#Sorry that this is garbage quality content is coming soon. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

randowolfwriter · 3 years

Photo

Been working on this forever, but here’s my take on the Older Warners au, mostly with Wakko and his family. Basically, this relates back to the rockstar!au I thought up for Wakko a while back where he joins a band a few years after the original Animaniacs ended, only now he also starts a family along the way. Currently, Wakko is a single dad raising fraternal twins named Jojo and Smakko and teaches them both how to be zany toons like him. Eventually, he moves his family back to the Warner Bros lot during the production of the Animaniacs reboot, where Yakko and Dot also help out with raising the twins.

More details about the story and the twins for anyone’s that curious, because I’ve been thinking about this au for a pretty long time.

Given that they’re toons, the Warners shouldn’t be able to age, and yet if they did then it would be completely unexplained. One day they woke up and realized that they were aging just like humans. Of course this haunts each of them, including Yakko, who does all that he can to reassure his siblings that eventually this will pass and they’ll go back to being kids again. However, that wasn’t the case, and the three learn to accept that growing up was just a part of life. Even so, age wasn’t going to stop the Warners from serving justice to the unjust and wrecking havoc on adults with massive egos, which would go on until their late teens.

During these years Wakko’s love for music also grows, and eventually he ends up forming a band with a few other toons around the studio. At first, their performances consisted of causing chaos around the lot and crashing production shoots-- infuriating Plotz to no end as the current CEO at the time-- yet when they noticed they were receiving positive attention from curious onlookers and angsty teens that liked their approach in fighting against the system, the band decided to become official. With this, Wakko is the first to leave the Warner Bros. lot and pursue his dreams of becoming a rockstar just like his idols. At first, he played as the band’s chaotic drummer, but as the years went on and he grew more confident, he also had the chance to man the front and sing a few solos for their band that would be named Toonz.

A few years later, Dot is the next to leave as she goes on to become a successful business woman and leave her child actor days behind. Yakko is the only one who ends up staying on the lot and continues to call the water tower home. At first, he started out as a comedian who did shows regularly, but as time went on and he became a little tone deaf with his audience, he started doing small acting bits around the studio. Yakko’s biggest achievement yet was creating a small web series where he posted educational songs to teach children certain topics, including a video that was an updated version of his iconic “countries of the world” song.

Meanwhile, Toonz takes the nation by storm. The attention they get is astounding, so much so, that they’re nearly invited everywhere in Hollywood, or if not then they’d crash it anyway. One party they crash in particular is where Wakko ends up meeting the twin’s mother. The party was held by a popular British singer named Jojo who was living in the states at the time and the twin’s mother so happened to be one of her stage managers. Jojo is unamused by the party crashers antics, yet tries to make the most of her night by introducing the twin’s mother to Wakko. One thing led to another and strangely the two began hitting it off, that is, until Wakko drunkenly sings “Wakko’s America” and crashes through a glass table.

Thank to Jojo and Toonz doing tons of collabs between each other, Wakko and the twins’ mother saw each other constantly. Eventually their random encounters turned into dating, and already two years had gone by. She was different than the other women he dated, and by that, really one of the only people who could put up with his cartoony antics. Not to mention, she also had a long-time hobby in drawing and sketching, which Wakko always loved posing as her muse. Eventually, Wakko decided to take their relationship to the next step and the two got married in Vegas.

One night, after Wakko and his wife returned from a long night of drinking and partying, the twins’ mother found herself drawing two twins that looked like Wakko from the original Animaniacs series. She didn’t now what possessed her to come up with them, but for some reason, she really felt like drawing them. As usual, Wakko being made of ink provided color for the sketch and gave them their black fur and red noses. All was going well until the twin’s mother accidentally got a paper cut and bled onto the page. After this, the two decided to call it a night and went to bed, unaware of what was happening to the page as they were sleeping.

Later that night, the two heard a loud crash coming from the kitchen. Afraid that it was a couple of robbers, Wakko goes to investigate, claiming that he wanted to greet his new “special” friends. What Wakko ends up finding instead are two little toon babies with puppy dog ears, cat-like tails, black furred with white faces, and tiny little pink noses that looked exactly like him. Upon further investigation, they soon discovered that the page they drew the twins on earlier was blank, which meant that for some reason, the twins came to life exactly the same way Wakko did (except they came out as babies.) Thus, Jojo and Smakko Warner were brought into the world and Wakko and his wife were now parents.

For the next decade, Wakko continued playing in the band while his wife stayed home to take care of the kids. Whether it’d be at practice or having yearly tours, Wakko unfortunately couldn’t be with his kids as much as he wanted to, yet, when he was able to spend some quality time with them, he gave it his all. He got to see what an adorable and excitable girl Jojo was, what a mischievous nature she held in courtesy of the Warner name, and what a big heart she had for those around her. As for Smakko, though he was timid and shy he was also very inquisitive, and with inheriting his Daddoo’s toon abilities the boy was practically the spitting image of him.

For years, it seemed as if nothing could tear the family apart. Sure, the twins had their moments, as well as most kids did; if anything they were more well behaved than the father they came from. Not only that, but barely were there any arguments or secrets kept between parents and children. Yet, nothing could have prepared Wakko for the day his wife died in a tragic accident, leaving him alone as a single father. Knowing that the twins had no one else to care for them, Wakko retired from the band to commit himself full-time in raising Jojo and Smakko.

A year later, Wakko buys an RV and decides to take his kids on the road. He wanted to teach them everything he knew when they were his age, get the chance to see the world, and help them get in touch with their toon heritage. Though Jojo was more than excited to spend time with her Daddoo as much as possible, Smakko on the other other hand was less than thrilled. All the boy wanted was for things to return back to normal; when their mother was always around and their Daddoo seemed more concerned with his band.

Months into this family entourage, and Wakko gets a call from Yakko: Animaniacs was returning, and they wanted all three of the Warner siblings to come back. With this, Wakko moves the twins to the Warner Bros. lot and gives them the chance to see where he grew up. They move into the water tower with Yakko, who is more than happy as he’s been rather lonesome for the last two decades. Dot however is a little less than compliant to return to her roots, but eventually she warms up to the idea that the reboot would be willing to work with a more mature version of herself. Now that the three Warner siblings were reunited plus two, the family works together to bring back the joy and laughter that the original series gave to many. Though they’re a lot older, the three siblings are convinced they still have it in them. Eventually once the reboot runs its course, Wakko intends to get him and the kids back on the road, but for now, they’re content where they’re at.

Now, about the twins!

Jojo Warner:

Birthday: June 8th, 2009 (11 years old)

Fraternal twin sister to Smakko.

Since the parents were brought together by the singer, Jojo, she had the honor of being the girl’s godparent. With this, she named the baby after herself in defense of saying that “Jojo” wasn’t her real name, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be their daughter’s.

Her ears are bigger than any of the other Warners, which is why they usually need to be tied back. Not like they cover her eyes or anything, but when she was little she used to chew on them constantly, causing concern for the new parents.

The heart hair tie she wears is from her mother and she treasures it dearly.

Out of both her parents, she has a stronger relationship with her Daddoo due to their mischievous and childlike personalities.

Just like Wakko, she has a ravenous appetite that only got bigger with age. As a toddler, if she didn’t get to eat right away, she would run around the house and throw a giant tantrum until she got her way. Sometimes, she still has a tendency to do this if her heart is set on something.

The only Disney movie she’s ever seen is Frozen, which proved her Daddoo’s point about them being mindless garbage when she wouldn’t stop singing Let It Go for months. Because of this, the kids were banned from seeing anymore Disney films.

When she was five, she ripped off Wakko’s tail while rough housing with it. Though it wasn’t that big of a deal thanks to Wakko being part salamander, that didn’t stop him from tricking Jojo into thinking she tore it off for good. Of course, the prank went too far when Jojo broke down in tears and begged over and over about how sorry she was, so Wakko finally decided to show his kids their amazing regenerating abilities and grew his tail back. Smakko immediately threw up after this. (I swear, that tail scene in the reboot was hella nasty)

One of her favorite hobbies is collecting weird things she finds on her adventures, whether it be a strangely shaped rock, a piece of trash, and yes, she even still has her Daddoo’s tail.

Another one of her favorite hobbies is playing with the small guitar her Daddoo gave her. On warm summer nights, Wakko and Jojo will sit on the roof of the RV or the water tower and sing into the night. Some of their favorites include songs by the Beatles, or songs by various rock groups. While her Daddoo strums on an electric guitar, she comes in with her acoustic to create a beautiful yet strange harmony. She hopes to be the lead singer of her own band one day.

Despite living up to the Warner name, Jojo didn’t inherit any of their cartoon abilities, which bugs her to this day. The only way she can keep up with her family’s antics is by engaging in witty banter and annoying the heck out of her victims. Sort of a mixture of Yakko and Dot’s form of humor.

She gets along well with her Uncle Yakko since both of them can’t keep their mouths shut. During the Warners’ escapades, she looks to Yakko on how to strengthen her form of humor.

As for her Aunt Dot, the two are slowly forming a relationship. Due to Jojo’s tomboyish nature, Dot has a harder time getting on her level of understanding-- though that doesn’t mean the two don’t confide in each other if they ever need to rant about the boys of the family.

She’s considered the leader of the twins due to being more confident and does most of the talking during their escapades.

She’s also very social, which leads her wanting to engage in more activities with kids her age such as going to school or trying to find her own niche of friends. Luckily, she ends up finding her own group when she befriends some of the child stars at the Warner Bros. studio.

Since her mother’s death, she believes that her mother looks down on them from the brightest star in the sky and grants them wishes. Every night, Jojo makes the same exact wish, not for herself but for her family: She wishes for Wakko to have all the happiness in the world while she wishes for Smakko to be more confident in himself.

Smakko Warner:

Birthday: June 8th, 2009 (11 years old)

Basically my take on the forgotten character, Smakky from the original drafts of the Warners but like, less angry and more anxious.

He was a fussy baby. Most nights, he refused to be left alone in his crib and cried for hours into the night until his parents surrendered and consoled him. Usually this was an inconvenience for both Wakko and his wife, as well as the neighbors when they used to live in an apartment. One night, Wakko nearly got in a fight with a neighbor after they complained about the child’s insistent crying.

Out of both parents, he favors his mother the most. Her soft voice and reassuring words were always his form of comfort throughout his childhood. Due to Wakko always practicing with the band or going on tours, Smakko didn’t gain that much of a connection with him. Most of the time, Smakko found his Daddoo to be a little scary due to his brash cartoon nature.

Out of both twins he’s the shyest and will usually cling onto his family members whenever he meets someone new. He also has a tendency to get nervous real easily. Opponents are to be wary when they back him into a corner, lest they want to face his fearful wrath.

Unlike his sister, his toon abilities appeared the minute he was born. Upon naming him, he summoned a baby rattle and smacked his uncle on the head with it until he was given back to his mother. Hence, the boy was given the name “Smakko.”

Nowadays, the boy is able to summon mallets to his whim, cream pies to his choosing, and is able to teleport from place to place— however, this only happens whenever he’s frightened or really stressed. If anyone gets him extremely anxious, they either get pounded with a mallet or blown up with dynamite. In a way, his cartoon abilities act as a defensive reflex.

Another conundrum the parents faced during Smakko’s first years was being able to keep track of him. Most of the time, the boy would hide constantly either because he felt uncomfortable or something scared him. Sometimes, he’d end up in the most bizarre places such as in the freezer, in a load of laundry, or even in the ceiling. The only reason his parents knew where to find him was if they heard crying.

While his sister’s form of comedy is vocal, his is more physical like his Daddoo’s.

He also has a really small appetite compared to his Daddoo and sister. Most days, he can last with just a bowl of cereal up until dinner. He’s just not as passionate about eating like the rest of his family. Adding onto that, he’s a vegetarian. He gets sick at the thought of eating meat or harming animals to get his meal.

He’s very fond of animals, mostly smaller animals that he can pick up. He’s considered many times getting a pet, but due to the Warners active lifestyle, it’s something that’ll have to wait. As for now, he’ll help move bugs from getting crushed or summon food for hungry strays. (Rita and Runt go to him constantly for free food.)

He likes his Aunt Dot more than his Uncle Yakko. His uncle talks too much which overwhelms him. Meanwhile, Dot has that toned down personality that sort of resembles his mother’s, that is, until her brothers get her riled up.

Though Smakko loves his family, sometimes their crazy antics can get a little much. He misses his mother dearly considering that she was the only form of normalcy in his life. Now that she’s gone, he feels rather lost and doesn’t know how to open up to his Daddoo. Wakko on the other hand tries all that he can to calm himself around Smakko and assures him that his Dadoo will always be there for him. However, the boy’s anxiety is one that Wakko will have to learn to work with.

#animaniacs #yakko warner #yakko #wakko warner #wakko #dot warner #dot #jojo warner #smakko warner #older warners au #Rocking that Solo #older yakko #older wakko #older dot #this has legit been in my drafts forever #omg here we go!!#also an older warner au wow how original op #blood tw #not a whole lot but incase people feel uncomfy about papercuts

15 notes · View notes

ripley-triton · 3 years

Text

puckley | shall we...?

pairing - ripley triton & puck sherman ( @pucksherman )

time - during winter break

setting - a christmas party

summary - ripley and puck get drunk at a party, play games and discover mistletoe hanging above them.

puck:

It was the happiest season of all, at least after as many drinks as Puck had it was. He was just getting to that buzzing feeling in the back of his skull, and man. Was it great. The party hadn’t been all that bad, either. Even if it was filled with less environmentally conscious people that were leaving their red Solo cups lying around. Sober Puck would have gone around and cleaned them up, but he was neither sober, nor the host so the task went ignored -- at least for the time being. Later on he’d probably pick up what he could find, but at the moment all he cared about finding was his friends. Well, that and maybe another cup of rum and coke, and luckily he didn’t have to go far to find that one. Finding his way into the kitchen, he found a mostly full can of cola that still had fizz which he figured was still alright and emptied it into his cup. The rum wasn’t too far behind and he generously added that to his drink. Now all that was left was to find a friendly face. “Ripley!” Puck held his drink up a bit so as to avoid spilling it as he moved through the crowd. “Rip! C’mere! I made you something!”

ripley:

Ripley was ready for a party. She had to go home soon and she wasn't ready to get drowned out by the swarm of her family. So before was going to leave she was going to have as much fun as she could, naturally. Though the mess everyone was making couldn't go unnoticed. Ripley held her own cup filled with beer, the stuff was gross but that was never the point of drinking, right? She sipped on it as she tilted over to pick up some of the trash she found on the ground, stumbling a little, but she managed! Pulling the drink back to her lips she held onto the cup with her mouth while she threw the trash away when she heard her name being called from across the room. Her head lifted up, seeing her friend approaching her. She grabbed the cup and smiled as she walked over to him. "Puck!" She exclaimed excitedly. She loved her friends insanely and was so thrilled to see him there. "What's up?"

puck:

Of course she was picking up the trash -- she was so much better than him, even in her inebriated state she was making the world a better place. Puck honestly thought the world was better just because she was in it, she didn’t even need to try cleaning it up to accomplish that. And her smile always made him smile, although at the moment it was a slightly goofy one as they met in the middle. “I made this for you,” he said proudly, beaming from ear to ear. Until he noticed the drink in her hand. But then! A brilliant idea! “Oh, you already got a drink. Here! Let’s trade!” Puck didn’t even wait for permission, just pushed the drink he brought into her hand, and with his other he took the other up out of her grasp. “So whatcha doin’?” What she was doing had been obvious, trying to clean up after the filthy party-goers. But that didn’t stop him from asking and immediately offering his services. “Need some help? There’s a lot of cups on the ground.”

ripley:

Just like that the entire mood of hers for the night shifted. She was with her best friend and she always had a good time with him. It never failed no matter what they were doing. She embraced him briefly with a kiss to his cheek before she pulled away. Ripley had always been super touchy and close with all of her friends, probably coming from such a large family with no personal boundaries. "oh, sweet!" She exclaimed when he showed her his surprise for her. Then suddenly her drink was being taken from her hand and his drink was being put in her other. Without missing a beat, the cup was already tilted back as she took a swig of the contents from in the cup. Squeezing her eyes tight from the warm burn down her throat, then shaking her head to bring her back to the conversation. "Yes! These people are absolutely careless. They're just leaving the damn things everywhere!" Her eyes rolled as she crouched down to pick up a few that were tossed randomly by the drunk party-goers.

puck:

Puck was very much used to the affection that Ripley tended to show to both him and Beau; but tonight, and probably because of the booze, it hit different and he couldn’t stop the grin on his face from becoming more idiotic and lopsided as he backed away from her embrace. He went to take a drink from his newly acquired cup when she tipped hers back, although instead of enjoying it he nearly gagged at the sudden switch from liquor to beer. “Woah,” he coughed, “You’d think they’d spring for a better tasting beer at least.” But the quality of beer wasn’t the important part -- cleaning up was. Puck absolutely agreed that the other party-goers were careless; he hadn’t seen that much garbage in one place since he looked up the Great Pacific garbage patch. “Maybe we can make it more fun, like make a game out of it. Oh, you know what? How about for every time we toss a cup into the basket,” he held up the cup containing beer that he’d gotten in the switch, “We take a shot.”

ripley:

A lingering thought trailed Ripley's mind before it was very quickly lost right after she'd planted the kiss on Puck's cheek. Thinking while getting drunk was not an easy task. Especially while being half concerned with the growing number of trash that was being littered as the night carried on. Her head shook at Puck's comment about the beer. The taste is awful, worse than the liquor, but it was her go to drink. "I'm not surprised. They're very clearly not thoughtful." She could feel the the effects of the alcohol slowly creeping in. She'd stood and held the cups she picked up from the ground, nodding her head to his idea. It'd be a good way help keep their fun going while also cleaning up. "hell yeah! That's an awesome idea." she looked around to find a good distance from the trash for them to shoot from. "Hmmmm about here?" Ripley took one last guage of the place before she looked at Puck for his approval.

puck:

“Good as a spot as any,” Puck replied, although he hadn’t really taken the time to scope out the area to really know that. He was really just going along with anything Ripley said, and if she thought the spot was good he would trust her judgement. “I know usually it’s ladies first, but…” he drew out the word as he got their “hoop” ready and raced back to stand next to her. “I’m totally taking it. Sorry, Rip.” Puck was no sports star, but he wasn’t half bad at basketball; the chance to show off his skills was enticing to him. Well, that and the fact that he couldn’t keep drinking if he didn’t make the shot. Bending his knees slightly, he pulled his hands back and gently tossed a cup towards the trash can. Usually he wouldn’t be surprised if he got it in, but in his slightly inebriated state it was a little bit of a shock to see the cup tip in -- even if it was just barely. That didn’t stop Puck from striking a victory pose, pumping his fist in the air before taking his drink. “Hell yeah, that’s how it’s done!”

ripley:

Once the spot was designated, Ripley's attention was torn to look for more cups surrounding them. It wasn't hard to find any, party-goers were tragically unbothered by the mess they're leaving behind for no one to pick up. She grabbed a few while Puck was setting up their basket, putting them on a counter next to them. "Whatever, you can take first shot. But I'm still gonna totally crush you." She laughed as she rested against the frame of the doorway, watching him take his first shot. She nearly took a drink from her own cup before remembering the rules. She needs a shot to win but she wasn't so much worried about that. Ripley considered herself to be quite athletic, but she was pretty tipsy. "Oh shit!" She cheered when Puck made his basket. Her cup raising, "Okay okay, nice first shot. Buuuut it's my turn." Grabbing one of the trash cups she stands back and gauges the distance then taking a shot to the trash can, it bouncing off the back rim and dropping inside. She turns, flipping her hair for 'style points'. Her hand reached to lift her own cup to take a swig of her liquor. "Can't wait to get fucked up."

puck:

“Okay, okay,” Puck rolled his eyes playfully as she tossed her hair back, giving her a slow and sarcastic round of applause. “We get it, you’re amazing. No need to flaunt it.” Although that “flaunting” was the exact same confidence he loved about Ripley. Never had he met someone that exuded so much confidence in themselves; and as confident as he tended to be, he knew he wasn’t nearly on her level and he aspired to be. “Okay, Miss Alcoholic, chill out. You’ll get a drink soon enough. But for now, time for the master to take his shot.” He took a moment to line up his shot and then tossed the cup, praying that it made it’s way in. It bounced off the edge, and for a moment he was sure it was going to drop into the trash can… but instead it fell the opposite way and back to the floor. “Dammit!” Puck groaned, raking his fingers through his hair before resting his hands at the nape of his neck and letting his head fall back. And that was when he saw it. “Uh, Rip? You notice that there before? You see it, right? Or am I just so drunk that I’m hallucinating?”

ripley:

"You're right, I am amazing." Ripley laughed, holding her hand under her chin as she looked at Puck. Her eyes batting for an added effect, she was now being extra on purpose just to tease him. "Too bad I didn't hear you say anything else after that." Her comebacks were being sullied by the effect of the alcohol in her system, the thought processing not turning as creatively. She loved messing with her friends, especially Puck. He always made her laugh. It was one of her favorite things about him, aside for how he cares so much about.... well everything really. She rolled her eyes at his comment, calling her an alcoholic. "yeah yeah yeah, go ahead 'master'" She stood next to him, leaning into the doorframe while she watched him take his shot. "oh no, the master struck out!" she raised her hands up in surprise after watching the cup fall onto the ground. She was just about to go get the cup when he called her name. "Seen what?" Following the trail of where he was looking, she was able to see the mistletoe hanging above them. Had they been under that the whole time? "Hallucinating mistletoe would invite its own questions. But nope, I see it too." She paused for a second and maybe it was the alcohol or just the tradition that shouldn't go ignored. Her shoulders shrugged for a second before her arms crossed over her chest. "So... should we do it?" The question meant to come off as nonchalant, but she honestly couldn't tell if that's how it came out. Now that the opportunity was presenting itself, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to kiss him.

puck:

Puck almost missed the question he was so entranced by the plant hanging above them. It registered after a moment, and he couldn’t help the slightly lopsided smirk that crossed his face. Almost as if he was replying with an “obviously” although he gave no verbal response. At first anyway. It wasn’t until he’d seen the look on her face that he rethought his answer. He’d only been about to say ‘yes’ because of the silly tradition; after all, what was one silly, stupid kiss between friends. But the expression she wore, one he couldn’t read, threw him for a loop. What was she trying to say? That she hated the thought? He wouldn’t blame her if that was the case, honestly. It was a tedious line to cross, one that could ruin their entire relationship. He hated that thought too. Ripley meant the world to him, if their friendship ended over a silly, stupid tradition he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. But he couldn’t help but wonder, ‘what if it didn’t ruin it though?’ His mind then flashed to the missing part of their trio -- if it didn’t ruin his and Ripley’s relationship, what would that mean for Beau? Would he think himself a third wheel? ‘This is entirely too much overthinking,’ Puck thought, shaking his head to stop himself from going further. It was just a stupid kiss, one they didn’t even have to share. Unless… did Ripley want to and that was what the look meant? Great. *More *overthinking. It made his head hurt, but that could be blamed on the many, many drinks he’d had. Besides, he knew there was only one way to stop the questions, and that was to ask one of them. “Uh, do you want to?”

ripley:

Ripley then took a second to think. Puck had seemed a little hesitant and the drunken buzz she was feeling was slowly going away. Not significant enough, but enough to turn on the thinking portion of her brain. She hadn't considering anything before she'd said the words. Of course she wanted to. Kissing Puck, it'd be just so easy for them to kiss right now. But the hesitancy, did that mean he didn't want to? Did she go too far? Ripley tended to go to far with things. She's an action person. Do now, think later. He was her rock in that way. Many of her thoughts kept bringing her back to the same place. "I do." she nodded her head a little, softly chewing on her bottom lip, a worried eyebrow raising as she watched for his expressions. the space between them shortening subconsciously. "do you want to?"

puck:

Her answer left him floored. Ripley really wanted to kiss him? That was something Puck hadn't been expecting to hear, nor had he expected the light fluttery feeling in his chest when she gave that answer. He’d thought about it sure, with a girl as cool and fun (not to mention as gorgeous) as Ripley, how could you not think about that sort of thing? But their friendship had always been the most important thing to him, so he tried to keep those thoughts at a minimum. Tonight though, it was hard to keep them at bay. Especially when she was inching closer to him. Puck had never been a nervous person, but he could feel them starting to make themselves at home as he followed her lead and took his own small step forward. Drawing in a short breath, he gave a nod as he answered, “Yeah.”

ripley:

Maybe it was the drinks that stayed swirling in her system or maybe it was the fact that he'd just said he wanted to kiss her. Either way Ripley felt a palpation in her chest. He was standing so close to him she could touch him without much of any effort. The few thoughts that floated through her head coming to a quick stop as she braced herself to lean fully into the kiss. It didn't take long for Ripley to forget about everything else around her. Until a few very drunk people walked through the hall joking around next to them. She broke the kiss after one of them stumbled into both Puck and Ripley. Feeling like her heart was racing u controllably, she'd quickly deflected by moving from the loud partiers and grabbing her to cup. She chugged from the plastic red cup and started dancing, pulling Puck with her.

#{ para }#puck

1 note · View note

qm-vox · 5 years

Text

The Far Realms vs. Obyriths: Cosmic Horror in D&D

Shout-out, once again, to Afroakuma, from whom I learned most of the material I’m about to explain and with whom I’ve had many fascinating discussions about this topic.

It’s ya boi Vox, back at it to complain about RPG shit in an educational fashion again. Remember when I did a whole article about (evil) gods in D&D, arguing that they have more potential than to be used like supervillains? We’re gonna do that again, but this time with incorporating cosmic horror elements into your D&D campaign. Some of this advice may also be useful for games similar to D&D but for the sake of my own sanity I’m gonna confine myself to the one system or I’m gonna be here until my kids are in college.

This article will be broken down into three parts: an overview of cosmic horror’s origin and original thesis (in which we travel my favorite magical land, Full And Complete Context), a breakdown of the Far Realms in D&D (including older takes from late 2e & 3.5, how those changed in 4e, and their ambiguous state in 5e) & how you might use them for a cosmic horror campaign, and a breakdown of Obyriths in D&D and how you might use them in your campaign.

No discussion of cosmic horror is complete without some Content Warnings. Right up front: cosmic horror has its roots in extremely racist fiction, and I’m going to be talking about that straight-up. Also included in this article will be body horror, descriptions of mind control and mental corruption, supernaturally-induced madness, violence, and medical horror, among other things. This is a genre that hit the ‘fuck shit up’ button with its face on fuckin’ Zero Day and does that but again every time we successfully write something in it. Additionally, spoilers for some of Lovecraft’s work will be in here, with absolutely no tags and no warnings before they happen. You have been warned; do as thou wilt.

HP Does A Racism - Origins Of Cosmic Horror

Yeah, I’m about to be like that about it.

In the beginning there was Howard Phillips Lovecraft, an absolute garbage fire of a human being whose personal issues are such a knotted mess that I’m half-sure that the concept of the Ouroboros is just the echo of his bullshit reaching backwards through time. Like many authors of his time, Howie Love here was born into significant wealth, and while his education would be cut short (he had some manner of health problem in high school that ended his attempts at schooling) it was pretty high-quality, as it tends to be when you’re rich and white in the late 1800s. When he began writing his most famous body of work, Lovecraft had three attributes which would shape it: EXTREME racism, an incredible love for the works of Edgar Allen Poe, and every fucking phobia ever turned loose on God’s green Earth.

If you want to know more about that first point, try looking up what he named his cat; Lovecraft was so racist that even other racists thought he was too racist. Mother fucker was so racist that he wrote about the dangers of contaminating one’s bloodline with French-Canadians. His racism made it into all of his works in some way, shape, or form; many had themes of miscegenation, plenty included people of color only as deranged cultists of terrible powers, and as we’ll get into later in this segment the very racism that caused him to do these things also made him write the...let’s say ‘villains’ for lack of a better term, of his ongoing body of work as thinly-veiled stand-ins for white people.

No, really.

Lovecraft’s early work included a few short stories in the American Gothic style, the most famous of which is The Rats in the Walls. It’s a fairly classic story as far as those go, but Howie Love would soon abandon American Gothic for the genre he founded and defined: cosmic horror. Keep the racism and phobias in mind going forward, they’re about to become real important.

Howie Love Clowns On Himself - Themes And Thesis Of Cosmic Horror

While Dagon is generally accepted as the ‘first’ cosmic horror story, I prefer The Colour Out Of Space as the definitive example of the original thesis of cosmic horror at its most clean and clear (it’s also the work of Lovecraft’s that has aged the best; I highly suggest it if you haven’t read it yet!). In it, an alien presence - arguably but not necessarily an entity - crash-lands outside the fictional town of Arkham. Our narrator, a surveyor, coldly investigates the horrors that occur after and learns the sorry tale of a family destroyed by this alien presence as it blights their land, corrupts their bodies, and drives them to madness. The presence leaves, but not wholly; a fragment of itself remains behind, alongside the chilling possibility of a repeat performance.

The Colour Out Of Space, and indeed most of Howie Love’s work, was written at a time in the United States and the United Kingdom where human exceptionalism was the norm. Humans were not merely important, but special, chosen, exalted in nature and placed in a universe whose sole purpose was to be the stage for our domination. The Colour Out Of Space proposed a different idea: that we ain’t shit. Not only is humanity not exalted, but humanity is insignificant, existing at the mercy of fate, able to be casually annihilated at any time by forces we do not understand. It was a shocking proposal when it was published, and though the zeitgeist that gave it power has faded (most people realize we ain’t shit these days, can’t imagine how that fucking happened) it still resonates with many people.

The later works that defined the Cthulu Mythos would build on this theme, introducing powerful beings which claim dominion of Earth or of all reality. You’ve probably heard of most of them - Cthulu is the big one, of course, but there’s also Yog-Sothoth (The Dunwich Horror), Azazoth, Catboi Slim (Nyarthalotep), and many more, not all of which were written by Lovecraft himself. These beings are gods, or else so far above humanity that the difference is academic, and this brings us to the second defining theme of cosmic horror that Lovecraft would lay out, that of forbidden knowledge.

Protagonists in Howie Love’s stories have a tendency to lose their minds. Later authors would chalk this up to the idea that witnessing these gods or their works is so inherently horrifying that the mind simply snaps in their presence, or even that these gods are bound up in the concept of madness (this second one is a rather incompetent reading, not that I’m thinking of any PAIZO in particular that just ran with it in their RPG setting), but Howard’s own work doesn’t always bear that out. The protagonist of Call of Cthulu is not driven mad by that being - he is driven towards the brink by the realization that the Cult is still out there (and coming for his life), and that Cthulu will only rise again. Our viewpoint character in At The Mountains Of Madness realizes he has committed unspeakable atrocities on living beings much like himself by mistake, and that if further explorers come to disturb their slumber they will only repeat the same errors and lead to mankind’s annihilation. It’s not just that these ancient powers are terrifying or even that they are alien, but that to comprehend them is to understand that humans are so far beneath them that their attitude towards us cannot be thought of as ‘benevolent or ‘malevolent’, because we are beneath their notice, lesser in comparison than even a bacterium. In such a context, all humans do is consume resources better used by our superiors, and thus our existence is a profanity upon the divine. The only moral action, the stories argue, is self-annihilation; only ignorance permits us to justify our own existence to ourselves.

Sound familiar? Almost like this is the exact argument chucklefuck racists make about the existence of people of color, Jews, and anyone else they happen to not like? Yeah. This is the part where Lovecraft accidentally made himself the villain of his own work. Congratulations Howie, you played yourself. And since his audience was largely fellow white men also hard up on that whole racism thing, this idea of human profanity tapped a deep well of anxiety. I’m not about to argue that racism is over (it isn’t) and that’s why this vision of cosmic horror is less popular; indeed, it’s retained a pretty solid cult (heh) following, in part because the idea of such beings is inherently kinda terrifying. But I’d be remiss not to bring up the fact that this terror has its roots in racism, so...there you have it.

Other authors also built on the Cthulu Mythos, with Lovecraft’s enthusiastic blessing. These days their works tend to be mistakenly attributed to Howie Love himself, but that’s not actually his fault; they were published on their own, under their own authors’ names, and as far as we can tell Howard never tried to take the credit. These other authors had a tendency to substitute the indifferent divinity and corrupted humans of Lovecraft’s work with direct malice; their vision of these god-like beings was one in which they noticed humanity and did harm to it, creating a movement away from Howie Love’s original thesis (”human insignificance will lead to the unimportant and unmarked event of our destruction” & “seeking knowledge can only lead to self-annihilation”) during his life which only picked up momentum after his death. Indeed, most modern attempts at Lovecraftian horror mimic this overt malevolence, often without even lip service to the original thesis. It’s not necessarily an unworkable angle of horror, and it definitely has bones in with its origins; “God is real and He hates you personally” is a terrifying idea! But this movement away from the cold indifference of stories like The Colour Out Of Space definitely contributed to the current climate of...sloppy adaptations, let’s say.

Not that I’m thinking of any Paizo in particular.

So Should I Use Mythos Content Directly In My D&D Game Or What?

No, because I will cry and tell everyone that you punched my children and kidnapped my girlfriends.

More helpfully, probably not. The presence of other divinities, but especially evil divinities like Erythnul (Greyhawk) or Malar (Forgotten Realms) makes the thematics of cosmic horror pretty fucking weird. If you really wanted to, your best bet is to not use the published system of divinity at all (see the previously-linked article, up at the top of this one) and instead make Lovecraft’s gods the setting’s only gods. That means asking yourself some hard questions about clerics in your game world and possibly divine magic in general - that’s a separate article though - and even then you’re in for a rough row to hoe. D&D’s characters tend to be competent, dynamic, empowered - a far cry from the educated but otherwise fairly helpless protagonists on which cosmic horror tends to trade. Themes of futility in the face of incomprehensible beings don’t really make for good D&D most of the time, not when so much of the system (any edition, it doesn’t matter) is set up to create and reward cunning and heroic struggle. Classic cosmic horror, in the original proposed form, is not a good fit.

Thankfully, we have two solutions to give you what you crave in-house. Let’s start with the one that is somehow both the closer fit and the further fit.

You Have Fucked Up - The Far Realm Overview

Originally introduced in late AD&D 2e, the Far Realm as an idea hit its stride during 3.0/3.5 before getting a major rework as part of 4e’s cosmology, where it became the source of most/all aberrations. We’re gonna go ahead and pretend 4e didn’t happen, not because 4e is bad (and for the love of fuck please don’t start an edition war on my cosmic horror post) but because 4e’s cosmology just doesn’t really fit in with any of the rest. 1e <-> 3.5 is more or less coherent and you can beat 5e into line with a wrench and some harsh language, but 4e...well, anyway.

The Far Realms is outside reality. No, not in another dimension, we know what those are - those are the Planes. It’s outside reality; it is Somewhere Else. “It” is probably even the wrong term, since by definition any place (”place”) that isn’t the multiverse as D&D knows it is the Far Realm. To paraphrase Afroakuma, if the Great Wheel is a Lego brick, the Far Realm is a giant squid; if the Great Wheel is a bowl of Fruit Loops, the Far Realm is the theory that intelligences from Pluto rig the results of major sporting events. The contexts are not compatible. These two things do not go together in any way. Combining the two can only end in sorrow and woe.

So mortals try to combine the two all the time, because we’re dipshits like that.

Every now and again, some truly, monumentally stupid person - usually but not always someone inside reality - breaches the skin that contains reality inside itself, and lets in the essence of Outside. This is a phenomenally bad idea; the immediate result is corruption in both directions as the essence of each form of reality bleeds into the other. Both attempt to ‘scab’ the breach, translating the foreign substances and beings into something more like the reality they have moved to. If a breach happens, there is one of three outcomes. If you are very, very lucky, no being on the other side notices the breach, and you’ve ‘merely’ blighted and corrupted a vast stretch of land, tainting it with something sort of like, but not enough like, Chaos and Evil for millennia to come - maybe even forever. If you’re not lucky, a being on the other side notices the breach and acts to seal it, the ripple of which causes you to not have a nation or continent any more as said corruption absolutely consumes the lands in which you live. And if you are phenomenally unlucky, the being on the other side is just as stupid as you are, and it comes through. The last time that happened the original Gnomish pantheon got murdered. Their homeworld doesn’t exist any more.

There is no ‘good’ outcome. This is the repeated and absolute theme of the Far Realms; whatever your reasons for getting involved with them, whatever you wanted, whatever you were seeking, you don’t get it. Mortals fuck with the Far Realms because our inability to comprehend them leads us to think of them like things we can experience. The scabbed-over beings we meet that are from there (Psuedonatural creatures; see the Alienist prestige class in Tome & Blood and Complete Arcane, as well as the bigger version in the Epic Level Handbook) are Chaotic Evil because that is how reality translates them. They aren’t Chaos, they’re another reality, and their unwilling and unwitting corruption of all around them gets redefined as Chaotic Evil in order to reduce their damage to all of existence to a manageable fucking level. Were you seeking the Far Realms in order to harness power for great change? Get fucked, you can’t control what happens. Were you seeking magical power? Get fucked; the reason people go mad when exposed to the Far Realms isn’t just that the knowledge they gain makes no sense, it’s that the complete lack of context means all of the stuff you killed and stole and lied and cheated for is more or less completely goddamn useless. Trying to escape existence for some reason? One, death is faster, but two, hope you enjoy suffering the entire time you die - and that’s if the breach stays open long enough for you to be able to enjoy death as a concept before you get sealed away in a place where mortality doesn’t meaningfully exist.

You don’t get what you want. This was a bad idea. You fucked up.

5e, the most recent edition of D&D, mainly continues this trend. It has suggestions of the lazier interpretation of Lovecraft’s work tied to the Far Realms, which I heartily suggest you ignore, but some of the other ideas are phenomenal. The Great Old Ones Pact for Warlock has one in particular that I like quite a bit, which suggests that the Warlock-to-be created an unintended connection to a Far Realms intelligence and gained power against both of their wills and possibly without the intelligence in question even noticing. You don’t need to change a lot in 5e’s run to bring out the extant themes of the Far Realms - though admittedly this is greatly assisted by the fact that 5e barely has any Far Realms content to begin with, so there’s not a lot to edit. That also means there’s not a lot to use, so if you want to use Far Realms stuff in 5e you’re gonna have to get ready to spend a lot of time making your own. Which brings us to...

Who The Fuck Funded This Research?!? - Using The Far Realms In Your Game

Considering that all-important theme - “this was a bad idea” - the Far Realms are likely to be antagonistic in nature in your game, even if ‘antagonistic’ isn’t the right term. Published adventures have used Far Realms content as a sort of backdrop (Firestorm Peak comes to mind here) before, and you can easily make Far Realms creatures a more direct problem for your PCs by centering the campaign around a cult or research team attempting to cause a new breach. This could be a great time to engage with player-side themes such as the ethics of magic use, the cost of power, and the burden of responsibility for said power, assuming your group is down for it. Even if they’re not, horrifying monstrosities that by definition have no place in this universe are great to kick in the head(s).

What motivates people to cause a breach? Mainly stupidity, but the special kind of stupidity you only get when someone is highly educated and deeply intelligent. For awhile, in the real world, there was a burst of designers making D20 heartbreakers - successors to D&D 3.5 meant to fix its many catastrophic flaws. Each person thought they had it, the secret to make the system they both loved and hated finally function, and they were all wrong. Causing a breach into the Far Realms is like that. Every sign points to it being a bad idea. Reading the research and spells of the last people who tried it reveals that it’s a bad idea. All of the diaries and primary sources of those who did it and those who stopped them say it’s a bad idea, but that’s okay because I, Wizardhat von Dipshit, am not like those fools. I will be more careful, and the power to reshape the Planes will be mine!

The easiest way to make Far Realms creatures for use in your campaign is to start with an existing monster and fuck it up; rearrange its abilities (adding or emphasizing mental attacks and psychic damage, if you can), alter its physical form, and generally just make that shit wrong and fill its blood with spiders. If you want to get more alien from there or make something original, the best guideline I can offer for you is that aboleths were the result of Far Realms taint in the beginning of this reality (it’s telling that the closest thing reality could translate their progenitor into was a Greater Deity).

No one wants power for its own sake, of course, but what your antagonist actually wants is more or less irrelevant because the important bit is that they had every chance to know better and they’re about to make this bad decision on purpose anyway. This is how the Far Realms brings out cosmic horror themes in a heroic context; power that is beyond both mortal comprehension and control, which has no place in this reality and recoils from us as violently as we recoil from it. Like Lovecraft, whose stories revealed a deep cynicism about knowledge and science, your antagonists will be erudite individuals whose ruinous plans are only possible because of what they have learned and, in turn, chosen to ignore. If nothing is done, unstoppable catastrophe will be unleashed, and with it will come madness and desolation. If only some heroes were on hand, eh?

The disconnect the Far Realms has from classic cosmic horror is also the source of why they fit; they don’t belong here. In Lovecraft’s work, it’s humanity that doesn’t belong - we are a blight upon the rightful property of higher beings. The Far Realms are instead an intrusion, something from Elsewhere which doesn’t want to be here as much as we don’t want it here. That helps those classic cosmic horror themes work much better in this context, but maybe you’re looking for something else, something from here. Do the Planes have cosmic horror from within the shell of Reality?

Yes. Oh yes, they do.

Ancient Evil Survives - Obyrith Overview

In the beginning, there was war.

The primordial War of Law and Chaos is the greatest conflict to have ever rocked the Planes. It was so destructive, so all-encompassing, that it consumed entire Material Plane worlds, reshaped the nature of the Planes themselves, and is still happening, even now. It began in the early days of the Great Wheel and was prosecuted by Chaos, led by the self-styled Queen of Chaos, over a single question: should reality be real? Should effects follow causes, should gravity exist, should fire burn and light reveal, should things age and die, should...

The forces of Law said yes to these questions and fought to establish and maintain an order and logic to reality. Chaos fought for an unbound reality, one in which each individual would be completely free to express their own true essence as tangible changes in the existence around them. The War was never truly won or lost, but the imprisonment of Miska the Wolf-Spider broke the backs of the Chaotic coalition and brought the War to a stalemate of sorts, in a reality which, if not dominated by Law, is definitely Law-leaning. Mortals are familiar with the terrible demons used as footsoldiers by the Abyss, the Tanar’ri, who reign yet in that terrible place. But it was not the Tanar’ri in command of Chaos, and not the Tanar’ri who prosecuted that terrible War. Indeed, the beings we now recognize as demons rose up against their creators, the Obyriths, after the imprisonment of Miska. They overthrew the Obyriths in a great slaughter and replaced them as the dominant exemplars of Chaotic Evil.

The Obyriths are not dead. They plan, and they wait, and they wage war and slaughter upon their wayward slaves in the Abyss. Every last one of them burns to reignite the War and achieve their vision of unbound reality, free of the wretched Law and all too weak to survive without it.

Prisoners Of The Flesh - Obyrith Nature

So what are Obyriths? The easiest answer is that they’re demons - the first demons, in fact, which preceded the more famous Tanar’ri (when you think of demons in D&D chances are you’re thinking of a Tanar’ri), and while this answer is entirely correct it is not the whole story. Tanar’ri are famously Chaotic Evil; they revel in corruption and destruction and are driven to maliciously annihilate or taint all they come across. A demon army marching across the land will stop to personally kick every puppy between point A and point B and they will absolutely mutiny against you if you try to stop them from doing so. What is good and pure must be soiled; what exists must be made to not exist, its foundations shattered, its virtues turned against themselves, its values abandoned. Tanar’ri respect only raw might, and only as long as they think they can’t defeat it.

But Obyriths, their progenitors, are Evil Chaos.

Let’s have some examples. This little guy is a draudnu, a kind of Obyrith made from the bones of chaotic celestials which post-dates the ‘end’ of the War by a pretty significant amount of time. They’re on the weaker side for Obyriths.

(You’ll find this boi in Monster Manual V for 3.5 incidentally.)

Take a nice long look. Really take it in - because that’s not the draudnu. That’s the prison of flesh, the scab, that reality has forced on the draudnu, that the terrible Law has locked it within. The actual draudnu looks like it’s inside me God it’s inside me I can feel it growing and twisting it HURTS get it out, it’s seeping into my blood it’s inside me it’s INSIDE ME -

Let’s have another example. This is a sibriex, recently re-published in Mordenkeinan’s Tome of Foes for 5e with no mention of Obyriths, which is a damn shame. They were instrumental in defining the forms of the common breeds of Tanar’ri.

Fun, right? But again, that’s not a sibriex; the actual form of a sibriex is perfection. Absolute beauty and grace. I am nothing compared to this perfection. I am no one in the face of this perfection. My existence can only profane this perfection. I must serve the Perfect One. I must let it remake me and reshape me, I must appease it, I must make amends for the crime that is my trespass upon the reality made for the Perfect One.

Those two are ‘common’ Obyriths, examples of that race of demons which have peers who are much like themselves, but the Obyriths still have extant Demon Princes. The Queen of Chaos is still alive and nursing her ancient hate. Pale Night’s true form is so profane that reality cannot stand its existence; when she reveals it to you, the multiverse destroys your soul so that knowledge of her truth does not exist. Obox-Ob, murdered by the Queen of Chaos, yet exists as an Aspect of himself - and the Planes live in fear of the rise of the Prince of Vermin, whose truth is agony, rot, and corruption, such that even if you magically remove memory of it from your mind you continue to die from the soul outward.

And Dagon plots within the depths of his palace, sponsoring and advising Demogorgon - the Prince of Demons - and contemplating unimaginable lore of evil. The Demon Prince of Depths looks like this.

This is the form carved on blasphemous altars in the depths of the oceans, where sunlight has never reached. This is the form worshiped by mortals who delight in corruption, destruction, and fear, who dream of a sea where vision is a distant memory and predators hunt by the scent of blood. It is the form sought by those who lust for ancient lore, kept in places far from mortal sight and utilized by an evil older than many gods and mortal races, a form whose mere touch can taint a body of water, mutating & mutilating all within and unleashing their fury, their terror, their slaughter, for ages to come. And it is not Dagon. Dagon’s true form, imprisoned within that flesh, is I’m drowning in the cold dark, I can feel my bones breaking, my eyes are bursting, I’m blind and I’m drowning and I can’t die, my lungs are gone, the water is seeping into my blood I’m drowning and I just want to die make it stop I’m DROWNING.

It’s telling that witnessing Dagon’s true form, his Form of Madness, can give even creatures that breathe water, or which do not breathe at all, crippling hydrophobia.

The true forms of Obyriths are not flesh or matter; they are not, by nature, Material beings the way other Outsiders and mortal things are. Their true forms are that you, personally, are going mad. You, personally, are being assaulted, violated, and infected; you, personally, are being victimized, corrupted, consumed, and betrayed. Imagine if the act of pouring flesh-eating beetles into someone’s eyes had a personality, will, and desires - not the person doing it, the act itself - and that’s an Obyrith. They are evil because what they are is evil, much in the way Erythnul is evil. Unlike their creations, the Tanar’ri, Obyriths aren’t in it to kick every puppy that has ever existed. They want to throw off the yoke of the Law and release their unbound forms. They want an existence of darkness and isolation in which all beings are free to express their true essence to the limit of their might and their will.

They just wanna be themselves.

No matter who has to die.

The Foes Of All Reason - Using Obyriths In Your Campaign

Do you enjoy life’s little conveniences, such as cause-and-effect, linear time, predictable & observable physical laws, not having your body boil away beneath the agonizing will of some random asshole, and the capacity to recognize patterns in nature? Then Obyriths are your enemies. As demons, Obyriths can be summoned and are thus easy to use in the sort of ‘guest star’ role that Tanar’ri are often used in, even if it takes a moon-sized pair of brass balls to decide you can contain one. However, this use - while valid - is not a good way to bring out their cosmic horror themes, and since you decided to read an article about cosmic horror in D&D this far down I’m going to go ahead and assume you’d like to do that.

As one of the Planes’ most ancient and active evils - arguably the most ancient one that hasn’t died or otherwise fucked off - Obyriths are absolutely prime for campaigns that deal with ancient lore, primordial conflict, and unreality. If you like the idea of long-burn plots by masterminds with the patience of aeons, Obyriths are definitely for you. For an example of one such story, check out The Tale of the Whale, written by Afroakuma. The downside to using Obyriths in this way is that if you want to do so in canon settings, you need to be prepared to do some absolute fucking deep dives on the lore, which may require access to books or PDFs as far back as 1e & 2e. If you’re using your own setting this problem is lessened, though at that point you do have to manage to sell the ancient nature of such beings in a way that makes them feel suitably eldritch.

For more...let’s go ahead and say modern for lack of a better word, takes, keep in mind that Obyriths are not Tanar’ri. They do not scheme to overthrow the government of a nation; your pale, fleshly shadow of the Law is nothing to them. The plots of Obyriths upend the Laws which underpin reality itself. Could the great contract that details the alliance between the tribes of Men and Cats be found and perverted, turning each against the other in all reality? Could the insects of this realm be infected with the essence of Obox-Ob so that the Demon Prince of Vermin can feast on mortal souls and effect his own return to power? Could a bridge linking the Deep Ethereal to the Abyss be constructed, permitting the sibriexes and their master, the Prince of the Chrysalis, to shape new slaves from the very essence of raw Potential? Obyriths pervert what is and should be, not just because it suits their end goal of chaos unbound, but because corruption and violation is their very nature. It’s how they think, how they move, what they believe in, love, and value.

Obyriths have a lot to suggest for them when it comes to cosmic horror stories in D&D’s context. They bring out direct themes of madness, terrible truth, malign alien intelligence, and reality-unreality. You can comprehend their motives and even their nature, sort of, but their end goal is completely alien to mortal beings; the reality they want would be completely unrecognizable to the denizens of the current one. They are evil as mortals understand the concept, but not in a way that matches or even relates to their peers, which means they act in surprising and unpredictable ways.

All of this of course damages their ability to fulfill the classic cosmic horror thesis, but there’s something to be said about the idea that an alien intelligence, to be horrifying, needs something humans can attempt to relate to. It certainly makes writing for them easier.

If you’re using Obyriths in 3.5, you’re set to go; look for them in the various Monster Manuals, as well as Fiendish Codex. If you’re attempting to use them in Pathfinder, good decision but you’re gonna have some stat block converting to do. Trying to use them in 5e is gonna be the absolute bitch of a job, and I’m not sure where to even start on those suggestions except to note that the signature trait of Obyriths - the thing that makes them them, mechanically - is a Form of Madness ability, where they reveal their truth to their victims. Forms of Madness are mind-affecting abilities which hit all non-demons near the Obyrith, tainting them in some way. You can see some example ideas above, and the ones from 3.5 in the published books I just mentioned, but here’s hoping I can find an expert on 5th Edition’s mechanics kind enough to lend me a hand here.

I hope this article proved helpful to you! As with all of my work, questions and critique are welcome. Thanks for reading!

#D&D #planescape #far realms #demons #obyrith #cosmic horror #body horror #advice #I'm Not Sure How To Use Tags #reblogs welcome #critique welcome

63 notes · View notes

erikismybitch · 5 years

Text

Waiting in Vain: Chapter 1

This One Guy.

Marleys room was her safe space . It smelled like her, it looked like her , even the soft sheets felt like her . They were expensive enough. “Quality over quantity“ her mother would say when she was little . That was something she carried on , even after her life .

“Alexa, turn on my fucking light” Marley groaned , she had been hearing voices in the living room for the past hour . She didn’t even have Alexa, Marley just wanted to humor herself. She was trying to take a nap before she had to be logged on to her computer for work .

Marley controlled the social media content for a food delivery app. When people messaged and tweeted the company , Marley was the person who had to respond and help . She had to take a total of six hours a day , all dedicated to the complaints of unhappy customers . She just wanted a few hours of sleep, she had a busy day and needed to pull an all nighter .

But no, Tiana had to invite people over tonight. They were cousins and shared a living space . Well, Marley was living with her cousin. She fell on hard times and needed a place to stay while she got on her feet . Marley had given herself a year , it was month six so she was half way there. Ready to go wasn’t even the phrase that could explain how she felt . Paying half the rent wasn’t bad, but she wanted her own space.

There was a knock at her door, one of the many over the past hour . It was the same thing , somebody asking when she was “gonna’ come out” . From the sound of it , a football game was on . Marley wasn’t interested in any sport that didn’t involve Serena Williams . And plus , to her, football was fueled by racism, it’s workings were slavery-like. Marley also thought it was too many confusing rules , what’s a first down anyway .

She left her nest , spotted a few familiar faces and this one guy .

The one guy who approached Marley a few weeks ago . But once he laid eyes on Tiana, Marley was a distant memory .

His name was Erik.

And there were many before him , ever since they were little girls Tiana always prevailed . Marley rested the side of her body on the living room wall , every seat was taken so she had no choice . Also she was able to see everyone , but couldn’t keep her focus away from Tiana and Erik. His hand rested on her thigh , Marley could see the imprint from him squeezing it ever so often . They kept stealing seductive glances at each other. Marley rolled her eyes .

This is why I stay in my room, Marley preached to herself. All the while grabbing an unopened lime-a-rita and taking a huge swig . It was time for her to start work anyway . Without so much as a goodbye , she went back into her room . Uninterested on being around people . Marley felt a particular way , she didn’t know if it was loneliness. Everyone could lie and pretend that they were okay with rejection and being single . But nobody really enjoys being alone . Marley wanted to be wanted , even if it was for a moment. So she did what a lot of impulsive girls do . She sent a text to her ex boyfriend.

Trey, wyd?

She sent the text . And after letting thirty minutes pass he didn’t respond . Marley figured he wasn’t horny enough to respond back . “Why did I do that !” She slapped her for heads as self punishment. She felt that instant regret .

Marley logged into all social media accounts for work . Twitter was her first @Gunna671 was really upset about something missing from his order . She started off with the blue print .

We are sorry for the mistake , please tell me the item(s) that are missing from the order. And please provide the order number .

She managed to stay up for four hours , right before crashing again . The small fifteen minute cat nap lasted a little too long . Thank god, but not thank god for the loud noise that woke her up. It was now 2am.

Tiana was so damn loud , screaming Eriks name over and over . The sounds were muffled through the walls but Marley could hear everything . Even Erik’s recent remark about how “her shit was so wet” and how “her mouth felt just like her pussy when he was in it “

“Damn” Marley spoke out loud .

Her computer screen was still active with hundreds of unanswered direct messages and tweets. Before she got back to it, her phone screen lit up .

My bad , I didn’t see your text

Treys bullshit lie made her stomach growl with hunger . So she got up , those customers could wait another ten minutes. Through the hall she could hear them mumbling to eachother , it seemed as if they had finished . Thank god now. Nevertheless, Marley was on a food mission .

In the kitchen , she grabbed a box of hearty cereal from the cabinet . Poured it in a bowl and then added milk . Just as she retrieved her spoon, Tianas door opened. Erik walked out of the room . Nothing on but his briefs and a smile , he exuberated confidence as if he lived there . This was Eriks house. He displayed the same arrogance that attracted Marley to him in the first place , he didn’t even have to say a word .

They were at a club , he approached Marley but he couldn’t keep his wondering eyes off her cousin . “Her name is Tiana, go ahead “

Marley had grew tired of his act quickly , she knew where he really wanted to be . Routinely, if he would have just saw Tiana first . Usually, Tiana would reject them . But not Erik , not a man who was built to perfection like him . From his brown skin , bulging biceps and dimpled smile . He probably didn’t even know what rejection felt like .

He smelled like cologne and latex. That latex smell always carried on its own . Erik mumbled something about juice . Marley heard him loud and clear but she was still upset at him for his choice . She ignored him . It got awkward because he repeated himself , so he knew for a fact she heard him . He didn’t like that , he could get rude too .

“You didn’t hear what I said?” he raised his tone , in a father-like manner , like one that was fed up with a teen .

“Nope” Marley was dry with him . Erik kissed his teeth and brushed past her . He moved so quickly that it startled her . He opened the fridge and grabbed a carton of orange juice . It just so happened to belong to Marley. “Aye, that’s mine!” She warned him .

“So I can’t have none?” He smirked, trying to use his charm to dissolve the situation .

“No, you should have asked” Marley went towards him to reach for the carton of juice , he snatched it back just as the tips of her fingers touched his. Erik looked down at her , his smirk was gone . He had tried his best to be cordial , but he took big offense to people who snatched things from him . Plus, he had already asked her twice .

“I don’t give a fuck if this is your house or not , don’t you ever try to take something from me “ He was loud and clear . Marley stood back in fear . Something about him made her freeze . If it was any other person , she would have returned the same energy . He looked directly at her but she couldn’t fathom looking him back in the eye. He slammed the carton on the counter , so hard that the bottom began to leak.

“You shouldn’t be drinking all this sugar anyway , you’ll just keep getting bigger”

The gasp that seeped through her lips came out strong. Erik had made Marley feel so small , thank god he walked away . He didn’t get a chance to see her eyes water . Marley had completely lost her appetite.

Is he saying I’m fat ? That was a fat joke right ? I know he isn’t concerned about my health , he fucking called me fat .

She continued to cloud her thoughts with disaproving opinions about herself . Marley cleaned up the leaking juice and threw the carton in the garbage can . Her cereal bowl went into the trash too.

I’m not even that big , I wear a size twelve , sometimes a ten . It’s because I’m not cute . Does he think I’m fat ? Tiana and I are the same size . Maybe I should cut out the sugar . I am fat .

She washed the stickiness off of her hands , dried them and walked back into her room . Down the hall where the return of their sex sounds was ever so prevalent. “Fuck him” she whispered loudly.

Like everyone, Marley had experienced a few insults in her lifetime. Self confidence and reassurance can only go so far . Only liars say things can’t hurt their feelings . Words hurt everybody . She crumbled into her safe bed and thought of the things she should have said back . But who was she kidding , there was no comeback that could have broke Erik down . She wished she had something on him , like “Thats why you failed high school” or “That’s why your father left your mom” but she didn’t know his history . She just knew his name and from the sounds of Tianas screams , she knew he could fuck .

She opened her phone again .

My bad , I didn’t see your text

She read Trey’s text and responded. Again , Marley knew he was lying , after four years she could read him like a book . Even through his text messages . She just wanted the feeling of touch from someone, even if that person endowed the most pain on her.

It’s fine , you sleep?

Nah , come thru

He knew what the 2am text meant . She needed him to make her feel good . Pulling pride to the side, Marley got dressed . Leggings, hoodie , and uggs. Whatever she wore would be snatched off as soon as she walked through his door . Well, depending on who was all there. Treys house was a never ending revolving door. Full of drugs , fights , a mother who let the streets raise her kids and everlasting drama. The stories Marley could tell about the time spent there were unbelievable.

I’ll be there in 15

She left , without telling Tiana. She was sure to have a few angry text messages from her cousin in the morning . Living with Tiana came with a dirty kitchen and attachment issues . Marley got into her car , when it heated to completion she left . Six more months , the lease that held both of their names would be over . Where Marley could move on with her life , new friends , new experiences, a new state . She hoped . But for now , Trey would do.

Hope you guys like the intro :)

#erik killmonger fanfiction #erik killmonger fanfic #erik killmonger imagine #black panther fanfic

248 notes · View notes

turn-your-gaze-on-this-dumptruck · 5 years

Text

His Past, His Present, His Future: A Gerita Fic

Germany is shocked when Italy attacks France at a world meeting. Germany promises to stay with Italy in his country while he recuperates. Will he learn why Italy was so hostile to France? Will he unlock secrets to his past there? Sucky summary, good fic. Mostly just vacation fluff, honestly. Very little angst. Rated M for Romano's language

The link to Fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13252420/1/His-Past-His-Present-His-Future

The link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18349700/chapters/43443953

**********

Chapter 1: The Fight

To say that Germany was frightened would have been a gross understatement. He grabbed the arm rests of his car seat with a white-knuckle grip, his slicked-back hair coming undone as the wind rushed through the open roof of the car. His blue eyes were wide open with fear as the car whipped around a corner into another lane. He glanced with blatant disbelief at the driver.

Italy was completely calm as he drove with a content smile, one arm resting on the open window as he drove one-handed, his hair batting madly around his head. Germany could not believe his eyes as he realized that Italy was driving with his usual narrow squint.

Germany had no idea how Japan was reacting, knowing that the last member of the trio had driven with Italy before. Germany was in no state of mind to check the back seat, keeping his eyes glued forward as if his concentration could save them from a crash. To his immense relief, he could see the white house in the distance. The World Meeting was being hosted by America this year. Germany’s moment of relief was gone as soon as it came as Italy breezed through an intersection, the nose of the car barreling toward the building.

“Italy!” Germany shouted over the honking of other cars.

Just as they were about to drive onto the sidewalk, Italy jerked the wheel to the side.

Germany raised a hand to the handle attached to the ceiling, shutting his eyes.

The car turned to a 90-degree angle, sliding into a perfect parallel park.

Italy let out a content sigh, unbuckling his seatbelt. He leaned forward in his seat, pulled a comb out of his pocket, and combed his auburn hair in the rearview mirror. “What a pretty day for driving!”

Germany sat there for a moment, his chest heaving as his mind caught up with him. “I- Mein Gott.” He turned, straining against the seat belt as he checked on Japan. “Japan are you okay?”

Japan was sitting in the car with a seemingly serene air. Germany would have thought he were completely fine if not for his ashen complexion, his dilated eyes, and the fierce white grip his hands had on his knees. “Yes.” He said simply, his voice unusually shaky.

Germany looked over to Italy, his eyebrows furrowing into a fierce glare. “Were you trying to get us killed?!”

Italy’s hand paused in mid-air as he turned to Germany. “What do you mean? We were totally safe! And I got us here early!” He pointed to the car’s dashboard.

Germany glanced over to the clock briefly. 8:26. They were supposed to be here by 9:00. “You call that safe?!”

“Of course! We didn’t crash, did we?” He asked.

“Just because we didn’t crash doesn’t mean we were safe! Multiple traffic laws broken, you almost ran over several birds and a cat…” He trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose. Italy would be the death of him, surely. But then again, today he almost was.

Italy smiled. “But we didn’t crash! We didn’t run over any birds or cats, and don’t tell me you haven’t ever broken a couple traffic laws yourself, Germany.”

“I haven’t.” Germany’s hand left his face as he glared over at Italy.

Italy’s smile dropped. “You haven’t? You haven’t taken a five-minute drive without a seat belt?”

“No.”

“Changed lanes without a turn signal?”

“Never. I don’t have a death wish.”

“Even when no one was there?” Italy asked, quirking a brow.

Germany crossed his arms with stubborn pride. “Of course not.”

Italy furrowed his brow. “Hmm.” He turned in his seat. “What about you, Japan?”

Japan finally looked up from the floor. “A- a couple of times, I suppose.”

“Exactly! Japan does it, Romano does it whenever he drives, everyone breaks a couple of traffic laws sometimes. Am I really so bad if I do it?”

Germany raised an eyebrow at Italy. “I’m not sure I understand your-”

“-Excuse me,” Japan interrupted, escaping the car frantically. He stumbled over to a nearby trash can and bent over it, vomiting.

Before Germany’s hand even contacted his seat buckle, Italy was already there rubbing soothing circles on Japan’s back. “There, there, it’s okay! I’m sorry, Japan, I forgot you got motion sickness.”

As Germany unbuckled his seatbelt, he remembered his unopened water battle sitting in the cupholder. He grabbed it before leaving the car and joining the other two nations. Just as he made it over there, Japan straightened and spit into the garbage can. “It is okay, Italy.”

“Doesn’t look okay,” Germany added as he handed Japan the water bottle.

“Thank you, Germany.” He took a long drag from the water bottle, swishing the water around his cheeks before he swallowed it. “It is good to get it out before my presentation, I suppose.” He took another sip.

Italy brightened, a hand returning to Japan’s shoulder. “That’s right! Your presentation! Are you ready?”

“As ready as I can be,” he said as he capped the water bottle. He led the two back to the car to grab their stuff. “I’ve been working on it for months. I practiced all day yesterday.”

Germany was not surprised. Japan was one of the most hardworking people he knew, and he had become accustomed to the fact that he wanted to provide a quality presentations for the other nations. “You sound prepared.”

Japan nodded, swinging the strap of his laptop bag around his shoulder.

Germany leaned across the driver’s seat to grab his notebook and pen. He stood up and was about to pat his pockets for his backup pen as Italy brushed past him.

“You’re going to do great!” He bent over to grab his notebooks and box of pastels.

Germany shook his head at his colleague’s antics, trying not to focus too hard on how well-tailored Italy’s suit was as he straightened back up. Germany’s eyes flickered over Italy. He was wearing a steel grey suit, tailored to fit his lithe form, with a black button-up shirt and a tie that matched his suit. His hair was perfect, of course. Damn it.

Italy waved. “Germany, you okay?”

To Germany’s despair, his cheeks were turning pink. “I was making sure you looked presentable.” He turned to Japan, noticing the slight upturn on the smaller nation’s lips. Damn, he noticed. “Do I look okay, Germany?”

Germany had no doubt in his mind, but he surveyed Japan quickly just to make sure. He was wearing a black suit, also tailored, with a starched white shirt and a black tie. He nodded. “Yes.”

Italy snickered. “You may want to check yourself, Germany…”

Germany frowned. “I checked myself in the mirror this morning, What I’m wearing is perfectly fine.” He remembered his black suit, his white shirt, his grey tie.

Italy pointed at Germany’s hair. “Your gel came undone while we were driving.”

Germany’s eyes widened slightly. He self-consciously smoothed his hair down with his hand. “Is it okay?”

“It’s… not the best.” Japan answered. “Perhaps we can fix it inside.”

Germany looked up at the white house, decisively smoothing his hair down again. “Right.” He walked toward the building, starting up the steps.

Behind him, Italy and Japan exchanged a glance before they followed him up.

Their steps echoed on the floor of the entrance hall as they made their way through. Germany blushed slightly as he noticed all the attention they were gaining. How could they not gain attention? They were the personifications of nations. At the sound of a couple whispers, Germany flattened his hair again.

“There’s a restroom.” Japan muttered to Germany.

Germany made a beeline toward the restrooms, resisting the urge to fast-walk. That would make the situation worse. The more dignity he held on to, the better.

His mouth fell open as he glanced in the mirror. While the strands had their gel on still, his hair was still lazily drooping to the side in a middle part. There was no way to fix this, was there? Upon hearing Italy laughing, he turned fiercely. “Stop laughing! There is no way I can go into the meeting like this!”

Italy’s laughing reduced to a giggle. “Sorry, Germany, your expression was just so funny. I can fix it!”

Japan’s brow furrowed slightly. “How?”

Italy’s smile dampened slightly. “Germany’s not going to like it,”

“Anything is better than this.” Germany protested, refusing to look in the mirror again.

Italy withdrew the comb from his pocket. “You’re going to have to wash your hair in the sink.”

There were a couple of quiet seconds. The only sound was the dripping of a faucet in a sink.

“No.” Was Germany’s simple answer.

Italy’s smile fell away. “B- why not? You said yourself you can’t walk into the meeting like this!”

“What do we do if someone walks in and I’m bent over a sink?” Germany couldn’t even comprehend how humiliating that would be.

“Nothing?” Italy offered. “What are they going to do, tell us to stop? We’re nations! Anyone who walks in here will just ignore us.”

“There’s no way I’m doing that.” Germany crossed his arms stubbornly.

Japan raised his palms in a peace-making gesture. “Germany, it is really the only thing Italy can do. Nobody will take us seriously otherwise.”

Germany paused, considering Japan. He sighed, turning to the mirror. His hair was as messy as ever. Not to mention getting it fixed might ease Japan’s mind about how seriously others would take his presentation. “Fine. How long do we have?”

Italy tilted the Rolex on his right wrist up. “Twenty-five minutes.”

“My hair should dry in time…” He allowed.

“If we start now,” Italy pointed out.

Without a word, Germany unbuttoned his jacket and handed it to Japan. He threw his tie over his shoulder, leaned over, and turned on the water. He took one last resolving breath before dipping his head into the sink and scrubbing furiously.

They walked into the meeting at 8:50, Germany’s cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment. Germany’s hair was in a side-part, his bangs combed toward the left side of his face. He took his seat without saying a word to the others, hoping that no-one would notice. Italy took a seat on his right, and Japan on his left. The both of them gave him reassuring glances that he ignored as he took out his paper and pens. All was going well, he supposed. No one had seemed to-

“Dude!” A shrill voice interrupted his thoughts.

Germany let out a sigh just loud enough for him and his friends to hear. Of all the people who could have noticed… “Ciao, America!” Italy said.

America high-fived him. “’Sup, dudes?! Germany, is that a new hairstyle?”

Germany sighed again, this time loud enough for America to hear. “Ja, I only have it because-”

“’Cause it looks pretty great!”

Germany looked up for the first time at America. “What?”

“Yeah!” America planted both palms firmly on the table. “You look less angry this way, y’know. It’s something different, but still sensible! Looks good!” He offered Germany a handshake. “Welcome, by the way. Hope the D.C. traffic wasn’t too bad for you.”

“Thank you.” He sent a glance over to Italy. “The traffic wasn’t the problem.”

Italy had the sense to rub the back of his head sheepishly.

America nodded. “Glad to hear it. Japan, dude! How’ve you been?” He went around Germany to take the unoccupied seat next to Japan. The two unlikely friends launched into a conversation about Japan’s presentation.

“I wanted to invite you and Japan over to my house for dinner after the meeting.” Italy offered, looking over at Germany. Though Germany knew he was trying to hide it, he could see that Italy’s eyes kept flickering up to the new hairstyle.

Germany considered the invitation, turning his notebook to an open page and writing the date at the top as a distraction. “That sounds good, I don’t think I have anything going on this evening.” Germany smiled a bit at the thought, excited to join Italy for dinner that evening. His smile faded, however, as he realized that a tiny bit of him was hoping that Japan would not be able to make it. That it would just be him and Italy. Together. Eating dinner. Just talking and laughing. He hunched over his paper and determinedly scrawled the words: Meeting- Ocean Pollution – America. This was no way to think. Japan was their friend. And Italy… He looked over at the nation as he thumbed through the pages of his note book to a fresh page.

Ever since World War Two… that one Valentine’s day… it spurned feelings, thoughts, and confusion in him. And now in 2019… It’s been almost 80 years. He has been in denial for a long time, but he was logical. He knew that he felt for Italy. He’s known he has for a long time now. But it was never to be. Maybe if they were human. Maybe- maybe if Italy felt the same way about him. He spurned the thought away as America made his way to the other side of the table, sitting at the head, opposite of Germany. He noticed America leaning over to Russia and pointing to Germany. He leaned over his papers again. Damn America…

The meeting was called to order at 9:02. It was decided that Japan would present his bit right after lunch (which was catered by Red Robin, America added). In the meantime, they would discuss the pollution in the ocean, how big the problem was, and after lunch Japan would give his presentation on potential solutions. During the meeting, Japan was dutifully taking notes on what was happening, as was Germany. As he glanced over at Italy’s notes, he noticed that he was drawing with his pastels. Upon further examination, he noticed that he was drawing Switzerland, who was currently speaking. It was a perfect picture. He furrowed his brows. While he was plenty impressed with Italy’s drawing skills, he felt that the middle of a meeting was not the place to utilize them. Nonetheless, he let it be. It wasn’t worth the effort.

America adjourned for lunch gleefully, excited to share the catering with everyone. Everyone ate their meals gladly. Germany listened as Japan accepted Italy’s dinner invitation, guilt-ridden as he felt a twinge of disappointment. Everyone finished their lunch around twenty minutes into the hour and a half long break, separating into different groups to chat.

The trio joined a conversation with France, America, England, Russia, and Canada. They were talking about current affairs going on in their country.

“My country is kinda’ hell right now, dudes.” America said with a smile. “My boss is stirring the pot quite a bit, and I can tell your bosses are getting tired of him.” He looked around the group, noticing that everyone was kind of avoiding his eyes. “It’s fine, guys, I can join the club there.” He said with a bit of a laugh. “What about you, France? You’ve been kind of quiet,”

France shrugged a slight bit. “Nothing much to report here!” He said in a relieved tone. “All has been rather peaceful.”

America snickered. “We know. You haven’t really gotten up to much in a long while. Even during the world wars you were kind of sitting back, huh?”

France allowed a smile and shook his head, much to Germany’s relief. He was worried that this would aggravate France, but he appeared to take it in good humor. “What can I say? I can only do what my boss says.”

Germany was about to agree but decided to stay silent. The world wars were still a bit of a sensitive topic for him, and he didn’t like bringing up his past mistakes. Even if it was the bosses of the country that caused them.

“To be fair, since the United Nations were formed there haven’t been nearly as many wars as there were back in the old days.” England chimed in, raising a single bushy eyebrow.

“Well yeah, dude, but we’ve still had stuff going on even after that. France has been kind of chilling except for a bunch of strikes, I feel like you’ve been sitting on your ass since you caused Holy Rome’s fall. And that was before I was even born!” America pointed out with a laugh.

There was a tense pause. Germany felt confused as Italy tensed beside him. He looked over as he noticed that Italy’s eyes were wide open. “What?” Italy almost whispered.

America continued to laugh, unaware of what he’d just done. “Yeah, dude! That was pretty badass, but that’s no excuse to leave the rest of the work to us.” He glanced around, wondering if his jokes landed. But all eyes were on Italy and France.

Germany glanced around the group, gauging everyone’s reactions. England was aghast. Japan’s expression was almost exactly like it was back in the car. Like he was going to throw up. Russia’s usual smile was not on his face, making him even more unsettling than usual. Canada and America just seemed confused, looking at each other questioningly. Germany noticed with a pang that England and France shot urgent looks at each other before considering Germany for a moment. What the hell was going on?

“France… he’s kidding, right?” Italy said it with a small smile, but his voice was still almost at a whisper. Almost like if he spoke any louder, the atmosphere would shatter. “You wouldn’t…” France finally looked into his eyes. “Italy…” He sighed, seemingly collecting his thoughts. “I- yes… I did, but-”

Italy launched forward and his hands seized France by the collar, effectively interrupting France’s explanation. He pushed France up against the wall, his usually soft brown eyes filled with poison. “You bastard!”

The others were too taken aback to take any action.

“Little brother, I-”

“I am not your little brother!” Italy pulled France away from the wall and slammed him back into it. “Not after what you did!”

The lull of conversation in the background faded into nothingness as the other nations started to notice. Germany barely noted Spain and Prussia materializing behind him, watching what was going on.

France opened his mouth and closed it, apparently making the wise decision not to say anything.

“He was a child!” Italy shouted, louder than ever. His usual light aired voice was replaced by something raw and dark. Something pained and tortured. “And you killed him!” Italy leaned into France, his voice still loud. “I loved him! You knew I loved him! I told you and you killed him!” He once again slammed France into the wall, harder this time. The sickening smack echoed through the room. “He was a child!” He repeated in full volume.

Germany was shocked out of his frozen state, pushing England to the side as he gripped Italy’s shoulders and pulled him away from France.

Italy struggled against Germany’s arms.“Let me go! Let me-” Italy broke out of Germany’s arms. He stepped forward and pulled his fist back, stepping forward and swinging it into France’s face. France reeled back from the force.

“Italy!” Germany’s eyes wide, he stepped forward and grabbed at Italy again. This time, Italy made no attempt to escape. He curled into Germany’s chest and stayed. Though this display would have normally embarrassed Germany, he knew that he had to get Italy out of there. There was no way he could stay there after what happened. He looked back up at France.

France stood there and touched his fingers below his nose, pulling away bloodied fingertips. But he didn’t look mad or angry. He didn’t look shocked. He looked sorrowful. Germany could have sworn that he looked at him in this way. Not Italy.

Germany looked around. Only a few nations including himself were surprised. He noticed that Spain, Prussia, Austria, and Hungary looked crestfallen. He furrowed his brow. What was wrong with these people? “Let’s go, Italy.”

Italy said nothing, allowing Germany to push him slightly toward the door. Germany’s hands never left Italy’s shoulders. As his back turned, he heard Japan.

“I have to go.”

“Japan, you still have to do your presentation.” America said, his voice unusually muted.

Japan pulled a flash drive out of his pocket. “My laptop bag is in my seat. Everything is already prepared. The slides should explain everything.” He handed it to America. “I trust you will deliver this presentation well, but I have to help my friend.”

America’s fist curled around the flash drive. “Should have expected that. Take good care of him.”

Japan nodded once and turned to fast walk toward Germany and Italy.

Germany continued his path, stopping as he passed his brother. “Prussia.” He began, facing him. “I know you and France are close. Why didn’t you help him?”

Prussia’s normally cheerful, confident face was one of heartbroken sorrow. His normal raspy voice was soft with tenderness. “Because he deserved it.”

#Gerita #Holy Rome #Italy #Japan #Romano #aph spain #aph italy #aph Japan #aph germany #aph gerita #aph england #aph france #aph world #aph spamano #spamano #hetalia

50 notes · View notes

monkey-network · 5 years

Text

?Does SU is Garbage¿: A Measured Response

or THE TROOF ABOUT STEVEN UNIVERSE, PART 7

Hello, ladies and gentlemen. Monkey of the Makaveli, coming at ya live, once again, through the power... of the internet. And this rant is quite menial, especially since the topic at hand is over half a year old now, but I’ve been sitting on it recently and I wanted to get it off my chest.

Back in 2017, I talked about SU’s handling of villains and how the show was plotting up to make them sympathetic, thus neutering the sense of dimension that can come with developing a villain, especially when you initially make them out to be very fascistic in their approach. Over a year later, Lily Orchard released a video essentially touting the same with the addition of saying the show unintentionally bears a theme of nazi apologia thanks to Sugar’s ambition for character redemption, thus making the show objectively bad. I didn’t agree to this but I didn’t have as good of a case then so I left it alone. Cut to winter where I saw a response from her talking about Robobuddies’ video on SU, considering it good but “malnutritious” compared to hers. Again, I didn’t agree with this sentiment but I didn’t have as good of a case then so I left that alone as well. Cut to April this year where, after learning quite a bit about objectivity vs subjectivity, I went back to that response and rereading this one quote, something clicked:

“No criticism of anything should leave out the themes and whether they actually panned out the way the creator was hoping they would. If all you care about is story structure and animation, Robo goes in an impressive amount of detail about those two specific things. But that kind of hyperfixation on these two things while ignoring the themes is malnutritious criticism.“ [December, 2018]

So with all consideration, the analysis of themes seem important to Orchard when it comes to objective criticism, especially when her video was out to prove the why in “Why Steven Universe IS Garbage.” And this isn’t a one time thing, I remember her covering before that the themes are what can make or break a show, episode, what have you. I would agree, but I hate to say this, given that I tend to be quite a writer/critic myself, yet it should be a given:

Themes should not and are not the end all, BE all to objective criticism, because it is an inherently subjective concept.

Now with that said, I’m not saying she doesn’t bring up good points, but for all the talk of whether the themes actually panned out the way the creator was hoping they would, this talk of fascist apologia in SU is not so much discussing Sugar’s intention but second guessing it based on personal hindsight and bias. In all fairness, I’m not above this since, again, I too felt this way beforehand and after watching SU the whole way through, my perspective has certainly changed.

So permit me, if you will, to go on one final SU rant, not only deconstructing that headline statement above, but objectively analyze Orchard’s idea of SU being apologetic to fascism in addition to reflect off of my previous stance for the villains. Prepare yourselves, this is quite a read...

The Themes, Mason

Keep in mind, I’m not saying discussing themes in media is a bad thing because it can enhance how you feel about it. As such discussing only the story structure, characters, the direction of the media isn’t bad either because you’re focusing on how the project came together and what is measurable in terms of good and bad content. But understand that while connectable, they are still separate types of criticisms. And while many writers can disagree with me on this, I feel like this has to be said: themes shouldn't be the point of the show. This goes for creators and critics equally.

I’ve discussed this earlier with someone, but themes are so subjective, you can put the content on a shelf that cannot be considered good/bad; circumventing any criticisms that could prove you wrong, and essentially deadlocking discussion since any opponent can’t really disprove your theme if proven enough and they either have to go along with you or argue to the death that it can be something else while you can sit comfortably in your generally subjective bubble, thinking you achieved objectivity.

You can give counters, but this is what people like Lily resort to define what’s good or bad writing in their eyes, and it can be frustrating trying to deconstruct because you can’t kill an idea. Not to say Rebecca Sugar or other creators can’t/couldn’t fall for this too because trying to contextualize themes over the actions of the characters and the flow of the plot, to force everything around the themes, can often lead to conflicting and sometimes frustrating thoughts as to what the show is trying to say. You will definitely see this with shows containing the most polarized fanbases, i.e. Voltron, GoT, Star vs. Evil, where it’s arguable that the creators trying to put the themes over the writing crippled people’s interest when they actually pay attention to the writing.

That’s not to say themes aren’t important or shouldn’t be important to you, but they should be the shadow that comes with the walking product, not the partner giving you the directions shoulder to shoulder as it goes along. Avatar The Last Airbender certainly doesn’t get the praise that it gets based on the themes alone, but of how well-written the characters were, how they’ve grown, what were their thought processes, and so forth; people love understanding the logic behind writing. Lily understands this. But on the flip side, I’m willing to bet she’ll use the themes as a defense to me saying Captain Marvel is objectively bad in terms of its writing quality. Whether it be their sacred cow or something they want destroyed, themes can be the go-to when trying to convince people that their judgement is concrete, when in reality it’s interpretive.

Furthermore, saying “No criticism should leave out the themes” is the “you have to have a very high IQ” of criticism standards. Truthfully when it comes to objective criteria, the story structure makes the themes, not the other way around. As such what you experience from a movie/show can be different to how the movie actually turned out. Best example would be a look into Armound White, a staple critic infamous for his contrarian takes. Every movie considered great is bad, vice versa, with some even transcending his scale. For a perspective, this man thought Into the Spiderverse was bad and a majority of video games, aside from Detective Pikachu were great, so take that what you will. But if you read some of his reviews, it’s less about what the movie did and more of what it supposedly stands for; His Spiderverse review mostly talks about how, thematically, it’s indoctrinating people into the MCU’s commercial process:

Whoever says Into the Spider-Verse is about “fun” doesn’t understand movies or anything about how 21st-century media operates — particularly the exhausting Marvel franchise. Millennials, and others, delude themselves by accepting market promotion as part of a larger cultural narrative. [...] Marvel and Sony gamble on Miles to meet the identity-politics fashion that now dominates contemporary culture. (Consider that Spider-Man’s example overwhelms Miles’s school assignment, Dickens’s Great Expectations.) But this is not just freewheeling, imaginative, and progressive capitalism, as in Spielberg’s Ready Player One; it’s the worst social, artistic, ethnic, and political engineering.“ [Armound White, December 14, 2018, this is what most of his reviews sound like, FYI]

Now say what you will about White, his way of reviewing is remotely consistent and can somewhat be a nice measurement to what’s considerably good and bad. You can see his review of Man of Steel and take away that it probably isn’t the “Godfather of Superhero Films” or a movie like Suicide Squad where it’s terrible enough that he couldn’t defend it, all the while mostly discussing the themes in lieu of any concrete happenings from the movie. The same can’t be said for most others when they surely want something beaten to the ground or elevated as great. The standards you might have for one thing can be bent to things you like and don’t like if you so choose; warping the context around your idea. As such, you’ll generally find most wanting to enjoy their own perspective while telling others they’re incorrect for having theirs. But how might this collate with Lily’s case for SU bearing the theme of nazi apologia or redeeming the space nazis, making the show pretty bad? Well...

Sympathy and Redemption vs The Deconstruct of Viewpoints

I won’t deny that Lily’s point about the show bringing in the Diamonds as an overarching threat is touchy given what they’ve done and who they are vs how their character was slowly revealed. It was bold thinking that the Sugar gang were gonna offer these characters redemption or show them in a sympathetic light. But I’ll say right now, and I’m talking to 2017 me as well, this is admittedly surface level.

To preface this, I’ll say that Lily’s point amounts to a lot of pattern recognition. This is something people who criticize with themes use and I’m not above that, as I will be doing that soon. Another thing is that in trying to argue Lily’s point, this is in no way trying to defend Steven Universe’s writing; it’s generally just setting some things straight.

With this said, one pattern that she brings up is that the portrayals of the Diamonds is essentially the show trying to make you feel sorry for them. In addition, with Steven being Pink Diamond, it’s trying to justify that without this factor in mind, the diamonds should’ve been killed because they’re far from redemption or sympathy in any light.

Now, I won’t say the part of Steven being Pink is wrong because this opened a disconnect of Steven having to be the mouthpiece for someone that should’ve been alive to give her perspective to characters that deserve it, i.e. the Diamonds and the gems. In fact, Pink Diamond/Rose Quartz is honestly the main problem with this show as a whole and I could into extreme length as to why but I digress. But,,,, on talk of woobifying the fascists, there is a contradiction afoot. With this contradiction comes a question: are the Diamonds ever shown to be in the right?

Weird question but this is where I’ve noticed a contextual pattern that Homeworld’s ideology is always called out on its bullshit, understanding the fact that they’re truly nothing without their sense of superiority. This is with Peridot calling out Yellow Diamond after commemorating how much she respected her before. Blue Diamond getting a fucking farm and a hand dropped on her after stubbornly touting her grief over everyone. And in the end where all three diamonds, including the literal White Supremacist, fall before the fact that everything they thought was right turned out to be crap. Steven does lend a hand to these characters, but it is never shown that he or the show actively justifies their behavior, regardless of their power/status. If anything, the show constantly makes Steven look better than the Diamonds by comparison, while looking like he’s trying to reach common ground with them.

Heck, I’ll go to where Lily talks of Uncle Andy and his episode in that part. There’s no denying that Andy’s retorts were highly xenophobic, but even when Steven and the others try to be chummy with him through dinner, the last third of the episode mostly involves celebrating each others’ presence without him, not once trying to bring him in on the conversation, not even Greg who’s actual family with him. This results in Andy storming off and later on admit that he’s rightfully at fault for not being susceptible to change, and this admittance comes before Steven offers him the opportunity to connect with the family more. Not saying this couldn’t have been tuned better, but we can’t deny that the show doesn’t tolerate attitudes like Andy’s and thus shows them that they’re wrong before Steven offers them the chance to better their worldview, unless you’re Kevin but he’s an outlier all things considered.

And in turn, this also brings in the pattern that the villains don’t submit so easily. The gems had to fight off the Diamonds before Steven got through to them, and even then it took some time before they actually sided with Steven over White Diamond. White Diamond had to be subdued more than once just for Steven to get through to her. While these moments vary in logic and pacing, again thanks to the PD = RQ twist, the point nonetheless rings home that the show isn’t much sympathetic to the Diamonds as much as it’s intolerable towards their stance and reacts accordingly. The only time the Diamonds are ever in the right are when they acknowledge they’re wrong, playing to the theme that no one’s above a change in viewpoint. Say what you will about what happened, it’s at least reasonable to say the writers provided a serviceable story that benefited from not killing anybody (sort of) while giving the heroes a struggle to overcome.

As with redemption, and I’ve mentioned this before, Sugar hasn’t actually redeemed them and the show more or less understands this. Change of viewpoint is one thing, but if they haven’t sacrificed anything beyond their ego or high ground, can’t really count that as them going through a redemption arc because they haven’t really given up anything sincerely valuable of theirs. Given that the show isn’t over yet, it would be premature to say that they’re in the clear and can’t be given time to repent heavily for their past. Just saying, for somebody that sought objectivity in my criticisms of SU for a while now, I’m actually willing to give Sugar a chance to finish her story before vilifying her intentions unlike some. And if I’m proven wrong, I will be happy to admit that.

Now taking everything into account, it’s reasonable to say that the show wanted to give the Diamond more dimension, make ‘em less like Disney villains. And it’s also fair to say that the show stumbles in conveying this rationally given the prefacing condition I’ve mentioned before. But is this prevalent theme of trying to make the space nazis sympathetic applicable to saying SU is objectively bad? Well, if you ignore most of the context, this is a probability, otherwise this is very discrepant to what actually happens in the story give or take its few hiccups. We can say Sugar’s development of the Diamonds comes from a fascination of trying to redeem them, hence trying to sympathize with space nazis, but given what we know and what we don’t know yet, I can’t help but say that this is trying to make it deeper than knowingly. Or if so, the writers are doing it at quite a distance, so to speak.

“”The Argument””

Unfortunately, herein lies a problem I’ve noticed with how criticism is made and handled. Lily and others like her can be pretty inconsistent with their arguments that they resort to inventing quotes and problems to make their arguments look irrefutable and their opponents look crazier by comparison. Not saying Sugar hasn’t flubbed up a few times in the past with SU, but Lily is giving her a lot of credit for something she generally invented herself, only to then say Sugar is remarkably unaware of everything she’s doing like she’s Mr. Magoo. Doesn’t help that the woman offers no citations or references to Sugar providing insight on her intentions or goals in the show, no actual commentary on the matter even when such could exist, to actually make her stance objective. She just says that this theme for SU exists, ergo the show is bad for it... Do you now see what I mean when I say that themes aren’t the end all, be all to objective criticism? Especially for a show like Steven Universe where it can either be analyzed incrementally or as a whole when completed? It’s this dishonesty that stifles genuine criticism because whether or not you're in the right of something, this meshing of objective and subjective takes leads to misinformation and the lack of fair discussion because you can stubbornly keep to your stance. And for the fact that her video’s ratings are disabled and the comment section bears nothing but complete agreements with her, I doubt this troubles her.

Again, won’t deny that the Diamonds aren't fascistic in their character, nor am I saying that the story couldn't have been done better with them, but it should be said that this nebulous vitriol towards Sugar, regardless of her executive position, has lead to a far-fetched presumption that I doubt barely anybody is truly behind other than those who just agree with her. Yet this is what she considers the crux of her stance, an idea that hasn't been denied or accepted by anybody important other than herself. Or better yet a stance she finds irrefutable when in reality, it's a subjective opinion that nobody can or has to really deny unless they actually think about it hard enough. I won’t take away this theme, but if Lily’s seriously believing that this makes Steven Universe garbage... well, she is wrong. And you know what? That’s okay.

The Conclusion

With all this, like I said before, this was less about disproving Lily’s point and more about understanding my old perspective. Cuz when I think about it, critiquing media like SU among others helped me understand what I truly like, differentiate between what’s entertaining and what’s good, generally without having to be interpretive or try to make every argument I have “just my opinion.“ I’ve become more... aware of how see things and I’d say that’s better than trying to stick with a single viewpoint. Doesn’t mean I’m critical towards everything I watch, just feels like I’ve grown thoughtful in how I consume media.

Steven Universe is not a show I find to be a favorite anymore, but through many thoughts and realizations, it’s a show I’ll gladly stay tuned to because it is entertaining and makes me think about it in a nuanced way. Again, this response was in no way an active defense towards this show, but overall, I’ll say the show deserves a better look through than this, so to speak.

#su critical #su critique #anti su critical #lily orchard #analysis #su #Roy Macintosh #long post #i'll see myself out

7 notes · View notes

myfeetkeepdancing · 5 years

Text

Unsustainable - (7/9)

!Disclaimer: I do NOT ship the people on the banner or any gifs showing up in the fanfic. They helped me visualize and are part of my writing experience. Much love for Tom Holland & Cody Christian!

Summary: An accident happened in which the reader has gotten powers. The reader is struggling to adjust to his new powers but also to keep them secret from Peter as they become closer.

Pairings: Peter Parker x Male Reader

Word count: 2169

Saturday morning. For what it's worth the friction from last night seemed out the air. Breakfast like a small little family, some small talk. Nothing special. But you can't help but notice Peter is happier, more content with himself. He's smiling more than often. You've always enjoyed his company, sometimes a bit too much. Is he running against the same barrier then you? Who's going to take the first step? Should you? The question keeps circling through your head. Overthinking every sentence like always. What could you have said differently? Would that have cracked the ice? After a gaming session on the console, you both decide to look for some new tinker parts. Scavenge some local alleyways, but first, check out the dump store. May was soon going out shopping, so a tagging along the ride wasn't a problem.

Arriving at the dump store, a list of items in hand and dollars in your pocket. Before entering you continue discussing the items on the list. Peter isn't someone who gets mad or annoyed if he didn't get his way. If you reasoned well enough, he'd let you take the lead. You, on the other hand, could get a bit grumpy for not getting your way. Not your best quality. A couple minutes go by, as you go over the most important items for now. Setting the priorities straight, you both enter. You both start digging through the boxes. Chatting up with the owner, Henry, you always got dibs on the new stuff and the usual discount. Behind the fence in the alleyway was his new stock, handing the key to Peter you continue talking with Henry. As a former electrician, you enjoyed his tips and tricks. Now old and retired, he runs one of the busier dump stores around the block. He gave you the old soldering station which it all started with. Sorting through the boxes, you gather some necessary parts and scrap when your eyes catch sight of the Raven. That feeling in the back of your head, that itch. Now familiar to you. "…Peter's in trouble…" Without glancing in its direction. You walk past the counter, pushing the parts onto the counter pacing quickly outside. "One moment." Turning straight into the alleyway you hear muffled sounds in the distance. Moving on your toes, you skid past the stone wall. The sound becoming clearer. "Who did it Parker!?"

Halfway the alleyway opened up into a large square area. Beside the fenced off storage part from Henry's shop and some fuse boxes and air cons, it was like any other alleyway. Trash littered around the garbage bins and containers as the smell of decaying food and cat litter and piss stenches the area. Approaching the fence, you peek around the corner. In the pile of cardboard boxes lay Peter, his right eye socket swollen red. Towering over him stood Flash, beside him two of his friends. "I-I.. don’t know Flash! I-" Before Peter could say anything more Flash's foot connected right into Peter's stomach. Peter hunches back as he coughs and puffs, curling up on his side, afraid of more hits. Without a second thought, or weighing your options you walk right through the gate. Filled with anger and rage, you don't even try to hide your approach. The adrenaline pumping through your system. You barely notice your shaking hands. Now more than ever could you finally give Flash the beating he deserved. Doing that on school gets you in trouble. Now it was your turn. The last few steps towards him attracted attention from his buddies beside him. Retracting your balled up fist, knuckles white. Ready to bring it home. With one hand on Flash's shoulder and a firm pull, you turn him towards you. Losing his balance, tumbling back on one foot. "Y-…" Is the only response he's able to get out. With every muscle in your arm tensed to the max, you put every bit of force and weight into your hit. Lighting fast, your knuckles strike directly on the bridge of his nose. At least that's how it looked to you. Flash dropping straight to the floor. His hands clamped on his nose, screams of pain and anguish filled the alleyway. Between the screams of Flash and the stinging pain in your knuckles, his buddies got onto you. The bruised skin on your knuckles slowly bled as your fingers hurt from the impact. Maybe you didn't hit him at the right angle. A sudden force hits the side of your jaw. Followed by a blow to your knee, forcing you to the ground.

You didn't see it coming. Your vision blurry, everything doubled. You struggle to get back on your feet, stumbling backward against the fence. Hanging against the fence, you see the vague contours of a figure speeding towards you. Seeing an object above him, you prepare for the impact. As soon as it hits, you charge forward, grabbing his torso and smashing him into a container. In a quick reflex, you step aside, his buddy hunched from the impact. Both hands on his back, you drive your knee deep into his stomach. A final moan sends him to the ground. The last one not taking its chances runs out. "You ok?" Peter's eyes are wide open as he nods while scrambling back up. Seeing Peter's good, you turn your attention to Flash. "F-Fu-u…" His body shudders as you approach. "I'm not done with you yet. You little fu-" You threaten. Dashing onto him, your anger getting the best of you. Punch after punch hit him in the face. Your fingers and knuckles starting to hurt, more blood gradually seep from your hands. His hands desperately trying to block your blows. Two hands pull you off him. "Enough! Let's go!" Falling on your side, you feel yourself being dragged away across the floor. Still managing the get a kick into Flash's side. Peter's arms wrap around your chest, struggling to get you back on your feet. "We should go…" Peter concludes, looking around worried.

Getting back up on your feet, you smack right back into the fence. Sending a lot of noise through the alleyway. Peter darts to your side seeing you struggle. Your left leg hurts, you can hardly stand on it. Let alone walk. The blow to your knee must have bruised something. Clamping your arm around his neck, unwillingly you let all your weight rest upon him. Slowly you limp out of the alleyway. "Henry!" You call out. Pedestrians passing by glance at the both of you with worrying faces, limping out the alleyway like soldiers returning from the frontline. Seconds later Henry appears. "What the hell-“ The older man mummers through his lips. “I’m sorry for-“ You manage to get out. “We are…” Only to be corrected by Peter. You glance at Peter for a second, his cheeks bright red, panting heavily. “-sorry for the mess. Some lads from school were waiting for Peter. Got a bit rough.” You could see the doubt in Henry’s eyes. Thinking about what he was gonna say. “Get in. I’ll call you guys a cab.” Limping past him, the silence in the alleyway was disturbed by wailing in the distance. “I see you got them good.” Turning around you see three figures storming out the other end. “Lesson learned.”

“Nosebleeds are kinda your thing now eh…” Peter remarks with a quirky smile. Small red circles paint the stairs as your limp up towards the front door. You feel the warm blood stream through your nostril and fall down onto the stairs. “May!” A slight tremble sounded in Peter’s voice. It doesn’t take long before the door get swung open. “Guys! Wha-“ Before May could sound her worries Peter had already interrupted her. "(Y/N) beat Flash and his friends up. He got them good. They waited for me in the alleyway near the dump store." May didn't say anything for a moment, assessing the situation in front of her. "You're my hero (Y/N)." Helping you in with a content look on her face. Although May was a person, who disapproved violence, after an honest explanation she saw justice in your actions. Glad that Peter was ok. Glad you were there this time around. The fight was also a relief for yourself. Finally, that bottled up fury let loose. The grudge against Flash fulfilled. Pulling comfort from the thought Peter wouldn't get hit on again by Flash and his friends for some time made you and May happy. May wouldn't let you go home. Insisting you would stay and rest here. The knee itself was red and swollen. Moving it felt sore on the muscles but not that painful. Depending on how the leg was tomorrow May would drive you to the hospital if necessary. May thought though it would be for the best if dad at least knew. She tried to call dad, but the voicemail as usual. The rest of the day was spent on the couch. Completely stretched onto the couch, like you own the place. And no space left on the couch, Peter decides to rest on the floor. Right in front of you. You can't deny that it was somewhat challenging to keep your focus on the movie. Together with pizza, drinks, and movies, it was the perfect night. May even got beers for the occasion, she herself going out for the night. Not too much though she pressed. A promise easy to keep. But drinking just two was enough to become slightly tipsy and giggly. Playing with Peter's hair, pushing the cold beer into his neck. The usual pestering. Peter himself also being tipsy started playing along. And the inevitable while drinking. Taking a piss. Everyone has to after a beer. After the first one, there is no stopping it. Every five minutes, you gotta go. But with Peter supporting you limping to the toilet, and being tipsy was an adventure on its own. The door being just meters away, Peter kept forcing you the other way. You had no other way then obey and follow. Limping across the room, laughing and singing. Deliberately pushing your weight on his shoulder, making him pay for his joking around.

Sunday morning. Slowly waking up you hear faint sounds coming from the kitchen. You slowly open your eyes and are surprised at the brightness. By this time of day, the curtains didn't hold back much light. You assume it's already later in the morning. You eyelids still feeling heavy, you sway back onto your side. Letting your eyes adjust to the light. Your eyes being drawn to the door, as it slowly opens. Your sleepy eyes make out the contours of Peter's face peeking around. "You awake?" You shake your head in denial. "Barely…" Rubbing your eyes with the palm of your hand. "Breakfast is ready."

"Gimme a minute." You groan and moan while stretching every inch of your body. Peter still watching you from the door. You move towards the edge of the bed, pushing the blankets aside. Sitting on the edge, legs dangling. The knee feeling a bit stiff but surprisingly better compared to yesterday. You feel a small summer breeze coming from the window, gently blowing past your legs and back. You give yourself some time, regaining your bearings. "Right…" Scaling the stairs of the bunk bed, you're eyes catch sight of Peter's bedsheets. His dark blue sheets pushed to one side, revealed a white duvet cover. His shorts thrown in there, phone with buds on top. [ 9:36 ] revealed the screen. But the screensaver caught you off guard. One of the selfies you took just before going on holiday. One of many that day. Do all friends this? Overthinking once again. Shaking the thoughts from your mind. You continue.

Peter had disappeared behind the wooden door. Grabbing one of his oversized shirts you follow him into the living room, the smell of freshly baked croissants teasing your nose. Looking through the living room stood Peter, dressed in T-shirt with a chef's apron dangling from his neck. A towel thrown over one shoulder, the other supported by May's hand. "Good morning sunshine!" The dinner table dressed by a red and white tablecloth, colorful cups and plates sitting on top. "Good morning, you've been busy." You voice sounding a bit raspy. "Breakfast worthy of a hero like yourself." May replied. You can't help but smile at the sight of such a breakfast. They really put effort into it. Everything you can think of to start the day perfectly are there. And somehow the things you like are there. Including Peter. Pieces of fruit, cup of tea and warm croissant. Did you mention that to Peter sometime? Fresh from the oven croissants barely touch the plates as the three of you quietly enjoy the breakfast. "Compliments to the chef." You add, eyeing Peter in process. Sitting across Peter, you can't help notice the smile running across his face.

#peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman x male reader #spiderman x male!reader #male reader x spiderman #spiderman oneshot #spiderman imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker tom holland

78 notes · View notes

human-resourccs · 6 years

Text

He Just Likes The Rush - Ch. 7

In which things finally settle down a little and Jon gets put through the wringer.

previous chapter

~2000 words

Jonathan was lucky that he hadn't killed him right then and there, stood at his complete mercy in one of his own traps. Yes, it was definitely luck and nothing more. Another whim of his good mood, and his sense of fair play. Not the look of embarrassment on his face nor his pathetically dishevelled appearance which suggested he hadn't had a good night's sleep since Edward made his escape that first time - the implication of the latter made him swallow dryly. He would not be so quick to forgive, however; if he thought an endearingly sentimental apology note was going to cut it, Jonathan had another thing coming. But… he'd hear him out. This once. the last thing he needed was people thinking he'd gone soft, after all!

He wondered why Jonathan hadn't simply tried to contact him through the regular channels. Making meaningful gestures was Edward's thing. Frowning lightly, he reached blindly across his workbench for his phone; it used an incredibly secure network of his own making. He punched in the numbers - Yes, he had gone out of his way to find out Jonathan's contact details; so he could make a point of not using them, to prove… to prove something to himself - and dialled it in. The startled look that briefly crossed Jon's face made him smirk; there was a sort of audible smile to his tone when the other dropped the scrap of paper and fumbled for the ringing phone in his pocket - startled, but not at all surprised by it.

"Jonathan."

It hung quiet for a moment.

"Edward. I appreciate your not gassing me immediately upon entry."

"Don't thank me yet, I haven't made my mind up."

Jonathan paused, measuring his words. He… wasn't really expecting to actually face Edward so soon already. Ed spoke up again first.

"Not very good at this, are you? One would think one would try harder when their life quite literally lays on the line. Or perhaps you're just getting a kick out of it, who knows? I certainly-"

Jon gathered his breath.

"I'm sorry, Edward. I've no good excuse for what happened. I was simply acting like a complete fool."

He heard Edward huff quietly over the line.

"Yes, you were. Acting like a total idiot. When I was attempting to show concern for you, of all times!"

He had prepared so many speeches in his head to cut Jonathan down in the coldest, most efficient way possible, but this was so… blunt. Utterly honest. Jonathan had put himself at his complete mercy in this way; he had cameras and traps at his disposal. It had thrown him completely off-kilter, honestly. He wasn't expecting this. He was trying to be angry with him, damn it!

He saw Jon glance briefly up to the camera, then away again. If it weren't for the poor monitor quality, he'd have staked a bet that he actually looked guilty. Now that must have been a trick of the light. That was not fair.

"As I said, I've no excuse. And no good excuse for my continued absence after my escape, either."

"Oh, I'm quite aware of what you were up to after Dent's ham-fisted half-assed breakout. Information and intelligence are my most valued commodities. I'm sure it simply slipped your mind during your toxin-induced months-long bender. It's honestly amazing that your addiction to mortal danger hasn't killed you yet."

"…Of course. It had never been my intention-"

"You look like garbage, by the way. You look like you've been sleeping homeless for a month."

He saw Jonathan's mouth hang open, taken aback slightly. Edward bit his lip, trying not to let his sly grin be too audible through his tone.

"I think I can smell you through the camera. If they decide to re-make Castaway I'm putting you at the top of the casting list."

Jon frowned indignantly.

"Edward-"

"No, no. I'm still pissed off at you. You deserve this."

Jonathan sighed an indescribably tired sigh.

He did.

"…I do."

"Good! We're in agreement."

This continued on for approximately twenty minutes before Edward was suitably smugly satisfied with the thorough verbal dressing-down he'd given his friend. More importantly, he had the entire ordeal on disc, which left him with a larger measure of control than Jon could be entirely comfortable with. But this was the exchange for their continued interaction; Jonathan had been equal parts exhausted and impressed by the vulgar creativity he was capable of when he set his haughtiness aside; decidedly dragged through the mud, things were… more or less forgiven. It was a shaky, tentative re-alliance. Edward did not trust easily, he'd discovered.

Following the methodical verbal dissection, Jonathan bid his farewells, went home, and was promptly overcome by the exhaustion he'd accrued over the past couple weeks - he'd actually left to speak with Edward the moment the impulse had taken him; which had been mere moments after waking up from the previous day's escapade. It was a measurably more restful sleep than he'd had in quite some time.

It wasn't until a day or few later that Edward started breaking into his home again; proclaiming rather loudly as Jon came home that if he was going to continue visiting him then the place was going to have to measure up to the barest standards of cleanliness he had! Which, incidentally, was still absurdly high by Jon's standards. This was probably also a passive-aggressive extension of Edward's ire. He wasn't really complaining, despite the resulting misplacement of a fair number of his instruments.

"I mean really, Jonathan. Did you just grow fond of the abject squalor at Arkham? Decide to keep the aesthetic?"

"Been busy, that's all."

"No no no. I've been busy. You've been-"

Edward's sentence broke off with a strangled squeak as he turned and caught sight of movement in Jonathan's hair and his stomach seemed to drop through the floor, then puffed up angrily.

"Is this a joke? "

Jonathan had no clue what he was talking about until he felt the newly-familiar tickling across his hairline.

Oh.

Shit.

He'd forgotten.

Jon's eyes widened a little bit, stiffening in an attempt to quickly correct the situation.

"Now just hold on-"

"Seriously?? Did you really go through all of this just to-"

"Edward."

Something about Jonathan's expression interrupted his thought process- he'd never seen the man look so openly visibly distressed since he'd met him, and an amount of colour had gathered at his cheeks. Edward inhaled, slowly, and relaxed his shoulders.

Fine, fine.

"I am expecting a very good explanation for this."

Jonathan frowned a little indignantly.

"I. Uh... Became quite fond of her. After you left."

"You… got attached. To a spider."

Scarecrow. Self-proclaimed Master of Fear. Had become attached to a small spider. Was letting it nest in his hair. He needed a second to process the catastrophic mental shutdown this information had caused.

There was a long pause.

"...Yeah."

The anger and indignation had more or less evaporated by this point. He clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Jonathan frowned harder - the arachnid came to rest hanging just above his eyebrow. It was too much; he doubled over laughing.

Jonathan was absolutely baffled by Edward's uncanny ability to switch moods at the drop of a coin. His laughter was sweet, though; compared to the hearty fake stage laugh he employed in his criminal performances. Giggling, even. It made that warm sickly sweet feeling swallow up his heart in the way it always does; he was starting to enjoy the sensation. In that brief instant he could've told you with total conviction that he'd make a fool of himself a hundred times to see Edward collapsing into uncontrollable fits of giggles and snorts like this. At least he could attribute the burning in his cheeks to embarrassment; his face had remained the picture of indignation while he worked through the emotional short-circuit he'd just suffered.

Edward lifted his mask ever-so-slightly in order to wipe the tears out of his eyes.

"I can't believe you- you- replaced me with a spider! I suppose now I'm going to have to compete with it for your attention like some sort of trashy rom-com, aren't I?"

Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

Gotham (particularly the GCPD) was incredibly grateful of the re-alliance that they were never really even aware had occurred. From the city's point of view, the Riddler and the Scarecrow simply finally toned down their frantic activity a little and everyone could rest a tad easier for it.

They settled back into the rhythm of before; enjoying one another's company. Edward abjectly refused to get within 5 feet of Jon for a while so long as his companion - lovingly dubbed 'Aria' by Edward, who flatly refused to let Jonathan choose a name with the argument that he would undoubtedly pick something so embarrassing she would run away from home - remained on Jon’s person.

They'd settled into a comfortable silence in Jon's living room, it had passed quite late into the evening and they were content to remain in each other's presence while Jonathan scribbled horribly untidy notes of theories and formulae into his worn old notebook and Edward overthought things that he knew didn't really matter.

the journal wasn't even old, Edward mused, watching the other's hands work quickly down the pages. Things just seem to look weathered when they stay in proximity to him too long. It's like he has an area of effect that just causes furniture to age. Fascinating.

He rested his head in one hand. Drew a long breath. Something about the atmosphere, the bizarrely intimate silence finally caused a welling up in his chest that made Edward speak up.

"…I'm colourblind."

The quiet scratching of pencil against paper came to an instant stop, but Jonathan didn't look up. Edward paused, heartbeat quickening. Why did he admit that? He'd never revealed this weakness to any of the others. This… mistake in his biology. A defect he could never truly fix. He'd nothing to gain from it. But then, nobody had spared the fraction of time it took to even ask before Jon had. Whether it was because he was simply curious or because he cared; it didn't matter. He'd paid attention and after all was that not all he demanded people do in order to become more intelligent?

"You asked why I never take this mask off. I'm severely colourblind. Short-sighted, to top it off."

Jonathan set the pencil down quietly. Ed swallowed.

"I'm telling you because I trust you won't abuse this."

There was an unspoken threat behind his tone.

"Completely deuteranopic. Greens, reds, and purples. I always did enjoy taking things I was told I couldn't have. These-"

He pressed a finger to the edge of his mask.

"Are corrective. I created the tech with my own two hands. I detest having them removed and being reminded of the irritating imperfection. Amongst other things. That's all there is to it. Trivial, really."

As he spoke, Jonathan had turned to face him - an obvious question resting on his features. He wasn't really capable of grasping just how difficult the admission was for Edward, but… he had a sense of it. The notion of being trusted with such information made it feel as though his chest might crack open with the effort of trying to contain the rogue emotion.

"Thank you, Edward." Was all he could muster in response; hoping that the emotion in his voice could put across what he didn't have the words to convey.

Edward held his gaze for a few impossibly long seconds more before the intimacy of the moment became more than Ed could comfortably tolerate without babbling anxiously.

"Seriously. If - If you tell anyone about that, I'll tear you and your stupid little spidery companion apart, you hear me?"

Jonathan laughed.

#jonathan crane #edward nygma #scarecrow #the riddler #danny writes

10 notes · View notes

tigerlover16-uk · 6 years

Note

What do you think of the argument from Super's detractors going around lately that Dragon Ball should have gone the route of Yu Yu Hakusho, and not have had any continuation series or other new stories made of it after Z (or at least GT) ended?

I can understand why they would think that. But I would hate it if that were the case

I get why people would think that, the Dragon Ball manga is a classic and a great work of fiction. I can understand people wanting to keep it “Sacred” or whatever. Some series really do need to end at a certain point, and some franchises can go on forever, and it can be a problem when a company tries to take a series from the former category and make it into the latter, only to drive it into the ground. I’ve seen that happen with shows I’ve loved, so I get the concern people have.

I also don’t care in this particular case.

It’s not a case like Naruto, where the story devolved into garbage long before it could reach a satisfying conclusion. Dragon Ball has what is essentially a complete story from the start of the manga to Goku going off to train Uub at the end.

No matter what the franchise does afterwards, we’ll always have this great, classic story. I believe the only real way for it to be tarnished is for fans to let Dragon Ball be ruined FOR them. It’s the same reason I’m not so worked up over how SpongeBob’s quality went down after the first movie, because the first 3 seasons and the movie will always be great no matter what and fans are free to ignore what came after if they don’t enjoy it.

And the fact is… I WANT more content. I want more Dragon Ball shows. I want to see a series set after EoZ starring Uub and Pan. I want spin-offs. I want more movies and specials, side manga, video games, I want lots and lots of new stories!

I want to see more stories featuring all of Dragon Balls great characters. I want to see Android 17′s family, and some interaction between them and Krillin’s family. I want to see Tien being a martial arts instructor at his dojo. Toriyama said he’d like to do a gag manga starring Mr Satan and Majin Buu, and I’d like to see that. I want to see Marron fleshed out into a more interesting character, maybe have her become an accomplished fighter.

I want to see the new characters introduced in Super better fleshed out and given more stories to feature in. Give me a Pride Troopers anime. Give Jaco an ongoing series following on from his own short manga. Give us an OVA about the Kamikaze Fireballs or Katopesla or the Trio De Dangers. Give us a story where Vegeta and Goku get to visit plant Sadala in universe 6 already. Give Kale a backstory and flesh out her character better, fix some of the issues her writing had in the current saga. Give us a movie about Hit.

I want Dragon Ball to go on forever. I want to explore every character, every corner of the multiverse, every last bit of interesting story potential there is to offer. I want more lore, more development for a lot of characters, more slice of life stories and cute shippy moments like we’ve been getting in Super. I want more epic fights that make me throw my fist up into the air and go “WHOO!”

I want… I just want more.

Call me selfish. Call me greedy and inconsiderate or that I don’t have the series best interests in mind. (I do, for the record, I want this content to be GOOD and I am capable of being critical of stuff). But I don’t care.

I love Dragon Ball. It means more to me than any other series. The kind of joy and fulfillment it filled me with as a kid was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced from any other series I’ve watched or read since. And it’s always felt like a part of my soul has been missing in the time since i finished watching all three of the old anime as a kid, and it only came back when Battle of Gods and then Super itself became a thing.

I know Super is flawed, that it’s screwed some things up. but it’s also been the biggest source of comfort in my life for the last two years I’ve been keeping up with it.

Because i never really thought Dragon Ball would come back. Sure, before Battle of Gods we did get the occasional new content. The Yo! Son Goku and his Friends Return special for example (Which i always found underwhelming anyway), and some less than stellar ovas like Episode of Bardock and Plan to Eradicate the Super Saiyans. Dragon Ball SD was fun, I could never find most of the video games that came out last decade, especially since i didn’t have the means to buy things online until about Christmas 2013. And Kai was a thing, but that was just Dragon Ball Z minus the filler and with a much better dub. And for some stupid reason the Dragon Ball Heroes content still hasn’t made it’s way Westward.

But none of this stuff really satisfied me. I was still desperate for more. When i heard Battle of Gods was a thing it felt like a Godsend, even if it was frustrating to wait for the dvd to come out. But even then I didn’t expect we’d get an actual new series, with Resurrection F on the horizon I thought the occasional movie and special would be the best it was going to get. I can’t even tell you how happy I was when Super was announced.

So, I can’t relate to people who want Dragon ball to have just ended completely with Z. Because as much as I love the series and revisiting it, I’ve never been satisfied with the relative drought of content since i finished watching it. I don’t want Dragon ball to end, to go away, or be relegated to the occasional side media. I want to be drowned in new Dragon Ball content every year of my life.

I love other shows, games, movies, comics and manga, etc. There’s a lot of franchises that fill me with joy and make my troublesome mess of a life feel bearable and worthwhile. But none of them compare to Dragon Ball. My life would be a lot worse off if Super wasn’t a thing, if Dragon ball had just largely been left alone after Z or GT ended. heck, the main reason i hated GT so much is BECAUSE it tried to be a definitive end for the series while not telling any really worthwhile stories to me. And I don’t ever want to go back to waiting years at a time for scraps of content.

And luckily it doesn’t look like I’ll have to. We’ve been getting a lot more video games that I’ve really loved, like the Xenoverse Series, Fusions and FighterZ. We have a new movie to look forward to this year, and even with Super supposedly ending, that recent interview that Herms translated all but confirms that there WILL be a new Dragon Ball series coming up relatively soon, and that Toriyama has more plans for where he wants to take the story.

And the Dragon Ball Room is a thing now, showing that Toei is committed to producing as much new fun Dragon Ball content as possible into the foreseeable future, they’ve already given us Dragon Ball Fusions and that Reborn as Yamcha manga, both of which were enjoyable.

So, I’m very happy with how things are looking. Yeah, there are problems, but that’s to be expected. EVERY major franchise is going to have bad content from time to time, that’s to be expected. but it’s not the end of the world as long as we do continue to get good stuff, and honestly I’m actually pretty hopeful that Toei is going to take this brief hiatus with Super and learn from the mistakes they‘ve made to give the next Dragon Ball series a longer, better planned out production schedule so that the next series turns out as good as it can.

And if some people don’t like the recent content? They still have Dragon Ball and Dragon Ball Z. Those series and the manga are never going anywhere, they’re still as great as they’ve ever been. Sorry if those people can’t enjoy the recent stuff, i feel for them, but that some people inevitably won’t be satisfied is not going to stop me from being optimistic and looking forward to future content, because I’ve waited half my life for Dragon Ball to officially be back and I am going to make the most of it.

Argue all you want that I’m self-centred or that I’m wrong, but I don’t care. This is how I feel, I want Toei to make as much new Dragon Ball content as possible. So far I’m mostly happy with how things are going, and I don’t want things to slow down anytime soon.

#dragon ball super #dbs #dragon ball

13 notes · View notes

octranslations · 6 years

Text

Haiiro no Ginka Volume 48

Haiiro no Ginka vol. 48 September 2010

Translation Credits:

Toshiya Aibiki no Mori - Risu Mu No Koufuku, Sanretsusha To Kubi/Happiness of Nothing The Assembled Neck - kirei_hukkatsu edited by Cammie & Risu Gansonaki Kaoruya - Cammie Die Meisyo De Meisyu - Cammie Shinya Dr. nemunemu no daigyakusyu - Nao DIR EN GREY at TOKYO TRANSFER - Cammie News and So On - Cammie

Toshiya Aibiki no Mori

This is the new skirt that I am wearing from the first day of THE UNWAVERING FACT OF TOMORROW TOUR2010.

Of course, SHELLAC’s Mr. AKINORI and Mr. ATSUSHI made it for me, the skirt this time was made with much enthusiasm and turned out to be an item with a pretty high quality

They used leather on the hip portion and added more pleats, above all Mr. AKINORI who has been friends with 13 THIRTEEN from before used a 13 THIRTEEN custom order buckle for the hip belt clasp thus making it even more luxurious.

It was made so well that a girl from the office exclaimed if there is female version of this skirt, I want one too!

I am always very grateful to Mr. AKINORI and Mr. ATSUSHI from the bottom of my heart. Thank you very much!

And, this was way back but here is one picture of when I went out for drinks with Big Brother WUMF [Wake Up Mother Fucker (J)] and coincidentally RIZE’s KenKen was there and it somehow became a BASSIST drinking session.

I wonder if you know whose hand is who? (laughs)

Well lets meet again on the next “Aibiki no Mori”!

Mu No Koufuku, Sanretsusha To Kubi/Happiness of Nothing The Assembled Neck

...I am sleepy?...tired?…I really don’t know... When you're concentrating like hell on something, the brain secretes adrenaline. ...what a selfish guy...I feel that things that I can concentrate on are extremely less than ordinary people. Furthermore rather than the common average level of concentration, powers of memory, my brain tissue feels… as crappy/shitty as Alice in Wonderland.

Right now, it’s fine as long as I am able to just focus 120% in composition, writing lyrics and during lives...

I am changing the subject but recently it feels like there are more strange/weird people… is it because they are young? Or is it because humanity is rotting, which is it? I really would like for them to stop this pointless behavior and behavior that they would seem to regret afterwards This is not just lip service/empty talk because this is what I really think, and what I am hoping for. To be specific it’s the garbage at the live venue…why can it be thrown there? There is a lot of garbage in the box [venue] where we played…is that okay? Don't you hate it when there is a lot of garbage in front of your own house?

I don’t remember if I’ve said this before but There is nothing more beautiful than something immaculate/pure, and that is cruel The more I think it’s beautiful, I feel that I am become dirtier But while I’m happy in realizing this, I feel like i’m being left alone in a stark white space/room/void. At that time I’m very sad and lonely But this feels like as if I found something important again, and I think that I should cherish this time. Such a weird feeling.

If everyone has also experienced this moment, I would like for you to try not forget it and cherish it

Well I have a tendency to talk about these things or hard/difficult/tough/serious things every time but I am not a good person in any way (laughs) I don’t know what but it is true how I am desperate to change something and I am going all out to confront myself.

People who give their everything when doing something are amazing, and you really get empowered too. If we could have a live with only those people, somehow something amazing could be born with this amazing feeling of oneness and that is exciting Even now I am a die-hard rebel (laughs), but I think that for those people who come to our lives, buy our CDs, and feel something from us, I really don’t want to betray them, and I want to keep on fighting/struggling onwards I think I am going to sleep soon…

It would make me happy if you were able to feel something this time again.

Kyo

Gansonaki Kaoruya

Are you guys doing well? The tour ended with a blink of an eye; this is Kaoru.

The tour was short this time, but for the band, I think this was a productive tour. I began to see many challenges from here on after too. But the overseas tour will continue for a while. The content (of overseas tour) will have songs we want to do at the moment, so it will differ from this tour. Everyone must be like “Do new songs~!” but “If we can, then we will!” I think I would just like to go on without deciding on anything.

In any case, it’s been a while since I got uptight in South Korea. 40 minutes before the show, the Macbook for the tour crashed and I felt really frustrated. The festival staff told us that the time can be pushed back a little bit since they wanted us to do the live in perfect condition, and we managed to recover the files and did the live. I’m very appreciative of them. But if we had a little more time, we would’ve been able to do it at a better condition...

I think that was the first time where I was glaring at the Macbook one minute before the actual show.

And now I’m in London, but during Sonisphere, my equipment had trouble and it was a disaster... I may go somewhere to get my bad luck dispelled once I go back (to Japan).

It really hasn’t been a while but you see various things at lives. There are things you’ll never realize when you’re in a studio or have encounters. And be able to drink together with a group of friends that you haven’t seen in a while. There was an incident that made me realize how all groups of friends are a part of me and are an important existence. Everyone, please cherish your group of friends!

Then, everyone must be wondering about our new song release since time has passed quite a bit after “Hageshisa~” but They’re (songs) getting finished bit by bit, so just wait a little okay~

So let’s see each other soon!

Die Meisyo De Meisyu

I, “with this-> 1 (laughs)", quit smoking...

Good bye AMERICAN SPIRIT!!!!!!!!!

So, I just came back from the U.K. and Russia lives yesterday.

After I went back to my home, I slept for 12 hours. It’s been a while since I slept this much. It may be the first time this year. Even for this tour, there wasn’t a day where I’ve gotten a good sleep. That would make me sleep for the whole day. I guess it would be the best to encounter a pillow that will be the perfect match and bring it to tours.

But as rumored, Russia was very hot. At least have the airport cooled! Seriously! Plus, due to the forest fire (which I didn’t know at all), the moment we got off the airplane, it was smoky; and when we went outside the sky was covered with smoke. This may be the first time to see such an eerie atmosphere. And what I thought “this can’t be happening” occurred. The car we were on from the airport to get to the hotel didn’t have air conditioner... Of course the window is open but only the warm wind and smelly smoke came in. When we got off the airplane, we couldn’t get out of the airport due to luggage problem for about 2 hours, and when we thought we finally got out of there, we were in the car without air conditioner for about 2 hours. Give me water. Seriously, I was feeling dizzy inside the car. What is this survival? During this time I always remember the tours in Japan. It’s heaven. I guess overseas will not let us be spoiled yet. Well, tolerance is necessary for human beings and you should never forget how to endure. I should be thankful of how there are still situations that toughens us up.

(After arriving to the hotel, we went to go eat Chinese with the staff, but it extremely tasted shitty and our day ended there.)

I seem to be complaining, “It’s hot, it’s hot” but the venues at the 2 shows in Russia were both endlessly hot. European venues are old buildings and they usually have bad ventilation. The heat inside the venue made me feel dizzy and my hand playing the guitar was all wet and since it was slippery, I was messing up a lot. My sound was getting damp and I think it was losing its force...

But for the situation where the entire venue wrapped up in heat and a couple of everyone’s “screw” jumping out where it’s definitely not calm, I don’t hate it. When I used to play at small live houses, this kind of situation made me feel that it was the actual live and I think there were times where the amount of sweat determined whether the live was good or bad. When we are in Japan, we are at a very fortunate circumstance. We have the best staffs that have supported our stage for many years too. But at overseas, we have little or no staff. We naturally don’t have a stage director and the person in charge of lighting is our operator, and for equipments, we have the minimal things differing from what we originally have. The only thing that hasn’t changed is the 5 people standing on stage. These kinds of situations let us destroy what we created during the domestic tour in a good way. This obstacle must be training us. You can’t gain this kind of experience when your environment is always laid out.

I want to be stronger more and more. To the point where I can fight without wearing a strong armor.

So that no matter what kind of situation we are under, DIR EN GREY can be DIR EN GREY.

Translator's Note

1. The pinky finger at the beginning have two known meanings in Japan. The first one is how you use a pinky finger to make a promise. The second meaning is female, usually a lover when someone (well, wiki also says this, but I've also only heard guys ask this question in this way) asks"?? (this)" and puts up a pinky finger.

Source Wikipedia

http://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E5%B0%8F%E6%8C%87

(Sorry, there is no English translation explaining this...)

Shinya Dr. nemunemu no daigyakusyu

And so, let’s begin this volume’s Nemunemu. I have thought of writing Korea, England, and Russia where I’ve been this time but it’s almost surprising that there is nothing especially interesting to write about so there’s nothing especially interesting written . So, let’s begin.

Nemunemu Diary ~Korea, England, Russia Edition~ July 24 We went to Korea a day before the live. Onboard the plane, I just read One-Piece1 that I placed in my iPad. (Refer to last volume) Before I knew it, we arrived at Korea and unsurprisingly/expectedly we ate yakiniku2 From midnight the staff will be setting the equipment at the venue so I went there to check if Dr. Nemunemu’s drumset was prepared well. It was sort of tough but at least the minimum requirements were there. I did some various settings and returned to the hotel at around 5 o’ clock in the morning.

July 25 It’s the day of the Korea live. It’s a festival so there was no rehearsal and it was immediately the performance itself. Just before the performance there was computer trouble and it was chaotic until the last moment but we somehow managed to get it ready for the performance and began Zan the first song. And then, the sound from the monitors facing Dr. Nemunemu was weird. While performing, I instructed George who was behind me a couple of times but I couldn’t hear any of the other members’ sound or my sound, I could just only hear noise. Until the end I played by instinct without it being fixed.

July 31 England. As always, on the plane, it’s One-Piece. In the beginning I didn’t know what was especially interesting but it became more interesting when I read until volume 45 but in order to understand more I went back to volume 1 and began reading. Then, we arrived at the hotel. We were going to stay for 4 nights in that hotel. This time it’s 2 people in 1 room so I was in the same room as bassist T but, lo and behold, it’s a room with only 1 double bed. The 2 of us were saying things like, hey, is this for real?, it’s going to be like this for 4 days and such. And after a few hours it was meal time and when we met up at the lobby, we talked about the bed with the others and surprisingly all the other rooms had 2 beds. So we swiflty had our room changed to have 2 beds.

August 1 For equipment check we went into a studio today. The drum set was almost perfectly prepared. And when I checked the monitor during the nightmare at the Korea, lo and behold the earphone cable was dead. It was good to know the cause of it.

August 2 It’s the festival in England. Our turn is at 2pm but because the venue was far from the hotel we departed at 8 in the morning. The live, performance-wise ended without a hitch. I wanted to see other bands but when the interviews and such ended the roads were packed so we immediately went back home.

August 3 Today was an off day. Well there wasn’t a place I especially wanted to go to so I stayed in the room and read One-Piece for the entire time.

August 4 Before the live we were at BBC Radio from the morning and recorded a song. After that we went to the live house. We were able to do the rehearsal well and we were able to perform perfectly it was a really good live.

August 5 We then moved to Moscow. The tempreature is 37C degrees. On top of it being really hot it seems that there are brush fires nearby and the city is covered with smoke. And then we arrived at the hotel after 2 hours using car with no air-conditioning. And when I was simply changing the channel of the hotel’s TV, surprisingly One-Piece was on! Moreover it was in Japanese! It was the first time I heard all of their voices.

August 6 It’s the Moscow live. It’s also hot outside but inside the venue it was extremely hot. After the live, I sweated so much that you can wring sweat out from my white shirt. The drum set completely lacked parts that it was a very difficult set but performance-wise I was able to play well.

August 7 Woke up at 7 in the morning and we went to St. Petersburg. We arrived after a 1 1/2 hour flight. Again, the drum set was different so I went to the venue with a staff for equipment check. Today was also a tough drum set but I was able to give my best.

August 8 It’s the day to go home. The flight was around noon but from the hotel to the airport, it’s 30 minutes if the traffic is light and 4 hours if it’s heavy like a sense of time that I can’t comprehend so we left the hotel early in the morning. We arrived in 40 minutes so I concentrated on One-Piece. And for the transfer at Paris for 5 hours I waited with more One-Piece and also on board the plane.

Well, was it a tour where I went to do lives or read One-Piece, but surprisingly there is an iPhone App that when you buy a rice ball at Lawson you get a character stamp on your iPhone, and if you collect 5 you can obtain a big secret treasure; indeed an App that was made for Dr. Nemunemu who loves both One Piece and iPhone has appeared. Morever, it starts from August 10 which is why, since no one can match up to me with One-Piece, I brought along the boastful/bombastic roadie George after the August 10 drum recording ended to play it.

First, download the app. This is where you put in the stamp. The recording was in Shibuya so I opened the app in Shibuya and looked at the map. You could see who is there at which Lawson in one glance. As expected of Shibuya, there are a lot of Lawsons so the characters are complete.

When I activated log pose it showed the way to the closest Lawson.

We arrived at the first Lawson by following this.

Then when I typed in the number in the receipt of the rice ball that I bought in the app, Robin’s character was stamped in.

And then we arrived at the second Lawson.

This Lawson is located in a questionable/sketchy area and there were questionable/sketchy adults hanging around so I wasn’t able to take a photo. There I bought another rice ball in the store and Nami was stamped in.

This is the third Lawson.

I bought another rice ball and I got Zoro’s stamp.

And the fourth Lawson.

In the app explanation all rice balls are eligible so without aiming/choosing I got a fermented soybean(natto) sushi roll.

What the !! There is no number printed on the receipt!!! The sushi roll was not an rice ball!! If I buy another rice ball to fix this, the store person will probably think, ‘Ah! this guy is collecting One-Piece stamps and made a mistake by buying a sushi roll’ which is why I wanted to go to a different Lawson. But according to the map, Chopper is here and in the Shibuya area, Chopper is only available in this Lawson. So I just endured it and bought 1 more rice ball. It didn’t show on the store keeper’s face but I can see him laughing inside.

Well, I went through that much trouble but I got the Chopper’s stamp.

And the fifth and the last Lawson.

I bought a rice ball and brilliantly got the final stamp. It did not even take one hour total. There seems to be a weird skeleton stamp here. This guy hasn’t come out on volume 45. Who is this???

Anyway, there are still 3 characters left but I can apply for the big secret treasure prize so let’s apply. You can choose among the three prizes. Firstly, for the first 30,000 people, a post card set.....hmm...I don’t need that..... Next, for the first 5000 people, a clear file set.....hmm...I don’t need that......And next, 100 people will be picked to get a metallic kung-fu ace figure...hmm.....I don’t need that....but, anyhow I will pick this one. Which means I didn’t really need the goods but collecting the stamps was fun. Because it’s a game especially done with the iPhone. As expected of the iPhone. If I had an iPhone during my childhood I will be an even more exceptional adult. Okay, 3 more people to go so I guess I will go for the second round. So this means it’s the end. This volume’s present is a drum head with Chopper’s portrait according to the painter Nemunemu. People who want this should write to ?106-8691 Japan Post Box [a knot] Nemunemu present staff with their member number, address, name, age, phone number and feelings about Dr. Nemunemu’s large counter attack. ( Long messages will have bearing)

Finally, I just noticed this when I took the picture of all the 6 rice balls I collected!

I bought 2 shrimp mayonnaise rice balls!! I even confirmed with George that I seem to have bought one already. And since he flat-out said, “You haven’t bought shrimp mayo.” so I believed him! So remember what you just did a few minutes ago! That goes for Nemunemu as well.

Until the next issue.

Translator’s notes: 1 One-Piece is a long-running sh?nen manga written and illustrated by Eiichiro Oda, that has been serialized in Weekly Sh?nen Jump since August 4, 1997. (sourced from wiki) 2 Yakiniku (??? or ??), meaning "grilled meat", is a Japanese term which, in its broadest sense, refers to grilled meat dishes. In North America, China and Taiwan, Yakiniku is also referred to as either "Japanese barbecue" or "Korean barbecue" due to its Korean origins. (sourced from wiki)

DIR EN GREY at TOKYO TRANSFER

After playing in South Korea, U.K, and a first-time visit to Russia, DIR EN GREY has spent a dense hot summer . In addition, they only returned for 2 weeks and went on to North America where their stay in Tokyo was indeed a period of “transfer”, but even with the small amount of time, they used it for their creative activity. In between their precious time, the 5 members told this only to “Haiiro no Ginka”.

Interview: Yuichi Masuda

?Your first live since the domestic tour was on 7/25 at “Pentaport Rock Festival” in Incheon, South Korea. I guess there are many things you do not want to be reminded of...

Kyo: ... (Wry smile) Die: Out of my memory, that was the worst live out of the past shows Toshiya: That’s the truth (laughs). Simply put, it may be the environment’s fault, but if we bring that up, it becomes an excuse. The moment I felt myself relenting, I felt like “I lost”.

?Was the reason due to equipment problem?

Kaoru: The Mac we were using became no good 40 minutes before the show where it stopped working all of the sudden. We asked to get our back up Mac immediately from our hotel, but it arrived at the time when our show was going to start. We had to begin our performance without making adjustments, and everything was a mess. The staff were all caught up with that and the set up was not done properly. That effect literally showed up during our performance. Kyo: After the live was over, we actually laughed. Like “That was crazy!” (laughs) Die: I never felt a live to be so long. I thought, “Please just end!” I think the staff felt the same way too. Shinya: In my case, on top of that, the cable for my ear monitor was dead. I could only hear noise. Die: The staff had a hard time too. They began setting up the day before and it took until 7 in the morning, but due to their (festival) situation, they had to start all over again on the actual day. Kaoru: In any case, it was a day where nothing went right (laughs).

?That was unfortunate. There must have been a sense of hunger for the local fans since you guys have been distant from them for many years.

Die: That was there. Something like anticipation. Kaoru: So we want to go do a proper live again. Kyo: Yep. It was really frustrating. We did “Zan” for the first song. We wanted the first blow to go off with a bam, but the moment it began, we didn’t know what we were doing. We just depended on luck or just go with our gut feeling. Kaoru: We brought along the lighting staff and we were planning on making a stage with an atmosphere, really.

?When you wanted to create chaos there was already a real one prepared (laughs). So, one week after that nightmare, you guys went on stage for “SONISPHERE” in the U.K.

Kaoru: Here, my equipment had problems. Since there was the incident at South Korea, I thought, “Well, it’s fine as long as we’re able to make sound.” But that sound was really, really small where you couldn’t hear it at all. Die: Really, you will become festival-phobic (laughs). Kyo: When the live began, I could only hear the drum and my singing, and from there, my excitement fell. At the part where everything should go with a roar from the beginning of the performance, we could not hear anything we needed to hear at all. Shinya: I didn’t have any problems. I was able to do an equipment check the day before and I was able to fix the monitor problem.

?Wasn’t the reaction wonderful? Out of all your festival experience too.

Kaoru: True. The people were not waiting for the band playing after us where there were many of them that came to see us. Die: Once our performance began, there were many people that gathered as if they were getting sucked in. Toshiya: The stage itself felt good. We didn’t have any actual proof in a sense where what we were doing was delivered clearly, but 2 days later, the ticket for our one-man (live) at KOKO increased right after “SONISPHERE”, and I was happy when I heard about it. There must have been many people that thought, “I want to see them again.”

?That must have been a happier news than selling out on the actual day. By the way, for the “SONISPHERE” stage, you performed part of “Prowler” from Iron Maiden right?

Kaoru: That was the first time where we included someone else’s song into our songs and performed it. The headliner for that day was IRON MAIDEN, so for the people that never heard of us before, we thought it can be a good catalyst to get to know us. Since our band would be the one that would be highly unlikely of doing this, I thought it was all right to do it once in a while (laughs). Die: Yep. It’s not like we will be doing this every time from now on (laughs).

?After “SONISPHERE” ended, squeezing in a day off, you had your solo show in London. I thought the live at KOKO was simply good. It could be said to be at the best live level.

Kaoru: It was very easy to perform. Due to what happened at the previous 2 shows (laughs). The performing environment and setup was very good too. Kyo: Also, the stage should definitely be dark (laughs). During the festival, it was still bright during our time. The construction of the venue also had an atmosphere, which was good. Shinya: There was no problem concerned with playing. Toshiya: We were able to play with a good feeling. I immersed myself into the live, but there was a sensation where our feet reached the ground.

?But right after the live that felt good, you returned to the hotel and prepared yourselves to depart to Russia 5 hours later. I went back ahead at that point.

Die: Russia was just so hot. London was nice and cool. Kaoru: During live, we were just sweating to the point where that was the only thing I remembered. Kyo: Normally, as the performance goes on, the audience’s excitement increases right? But everyone was so exhausted and their excitement went down (laughs). The live went well, but you know, we were sweating to the point where there was a puddle underneath our feet... Die: I felt like I was playing desperately as I felt dizzy. My guitar was all wet from the sweat and it became slippery too. The live was easy to do though. Shinya: I sweated to the point where I could wring it from my attire... However, the drum I got from the local area did not have enough parts set and it was not a satisfying situation, but aside from that, the monitor environment was good so I guess it was not bad.

?You landed on Russia for the first time. Was there any sensation you felt because this was a place visited for the first time?

Kaoru: Naturally, since this was our first time, rather than people not knowing how to get into it, the crowd was small. It was like 5 years ago when we first played in Berlin. Toshiya: I had this selfish impression of this place to be a closed country, but regardless of this thought, I felt a strong sense of hunger from the audience. The degree or the type of yearning to burst was a little different.

?Did you have any time to explore the town in Moscow?

Kyo: The entire town was covered with smoke due to the forest fire, so it didn’t look pretty at all. It was tough wearing masks during a hot weather. Die: The scenery felt as if it was clouded. We passed by Red Square, but it wasn’t a time to take a commemorative photo. Kaoru: After the live was over, (tour manager and PA in-charge) Rick suggested, “Why don’t we go to Red Square on the way back to the hotel?” But every was like, “No thanks. Let’s just go back (laughs).” Even during that hour, it was still hot. Kyo: It was like, please undestand (laughs). Shinya: Even for food, there wasn’t any good impression... The Chinese food we ate on the first day was strange too. Kaoru: That tasted awful. But after the live was over, we had pizza as usual (laughs).

?The next day after the Moscow show, you moved on to Saint Petersburg and went straight to the live.

Die: We had a tight schedule. We went with on an airplane while the equipment moved by train. Toshiya: The place had more open feeling than Moscow. Including the building, it had a very European feeling. I would like to go there again. I would certainly like to go to Moscow without the ash covering up the place (laughs).

?By the way, after the 2 shows in Russia, you guys had a hard time returning back to Narita Airport right?

Kaoru: It took 23 hours (laughs). We first flew to Paris and afterwards it’s a direct flight to Narita, but we had 6 hours of waiting time in Paris. Shinya: I just kept playing around with my iPad. Kaoru: Everyone gathered where there was electricity (laughs). Toshiya: Honestly, it was tough. If we slept there, a weird jet lag will begin. After returning, we already knew we had work starting so I wanted to adjust my body clock.

?So after you guys came back, there was work every day awaiting, and without any break, you guys departed for the North American tour from 8/21. The conversation from this point onward will be for the next issue.

Die: I look forward to it. We had a single live with KILLSWITCH ENGAGE before, but this is the first time to have 2 bands on an equivalent relation. Kaoru: APOCALYPTICA’s live is beyond my imagination, so there is a part where I can’t predict. But we will not do a live that just gets wild either, so it may mesh well and turn into an interesting feel. Kyo: Yep.

?They are a “quartet cello metal” after all!

Shinya: But they have a drummer right? I hope to gain some inspiration. Toshiya: Yep. It would of course be wonderful if we can get along, but that is not our purpose. First I would like to get some inspiration. And as a result, if we can have good relation with them, I think that would be great.

News & So On

Foreign bands challenge North America!! Since the release of “UROBOROS,” their 3rd North American co-headlining together with APOCALYPTICA that are formed with 3 cellists and a drummer from a well-known music school, was decided in July. APOCALYPTICA that has gained strong support from many famous bands all over the world mainly collaborating with vocalists will be with DIR EN GREY. Being complete “foreigners,” what kind of shock will these 2 bands create in North America this summer?! Including Canada that has not been visited for 1 year and 9 months, their TOUR report during their trip to 16 cities will be told in detail on the next volume! Stay tuned!

Comeback to the night that will shake Japan!! Their second appearance in 4 years to the largest domestic metal festival, “LOUD PARK,” has been decided! The line-up for 10/15 (Sat.)DIR EN GREY includes Korn and Stone Sour, which the band hasn’t met since ‘06 “Family Values Tour,” solo project HALFORD by Halford (vo.) from JUDAS PRIEST, and HELL YEAH formed by the members from PANTERA and MUDVAYNE. These are all artists that have achieved prominence in the world’s music scene! After gaining experience at overseas stage in “Download,” “Wacken,” and “Sonisphere,” how will their comeback to “LOUD PARK” turn out?!

Hot topic! A flood of interviews!! On 8/1 (Sun.), we arrived to “Sonisphere Festival” after a one hour drive. The venue was a peaceful area filled with green rural scenery, and it was overcrowded with people covered in metal t-shirt and TATTOOs. Right before the LIVE, they had a photo shoot for the group photo that was going to be posted on the official site, and off they went on stage. For LIVE report and detail of the actual location, please take a look at Mr. Masuda’s article. After the LIVE was over, the surging interview time has started! Due to booking by Mr. Adam who is in charge of UK promotion, there was a schedule made to have 10 interviews in 2 hours (one interview on average of 10 minutes!). In addition, there were 3 more included after seeing the LIVE, and there was photo shoot for “Rock Sound,” and a photo shoot for a group shot was decided in a hurry at the “Kerrang!” booth! During the LIVE, more than 30 photographers went in and out in front of their stage where we were able to observe a high anticipation towards DIR EN GREY.

#haiiro no ginka

6 notes · View notes

rememberstilinski · 7 years

Text

now or never || dylan o’brien au

word count: 11,502

warnings: cursing, fluff, and soul crushing angst (y’all can thank soph @sincerelystiles for that one)

author’s note: this is a 50′s era au and it is so long and i am genuinely so proud of this! thank you to my girls @sarcasticallystilinski @dumbass-stilinski @sincerelystiles @mf-despair-queen @sabrinas-wolves @thelittlestkitsune @dylan-ohbrien @ninja-stiles and @minhosmeanhoe for letting me constantly tease them with sneak peeks! enjoy! :)

paring: dylan o’brien / reader

masterlist

coming soon

“Two households, both alike in dignity.

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene.

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.”

“You know, Cody. This is one of the many reasons why you and I will never, ever be together!” Y/N spat, her words rolled in venom. Her eyebrows scrunched angrily causing Cody to just laugh.

What Y/N often called a sorry excuse for a man smirked. “Sure thing, princess. You'll be back.” He waved her off, walking somewhere else in the diner. She watched him walk off and plop down in a seat with multiple girls surrounding him, pining over him. He sure did seem to be enjoying himself. The cocky look planted on his scruffy face, only made her angrier.

She couldn't have cared less about the girls he was dating, or who he was with because she didn't love Cody. She didn't even care about the ‘rule’ of their gang. The leaders of Omega were supposed to be a boy and girl and they were also meant to be together, but being with Cody just made her insides twist and not in a good way. For one, he was extremely cocky, obnoxious, and just plain terrible. How she ended up in this gang alongside him would forever be a mystery to her.

Turning on her heel, she spun to walk back over to her strawberry blonde friend, Holland, and sat in the seat next to her. “This is why I consider leaving, Holl. You're the only one keeping me here at this point.” She huffed, arms crossing over her chest and leaning back against the chair with her legs crossed in a ladylike fashion.

Holland sighed. “Y/N, you know how he is, he'll apologize and grovel at your feet for forgiveness, just let him cool off.”

“No, Holl! I don't want to be with him, I don't see why that's everyone's biggest concern.” She pulled a tube of lipstick out of her black high waisted pants along with a compact. Whenever Y/N was frustrated or angry, she reapplied her lipstick and lately that was something she'd been doing a lot around Cody. Looking into the mirror, she ran the red stick over her bottom lip and then her top lip, rolling her lips and smoothing out the freshly applied makeup.

“You know what I want, Holland. I don't want to be with him, I want to be me.”

Holland set her palm over her best friend's hand comfortingly as she smiled softly. “I know and when you figure out whatever that is, I will be here to support you.” She pulled away and grabbed a five dollar bill from her purse.

“Go get us a couple milkshakes. And I will go choose some new music.” She handed her the money. Y/N nodded and they both stood up from their seats. Holland going towards the jukebox.

“Strawberry, right?”

“You know it!” Holland winked. Y/N giggled and turned around, her own body colliding with another. She immediately squeezed her eyes shut, ready for the impact, but before she could fall on her butt, a pair of arms caught her. Her eyes slowly fluttered open to be met with a pair of whiskey eyes that she could only ever imagine seeing in her dreams. She looked at the rest of his face. The brown hair on his head slicked back nicely, but she wondered what it would like if it was just a little messy or unstyled. His pink lips slightly parted. Moles and beauty marks scattered around his face, long eyelashes hitting his high cheekbones every time he blinked, but it was almost as if he stopped blinking.

The stranger pulled her back up, the palm of her hands against his chest as his hands were firmly pressed on her back. Their eyes still locked on each other's. One of his friends, some guy clad in a leather jacket with a mop of curly hair on his head cleared his throat, snapping them out of the spell they had one another under. She pulled away from the stranger slowly. “Sorry about that, love. I should've been looking where I was going.” The whiskey eyed boy smiled, his smile knee weakening.

“That was totally my fault. My apologies. Good thing I didn't have the milkshakes I was going to buy yet.” She bit her lip, trying to hide the smile that was desperately trying to make its way onto her face and shook her head.

The boy chuckled, the sound nearly music to her ears. “Don't hide that beautiful smile you got there.”

A blush heated her cheeks. For her this was all new. She was never nervous around guys. Usually, guys were at her feet, begging to take her out for the night in their in their cars as a way to impress her, but that's not what she cared about. She didn't care about what car a guy had or if he smoked cigarettes. It just didn't matter, she cared about personality. How smart he was, how funny he was, how kind he was.

Cody was none of those things.

“I'll, uh, I'll see you around.” She said softly. The guys behind the gorgeous stranger walked ahead of him to find a seat. Y/N walked around him, going to order the milkshakes. The stranger followed behind his friends, but his eyes stayed on the girl he'd just caught in his arms as she walked over to the counter.

A voice called from up ahead. “Hey, Dyl.” His attention went back to his friend, Tyler, to see him sitting in a booth, his arm resting on the table. Dylan adjusted the leather jacket he was wearing and took one last look at the girl before waking to the table and sitting next to Tyler and across from Daniel and Sprayberry. While the other three guys got into a conversation about this party they decided to crash and where the girls in their gang were at, Dylan kept his eyes on Y/N. He watched her walk back to her table with two milkshakes in hand, sitting next to her friend. He recognized her friend, but couldn't place where he'd seen her before.

Suddenly his eyes landed on one of the people he hated most in this world. Cody Christian, the primary leader of the Omegas. Dylan being the leader of the Alphas automatically made Cody Dylan’s number one enemy. He had heard there was a secondary leader of their rival gang, a girl, Cody’s girlfriend, but he'd only ever heard of her. His eyes followed Cody and saw him walking over to the girl he’d saved from falling angrily. He grabbed her wrist, yanking her up from her seat and began to say something but he couldn't make out what was being said.

Dylan sat forward, ready to beat him up if he so much as hurt her. He clenched his jaw, waiting for his queue to walk over there. The second he saw Cody pull his hand from her wrist and spotted a bruise, he stood up and stormed over to the girl’s table. He put his hand on the small of her back and stepped in front of her, face to face with Cody.

“What are you doing here, you rat?” Cody seethed.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing, but you used better language than I was going to. Leave her alone, Cody.”

“It's none of your business what happens to her, Dylan. What are you doing here anyway? This is my territory.” Cody crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“Maybe this territory shouldn't have such garbage on the premises. I mean, it's a quality establishment. Wouldn't want your presence ruining that, would we?” Dylan smirked. Y/N’s mouth parted in surprise at what the stranger she could now call Dylan had said to her gang’s leader. Someone finally had the courage to say what she'd been wanting to say all this time and it was amazing to hear him get a taste of his own medicine.

Cody scoffed looking behind Dylan and over to Y/N. “This is kind of pathetic. You need someone else to stand up for you. You really are a princess, aren't you?”

Dylan looked at Y/N, seeing her demeanor fall, but she picked herself back up right away. She grabbed a vanilla milkshake off her table and stepped towards Cody, Dylan scooting to the side, his hands in his pockets. At this point, everyone in the restaurant was looking at Dylan, Y/N, and Cody. The only sound was the kitchen workers and the music from the jukebox. “Trust me, I can stand up to you. And if anything. . .” She brought the tall milkshake glass over his head and dumped it upside down, the contents spilling over his hair and onto his body, some dropping onto the floor. “. . .I'm a queen, not a princess.”

She set the glass back down on the table. Dylan put a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing, but that didn't stop everyone in the restaurant from doing so. A chorus of laughs sounded from everyone who saw the scene. Grabbing her jacket, she put it over her shoulders, pulling her curled hair out from underneath the clothing. She smiled at Holland who had a smirk on her plump lips. “Bye, Cody.” She teased and stepped over the puddle of milkshake on the tile ground. Her tone of voice only made Cody angrier and it was quite possible that the ice cream was melting on his head.

Y/N got out of the restaurant as fast as she could, not wanting to deal with Cody while he was angry. Smirking, she realized what had just happened. She just threw a milkshake on to Cody, and it felt amazing. The clicking of her heels against the asphalt drowns out the calls behind her, but a hand placed itself on her shoulder, causing her to turn around. The whiskey eyed boy from earlier was standing in front of her with a smile.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked.

“Okay? I'm great!” She giggled. Dylan chuckled and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he walked alongside the girl of the diner.

“That was amazing! If only I had a camera to capture that moment.”

Y/N smiled at the boy and brought her right hand out of her jacket pocket, offering it for him to shake. “I'm Y/N.” He took her hand and shook it. The moment their hands touched, it was like a spark shocked the both of them. But it wasn't a spark that would cause either of them to pull away, in fact it made them both want to hold on longer. Neither of them knew what it was. Neither of them knew what the shock was or why it happened in the first place. However, they did know one thing. They were going to fall for each other. It seemed to be inevitable. Like the gods had painted their fate in the stars.

When their eyes met in the diner, when he caught her and saved her from falling to the hard floor, it was as if something shook. It felt like the earth beneath their feet shook and things were getting started. Their stars were aligned and their fate was falling into place. Dylan and Y/N didn't know if this was a love that would last, but it can be assured they'd always love each other

Dylan looked to his hand, the foreign shock still pulsing through his body. “Uh, I'm Dylan, but my friends call me Dyl.” He reluctantly pulled his hand away just as Y/N did. Clearing his throat, the two continued walking in the warm summer night.

“Hey, do you want to go somewhere?” He asked out of the blue after a few moments of walking in comfortable silence.

Dylan looked up at her to see her nodding her head in agreement. “Yeah, of course. Where to?”

“It's a surprise! ”

“If this is you asking me on a date, you could've just came right out and said something. I would've let you down easy.” She teased with a smirk.

Dylan laughed. “How do I know that you would say yes if I was being straightforward?” He raised an eyebrow.

Y/N smiled softly, eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “Well, I guess if tonight goes well, you can just ask me out and I'll be straightforward with my answer?”

“Sounds like we have a deal.” He guided her towards his car. It wasn't in the best condition, but she could tell that he was looking to get it fixed. “Sorry, it's not looking its best. I just got her and I'm hoping to spend more time fixin’ her up this summer.” He told her as he patted the hood.

“Don't apologize. If anything that's pretty cool actually. You care enough to want to fix it up by yourself. I like that.” She opened the passenger side door and slid in, sitting next to Dylan in the leather seat. “So, where you taking me?”

“You'll see.” He smirked. “Like I said, it's a surprise!” Y/N crossed her arms and grinned at him.

“Take me away, Romeo.” She laughed as he started the car and drove down the street, taking many turns during their drive. As he drove, Y/N couldn't help but look at the boy sitting in the seat next to her. His face was silhouetted by the bright light of the moon, but she could make out the dark shadow of the beauty marks on his face. His slightly parted pink lips and the corners being tugged up by a natural resting smile. The thought of one person being so perfect was ridiculous. In her mind, there was no such thing as ‘true love’ or ‘love at first sight’ because in all honestly, they just seemed like cover up reasons for being shallow and falling in love with looks.

But here he was. The boy who had the capability of changing that belief in an instant. A total stranger to her, but with him it was different. She just couldn't place what had her thinking this way and it scared her, but thrilled her at the same time. It was a love that could be potentially beautiful, but dangerous in an exciting way.

“It's not nice to stare, you know.” Dylan chuckled looking from the road, his left hand gripping the steering wheel as his fingers gently held onto his chin.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, but ignored his comment. “Are you going to tell me where we're going yet?”

Dylan pursed his lips as if he was thinking, but he already had an answer in his head. “Mm, no.”

“What?” She laughed. “For all I know, you could be taking me somewhere to kill me. I mean, pretty boys are usually the serial killers, just saying.” She held up her hands defensively.

“Aw, you think I'm pretty?” He said, faking his bashfulness and putting a hand over his heart affectionately.

“How are you not offended by the serial killer part?” She asked, smile still on her face. Dylan was very good company and in the half hour she's known him, she already preferred her time being spent with him as opposed to Cody.

“Don't get me wrong, that hurt. Deeply wounded in the soul, but you gotta look at the positive instead of the negative.”

“In that case, yes, I do think your pretty.”

Dylan grinned and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, as he did so, she scooted closer his side. Liking their position. “You know, you're growing on me.”

“Because I think you're pretty?”

“No, I was just messing with you. You've got a good sense of humor, you're sassy, and not to mention, show stoppingly beautiful.”

Y/N blushed and kept quiet, looking out the windshield. The rest of the drive was silent, but there was some music playing softly throughout the car. Dylan finally pulled into a parking lot and stopped the car. Looking around, she automatically realized where he had brought her.

O’Brien Family Pool

“The swimming pool?” She asked a little confused as to why they were there of all places. He pulled the keys from the ignition and smiled as he looked at the gated pool.

Dylan nodded and opened the car door, getting out and Y/N followed after him. “Yeah, it'll be fun. Do you trust me?” He asked, offering his hand to her.

She glanced down to his hand and sighed, setting hers in his palm. “Strangely enough, I do.” He pulled her to the gate and used a pin to pick the lock. Once it was finally opened, he stepped aside and let her in first. It was an outdoor pool and every light except for the underwater ones were turned off. The water was completely still because it hadn't been touched in a couple hours.

“We don't have any swimming suits, Dyl.”

All he did was smirk and shrug off his leather jacket and kick off his black converse. “Then we go in our clothes.” Y/N smiled and took off her jacket and black heels. She walked to the edge and bent down, putting her hands in the water but immediately retracting them because of the coldness.

“It's cold.” She told him, chuckling and standing up. The light from underneath the water made her eyes glisten, but her smile seemed to make them brighter.

“Oh, come on. It can't be that bad.” He shrugged.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine, you go in.”

“Not without you, baby.” Dylan said, winking at her. He walked toward her, standing near the edge of the pool.

“Maybe you just need a little push.” Her hand went to his shoulder pushing him into the water, but taking her by surprise, he grabbed her hand as he stumbled back and he pulled her into the water along with him. She let out a startled scream as their bodies hit the water and went under. The two of them sunk to the bottom and she opened her eyes, looking at him and he was looking back at her. There were water bubbles around his nostrils and his slicked back hair was all messed up now.

Y/N’s beautiful eyes were squinted due to the water, a smile gracing her features as she looked at Dylan. Her hair floating around underneath the water and the lights shining through the strands. They swam up to the surface and wiped their eyes of the chlorine water when they broke through.

“What the hell was that?!” She asked, laughing.

Dylan smiled and his eyes gazed at her face. He'd seen her smile so many times in the night they've spent together and he could safely say that it was slowly becoming his favorite thing to see. He swam closer to her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him. “We’re here to swim and we kind of have to do that in a pool, darling.”

Y/N laced her hands together behind his neck and bit her lip, feet coming off the ground and her legs going around his waist. “It's kind of cold though.” He leaned in, his nose bumping into hers. Their breaths mingling before their lips finally attached. Eyes fluttering closed at the touch. The shocks from earlier were more powerful this time. It felt like there was actual electricity. This only spurred on their actions, they could feel their hearts racing because of the euphoric feeling they were feeling in this moment. His fingers hooked underneath her chin, deepening the kiss. He drew a small line on her lip with his tongue, asking for entrance and she allowed, moaning when his tongue ran over hers.

She pulled away and opened her eyes. Swimming backwards, she decided to tease him and make him follow her. He did as she predicted and swam over to her. He was close enough to kiss her again, but she pulled back just a little bit and he kissed her top lip and then both her lips. She put her hands in his cheeks, smiling as their lips caressed each other repeatedly.

“Your lips still taste like that milkshake from earlier.” Dylan mumbled against her mouth and she chuckled, the vibrations going over his lips. “It's sweet and tastes good.”

Before she could say anything back, they heard footsteps from outside the gate. He pulled away and looked at her, his light brown eyes widened in panic. “Go underwater, I'll stall whoever it is.”

She did as he said and took a deep breath before going under the water. While she was under, she could hear muffled voices. Dylan's and some other person that she didn't recognize. The voices were gone after a few seconds because the conversation was quick and he tapped her shoulder as a signal to come back up.

“Did you get in trouble?” She asked immediately.

He laughed and shook his head, placing his lips back on hers. “No, I just told John I dropped my house key in the pool and I needed to get it back.”

She put her palm on his chest to stop him from kissing her again so she could speak. “You know him?”

“Well, duh. This is my family's pool.” He shrugged.

Y/N gasped as she realized who he was. “Your name is Dylan O’Brien?” She questioned, voice shaking.

His eyebrows furrowed at her tone of voice but he nodded anyway. “Why is that a bad thing?” He cupped her cheek, thumb running over her bottom lip.

She rolled her lips between her teeth and her face fell. Nodding, her eyes began to water. “Yeah, Dyl. That's a bad thing.” She pulled away from him and swam towards the edge of the pool where the steps were. She got out of the pool and squeezed her hair of the water.

“What? Why? Did I do something?” He came out after her. His white t-shirt stuck to his chest and his happy trail was visible through the material. If she wasn't in this situation, she would've said something about it or took her time to admire it.

“No, you're amazing.” She mumbled, eyes falling to her bare feet and staring at her red toenails. He walked over to her and lifted her chin so she was looking him in eyes. “You're perfect.”

“Then what's so bad about who I am?” He asked softly.

“Dylan, do you know who I am?” She looked up at him.

He shook his head. “Am I supposed to?”

“I'm your rival. Your sworn enemy. I'm an Omega gang member.”

He looked taken back and he took his hand away from her as stepped backwards. “Y-you're the girl that's with Cody? You're Cody’s girlfriend?” He said angrily.

“No! No, trust me! I am not Cody's girlfriend and I never will be.” She rushed over to him and cupped his cheek. “But I am on the other side. We can't be together.”

Dylan sighed and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. “Let me take you home.” He mumbled into her hair. She nodded and wrapped her arms tighter around his torso.

Later that night, his car was sitting in her driveway. The both of them in complete silence. On the drive to her house, they didn't sit as close as they did earlier. They sat as far away as possible from each other. An uncomfortable, itchy blanket of silence laid over the two of them and they didn't know what to say. He turned off the engine and sat back in his seat, hands on his lap as he played with his fingers. Y/N looked at her house. All the lights were turned off and she assumed her whole family was asleep.

“Dylan?” She mumbled softly, looking over at him. He looked to her, his face dropped in sadness. “I did have a great time tonight. You should know that.”

“Yeah, I did, too. It was a, uh, great start to my summer.” He nodded. “With a great girl.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek softly, silently thanking him for all he'd done for her in the time they spent together. With one last glance at the boy she could feel herself beginning to fall for, she got out of the car and waved goodbye before walking to her front door.

Dylan sat in his seat for a few seconds wondering if he should go after her. He watched her walk away and realized that a stupid rival wasn't what was going to keep him from this wonderful girl. He opened the car door and ran after her. “Y/N?” She turned around and looked at him as she walked up the front steps. He got to her and pulled her in, placing his lips on hers gently, tongue immediately finding its way into her mouth.

“We-we can't.” She whispered breathlessly.

“Yes, we can. We can do this. We shouldn't let who our friends our or what gang we’re apart of keeping us from being together. I like you, Y/N. And I know, I know we just met and it's crazy of me to say this, but I can feel myself falling for you. I don't know what it is, but I want to fall in love with you. I want you.” He said gently.

“I don't believe in ‘love at first sight’ or ‘love at first kiss’ because that's only in fairy tales, but with you, that all seems real. And I don't see myself staying away from you. I like you a lot and I want what you want. I want to fall in love with you, Dylan.” She smiled and he returned it, pulling her into another kiss.

Dylan pulled away and pushed a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “Let's do this. You and I together. But this has to stay a secret. No one can know about us. Not your friends and not mine. Not even our best friends. No one. It will cause unnecessary trouble and I don't want that.”

“Agreed.” She nodded and they sealed the deal with another passionate kiss.

And that moment; that moment of impact was when their stars aligned.

Y/N was fanning herself with her hand, her other hand holding up her long hair as she walked around the garage. “Dyl, it's hot outside. Let's go do something.” She whined. Dylan chuckled from underneath the hood of his car.

“Like what?” His silky smooth voice asked.

“Like the beach?”

His head came up from underneath the hood of his car, unstyled brown hair a mess on top of his head, his white t-shirt stained with black grease, dirt, and car oil. Even the black jeans he was wearing had obvious brown powders on them, the dirt coming from him bending down to grab another tool. “In case you haven't noticed, I'm out of a car at the moment.”

Letting her hair down, she walked over to the car, leaning against the driver’s side. “I have a car, you know? We could get a couple burgers from the diner and maybe some Pepsi’s and then we can go to the beach for the rest of the day.” She smiled softly. Dylan wiped his hand across his forehead, dirt smearing on his skin. He walked over to her and stood in front of the girl.

“That sounds amazing, it really does. But, I'm not done here.” He sighed. Y/N’s small smile fell and she looked down to her feet. Her painted baby blue toenails peeked through the tops of her open toes heels. She crossed her arms over her chest disappointedly.

Dylan felt bad putting a damper on her mood, he lifted her chin with his slender fingers. “Tell you what, give me about half hour,” he said looking at the engine and giving a guesstimate while Y/N made eye contact with him; “and then I'm all yours. We can go to the beach and afterwards we can come back here and lay in the grass, looking up at the stars, spend the whole night with each other.” He smiled.

“Are you sure? I don't want to bore you or anything.” She told, truly meaning her words. Her hand moving to cup his, his right hand having moved to hold her cheek.

He chuckled at her response and rubbed his dirty thumb over her skin, smearing a line of dirt. “You never bore me. I would love to spend the rest of my day with my favorite girl.” For the last couple weeks they'd been spending every waking moment together and he was beginning to think he would love to spend the rest of his life with his favorite girl.

She pulled his body closer into hers and she caught his lips with hers. Smiling into the kiss, she wrapped her arms around his neck, eyes fluttering shut, and her fingers running through his soft hair. The same sparks were still there, even after a few weeks and they showed no sign of ever dying down or fading out. The kiss was short, but sweet. “You make me so happy, do you know that?” She whispered against his lips, forehead resting against his.

Dylan rubbed his nose against hers lovingly causing a giggle to spill from her plump lips. He smiled at the sound and it made his heart flutter in his chest. “You make me just as happy, my love.” He kissed the tip of her nose sweetly. He pulled away and walked over to the soda pop fridge on the other side of the garage. Opening the door, he pulled out two glass bottles of ice cold Pepsi. Dylan popped the lid off both of them and handed her one. She thanked him and took a small drink of it.

As he watched her, he noticed that she still had a smeared line of dirt under her eye. He walked over to her and wiped the smudge away. She looked up at him, a smile on her face as she swallowed the soda in her mouth. “Did I have something on my face?” She asked.

Dylan nodded. “Yeah, there was smeared dirt, but it's gone now.” He leaned in and kissed the spot where the dirt was, Y/N’s face beating up with a blush. He got back to working on his car and like he said, within thirty minutes he was done for the day and they were getting ready to leave.

“You go shower and I'll meet you back here.” She told him as she grabbed her small purse.

“I think I'm fine just like this.” He joked. “Let's go.”

He started walking towards her, but she placed her hand on his strong chest halting his movements. “Not in my car and you need a swimming suit, babe.”

Rolling his eyes playfully, he let out a sigh. “Fine. I'll be ready in ten minutes, see you soon, doll.” He kissed her goodbye and she walked to her car which was down the street. Whenever they were together, they made sure to keep their cars as far away from each other's destination in fear of being caught. The sneaking around was thrilling but difficult at the same time. She didn't like hiding their relationship. She wanted every girl to know that he was hers. Dylan was insanely attractive and that's quite the understatement, she saw how girls looked at him and it made her jealous. She wanted to be able to tell her best friend that she was with this amazing guy who treated her right and made her feel important. He was a gentlemen and never gave her the same kind of treatment that Cody did. Dylan was everything Cody would never be and she loved that about him.

He cared about school, his family and friends, and other important things. Whereas Cody only cared about popularity, his car, and girls. There was no denying that she was falling hard, but she knew that Dylan would be there to catch her before she hit the ground just like he did the night they met.

The drive back to her house was full of thoughts of nothing but Dylan. He makes her happy and every time she thought of him, she couldn't help but think of his smile or his adorable laughter. The way his eyes sparkled in the sunlight when they were driving in the car with the music blasted. How he'd start belting out lyrics off key and he'd do a little dance in his seat with his fingers drumming against the steering wheel.

With love still on the brain, she got home and walked into her house, up to her room, and grabbed her two piece swimming suit. She stripped of her high waisted white shorts and navy blue shirt. The swimming suit bottoms she would wear were black with white polka dots, they came up a couple inches above her belly button, her top was the same color and it had two thick straps that tied around her neck, the top gave her breasts a push up and she smirked in the mirror because she knew that Dylan would love it.

Before leaving once again, she grabbed a towel, white rimmed sunglasses, and a picnic basket they could put their lunch in. She also made sure to grab her polaroid camera and a few rolls of film for just in case. She met back at Dylan's house and knocked on the door because he wasn't outside when she got there. Y/N expected him to greet her at the door, but instead his mom opened the door revealing a beautiful, teenage girl she'd never seen before. “Hi, can I help you, hon?”

Y/N got nervous because this was the first time she'd met either of his parents and this wasn't exactly the way she wanted to do so. She smiled nervously and waved shyly. “Uh, yes. I'm Y/N, I'm a… friend of Dylan's.” She stuck out her hand and Dylan’s mother took it, shaking it.

“How come I've never met you before?” She asked and stepped aside, letting the girl inside the air conditioned house.

“Dylan and I met not too long ago.”

“You seem like a lovely girl and you're very beautiful. Everything my baby deserves.” His mother smiled.

Y/N blushed and Dylan walked down the stairs to see his girlfriend speaking to his mother. “Hey, you're early.” He interrupted their conversation.

“Actually, you're late.” Y/N laughed.

Dylan's mother crossed her arms over her chest and turned to her son. “Aren't you going to introduce me to your lovely girlfriend?”

“Oh, I'm not his-” Y/N went to speak, but Dylan cut her off. He stood next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder pulling her into his side.

“Mom, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.” He smiled down at her. Although she was surprised that he'd told someone their secret, she grinned at his words. “Y/N, this is my mom.”

“Aw, you guys are adorable. Let me grab my camera!” His mom lightly squealed and rushed to grab the family camera. She came back and the two were still smiling at each other with nothing but affection. The flash was what pulled them out of their trance and they laughed. After a few minutes, the couple left hand in hand with smiles on their face. Dylan held his towel and his sunglasses were on his face.

“Why did you tell her?” Y/N asked as they walked down the street.

Dylan shrugged and looked at their laced fingers. “Because you're the girl for me. The one I want to take home to meet my family and the opportunity came so I took it. I don't like keeping us a secret either. You're all that matters to me.”

“You really like me, don't you?” She smiled bashfully.

“More than you know, Y/N.” He kissed her cheek just as they got to the car. He threw his stuff in the back seat along with hers and he went to sit in the passenger's seat, but was stopped by Y/N.

She held up her keys in front of his face. “You drive.”

Dylan's eyes widened. “You've never let me drive your car.” It was true, she loved her car more than Dylan loved his and she's never let anyone drive it. Not even Holland. “You really like me, don't you?” He repeated her words from earlier.

Y/N’s grin grew bigger at his response. “More than you know, Dyl.” She put them in his hand and rounded to the passenger's side and buckled in after reaching behind her to grab the camera from the backseat. Dylan got in her usual spot and started the car, the engine roaring to life. They started driving to the diner and they both sung along to the lyrics from the radio.

Y/N’s front seats were just a straight across two seats in one. She put her feet up and Dylan's lap, her back against the door as he ran his fingers over her legs while he sang. The sun was illuminating his face, a genuine smile at the corners of his lips and it was a perfect photo opportunity. Y/N lifted the camera up to her eye and pressed the button, the sound of the shutter clicking grabbing his attention.

“What're you doin’ over there?” He chuckled.

“Just taking picture of my boyfriend. You?”

“Singing to my favorite girl.” He blew a kiss at her. Y/N scooted closer to Dylan, her legs still in his lap. She brought her hand to his face and pushed it closer to her lips gently, her soft lips pressing against his skin. She trailed kisses across his cheek and down his jaw. They weren't lustful kisses, but sweet.

They arrived at the diner and Dylan went inside to grab their food and drinks before the headed to the beach. The rest of the day was them playing in the sun and splashing each other in the water. Luckily, no one from either of their opposing gangs were there and they weren't seen together by any of their friends. It was just them, but they didn't care if they got caught. They were together and that's all that mattered to them. As long as he had her and she had him, it was perfect.

Y/N and Dylan got back to his house around ten thirty and they showered before going outside and laying on a blanket in the grass together to look at the stars. Y/N rested her head on Dylan's chest, his fingers rubbing the skin on her neck. “I wish we could buy people stars.” She said suddenly, breaking their comfortable silence.

“Why?”

“Because then I would buy one.”

“For who?” He whispered as the sound of crickets came from the background.

“You, of course.”

Dylan smiled tiredly. “Would you name it after me?”

Y/N shook her head against his chest. “I would name it after me, so that whenever I'm not around, you can look up at the sky and know that a piece of me is with you. You might not be able to see it all the time. but you know it's always there for you. Just like I am.”

“Well in that case, I’d buy you one, too.” He mumbled, blessed to be here in this moment with this wonderful girl.

Holland had been rambling on for what felt like forever about this guy she'd met at a party the other night. His name was Max, but that was about all Y/N got out of Holland’s talking. Usually, she would listen to anything her strawberry blonde friend had to say, but with the boy she'd secretly been dating for almost a whole month across the diner, it was a little hard to pay attention.

She’d walked into the diner with the rest of the Omega gang twenty minutes ago and saw that Dylan and the Alphas were sitting in their usual corner. Cody was still giving her the cold shoulder from the milkshake thing. If he did talk to her, it would be about how she looked like she rolled in a pile of dirt today. Even with his nasty insults, she thanked him for wasting his breath and ignored them because she knew they weren't true. Not with the way Dylan was looking at her from his booth with Tyler, Daniel, Sprayberry, Shelley and Crystal.

His table was in their own conversation, but just like Y/N, Dylan was checked out of whatever his friends were talking about. The secret lovers just looked at each other, almost having a silent conversation. Their eyes were filled with love and they could both see it. Just pure love. Dylan smiled at her and winked, Y/N blowing him a kiss after tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. All she wanted was to grab his face and kiss him with everything she had, but she couldn't. Not here anyways.

With their eyes still holding contact, Y/N nodded her head towards the door as she silently asked him if they wanted to leave. Dylan looked at the door and nodded. He turned to his friends, excusing himself.

“Five minutes.” He whispered so only she could hear when he walked by. His hands were in the pockets of his blue jeans and he just wore a white t-shirt instead of his leather jacket. His feet in black converse, his hair slicked back as it usually was when he went out.

Y/N turned to Holland who was still talking as she swirled her straw around in her milkshake. She was finally listening to her best friend, but she was just hoping to pass time so she could go and see Dylan and be in his arms again.

“Hey, are you okay?” Holland stopped her sentence to ask her fidgety friend a question.

“I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?”

The strawberry blonde sighed. “You seem really antsy. Is there something up? You've been like this for the past few weeks.”

Y/N relaxed in her seat and crossed her arms, popping her bubblegum. “I'm fine, Holl. I promise. It's just, Cody is getting under my skin.”

Holland understood Y/N’s hatred for their leader, but it didn't explain why she had been so secretive. Holland knew Y/N like the back of her hand, she knew when Y/N was lying, when she was angry, or when she was hiding something. Deciding not to press the issue because Holland knew that her best friend would tell her whatever she was hiding when she was ready.

“I know that's true, but there's something else, isn't there? I'm not going to pressure you into saying anything because I know you'll tell me when you're ready.” Y/N’s hand was covered by her friend’s reassuringly and was offered a small smile.

“Thank you, Holl. I have to go to the ladies’ room, but when I come back, I'm all yours.” Y/N smiled and stood up from her seat walked away, walking past Cody on her way to the back. Cody turned and watched her walk off, noticing how she looked back to make sure she wasn't being watched. His eyebrows furrowed, what was she hiding from him? He made a mental note to confront her about it later.

Y/N walked towards the bathrooms in the back, but thankfully there was an exit out of the diner. She pushed opened the door which led her to an alley behind the hangout. Dylan was leaning against the wall with a cigarette in between his lips. He took a drag and blew out when he saw his girlfriend approaching him. “That's going to kill you, you know.” She reminded him as she did many times before.

Dylan smiled and threw the cigarette butt on the ground, rubbing it into the asphalt with his shoe. He grabbed her hand, pulling her closer. “You're going to kill me, especially when you look like this, so I'd say you're the worst drug, baby.” He kissed the corner of her lips, his prickly stubble tickling her as he did so. She giggled and squirmed in his arms, placing her hands on his chest.

“You're such a noodle, Dyl.” She laughed happily. Her laughs had officially became Dylan's favorite sound in the world. The more he made her do it, the better it sounded. He pulled away and looked at her, his eyes loving every single thing about how she looked. A smile ghosting at her lips, her little freckles on the bridge of her nose. Everything about her was perfect to him.

“I'm your noodle.” He whispered, the three words being dorky, but meaning the world to Y/N. She leaned in and brushed her lips over his, electrifying goosebumps rising on both of their skin. Dylan caught her lips with his, he hummed in happiness when they were finally connected. He could feel her smiling as he kissed her. Her hand moved up to the side of his neck, her thumb rubbing over his jawline. Dylan walked her back towards the wall where she softly leaned against the brick. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her body closer into his.

She took her lips away from his and looked at his face, red lipstick marks on the skin around his lips. Smiling at her markings, she kissed his cheek and trailed her lips down his neck. He sighed in content, loving this situation. Loving her. She brought her hand to the collar of his shirt and gripped them when she placed her mouth back on his. Her eyes closed at the sweet touch.

“Why do your lips always taste like milkshakes?” He laughed breathlessly.

Y/N shrugged. “Because whenever we kiss, I've had a milkshake. Do you not like it?” She asked worriedly.

“No, no. I love it.” He smiled and pecked her lips repeatedly. “I love you.” He whispered with his forehead against hers.

She pulled back and looked at him, her hands on his face, fingers in his hair. “You love me?”

Dylan nodded happily and pushed a piece of hair behind her ear, smiling at her as he did so. “I do. I love you so much. Whenever you're around with me, I can't help but feel the happiest I've ever felt. My heart races every time you touch me or when you kiss me. Even when I see you, I feel like my heart is pounding an imprint into my ribcage. I don't care about who you are or what gang you're apart of. That doesn't matter to me. Like I said when you met my mom, Y/N Y/L/N, you are the girl for me. I love you and I just want to be with you now and forever.”

“I didn't believe in love before I met you. I didn't believe in ‘love at first sight’ or ‘soulmates’. Then I fell for you, literally.” She giggled at her joke and Dylan laughed as well. “I saw you that night and I knew that you were meant to be mine. That I was meant to fall in love with you. I've never been allowed to be myself, but when I'm with you, I feel like I can always be myself. I can say what I want to say, do what I want to do. Our love is written in the stars, Dyl. The gods couldn't have made anyone more perfect for me. They couldn't have made a love more perfect for me. They couldn't have made you any more perfect for me than you already are. I'm falling in love with you and I don't want to stop. I-I love you.” Her voice broke at her confession, but thankfully, no tears spilled from her glossy eyes.

Dylan kissed with her every nerve, every fiber, and every molecule in his body. He kissed her with all the love he had to offer. And that was another moment of impact. Their first confession of love for each other. She kissed back with just as much love. Y/N kissed her boyfriend back with just as much force and power. Her kisses made it seem like it was just them in the world. Everyone in the world was just white noise and them being together in that moment was the only thing that mattered. Her kiss dissolves the universe.

“Y/N?” A feminine voice interrupted their moment. The couple pulled away and looked to where the voice came from. The redhead companion of Y/N’s was standing by the door wearing a shocked expression. Her mouth was parted in surprise and she looked as if she stopped breathing.

“Holland, let me explain.” Y/N begged. Holland crossed her arms, pursing her lips, and nodded. Dylan pulled away from Y/N hesitantly, not knowing what the future would hold for them after this conversation. He grabbed her hands and kissed her knuckles softly.

“I love you.” He whispered against her skin and walked away, her fingers slipping through his touch. He walked past Holland and gave her a tight lipped smile and back into the diner.

“This is what you've been hiding from me?” Holland walked over to her friend. Y/N nodded slowly as Holland crossed her arms over her chest. “How long?”

“A month. Since the night I met him.” She sighed.

Holland put her face in her hands as she stood in front of her best friend. “Why didn't you just tell me? I thought we were best friends.”

“We are! Holl, you're one of the only people who knows. No one was supposed to know about us.”

“Someone more important knew before I did?” Holland asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It's his mom. He introduced me to his mother.” Y/N laughed slightly. “I didn't tell you because if anyone knew about me and him, who knows what would happen.”

“Y/N, you can't be with him. We're rival gangs, a full on war would break out if anyone were to find out about you two.”

Shaking her head, Y/N refused. “No! You can't say that to me.”

“Think of our gang. Think about Cody. You know what would happen to O’Brien if Cody were to find out about this relationship? He would kill him. He hates the Alphas, Y/N. He wouldn't hesitate for a second.”

Y/N’s heart began to sting as she thought about what would happen if Cody were to hurt Dylan. If she were to ever lose him. “Please, Holland. I'm leaving this. I'm leaving the gang. I don't want to be forced away from Dylan.”

“Leaving? Y/N, you can't do this. You can't just leave us. Me. We're your friends. It'll ruin everything.” Holland continued going on about the whole situation. Y/N tried to say something that would change her mind, but Holland wasn't listening.

“I love him!” Y/N yelled, trying to catch Holland’s attention. Holland’s hazel eyes widened in disbelief. Y/N spoke softly. “I love him. And he loves me. I've fallen in love with my rival and I never would've thought that this would happen, but it did. I'm not ready to say goodbye to what he and I have.”

Holland pulled Y/N into a hug. “I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm the worst friend ever.”

“No, you're not. You're just looking out for me.” Y/N smiled.

“If you love him, then be with him.” Holland said, pulling away. “Don't let anyone take away that love you have for each other. I'll keep your secret. I'm sad to see you leave, but if it makes you happy, then go for it.”

“Thank you, Holl. This means a lot.” Y/N smiled, teary eyed.

Someone knew of their relationship and that was a relief. Y/N didn't have to lie to the one other person she trusted most anymore. But Cody couldn't know. It would mean the end if he did. What a shame that he'd heard Y/N’s entire confession.

The week following was pretty uneventful. Holland had kept Y/N and Dylan’s relationship a secret just like she said she would and they were both incredibly thankful for that. Dylan had told Tyler, his best friend, about his relationship and he was surprised to hear how supportive he was. Tyler told Dylan that he deserved a girl that made him happy, that he deserved to be happy.

“Dylan, I've been thinking about something.” She told him, their laced fingers swinging as they walked in the park.

Dylan looked to Y/N. “What about, my love?”

“I want to tell more people about us.” At her words, Dylan stopped in his tracks. Y/N worried as she saw her boyfriend’s reaction. “Is that a bad thing? You know what, forget I mentioned it.” She muttered, pulling her hand from his, beginning to walk away.

Dylan shook his head and grabbed her hand, pulling her back over to him. “That's a great idea. Trust me, I want to tell everyone you're mine, but what about Cody and the rest of our gangs?” He panicked.

“I thought about that, too.” She smiled. “I'm going to leave the Omegas. I'm not going to be a part of the gang anymore.”

“A-are you sure? This is what you want?” He asked. He was totally for the idea, but she was leaving her friends. She was leaving Holland and he didn't want to be the cause of that.

Y/N nodded. “I'm sure. I've had my foot out the door for a while, it just took you to pull me out. I don't care about what anyone thinks. I just want to be with you.”

Dylan grinned and kissed her cheek. “Then I'll leave the Alphas.”

“But you're their leader.”

Shrugging, he smiled down at the girl in front of him. “I don't care. If you leave your gang than I leave mine. All I need is your love. Now and forever. Speaking of which,” He dug around in his pocket, feeling around for the item he's had since he told Y/N he loved her for the first time. He pulled out a small, silver ring. There was no diamond, it was just a plain silver band. “I want to give you this.”

“Is this about you courting me, cause we're kind of already together?” She giggled, looking at the ring.

“Originally it was supposed to just be a promise ring, I was going to give it to you last week, but I've been thinking. I'm in love with you, Y/N. I'm hopelessly devoted to you. I tell you all the time that you're the only girl for me. You're my girl.” He held the ring between thumb and index fingers. “Why have a promise ring when it can just be an engagement ring?”

“Dylan, what are you doing?” She asked, his words taking her breath away.

“I know it's a little soon and we're only eighteen, but I don't care. I love you more than I can even fathom. We don't have to get married right away, but I want to marry you someday. This is me asking you to marry me one day. Let me give you the rest my heart. Let me spend the rest of my life with you.” Dylan got down on his knee, looking up at the love of his life. She had happy tears in her bright eyes. “Will you marry me?” He whispered, his smile contagious.

Another moment of impact.

Y/N nodded quickly. Smiling as he stood up and slipped the ring on her finger. He held his hand in hers, kissing her knuckles. She grabbed his face and kissed him. “Dylan, I love you and I want to marry you now. Let's do it.” She held his face in her hands, her breath hitting his face after speaking so fast. She was high on her love for him.

“Can I ask you something crazy?” He asked.

“Well, you already asked me to marry you and I think that's as crazy as it can get.” She chuckled.

“Then I guess it's not crazy if I ask you to run away with me?” He smiled.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Run away with you?”

“Yeah. What do you say?” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, her hands still in his.

“I say… when do we leave?” She grinned.

“Tonight. I'll get some money I have saved and we can go wherever you want.”

“Are we really doing this?” Y/N asked excitedly.

Dylan nodded. “Only if it's what you want.”

“I want this. I want us. I want you.” She whispered. “Let's do it. Let's run away from all of this. Just you and me for the rest of our lives.”

“You and me for the rest of our lives?” Dylan hummed. “I like the sound of that.”

Y/N stood on her tippy toes, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “I'll meet you back here in two hours.”

“I love you so much.”

“And I love you.”

The two got in their own cars, driving to their homes. They packed clothes, things they held dear to their heart, and both grabbed some money. In total they would have four thousand dollars. The money would come from birthdays, Christmas, and spare money from past jobs. It wouldn't last the rest of their lives, but it was enough for the time being. Y/N had left a letter with Holland that would go to her parents and Dylan left his on the counter of the kitchen in his home. Taking one last look at his empty bedroom, he smiled. He knew that this was the right thing.

“Y/N, are you really leaving?” Holland asked as she held the envelope in her hands. They were at the diner and Y/N decided to grab her and Dylan dinner before they hit the road.

“I am, Holl.” She told her, a sad smile on her face. Holland and Y/N held each other in a hug.

“I'm going to miss you so much.” Holland sniffled.

“I'll miss you, too.” Y/N cried. “But this isn't goodbye. It's a ‘see you soon’. When Dyl and I have settled down, you can come see us and I'll make sure to see you.”

Holland nodded and pulled away from the hug, holding her best friend’s hands. “I better be the maid of honor at this wedding.”

“Well, duh. Who's going to do my hair and makeup?” Y/N rolled her eyes playfully.

Holland giggled as Y/N smiled at her. “I'll see you soon, okay?”

“See ya later, Holl.” Y/N grabbed the bag of food off the counter and walked out of the diner and to her car. She sat in her seat, starting the car with a smile. She drove out of the parking lot and to the park to wait for Dylan, completely oblivious to Cody in the car behind her.

Dylan was at the park, Tyler having drove him. He was going to leave his car with Tyler to fix and then him and Daniel would drive it out to wherever Dylan and Y/N would be. “You know I'm going to miss ya, Posey.” Dylan said as Tyler parked the car by the curb.

“I'm going to miss ya, too.” Tyler clapped his hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “I'll see you soon. Now go get your girl. You have your whole life ahead of ya.” Posey told him with a genuine smile.

“See ya, Ty.” Dylan got out of the car, patted the hood, and waved goodbye. Tyler waved and drove off. Dylan looked at his watch seeing that she should be here in five minutes. He had his bags on his shoulder as he walked over to the tree in the middle of the park.

It didn't take long to see Y/N’s car come into view. Smiling he walked over to her and set his bags on the ground. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her sweetly on the lips. His fingers tangled in her hair, his other hand lifting her chin. She smiled as he groaned when her fingernails scratched at his scalp. She pulled her lips off of his and kissed down his neck.

“As much as I'd love to do this, we can't do it here.” He sighed and pushed her off of him slightly. “I promise we can definitely do some more of that later, but let's get on the road first.”

Y/N pouted. “You're no fun.” Dylan shook his head with a smile on his face and picked up his bags, putting them in the trunk of the car. “Come on, fiancé, let's run away!” She grinned.

Dylan pulled her into his side as they looked around. The park as pretty empty for the most part. No one in sight. It was perfect, but it only took one sound for that to all fade away.

A gunshot rang out causing the lovers to flinch. They turned around, scared of what they'd see. Cody was standing twenty feet away from them, a gun in his hand, the tip pointed at the sky as smoke came from the hole.

“Cody, what are you doing?” Dylan asked, stepping in front of Y/N.

Cody shrugged, an evil smirk on his face. “Well, I heard of the engagement and figured I should give you a surprise.”

“We don't want anything from you.” Y/N told him, scared of what he could do. Especially holding a loaded weapon.

“Listen here, you bitch. You were supposed to be mine. You were supposed to be with me. Not this scumbag from the other side of the tracks. Me.” Cody snarled.

Dylan felt his pulse raise as he spoke to Y/N, his protective side coming out. “Don't talk to her like that, you dick!”

“Why? What are you going to do?”

Before he knew it, Dylan’s fist collided with Cody's jaw. He stumbled back, dropping the gun. Cody pushed back, Dylan falling into Y/N. He panicked when he heard her wince at the impact. “Are you okay, baby?” Y/N nodded.

“I'm fine, love. Are you?” She looked over him, making sure there were no marks. Dylan looked back at Cody to see him fuming. Cody grabbed the gun off the ground, walking towards the two.

“Cody, please. Don't do this.” Y/N begged. Tears in her eyes as she stepped in front of Dylan. “You can't do this. I'll leave him. Just don't hurt him.”

Dylan’s whiskey eyes filled with tears. “Y/N, no.”

She turned to look at him, the tears that were once in her eyes falling down her cheeks. Her eyes were swollen and she sniffles, the tip of her nose red. “I have to, Dyl. We were stupid to think we could get away from this.”

“Don't you love me?” He cried.

“Of course I do, you know that, but this is the only way I can keep you safe. If something were to happen to you because I'm selfish, I wouldn't forgive myself. I love you.” She placed a teary kiss on his cheek and took her hand out of his. She walked over to Cody, not having the heart to look back at the broken man behind her.

“I'm all yours.” She muttered. Her heart broke at her words.

“No, you're not.” He shook his head. “You'll never be mine. Not entirely.” Cody raised the gun in Dylan's direction, finger on the trigger, ready to pull. Y/N watched with wide eyes as he was about shoot the gun. Dylan closed his eyes, ready for what was coming at him. The gun went off, the shot ringing through their ears. Dylan’s eyes fluttered open, but he was uninjured. His gaze landed on Y/N, just in time to see the blood seep through her shirt and Cody's eyes widened.

Everything seemed to be in slow motion. Cody dropping the gun and taking off without a word, his car speeding down the street. Y/N’s body dropped to the concrete, but Dylan caught her as she stumbled into his arms. Dylan sat on the ground, her body shaking. The warm, red liquid was soaking the cloth on her shirt. With fidgety hands, he put his hands over the wound on her stomach.

“No, no, no. Hey, hey you're going to be okay.” Dylan tried to distract her from the pain that was spreading through her body. Y/N’s chest was rising and falling as she tried to keep air in her lungs. Her hand set over his, their fingers lacing.

“Dylan, look at me.” She rasped out.

His eyes came from her stomach and up to her eyes. They still had the same brightness they had from when she'd seen him earlier. “You know I love you, right?” She asked.

“I know you do, baby. But don't say goodbye. You're going to be okay.” His voice broke.

“Don't forget how much you mean to me. You are my whole world. My everything. You're my soulmate, Dylan. Remember that.”

“Stop saying goodbye. This can't be it.” He sobbed, his tears running down his face and landing on her cheeks. It was hard to tell whose tears were whose, Y/N was crying and their tears combined.

“Do you remember what I said to you that one time we were laying in your yard after our day at the beach?” She ignored his question. Dylan nodded, a sad smile on his face.

“I told you that I wished we could buy stars and then I'd buy you one and always be with you. Dyl, when I go, I'll be in the stars, watching over you. Watching you live your life.” She smiled up at him, ignoring the throbbing pain in her stomach and in her heart.

Dylan let out a choked sob. “How am I supposed to live my life without you here? I’m not strong enough to live in a world that doesn't have you in it.”

Y/N cried watching his own heart break. She knew that he loved her with everything he had to offer and she knew she was breaking his heart. He couldn't watch her die. She hated herself for doing this to him because she also knew that he would always love her. That kind of love never dies. “I love you so much, Dylan. You turned my world upside down and you made me a better person.” She brought her hand up to his cheek, rubbing her thumb over his high cheekbones. “You made me me. And I'm eternally thankful for that.”

“I love you, Y/N. You are the love of my life. You're not just my girlfriend, as far as I'm concerned…” He grabbed her left hand and rubbed his finger over her ring. “You, Y/N Y/L/N, are my wife.”

“And you're my husband. You'll always be that to me.” She nodded. He adjusted her body so he could kiss her, one last time. His lips caught hers, the movement slow and in sync. The kiss would take the little bit of breath that she had left, but it didn't matter. She had to feel that spark, that electrifying feeling that made her skin tingle and her heart burn with passion. That was her dying wish. Before her eyes stayed shut and she fell into an eternal sleep, a single tear fell from the tear duct in the corner of her eye.

Then it all stopped.

The movement of her lips.

The rising and falling of her chest as she tried to breathe.

Her heart…

It all stopped.

Dylan pulled away and looked at her to see her completely still. “Y/N? Y/N, please? Please don't be gone. Don't go. This can't be it. I'm not ready to say goodbye.” He whispered against her lips. As the realization hit him, he sobbed. He held her to his chest and sobbed. Each sob hurting more than the last. His sobs echoing around him. He would never see her smile again. He would never hear the contagious laugh. He would never hear the camera flutter shut as she took a picture of him without him knowing.

And that…

That was the hardest moment of impact.

527 notes · View notes