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#the irony doesn't escape me
ladymelisande · 1 year
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Matt Smith: *exists*
Team Green actors: We want him.
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glitternightingale · 2 years
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Oooop Glitter isn't feeling well...
*makes you your favorite tea and soup
Which isssssss 👀
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Oh, Julieta! My favorite soup!! How did you know, Luna? 💙💙💙
*slurping this up to the very last drop*
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blorbocedes · 1 year
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nico rosberg: Thrilled about my new story with Men's Health Magazine! As someone who's passionate about human performance & mental well-being, it's been exciting to share my path from F1 to Entrepreneurship & Investing in Green Technologies. I shared personal experiences of how defeat can make all of us stronger. Hopefully, my story inspires others to embrace challenges and strive for excellence in all areas of life.
Nico for Men's Health Deutschland April 2023. okay blondie, serve! looking like a caramel frap...
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visualtaehyun · 4 months
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The Little Prince
Disclaimer: not a native speaker, still learning 🙏
Some followers or mutuals may know that I started reading the Thai version of The Little Prince and even though I haven't gotten that far into the book yet, I did skip ahead to find the two passages that came up in ep. 1 of Last Twilight. So naturally, I wanted to draw some comparisons with the dialogue in this lovely scene from ep. 8:
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บางอย่างเนี่ย /baang yaang niia/ เราไม่ตองใช้ตามอง /rao mai dtaawng chai dtaa maawng/ ก็มองเห็นมันได้ /gaaw maawng hen man dai/ = For some things we don't need to use our eyes to look yet [we] can see them anyway.
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ใช่ บางอย่างมันก็ต้องใช้หัวใจรับรู้ /chai. baang yaang man gaaw dtaawng chai hua jai rap ruu/ = Right. Some things need to be perceived by using the heart. เหมือนความรู้สึกพี่ตอนเนี้ย /meuuan kwaam ruu seuk phi dtaawn niia/ LOVE he means love!! all-encompassing, indescribable l o v e! I was almost expecting one of them to express it in words but what we got instead expressed it perfectly in actions
I'm not sure where Day is reciting from in ep. 1 (or if they had to change it for copyright reasons that I'm unaware of??) but it's very slightly different from the book so let's look at both!
เจ้าชายน้อย /jao chaai naawy/, ch. 21, p. 125, the Fox:
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[...] เราจะมองเห็นแจ่มชัดด้วยหัวใจเท่านั้น /rao ja maawng hen jaaem chat duuay hua jai thao nan/ สิ่งสำคัญนั้นไม่อาจเห็นได้ด้วยดวงตา /sing sam khan nan mai aat hen dai duuay duuang dtaa/ = We can see clearly only with the heart. What is essential cannot be seen with the eyes.
Day in ep. 1:
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เราจะมองเห็นทุกอย่างกระจ่างชัดเมื่อเราใช้หัวใจนำ /rao ja maawng hen took yaang gra jaang chat muea rao chai hua jai nam/ สิ่งสำคัญไม่อาจมองเห็นได้ด้วยตา /sing sam khan mai aat maawng hen dai duuay dtaa/ = We can see everything clearly when we use [our] hearts. What is essential cannot be seen with the eyes.
Sidenote: While trying to find out if Day was reciting from a different translation, I happened upon this article from 2020 which included this lovely photo of one of many Braille translations! :)
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Back to the editions at hand though!
My edition is from 2013 and translated by อำพรรณ โอตระกูล (Amphan Otrakul). Hers was the first Thai translation, originally published in 1969. There are uhh a lot of versions by now though.
Judging from what I can see of the cover in ep. 1, my assumption is that Day's version is a print of this 2003 one which says on the cover is still the Otrakul translation but this site credits as being translated by พงาพันธ์ุ โบบิเยร์ (Panga-Phan Bobier), originally in 1997. I know there are three well-known translations and I've checked the one by อริยา ไพฑูรย์ (Ariya Paitoon) (pdf version here) so I'm just gonna stick with the assumption that Day is quoting from the Bobier translation. 🤷‍♀️
And because I'm very highkey in love with this song-
ประตูวิเศษ (Better Days), written by Amp Achariya, specifically Jimmy's lines:
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/aat mai hen, dtaae rap ruu duuay jai/ = might not see but perceive with the heart /thee mai hen gaaw dai hen duuay jai/ = what isn't seen can be seen with the heart /kham waa rak man gaaw chat nai jai - praw ter/ = 'Love' is clear in [my] heart - because of you.
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nonuggetshere · 8 months
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Decided to redesign Lullaby a little bit
Now they have their granny's big wet cow eyes
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dagothcares · 2 months
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Unrelated to anything, but I do resent the inferiority complex that Dutch speakers have over their own language. Dutch is a passionate language with its tongue wedged firmly in its own cheek. A lot of stuff sounds dumb when you translate stuff from English to Dutch because a lot of stuff that is commonly said in English is dumb, but people can not see this as English is the cultural hegemon.
I see stuff like, people being embarassed to speak Dutch so they write in English, perform in English, sing in English at a Dutch speaking open mic event and their English isn't even good.
A friend of mine is writing fantasy fiction in English despite the fact he can express himself better in Dutch. Perpetual chip on my shoulder about this. To me Dutch sounds very sincere, it's the language my mother speaks and the language I speak with my closest friends. It's endlessly varied as people from 20 kilometers away speak it so differently that I have issues understanding them. It feels to me that native speakers have such disdain for it, because it's so direct and sincere that it makes them all too aware that what they say and write is stupid and they no longer have this veil of foreign language and culture to hide behind.
"Dutch is so silly, can you imagine saying 'Spank me, daddy!' in Dutch?" The fact that "Spank me, Daddy!" in itself is not a silly phrase to you speaks to me of detachment to the sounds that escape the fence that is your teeth.
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nevertheblood · 1 year
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that one chanlix bit i wrote in a fleeting sky about tiptoeing on the borders of grief, but it’s me and my friend reminiscing about the last skk cosplay we did together
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murdrdocs · 2 months
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doing this off anon because i’m simply unhinged but - ghostface!luke doing it to fuck with you when he’s mad…
like you beat the hermes cabin in capture the flag or sumn,, and the first time it happens you wait for him in the woods to meet up after everyone’s in their bunks. and you hear rustling behind you and suddenly there’s a knife to your throat and he messes with you for a while with the mask until you find out it’s him.
and then he gets addicted to the fear in your eyes and the crying he saw and so he keeps doing it 😩 somewhere out there is a picture where luke is pulling your hair with the camera flash on like the tiktok trend im SCREECHING please
cw dark content; ghostface!luke; suggestive content MDNI 18+
the energy of the vengeance coursing through his veins is so electric that it's a wonder you can't feel it.
luke figures it's because you're stuck in your ego. in your glory. it's practically radiating off of you, momentarily protecting you from what pumps through him, meddled with the blood and ichor to create something dangerous.
but he's not here to seriously hurt you. no matter how many times he has to remind himself. he just needs to put you in your place. to remind you that this win was singular, and another won't be following it. with you, there's no better way to do that than to strike fear deep into your core.
it takes a second for it to reach you.
when luke purposefully steps onto a branch, and you turn to face him, he's only met with brief shock. then, like the overcompensating brat that he knows you to be, you laugh in his face to hide your fear.
"what's with the getup?" you gesture to the mask and gloves, amusement in your eyes but luke can see the way the corners of your lips tug down just a bit.
he doesn't say anything, tilting his head and watching on as you ramble to yourself.
"here to scare me? how'd you know i was out here anyway. unless..." you take a step closer, squinting your eyes. "luke?" your smile turns bigger, more genuine.
"knew you were a little weirdo but i didn't suspect this. what, are we gonna do it in the getup? am i gonna be your helpless victim? are you gonna make me beg for my life?"
you get closer and closer to him as you speak. eventually, you reach a hand up and attempt to lift his mask, but he catches you.
"luke?" you ask. he shakes his head, and it's then that the fear starts to set in.
you don't have time to react before luke has you spun around, your hand locked behind your back and your chest pressed up against the rough bark of a tree.
you wince. "ow, luke. you're hurting me," you tell him, trying to wedge yourself out of his grip but this is always one position you couldn't figure out the escape for when you would spar with luke.
he has you at his mercy. and before he'll let you go, he has to play with you for a while.
when the cold and sharp metal of a knife presses against the pure skin of your cheek, you flinch away, only to be stopped by luke forcibly nudging his crotch into your backside to remind you that when he's here, you're not going anywhere.
he hears your sniffles, and he briefly wishes he could see the tears glide down your face. but there's something more perversely addictive about only being able to hear you and not see you. something that makes luke's cock twitch within the confines of his cargo pants.
you're starting to plead, telling him that there's someone coming out to meet you. that he's big and strong and the best swordsman around and he could end your assailant in less than a minute. luke wants to laugh at the irony, and eventually he can't hold it in.
he does. he laughs right in your ear as he lets the knife slip a little and he slices a thin line against your cheek, watching the blood gather from behind the eye slits in the mask before he finally decides to show you mercy.
"not so big and bad now, are we?"
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actual-changeling · 7 months
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An angel and a demon walk into a bar.
It sounds like the beginning of a joke, one that would have annoyed Crowley greatly before- before. Maybe it would have been mildly amusing, were it not for the fact that it is a pub, not a bar (a mere technicality that somehow still mattered), and it is the first time in seven months that he is looking Aziraphale right in the face.
He chose the place, walked right out of the bookshop and across the street the second Aziraphale looked at him with his stupid purple eyes and opened his mouth. Same table, same drinks. New silence.
A demon leads an angel into a pub so he does not kiss him again.
Less of a joke, more like the beginning of a nightmare he has had every single time he tried to sleep, woken by whispered words either confirming his worst fears or greatest desires; both incite fear, one way or another.
The low table between them is enough of a barrier to prevent a repeat of their last interaction, it has to be, although this time Aziraphale is looking at him with violet-coloured longing and an apology on his lips, no longer pleading, no longer angry. He is asking for forgiveness, and if that isn't a deeply ironic twist of fate.
Before either of them says a single word, Crowley finishes his drink and raises his hand to order another one, clinging to the familiar sting of alcohol in his throat to burn away the questions lingering on his tongue.
An angel followed a demon into a pub because he loves him.
Aziraphale wishes he could tell himself Crowley looks like he did seven months ago, that he hasn't changed, but he is done lying to himself, to either of them. Behind his shades, dark, darker if that is even possible, he can feel his golden gaze heavy on his face, familiar and the answer to an empty longing in his chest.
His drink goes untouched as Crowley downs one, then another, and it is after the third that he finally begins to talk.
"What do you want?"
Bitter, sharp, spit at his feet with an anger he expected and yet doesn't know how to react to. Underneath it is pain—more pain than any being should ever have to experience—and instead of trying to carry some of it for him, he only added to it.
"I want to apologise."
"Fine." Crowley shoves his empty glass away and gets up. "I don't forgive you."
Reflexively, Aziraphale reaches out and curls his fingers around his wrist when Crowley tries to walk past him, blinking up at him with eyes the colour of dying Myosotis.
Forget-me-nots.
They both freeze, the point of contact a crack in the walls they have spent centuries building and seven months rebuilding, and he knows he has made a mistake immediately.
Crowley stares at him, still as stone, until he suddenly rips his arm out of his grasp, almost cradling it against his chest. With dawning horror, Aziraphale realises he is shaking, tremors running through him like waves breaking apart on a rocky shore.
"Don't you dare touch me." Panic, not anger. Pure, unfiltered panic blooming beside a mountain of fear that could outlast an eternity.
"I-" He doesn't know what he wants to say, what he is trying to say, what he needs to say to make him stay. Oh, the irony of it all.
Crowley leaves the pub, and the Supreme Archangel stays behind.
Not a demon anymore, not technically, he is done with sides, and deeds, and choices; he never makes the right ones anyway. His wrist hurts with the ghost of a kiss, and he cannot get the glint of purple where summer sky blue should be out of his head. 
The Bentley is waiting for him, providing an escape from the noise, the people, him.
Apologies instead of I'm coming back.
A sickening aura of holiness tinged with the burn of ozone instead of books and dust and soft, silly angel.
Seven months of waiting, of pleading with God, of cursing Her, cursing him, cursing the entire fucking world for taking and taking and taking from him without pause, without even a fragment of mercy.
For this.
An angel returns to heaven. Crowley curses the stars and cries.
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rottiens · 18 days
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SHADE OF BLUE | GŌJŌ SATORU
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✮ WC. . 2.6k
✮ tags. . canon au, yan gōjō, fem reader, blood, fluff (?), the descriptions could imply that the reader is depressed (tho I don't think so), suggestive. 18+ mdni. divider creds: cafekitsune.
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Your vision is tinged with red, just like the sunset that paints the clouds above your head. However, this color is not as intense as the fresh blood that stains Satoru's hands, part of his arms and blue shirt. It seems that the violently inflicted wound caused some drops to reach his cheek, leaving a silhouette that would mimic the stroke of a wet brush. In the distance, as if planned, a bird squawked, causing your muscles to twitch as the cold breeze bites at your bare legs.
At first you fear for the blood being his but that doesn't make sense, you quickly cross out that idea.
"Wh-"
"May I come in?" his voice interrupts you, tired, raspy.
His white hair is wet like he's been running to get here or like he's been standing in the drizzle that started falling a few minutes ago.
"What happened?" Initially, the voice you hear is unfamiliar, echoing distorted in your eardrums.
"Please?" your fingers expose your unsure thoughts as you squeeze and cling to the doorknob. Satoru takes a fleeting glance at your chest made transparent by the pink fabric of the bathrobe hugging your figure, only to snap back into your eyes. "You're not afraid, are you?"
You take a deep breath of air; the rusty iron smell of blood stirs your insides. Finally, you exhale your doubts and push the door a little further to give him room and allow him to enter the cozy cabin, still with the thought hammering at the back of your neck that this is a mistake.
Satoru tilts his head down as he passes through the doorway, his long strides taking him straight into the heart of the cabin without pausing to look back. The cabin, which you rented to be close to the mountains and escape the horror your life had become a few weeks ago, has a rustic and cozy atmosphere, splashed with brown colors wherever you look.
The wooden floor creaks softly under Satoru's feet as they pause in front of the lit fireplace, while the dim light from the lamp overhead dances across his broad back and the walls.
Satoru turns to look at you. The tension from earlier when you opened the door seems to have disappeared from his face, his cheeks pale from the cold and his rose-tinted lips grateful that you have given him shelter.
"It's a cozy place." Satoru is playing with the silver ring on his finger as he holds your gaze. Your lungs empty, you should have known it wouldn't be so easy for him to explain what happened. With Satoru nothing is easy.
Your folded arms press closer to your chest, hiding your hard nipples from his all-seeing eyes.
"Thanks," is all you say in regards to his compliment because after all, why pretend this is a normal visit.
"That's funny. We could have both been here together."
A smile laden with irony stretches your lips. Your arms fall to either side of your body showing him your vulnerability. "It's funny indeed, considering it was you who broke up with me."
His laughter echoed with a sarcastic tone full of disdain, as if he was mocking the situation. "You know what…"
"Whose blood is it, Satoru?" You get right to the point and he grins now, combing back strands of hair that immediately take on the red color trapped in his fingers.
"I need a shower first." His long strides catch up to you as he slips past you, his eyes scanning you up and down undisguised before he turns his gaze back to the front. You call out his name turning on your heels only to catch up to see him disappear up the small steps that would take him toward the second floor and the bathroom. "Don't worry! I know where the bathroom is…after all, I was the one who sent you the pictures of the cabin, remember?"
You want to just sit there near the fireplace, feel its warmth on your hands, face. Sink your fingers into your forehead, massage your temples and finally wake up and realize that this is nothing but a dream… no! A nightmare. What was Satoru doing here? It was just one of dozens of questions bombarding your head, your temples beginning to throb with pain.
You command your feet to walk over the Persian carpet, its soft cells massaging your feet guiding you towards the steps previously trodden by your ex-lover. As you enter the hallway the rope that suddenly began to bind your temples like a rubber band tightens with more intensity, the floor is covered by the trail of his dirty clothes: shirt, pants, socks, boxers….
In front of the bathroom and thanks to the half-open door, you hear the water running. Your fingers push unwillingly the door relieving in front of you a completely naked man smelling the shampoo you had left on top of the sink, even without looking at you, Satoru could recognize your scent at least ten kilometers away so seeing him smiling when you stand still in the door frame is not a surprise for you.
"Satoru."
"I was missing hearing my name in your voice." His long eyelashes close as he utters these words, fluttering as he squeezes the bottle of shampoo to release the scent of coconut and vanilla. "Damn." Smells like you. His grip on the plastic bottle grows tighter before he finally sets it aside. He contemplates himself in the mirror for a moment before speaking again. "Come closer," he tells you, disguising his command as a request.
You don't know if it's because you don't feel like fighting that draws you toward him like a sailor to a siren's song, or if you really miss him and would be willing to do anything he asked of you to have his attention on you again. The only thing you recognize at this moment is his presence, which makes you feel overwhelmed and nervous, just like before when you were together.
Satoru turns to acknowledge your presence. "I asked you a question earlier." He stretches out his hand, and though your body tightens from the inside, you don't move a muscle. "Are you afraid of me, angel?" His fingers, which were hovering over your collarbone without yet touching you, descend along your sternum, brushing a nipple that hardens further by his presence as you try to pretend nothing affects you.
"No."
"Good." Satoru licks his lips. "Because I would never hurt you." As he continues to amuse himself with his fingers making circles you can't feel on your chest, your attention focuses on the details of his face; his pale skin and the red spot on his cheek that breaks the harmony of the color palette. "Now. Ask me."
You weren't prepared to hear what she had to say. Whatever his answer or justification, you could feel the weight of guilt of being complicit. Still, you dare to ask directly, "Whose blood is it?"
"I had to clean up," he replies with an exhausted sigh, then pulling his hand away from you and causing you to whimper almost like a wounded puppy. "The higher-ups," he finally adds, punching you in the lower stomach.
Immediately, something acidic pours into you, burning your insides, your esophagus, filling your mouth with saliva.
"Satoru?" you mumble barely audible, horror marking your frown and a brief pout warped by dismay. You needed him to tell you it was a joke. He took the hem of the blindfold and pulled it over his head like a bandana, only to let it rest beside you over the sink.
"Hm?" He's not looking at you, and you desperately look for him to continue the conversation.
"Did you kill them?" It's the question you don't want him to answer, even though deep down you already know the answer; you just need confirmation.
"Come with me."
Instead of answering your question, Satoru entwines his still-cold fingers with yours and guides you toward the shower that continues to spill water onto the tiles. You, on the other hand, don't move a muscle; your feet cling to the floor like roots as adrenaline floods through your bloodstream.
"Did you?" you insist.
"Just a few," he replies with the same relaxed expression.
"Just a few?! You can't…"
"Oh, but I did. I can, as a matter of fact. And I'll do it again if they dare speak to my future wife like that again."
In a matter of seconds, a lot happens. His fingers squeeze yours, proving to you that this was real; unlike the dreams and nightmares you've had about him over the past few days. His blue eyes finally stay locked on yours, burning your heated self with their icy presence as he tries to decipher what exactly is going on in your mind. You stumble over your own breath as you struggle to inhale deeply, rushing oxygen to your brain.
Something warm spills down your cheeks, descends into the depths of your belly and finally settles in your pelvis, riotous and intense, as subtle as the wings of a butterfly.
"I don't understand," is all you manage to say, your brain trying to process hundreds of stimuli at once. "Did you do it for me?" Guilt. Guilt.
You should feel guilty, your inner morale accuses you.
Once again, Satoru ignores you and pulls your hand to walk you towards the shower. This time you don't insist on standing still; your legs obediently respond by automatically moving toward the glass cubicle, giving his fingers permission to remove your clothing. Your tense body is grateful for the warmth of the water that immediately drenches you, for before he came to break what little stability you had managed to create, you were about to step into the shower.
For his part, he grabs the sponge and offers it to you, and it takes you a few seconds to accept it amidst the disheveled blinking that chases away the tears that threaten to spill. Then he drops a stream of the liquid soap and turns his back to you.
Moles and freckles hug it, from his broad, strong shoulders to the small of his back. Memories lash you; you remember tracing those moles when neither of you could sleep, you remember kissing them, you remember your fingernails creating red moons on it.
You carefully round his waist, your forehead rests right in the middle of his shoulder blades and the rain from the shower now falls directly on your head, making it a little difficult to breathe, but you stay there, tucked in your safe place. You remain silent like that for a while, feeling the warmth of the water wash away the dirt into the plumbing as everything he has said sorts itself out in your head like a jigsaw puzzle.
Last month, your life and everything you knew as stable came crashing down after a mission gone wrong. The bloodied faces of the civilians who died because of you haunt you every so often at night. This resulted in your demotion in rank as a sorceress and a six-month suspension. No missions. You couldn't set foot in the academy, which equaled no financial stability, not being able to help your parents pay for the house, much less pay for your own apartment.
You thought things couldn't get any worse until, a few days later, your boyfriend of two years broke up with you, leaving you adrift in a sea of unpleasant emotions that you couldn't control. So having Satoru here in front of you after days of not going out to see sunlight and having no contact with other human beings, feeling his presence under your body is overwhelming, almost unreal. You allow yourself to sob quietly, being cradled and coddled in his arms as he turns you to press your body much closer to his.
He cooing to you, murmuring sweet words that only he can say and that you long to hear.
"I'm sorry I left you when you needed me most. I had to pretend that the disappearance of a couple of higher-ups wasn't related to you. I would never put you in danger," he says once you've finished your shower and the jet of water has stopped.
Satoru holds your cheeks, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing to him. Inevitably, more tears spill down your cheeks and he hurries to wipe them away with his thumbs.
"Sh. I'm here now," he murmurs, keeping his gaze fixed on you, on your lips. "Can I kiss you?"
Your throat is still in a lump, but you nod slowly giving him the permission he needs and Satoru doesn't wait to place his mouth on yours taking you into a trance where you feel only his soft lips molding yours, purring as he pushes his mouth against yours. You feel him exploring every space, roaming every nook and cranny as the kiss intensifies accompanied by a soft chant of moans that grow louder each time.
Your ribs are pressed into his palms, his fingers defining the contours as he slowly pushes you against the wet wall.
"I missed you," he admits between kisses, finally pulling away to rest on the line of your neck and leaving a mark with his teeth.
. . .
Silently, Satoru guides you into the room, holding your hand the whole time. He helps himself by the dim light of the night lamp to move naked around the room. Seeing him act the way he used to, when everything was fine, fills your chest with nostalgia.
After a moment, he gets an extra towel from your suitcase along with essential oils that you always carry with you and with a kiss on the forehead followed by a brief giggle, he asks you to sit on the floor next to the bed to help you dry your hair. It's the first time in a long time that you don't have to worry about feeling guilty or sad, because all you can feel is him, his fingers, the way he interrupts his massages on your skull to kiss your face.
Satoru holds you against his chest all night. Your naked bodies melt as one under the silk sheets, he presses you against him as if he fears you will run away. His legs entwined like vines keep you safe.
In the middle of the night satoru turns his back on you releasing you from his prison and letting you be the one to protect him now, you circle his waist and hide your face in his silky clean hair, the strands tickle your face but you refuse to move away from the safety this moment brings you, the smell of your shampoo on him has never smelled so good.
"Satoru." You call out to him in a whisper so low you wonder if you've woken him. You don't want to interrupt his sleep and are surprised when he mumbles a Hm? Are you okay? "I didn't mean to wake you," you reply.
"I wasn't sleeping." This time he turns his body to look at you, holding his face with one hand while the other is on your waist, keeping you still. From the tired look and the slight dark circles under his eyes that begin to form, you wonder when was the last time he had a good night's sleep. "What's wrong?"
What you're about to say to him makes you embarrassed for some reason.
"You mentioned you wouldn't let anyone talk to your wife like that…" you blurt out the sentence, letting it float into the room unfinished. Hearing your words immediately makes him smile and you feel his fingers tighten on your skin.
"Yeah. I said that," he states proudly.
"You were serious?"
"There's nothing that would make me happier. So yes, you will one day be my wife when you're ready."
You are driven by emotion to throw yourself on top of him, pressing your body to his and melting into an embrace that neither of you wants to break first.
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notes. yeah, he kills people but he's my little meow meow and have you considered that he's a good husband too? yeah that's what I thought.
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toxicanonymity · 1 year
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Cargo. Silence can never be bought, only rented (pt. 4)
3.1k / dbf!Joel x f!Reader 18+ / pt 1 / master list
His arms loosen and you turn around to face him.  Bedhead is unreasonably sexy on him.   You try to kiss him and he dodges you again, going for your neck instead. . . He starts giving you a light hickey.  "You're evil," you say, pulling away to look at him.  He smiles wickedly, then it fades.  | next: part 5
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Thank you @dark-scape for the mood board (and sounding board).
CONTENT WARNINGS/NOTES: NSFW 18+ Noncon somnophilia just the tip (don't get too excited) dry humping, vaginal fingering, oral (M receiving), alcohol, reader wears his shirt, excessive dialogue, elvis reference, sex work references, NO HOG BBQ YET SORRY- It took on a life of its own, needed its own part (next Sunday) and I think you'll see why the pacing is better that way.
Tags - This story: @jbcalway @daddy-din @angelmenace @silkiers @axshadows @legs0pen4dilfs @fan-fiction-floozy @grnherbs @icuminurbutt @lokanda @not-a-unique-snowflakewflake89 @likeanimagepassingby2 @witchy-jadda @mxtokko @missannwinchester @cannolighost @anxiousankylosaurus @montenegroisr @97cityy @lillyrob @billyloomiswhore4 @cloudroomblog @boysddontcry @blackvelveteen1339 @twsssmlmaa @call-me-doll-face All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea. @evyiione Lmk if i missed you. Idk why some are buggy.
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The hotel shampoo and body wash smell like Joel after his shower, which makes you want to take the bottles with you.  After your bath, you lounge on your bed in a towel, air-drying, finishing the movie, and replaying the night in your mind.  Mainly how hot Joel looked between your legs.  You also dwell on the fact that he wouldn’t really kiss you.  Apparently, he won't sleep in the same bed with you either.  It hurts.  Like, it's physically painful.  
You go across the suite to Joel's room for a shirt to sleep in.  His door is cracked open and there's a green flannel folded on top of his luggage.  It’s not weather-appropriate and you wonder if he brought it for you.   He's tucked in, already asleep on his stomach with his shirt off, a massive arm sticking out over the white comforter and another under his pillow.   You drop your towel to put the shirt on – leisurely, hoping he wakes up to the tempting sight – but he's already sleeping soundly.   You've never seen his face so relaxed, but his brow is still somewhat furrowed.  
You sit down on his bed to fasten a couple of buttons.  He doesn't  wake up.  The irony doesn't escape you that you're watching him sleep when he's supposed to be the creep.  Why doesn't he try to fuck you, you wonder.  His words to Chad echo in your mind: If she told her father, you wouldn't be breathing.  But that's obviously different, you think. That was about someone breaking your heart and physically intimidating you.   
-
The hotel bed is tightly made, with the comforter tucked under the mattress on the side Joel isn't using.  You wonder if you could slip inside without waking him up.  You move the pillows out of the way, then slowly, inch by inch, wedge yourself under the sheets. When you're almost settled, he stirs.  He blinks a few times, squints at you, then sighs, "Trouble . . ."  He moves one of his pillows and hugs it, effectively putting something between you.  It stings.  You try to sleep but you end up sniffling.  
He hears you and wakes up again.  "C'mere, damnit," he half-whispers, half-asleep.  His gruff bedroom whisper makes you wet.  He lifts up his arm but doesn't turn on his side or move the pillow.  You rotate the pillow slightly and rest your head on it with his arm over your chest.  You drift off sooner than you expect.  
-
At some point in your sleep, you roll over facing away from him.  You wake up in the fetal position with Joel’s arm draped over you.  Joel has turned onto his side, too.  Your upper back is just barely against his chest.  You scoot your lower body backwards to spoon with him, and your naked ass meets the tip of his cock.  Arousal shoots through you like a bolt of lightning.  It's the first time you've actually had contact with it.  You didn't even realize he was naked. 
At the first contact, his hips instinctively press his cock up against you, sending all the blood in your body to your core.  You stifle a moan, not stopping to wonder why you don't want to wake him up.  You carefully maneuver your ass to nestle his cock between your thighs.  He thrusts in his sleep, gliding firm and wet against your folds, reaching your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. 
You unbutton your shirt then nudge his hand into it. His hand twitches and so does his cock. It pulls back a little and the tip is right at your entrance. Your hips tilt, nestling it there, the top curve of the head resting just inside without truly breaching you.  You could sink onto him right now.  It would be so easy.  But you want him to do it himself.  
You're absolutely throbbing, aching for him.  He pulls back again with a sigh, then his hard tip bypasses your tight, dripping hole and glides to your clit again and you softly moan.  You adjust your chest, wanting the movement of your breast to prompt his hand to cup around it.  But instead of cupping your breast, his hand drifts up your chest.  Then, it wraps loosely around your throat.
His voice is quiet but stern as his cock retreats then slides firmly against your clit with an aggressive thrust.  His hand applies light pressure around your throat.  “What’d I tell ya last night?”  
You remember it well, how you foolishly claimed you weren't gonna fuck him and he replied, oh, I'm not gonna let ya, sugar.  Blood drains from your face and your heart races. You scoff but don't say anything.  Having made his point, his hand goes slack again.  Humiliation drowns out your arousal and you begin to scoot away, but he follows you, effortlessly restraining you with one enormous arm.  
“Calm down," he says into your hair, then half-whispers under your ear, "I’m still gonna take care of ya,” as he palms your breast.  His hard cock nestles against your crack. 
"Lucky me," you say sarcastically and begin to squirm away, but both his arms wrap around you.  In a mocking tone, you parrot, "Take care of me," and add, "you're an actual whore, aren't you?"  A veiny hand slowly works your breast then trails down your torso and digs between your legs.  That’s all it takes for your arousal to return.  
He gathers your ample wetness and uses his middle and ring fingers in a way he must have been perfecting since before you were born.   You gasp and your back arches with tension building rapidly in your core.  His bicep flexes under your neck as his other hand slowly gropes your breasts.  His stiff cock slowly ruts against your ass while he touches you like you've never been touched before.  
He grunts and you gasp on the edge of your climax.  He softly bites your neck, and it sends you.  He sucks your neck as you come.   When your body finishes convulsing into his, his arms loosen and you turn around to face him. 
-
Bedhead is unreasonably sexy on him.   You can't resist. You try to kiss him.  
He fucking dodges you again, going for your neck instead.   "Haven't you seen Pretty woman?" Yeah, the one where a sex worker won’t kiss johns on the mouth because it’s too emotional . . .Joel starts giving you a light hickey.  
"You're evil," you say, pulling away to look at him.  
He smiles wickedly, then it fades.  He opens his mouth to say something but stops short when you reach down and grab his cock.  Your mouth falls open at its hardness and the fact that his hand is already around it. 
He winces at your icy fingers. 
You get up on your knees and straddle his legs, pushing the plush luxury comforter behind you.  You fold at the hips and take a moment to admire his cock in your fist and breathe in his musk.  Your thumb lightly traces a vein, and he exhales with a soft grunt.  You look up and are greeted with a twinkle in his eye and a barely perceptible smirk.  You want to wipe that smirk off his face.  
You quickly succeed by holding eye contact while you wrap your lips around his swollen tip and tongue the slit.  It’s already salty with pre-cum.  He takes a deep breath and his lips part just barely.   He puts another pillow behind his head for a better view. His face falls into a trance.  When you begin to suck, he swallows and his jaw clenches.    His eyes darken. You bob your head on his cock, taking as much of his shaft as you can without gagging, stroking the rest with your hand. 
“Fuck,” he pants.  His quads tense under you and his breathing changes. His hips rock gently into your mouth.  Your eyes water as you keep blowing him.  Then, his hand joins yours.  
“Where ya want it?” he asks somewhat urgently.  What a gentleman. 
You don’t answer, you simply take his hand off his cock and place it on his stomach.  You slow your sucking and relax your tongue.  His hips thrust gently into your mouth and his  hand floats to your head, but you send it back to his stomach again  
“God almighty,” he groans.  “Fuck me.”  It’s a turn-on seeing him so desperate.  
You edge him until you’re ready to see him come. Then, you suck with your whole mouth, your cheeks caving in as you firmly tongue the underside.  Within seconds, his hips lift and stay lifted as he erupts in your mouth with a groan.  His warm load hits the roof of your mouth first, and it’s so many ropes you lose count.  You swallow, then return to the head of the bed. 
-
You put your head on his chest and he strokes your shoulder.  
“You’re the evil one,” he says, and you bask in self-satisfaction for a minute.  “Nah, you’re right.  You don’t wanna believe it, but you’re right.” 
“About what?” 
He sits up and your eyes glue to his inner bicep flexing as he reaches for his phone.  His brow furrows as he reads something then dismisses it.  Then he puts on the song Trouble by Elvis.  He meant you’re right that he’s evil.  
You hold out your arm and say, “I’m cringing so hard I have goosebumps.”  
“Just for that, I’m gonna play DJ allll mornin’,” he says.  He sings along as he walks to the shower, “well I’m evil, so don’t you mess around with me. . .” 
. . .
Before Joel takes you back to your apartment, you have brunch at a restaurant overlooking the riverwalk.  In the absence of other options, you wear your leather pants with the lacy top.  You both get bloody marys. He wears his Ray-Bans and a white t-shirt, jeans as tight as always, and sits back lazily with one elbow over the back of his chair and his knees spread wide.  
Your phone dings with a text from another family friend, Frank, asking if you’re coming home for the Independence Day barbecue, and it gets you thinking.
“Dad’s back this week,” you say to Joel.  You instantly regret it for killing the mood, but it’s the elephant in the room.  “Y’all still gonna barbecue?” 
He takes a sip of his drink, then puts it back down.  He looks at the river and furrows his brow, then his eyes return to you.  “Why wouldn’t we?  You gonna talk to him?”
“I dunno,” you say, not wanting to show your hand, but you’re leaning against snitching any time soon.  
Joel tenses and his nose twitches. “What are you gonna tell’m?”  He rubs one side of his beard.  A waiter approaches from behind, but Joel doesn’t see him.  “Gonna tell’m you climbed into my bed?  Tried to fuck yourself on my cock?"  There’s a bite to his words.  The waiter stops in his tracks and awkwardly tries to pretend he wasn’t coming to your table.  You look at the waiter and shrug and he gulps before nodding at you in acknowledgement.  Joel looks over his shoulder then shakes his head at you and smirks as the waiter walks away. 
Climbed into his bed. . . tried to fuck yourself on his cock. . . It sounds so bad when he puts it that way.  Maybe it was.  Your cheeks burn.
You sigh.  "I wasn't -” 
Joel raises his eyebrows at you. 
“Just the tip," you protest. 
Joel nods thoughtfully. 
“I dunno what I was thinking,” you admit.  You cross your arms and slouch down in your seat. 
"It's never just the tip,"  Joel says. 
"Why didn't you want it?" You ask pathetically 
He sighs.  "Nothin' to do with want.”  He takes a deep breath and leans back.  He looks at the river, exhales, then adds, "Trust me. . .Fuck."  He takes a sip of his bloody mary and looks back at you. 
"What then?”
The way he looks like he’s racking his brain, you wonder if he’s holding back just to drive you crazy.  It certainly has your attention. In fact, you didn’t know how badly you needed to fuck him until last night . . .just minutes after he said he wasn’t going to let you. 
Finally, he says, "It's bad for you, sugar."
“What is? Your evil cock?”
He smirks then shifts uncomfortably in his seat and looks at the river again.  “I dunno what to tell ya. I've seen a lot.  Don't wanna put ya through it.  Shoot, look at your stepmom, she's damn near lost her mind.”
“You're just that good,” you roll your eyes.  You have every reason to believe he is. 
Joel sighs.  “Nothin' to do with good. Shit, I’m not good, I'm just grown."  He takes a sip of his bloody mary.  "Don't you know any hot professors? Take 'em for a spin, you'll see."
You brush it off as his crude way of being modest.  He could probably make bank as an actual gigolo from what you’ve seen. 
"Then what is it?" you wonder.  He gives it some thought.  
"Reckon it’s ‘cause ya can't have me.  No one can. I'm un-have-able."  
“Why don’t you ever settle down?” 
“Shoot, I dunno.  When I was your age, I was already a father.  Maybe I went backwards.”
You nod, appreciative of his effort to give a real answer. 
He continues, “But ya know, monogamy just ain’t right for some people.  Hell, even in a marriage.  You’d be surprised how many are open.” 
“How many what? Marriages?” You suspect his sample is skewed. 
“Yeah. Relationships, marriages.”  He crosses his legs.  “Alright, my turn to ask you somethin’.”
Your heart rate spikes, hoping he won’t revisit the just-the-tip incident.  
“Why'd you stand there and watch that night, hmm?" He cocks an eyebrow.  It’s the first time either of you bring up the moment that started all of this.  Sometimes, when you’re with him, you forget about it entirely. 
You laugh at his audacity, then counter with, "Why'd you stand there and finish?"
"Easy. So I could nut.”  He flashes his eyebrows with a casual smirk, then downs the rest of his drink. 
"You did not just say nut.  God, you're such a boomer."
"Alright, let's get outta here ‘fore we traumatize another waiter."  He throws more than enough cash on the table then stands up and pulls up his jeans.  He puts his hands on his hips and cocks a leg out, looking out over the river while you chug the rest of your drink.
-
When you get in the truck, Joel puts his phone on bluetooth and “Call Me,” the theme to American Gigolo, blasts on.  He’s so lame.  You shake your head at him and he has that subtle Dad joke smirk.  His bicep stretches that t-shirt so nicely. 
Halfway to your apartment, some kind of restricted call pops up and his phone automatically answers it.  You swear it’s your father’s voice on the line that says, “You’re offline.  What’s your 20?”  Joel’s face changes entirely, and something tightens in your chest.  
He scrambles to turn off bluetooth and puts the phone to his ear.  You can still somewhat hear the other end of the line.  
Joel glances at you and says, “Uhhh-”
“We’ve gotta move,” your dad says. 
“It’s broad daylight,” Joel counters. 
“The Bureau tracked down his number two and he’s on the move.” 
Joel seems frustrated.  “Why don’t you get Jesse?”
Your dad says, “He’s comin’ but they’re rollin’ deep.  We need our best shot or it’s gonna be a shitshow.”  Your heart is a mile a minute.
“Dad?” you ask meekly, too nervous to fully commit to asking.
“What was that?” your Dad asks. “Who was that?” You don't say anything else. You feel weak.
Joel glances at you regretfully.  “Damnit, gimme ten and I’ll call you.”
“We gotta move, Miller. I need you back online.”
Joel sighs  “Working on it.  I’ve got cargo, k?” 
There’s a pause on the other end of the line.  "What kind of cargo?”
Joel looks at you again and answers, "precious.”  He hangs up.
Joel hits the steering wheel angrily.  He speeds back toward your apartment, clenching his jaw as his driving intensifies.   You’re shaking.  That was almost certainly your father, and it didn’t sound anything like a military training exercise, or a construction project of Joel’s, for that matter.  
Joel silently fumes.  
“Was that my dad?” you ask with watery eyes.   He takes a deep breath and puffs his cheeks out as he exhales.  Before he can answer, you foolishly let him off the hook with another question.  “Did you just call me cargo?"
“Sorry sugar, no time right now.”  You ride in silence, bracing yourself as he careens around a corner. 
The tears in your eyes threaten to overflow, then one does.  
-
Joel pulls up to your apartment.  He waits with one hand still on the steering wheel for you to get out, but when he looks at you, he sees that big fat tear run down your cheek and his face softens. 
“Aw, shoot,” he says, and unbuckles. “I’m an asshole.”  He gets out and jogs over to the passenger side.  He opens the door for you and you slide out of the chair lazily, numbly, not quite wanting to meet his eyes.  
“Hey,” he says, and tilts your chin up.  Suddenly, it seems like he’s in no hurry at all.  He takes off his Ray-Bans and looks at you like he’s trying to heal you with his eyes.  You finally make eye contact and take a shaky breath, trying not to full-on sob.  His thumb brushes away your tears, then the same hand cradles the back of your head.   You stand there reading each other’s eyes.  Slowly, your head begins to pull like a magnet toward his lips.  You almost feel like his hand is ever so subtly pulling you that way.  You steel yourself for rejection anyway.  But then, Joel’s head drifts toward yours.   
His beard lightly prickles your skin as your lips lock and his free arm wraps around you.  You’re caught off guard, but in less than a second, you don’t care about anything else in the world.  Joel’s tongue parts your lips and you accept it hungrily.  His lips are soft but strong as they suck you into him.  Your mouths are needy for each other.  His hand behind your head pulls you further into him.  You kiss like you’re sharing a last breath of air.  Then, he seals the moment on your upper lip and pulls away.  The whole kiss can’t be more than ten seconds, tops. 
“Gotta go, Trouble.” he whispers, then swallows solemnly, looking down.   “I’m sorry.”  
He jumps in his truck and peels off.  
-
next: part 5
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thank you all so much for reading and engaging. y'all are the best ILY!!!
1K notes · View notes
verysium · 5 months
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blu lock top artists on Spotify??? i need your thoughts on it
anon you had me pulling up my spotify playlists and browsing through the entirety of genius.com for three hours straight. i'm going to tweak this prompt a little bit and include specific songs that best represent them since it's easier for me to explain that way.
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RIN
the fanon answer for this is chase atlantic. while their songs do encapsulate parts of his personality (mostly the edgy teenager and disillusioned youth persona), i feel like this choice does not do his full character justice.
the canon answer for this is king gnu, more specifically the song "prayer x." i can picture this since rin seems like the type to enjoy alternative rock/indie, but the fact that it's the ending theme to banana fish is what gets to me. like...do you see yourself in ash or something? i hope you don't cus it doesn't end well. that anime had me bawling my eyes out for months, and i still can't think about it without breaking down again.
furthermore, the lyrics and music video to this song are very cryptic and borderline nihilistic. for example, "hiding behind this nonchalant smile" and "my life's spark will wink out of existence." i feel like this speaks volumes about rin's mental health and internal thought process. he obviously does not process his emotions normally and instead represses them. he also struggles with the idea of finding a purpose in what is otherwise a cyclical routine with no end. he's worried and, quite frankly, afraid that if he ever stops pursuing his dream, everything will come crumbling down, and he will have to face all the demons he's avoided for so long. the main theme here is that he cannot face his reality (the fact that sae's dream is not his own.) so he does everything in order to escape this fact even if it ultimately destroys him.
from my own playlists, i'd assign him the following songs/artists:
"beautiful boy" by john lennon
this is a love letter to baby rin. i feel like he would've enjoyed this song as either a lullaby or something he listened to on car rides to the beach during summer vacations. he probably still listens to this when it's raining outside or he's had a bad day. reminds him of his childhood and the good parts of it.
"the love club" by lorde
this is something pre-teen rin listened to. the irony is spot-on, and i feel like the lyrics would be relevant during a time when he was going through his rebellious phase and fully fleshing out his place in society. in this instance, the club would metaphorically be wherever his brother is at, whether that's the guys sae meets in spain or the group of football players considered "top-notch" in japan. everything is about finding a place in this club/clique in an effort to become free and differentiate himself from others. the only problem is that rin ironically loses his freedom because he tries so hard to be among the best. he signs his life away in pursuit of a dream, and it's something that now defines him.
"the only problem i got with the club / is how you're severed from the people / who watched you grow up"
this lyric in particular could apply to either one of the itoshi brothers. it's one of the caveats that comes with fame. you gain everything, but you lose everything before that. both of the itoshis likely experienced some amount of separation from their loved ones, including each other. also lorde's vocals are beautiful as always, so there's no reason not to include this song.
"howlin' 404" by DEAN
the production for this song is on point. the intro has a segment from a 1930s american horror radio program which is fitting because rin canonically watches horror movies. i think this song is something rin might listen to during cold autumns or midnights when he just can't sleep.
lyrically, there is the motif of a time loop which is also present in "prayer x." rin's character itself just has this connection with the raw grittiness of existentialism and this idea of repeating days without purpose. (in fact, he would make a great psychological thriller lead.) rin is also a control freak. if he lets one loose end go, it will unravel the entire thing. that matches up with the idea of "killing me softly." rin would rather prolong his pain than have it ripped from him all at once and leave him with nothing. i find this in a lot of people in real life too. even if your trauma wasn't good for you, it sometimes becomes the only thing you truly own. it's like that one quote from bojack horseman. "if i don't, that means that all the damage i got isn't good damage, it's just damage." rin feels like he has something to prove, and if he fails, all his suffering would've been for nothing.
"moonchild" by RM
i may be a bit biased since i love the mono mixtape, and i've written a rin fic about celestial bodies, but....this song just fits him. there's also a remarkable similarity with the lyrics of the previous songs i've listed. i'm just going to list a few:
"smiling in endless pain / you know / there's no freedom when you say freedom out loud"
one thing i love about RM is that he doesn't shy away from character flaws. he writes songs specifically for those who are always picked last, who aren't remarkable in any way, who feel weighed down by their normality. he gives them their spotlight and due diligence. for example, the entirety of the chorus is a repeat of "moonchild, you shine." i find this interesting since it's usually the sun that shines. but the sun is already sae, and rin is relegated to being the moon. yet even though the moon doesn't have its own light (it merely reflects the sun), it still shines bright in the darkness. rin doesn't know it yet, but he himself is a big role model for others such as isagi, his fans, and people just like him. so yeah....i'd take this song as a message of hope for future rin.
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SAE
the fanon answer is lana del rey, and i would agree to a certain extent. under the right circumstances, he could become one of those dreamy, emotionally stunted, and tired men you guys all lust over. if y/n ever wrote a romantic song about him, it would be either "west coast" (for the spanish influences) or "art deco" (for the vibes.)
the headcanon answer is nothing. i don't think he listens to music much. even if he did, it would be probably classical/instrumental or just white noise for his long flights. i imagine him listening to erik satie's "gymnopédie no. 3" on a train ride or something.
from my own playlists, i'm going to give him these songs/artists:
"remind me" by röyksopp
i don't know how to explain this, but this song gives a bittersweet sense of nostalgia. think early 2000s when the TV footage was still grainy and had retro graphics. you're carrying around your mini mp3 player whilst wandering through the airport and wondering how the hell you even ended up there. that's the general ambience of this song.
lyrically, the song also matches well with sae. i'm going to give you a few examples:
"it's only been a week / the rush of being home in rapid fading"
again, this is a tribute to the disconnection sae feels from his home. he goes everywhere, but he belongs nowhere. when he finally returns to japan, he finds himself missing spain. when he's in madrid, he thinks about the ocean back in kamakura. there never is a place that truly fills that gaping hole in his chest. i also feel like sae experiences FOMO on a whole other level. he constantly feels like something is wrong/missing and he's not doing enough.
"brave men tell the truth / the wise man's tools are analogies and puzzles"
the idea here is that though sae is blunt with his words, he is a coward with his intentions/true feelings. he can brutally call out someone without hesitation, but to actually reveal his own truths and motives? he'd rather shrivel up in a hole and die. this is especially applicable to love. to him, a wise man is someone who doesn't open his heart up easily. instead, he hints at his feelings, and whether or not you can figure that out is on you. sae hates it when others play games with him. it's where his hypocrisy lies. he demands straightforward honesty from others, but he himself will unintentionally play games with you if it means he can hide himself behind his walls.
"a woman holds her tongue / knowing silence will speak for her"
this is the closest you guys are ever going to get to sae itoshi's ideal type. he loves people who don't need to say something for him to believe it. they just get it. your silence is automatically enough for him to know that you love him. similarly, you don't even need to speak a word to understand what he's feeling.
"night shift" by lucy dacus
this song is sae if he was that one ex-boyfriend who really fucked you up emotionally, and you never got over him even though you said you did. now that i think about it, the story could be told from either POV. this could be sae trying to erase you from his mind, or it could also be you post-breakup.
"you've got a 9 to 5 / so i'll take the night shift / and i'll never see you again / if i can help it"
i know this one lyric caused controversy all over tiktok, so i'm going to add my own interpretation. at face value, this is exactly what it says it is. sae doesn't want to see you again, nor do you. he's willing to go out of his way just to avoid you, and truthfully he would. when sae finds himself in trouble, he doesn't look for something new to fix him. instead, he cuts everything off and subtracts anything that is deadweight. if you're out of his life, then you're out of his life. he's not coming back for you (or at least that's what he says to convince himself). same thing with rin. he knows he hurt rin, but he's not going to go back and try to make it right. he's going to move on and try to justify his actions every step of the way. one day, rin will move on too, and then sae would have been right all along. (unfortunately, that is not the way things work, but that's a lesson for another time.)
the alternative interpretation is that y/n is the other woman. this could be literal as in sae already has someone else in his life, and he only sees you at night. you're only ever going to be the night shift. it could also be metaphorical as in you're merely a distraction in the grand scheme of things. you're the mistress, but football is his wife if that makes sense. his career will always take precedence.
"you get me so high" by the neighborhood
this song is all the words sae wished he said to rin but never did. it made me cry because everything would have been so different if they had just set aside their pride and truthfully sought each other out.
"hope you don't regret it / i pushed a lot back but i can't forget it"
repressing feelings seems to be a recurring issue with the itoshi brothers. like....maybe if i just push it out of sight, it will also go out of mind. and at its core, this all stems from fear. fear of facing the consequences, the hypotheticals, the terrifying realization that you did something you regret and there really is no turning back from it. but realistically, if you think about it, a lot of this is the byproduct of overthinking. sometimes the situation isn't as complicated as we might make it out to be. sometimes an apology doesn't fix everything, but it's a proposition to be something more, an attempt at a solution. but sae and rin are so blindsided by their own internal turmoil that they cannot see this.
"for a long time i took it all for granted / i really thought we had it / but at the time it was more than i could manage"
ah....the "taking for granted" part. i could ramble on about that for hours. i think it really is some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy that we never miss something until it's gone. and in a way, it's not something that we can always control. the value you assign to a person/object when you have it is going to be fundamentally different from the value you assign to it when it's no longer in your grasp. that's how scarcity works. something with a limited supply is always going to be worth more. the vice versa works as well. you might yearn after something but then throw it away the moment you finally have it and grow tired of it. this sort of dilemma that comes with appreciation is so common i really wouldn't blame the itoshi brothers for what they did. it is immensely difficult to know when you're going to lose something or when you need to let it go. and sometimes it's hard to be constantly grateful for what you have because many of us are wired to want something more. tbh that's what makes the itoshis relatable.
"if we can leave it all behind us / and meet in between"
now sae would never say this unless he himself had actually reflected on what happened and fully processed it. but maybe in the future, they could set aside their differences and reach out to each other. (this is how i cope)
"but i just had to let you know / i never meant to hurt you, though / i had all my motives / i didn't know they wouldn't mix with your emotions / i just had to reach my goals / never knew i'd meet you though"
that's the thing with personal ambition. sometimes you get so caught up in yourself, you forget all about others. and this isn't really selfishness, or at least intentional selfishness. it just sort of happened that way. you never meant to hurt them, but you still somehow did.
"we should stick together / you're my best friend / i'll love you forever"
yeah....this line was the one that did it for me. something about the dysfunctional sibling dynamic just eats away at my insides. like....i could've loved you, we could've been so much together, but why aren't we? what we have isn't hate, but it isn't the love i know and crave either.
"we could be the greatest / it doesn't matter if we're never rich or famous"
ok but if rin ever heard this leave sae's lips, i think all of his trauma would just be magically healed. he just wants his brother to see him. like fully see him and love him. but alas, what is blue lock without angst, am i right?
"love in the dark" by adele
now i don't think sae would ever listen to adele, but the lyrics are just too fitting. i was going to write a fic on this, but it's going to have to ferment a bit in the drafts for now. basically this is the entire rin/sae traumatic scene but as a melodramatic torch song with adele's heavenly vocals.
"take your eyes off of me so i can leave / i'm far too ashamed to do it with you watching me"
um...this is literally sae's internal monologue??? i feel like letting go of things is something both the itoshi brothers struggle with. their lives are constantly pulling them in different directions, and eventually they become numb to it all. they don't form any strong attachment to anything besides football because that's the one thing that won't change for them. in a way, this is necessary for their character development (in the sense that they need to discern for themselves what to keep and what to let go), but it also destroys any sense of belonging they might have (hence why they feel lonely.)
"don't try to change my mind / i'm being cruel to be kind"
sae would definitely say this. like word for word. if only he wasn't a vague dumbass with no communication skills.
"i can't love you in the dark / it feels like we're oceans apart"
this is literally their dynamic in one lyric. there is the physical distance, and then there's the emotional distance.
"we're not the only ones, / i don't regret a thing / every word i've said, / you know i'll always mean"
this sort of reminds me when sae said that the world is huge, and there's so many players way better than him out there. i think spain really gave him a reality check, and he grew angry at rin when rin couldn't understand his disillusionment.
"everything changed me / and i don't think you can save me"
adele sort of echoes this softly at the end of the song. i feel like sae would do that too. he wouldn't admit his own insecurities until the very end, and only then does the truth come out.
"i'll sleep when i'm older" by bruno major
this is sae when he's older and fully mature, preferably after he meets you. he finally decides to damn it all and do what he wants.
"conversations with elders and the wisdom they bring ... / the view from an aeroplane at twelve thousand feet"
sae views things that previously annoyed him in a new light. he used to hate his elders, but he visited you and your mother once, and something changed within him. now he calls his parents more often, and his eyes linger on the old couples near the park benches. sometimes, his gaze softens just a bit when he imagines the two of you growing old just like them.
flights used to be a mundane part of his routine, but now he finds himself leaning over your window seat to see the mountains down below. the clouds and sunny weather set him aglow. and you just look so pretty when you fall asleep on his shoulder. he doesn't ever want this change.
"meet god on a mountain top along with the stars / find love somewhere, anywhere / fall deep from the start"
sae used to avoid love, but now he's running at it full-force. people tend to shy away from making sae a romantic because it seems too ooc. however, in the right situation, i think sae could entirely abandon his previous ideals and become someone else entirely. (that's why it's called a character evolution guys.)
"misplace my mind and follow my heart"
again, if you're able to make sae lose all rationality and let his heart guide him instead, then you've really done something. kudos to you for penetrating the walls of the coldest asshole known to mankind.
"i'll be a firework, not a flickering flame / treat life all around me like a one-player game"
this one lyric applies both to younger and older sae. younger sae is someone unafraid of risking it all if it means he can achieve something worthwhile. it doesn't matter how many players he has to defeat, how many people he has to leave behind. in this world, it is just him and the goal he has to accomplish.
however, after he's mellowed out after a few years (i'd say around middle age), he probably reinterprets this as something else. he's not going to constrain himself to his tunnel vision anymore. there's so much more to life than that.
"i'll go to the party and forget all the names / should it climb back to haunt me, / it ends all the same"
sae finally lets himself live the life he never thought he'd have. he does stupid things like get drunk and make a fool of himself. but you're there for him, so he doesn't really care. in fact, he can finally say that for the first time in a long time....he's having fun.
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KAISER
the fanon answer is the weeknd. i'm not going to lie, i completely agree with this one. i saw this one edit of him to "party monster," and i can say i have been fully enlightened and converted. however, this is not just about a toxic male manipulator anthem. it's much more than that.
this is about running away from the ugliest parts of yourself, becoming a slave to your vices, knowing you're broken somewhere and you can never fix it. i would say his character is most similar to "starboy" in the fact that he literally flaunts everything he has to hide the fact that deep down inside, he really has nothing else to hold onto. "starboy" is all about the status symbol (money, red lamborghinis, glass table girls turning into ebony table girls lol). but at the end of the day, he doesn't really have anything except an empty heart and a satirical quip for all those who made him famous. the same theme applies to "the morning" and "house of balloons."
in the romantic sense, i think "don't break my heart" would represent kaiser. and no, this is not a justification for him being an f-boy. it's more so an exploration of why people might think he is an f-boy. i do not condone his actions, but i do try to understand them. in particular, i feel like the lyrics of "sacrifice" also fit him well.
"i was born in a city / where the winter nights don't ever sleep / so this life's always with me / the ice inside my veins will never bleed"
i headcanon kaiser as being born in either berlin or munich. and if you don't know anything about those two places, just know that you freeze your ass off during wintertime. i think it's interesting how his past could be intrinsically tied with a place, and he takes a piece of his past self with him wherever he goes. the ice in veins part also made me think about how kaiser would rather freeze up every weakness within himself than let them run free and make him human.
"every time you try to fix me / i know you'll never find that missing piece"
guys...did you hear that? to all you delusional people out there, this is your service announcement. you cannot fix someone who does not want to be fixed. write that down and memorize it. all meaningful change starts with a shift in mindset, and if they themselves are not in the right headspace to recognize that something is wrong and actively want to change, you're not going to get anywhere. so yeah....kaiser is not going to change unless HE starts doing the changing.
"i hold you through the toughest parts / when you feel like it's the end / 'cause life is still worth living"
i think this lyric sort of explores kaiser's dynamic with ness. on one front, he is the one picking ness up from his miserable past and instilling a sense of hope into him (intentionally or not.) but on another front, this could also be a problem. kaiser is almost forcefully optimistic in the way that he believes anything is possible. it has to be possible because there can be no other way. but the thing is.....you have to know your limits sometimes. blind optimism is, ironically, similar to cornering yourself.
"i can break you down and pick you up / and fuck like we are friends / but don't be catching feelings"
this is definitely the type of bullshit kaiser would spew. i could picture a fwb or situationship with him where y/n just constantly receives the short end of the stick. now this may be reaching, but i also feel like this is how kaiser projects his own trauma onto others. he himself clawed his way up to the top and put himself back together every time he fell down. the problem is that he also expects you to be that resilient. he's going to treat you badly because you're supposed to be like him: someone who can overcome everything and strive towards the impossible.
the headcanon answer to his top artist would be keshi. in particular, i think kaiser would fit the vibe of "2 soon" and "drunk." long story short, you finally broke up with him, and he's still reeling from the impact.
within my fics, i envision a dialogue between kaiser and y/n from each one of their perspectives. so based on that, i'm going to assign him the following songs/artists:
"gibson girl" by ethel cain
i know i said earlier that kaiser's character is not solely about toxic manipulation, but you have to understand that all bad habits originate from somewhere. kaiser is innately self-destructive, and he brings you down along with him. this song is about that but from y/n's perspective. there's this idea of trying to find agency in a situation where you have none. i don't have the word count to explain ethel cain lore in all of its naked glory, but all i can say is that this song is a banger and deals with themes like femininity as a performance, finding power in pain, religious motifs, etc.
"glory box" by portishead
this song is y/n's last plea to kaiser before they fully give up on him and leave. i'm also a sucker for anything that involves an exploration of gender dynamics and what it means to be a woman, and this song is riddled with it.
"suffocation" by crystal castles
this is kaiser post-isagi defeat (cue that one scene where he was trying to choke himself.) similar to sae, it's all or nothing with him. he suffers from this feeling of inferiority. everyone made him out to be this great figure of impossible dreams and legends, but look at him now. he's nothing. aren't you disappointed? he had you fooled, but he also fooled himself. so yeah....kaiser is definitely the most self-deprecating out of all of the boys at blue lock.
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ISAGI
the fanon answer is laufey, and i also agree. he's so sweet, and laufey's music just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. he would also be that one love that came creeping up on you when you least expected it. "valentine" would be the song for that. i picture a reader who's had a series of unfortunate breakups and is right on the edge of giving up entirely. but then isagi comes along, and it's just so easy to love him. as easy as breathing. and then you think maybe it wasn't so bad after all. you just never found the right one until he came into your life. furthermore, isagi is a jazz pop princess, and you can't convince me otherwise.
the headcanon answer is IU. more specifically, i would say "troll" from her lilac album. i feel like even if you and isagi broke up, it would still be like you two never broke up at all. you're both on good terms, and even though you know it's counterproductive to keep cycling back to each other, you do it anyways. and it's okay because you're both still in love.
from my own playlists, i would assign the following songs/artists:
"winter bear" by v
this is my comfort song. it feels like those big sherpa blankets you tuck yourself under when you're lying next to the heater in winter. isagi would kiss your forehead and nuzzle your nose before you two drifted off to sleep.
"a boy named pluto" by hailey knox
this one is so romantic lol. i also like the dynamic where one party is afraid to love, but the other person loves them unconditionally. that would be isagi. he'd respect your decision and wait for you as long as you need it. but if you're ever ready to give him a chance, just know that he's going to treasure all of you.
"put your records on" by ritt momney
the inspiring thing about isagi is that he never lets anyone put him down. he takes rejection as redirection, failure as room for improvement. and in that way, i think this song encapsulates his resilience. he'd be such a good boyfriend not just romantically but in the way that he would literally pick you back up to your feet, dust you off, and make sure everything was alright.
"fairy of shampoo" by dosii
i picture isagi as someone who falls first and falls harder. he just loves you so much, and he doesn't even need a reason why. i saw somewhere that sometimes you don't love someone because they're your soulmate/twin flame/supernaturally fated other. you love them because you consciously made the decision to. isagi is like that. he loves you on purpose.
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helppp why does this sound like an academic paper...i'm sorry anon. i got carried away with this, but i hope u like it.
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legoliomanikas · 24 days
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Brief Thoughts About Aventurine, Religion, and Colonialism
This isn't a comprehensive summary, just things I started thinking about. It's kinda funny how things just completely fly past you when you don't think about them regularly, cuz I'm a very not-religious person so it took reading someone offhandedly refer to aspects of Aventurine's backstory as his "religious beliefs" for me to realize how important those actually are.
(2.1 Story Spoilers + reading the Sigonia relic set description will help for some context)
Despite his employment in the IPC calling for Aventurine to help amass capital in the name of Qlipoth the Preservation, we don't really hear him talk about Qlipoth often and his backstory basically omits mention of his relationship to THEM; the focus is entirely about his relationship with Gaiathra Triclops and HER blessing of luck.
The present Aventurine has changed a lot from his young self due to the influence of the IPC, in direct ways such as his newfound wealth and ruthless business practices, and in indirect manners such as how the IPCs involvement in the inter-tribal relationships of Sigonia resulted in higher tensions between the Avgins, Katicans, and other tribes.
However, his belief in Gaiathra Triclops has remained intact into his adulthood. It has soured as he begun to view HER blessing of good luck to be more akin to a curse, but it feels like a very deliberate writing decision to have him still hold onto the belief system of the Avgin. It would have been reasonable if he had later turned to the protection of Qlipoth, as joining the IPC had resulted in the wealth and status he has now, but he doesn't really do this.
Even if the colonialism took much away from him, he still wishes to retain his culture. (The value he places in the items his parents left for him and sister: the charm, the necklace, and the shirt, is further testament to this, as examples outside of his religious beliefs.)
Prayer is also something that we rarely see depicted often in Star Rail, which makes the segments of Aventurine praying with his younger self and sister stand out a lot more. The only character I can recall off the top of my head with an extended prayer sequence is Sunday at the end of 2.0, which is also notable.
One thing that I was wishing the Penacony plot would at least lampshade is the irony of sending Aventurine, a slave working for the IPC, to retake a planet that had led a slave rebellion to escape the IPC's control. While I'm now uncertain if they will address that directly, I do wonder that as we learn more about Sunday, if his relationship with Xipe the Harmony will end up being used as a way to foil him to Aventurine and/or serve as indirect commentary on the situation between the IPC and Penacony. (This is pure speculation)
But yea anyways, it's pretty interesting seeing mihoyo try to incorporate other aspects of racism and colonialism that extend beyond displays of outright hatred, such as how Aventurine's retainment of his culture's religious practices is depicted in a positive light. (Another thing that stuck out to me is how they depicted the fetishization of racial traits negatively, with the way some characters remark on his eyes, how the Avgin's untrustworthy reputation partially lies within their physical attractiveness, and how his relationship with his own appearance has changed as a result, as this is something I rarely see fictionalized but I won't elaborate on this here bc its off-topic.)
Obviously, mihoyo doesn't have the best track record when writing minorities and there's still a fucktonnnnn to be criticized about their decisions in Aventurine's lore as well (the most egregious of which being deriving the name for his planet from an actual slur), but it does seem like they are at least trying to add more depth to their depictions.
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tumble-witch · 4 months
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TW light suggestion of body horror. No descriptions though!
Creatomachia
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Bunnix shows up in Marinette's bedroom when it's already dark outside.
Marinette knows what the older heroine is about to ask the second she hears the burrow open. When Bunnix greets her, Marinette is hyperventilating. Instead of exchanging pleasantries, she asks:
- Is it... him again?
Bunnix has a grim expression on her face, yet shakes her head. Marinette exhales. She has another question.
- Is it something I did?
- No. I'm sorry I'm asking this from you again. I'm sorry there will be no answers yet.
- It's okay. I am ready.
At first Ladybug thinks she is on another planet. Another dimension, even. There are cloud fractals in the sky. There is a street light growing out of another one, growing out of another one, growing out of another one... Trees are huge and have so many leaves they are almost a solid green mass. Some buildings are so tall they go way past the clouds in a curvy line. It reminds her of the Jack and the Beanstalk fairytale her mom used to read her before bed.
The roads branch out like blood vessels, getting smaller with each separation, ending in dead ends near the buildings or growing vertically on top of the walls.
The whole city almost looks like it could move at any second. It almost looks alive.
As Ladybug progresses through the streets (if she can even call them that), she finally realizes where the people are.
At least, what's left of them.
Infinite growth apparently works on humans, too. She never thought she'd be so thankful to see somebody not move.
The silence makes her ears ring. Everything is quiet, except for some mechanical sounds the structures make, not really meant to support their own weight in this new form.
Then, she hears laughter.
A girl with hair so long she's not sure where it ends is frantically pacing around the roof, her body movements jittery and odd. As the camera of the heroine's yo-yo focuses on the akuma, helping seek out where the cursed butterfly is hiding, Ladybug realizes the dress this girl is wearing is not grey.
It's is covered in trillions of colourful tiny dots of different shapes and sizes. They seem jittery too, as if trying to move, but some force is making them stay together. This feels like standing up after lying down for too long. Looking at the pattern for too long makes her head hurt
Ladybug continues hiding. She takes her time looking for clues. At this point she's not really sure if the girl is actually laughing or this is a weird hysterical cry. Sometimes the akuma starts muttering under her nose, too quiet to make out most of the words. Ladybug is pretty sure she heard the girl say "I can fix this" a few times though. She shifts to hear the words better.
The akuma turns around
This is the hardest she's ever fought. Chat Blanc feels like child's play now.
While the villain almost looks out of breath, long hair going everywhere, Ladybug is still barely able to keep up.
The air is too dense with oxygen.
The girl has a yo-yo as a weapon, in a cruel twist of irony. And she's damn good with it. Yet, she clearly hesitates in using the thing, saving it as a last resort to escape.
Ladybug tries to reason with the akumatized victim.
- Wait! Please, let me help you!
- You don't understand, - the girl looks around frantically, - I have to fix this! I need to fix this!
Villain's grey yo-yo starts to glow white and she throws it at a fire hydrant, making it grow another one on top.
The akuma was inside the earring. Ladybug was hit by the yo-yo. She doesn't have the time to think as she casts Miraculous cure, just before her brain registered the pain fully.
She'll remember the way it looked when she closes her eyes though.
The streets go back to normal. Her body is normal. Ladybug turns around and meets the eyes of
herself
Marinette sits on the ground, horrified. But before Ladybug can talk to her Bunnix appears and she has to go.
Bunnix doesn't say anything as they walk through the burrow, but she's pretty sure the older heroine is holding her shoulder softer than ever before.
They didn't change anything. They didn't fix anything after they came back, no scoldings, no erasing her name from anywhere, nothing. Marinette is growing more paranoid at every turn, expecting to get akumatized. Her conflict avoidance is at all times high. She's withdrawing from her friends.
Nobody is near when Hawkmoth himself shows up in the middle of the night and she has to transform. He senses her distress immediately.
This is just too easy.
The butterfly lands in her earring just as she started to call for a last effort Lucky Charm.
"Creatomachia, this is Hawkmoth. You are overwhelmed with every problem creating a million smaller ones. Things seem to stack on top of each other and just never end. I'll give you the power to fix everything. In return, you will give me your and Chat Noir's miraculous."
For a split second, everything is white.
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venuszn · 5 months
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☆ : The Sun & Moon
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Summary / Reader is hurting from the breakup between her and Bada.
Cw / Heavy angst, Avoidant and Anxious dynamic, Situationship, Emotional codependency, Bada is emotionally unavailable and is also hurting.
Authors note / I totally did not write this in one sitting to vent out the emotions I am feeling nope did not do that at all. Lol anyways I might be in my angst era this one was easy to write (it was therapy). Also, if you got the moon reference at the very end then yay. As usual you can always request and lmk what you think ! 💗
Wc / 1.3K words
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Nobody prepared you for this. You did not prepare for this.
Of course, you have been here before. The situation, not being one of unfamiliarity, but you had hoped it would have evaded you for years to come or perhaps even forever. But yet, you find yourself at the very place you dread. The bottomless pit of the feeling named abandonment. You were truly and utterly alone.
How does one mourn the loss of a person still breathing ? Of a person still of flesh and blood. How does one attempt to manoeuvre this emotion and steer themselves onwards and upwards, out of the coldness of the darkness. Nobody prepared you for this.
You drag your feet out of bed, body heavy and thoughts accompanying. Bada should be beside you, but she is not. You look to the bed and you can almost see her laying there, fringe messily draped over her forehead as she would hold you from behind; her soft fingers gently tracing your skin as the both of you would lay there intertwined in body and heart. She always slept on the right and you on the left - that was how things were supposed to be. Now you wake up to nothing but the faint ghosts of what could have been.
You still sleep on the left.
As you gaze into the dirty mirror, a person you cannot recognise lazily gazes back. Her eyes empty but weeping with emotion. But no tears. Your eyes flicker to the toothbrush holder - yours stands in lonesome.
The irony if it all doesn't escape you - how does a person afraid of abandonment initiate the abandoning ? A person who is tired and at their breaking point.
You had always believed that Bada was the one. Nobody had ever made you feel the way she did. Nobody had understood you the way she did and with her you felt an unwavering sense of home - if she was the moon you were the sun.
But perhaps there’s a reason why the sun and the moon are long lost lovers, the beauty of their differences being the harmony that keeps them in balance, but forever doomed to chase the other to the ends of the earth.
You would have chased Bada to the ends of the earth. But would she have done the same for you ?
Despite how many times Bada tried to provide the reassurance you sought, insecurity remained at the back of your mind. You tried your hardest to be the sun for Bada. You saw how she was struggling, how there were times where she couldn't be emotionally present for you but you still shone your rays over her. Overshadowing your own troubles you gave her all of your light, hoping that she would soon start glowing.
But she didn’t.
The mourning had already begun.
As the days passed you felt Bada pulling further away. Your biggest fear. The moon can’t pull away from the sun, what would happen to the existing balance and harmony that they shared ?
“I’m sorry. I can’t give you a relationship right now. I’ve told you this.”
“I know.” You say as you sit on the bed, head down and playing with your fingers.
“So what should we do ?”
“I don’t know . . .” Bada never knew.
“I need you to make a decision, Bada. I’m here right now because I care about you a whole fucking lot. Probably a lot more than you care about me. How many times do we have this conversation a month ? You say you can’t give me a relationship and I say ‘It’s fine’ and I stay because you want me to stay and I want to stay. I don’t want to leave you.” You choke out, swallowing the lump rising in your throat.
Bada sighs and runs her long fingers through her hair in defeat. “And I don’t want to leave you either. But I also know that I'm not ready to give you a proper relationship. I want to treat you like you deserve to be treated. I want to do all of that and more for you but I just can’t - not right now.”
“So when ?”
“I don’t have the answer to that.”
“But you want me to stay ?”
“It’ll hurt like a bitch if you leave.”
“Then I'll stay.”
It was a vicious cycle. You and Bada were heavily dependent on the other - truly the sun and the moon.
A period of time passed where the both of you deluded yourselves into pretending that everything was fine - that you were not both teetering on the edge of gravity. A relationship but lacking the security. It was nothing but a ticking time bomb ready to implode.
Tick.
Gentle touches and hushed sounds. Innocent kisses and those filled with longing. You both continued the facade - ignoring the faint ticking sound of the inevitable in the background.
Tick.
Bada would lean down and eagerly kiss you - when asked.
She would wrap her arms around you, engulfing you in her comfortable embrace and give tender kisses to your forehead - when asked.
“Bada, why don't you kiss me first ?” You had asked one day, feeling the insecurity creep up once more.
“Oh, I’m not used to initiating affection. It’s not something I've done in the past but please don’t think I don’t want to kiss or touch you. I do - that's why I always do it when you ask.”
“Oh, alright.”
Tick.
You knew Bada, you knew she would never intentionally cause you pain. You understood her behaviour and tried your hardest to accommodate your differing personalities. You truly cared for her and so you stayed and stayed everytime.
Tick.
But just as all things began they must also come to an end.
What will happen once the sun stops shining ? How many aeons will it take till it finally gives up - till the fuel runs dry and it begins to die.
“Bada, if you don’t want to do this anymore we don’t have to . . .”
Bada had pulled further away that week and you were at a loss. You were exhausted.
“It’s not that. It’s not about you specifically. I’m just not okay right now, you know this. There’s a lot going on and I don't know when I'll be ok . . . This isn’t fair to you, I know.”
“I think we should end this.”
Your eyes don’t leave Bada’s face as you read her expression - nothing.
Maybe you had both come to terms with it.
“I’m sorry. I tried to be happy for you and tried to pretend that everything was okay - that we were okay.”
“We haven’t been okay for a while now. And I wasn’t happy either. But it's fine. One of us had to make the difficult decision that we had been avoiding so at least now it’s been made. I hope you can be happier now, Bada.”
“I didn’t want to disappoint you . . . I don’t know what else to say right now.”
“That's okay. You don't have to say anything more, I'll be going now.”
You had taken a few of your things from her place and left through the door, unsure of if you ever wanted to return to collect the rest of your belongings. Your heart had never ached like it did in that moment.
You were no longer the sun.
The reflection gazing back at you was not one of brightness and warmth. You were barren of warmth and light as you wondered if you should have confessed to the moon and complemented its beauty.
The words, accompanied with the rise of tears, fall from your lips and into the deadness of the air.
“The moon is beautiful, isn't it ?”
Tag list / @princhii , @lil-elliesgf , @wiselight @nimixe ! [OPEN]
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lytmeowtif · 2 years
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Calamari Inkantation is a Big Deal.
Splatoon 3's campaign has a WHOLE LOT of lore in it, a metric fuckload, and in there are some tidbits that make me really REALLY emotional. But one major facet of the backstory 3 introduces retroactively makes the climaxes of both Splatoon 1 and 2 resonate with me so, so much more.
This is gonna be super super detailed and has MAJOR spoilers for Splatoon 3's campaign, so don't click Read More until you've gotten all the logs! (except the postgame one, I haven't read it yet lol)
So. to get to Calamari Inkantation we first have to discuss literally all of the Alterna Logs and the backstory they present. Namely, we have to talk about the liquid crystals, and about humanity's desire for freedom.
The small pocket of humans that escape the effective end of the world take refuge and build their new home inside a flooded volcano crater. They survive by eating the sea life already living in that crater, particularly the squids and octopi. They manage to build a thriving society, and are safe in their cavernous home of Alterna. But they always long for more. They miss the outside world dearly.
They discover that they can make liquid crystals out of the body fluids of the cephalopods native to the crater's waters. When screens are made using those crystals, like modern LCD displays, they react to the thoughts and emotions of those near them. They set them up throughout the entire cavern, covering the walls and roof completely.
Those crystals could display anything, anything at ALL that humanity had on its mind. But the desire to return home to the surface is so strong - so overwhelming - that every single liquid crystal reacted to it and let them see the sky they longed for, the sky that they had been without for 25 long years.
Humanity of course fucks up, and the crystals all overload when humanity tries to escape their tunnel system via rocket and cave in almost everything, destroying Alternan society.
But their desire doesn't fade with them. Their desperate need to see the sky, their longing to escape out into the world again, is still stored in all those billions of liquid crystals which have now collapsed into the ocean. All that longing for freedom, all that desire to see the sun again, is now polluting the waters and over centuries is gradually absorbed into the sea life of Alterna.
Little-by-little, those desires become the desires of the squid and octopi and assorted sea creatures that live there, and they adapt. Their evolution is accelerated by their desperate need to see the sun and the sky.
Humanity never achieved their desire to escape the caves of Alterna. But their desperate longing was soaked up by the life of the sea, and the squid and octopi followed their new calling and found freedom. They absorbed the feelings and memory and hopes and fears of humanity and built an entire society just like the one that humans had left behind.
(From here I could diverge and talk about the tragic irony of Tartar wanting to eliminate inkling and octoling society for things that likely were also inherited from humans, but others have covered that ground.)
Instead I'm going to talk about humanity's desire for freedom, and about Calamari Inkantation.
Calamari Inkantation isn't just a really cool bop that everyone loves, written by the Squid Sisters. It borderline has magical powers; it dispels the last of Callie's mind control in Splatoon 2's story and is described as having "blown the hearts and minds" of anyone who witnessed it in Splatoon 1's finale. Marina heard it, said "This changes everything", vanished and immediately made for the surface. Agent 8 was similar, as Marina recounts:
DJ_Hyperfresh > I could tell right away that Agent 8 had also been touched by the Calamari Inkantation. DJ_Hyperfresh > Once our souls have been freed, there's no way we can continue to live under the oppression of Octarian society.
The parallels are there for sure, but how can we be sure of what's going on? This scroll from Splatoon 1:
"The customary chorus of Calamari County. Nowadays, this song and dance may as well be carved into the very DNA of all Inklings. It began as a way to celebrate and show respect for the bounty of the sea."
That heavenly melody that makes you wonder what's out there, and break past the artificial sky.
It's that same feeling, passed down for thousands of years. The longing of humanity, that desperation to escape their confines and see the sky, to break free!
It endured in Inklings and Octolings, for all of time, passed down in their blood and in their culture and song and dance, and that desire was so STRONG that hearing it in musical form was enough to bring those feelings flooding back to every Octarian and immediately make them defect and seek the surface world.
Humanity may be long gone, but their hopes and desires and dreams were so strong and rang so true that they live on even now, aeons later, withstanding the passage of time.
That's it. That's Calamari Inkantation.
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