii is alone--working, supposedly--slouched lazily in front of a glowing computer screen and just lighting a cigarette as I enter the lab.
I don't know what I'm doing here, really. I wasn't summoned; I wasn't ordered to appear before him for any reason. Yet here I am, regardless, drawn to his lair by some instinct that I don't understand.
"Ahh, here is Kougaiji-sama..." There is such mockery in the title, made all the more evident by the fact that his words are ostensibly addressed to that stuffed doll he carries everywhere. He pockets his lighter, exhales a soft wisp of smoke. "What brings the prince down to grace us with his presence, I wonder?"
I don't bother with a response; any answer I might make would only encourage him to taunt me further.
"Why don't you ask him?" He addresses himself in a voice gone mildly falsetto, speaking for the bunny while gesturing expressively with one of its paws; the entire scene is so ridiculous that I'm tempted to laugh outright.
Yet there is something in his demeanor that strongly discourages any levity at his expense, even while puppeteering the toy rabbit; and the temptation dies swiftly.
"Good day, my prince," he offers, lowering the cigarette; and this time it is clear that he speaks to me.
I incline my head slightly in acknowledgement. Mother instilled manners and noble etiquette in me from a very early age, and those instincts remain firm in spite of my personal dislike of the man before me.
"And how can I serve you this afternoon...?" His tongue glides over the words as though they have some pleasant flavor; and the way he says 'serve' somehow conjures an image of my head presented to Gyokumen Koushu on a platter with an apple in my mouth.
At least I have presence of mind to concoct a quick and simple lie. "I was sent to collect a report of your latest estimates on reviving my father."
"But sent by whom, I wonder?" He draws shortly on his cigarette, tucking it into the corner of his mouth where it will not interfere with his words. "After all, I gave just such a report directly to Gyokumen Koushu-sama herself not half an hour ago..."
I *would* have the luck of inventing an excuse that he can immediately disprove.
"I think perhaps the prince has his own reasons for this little visit, hmm?" He's speaking to the doll again, making it nod sagely in response. I can't help feeling utterly belittled; and the complacent curve to his lips only irks me all the more.
"And why does it matter, what reasons I have? Maybe it's in my own best interest to keep close watch on you and your scheming."
"Ohh, without a doubt, Kougaiji-sama. Without a doubt." That complacency has a dangerous edge to it, now; and he's staring at me intently through the thin haze of his tobacco smoke.
My heart thumps faster beneath my ribs, and I can feel tension beginning to gather in the back of my neck. He unnerves me so completely, this man. He admits directly to me that he does not mean me well, smiling his confidence that this knowledge makes no difference in whether or not I will be prepared when he should decide to strike. It's as if he is prodding me, taunting me with the surety that his is the superior position.
It has always angered me to be underestimated; and I prod back, annoyed by his casual conceit.
"I do not appreciate vague threats, Doctor. Have a care what you say to me, and how you say it."
"My, what splendid courage!" he laughs, enthused, lifting the toy rabbit and holding it like an infant in his outstretched arms. "We would be fools to cross the young prince, now, wouldn't we!" And the bunny nods again as he brings it back to his lap.
I grind my teeth and hold my tongue, fuming at the condescension but not willing to provide him any further reason to mock me.
"But really, my prince, I hardly meant to threaten you," he offers next, cigarette bobbing slightly between his lips with the words; and I could almost believe the contriteness of his tone were it not for the shadowed mischief in his eyes. "I simply meant that of course it is within your purview of interests to check up on my work, to see our progress for yourself. After all, how else are you to gauge the urgency of your missions? How else are you to know what sort of successes we mean to have, hmm?"
"Gyokumen would keep me informed in these matters," I bite out, giving in to the urge to contradict him just for contradiction's sake.
"Ahh, but she doesn't, does she, Kougaiji. She never tells you any more than she wants you to know, isn't that right?"
And of course I see, too late, that he has prodded and needled me directly into yet another of his carefully laid traps. The words sting, biting deeply with the unspoken implication that I am useful only as a tool for their plans, a pawn in their chess game, no more than a puppet on a string. And there is nothing I can say that he won't somehow twist back around on me. Pride and anger knot within me, and I whirl from him to stalk across the small room, fighting the need to hit...something. Anything.
"Your own stepmother doesn't *trust* you, my prince!" He announces it as if it's a dawning revelation rather than a fact known from the very beginning; frustration boils over within me and I whirl back to face him again.
"Of course she doesn't trust me! She has threatened and manipulated and coerced, has *forced* me into cooperation with her grand ambitions; but she knows I would have *nothing* more to do with her if not for--!"
I stop abruptly, the outburst subsiding in an instant. I don't wish to bring Mother into this conversation, not with *him*--I don't need him poking gleefully about among my private sufferings.
He lowers his cigarette and simply blinks at me, behind those glasses; and then he moves with the sinuous grace of a snake, as though his bones are liquid beneath his flesh, rising from his chair and approaching me with casual unconcern.
Quite suddenly, I am acutely aware of the wall at my back.
He fixes me with his dark eyes, sharp and calculating; the eyes of some cunning predator...
And I feel like a rabbit, caught in their stare, unable to break away.
He closes in, stopping just under an arm's-length in front of me.
"Such a martyred innocent...the helpless victim of bloodlines and circumstance, hmm?" His right hand is planted against the wall, cigarette smoldering beside my head; the left is in his pocket, still holding that doll tucked close against his side.
He is not blocking me in. He is doing nothing to prevent my stepping aside and walking away from him; yet I remain, trapped, held by the smug condescension in that hard clinical gaze.
"I am not helpless," I grind out, glaring back at him, refusing to be intimidated. Neither am I innocent, with all the lives and deaths at my command; but I don't particularly want to argue that point with him.
He only smiles, an empty, patronizing gesture devoid of any semblance of genuine care.
"Bound in service to your father's mistress by your mother's imprisonment, sent on one foolish errand after another, always kept half in the dark while your soldiers are sent to useless deaths--it is such a trying burden that you bear," he sighs, his tone as sad as if my current lot honestly concerns him, as if he's had no part in it whatsoever. His head tips slightly to one side, and his eyes never leave my own. "And you, my noble, stubborn prince, you insist on shouldering it all alone, despite the friends who would give their lives for yours..."
His words trail away like the smoke from his neglected cigarette, and he leans closer.
"I...*admire* that strength, Kougaiji," he murmurs mockingly, voice soft and intimate in the breath between us. "Such magnificent *pride*..."
I sense his intent, yet I make no move to stop him.
He pauses a hairsbreadth from contact, holds for the space of a heartbeat; and then indeed he touches his lips to mine.
He kisses quite well.
And it aggravates me that such a thought is the first to cross my mind, that I don't immediately shove him back or seize his throat and choke the life from him, that I simply *let* him do this thing to me without consequence.
His hands remain where they are and his body moves no closer; but his mouth presses mine intimately, coerces it open with far gentler skill than I would have given him credit for. He delves deeper, his kiss anything but aggressive; and my stomach drops at the violation, twisting, soft warmth welling deep in my belly despite the outrage clamoring in the back of my mind. He smells like cinnamon, and tobacco smoke; I can taste the lingering flavor of his cigarette, bitter against my tongue--
He tastes like death.
And still I do nothing; it is he who ends it at last.
And then, *then* I can move, if only to blink open the eyes that I don't remember closing.
Damn him. Damn him anyway! That smirk is still on his face, and he's looking at me as though assessing the outcome of his latest calculations.
My hands clench and I glower at him, anger finally shaking loose within me though it finds no words just yet.
He stares back, unperturbed, those unfathomable eyes infuriatingly complacent behind his glasses.
When he moves, it is sudden. Completely without warning, he lifts that ridiculous bunny doll and presses its nose to my lips with a faint kissing sound.
And at last I've had more than enough.
I react without thought, raising a fist to backhand the damned toy aside. There is far more anger in the gesture than would seem warranted; but that final little touch of mockery is just too much. The doll hits the floor halfway across the room and slides, its stitched-on smile fixed as ever.
And Nii laughs, the sound rich and full of genuine amusement; he laughs in the face of my wounded pride and places his cigarette between his lips once more and saunters away to retrieve his stuffed companion.
"It seems the prince does not respond well to gestures of affection," he tells it solemnly, amusement quite evident in his tone as he straightens its smock.
He guides its paws to cover its mouth as though appalled, then moves them to mimic sobbing. "Kougaiji-sama is so *cold*!" he simpers, in a childlike voice that borders on tears.
"Ahhh, yes--" his voice is his own again, and he pets the bunny soothingly "--but it's not entirely his fault, you see. He endures such hardship at the command of Gyokumen Koushu-sama...it's little wonder he feels nothing of kindness for those of us who serve her willingly..."
The ridicule slithering under his words is heavy enough to taste.
He tucks the toy rabbit into its customary place beneath his arm and glides back to his console to resume his seat, dropping his dead cigarette into the ashtray where it continues to smolder. He punches a few keys, brings up a display of some data chart or other, scrolls through the pages while smiling his satisfaction.
And I realize abruptly that I'm being utterly disregarded.
Not ignored; for that would imply some basic acknowledgement of my continued presence. Disregarded. He behaves as though completely unaware of me. Not a look, not a twitch, not a smug backward glance, not any sort of indication that anyone besides that doll has occupied the room with him this afternoon at all.
It's as though I'm suddenly no longer here.
And indeed, I shouldn't be. I should never have been here in the first place.
The urge to do violence surges up behind my vision; it's all I can do to contain it. I do *not* need to provide him the entertainment of seeing me lose my control. Nor do I need to incur Gyokumen's wrath by mutilating her favorite toy.
So I storm from the lab then, helpless rage boiling within me. And as I stalk down the corridor, that need to *hit* something overwhelms me at last and I whirl, slamming my fist into the unyielding wall with a short cry of sheer frustration. Dull pain blossoms in my knuckles, lances up my forearm; and I hurl another punch into the wall. And another, and another, and another; there is no other outlet for the impotent fury that consumes me. I realize that the only thing I'm accomplishing is to injure myself, but I do not care at the moment.
I hate the man. I hate him, utterly; hate everything about him, hate everything he's done. He is a mad, arrogant, dangerous creature. He twists every word that comes out of his mouth, manipulates everything and everyone around him.
I loathe him. Detest him.
I do. I know I do.
And yet--
I stop, bow my head, cradle my battered and aching hand, feel the tide of my anger turning inward.
For if I hate him so completely, why then did I allow him to kiss me?
Why, for the briefest of seconds, did I enjoy it?
--------------------
Beg: 11/10/04
Fin: 03/24/05
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:18 am (UTC)(ducks)
I do have another Nii-Kou fic that I'm sending out for Beta shortly. But it's complete crack, for the record...
no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:27 am (UTC)Now that crack fic sounds like it might be fun. Is that the one that had you making the 'frisky little npmpho' comment? XD
no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:31 am (UTC)So. Smexy.
*turns on the fan*
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Date: 2005-04-16 06:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 07:00 am (UTC)*snickers*
no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 07:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 07:07 am (UTC)I thought i had the raunchy humor. Are you sure you don't have a suppressed Gojyo in yer head? *knocks on your forehead*
no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 07:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 07:11 am (UTC)Gomen TJ, we did it again. ^_^;;
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Date: 2005-04-16 09:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-17 01:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:49 am (UTC).......
*headdesk*
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Date: 2005-04-16 06:36 am (UTC)(shivers in the draft from the fan) And here I'd thought Spring was well on its way...
no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:37 am (UTC)*turns fack back off to ward off the chills*
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Date: 2005-04-16 06:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-16 06:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-17 12:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-17 09:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-07 04:30 am (UTC)Yours is actually the first Nii/Kou fic I've read. Thinking about the pairing before reading this, I didn't think it could ever work. Kou hates Nii too much. But of course, strong emotions sometimes get confused and blur into other strong emotions, especially under extreme stress... (not that I go in much for "hate and love are two faces of the same feeling" either, though).
So, your fic was up against a lot of opposition before I even read it, and yet... it works. You handle that opposition and make it *part* of the story, and make the story all the more powerful and convincing for that. It's both hot *and* wrong, invitation and rejection and mocking, grey areas and paradoxes and so much frustration that needs an outlet, and yet is being toyed with, and yet that begins to push him into actually giving that frustration an outlet, if in a rather violent and self-destructive way so far.
I won't say you've won me over to the pairing in general, but you have won me over to this particular take on them, being a very powerful thing that leaves me with so much to think about and a curiousity about how it will develop from there.
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Date: 2005-06-09 05:50 am (UTC)^_^ Feedback is always a nice perk, whether it's a day or a week or a month or a year or more after I've posted a fic. Thank you so much for taking the time, and for giving it so much thought.
I'm gratified that you would give it a chance despite your reservations, and even more gratified that you found something to appreciate and/or enjoy about it. Nii and Kou are very definitely a touchy sort of pair to work with. They've turned into one of many Saiyuki addictions for me, though. I'm still not quite sure how it happened. Granted I fell in love with both of them from the very beginning; but I never thought of putting them together. Kou and Doku paired up so nicely, after all; and while I thought it would be a lot of fun to work with Nii the idea of trying to pair him with anyone got very scary very quickly. He doesn't lend himself well to romance, which is the direction I'm most comfortable in following. Then I met Brad (http://www.livejournal.com/users/deathlike/) and Alias (http://www.livejournal.com/users/aliaswestgate/) and found them doing work with the idea of Nii and Kou as a pairing and that got me thinking and somehow it just snowballed from there.
It's funny, really, that I should be so addicted. My preference is for healthier relationships, happier relationships, where the sap and the angst can balance each other nicely and sate the die-hard romantic that lives somewhere deep in my soul. Nii and Kou don't have any of that. They're all about the power and control and manipulation and unwanted attraction and the helpless frustration that results. And while the romantic in me wants to believe that with enough time and enough work they *might* possibly come to some sort of mutually affectionate relationship, the pragmatist in me keeps me focused on the friction and the tension and the pressure and the volatile dynamic that came out in this fic, and in 'Daiji na Mono' (http://www.livejournal.com/users/tj_dragonblade/74694.html), my first foray into each of their minds. And somehow it's addictive, maybe *because* it's so far outside my usual fare. Then again, there's the fact that I'm drawing on a lot of personal experience with that sort of love-hate frustration that Kou's caught up in, and maybe it's all just sort of therapeutic catharsis. Anyway.
Kou hates Nii too much
Oh, indeed. Which has proven one of the more interesting aspects of this 'relationship'. Mind you, I don't go in for that love-and-hate-are-the-same-thing school of thought, either. I think they're truly polar opposites, and it's when they co-exist in regards to the same object of focus that things really get f*cked up. Although I'm not yet ready to apply the word 'love' to what either Nii or Kou feels for the other. There is a lot of fascination and sexual attraction both ways, to be sure - Kou is easily one of if not *the* hottest guy in the cast, and no one will ever convince me that Nii is not the sexiest thing to ever walk the earth in bunny slippers.
But yet again, there's so much more to it than simple lust. And confound it all, I've been working on this reply for a couple of days and it's turning into an essay. ^_^ So for the sake of comment-space, I'm going to re-format some of what I've said here with all the other words spilling onto the paper and put it all into a post once it's done because it's really more suited to that.
Let me just say, then, that you've really really warmed my heart with this comment, with taking a chance on something that you had those reservations about in the beginning. I don't think I could ask for any higher compliment than hearing that I've 'won you over' to this particular take on the subject. #^_^# Like I said, there's a bit of personal attachment involved in this pairing for me, which makes it rather dear to me somehow and which may well be why I keep at it despite the lack of interest in the fandom.
Anyway. Thank you, again. ^_^
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Date: 2005-06-09 06:12 am (UTC)A few times when I've seen Nii/Kou mentioned as a pairing, it seems to be referred to as a "romantic" pairing, or that they're "good" for each other, or some other implication that the relationship could somehow be a "healthy" one... and it's that idea, or the idea that I should accept such possibilities based on UST alone without a metric f-ton of justification, that really makes me bristle.
Things set pre-barcoded-Kou (like I assume this is) still have that ominous element of what's to come, and anything "romantic" between them set after that... well I guess I would look at it like trying to build a "healthy" relationship with a rapist in a situation where the rapist still holds power and doesn't repent. There may be a lot to explore in regret and betrayal issues between them, but if not handled well, it would end up feeling like an author's betrayal of both of them, I think.
Agh. I don't mean to sound so elitist, nor do I want to be at all discouraging -- just talking through my own issues and trying to track down more of my resistance to the pairing, even though I can also definitely acknowledge teh sexy about each of them and that there are so many intriguing concepts to explore between them.
Maybe part of it is that my first Kou-centric fic I read was KARose's "In My Father's House" in which Nii was both very in-character and very horrific in certain interactions with Kou, and that whole fic affected me very strongly. Like I alluded to in the other thread we've got going on tonight, I can accept and even really like and appreciate different contradictory takes on various characters, but I latch on to one specific interpretation of each character that I keep consistant in my own fics and fic ideas, and then I sometimes have a harder time connecting to others' versions of those characters even when I can acknowlege that they're just as close or closer to canon as the versions I connected with.
Agh, what a trainwreck of a sentence, I don't know if that was coherent at all...
Well, for an example, we both referred to MJJ's Arial recently, I'd forgotten the title and you reminded me. It is an incredibly powerful story, but at the same time, it's such a completely different Goujun than the one I know so well by now, that I have to step back and remind myself that my interpretation of Goujun is at least as far off from canon as hers is, in fact mine may be much further, we just go in different directions from that starting point. And I have to accept that with that much difference between them, the Goujun she writes is a different character than the one I write, with the same name and form and position, but a different person. And it's a very powerful story about that different person. But if I try to think about it as a story about the Goujun I know, I can't enjoy the story because I'm too busy arguing with it in my head -- or feeling insecure about how OOC I write him!
(Your Goujun feels much much closer to mine, only different in superficial things and situations, not such a completely different core identity.)
Wow, I'm babbly tonight! See I knew I was in a mood to write even if without story inspiration. Hope you don't mind!
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Date: 2005-08-04 02:30 am (UTC)the relationship could somehow be a "healthy" one... and it's that idea, or the idea that I should accept such possibilities based on UST alone without a metric f-ton of justification, that really makes me bristle
I tend to agree with you there. There's far too much that needs addressing to simply throw them together, and I don't think they could ever have anything that would be classified as 'healthy'. I mean...I suppose that it's possible they might, with enough effort and care on the author's part, achieve something past all the hate-power-frustration dynamic. Brad and Alias have been working on an extensive RP project with Nii and Kou for over a year now; and within the context of the fic-verse thus created I can accept the possibility that they are capable of coming to a point of mutual affection. But I still find myself doing that step-back these-are-different-versions-of-the-characters-than-I-write thing you mentioned; and it's only within that storyline thus far that I'm willing to consider it, and only because of all the depth of work and thought put into it and the development over time and the addressing of issues. But I'd still hesitate to label it healthy, and I doubt that Nii could ever truly be good for Kou. I like the idea that they could find a happy ending, sure; but it just doesn't strike me as very plausible. For all the obvious reasons. I made a brief attempt at writing them in something longer than a drabble that doesn't focus on all the Issues and Angst; the *only* way I could make it work for me was to throw it into the realm of complete crack and call it OOC for good measure. (shrug) So yeah. I can completely feel where you're coming from.
Erm. To completely change the topic for a moment, what exactly is a metric f-ton? I've seen both you and Tav use the term; clearly it implies massive quantities and/or amounts but I'd never heard the expression and was curious about where it might have come from.
Agh. I don't mean to sound so elitist, nor do I want to be at all discouraging
Not to worry. Like I said, I completely get where you're coming from. I agree with a lot of it too.
(Your Goujun feels much much closer to mine, only different in superficial things and situations, not such a completely different core identity.)
Ahhh, yes, Goujun. I'm so in awe of what you've done for him. How's 'Discovery' coming along for you, btw? Any luck with progress yet?
And y'know, I'm utterly in awe of MJJ's Goujun too, and all the history and tradition she's set him in. But he's so very very *stuffy*, too; and while it works for him in her hands, I find that I prefer to write him...well, certainly he's stiff and formal to a great degree but he's also a bit more...vulnerable, perhaps, underneath. More...more human, in a way. Metaphorically speaking. You give him that same sort of real-ness, of having flaws and insecurities that he keeps locked within; and that's probably why I'm so utterly in love with
himyour work.Anyway. Now to finish that NiiKou essay that's been simmering on the back burner for the past couple months. And finish that Kou/Goujun crack thingy that's been sitting around even longer.
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Date: 2005-08-05 01:35 am (UTC)Techinically, "1 metric tonne = 1.10231131 short tons" (according to Google's nifty conversion feature).
I think I forgot to tell you that I wrote to MMJ after finding her "Dragon Domestic Practices" and following fics about Goujun's brothers, and to the part when I mentioned that it's rare to find others giving so much attention to Goujun and his kind, she responded by recommending I should read your great Goujun fics. ~_^
Unfortunately (?) after getting to know Goujun's family and culture so well through those stories by MJJ, they seem so real and vivid to me that I don't know if I'll ever be able to write my previous "quantum variant" of Goujun. Heh, we'll see. I do still very much intend to finish "Discovery." Before I leave on vacation would be nice, but I don't know. Being patient with my brain...
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Date: 2005-08-09 04:39 am (UTC)I have to laugh. I have to, because that is precisely the state of mind I found myself in after 'Dragons & Kami', and then with 'Discovery' on top of that...well. Yeah. Me and my little unrequited-quietly-pining Goujun were feeling pretty insignificant. ^_^; The ideas that I was brewing, one about how he never approached Tenpou despite a desire to do so and then one about how it turned out after some time as lovers that Tenpou did not have the same depth of affection that Goujun held...they just kind of withered. At that point I'd never envisioned them in a full-out relationship that didn't drift apart or involve Kenren; and yet after your fic I couldn't see them any other way *except* companions and lovers eternally bonded. I couldn't stomach Hakuryu-sex, either; but after your uniquely enlightening perspective it's OMG I can't get enough of it. ^_^; Eheh. So. I suppose that what I'm getting at here is that now as time goes by I find those ideas that withered in the glory of your work, and then MJJ's work, are beginning to re-assert themselves and that maybe it just takes a little time passing to regain that faith that each of us has our own way of writing the same characters and that us little folks with our little stories are as valid as the writers who blow us away with their talent. So. I still want to see *your* quantum-variant Goujun, however he may have evolved from your initial concept; because Goujun in the hands of any talented writer is just a beautiful thing. And I have faith that your belief in yourself is stronger than any jaded half-interested medical opinion, because honestly--who knows you better than you? ^_^