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dialovers-translations · 3 years

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Diabolik Lovers LUNATIC PARADE ;; Shuu Route ー Chapter 4

Monologue

Afterwardsーー

We were genuinely gifted,

many props to decorate the party venue,

by Aji-san,

who had been deeply moved by the Ghost Flower.

We were also able to get information from the gondolier

on how to set up the gondola

to resemble the way it looked when Riegel-san and his wife met,

in an attempt to please him,

as much as possible.

And then...

ー The scene starts at the Rubin Canal

Yui: ( Phew...I guess we’re about halfway done with the decorations. )

Shuu-san, what do you think...?

Shuu: Looks fine to me. Not bad.

ー The gondolier runs up to them

Gondolier B: Ooh, what a surprise! These decorations are identical to those from the past. For a second, I thought I had gone back in time...

ーー Oh. Whoops, silly me.

The owner of the sweets shop came to the docks. He’s looking for you two.

Yui: Yes!

ー The scene shifts to the docks

Sweets shop owner: ーー Aah! There you are!

Yui: Good evening.

Sweets shop owner: Save those formalities for later! More importantly, take a look at this!

Here’s your order.

*Thud*

Yui: Waah! Looks delicious...!

Sweets shop owner: I think it turned out excellent, if I may say so myself. Will this do?

Yui: Of course! Thank you so much!

Sweets shop owner: Aah, I’m glad!

I should probably head back to my shop then.

Aah, so busy, so busy!

ー The sweets shop owner leaves

Shuu: ...His lack of composure is a huge flaw, but I can’t deny his skill.

Yui: ( I’m sure Riegel-san will be pleased with this as well, right? )

ーー Well then, we should probably make a quick stop at the hotel then. We have to get ready as well.

ー The scene shifts to the main street

Yui: ( Okay, everything is going smoothly so far...! )

( Ah...But there’s one more thing to do before we return to the hotel... )

Shuu-san. Is there a shop where we could borrow some clothes around here?

It’s a party, so I figured I should probably prepare a dress.

Shuu: ...Hmm.

This way then.

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the hotel room

Yui: ( I guess most of the preparations are done... )

Shuu: The Familiars will arrange a picture of Riegel-san’s wife to put inside the pendant.

They should bring it to us before the party starts.

Yui: Thank you very much.

I guess we should start getting ready too then.

You can go ahead and take a bath first. I’ll go through the list one more time to confirm we’ve got everything.

Shuu: Nn...

ー Shuu leaves for the bathroom

Yui: ( Okay... )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ( ...Yeah. There’s nothing we overlooked. )

( Now we just have to wait for the party to start. )

( I hope Riegel-san will like it... )

*Flap flap flap*

Yui: Ah...

( It’s one of Shuu-san’s Familiars. They’re holding the photograph... )

*Flap flap flap*

Yui: Thanks!

*Flip*

Yui: ( So this is Riegel-san’s wife. What a beautiful person with such a lovely smile. )

( That’s a younger Riegel-san standing next to her, right? )

( The two of them really did look happy together. )

( That’s why...I feel sad thinking about how much emotional pain Riegel-san has to go through right now... )

( We have to make this party a success at all costs! )

ー Shuu enters the room

Shuu: Hm...Oh? The Familiar’s back already?

Yui: Yes. They brought this pictuーー

Wah!?

S-Shuu-san, your clothes...

Shuu: I just got out of the bath so what did you expect?

Yui: A-Anyway, hurry up and put something on!

Shuu: Good grief, what are you so flustered about still...?

ー Shuu walks towards the wardrobe

Yui: ( That shocked me...! )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: This is Riegel-san’s wife.

Shuu: Hm...

Yui: I...Seeing them standing next to each other, I thought to myself once more.

I want to make this party a success. I want to lessen his pain even just a little...

I want to do anything within my power.

Shuu: ...Anything, huh?

But haven’t you forgotten how we ended up in this situation in the first place?

It’s not like we were trying to help Riegel from the very beginning.

We approached him in hopes of getting information on the Count and find a way to retrieve your heart.

Yui: That’s...true but...

Even so, I can’t just leave him in the cold...!

Shuu: ...Why not?

ー He steps closer

Yui: ( Shuu-san...? )

Shuu: You’re awfully persistent about helping him out.

Did you fall for him or something?

Yui: ...!? T-That’s not it!

Shuu: I wonder? Then who is it you like?

Yui: W-Well...

ーー You, Shuu-san. You’re the only one I love.

Shuu: Heeh...

Yui: ( Uu, this is kind of embarrassing... )

A-And you...? Who do you like?

Shuu: Go ahead and think about that question a bit. If Iーー

*Thud*

Shuu: Pin you down on the bed like this, I guess the answer should become a little clear?

ーー Nn.

*Smooch*

Yui: Ah...!

Shuu: Once the party starts, you’ll take on the appearance of Riegel’s wife for a while, right?

So keep still and let me have my fun nowーー

Yui: ( ...Shuu-san... )

Monologue

And then,

it was finally time for the party to start.

Together with Shuu-san,

the two of us once again,

headed towards the candy house where Riegel-san lives.

Before knocking on the door,

I put the picture of Riegel-san’s wife,

inside the pendant hanging from my neck.

And voila ーー

Yui: ( ...This feels kind of odd. Like I’m no longer myself. )

Um...How do I look?

Shuu: On the outside, you’re a split image of the woman in the picture. But...

Yui: ( ...? I wonder what’s wrong? )

Shuu: Your little quirks when you’re lost in thought are still the same as usual. You haven’t changed on the inside.

Well then, guess we should get going soon.

Yui: Y-Yes!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the candy house

Shuu: Riegel should be even more wary now of potential humans trying to visit him.

So it’d probably be best if I greet him first.

Yui: I’m counting on you.

Shuu: Yeah...

*Knock knock*

Shuu: Riegel. It’s me.

*Knock knock*

Shuu: I’ve decided to hold a party for you today.

Riegel: ...A party?

Shuu: Yeah, exactly. A party.

Riegel: I’m not taking part in such a thing. Just do as you please without me.

Shuu: ...I don’t mind either way, really.

But there’s a little guest for you.

I’m sure it’s someone you’d kill forーー

*Thud*

Riegel: Aah! Could it be!?

Yui: ( Riegel-san... )

*Rustle*

Yui: ( Wah! H-He embraced me... )

Riegel: Marian! Aah, Marian!!

Shuu: ...

Yui: ( Shuu-san walked away... )

Riegel: I missed you...! I’ve wanted to see you again so badly, Marian! This whole time, ever since that day...

Yui: W-Wait. I’mーー

Riegel: You finally returned to my side, didn’t you? Aah, I’m so glad...

Yui: ( He totally thinks...I’m his actual wife, doesn’t he? )

ー The scene fades to black

Yui: ( But I’m not. )

( ...Shuu-san knew this would happen, hence why he was so reluctant to using the pendant... )

( Yet, I... )

...Ugh.

ー The scene shifts to the Rubin Canal

Shuu: ...

Yui: ( Shuu-san’s napping in the corner, huh...? )

Riegel: ...Aah...Well if it isn’t the place where we first met!

If I recall correctly...I fell for you at first sight.

Meanwhile you were rather frightened of me at first.

However...After our feelings became mutual, you let me in on your secret, didn’t you?

That back then, it was love at first sight for you as well.

You remember, don’t you? There’s no way you could ever forget.

Yui: ...

Riegel: Fufu...Aah, anyway, this food is amazing.

This cake in particular...It’s delicious.

You should give it a try as well.

Yui: Eh? Sure...

( What should I do? I have to tell him the truth... )

Riegel: What’s wrong? Do you feel sick?

Yui: No...It’s...

There’s something I have to tell you.

I’m sorry. I...I’m not the real Marian.

Riegel: ...

Yui: This pendant around my neck holds a mysterious power, and that’s how...

Riegel: ...

Yui: I’m sorry...

Shuu: ...Good grief...

ー Shuu walks up to them

Yui: ( Shuu-san... )

Riegel: ...

...I don’t mind.

Yui: Eh?

Riegel: I don’t sweat the details.

I knew from the very start. That you were just a fake.

The dead won’t come back to life. I know that much.

...That’s exactly why.

Because I know that death is permanent...

I want to at least...Hold onto you while you look just like my wife.

Forever!

ー Riegel grabs hold of Yui

Yui: Kyaah!

Shuu: Wha...!?

ー The scene shifts to Aizen Alley

Riegel: Haah, haah, haah...!

Yui: R-Riegel-san! Please, let go of my hand...

Riegel: No! If I do that, you’ll leave me! I’m sick and tired of being all alone...!

Yui: ( What on earth should Iーー )

*Woosh*

Yui: Ah...!

( I-I can’t breathe...!? )

*Woosh*

Riegel: O-Oi! What’s wrong!?

*Woosh*

Yui: ( My heart...The Kleinod...It’s at its limit already... )

Shuu: Oi!

ー Shuu runs up to them

Yui: ( Shuu-san... )

Shuu: ...Finally found you. Enough of this vain struggle.

Let go of her.

Riegel: I won’t. I’m not letting go of Marian!

Shuu: Then I’ll force you. She’s mine.

Besides...Her heart won’t last much longer.

I don’t have the time to play along with your elopement act right now.

You know better than anyone how much it hurts to lose the woman you love, don’t you!?

Riegel: ...

Iーー

*Woosh*

Yui: Aah...!

Shuu: Yui!

Riegel: ...Ugh!

Yui: ( I...can’t...no more... )

Monologue

As my eyelids gradually grow heavier,

my body somehow becomes light.

It feels as if I am floating mid-air

Seeping through the darkness,

a light shines upon me.

Somebody is standing at the other side.

I can’t see their face because of the reflection,

but the person I treasure more than anyone,

is holding out their hand towards me.

I want toーー grab hold of it.

I can’t stand being separated,

not even for a single second.

While writhing around in the darkness,

I continued to extend my hand straight forward.

And then...

ー Yui wakes up inside of Riegel’s house

Yui: ( ...Where am I...? )

Shuu: You’re awake...?

Yui: Shuu-san...

Shuu: ...Don’t make me worry too much.

Yui: I’m sorry...

Um...What happened to me afterwards...?

Shuu: Youーー

ー A flashback ensues

Shuu: Hang in there!

Yui: ...

Shuu: Oi, Riegel.

Riegel: W-What...What should I do...!?

Shuu: Riegel! Calm down.

Can you tell me everything you know about this Count?

I’m begging you.

Riegel: Shuu...

...I’m sorry...It’s true that the two of us were close in the past.

But I’m afraid I don’t know much more than that his manor’s security is impregnable.

He would never talk about himself after all...

Shuu: ...Ugh.

Riegel: I’m sorry...I truly am...

Shuu: ...Fuck...I...

Yui: ...Uu...

Shuu: ...!

It’s too early to give up just yet. The Kleinod is still moving!

ー The flashback ends

Shuu: ーー Then we carried you here afterwards. Your condition gradually became more stable after all.

Yui: So that happened...

*Thud*

Riegel: ...

Yui: Riegel-san...

Riegel: ...My bad.

This happened because I lost sight of myself...

Yui: No. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.

Riegel: Oh no...I felt so happy I was able to see Marian again, even for just a split second. From the bottom of my heart...

That’s why I didn’t want to let go of her.

But...Then I realized that was wrong of me.

Because Marian would never approve of hurting someone else like that.

I’m sure she’s scolding me right now in the afterlife.

Besides...

Even if she’s not next to me, she remains within my heart forever. I finally realized that.

Yui: Riegel-san...

Riegel: I’ll help you two out to retrieve your heart.

???: That won’t be necessary.

Shuu: ...!?

Yui: This voice...It can’t be...

Riegel: Walter!

Count Walter: Hello there! It has been a while, hasn’t it? Riegel. And...You as well, young lady.

Yui: Y-You’re...Count Walter!?

Count Walter: The one and only.

Shuu: ...So? Now this is quite the nifty show you’ve put together, approaching us yourself like this.

Not that I care. I guess this saves us a lot of trouble.

I’ll make sure you return her heart at once.

Count Walter: ーー Of course. That is what I came here for after all.

Yui: W-What do you mean?

Count Walter: Fufufu...

ーー You see. I have been watching you to observe your behavior after you lost your heart.

To test whether or not you two are fit to hold onto one of the treasures of this world...That is.

Yui: ( I-I see... )

Count Walter: And the answer became clear just now.

You chose not to abandon this man who had been stricken with grief, but instead tried to bring the light back in his life.

Wonderful!

Thereforeーー

*Ba-dump*

Yui: Ah...!?

*Ba-dump ・ ba-dump*

Shuu: Yui!

Yui: Shuu...san...

( ...Huh...? )

( My body feels light. And warm...? )

Shuu: Are you okay!? Hang in there!

Yui: Ah...I-I’m fine.

If anything...It seems like I’ve got my heart back!

Shuu: ....What on earth...?

Walter: Fufu...

Well then. I will excuse myself now.

ーー Thank you for the great show.

ー The Count disappears

Monologue

Leaving said words behind,

Count Walter vanished into thin air.

Looking off to the side,

I locked eyes with Shuu-san,

as we somehow both forced a smile.

As for Riegel-san,

he seemed to have completely,

regained his sanity.

After he told us that the least we could do,

was enjoy the remainder of the Parade,

Shuu-san and I,

left the candy house behind us.

ー The scene shifts to Saint Nore Park’s venue

Yui: ( Seems like the Parade hasn’t ended yet! )

( A bunch of things happened, but I’m glad we made it in time... )

Shuu: ...

Yui: ( ...Oh. Maybe I’m the only one getting excited now. I’m sure Shuu-san must be exhausted. )

Um...

Shuu: Nn?

Yui: We’ve been running all over the place, so shall we call it a day and head home?

We can always come to the Parade next yeーー

Yui: ...?

Shuu: Let’s go.

Yui: Eh...?

Shuu: Let’s go to the Parade.

Yui: Are you sure...?

Shuu: What are you saying when you’ve got ‘I want to go!’ written all over your face?

Yui: T-That’s...I would like to go, but...

I’m sure you’re tired, so I want you to be able to get some rest soon...

Shuu: ...Well, I’m pretty much always lacking energy.

I don’t mind making an effort at a time like this.

Yui: ...

Shuu: ...What?

Selection

→ Nothing

Yui: Nothing. Fufu...

Shuu: Look at you talk when you’ve got that grin on your face. Heh...

Yui: ( I’m just so happy, I can’t help it... )

→ Thank him with a kiss (☾)

Yui: Um...Shuu-san?

Shuu: Yeーー

*Smooch*

Shuu: Wha...!?

Yui: You know...To show my gratitude.

( I did it on the spur of the moment, but I’m kind of embarrassed now... )

Shuu: You...Honestly...

Nn...

*Smooch*

Yui: ( ...! This time he kissed me... )

Shuu: ーー Come on. Let’s go to the Parade before I change my mind.

ー Shuu walks away

Yui: Ah, w-wait!

( I’m happy he’s so kind to me... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

← RETURN TO CHAPTER 3

→ PROCEED TO NORMAL ENDING

→ PROCEED TO FINALE ENDING

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #shuu sakamaki #lunatic parade #diabolik lovers translation #lpshuuchapter4

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starfishthestarfish · 4 years

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LIVE (pjm)

PAIRING: Idol! Park Jimin x Idol! Reader

WARNINGS: Smut (M). Pwp, oral (f recieving), fingering, teasing, swearing, sub!Jimin, dom!Reader, fisting, bring the holy water, cum eating, kissing, edging, name calling, begging if you squint, bring more holy water, biting, marking/hickeys, mentions of bondage, punishment, how did i come up with this.

WORD COUNT: 1301

SUMMARY: ignoring your boyfriend’s pleads for attention, you broadcasted a V LIVE. Bad idea, as Jimin gets your attention in another way.

V LIVE IS OWNED BY NAVER CORP.

"Lemme wait for others to connect...” You said, staring at your laptop screen as the numbers raised up in the V app. You were part of a rookie group which debuted under BigHit that had fastly raised up in popularity. You met Jimin even before being a rookie. He had convinced you to audition. A few months before debuting, you both formalized your relationship after you confessed to him. He was hard to get, as he always friendzoned you at the beginning. And about a month later, he asked you to enter a dom/sub relationship. You were scared at the beggining to hurt him, but with time you both became comfortable with it. However, you had to treat him softly, being the small ball of adorableness he is. At least during most of the time.

The numbers had finally raisened up, so you talked once again.

“Hello.” You swiftly lifted your glare through your lashes, to look at Jimin standing beside your desk, in a place where the camera wouldn’t see him. He was pouting, and articulated a word. Noona. You were younger than him, but by the way you cared and took so many cautions with him, he nicknamed you that way. Not that he bother for you to call him oppa at some times. “I turned this on... cause...” You grinned and stared back at the screen. “I didn’t have nothing to do.” Wrong. You were punishing your boyfriend by ignoring him. In your bondage last session, he had cummed without your permission. Your punishment for him was not touching you. For him, it was one of his worst punishments; deep inside you, it was also a torture to use that punishment. You two couldn’t stand more than a day without sex, and the week was almost ending. You both were desperate, but he was obviously much more than you by how much would he beg. So you had planned to remove it this night, until he arrived to your private apartment and mashed his lips against yours in a hungry, full opened mouth kiss, holding your wrists to try and gain control. He had stopped at your orders, and since then be pleading for you to remove the punishment. You inmediatly declined, and ignored him by starting this broadcast. “How are you guys doing?”

However, he had another plans. He got on his knees and crawled below your desk. You raised an eyebrow at his actions, but inmediatly ignored it and looked back at your screen, reading the comments.

:y/n, you’re so pretty!

:y/n

:y/n how are you doing?

:y/n come to Mexico!

:Saranghae!

:y/n, how is the rest?

"The others are resting, we had a tough-”, You blushed when you felt Jimin hiking up your skirt from beneath and spreading your legs. He couldn’t be serious, now?! You were in the middle of a broadcast! “-day!” He started drawing circles with his finger in your inner thighs, taking his time to move to your core. Just a few inches away from your heat, he started to suck ocassionally on your skin, leaving small, red marks on where his mouth landed. You closed your lips tightly when you felt Jimin’s wet tongue lick you over your white panties.

:Are you ok?

:Remember to rest!

:y/n?

:she is surprised of my beauty

:She can’t see you

:give us spoilers on the comeback!

:if you see this show my your hand

“S-sorry, I can’t give any spoilers.” You stuttered, trying to mantain your composture. You tried closing your legs, but his grip on you was so strong you didn’t even budge. With a finger, he pushed your already wet panties aside to have full access to your heat. He let go of one of your thighs to open your folds, licking a stripe just between them. You blushed harder, biting your lip to remain silent, just pretending to stare at the comments. You weren’t reading them anymore. You just concentrated on how his tongue moved in and out of your entrance sloppily, ocassionaly slurping your juices, and prayed for no obscene sounds to be heard in the broadcast. You looked down for a few seconds at his eyes. He stared at you, his eyes darker than normal in a clear sign of lust. Your breathe became heavy, and you looked back at the screen. You slighlty coughed and covered your mouth to avoud gasping when he started circling your clit, adding more pressure each second. You felt the familiar feeling of your orgasm, a heavy knot in your stomache, and the need to release. Until he removed his tongue.

“Fu- uh?”, You restrained your curse. Your stare was blank, your insides clenched in need of feeling his touch again. What had happened? Did he really denied you an orgasm? He was always under orders, he couldn’t deny you. After a few seconds, you felt three fingers slip at once inside you. You arched your back, trying to make it look as if you regained posture. You didn’t open your mouth, terrified a moan would come out. You checked out how much time had you endured live. 15 minutes. You couldn’t take it anymore, you had to turn it off.

“I gotta go guys, I’m re-ally t-tired- bye”, You silently cursed at the way the last words came out almost as moans, and turned it off just as he took his fingers out of you. You released your breath, and thought of pulling away from him.

“F-fuck, Jimin!”, You arched your neck, held on his hair and closed your eyes when he slowly pushed his whole fist inside you. You thought you were going to tear. You normally supported just four fingers inside you, not that this hurt you. Apparently, he knew your limits better than yourself. He pumped his hand in and out of you, and you pulled his hair, moaning. Just as you felt you were close to your release again, he pulled his fist out. You whined in frustration and looked at him, gasping for breathe.

“W-what the hell is wrong with you, Jimin?!”, You opened your eyes to look at him. Even over his piercing dark, lustful eyes and your pussy’s juices glistening on his swollen lips, he smiled like a playful kid.

“You didn’t give me your attention, so I gave you mine.”, He said before licking his lips. You felt your insides twist at the image, and you ached for him to make you cum. If he was waiting for you to beg, damn no, you weren’t going to. Instead, you ordered him.

“...Make me cum”, He stared at you.

“What’s the magic word?”, he laughed. This wasn’t funny for you. You needed a release.

“Now.”, You pushed his head back to your core. He inmediatly started to lick your clit multiple times, kitty-like licks. Just this did you need to explode on your orgasm, arching your back and moaning, your eyes closed. He kept licking you through your high, making sure to leave you clean from your own cum.

“I’ve been a good kitty, please remove the punishment...”, He begged you once your grip on his hair smoothened enough for him to talk again, licking his lips. You stared at him panting, and got up from your chair on your wobbly legs. He crawled out from below the desk, and kneeled.

“Get up”, You ordered him, and he did inmediatly. You approached to him and smashed your lips against his plump, red lips. He moaned slightly when you tugged painfully on his hair. You separated by a few inches, him looking at your lips. You both were lightly panting. “...I’ll remove this punishment, but then you’ll be in denial during next session as a punishment for denying me twice. Got it, kitty?”

Masterlist

#jimin x reader #jimin #jimin bts #park jimin #bts #bts army #bangtan #bangtan boys #bts smut #jimin smut

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nnnnoooooooooooo · 3 years

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My Ballot for They Shoot Pictures, Don’t They?’s 25 Favourite Films Poll

The following is my ballot for They Shoot Pictures, Don’t They?’s poll for their readers’ 25 favourite films of all-time. It contains a dozen or so favourites, several compromises, and a handful of personally foundational texts.

Seven Chances (1925, Buster Keaton): It ain’t easy to only choose one Keaton. This is one of Keaton’s films with a racist blackface character, which gave me some reservations. Still, this is a solid contender as his funniest picture, and, more importantly, this is Buster as I love him the most. Keaton’s characters were always the most cerebral and lost, keen observers with no understanding. An inability to communicate one’s emotions drives the need to convert it into a physical experience; Keaton inevitably becomes the object that cannot be stopped. His full forced desperation and athleticism, he is a master of locomotion. Featuring the finalization of the chase gag, along with a generous serving of his brand of surreal.

City Lights (1931, Charles Chaplin): Comedically and emotionally devastating.

Trouble in Paradise (1932, Ernst Lubitsch): Lubtisch’s portrayal of Continental aristocracy on the cusp. Containing love, melancholy, desire, rivalry, loyalty, betrayal, criminals, and thieves-- all saved by his grace alone, achieving a rare bliss of comedy and romance. Normally, I’d say that, in a temporal world, perfection exists only as a process, but then how would I explain this?

La grande illusion (1937, Jean Renoir): In the best of Renoir’s films, I find a type of harmony I find lacking in the rest of the world.

La règle du jeu (1939, Jean Renoir): In making this list, I never doubted either of these Renoir films having a place. Now, trying to write about my list, I find myself becoming frustrated at not finding the words to explain why I chose them. I’ve never been a great communicator, and I doubt that’s Renoir’s fault. I think it’s best for me to move on before I start misplacing my frustrations with my inability to write onto the film itself.

How Green Was My Valley? (1941, John Ford): Possibly the greatest movie ever made under Hollywood’s Studio System, and perhaps the closest we’ll ever get to seeing what Hedy Lamarr might have seen in John Loder. More than any other actor, Sara Allgood carries this film, in her role as the matriarch of the Morgan household. This is chock full of great character actors and moments as you’d expect from Ford. It’s the magic of childhood, the safety of the womb, the cyclical nature of a town where nothing ever seems to change, and the devastation of entropy. I lost track of how many times I cried.

To Be or Not to Be (1942, Ernst Lubitsch): This is my choice for a comedy from the 1940s, despite stiff competition from Hellzapoppin’, and the 11 movies Preston Sturges released over the decade. I had the privilege of seeing this at my local Cinemateque with an introduction by Kevin McDonald. I was late, and the audience had already begun to talk back. He rolled, and we were soon laughing before the “projectionist” could hit ‘play’ on the Blu-Ray. My friend came later. It was a packed house, so we weren’t able to sit together. I enjoyed hearing the variances in people’s response*, and the timing of their laughter. Trying to pinpoint my friend’s laughter from the crowd, I couldn’t help but hear our host’s generous laughter throughout the film. What a joy it was for all of us to experience this film together. I guess I haven’t had a chance to share those other movies the way that I was with this one. *A nice change of pace, as this usually makes me self-conscious

Shadow of a Doubt (1943, Alfred Hitchcock): I find Hitchcock’s women’s pictures to be some of his richest texts. Besides which, any film asking me to sympathize with Theresa Wright already has a lot going for it. Alongside The Wrong Man as Hitchcock’s most tragic film.

Brief Encounter (1945, David Lean): My favourite romance, whatever that says about me. A passionate extramarital affair between Laura Jesson (Celia Johnson) and Dr. Alec Harvey (Trevor Howard), told in flashback. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this placed among noirs, but I think this could be an example of a women’s film noir. There’s a thick sense of transgression and fatalistic mise-en-scene, along with an inability to escape, which ends the film on an unconvincing return to safety. After the two lovers part for the final time, Johnson returns home. Her husband, Stanley Holloway, asks for nothing, and expresses gratitude for her return. However, for all of that loveliness, Johnson has learned that the world is far more fragile than she ever dreamt. The husband is portrayed as a bit childlike, and, coupled with the affably stiff upper-lipped nature of their marriage, Johnson is unable to confess what’s occurred, which only preserves her turmoil. Unable to consummate, sustain, or forsake her romance with Howard, she may find some refuge with her husband, but salvation eludes her.

Out of the Past (1947, Jacques Tourneur): RKO Pictures, film noir, Jacques Tourneur, and Robert Mitchum– These are a few of my favourite things. As a prude, I don’t care to admit that I love cigarette smoke in B&W pictures as much as I do, and it’s deployed here to its zenith, courtesy of Nicholas Musuraca’s cinematography. Daniel Mainwaring’s script, along with Tourneur and Mitchum, use underplay in order to create a heightened effect. Mitchum’s somnambulism grants his portrayal of Jeff Bailey an omniscient cool, which extends to his character’s bisexuality. There’s such delight in hearing Mitchum, one of the best voices in movies, deliver the film’s lyrical dialogue in his disaffected baritone.

The Big Heat (1953, Fritz Lang): Perhaps Lang’s most cynical film? The culmination of all his conspiracies. The law vs. criminals, no longer as separate from one another, but as sides of the same coin: the establishment. Sergeant Bannion (Glenn Ford) engages in total war against Lagana’s (Alexander Scourby) crime syndicate. Those caught in between end up as collateral damage, pawns in their game. Each dismantles the family unit, Lagana disposes of Bannion’s wife (Jocelyn Brando), and Bannion displaces his child, so that both sides can carry on unfettered. The happy ending finds Bannion happily back at work in the homicide department, where they’re informed of a grisly murder. Oh boy, here we go again! Gloria Grahame, a sister under the mink, reigns as my favourite actress in all of film noir.

The Sun Shines Bright (1953, John Ford): It’s not easy to film a miracle, a feat for which I’d pair this with Carl Th. Dreyer’s penultimate film, Ordet. Speaking of Dreyer, if you have 15 minutes to spare, here’s a great video of Jonathan Rosenbaum discussing this movie alongside Dreyer’s final film, Gertrud. The responsibilities and limitations of society. Communities are built through sacrifice, as we give of ourselves, which accounts for the film’s sometimes funereal tone. One’s resting spot as the place to make a stand, but what good is taking a stand if it doesn’t lead anywhere? Our redemption lies not in preserving ourselves, but in guiding the world to a place that no longer needs us. Thus, not a dying world to save, but an understanding that we must pass in order to bring about renewal. Funerals become parades, and parades become funerals, as we walk the strait and narrow path between tradition and progress. Don’t take a stand while the world marches on, but lead us into thy rest.

The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T (1953, Roy Rowland): This is a musical written and designed by Dr. Seuss, which is to say that I think you oughta see it. Still, it’s hard to justify why I chose this over The Band Wagon. I’d probably better enjoy watching The Band Wagon, which I’d wager is Hollywood’s greatest musical, but there’s something about The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T that gets under my skin. I saw it on television when I was very young. Old enough to remember seeing it, but too young to remember more than three details: twins joined at the beard, the nightmare-inducing elevator operator, and a large piano requiring an exponential amount of fingers. This forgotten foundation, along with its Seussian imagery, grants the film a dreamlike feeling. Just as every good boy deserves fudge, every Hans Conried deserves a role like the one he has here, playing the titular Dr. T.

The Night of the Hunter (1955, Charles Laughton): A kid’s film featuring the personification of evil, not in Mitchum’s portrayal of the preacher Harry Powell, but in Evelyn Varden’s Icey Spoon. This movie is so full of indelible images that I sometimes forget LOVE/HATE tattooed on Powell’s knuckles. There’s a dreadful unease from the inability to fully save or preserve Ben & Pearl within a society whose systems turn on them so easily. Their safety is drawn and quartered at every turn, and so Ben & Pearl flee society, finding a guardian out yonder. Still, there’s a limitation to their newfound guardian’s protection. Their angel and their demon sing in harmony; evil becomes instructive to the children’s growth. It’s a hard world for little things, but there is hope. Mrs. Cooper (Lillian Gish) manages to find her redemption in protecting these children while she can. Perhaps we need them as much as they need us. This was Charles Laughton’s only film as a director, as well as the final of James Agee’s two films as a screenwriter. It isn’t right.

Sweet Smell of Success (1957, Alexander Mackendrick): This is my favourite film noir, possibly the nastiest as well. Of course, I cackle throughout the entire picture. Burt Lancaster and Tony Curtis at their bests; the tension between a malevolent god and his jester/would-be pretender played as flirtation, conducting assassinations as though they were composing poetry. Shot on location in New York by James Wong Howe, giving us a view of Babel from the gutters up. Also, I’m just a big ol’ softy for Emile Meyer, who plays Lt. Kello.

Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? (1957, Frank Tashlin): As I see it, this is the best sex comedy of the ‘50s and ‘60s. Tashlin previously worked at Termite Terrace, making Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies, and did a brief stop making Screen Gem cartoons over at Columbia in the middle. After having brought feature film techniques to his cartoons, he brought cartoon imagery into his live-action films. This is a vehicle for Jayne Mansfield, who may have been the most cartoonish of the era’s blonde bombshells, and so it is a happy marriage indeed.

Playtime (1967, Jacques Tati): This is cinema. Ah! Tati, Ah! Modernity

Out 1: noli me tangere (1971, Jacques Rivette & Suzanne Schiffman): Rivette’s movies feel alive in a way that I haven’t found anywhere else. The films I’ve seen are about conspiracy, games, and the development of theatre troupes: things that exist only in our minds, and are dependant on our cooperation with others. Things get so twisted that you wonder how they’ll ever untie it all, only for the shared illusions to be revealed as a complex series of false knots. I broke my rule with this film, in choosing a film that I’ve only seen once. I didn’t make the time to revisit this or Céline et Julie vont en bateau, my other favourite Rivette film, so I went with the larger labyrinth to lose myself in.

F for Fake (1973, Orson Welles): This is Orson Welles’s most playful film. I love Welles, the personality, almost as much as I love Welles, the director, so I chose a movie that features both.

Mikey and Nicky (1976, Elaine May): Perhaps the most tense and dark comedy I’ve ever seen. May reaches her highest levels of drama here, and does so without any cost to her usual standards for humour.

It’s a Wonderful Life (1946, Frank Capra): I wasn’t sure about including this, given that it’s not even my favourite James Stewart Christmas movie, but what can I do? It’s a Wonderful Life is an institution in my family, we’ve watched this every Christmas Eve since I was grade 6. There was a year or two in the early ‘10s where we might have missed it, but, otherwise, we’ve been devout. This is also one of four sources that laid the foundation for my love of movies, and, in particular, older movies. I hope to continue to watch this every year. It just wouldn’t be Christmas. Growing up, my brothers and I used to be allowed to open one gift the night of Christmas Eve, which evolved into my brothers and I exchanging our gifts for each other. The first year my brother’s and I exchanged gifts, we happened upon CBC playing It’s a Wonderful Life in a 3-hour timeslot. Filling in the gaps of my memory with ego, I’d say that I instigated our watching it. I was always the biggest sucker for holiday specials, as well as being the most drawn to B&W. It was an instant hit with all of us, and so two traditions were born that night. For those curious as to what year this took place, I gave my oldest brother a 3 Doors Down CD. My older brother got me the Beast Wars transmetal Terrosaur figure. And. It. Freakin’. Ruled. CBC continued to air It’s a Wonderful Life every Christmas Eve, and we continued to tune in. My brothers and I continued to exchange gifts on Christmas Eve for about another decade, but now my family has a better Christmas Eve tradition to pair with our holiday movie: Chinese food, and, less dogmatically, vegetable samosas. Leftovers become brunch. We’ve watched the movie, I think, twenty times now, which includes one viewing of the unfortunate colourized version, and once in theatres. It’s a great movie to come back to each year. There are lots of little moments, lines, and details to zero in on, and each year I get to internally test and brag to myself about naming and recognizing the various character actors and bit players that pop up. Still, I sometimes find myself resisting its charms. A couple of years ago, my view of Frank Capra changed. I no longer saw him as the director I had previously thought him to be*. I wondered whether this movie stood on its own merits, or if I was holding onto it for sentimental reasons. I have since settled on this film being a genuine classic. Another source of resistance is that I’ve never watched this on its own, there’s a lack of an individual foundation to my relationship with the film. I’m so accustomed to viewing films on my own, I think there’s a relief in a taking a private experience, and having it succeed in a public forum. The two support each other, which is part of why a couple of films ended up on this list. However, when it’s a film I’ve only seen in the company of others, I become suspicious of my experience. I believe in the power of cinema when it’s to my benefit, only to doubt it when I fear that it has the power betray me. I guess that I lack faith. *The director I once thought Frank Capra was, I now find Leo McCarey to be.

Doctor Who: The Lost in Time Collection (1963-69, various): This was a last minute decision that ended on a mistake. I ought to have chosen Daleks: The Early Years instead, which has the proper framing of a retrospective documentary. Daleks: The Early Years is a VHS release hosted by Peter Davison, featuring interviews with key people from ‘60s Dalek stories, cannibalizing clips from Dalekmania (another documentary on Daleks in the ‘60s), and orphan episodes and snippets from otherwise lost ‘60s Dalek serials. It’s also one of the VHS tapes that I grew up with, and my introduction to the fact that, at the time, over 100 episodes of ‘60s Doctor Who were missing and presumed lost. This was my introduction to the concept of lost media. Since then, a further 12 episodes have been found, and the number of missing episodes has dropped to 97. Instead, I chose The Lost in Time Collection, which is a 3-disc collection of orphan episodes and surviving clips from otherwise missing ‘60s serials, not actually a feature in itself. It’s a really nice sampling of the Doctor Who’s best era, and the episodes and clips are sometimes more interesting without the rest of their serial for context. While I didn’t get this collection until I was an adult, I had managed to see most or all of its contents growing up, mostly on various VHS compilations, as well as some clips online. As the deadline for submissions approached, I chose the one I enjoy more, rather than the one that first changed me. I suspect that Doctor Who was the first work of science-fiction that I got into, as it predates me in our household. My brothers and my getting into Transformers predates my memory, but it does not predate my being around. Doctor Who also served as my first exposure to B&W viewing. I was really into science-fiction growing up, and the genre was really my first interest in older films. The interest didn’t really bridge its way from my youth into my present. Heck, I wasn’t even particularly a movie person until into my twenties. In early adulthood, after fading for a bit, my fondness for science-fiction was more directed towards video games and books. So while it didn’t lead into my love of film and B&W, it laid a lot of the groundwork for what I’d eventually come to love. My oldest brother remembers staying up late with our parents to watch Doctor Who, and my older brother has memories of trying to stay up with them, but it was no longer airing on any of the stations we had by the time I was kicking. Loved, but unseen, it developed a sort of mythic reputation in my young mind. Over the years, we managed to see a bunch of serials on VHS through our local library system, and we eventually got 5 VHS releases of our own before the decade ended. We got a book, The Doctor Who Yearbook, which had listings and synopsises of every serial ever made. The classic Doctor Who series lasted 26 seasons, consisting of 153 serials, and just shy of 700 episodes. No matter how many episodes of Doctor Who I managed to see when I was growing up, it was only ever the tip of the iceberg. My younger self liked daydreaming about all of the adventures, planets, aliens, robots, and monsters, but that would begin to dissipate with age. While I loved Star Wars for the many of the same reasons as I did Doctor Who, the advent of more Star Wars wasn’t all that fulfilling, with Episode I: Racer for the N64 PC as a noted exception. More than the fact that I was caught up in the cultural backlash against George Lucas, the lack of a well defined characters and society in the original trilogy was a virtue. The toys and books really capitalized on this. I was the kid that wanted to know every weirdo and background character’s life story. I was such a mark. The more movies they made that added to the lore, the smaller their galaxy seemed to be, in opposition to an expanded universe. Each piece promising to add to the larger picture only seemed to reveal a smaller whole. More movies telling the same stories with different versions of the same characters. A galaxy that once seemed so vast now revealed to be comprised of maybe two dozen people, many of which are related or connected to each other in some tired and unnecessary way. Eventually, I got really into Jonathan Rosenbaum, and began to project my ego all over his preferences, to which Star Wars became a victim. I gave up on the series after sitting through a showing of Episode VII. Fires subside, and, these days, I’m mostly indifferent towards the series. Undergraduates can be a bit much, y’know? While the new Doctor Who series also fell out of favour with me, it was easier for me to divorce it from the original series. Having seen the series only in disparate pieces, rather than a linear narrative may have helped. I have no illusions that the original series is anything more than a silly kid’s show that mostly takes place in corridors, which is a fine thing to be. It’s enough to be a delight. The deceit of nostalgia is that I can return to these works I once loved with the same feelings and wonder that I had as a child. While I remain fond of Doctor Who, the whole of a serial is often less than the sum of its parts. After all, being a serial, half of the adventure is meant to take place in your head during the week between episodes. It’s the opposite of binge-watch material. It’s hard to commit to working your way through such a bulky series at a deliberately slow pace. Besides, even spacing the episodes out some, it’s still not going to capture my mind the way it would when I was a child. The virtue of the Lost in Time Collection is that you’re never seeing a serial as a whole, only as individual pieces. The collection consists of 18 complete episodes from 12 serials, with clips and bits from an additional 10 serials. Only one serial has more than two episodes featured, The Daleks’ Master Plan, a 12-part epic, which has its 3 known surviving episodes on the set. Freed from the responsibilities of being part of a larger story, you get to enjoy the pleasures of each episode as its own entity. Charm exists outside of context, and what may have been stretched and strained over half a dozen episodes can easily be sustained in the single episode or two that remains. A piece of Starburst may not keep its flavour any longer than a piece of Hubba Bubba, but at least it has the decency not to overstay its welcome. The less that remains of a serial, the more interesting it becomes. For some serials, the only surviving clips are the scenes that were cut by censors, and so you’re only seeing the juiciest bits. Protected by obscurity, just as recording in B&W protected this era of the series against its lack of budget, the childlike sense of wonder remains. Any missing serial could have been great. We lack evidence to prove otherwise. What little remains from these serials is enough to imagine what may have been, and it’s easy to give the benefit of the doubt to an old friend. No longer just a science-fiction adventure, the series has grown into a larger and more engaging adventure in film & television preservation. Thanks to its cultural status and following, questions as to how these stories were lost, why years of episodes were junked, how they were returned, in which disparate places were episodes found, who has been hunting for them, what were their methods, to what lengths did they go, what places remain to be searched, what remains to be found, what’s trapped in the hands of private collectors, and what has been lost forever have all been thoroughly explored, though some answers continue to elude us. For those interested, Youtuber Josh Snares has an extensive series of videos that breaks down many of these questions as best as one can with what’s publicly known, and, despite being on yotube, I don’t think he’s annoying. Doctor Who best represents my film lover’s sense of discovery, combining the joys of hearing about a film that piques my interest, trying to track a film down, discovering or rediscovering a new favourite, learning about film history, and the efforts of film preservation. Hearing about films I’d like to see can be nearly as rewarding as actually watching the films themselves. The more that I see, the more there is that I’d like to see. The harder something is to find, the more interesting it can become. Film is a physical object, so there is a battle against time for us to discover, recover, restore, and preserve works before they’re lost to time. The good news is that many efforts are being undertaken, both by professionals and by amateurs. The advent of crowdfunding has really helped to create more opportunities for completing these endeavours. Following an Indiegogo campaign, Netflix stepped in and completed Orson Welles’s The Other Side of the Wind. Many of Marion Davies’s silent films have been restored in recent years. Thanks to the efforts of Ben Model and his team, I will soon have the pleasure of seeing eight Edward Everett Horton shorts that haven’t been in circulation since the silent era. Steve Stanchfield (Thunderbean), Jerry Beck (Cartoon Research), Tommy Stathes (Cartoons On Film), and their cohorts are doing God’s work in finding and restoring old cartoons, and giving them an audience once more. I don’t think there’s ever been a more exciting time to be so out of touch.

The Muppet Movie (1979, James Frawley): The Muppets’ movies were a staple of our household growing up, and this ranks alongside The Great Muppet Caper as the best of them. This movie has a very self-aware humour to it, exemplified by the introduction. The camera wanders through a studio backlot, following a car carrying Statler & Waldorf, who provide us with the first dialogue of the film, announcing their intent to heckle the film. Inside, the Muppets are waiting for a private screening of The Muppet Movie to begin. It’s a disaster. A monster tears out one of the seats, the visibly deranged Crazy Harry blows up another, people are dancing in the aisles, and chickens are flying about. Objects being thrown include, but are not limited to, popcorn, Lew Zealand’s boomerang fish, and paper airplanes. A full-sized Muppet looms in the background, a giant colourful bird with enormous unblinking eyes, leaning a bit from side to side. An acknowledgement that somebody has let the animals in charge of the zoo. Still, a coziness remains amidst all of the chaos. Kermit attempts to introduce the movie to his peers, the lights go down, and he takes his seat. The movie opens in the heavens, where the credits and a rainbow appear. It clears onto a long, long shot of a swamp, slowly zooming in to reveal a frog on a log, playing a banjo, singing Paul Williams and Kenneth Ascher’s The Rainbow Connection. We’re taken away. One of the most vital aspects of the Muppets is that they exist in our world, something that gets lost in their 90’s trend of literary adaptations. An entire world of Muppets isn’t much of a utopian vision, but the idea that these animals, monsters, and whatevers belong in society alongside ‘real’ people is. This trend was part of a larger regression throughout the years with the Muppets. What began as a self-aware humour turned into a self-depreciating humour, and, eventually, a self-loathing humour. The Muppets used to take on the world, but, in later years, they seemed unable to dream of anything more than getting back together once more, so that they could reaffirm their lack of success. Bring them back to life so they can take one more dying breath. This Muppet movie is filled with celebrity cameos, in part a tribute to their variety show, as well as to the vaudevillian origins of most of their shtick. Here, the cameos serve the Muppets. Later, the Muppets would take a backseat, and become vehicles for others, not even allowed to star in their own movies. I wish they were given better opportunities to shine. As good as this film is, I have to admit that this film’s treatment of Miss Piggy is embarrassingly sexist. While they don’t look like Presbyterians to me, at their best, I think the Muppets have almost as much hope to offer as any religion.

Transformers: The Movie (1986, Nelson Shin): Watching this movie gives me the feeling I always hope that I’ll feel whenever I’ve bought concert tickets. I don’t watch this so much as I sing along to it. I even knew Vince DiCola’s score down to a ‘T’. With all due respect to Storefront Hitchcock, this is my personal Stop Making Sense.

Air Alert V. 4 (late 2000’s, TMT Sports): First, and most importantly, I do not recommend Air Alert nor any other paid for vertical jump program. I cannot stress that enough. They’re not designed by people who really know what they’re doing, the marketing is predatory, they’re unjustly hard on your joints, and they’re methods are not in conjunction with their promises of wild vertical gains. While I hope to stop finding that people have also done Air Alert, I immediately feel a strong kinship with those I learn have also been misled. Air Alert is a 15-week vertical jump program that makes the dubious promises of adding 8-14 inches to yer vertical leap to everyone, regardless of their current physical condition. It promises to add explosiveness to yer hops, but its means are an exponentially increasing amount of jump exercise repetitions. This is to say that, in practice, Air Alert actually builds jumping endurance, which teaches yer muscles to conserve energy, rather than to expend it in an explosive manner. Like all jump programs, it also fails to address that much of your jumping’s height comes from a combination of your core and upper body strength, as well as technique. The version I got also came with an advertised-as-new Air Alert Advanced, a further 6 weeks of yet more intensive exercise routine to add another 3-6 inches to yer leap. I did the 15 weeks of Air Alert, and, like everybody else I’ve known, I got 2-3 inches added to my vertical. After the recovery week suggested following completion of the program, I tried dunking at the church. You had better believe that I told my dad to bring his digital camera, ’cause this was gonna be a big deal. Being able to dunk was surely going to usher in a whole new era in my life. Now, I had been wrong about these sorts of things before. I had become skinny, I got a couple of nice shirts, I listened to what I though was the right unpopular music, and I had stolen some jokes, but my life largely remained the same. It seemed as though my life couldn’t be redeemed by vanity and trivialities, J still wasn’t dating me, but this would be so much more. This was dunking. This was going to be different. We went to the church, and I had the same problems as before. I could get high enough, but I couldn’t throw down. The further you extend a limb from your core, the less strength it has at its disposal. I had little upper-body strength to begin with, and, fully extended, my hand is pretty far from my body. I’d always lose the ball on the way up, or lose height putting more of my strength onto the ball. Legs can only take you so far. At my best, I’ve brought the ball to the rim, lost it, and, thanks to momentum, had the ball go off of the backboard and in. A lay-up isn’t a dunk. My knees have been crunchy ever since. After a further month of letting my joints recover, I tried my hand at Air Alert Advanced. After the first week, which consisted of 3 days of 2000 individual jumps, some of my friends reunited to play soccer at our old high school. I was proud to see that the goals we had rescued were still on the field. However, I found that my joints were so worn down that I could only run at a steady pace in a straight line. Turning, accelerating, and decelerating were all, sadly, out of the picture. I decided not to continue onto the subsequent weeks. I was still a fatuous pauper, single, and working at a shoe store while friends had gone on to do other things, so what did I manage to accomplish? Well, for starters, I gained some athletic ability for the first time in my life, which was neat. I gained a lot of leg strength, endurance, and quickness, as well as the previously mentioned 2-3 inches to my vert, all of which I treasured. Despite being the skinniest guy on the court, my legs were strong enough to anchor me in the key, and contend with guys up to double my weight. I went from being a guy who showed up to Dunkball, to becoming a guy that people wanted on their team. While others got tired throughout the night, slowly losing their vertical, I managed to jump just as frequently and just as high in my last game of the night as I could during my first. As both the tallest and the lankiest guy at Dunkball, my height advantage now increased in the air. I’d let people box me out, only to jump and reach over them. I felt so free. I was, and remain, Dunkball’s most improved player. Of course, it helps to have the advantage of having started out lower than everybody else. Once, somebody brought a friend who was taller than me. It was awful. As for dunking? Well, I could dunk small balls at the church, if I could close my hand on them. I managed to dunk a flat soccer ball on an outdoor net at a school yard once, but I never verified its height. I could dunk at the Academy chapel with the rim fully raised, though that rim sags in the front, so I’m guessing that rim was about 9’10”. Still, that won me a game of H-O-R-S-E or two. Sometimes, when warming up for Dunkball, someone would instigate a dunk competition, and I managed to develop a trademark dunk which nobody could replicate or stomach: the underhanded dunk. Norm was the only person not to loathe it, bless his heart. While I never managed to dunk on a proper 10’ net, I was able to goaltend, which has no use outside of being a dick to a friend. I was smarmy enough to do it once. Even at Dunkball, I never became much of a dunker, except on turnovers or tip-ins, or unless I had a guard who could do the work of setting me up. I’m more opportunistic than aggressive, besides, who am I going to beat off of the dribble? On my worst nights, I was still a tall guy who could jump, so I always drew the interest of a defender. I’ve always preferred defence to offence, and my favourite offensive play is to box out their post-player, either to be in a better position to rebound, or in order to prevent them from goaltending. Defence is where Air Alert made the most difference for me. They either had to box me out in order to stop me from goaltending, or try banking it in. I could sit low enough to the ground to defend outside players without losing speed. With a lower net, some players didn’t arc their shots as much, allowing me to swat them away with ease. There was nothing better than blocking a dunk. Some people took it personally, and would try coming at you on the next play; we all loved blocking Joseph. Still, the best was blocking Norm’s dunks, even if it meant landing on my back. It was summertime, the final game of the night, with uneven teams and lopsided match-ups, but, somehow, it’s neck and neck. Not only are we still in it, we’ve had the lead. Will is shooting, Nathan is hustling, and I’m blocking everything. My greatest defensive game ends prematurely after I block one of Norm’s dunks, landing horizontally, with all of my weight squarely on my tailbone and elbows. I call it a night, and, in the morning, learned that we had lost immediately after I left. At this point, I had memorized Air Alert’s number of sets and routines, and so I lent the DVD to Graham. He promised to return it soon. This was in 2010. I learned how to juggle that August, but that didn’t save me either. I kept up my jumping exercises, doing week 4 as maintenance, losing consistency once I started university that fall. Dunkball slowly lost consistency, too, and so I eventually took up the reigns of organizing it. People changed wards, got married, moved, and started families. It was hard to motivate people to come out without a guarantee. At some point, I became one of the veterans. As Dunkball continued to lose consistency, and as I went through occasional bouts of burn-out withorganizing things, Dunkball changed from being year-round into seasons, and, later, patches, of activity. The benefit of being the one to organize Dunkball is that it allowed me to filter out the jerks between patches of activity. There aren’t a ton of rules, you can make a pass off the wall, you can charge, you can play it in the hall, and goaltending is a way of life, but life is too long to spend it with people who can’t play sports without yelling. We weren’t as athletic as we once were, but the new players were generally pretty skinny, so we were still able to push them around. I stopped buying bus passes after my first year of university, which helped me to maintain most of my leg strength. While I was in university, I managed to keep most of my vertical, but my confidence became precarious, which affected my intensity. I wasn’t soaking through my shirts anymore, I started to let people push me around. After I dropped out of university, I grew into a much more sedentary lifestyle. The leg strength I had used to define myself diminished. I’ve had a really hard coping with that. At times, the prospect of playing Dunkball felt more embarrassing than motivating. I felt lost out on the court. I didn’t feel strong enough to bump around in the key, and I felt sluggish trying to play on the outside. Still, I had now been around long enough that I was able to lead a team, if necessary. I’d hide from my refuge until I felt strong enough to return. Volunteering and winter each got me walking again. Collin organized a soccer team the summer before the pandemic, which got me running and jumping again. I felt more determined, and began to feel better. No longer trapped by where I was, or where I felt I should have been, I was content with making progress. I think that I handled the early months of the pandemic better than most people. With our usual routines in disarray, I stumbled out of the feedback loop I was caught in. Finding some self-compassion and focus, I created structure to my quarantine in order to work on some goals. I was going to come out of the quarantine dunking. I was joking this time, but I need to dream about something while exercising. Otherwise, I’m just jumping in place, staring at the door. I went through weeks 1-7 of Air Alert, ending with the rest week that marks the halfway point. After which, I returned to doing week 4 to maintain strength. With churches closed, activities cancelled, and others on lockdown, I started secretly meeting Nik on Saturdays to shoot the ball around. This was back when we were allowed to keep small circles of contacts. The benefit of having keys. The only downside was that the building didn’t have any air circulation outside of facilities management’s offices. Regarding the pandemic, our city still didn’t have any cases of community transmission. Two of us shooting the ball around became three, and soon we were playing 2-on-2. Dunkball was back, baby! Sans the titular Dunkball, which had gone missing, stolen by missionaries. I knew that it was only a matter of time before they got rid of the Academy chapel, so I was really motivated to play as much as we could while it was still safe. It took us a little bit before we managed to get six players out on the same day, and we still ended up playing 2’s some nights. We weren’t getting many guys out, but we always had good games. Everyone who came out hustled and was a solid atmosphere guy. We’d mostly play best-of-5 or 7 game series, maybe switching teams up for a final game or two. The series managed to stay pretty tight, with nobody ever reaching a dynasty. Facilities management leaves the building at 5:30, and, with nobody else around, our secret combination was free to schedule Dunkball whenever we pleased. We were playing twice some weeks. We were able to accommodate people’s schedule. Marvin, my favourite teammate, was able to come out. I hadn’t been able to play with him in years. A high percentage of our small group of players were relatively new to the game. It was really exciting to see them develop, even if Jason blocked me that one time. I had found my place again, having regained some of my leg strength and quickness. My core and upper-body strength, elusive at the best of times, had become memories, but I worked around that. My game is mostly designed with those absences in mind anyways. Consequently, my play became much more lateral, rather than vertical, after the 4th and, later, 5th game, as Collin noted. I also managed a new trick or two, like learning to bait people into banking their shot, and then blocking it off of the backboard for a quick turnover. My intensity was up, or at least the A/C was down. I was soaking through my shirts again, and I was happy. It was a hot and humid summer. I missed Jason’s birthday, so I brought some blackout chocolate banana bread to celebrate. As it turns out, a thick moist cake is not refreshing when you’re exhausted and sitting around in a hot and stuffy room you’ve spent the past 2-3 hours further heating up with yer friends. Collin became the MVP the following week when he brought a box of freezies with him. All my life, I had never seen their true worth or potential. I took them for granted in my youth, and turned my nose up at them as I grew older. Now I understood. I had Dunkball, I had friendly players who responded when I tried organizing things, we had freezies, and, as the Ward Clerk, I had convinced my Bishop that we should buy a new ball (despite the fact that playing at the Church was still verboten.) I was grateful, but I still longed for a day where we had more than 4-6 players, so that we could have subs between games. It’s nice to be able to switch up teams between games, rather than trying to push Arles all night. It’s even nicer to sit down every once in a while, especially after failing to push Arles around. Our province was still fairly safe, but that was beginning to change. Two regulars had at risk family members, and we began seeing community transmission. I planned to end what was to be the penultimate season of Dunkball after Labour Day. I was concerned what would happen once the school year started. Before then, we had eight* people come out to Dunkball one morning. Four pairs of family members, in fact. This gave us rotations between games, and a variety of playing styles, leading to more interesting match-ups and dynamics. Whoever loses would get to take a break; excitement was in the air! I questioned Collin’s choice of shoes. He reminded me that I’m solely responsible for their condition. I lend Collin my shoes. He likes the shoes, and I like his freezies. *the ideal amount is 8-9 people Shoot for teams: Graham, Collin, and I hit our shots. Collin has speed, Graham has range and strength, I have the height, and we all rebound. We win the first game easily, manage to survive the second, and win our third. Dynasty! Shoot for teams again, and I’m back on the floor with David and Marvin. David anchors the key, allowing me to cheat on defence, while Marvin generates offence and creates mismatches. We all defend. Three more wins, and it’s another dynasty! Marvin and I sit this time, and watch as Jacob (handles), Graham, and Jason (positioning) steal the game. Marvin and I go back on with Limhi, a guard heavy team playing an post-player’s game. They shoot and pass, drawing out the defence, while I set picks, prevent goaltending, and try to clean up on the boards. They cover the outside, while I guard the inside. When the other team goes to the inside, I make their post-player turn away from the net, where either Marvin or Limhi, cheating off of their man, are waiting to strip them of the ball. We win the first game, taking back the floor. They carry me through the second. Last game of the day, and the other team starts to fall apart. As per tradition, we extend the game, but only to to 15, because only Graham and I want to play to 21. We stumble as they regroup, but Jacob gets frustrated, and their chemistry falters. I assume that I’m to blame, become self-conscious, and begin calling fouls on myself whenever I make any contact with the other team. Of course, this happens on every play, because I’m trying to box out my brother. I get some weird looks as David sighs, he just wants it to be over. I get a clean stop, Limhi scores, and the day ends on a third dynasty. I remain undefeated. Freezies for everyone! That was the third to last time we played Dunkball. We had another night with six players, and ended the season with a morning of playing 2-on-2, after which we ran out of freezies. I was optimistic that we’d be back playing sometime in the New Year. We barely registered a first wave of the pandemic, but restrictions ended prematurely, and school started back up. Cases kept climbing. I was scared in October, but that was only the beginning. When we first started playing Dunkball that summer, our province was first in the country. By Christmas, we had become the worst. We began to curb the number of new cases, but restrictions were eased before hospitals finished dealing with the second wave. In May, we began transferring patients to other provinces. For some reason, the plan is to reopen in July. For some reason, a duo tried organizing ball in March. I declined. Our congregation was changing buildings, so Nik and I went over to grab some stuff. I found that our Dunkball had gone missing again, but I found the original Dunkball, which hasn’t held air since 2015, and brought it home. In April, facilities management began clearing out the Academy chapel, in anticipation of listing the building for sale. They didn’t inform our Bishop until later that week. He went over to pack anything worth keeping, only to have found that they had already junked everything belonging to our congregation, as well everything belonging to the Yazidi community group that had been meeting there prior to the pandemic. I don’t know the building’s current status. Nik and I kept our keys in the hopes of playing again, but it’s unlikely that things will be safe to go back to normal in time. Dunkball exists as a time and a place: Thursday nights after Institute class at Academy. Last fall, they moved institute classes over to the stake centre. The Academy building is being sold now, and Dunkball is over as we know it. As I previously mentioned, I lent Graham, the Gordie Howe of Dunkball, my Air Alert DVD and booklet back in 2010. For the past ten years now, he has meant to return it, only for it to slip his mind. I usually forget about it, myself, only for him to remind me when he apologizes. In the moment, I sorta feel guilty that he worries about it. I mean, it’s fine, I don’t need it. He’s put it on his desk, he’s placed it by the door, and though he’s either seen me or a member of my family at least once a week for the past decade, my copy of Air Alert still hasn’t made its way back to me. I’m not even sure that I want it back, but I appreciate his sincerity. It’s become tradition for him to maintain this false tension between us. At this point, I’d hate to see it go. What if this tension is what’s sustained our friendship throughout all these years? What if Graham’s only been coming out to Dunkball because he feels guilty? I won’t see him at Dunkball anymore, and, as of this week, he won’t be seeing me at church anymore. It’s things like this that keep us alive. I hope that Graham never returns my copy of Air Alert, but I hope that he always tries. ”There is no end to matter, There is no end to space, There is no end to Dunkball, There is no end to race.” - If You Could Hie to Kolob Dunkball, by W.W. Phelps.

I could have gone on about my legs, honestly. Now, I only included those formative texts that I’m willing to admit are still a part of me. I did not include those works whose influences I feel that I have repented of, which is why the 1967 Patterson-Gimlin footage of Bigfoot from Bluff Creek, California, The Weezer Video Capture Device, Newsies, The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny, nor anything related to Dorm Life or MST3K are not included on my ballot. In any case, I’m sorry not to have found room for Johnny Guitar.

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opalmaplehibiscus · 3 years

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Spicy Ramen, Sweet Love

*Hello Anon! And hello to everyone, I am officially back! ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ Thank you for the request! Your request wasn’t weird at all, in fact, I had a lot of fun writing it! It was honestly so cute that I would probably say that it’s my favorite request I have written ヾ(≧▽≦*)o I really hope Cater doesn’t sound OOC though and I seriously do hope you enjoy it UwU

Cater x Reader HC w/ Small Cater-Lore theories

· Despite how carefree he acts, when it comes to asking you to go on dates with him, it takes him a week to get over his initial nervousness

· He constantly worries whether you would like to go, used to using the excuse of wanting a buddy to take pictures with on magicam before the two of you started going out

· So, when he tries to ask you if you would like to go to a famous ramen restaurant and try their spicy ramen, he panics a bit on the inside, not sure if you would be up for it or not

· He quickly adds on the end that it’s totally okay if you didn’t want to go and that both of you could head to a famous bakery that’s been trending on Magicam only to freeze and gape at you when you agreed

· Cue him giving you a rare, honest yet bright smile when he looks at you in joy, happy to know that you wouldn’t mind going with him as well getting time to spend some alone time with you. After all, it doesn’t help how Ace and Deuce would constantly spy on the two of you or get in the way when he tries to hang out with the person he loves

· Like, please, ADeuce, senpai isn’t going to do anything bad to you so let him have some time with you, yeah? Give some respect to your senpai

· On the day you and Cater go onto the ramen date, he’s excited and happy

· Not only would he be eating his favorite food, he’s able to eat it with the person he loves with his whole heart and brag about it on Magicam! 3 birds with one stone!

· He takes a bunch of selfies and pictures while standing in line, posting some of them on Magicam but saving most of them in his private gallery since they included you in it

· As he does this, he would continue to check up on you, constantly chatting away with you while holding your hand so the two of you wouldn’t get separated from the crowd

· It’s easy to tell how excited he is, honest excitement radiating off of him unlike all those other times where he would put up a façade in from the rest of the students

· Yes, around you, he’s more direct and looked more relax – more like true self. However, it was often rare for him to get to enjoy what he actually like

· No worries about his image, rules, or any dorm members spying on the two of you – today is the day he’ll enjoy to the fullest!

· By the time the two of you got in and seated, Cater would be on the roll and tell you all the popular toppings and side dishes that people seemed to get the most with sparkles in his eyes.

· He also reminds you that you could order something other than the spicy ramen, only to feel touched and lucky to have you as his s/o when he hears that you wanted to order the same thing as he does because you want to get know him more

· When you giggle, he snaps out of his excitement and flusters a bit, realizing how he was chatting about the food there nonstop

· He starts apologizing for getting way too ahead of himself and seemingly ignoring his one and only s/o, but when you comfort him by telling him how happy you were to see this side of him, he ends up blushing

· Cater doesn’t even bother taking the usual number of pics when it comes to food once the two spicy ramen comes out

· One pic with the two ramens alone, one pic of a solo ramen, and one secret pic of the ramen with you in the background to remind him of the date

· Right after that, Cater starts eating the ramen and ends up sighing out of pure bliss. To think that his favorite food could taste so good – savory, salty, and especially spicy. It was totally worth the wait

· Once he gets over how good it tasted, he looks at you and asks if you had taken your first spoon yet

· Hearing the answer to be no, Cater encourages you to try it, looking at you to see your reaction to the ramen

· He may like spicy ramen but he came here because he wanted eat it with you. He wanted to share the experience of eating really good ramen since 1.he wants to spend time with you, 2.he wants to make a happy memory with you, 3. he loves you

· He didn’t bring you here just so he wouldn’t be a lone and make himself look cool on magicam

· He honestly just wants to be with you since you guys don’t get to hang out with each other a lot on campus

· School work, club activities, and Heartslabyul’s rules really prevented you two from spending time together. With the addition of your friends’ interference? Is it really too much to ask that he could hang out with you by himself?

· Like how people would want to share the things that they like on Magicam, he wants to share them with you. Of course, asking you before hand because he knew that everyone wouldn’t like the same thing even when trying something new out

· It really doesn’t help how back at home too, he’s rarely able to do the things he wanted when his sisters would force him to act in certain ways and like certain things while forcing him to do most of the house work as “the guy of the house”

· So, when he sees you eat the ramen and tell him that it tasted good, it makes him happy from the bottom of his heart

· He goes back eating the ramen while giving small comments here and there about it, not realizing the trouble you were having when eating it

· It’s when Cater is half way down his ramen that he hears the small sniffles and coughs

· Snapping his head up, his eyes widen before he gets up and slides beside you as try to wipe the tears from your eyes

· Quickly ordering milk*, he wipes your tears away with a napkin and gently pat your back, asking if you were okay

· You manage to nod and try to comfort him you were fine, that you accidentally swallowed to quickly. Yet Cater grabs both your wrists and have you face him, telling you not to lie when that wasn’t it

· He gives you a worried and hurt look, asking why you didn’t tell him that you were weak to spices

· Cater could feel his heart break a bit while in the same time warmed up when you reveal how you didn’t want to let him down or ruin the date he was obviously excited for

· To see him be so happy and wanting to continue seeing him smile from the bottom of the heart, you couldn’t bring it upon yourself to tell him

· He argues back how he told you about ordering something other than the spicy ramen since he didn’t know how well you could handle the spiciness, only to be reminded that you wanted to eat his favorite food to feel closer to him

· Cater ends up looking up and covering his now-tomato face with both hands, releasing a frustrated yet endearing sigh

· He couldn’t get himself to get mad at you when you were so cute and actually cared for him that much

· Wrappings his arms around you, he pulls you into a hug, kissing the top of your head and mumble that next time, you should tell him what your limits are so something like this won’t happen during the next date

· Keeping an arm around you, he then grabs the cup of milk that just arrived and hands it to you so you could drink it

· Afterwards, despite how much you try to persuade him not to, Cater orders the restaurant’s other famous ramen along with a side of gyoza for you

· Cater hushes you, saying how it wouldn’t be fair for him to enjoy his food when you can’t. That and he wants to spoil you for being a good s/o to him

· Once you two finish your food, he tries to treat you to dessert only for you, this time, successfully getting him not to by kissing him on the lips and say you wanted to go back to campus

· He ends up just doing that, holding your hand in his the whole entire while stealing small kisses from you either on the cheeks or lips along the way

* Note: Japanese traditional ramen restaurants don’t have individual tables but has a bar table where you sit on a bar chair and get the ramen you ordered right in front of the area they cook it. For the sake of this hc and the fact Twisted Wonderland is more western styled, the restaurant is formatted like a western restaurant. It’s also why Cater was able to order a drink from the first place because you wouldn’t be able to in a traditional ramen restaurant

#twst #twisted wonderland #hc #headcanon #cater diamond #cater x reader

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pernatius · 3 years

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Lost in Space Part 9: Ch 2

Summary: Syco and the unnamed Space Explorer question their choices

Lost in Space on Tumblr

Lost in Space on ao3

Lots of diagrams. Plenty of banter but no signs of Ashley, Mikrovos, or Skeema. In the end, though, I can’t say it was a complete waste of time. I know where they are, and I also know where Syco is in terms of his state of mind.

“I’ll look more into it.” His projected image vanishes, and the symbols that were once circling Syco float back down to the platform. Once again, it's just the two of us. His back is facing me. A purple glow is facing him. The compass, what Commander Knox was referring to before leaving the meeting, is held in Syco’s hand. It's held in his other hand, the one not ranked with death. Its symbols have yet to be translated. The two are stuck, Syco especially as he remains standing on that platform, refusing to look at me.

“I loved it. I loved the feeling. I loved the power I had. I took so many lives. I took too many lives. The Commander, he,” he sighs, and his grip loosens, “No. No, I can’t blame him. It was my fault. It was all my fault. I let my dark desires take over. That’s why I stopped. That’s why I took that oath, but I broke it.”

He shakes his head. Briefly, I see a smirk. It’s not the villainous smirk I’ve grown ill towards. It’s the type of smirk that says: “I fucked up then, and I fucked up once again.”

Continuing his monologue, “I’m trying to do what’s right. I’m trying to make up for what I’ve done. I'm trying to walk forward, but I keep walking backward. I’m trying to save lives, not end them. It’s times like these I question if this war is worth it. Have I become what I’ve grown to hate? I’m insane, but you already know that.

“I can't trust my inner circle. I can’t even trust myself. I never could. Human, you’re the only one I trust. So, please tell me, have I become the villain in this story?” Finally, he turns to face me. For once, our height difference doesn't bother me.

“We’re the villains in our stories, but there’s no such thing as justice. There’s just us and our decisions. Make one that helps us, and it hurts others. Make one that helps them, and it hurts us.”

“The universe isn’t infinite. It’s finite. It crushes, breaks. It kills life. The truth is ironic, but we’d rather believe lies. I don’t want to be like everyone else anymore. I don’t want to be me anymore. I hear and see things that aren’t really there. I don’t sleep. I can’t because they’re always nightmares. I’m restless. That’s why when we finally write ourselves in the last chapter in this story I want my story to end with you.

“I disagree with your earlier statement, though I can see where you’re coming from. There is justice in this abyss we call the universe. It’s when I find myself meeting with and gasping underneath your blade.”

Instead of a set of glowing purple eyes glaring at me from afar, hunting me for my reaction, is two sets of eyes looking at each other. Both are stiff, serious. One of them switches from looking at someone I have to call my friend, as the only way of surviving is by having friends, to her screen. “It just looks like chicken scratch to me.”

The symbols on her screen are the same ones that were written on me. I touch my chest. They’re gone now, but I imagine the red paint had rubbed onto my hand. It feels like blood. It looks like blood. I get a chill thinking about seeing the reflection of that thing from the trial onto the imaginary stroke on my hand.

It’s when I step inside the room the two finally take note of me. They look up, but Shiitakee returns to inspecting Saamuki’s screen. “Any news,” she asked.

“Yeah. How far away are we from Quadrant Forty?”

“It's about a two-hour trip, but that's a lot closer than I expected.”

“They’ll be there a while.”

“But I still can’t figure out how to access the code.”

I join Shiitakee. “What’s this about?”

“The symbols that were on you are the same ones that Sakhra painted on himself. I see the same ones whenever I glow. It’s the same one I heard The Speaker speak.”

“Are they the same as the ones on Syco’s compass? I haven’t gotten a good look at it yet.”

“Me too, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it is.”

Shiitakee cuts in, cutting out of his daze on Saamuki’e screen, “Fine, let’s say I believe you. Okay, this isn’t just some chicken scratch. Out of the millions of languages in the known universe, whoever first started this whole strange trend decided to use a language I haven’t heard about until just a few minutes ago. Why?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out, but maybe if I were to look around Quadrant Thirty-Nine’s library I could find something.”

“And how would you do that? We’re two hours away at the very least, remember? Besides, I hear it’s the most guarded place right now.”

“Also, I don’t think Syco is going to let us just get up and leave anytime soon. It’s not the best time right now,” I added.

“That's fine I wasn't planning on leaving this room. I know of a way to set foot in that library without actually setting foot." Both Shiitakee and I look at each other. Following our shrugs is Saamuki continuing with, "It's a lot of explaining. But basically..."

The way was by sending holograms of us first flying across the universe at unimaginable speeds, then swimming in miles of electric currents to eventually abruptly being smacked onto some dusty, browning tiles I pictured being cold. For the most guarded place in the universe, it sure looks abandoned. One of the lights above is flickering. It goes on and off for a minute before it completely dies. At least the other lights above, thousands of dim lights, can keep on. They shine across the jaw-dropping rows upon rows of books. Piles of them, rather than being properly organized by nuzzling against each other in bookshelves, are stacked high. Three nearly reach the roof, which I need to add this building is three stories high. All of the piles are taller than our three heights combined. Why must aliens not use bookshelves?

At the very center of the ceiling is a perfectly square window lying just behind a cage. On the other side of the window, squeezed between the nest of what I hope aren't bones, is a purpling sky. It’s twilight here.

Gleefully Saamuki whispers, “It worked.”

Footsteps are heard coming our way. I gulp.

Saamuki reminds us, “No one can see us.”

The guard’s footsteps die down as they turn and move away from us.

“Although, we have to be careful with our voices." She raises her head and looks around the library. "Sounds bounce around here quite easily.”

Shiitakee looks around before replying, “Curse me for not asking more but don’t tell me we’re actually going to look through this mess to look for a book or two we don’t even know the name of. Must I add, for a mere theory? Who knows maybe it’s just a coincidence, or maybe you’re overthinking. Maybe I was actually right for once.”

“I didn’t force you to come, Shiitakee. I asked you to come.”

“Yes, you did.”

“You can still go back.”

“That’s the thing I could. I will after a few minutes. Maybe when I can’t take this bore anymore, but it was really boring waiting for you two to come back last time.”

“Then, let’s get right into it.”

The three of us went our separate ways after promising to meet back there. Saamuki went straight, going deeper into the jungle of books. One minute she's waving bye to us. The next, she's been swallowed by the books. My other companion just turned away and flipped through the nearest book. I went right. The books here are smaller than the books Saamuki traveled into, but they’re much more portly. They’re almost five inches thick. I scan the titles. Many I find interest in, thinking they held the answers Saamuki is looking for. I find myself skimming through them, and in those brief moments, I try to figure out how to cope with how much time I wasted. I groan. Little blurry pictures. So few creative titles. Too many tiny printed words, most of which are long. I despise reading. It always makes me so sleepy, but I force myself to the next book and then to the next. I must’ve skimmed through a hundred, barely a tenth of the books around me, before my eyes become too watery to read. I reach around for another book, but I fall on my butt. Accepting my new predicament, mainly because I'm too tired to get up, I note the book is coated in just as much dust as the floor, if not more. I blow on it but soon regret it. I cough and try to hold in the noise. I try fanning away the fine particles. When they eventually blow away, I frown because I can’t read the title of this book. Maybe if I flip through the book I’ll find at least a word I can read. Nope. It’s all simply just lines, circles, and dashes to me. They have no meaning to me, but the stars above do. It’s well past midnight. We’ve been here for hours, but find ourselves no better than where we were before coming here. I sigh and lay back to look up at the ceiling.

I hope Saamuki is close to finding something. I also hope I get to see the others soon. I reach my hand up, thinking I’m somehow able to reach out to them lightyears away from where I’m laying. Then, I hear static. With a guard swinging his flashlight across my clearing, I chalk the strange sound to his shuffles even though I knew that doesn't make sense. That’s why I’m not surprised when I get the real answer. I hear a voice I haven’t heard in some time. Hearing it has me get up, get watery-eyed, and look around for the unlikely. “Skeema,” I asked quietly.

A moment. No reply. I was about to rethink my recent judgment until he finally replies, “It’s been some time, hasn’t it?”

“W-Where are you?” I look around again, thinking Skeema would pop out of nowhere with tea for us to share. Of course, that doesn’t happen. I remain alone in this crevasse in the sea of books listening to the guard walking away.

“Light years away from your location.”

“How are you talking to me?” At first, I thought I'd truly gone insane like Syco. Then, I remembered what Syco did all those weeks ago before the tournament. Although, unlike then, I don’t get to see the face behind the voice. “Right. My chip.”

“Yes.” A cough rushes out of Skeema. It sounded painful. I felt it. It’s as if my chest is collapsing in on itself.

“Are you alright, Skeema?”

“It’s nothing. Don't worry about it. I don’t have much time. Knox is planning something big. Don't come looking for us. For the time being, remain where you are.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t have the time to explain, but I’ll let you know when I can.” A blaster goes off on his side. It rings in my ears, and right after our call goes static. I try calling out his name. Nothing.

Looking up at the window, I wonder what's coming. Then, instead of getting an answer, but it’s not like I would’ve gotten one, I see a black silhouette looming over me. I get out my sword, and they just tilt their head.

#220 #lost in space #my writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr

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moonlightstars16 · 4 years

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Chapter 8 ~ Inner Voice

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The light of the warp pad lit up and soon the trio returned. Immediately Steven began to quickly stride out of the room. Connie still in his arms as she felt and heard him lowly growling, almost like an animal. His grip, even tighter than before, slightly starting to ache from the little blood flow.

"Steven?"

"Dismissed Pearl!" He spoke while bursting through the doors, the sound echoing through the rest of the castle.

"S-Steven I-I can-"

"Shut up!" Flinching slightly she gulped and bit her lip. They finally stopped when we came to a waiting room of sorts. Setting herself down on the couch before gripping a nearby chair, tossing it to the ground, letting out a loud yell as he did so. She gulped and bit her lip watching him breathe deeply and running his hands through his black curly hair. Though she was annoyed by him carrying her and the scene in the meeting before that, Connie couldn't help but feel a sort of empathy towards him. Remembering the few tears he cried from Blue's power. It was obvious he suffered a great deal.

"You were right...about the Diamonds. I shouldn't have doubted you...I'm sorry" She began, as empathy for him grew more and more. However she couldn't fathom why exactly. Especially with how he treated her. Steven's eyes shot up immediately, not expecting any sort of apology like this. With a deep sigh and eyes closed he regained a more calmer state.

"You heard him. Didn't you?" Stating less of a question and more of a statement. Connie turned her head slightly in confusion until she remembered what he meant. The voice that spoke when they were in close contact. She nodded while he opened up his suit jacket, unbuttoned his vest and shirt. 'What. The. F-' Just enough to reveal a hidden gem embedded in his abdomen. Around it was patches of pinkish red scales against his skin. "He was the one communicating with you."

"I-I don't understand-"

"Of course you don't" He said harshly, adjusting his clothing before looking back up at her. Closing his eyes briefly he breathed a deep sigh. Calming his tone to something more gentler. "This gem belonged to my mother, now it's mine. And so formed half of myself. Sort of like my other half so to speak. We co-exist together, in ways he's still me. Two halves of one full person." Connie blinked, trying to grasp what he was saying. Learning a bit of this from Pearl under the "forbidden rules" of gem-kind.'Talk about Jekyll and Hyde. ...And over explaining a tad. How can he be explaining and yet still make it sound confusing.' Running her hand through her hair, she cleared her throat.

"So are you two a fusion?" He laughed for a brief moment before shaking his head.

"I see you've learned much from Pearls teachings. However you are mistaken. For fusion to work you need two full gems- two complete beings in order to fuse. Not two halves like he and I." He paused before looking at the lit fireplace. "You heard him because when you touched my gem, he connected with you."

"You mean when you grabbed your pet back there?" Her bitter tone apparent, standing up, as her brows furrowed and hands formed fists at her sides. Though she did feel his gem (through the fabric separating them) when she was pressed up against him. It wasn't hard to miss, however not uncomfortable.

"I only did that, for you're protection."

"My protection?" Steven rolled his eyes and faced Connie completely, his cape swishing behind him for a moment.

"You're not an idiot, Connie. You heard the implying dislike of you being a member of my court from White's tone. To her you had no purpose, deal or not humans serve no function in there world." His words suddenly gained much more depth. He wasn't doing it out of spite, but to make sure she wasn't...disposed of. Appearing that his words affected her, he continued. "You have done well for the first meeting." Connie was surprised by his sudden compliment, nodding her head quickly when she realized the silence went on for too long.

"Thank you" Walking to her side he gently touched her cheek. Connie inhaled sharply as they froze momentarily while he put his hand down.

"It was a miracle she didn't harm you." His words spoke volumes as the closeness between them became more and more apparent. Then putting a hand behind her head and waist, he pulled her close. Stroking her hair as she felt her head and hands and rest upon his chest. Her arms enveloped between his. Confusion blurred the lines of what she already knew about him. He had blood on his hands... Murderous blood! And yet there he was willing to give it all up for humanity- no for her? His actions were conflicting as much as what she felt for him.

"Bring him back to the light...."

Suddenly he let go, backing up a tad, gripping his gem slightly bending over in pain. The glow coming from his gem was evident. Connie also heard the voice, but for now it wasn't important as the apparent pain he was feeling. Stepping towards him she was about to lay her hand upon his shoulder.

"No...!" He said gripping her wrist slightly, though not as tight. Hearing her gasp from the shock. He then saw what he had done and slid his hand down into hers. Shaking slightly from being in pain. "Leave...me..." She wanted to ask more, wanting to help him. But this seemed much deeper than a gem problem. No matter his past actions, she couldn't leave his side like this.

"You're in pain-"

"I'm fine!" He shouted at her whilst letting go. Catching her gaze his eyes bore into hers as if begging for her to comply. Connie never saw this side of him before. Nodding she backed away, heading towards the entrance. Once the door shut behind her, she leaned against it and slid to the floor. Thinking about what she had just heard and witnessed. 'If what he is saying is true....could it be that he's crying out for help? His gem half is still a part of himself.' She then remembered the look in his eyes before he hugged her...before she left. 'Those pleading eyes....'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night Steven sat in his chair right in front of the fireplace. His mask laying on the small table beside him. His eyes watching the flames dance before him; rubbing his temple as his inner self, his gem side, raged war beneath the surface.

'You're beginning to like her more than you think.'

'Shut up!'

'She can help us, bring both of us out of despair.'

'We are perfectly fine!'

'No we are not'

Flashes of blood upon his hands haunted his memories. They we're prominent in his nightmares no matter how much he tried to repress it. Once again they came as he groaned in frustration, trying to make it stop and failing to do so.

A beam of white pure light aimed for him as he was paralyzed in fear. Suddenly the image of one fused gem, from a Sapphire and a Ruby, jumped right in front of his line of vision. He barley had time to call out before it hit her. She cried out in pain, her visors vanished as her three eyes looked at Steven with love and sadness.

"Garnet!!!!!" he cried out but it was too late. Suddenly a hit to the back of his head caused him to see nothing but darkness. When he came too, he was in a bed of sorts, and standing next to it, a certain heart-shaped gem.

"S-Spinel...w-what happened?" her eyes were downcast as she revealed two...shattered gems of a Sapphire and Ruby. Steven gasped and began to cry out in pain. Spinel pulled him close and held him as he continued to cry out in pain. Once he had physically stopped from dehydration, Spinel gave him a small glass vile filled with a green liquid.

"Shh, here this will return your strength. You will need it soon I promise." Without any hesitation he shakingly took the glass vile, lifting it to his lips and drank every last drop. The room began to spin as Spinel began to sing softly, running her fingers through his hair, as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Steven reached up and touched his huge scar, as the vision of White making him bleed for the first time right before he let Garnet... Then the beast from his past appeared. The images where too much to bear as he began to scratch his scar. His hands, normally covered by gloves, bore a similar corrupted scaly pattern with fingernails sharp and black. He scratched so much until fresh blood appeared.

'STOP! We can fight this!'

'The Pain...it's too much!'

'I know! I can feel it too! But we can't do this anymore! We have to let her help us...'

Soon he slowed down to a stop and took his hand away from his face. Seeing the blood drop from his fingers down to his skin.

"Oh Steven, you hurt yourself again huh?" Spinel's voice spoke as she stepped out of the shadows with a tray of the same elixir from his memory. The look in Steven's eyes conveyed almost no emotion as fresh blood dripped from the side of his face.

'Don't. Drink. That.'

'I- I need it....'

'NO we don't!'

Spinel put the tray down next to his mask. Letting him grab the drink as he downed it all. While she got a wash cloth and a bowl of water to clean his wounds.

'NO!!! Please! I can't take it-'

But it was too late as the elixir took it's affect and silencing the gem within himself. Spinel by his side cleaning up the blood that spilt from his face.

"There there, all cleaned up, now how about we take that anger and use it against some one else, oh say perhaps the human zoo?" Her suggestive and manipulative tone were strong and evident in her voice. But he knew the games she was playing. Even if he was in this state.

"Nice try Spinel" he spoke making her smirk disappear. "Now leave me alone before I call lion upon you." Sighing she got up and did so, still the elixir she gave him had weakened his powers considerably, it wouldn't be long before the Diamonds would realize that she is stronger than him and more deserving of being a ruler and not a toy.

After all, her gem is a perfect cut and in this world, perfection matters. Besides he couldn't resist his hidden desires for long. Each little dose was another step in bringing his true self out. Tonight was the final push over the fine line of an edge he walked. Smirking she walked out. hid amongst the shadows and awaited with baited breath.

'The truth from within you will come out... you'll remind yourself just how much of a monster you are.'

Steven groaned in pain as he walked towards his bed. A more comfortable position to be in than the chair. No matter the pain, he had a bet to win. He wasn't going to go down without a fight. But then his nightmares began again.

~~~~~~~~

A scream...a plea for help....a yearning for freedom......

Steven heard it all and yet couldn't care less. I'm fact caring was hardly in his veins. Not even a hint of mercy was there as he raised the weapon in hand. Watching and listening to the sweet sounds of a cracked whip. Unfortunately, gems don't bleed.

But humans do.

Lion couldn't have all the fun now right? That would be selfish of him. Especially since he wanted so much to see the suffering in their eyes. Drops trickled down skin into a pool on the cold stone floor. The site of blood is what he craved, and yet despised at the same time. It was almost as if he was a vampire. He certainly had the sharp fangs, well more monstrous than vampiric, yet he wasn't dead. Nor had the power to actually suck blood among other things. However the matter he loved it all.

A few strides closer, biting his glove and pulling out his beastly hand, he scraped the back with his index, middle and ring finger. Bringing it up to lick against his contradicting tongue. You see he can control his healing powers. But if he could heal, he certainly can destroy.

The smirk of ecstasy he felt when the taste of blood flooded his senses. He took sharp and deep breaths, smirking as he listening to the whimpers and painful moans of his victim. The sounds were glorious.

Chuckling darkly, he stepped back and raised his whip once again. Only stopping briefly in between so his victim couldn't be numb to it. Red was all he saw, red was all he desired to see. His victim spewed blood from his mouth, scratches became gashes and consciousnesses was something lost.

Was there a bet he desired to win? Oh yes of course. But where was the fun in breaking the rules a little? Besides this human was already here, it didn't count. At least not to him.

But Steven didn't care, all he saw was the blood. All he saw was his desires unfold before his eyes. After awhile he let the whip drop to the floor, seeing that the victim was nearing death. 'Oh we can't have that now can we.' So with a smirk he licked his hand, pressed it against the poor human and watched as they were revived like new.

Only to restart his sick game.

Over and over

And why stop there? For a gem their fate wasn't so satisfying to watch, but he craved it all. Picking up a few amethyst gems from the human zoo, he began to squeeze them. Tighter and tighter, hearing the cracks brush against the shards until they snapped like a rope. Steven began to laugh, inwardly until it became louder and louder.

Maniacal and full of twisted joy. No longer was he feeling the emotions of man, but a beast. The scars of his past grew more and more around him as he blacked out. Eyes shining and a full on red glow surrounded his aura. Not reddish-pink, not pink, red like the blood of his victims.

Hours passed, blood washed away from his hands, and a hungover type feeling rang in his head. Aimlessly wandering the halls as if the past few minutes were blacking out of his mind. Looking down he saw the scars, of what appeared to be gem shards and a whip handle, on his uncovered hand. Quickly putting his gloves back on before anyone could see. Not wanting to relive the shame White forced down his soul.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Early the next morning, Connie was awoken by a loud roar outside her balcony double door window. Looking out towards the window she gasped upon seeing Steven's head lion. Gulping she froze not knowing what to do. Lion tilted his head and soon pawed at the doors making it wiggle and squeak. Connie couldn't help but be amused at the situation. 'Why your just like a cat aren't you?' she thought giggling. Deciding against fear to open the door. Lion almost knocked her down as he licked her face. A much friendlier look than he had previously shown. Laughing she gently pushed him away.

"Okay okay boy down." Lion then walked away and came back with clothes in his mouth. A blouse, a corset/bustier that is worn over a top, leggings and a midsize skirt along with knee length boots(and socks). 'So your a lion with fashion sense.... Why am I not surprised?' He dropped them in front of her then nudged it closer with his nose. The begging look in his eyes made her sigh and laugh. "Okay okay, since you are such a fashion expert." she whispered a bit more knowing others would be asleep. Going into the bathroom she quickly changed and stepped out. Lion then gestured for her to get on his back.

"Where are we going?" Lion growled in annoyance than fear. "Okay geeze hold in a minute Mr grumpy" she said sighing climbing onto him and gently grasping his mane. "Now where are we going?" Lion pushed the door open and began to walk down the halls until he reached another more hidden in the shadows door. When they went through and the door slammed shut, Lion began to leap down the winding staircase. Connie yelped and leaned forward trying to keep her balance.

Soon they found themselves in a large room filled with lit candles. The light revealed some sort of hidden armory filled with weapons. Some which hung on the walls looking worn down from battles long ago. As she looked around a faint sound of clashing swords and someone grunting echoed from a large room. As they hid behind pillars and shadows, she gasped before quickly covering her mouth at the site.

Pearl was dueling a hologram of herself. Her battle moves were strong yet elegant as she came head to head with her opponent. She left no room for anyone to take her down(which only confirmed she was doing it with the purple gem, Amethyst, on purpose). Once again she was mesmerized by her sword-fighting. Her stamina, strength and intelligence to outwit her opponent was beyond any level of skill Connie had ever seen before.

She got off Lion to get an even closer look amidst the shadows, still behind a pillar. Her eyes glued to the duel that commenced. It was as if she was apart of a great battle from long ago. The ghost of a great warrior seemed to have overtaken her. Her look and body posture so intense and focused. Soon she swung her sword as it pierced her hologram self, watching as it lowered the sword in hand.

"Defeat accepted! Do you wish to battle again?" Pearl removed the sword, taking deep breaths before shaking her head.

"Not today"

"Very well then" with that she was gone leaving just the real Pearl alone.

"You can come out now Connie." She gulped and stepped out of the shadows facing her with a mixture of guilt and wonder.

"How did you know it was me?"

"I can tell by how you were breathing." She said before putting her sword in her scabbard. "I see a certain lion has brought you here?" one glance at lion made him blink and then put his head down slightly in shame; though he still tried to look fierce(and failing since he only looked really annoyed).

"He didn't mean any harm." Connie defended as Lion stepped out beside her nudging her arm. Making her gently pet his mane.

"I know, he does things like this from time to time." Gentling her voice as she recalled some not so nice memories. "It's his way of coping from obeying Steven's orders... Before the incident Steven endured, he and lion were almost inseparable. Like trying to redeem himself from the horrible things he has to do..." Connie's heart sank and hugged lion tight.

"What incident?" Pearl snapped out of it immediately upon hearing her question. Shaking her head out of her daze.

"It's...in the past..." waving her hand she cleared her throat and stood up straighter. "Now you know where I train. I imagine you must have a lot of questions." Connie nodded eagerly, wanting to know more as her curiosity sprang back up. "Well it's a long story but in short, thousands of years ago, I was apart of a the great gem war that began era two. Which was on earth so I knew how to sense the difference between gems and humans. hence why I was able to know it was you behind the pillar."

She paused before continuing while looking around the room. "I suppose I continue to train like I do for sentimental reasons. My way from coping from the war and what happened after...." Painful memories and tears formed in her eyes threatening to spill. She blinked them away and took a deep breathe felling the handle of her sword against her fingers. "Now you know why I do this."

"Could you teach me?" Connie asked with a hope in her voice. Pearl shot her head straight up as she looked at her.

"You want me to do what?! Why?"

"Listen, Pearl I'm so sorry of what you had to go through. I can never understand that kind of pain." She paused in a way to give silent respect before continuing. "But you have an amazing skill! I've never seen anyone so talented in this than you, well anyone that is real."

"Well thank you, Connie, but I still don't see why-"

"Pearl, I'm light years away from home. In a place where I am quite literally out of my element and while I can learn all about this world; if I don't have a way to defend myself, then I'm a sitting duck!" She then lowered her voice. "I know I can handle myself Pearl. I can do this. If you became my teacher I can do more than just take notes. I can show I have a purpose in Steven's court. That I'm worth more than what they think. If I am supposed to be representing for Earth, I have to show that I'm willing to defend it! It's still my home after all. I want to protect it until it's final moments, with all my heart. And be there to defend humanity as we move to a new era for us. Please, let me prove it to you."

With a smile and tears filling her eyes, and one hand over her chest, the other wiping away her tears that had fallen from her touching declaration and desire to help. Sighing she pulled out another sword and scabbard, handing it to Connie. Just a temporary fix to see if she can really hold up to her word. If so she, then she will be on her way to earning her own sword. She accepted eagerly as she attached the scabbard to her body.

"Show me your potential in your actions. Prove your worth." With that said Connie's eyes transformed into a determined look as she faintly remembered her fencing lessons. Pearl looked her over and smirked slightly. There it was. The untapped, yet undisciplined potential.

"Good but remember everything begins with your stance"

#shatteredbloodsufau #evil steven #steven universe #connie maheswaran #steven universe future #steven and connie #stevenxconnie #connverse #fanfic #au #garnet #amethyst #pearl #greg universe #spinel #the diamonds #pink diamond #pink steven

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bensakindofmagic · 5 years

Text

Chapter Eight

Warnings: swears, smoking (which is real bad kiddos, but I couldn’t help it, it looks so sexy)

A/N: we’re back to some good ol’ fashioned ben content here folks, and it’s all unrequited fluff (that is a term i have coined, feel free to use it, i think it’s perfect).

w/c: 3.5k+

Chapter Eight

The next week went by in a blur. You were filming the Japan tour, which made you hellishly busy. Having so many extras in one room, along with all the lights and sound tech, kept you on your toes constantly. You hung out with the guys when you could but often you were called away the second you sat down. You would always groan and roll your eyes exaggeratedly, but part of you was glad for the work. It kept your mind off everything. Ending things with Matteo, even though they had been so short-lived, weighed heavily on you. It brought all the memories of the first time tumbling back in like a crack in a dam, and the effort of not getting sucked under the waves was exhausting. On top of it all, the lack of any possibility with Matty sent your mind reeling back to Ben, and it didn’t help that he looked so fucking good in the costume. That white, fringed waistcoat had you all but drooling, and kept finding yourself staring at the necklaces that fell against his chest, bouncing softly with the rhythm of his drumming. After all the emotional turmoil of the last week you were exactly where you started, with an inappropriate crush on a colleague, only now you had the trauma of a past heartbreak woven in. Great.

On the plus side, Josh seemed to finally be getting the hint and leaving you alone to do your job, even if he was a little sulky with you.

“Y/N, can you come help us for a second,” you heard Joe call, as they waited around for Rami to sort something out with Polly.

“What d'you need?” you asked when you reached them.

“We have a very important question we need your considerable expertise to answer,” he continued.

“Does this top make me look more like a dove or an albatross?” Gwil asked with absolute solemnity. You had to smile to yourself at their blatant efforts to spend time with you.

“Oh, for sure an albatross, you’re far to big to be a dove,” you confirmed, mimicking his tone. Joe gave a triumphant, “I knew it.”

“But I’m so graceful! Albatrosses are such lanky things,” he pouted.

“Um, I believe the plural is albatroi,” Joe teased with mock snobbishness.

You smirked, ignoring him and turned to Gwil, “I think they’ve very majestic. Just because something is big it doesn’t make it less beautiful,” you cooed, standing up on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. You turned to leave but as you did Joe moaned, “Where are you going?”

Before you could respond with a sarcastic, “To do my job”, he complained, “We’ve barely seen you this week, we miss you, Y/N.”

Ben piped up for the first time, “Are you really so busy that you can’t have a conversation with us?”

You felt guilt washing over you as you met their eyes, the three of them looking at you like abandoned puppies, desperate for attention.

“I’m sorry guys, I’ve just had a lot on my plate the past few days.”

“Exactly, that’s why you should be hanging out with us, your friends, to take your mind off it all.”

“It’s not like I don’t have any work to do,” you defended.

“Not in the evenings! You keep blowing us off.”

“Next time, I promise.”

“Tonight, my place,” Ben said assuredly, like he wouldn’t take no for an answer. For a moment you were distracted by a trickle of sweat running down the hollow where his collarbones met. “I live not far from here, we can get in some beers and snacks, have a chill one. Most of us don’t have to be in tomorrow.” Only Rami was due on set the next day.

You nodded, knowing full well that there would be no getting out of it even if you wanted to, but the thought of spending a night with the boys was actually quite a comfort. I would be good to relax and let loose a bit, have some fun.

“Okay, tonight.”

Nervous energy infected Ben for the rest of the day. He was exited to spend time with you again, especially outside of work. You’d been distant, and he missed your tenacity, your unbridled excitement to work, to be part of the family that was celebrating something so wonderful. He missed the way you had always showed up to work grinning, infecting the rest of them with your enthusiasm. As much as it pained him to see you so deflated, he couldn’t deny his relief when you’d told them about breaking things off with Matteo. It made him finally realise that he had to do something about his feelings for you, even if you rejected him; he couldn’t keep pining after you, wishing something would happen between you but never trying to make that a reality. He couldn’t risk seeing you with someone else again, at least not without telling you how he felt. If you met someone else and he lost his chance he’d never forgive himself.

As he let you all into his apartment he thanked God that he’d recently cleaned. Lucy had been invited along too, and arrived soon after you guys got there from set. She’d only done a few days with everyone but she was already fitting effortlessly into the group. And you could see they way she and Rami looked at each other, even if they couldn’t yet. You looked around Ben’s place, a little nervous at the intimacy of it — being in his home, his private space. The front door opened to an open-plan living room and kitchen with a large island separating them, and a couple of sofas clustered round the TV. The corridor led to two other others rooms, you presumed the master bedroom and a guest room, and the bathroom. The decor was minimalistic, mostly white and grey with some bright green notes from a couple of houseplants, but there was a ruggedness to it, like a layer of venire was hiding something more unkempt. It looked like him.

You noticed a couple of dog bowls in the corner of the kitchen. “You didn’t tell me you have a dog!” you squealed.

“Yeah Frankie, she’s a beagle. My parents are looking after her while I’m filming.” He showed you a picture of him with a very young looking puppy laying in his arms. He seemed so soft in his hoodie with his tousled hair, as he looked down at the little pup, holding one of her paws affectionally between his fingers. What a precious dad.

“That’s adorable.” You were talking about Frankie, of course. Ben didn’t need to know that you really meant him.

“Who wants a cold beer?” he called, taking cans out of the fridge and restocking it with the ones you had bought on the way there. The chucked one to you, which you caught and tapped the top to get rid of the bubbles. While the others opened their drinks and made themselves comfortable on the sofas, you instinctively went to the cupboards to help.

“You can sit down, you know,” Ben said, glancing you over his shoulder.

“I know,” you shrugged, “Where do you keep your bowls?”

He motioned to a cupboard and you got a couple out to serve the snacks in.

“I thought I was supposed to be hosting.”

“Everyone can use an extra pair of hands,” you smiled, popping a peanut into your mouth.

“Chuck me one of those,” he said, so you did. He tried to catch it in his mouth but it hit his chin and bounced onto the floor. You giggled, “Here, try agin.” The second time he caught it and grinned widely, “Nailed it.”

“Dream team.”

You started to make your way over to the others, hands full with snacks.

“Bring my beer with you when you sit down, will you?”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied.

You were sat on the floor beside Ben’s legs due to the lack of sofa space. You didn’t mind, Rami and Lucy were curled up together on the smaller sofa (apparently they did know it, because they could barely keep their hands off each other), Gwil was on the armchair, and Joe and Ben were on the bigger sofa. You could have squeezed on but you were more comfortable on the floor, your legs curled up to your side, leaning ever so slightly against Ben’s calf.

“Okay, so who would win in a fight between Freddie and Lady Gaga?” joked Joe.

“Excuse me, why on earth would they be fighting?” you interjected with incredulity.

“Hypothetically,” he said rolling eye eyes emphatically.

“Hypothetically, they would hug and fangirl over each other and probably sing a beautiful duet in perfect harmony.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he relented.

“I’ve got one,” you said, shifting your weight, “who would win in a fight between John Deacon and Eugene Sledge?”

“Ooph, that’s a tough one,” Joe hesitated.

“Sledge, surely,” Ben reasoned, “he’s a trained marine.”

“Yeah but Deacy is scrappy, I think he could hold his own,” you hummed.

“Okay, what about Angel versus Roger,” Joe offered.

Ben grunted, “That’s not fair, Angel has superpower wings.”

“Rog v. Walter?” you suggested.

Gwil roused from his sleepy silence, “Who’s Walter?”

“From Woman in White.”

“You watched that?” Ben muttered, looking down at you with mild astonishment.

“Mmm,” you hummed affirmatively. “You look good in period costume. I particularly love the sideburns,” you joked.

“Oh fuck off,” he nudged your arm with his knee. You giggled, but the image of Ben in those baggy white linen shirts lingered in your mind’s eye.

“Gwil, wake up,” Joe scolded, throwing a bottle top at the welshman. It hit him in the face and he jolted upright. “Sorry, the beer’s making me drowsy.”

“Let’s put some music on,” you proposed, and Ben motioned to his speaker, inviting you to play something.

You played Dancing With Myself by Billy Idol, and instantly started to sway your hips to the drum beat, letting the rhythm travel up your body once the guitar came in.

“Excellent choice Y/N,” Joe praised, tapping his foot appreciatively.

True to the lyrics, you danced around the middle of the room, kicking your feet and unapologetically enjoying yourself. Before long Rami and Lucy got up too, and shimmied around together, laughing adorably as they tried not to step on each other’s feet.

You glanced at Ben, only to see he was already watching you. You beamed, shaking your hair out and you pointed at him, “Get up here, Hardy.” He shook his head with a laugh, but you weren’t having it. The beers had loosened your inhibitions and you wanted to dance with him, so that’s what you were going to do. You leant down, still swinging your hips and grabbed his hand, taking his beer and putting it on the table. You pulled him to his feet and purred, “Dance with me.”

“I’m a terrible dancer,” he whined, but you didn’t care. You pulled his body close to yours and let your hips loose. You ran your hands through your hair, letting hang down over your shoulders, and bopped your head to the beat. Shimmying round in circles, and pulling Ben along with you when he got too static, you laughed and smiled, letting your heart soar for the first time in weeks.

“You look happy,” Ben murmured.

You smiled, “You said that’s what I deserve, right? Someone who makes me happy?”

“Right,” a wistful smiled pulled at his mouth. Bright green met your eyes and confidence seemed to flash there as he said, “Who made you this happy?”

A grin split your face, and you tugged at your lip with your teeth. “Me,” you beamed and rushed to play Good as Hell by Lizzo. That song was exactly what you needed, and you belted along, tossing your hair and grinding your hips unashamedly. You watched Ben over your shoulder and smirked at the look of awe and hunger painted over his features. Seducing him would of course be a terrible idea, and you definitely weren’t trying to, but you couldn’t help but shimmy a little harder when you saw him watching. In the end though you were dancing for yourself.

When the song ended you were sweating and decided you needed some air.

“I’ve got a balcony, here I’ll come with you,” Ben said after you had inquired.

You followed him, grabbing your beer as you went. You shut the door behind you and sucked in the cool November air. It was crisp, a welcome refresher. You took a sip of your drink and watched as Ben pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. He slipped one into his mouth and, raising an eyebrow to you, offered you one.

You nodded, “Cheers,” and leaned in towards the lighter he held up. Puffing lightly, you watched the flame dance in the moonlight. With the cigarette lit you inhaled deeply, letting the tobacco burn your throat a little and the nicotine make you lightheaded.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” Ben mused as lit his. The way he sucked in his cheeks, the cigarette dangling from his lips, had you all but dripping with desire.

“I don’t,” you responded, “But I went to uni.”

He nodded, understanding the implication, “I’m trying to cut down. Smoking kills and all that.”

You simpered, “It just looks so damn sexy though.”

“Right?” he chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his throat. He raised his hand to his mouth to inhale, lifting his chin and extending his bottom lip as he did. Your eyes skimmed over the veins in his hand, protruding like a Renaissance sculpture. You licked your lips and took a drag.

“So tell me Benjamin, how’s it going with this crush of yours?” you pried, “You know, you still haven’t told me who she is. Assuming it is a she, of course.”

He scoffed and shook his head, “It’s a she.”

“You laugh but it could very easily have been Joe,” you giggled. Ben just took another drag, and looked out over the city below.

You persisted, “The fact that you haven’t told me who she is makes me think I must know her.”

Still he refused to look at you, so you nudged him with your elbow.

“You could say that,” he mumbled. Triumph and envy swelled in you in equal measure. “I’m still not telling you who she is.”

“You told her how you feel yet?” He shook his head, dejected.

“What are you waiting for?” you asked with genuine curiosity.

“A sign she likes me back.”

“Ben, how could she not? Have you looked at yourself lately?” you said, incredulous. He gave a bitter laugh. “I mean it Ben, seriously. You’re kind, and smart, and passionate. I’ve seen your capacity for love, I can see it in your face when you talk about her, and she would be so lucky to be loved by you. Whoever she is.”

Smoking the last of your cigarette in silence, you looked up at the cloudless night sky, and admired the stars. You shivered as the bitter chill infected your skin.

“You cold?”

“It’s my own fault,” you shook your head, “I should have brought a jacket.” He unzipped his hoodie and shrugged it off, offering it to you. You took it gratefully and hugged it around your body, letting the heat still held in the fabric from Ben’s body envelop you. He rubbed his hands up and down your arms to warm you further, his biceps tightening where they emerged from the sleeves of his tshirt, and the veins in his forearms swelling.

You hummed, “Thanks,” and met his eyes. They glistened, pupils blown in the dark, streetlights reflecting like constellations. There was something twinkling in them, something tender and inviting; you wanted to swim in them.

“You’ve got goosebumps,” you breathed, looking from his bare flesh to his face through your lashes.

“I’m okay,” he murmured. Little you knew, the bumps on his skin were as much from the cold as his proximity to you and the way you looked at him.

You unwrapped the jumper from around you and took a step towards him, leading his arms to wrap around your waist and then pulled it closed behind him. He shivered infinitesimally from your heat. Every inch of your torso was pressed against his, muscular arms pulling you so tight, but still you didn’t feel close enough. You let your head rest against his chest, feeling it rise and fall with his deep, steady breaths. You inhaled the scent of him, natural and elemental, like a forest after rain. It was a forest you wanted to get lost in. A contented hum resounded somewhere deep in your chest and the vibrations of your body syncopated with his. Your eyes drifted shut and you succumbed to him, allowing him to infuse into your senses.

“You know,” he cooed, you could hear the smile in his voice, “We could go inside.”

“Not yet.”

You stayed like that for a little while, indulging your desire for intimacy, until the chill penetrated and you shivered. You followed Ben back inside, and when you offered him his jumper back he declined, saying, “Keep it on, it looks good on you.”

Your cheeks flushed discreetly. He took his seat on the sofa and you settled yourself beside him, squeezing into the gap between him and Joe.

“What have you lot been gossiping about then?” you said as you tucked your legs beneath you.

“That guy Josh who kept hitting on you,” Rami explained.

“That must have been horrible, Y/N,” Lucy gushed sympathetically.

“It’s okay, I think he got the message eventually.”

“How come you said no? Just cause you work together?” Gwil questioned.

You shrugged, “I mean I wasn’t attracted to him, but working together basically put paid to it from the start.”

“Would you ever break the rule?” Joe asked.

You had to stop yourself from glancing at Ben, but the urge was instinctive. “If had an absolute guarantee that it wouldn’t come back to bite me then sure, but no one can guarantee that.”

“What do you mean, ‘come back to bite you’?”

“Say I slept with you Joe,” you ignored his self-satisfied smirk, “and maybe one of us developed feelings for the other, or it got awkward between us, or we fell out, that could cost me my job and my reputation.”

“Oh come on, you wouldn’t get fired for hurt feelings,” he scoffed.

“No Joe, you wouldn’t get fired for hurt feelings, I very much could. I’m expendable. If you kicked off and it damaged the on-set environment, the easiest way to solve that problem is to remove one of us, and it sure as hell won’t be you that gets sacked.”

The guys seemed shocked: they had clearly never thought of it from the perspective of those on the other side of the camera.

“Surely they wouldn’t just fire you though?” Gwil reasoned.

You scoffed, “Producers like quick, easy solutions. Firing me and hiring one of the hundreds of people who would cut off their arm for this job is quick and easy. Believe me, they would.”

“You’re not expendable, Y/N,” Ben asserted. You opened your mouth to retaliate, but he cut you off, “You’re amazing at your job, I’ve never felt so at home on set and that’s down to you. You understand people, you know how to get the best out of everyone. I wouldn’t be surprised if this film collapsed without you.”

You smiled bashfully, a little embarrassed but warmed by his words. “Thanks, Ben,” you breathed.

“Okay, so if there was one person you’d break the rule for, who would it be?” Joe pressed.

Ben’s name danced on your tongue. “Oh Hardy, for sure,” you smirked at the look on Joe’s face, “Tom, that is.”

“Tom Hardy?”

“Yeah, I’m really into the whole rugged bad boy thing,” you grinned. You looked pointedly at Ben who ran his tongue over his teeth under pursed lips.

You chatted aimlessly for a while, until Rami and Lucy made their excuses as they both had to be on set the next day. The scene featured just the two of them and only required a limited crew, so you’d been allowed the day off. However, you, Ben, Gwil, and Joe stayed up for hours, talking about everything and nothing. Despite the extra space you stayed curled up with Ben, at one point you laid your legs horizontally over his, and his hand rested easily just below your knee. You were vaguely aware of Joe and Gwil eyeing the effortless propinquity between you, but you didn’t care. A welcome, carefree contentedness had settled in you, and for the first time since Ben had tumbled drunk into your trailer so long ago you let yourself feel the way you did, and it set you free. Your feelings for Ben weren’t going to disappear straight away, so until they did you would just have to feel them, along with the inevitable longing that accompanied them when you reminded yourself that you couldn’t have him. But eventually they would pass, and you would move on.

tags: @anikatcmh @queen-turtle-boiii @orchideax @rogerspoison @my5secondsofneverland @mrsmazzello @ixchel-9275 @radiob-l-a-hblah @devin-marie @luvborhap @mercurycrowley @spaghetittiesbcimgay @valeriecarolinaw @saint-hardy @caborhapch @stephanie-everlasting @coldmuffinpartycloud @drowse13

(let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!)

#kind of magic series #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fanfiction #roger taylor #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bohemian rapsody movie #bohemian rhapsody fan fiction #queen #joe mazzello #gwilym lee #rami malek #lucy boynton #fluff #friends to lovers

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cilldaracailin · 4 years

Text

A Kind Of Magic

Thanks for all the lovely love. Here is the next part :)

“Never underestimate the lingering effects of a dash of spontaneous comfort.”

The first thing Taron did once Robyn left, was change out of his heavy jeans into a clean pair of shorts that Robyn had washed for him the previous day, the smell of fabric softener light and delicate. She had left his clothes folded neatly on one of the empty shelves in her closet, ready for when he needed them. He walked bare foot into the kitchen and next he made himself another cup of coffee and carefully sat in the corner of the couch.

“Hey Alexa, play Joni Mitchell.”

After a few seconds, the music started and Taron closed his eyes, inhaling the fresh scent of coffee, enjoying the cool breeze from the air conditioning. It was utter heaven for Taron, peace beyond explanation. It was very rare for him to have moments like this where he knew no one was going to interrupt him or call him to set or wake him after he fell asleep in the make-up chair. Even if Robyn had of been in the apartment with him, he knew he would still feel relaxed because she would let him be. Robyn never felt the need to fill the silence with conversation, happy to sit and read or listen to music or watch TV. She never pestered him, allowing him to rest and sleep. He still hadn’t quite figured out how she knew what he needed without question, how she was willing to share her home, life and everything with a stranger, a man she had only known for nine days without a single thought or question, including her bed.

“Though it is pretty big bed.” Said Taron to himself, thinking to last night how they had both slept soundly on their sides having lots of room to move if needed.

The conditions under how they met were extraordinary and Taron felt as if he had known Robyn for years, not days and he absolutely trusted her beyond a doubt, their friendship one he knew would be strongly bonded for life. He slowly sipped his coffee, in no rush to hurry, looking around Robyn’s apartment as he did so. Pictures and trinkets, he hadn’t noticed before were decorated around the place, on top of the piano and on the wall. He snuggled back into the cushions, a happy sigh leaving his lips. The time two weeks ago he was deep into filming, literally running around the set in New York, sweating buckets in his suit as he was fixed to a harness jumping over yellow taxi cabs. Now he lay with his feet up, drinking coffee in a homely apartment belonging to the woman who has saved his life. It still sent startling shivers down his spine when he thought about it but it was getting easier with every day and it became part of their conversation now too, both remembering something else that had happened in the 7/11, taking the time to talk it through with each other. Taron was happy to talk to Robyn about anything to do with the 7/11 because not only did it ease his fears, it subdued Robyn’s too and led to another peaceful night’s sleep for her.

Taron yawned and stretched a little, a little guilty for feeling far too comfortable. He finished his drink and stood up carefully, moving to the kitchen to wash the cup at the sink, leaving it to drip dry beside their clean breakfast dishes. He looked around the kitchen, obvious signs of his presence in Robyn’s home such as the coffee maker which she had insisted on leaving out for him as well as his tablets, phone charger and shirt on the island. A small smile filled his lips as he recalled eating from the same fork as Robyn last night as she sat on the island. It was an action of mischief that he thought was going to get him into trouble until Robyn played along delightfully. Shaking the images from his head, he moved out of the kitchen and towards the fish long fish tank that partially separated the eating and living areas.

“They are only goldfish.” Robyn had explained to him when he asked her about it. “I don’t have a great reputation with tropical fish. Kind of boiled the last ones I had so I just stick to cold water fish.”

Underneath the tank, her bookshelf, filled messily with a number of books of varying topics. A full collection of Terry Goodkind along with Lord of the Rings were worn and well read. Harry Potter looked even more so, Taron picking up a copy of the first book which was in Irish, only recognising it by the picture on the cover and inside words were written in pencil in English, Robyn finding the need to translate the Irish even though she spoke it. Another shelf was full of baking and cook books and on the very bottom shelf, bulky lever arch files took up the whole row. Taron pulled the first one out and opening it, was met with a results page in which Robyn was awarded ninety-eight percent for her work inside. He skimmed through the poly pockets, the information inside relating to Robyn’s job, realising he was looking at her college work, recognising her writing, coloured pages, drawings and pictures filling each page. He carefully put it back in its place and moved over to the piano.

He would love to be able to sit and play like Robyn could and had contemplated looking into taking lessons but he was just so busy he wouldn’t be able to full commit it. On top of the piano were a few picture frames, pictures of Robyn with various people smiling back at him. He recognised her mam in one and the man standing the other side, Taron figured was her dad. Another was Robyn and a brown and white dog in the snow, another Robyn sitting in a park with some girlfriends. Above the piano, she had four glass frames with her college certificate awards and wounded around the frames a string with little clothes pegs, instant photos hanging down decorating the wall, pictures of Robyn and her life along with stunning sunsets and dolphins. Seeing the frames of the instant photos, Taron wondered if she had her own camera or did it belong to her friends. He hoped she owned one and would be willing to snap a picture with him to add it to her wall and maybe snap another so he could keep it too.

Moving past the television he browsed her DVD’s. Even though Netflix and streaming became the norm, Robyn still held tight to her DVD’s and Taron wasn’t surprised to see a vast collection of musicals and out of pure interest moved to the ‘R’ section and smiled as he pulled out Rocketman. Carrying the DVD back to the kitchen he routed out a marker from the drawer that Robyn called her ‘bits and bobs’ drawer and quickly signed the front of it.

“‘Not too sure about the guy who played Elton’.” He wrote, the words he had said to Robyn in the 7/11 when the argument had started between her and Maggie. “‘Your rocketman, Taron.”

Grinning he replaced the marker and put the DVD back in its place and as his curiosity grew, he moved to the ‘b’ section and found Bohemian Rhapsody.

“Of course.” He laughed and walked back into the kitchen and took the marker from the drawer again. “‘Really? The sooner we have this Elton/Freddie sing off, the better…’” He wrote on the cover of the DVD.

He replaced the DVD and glanced over the titles again, his head titling when he got to the ‘w’ section, his fingers pulling out a copy of ‘We Will Rock You’.

“Kilcreen musical society presents, We Will Rock You, April 2018.” He read out, looking at the picture of the cast on the front. There in the middle was Robyn, her blonde hair crimped and styled in two messy high pony tails, the rest of her hair streaked pink and purple around her shoulders. As he held the slim box in his hands, Taron knew what was going to keep him occupied for the morning. He left the chosen DVD on the coffee table and wandered into the bedroom. Again, his belongings were scattered around the place, the jeans he had taken off thrown on the bed, one converse at the door, the other under the television, the bed unmade as they both rushed to get ready to leave earlier.

He wandered into the closet and chuckled. He vaguely remembered it when Robyn showed him around her house when he first arrived and there was some sort of organisation to the closet but now clothes were strewn everywhere. To his right there was a railing and hung very nearly were what Taron assumed were Robyn’s work clothes, trousers and blouses, shirts and an odd skirt ready to be used for the working day. To his left a section just for shoes, Robyn not lying when she said she was converse girl at heart. She owned many a pair of many colours along with some winters boots and flip flops. He could see two pairs of heels as well. An unusual shoe, caught his eyes, buried under the flip flop and he reached into pull it out, some sort of tap show in his hand, but he didn’t look the ones he had seen his friend Jamie wear, as there was a silver buckle tied through the laces. Then it clicked with him. An Irish dancing shoe. Digging a little deeper he pulled put two soft leather shoes, with criss-crossed laces from toe to ankle. Definitely Irish dancing shoes.

“More secrets Robyn?” He said to himself. He was going to have to ask her about these when she was home.

He turned around and behind him were shelves and cubby holes with her t-shirts, jeans and his freshly cleaned clothes and though he was tempted to look in the drawers underneath the cubbies, he stayed away.

He already knew the ins and outs of the bathroom and walked back into the bedroom and over to the white make up table in the corner of the room with the large oval mirror. Only now did he notice the jar with make-up brushes and few make-up products scattered across the table, not that he really recognised many of them. He still had yet to see Robyn wear any make up, something she didn’t really seem too bothered about.

He stood at the glass doors, looking out into the bright sunshine of the morning, the garden one of his favourite parts of Robyn’s home. His flat in London had no garden and although his home in Aberystwyth had a small garden, a larger one in his mam’s house, it didn’t have the comfortable seating that Robyn’s had and as she had an Alexa set up almost everywhere in her apartment, music could be heard in every room, even the garden.

Taron moved away from the hot windows and back into the living room, picking up the DVD from where he left. He had seen Robyn set up the DVD and was sure he could work it out and once he realised there wasn’t actually a DVD player, it took him a good five minutes to figure out that the disc went in to the side of the television.

“Alexa Stop.”

Shaking his head, he took up his favourite spot in the corner of the couch and thankfully the musical loaded itself so he wasn’t posed with the challenge of getting it started. Legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, Taron smiled as the recognisable sound of Freddie Mercury filled the air of the room as the amateur musical started.

Taron realised he was in big trouble with his sing off with Robyn, when on the DVD she sang that first note to Somebody to Love, the third song in the musical, pitch perfect with no band behind her. He found his mouth open at the end of the song, absolutely taken back with the power behind his host’s voice. She made it look effortless and easy and when the duet of Under Pressure started with the character Galileo, Taron was wondering what else he could offer her instead of a sing off.

He thoroughly enjoyed the production Robyn’s home town had put on, the whole cast nailing their roles perfectly, and found himself singing along quite a few times along the way. As the cast took their bows, he got to his feet and headed back to the DVD’s. If Robyn had one production she had been in, he was curious to see if there were more. He grinned as he pulled out Les Misérables and Into the Woods along with Hairspray and Jesus Christ Superstar.

He took out We Will Rock You from the television and slipped Les Misérables into the slot, the DVD loading itself. He walked into the kitchen and made another cup of coffee and as it brewed, carefully pulled his shirt back on, the air condition making the room a little too chilly. After adding two sugar cubes to his coffee, he carried it back to the couch and got comfortable again, the familiar music filling his ears.

Completely different to the comedic role of Scaramouche, Epionine was emotional and heartbroken and he was sure Robyn’s tears were real as she got to the pivotal moment in On My Own. He was again immediately impressed with the production and as the music for the second act began, his phone rang. He balanced his second cup of half-drunk coffee on the couch, but changed his mind and left it on the table and walked into the bedroom and routed through his jeans to his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“Hey mam.”

“Taron, love. How are you?”

“I am good mam.”

“That’s what you always say and I have to get the truth from Robyn.”

Taron chuckled. “I am currently chilling on Robyn’s couch, drinking coffee in the air conditioning while watching Robyn on the TV in her musical societies production of Les Misérables. I am good Mam.”

“Taking your pain killers?”

“Yes.”

“Sleeping?”

“Yes.”

“Eating?”

“Yes.”

“Sorted out your filming schedule?”

“Yep. Matthew rang me the other day. I will be back in New York at the start of November.”

“Taron, Christmas?”

“Don’t worry. I have the time off for Christmas at home and New Year’s too.”

“And how is Robyn?”

“She is doing really good. Gone to some really important meeting today for her work to help get funding to upgrade their garden.”

“And you will be coming home to me when?” Tina rapid fired the question’s Taron’s way but she heard her son sigh on the end of the phone. “Taron love, you do not have to explain anything to me. I am still desperate for that hug but I can hear such a change in your voice. You sound so much happier and more relaxed and I know Robyn is taking really good care of you.”

“She is.”

“And you better be taking care of her too Taron.”

“I am mam and I will be home.”

“When you are ready love. Not before.”

The conversation between mother and son continued for half an hour, another fifteen minutes with his sisters before Taron was able to start the musical again. He found himself wiping a lone tear from his eye as Eiponine and Marius had their last moment together, Taron completely engrossed in the show.

When the DVD finished, Taron’s stomach rumbled. Looking to his phone he saw it was well past three in the afternoon. Bringing his cup with him, he washed it out and added it to the mounting dishes on the sink. He popped two slices of bread into the toaster and took a plate from the press, a knife from the drawer and left them ready to use. He started to think about what he could make for them for dinner, Robyn not getting in until late that evening and knowing she was working through her lunch break today, she was bound to be hungry. He dried the dishes on the sink and packed them away while he waited for his toast, still thinking about dinner. The toast popped and he buttered it.

“That is the best butter in the world.” Robyn’s voice came to him. “It’s Kerrygold. Best butter ever.”

He smiled as he took a bite of the warm toast, the light snack hitting the spot perfectly. He was sure he had seen some sort of chicken in her freezer when he was routing the other day and once he had finished his toast, routed in the drawer and pulled out two plain chicken pieces and left them on a clean plate to start defrosting. He knew Robyn had some mozzarella in her fridge too.

“And potatoes.” He smiled. With dinner sorted in his mind, Taron moved back to the television and switched the DVD’s out, Hairspray his choice this time, needing something a little lighter, Robyn’s name cast as Amber Von Tussle. He felt extremely honoured and proud to be able to watch these DVD’s of Kilcreen’s past musicals from the last ten years, watching as the performances went from strength to strength, seeing a much younger Robyn in Hairspray. He stretched to reach for the DVD box, cringing as he stretched a little too far and looked at the year.

“Two thousand and eleven.”

Doing some calculations, Taron’s eyes looked to the screen to see a twenty-two-year-old Robyn, in what was probably her first lead role on stage. Just as he had to learn and grow with each movie he took on, so did Robyn and she had only bloomed in her stage presence and confidence. Taron thought he should have looked at the years on the DVD boxes before he started, working his way forward rather than backwards but it was nice to watch a younger Robyn, feeling it fair as she could easily watch the first Kingsman movie.

At five thirty Taron moved from his spot, a long yawn leaving his lips as he gently stretched, before making his way to the bathroom. Even though he had been by himself, he felt like Robyn had been with him the whole time as he watched her perform on stage.

Strolling back into the kitchen, he made a start on some food for them, defrosting the chicken in the microwave for a few minutes before he stuffed it with the cheese and rashers he had found in the fridge. He chopped up some potatoes into little cubes and flavouring them with some garlic and chilli, adding various vegetables to the roasting tin too, putting both the chicken and sides into the oven baking away at a low temperature.

He resumed the musical, sinking into the couch again curling his legs under him his time, worried that if he got too comfortable he would sleep and burn dinner, already feeling tired after lazing around all day.

He was putting two plates into the oven an hour later to warm them up, ready to serve dinner when Robyn arrived home.

“Hey Taron.” She called as she closed the front door.

“Hello, chicken!” Called Taron back, laughing when he heard her groan his name from the bedroom where she went to first once she was inside. “You hungry Robyn?” Taron turned to look for her when she didn’t reply, moving to the bedroom looking for her, walking back out to the kitchen when she wasn’t here.

“Robyn?”

“On the couch.” She replied.

Taron walked around the side of the couch and found her laying on her back, her pony tail hanging off the edge, still dressed in her blue trousers and white top now untucked from the waistband of her pants suit and she had taken her shoes off, the reason why he hadn’t heard her come back from the bedroom.

“Robyn? You ok?” He asked concerned at seeing her laying on her back, eyes closed, her left leg bent at the knee, her hands resting low on her stomach under her top, the tiniest silver of skin noticeable in the gap between her top and trousers.

“Yep I am good.”

“Are you sure?” Asked Taron as he sat on the poof beside the couch, moving it down so he was sitting opposite her side. She turned her head to look at him, those same green eyes now staring at her that had been a constant distraction for her all day. “You really don’t look like someone who had had a good day.”

“I got the funding.” She answered. “And…” She began as Taron started to congratulate her. “Valerie handed in her notice today. She leaves on Friday and…” She lifted her left hand to stop Taron from speaking. “I already have interviewed her replacement and she starts tomorrow to be trained in.”

She put her hand back down and turned away from Taron moving a little bit finding a comfortable position again.

“For someone who has had such an accomplished day, you don’t give off the happiness vibes.” Taron watched as Robyn moved again, her eyes creasing a little as she did so. “Congratulations by the way with the funding. I knew that pants suit would get you what you wanted.”

Robyn laughed gently. “Yep it was all the pants suit. Nothing to do with my years of experience, expertise and wonderful way with words.”

Taron chuckled along with her but his hand went to hers on top of her stomach, when she winced again. “Robyn seriously, what is wrong? I don’t think I have seen you sit this still by your own accord since I have met you.”

“So, you know that thing that happens to a woman once a month?” She turned to look at him, his face changing from understanding to sympathy, his hand gripping hers a little tighter. “Not something I am normally bothered by, but I think because I have been on the go for the last two weeks, sleep deprived and run down, my body just hates me at the moment.” She moved again on the couch, her left leg laying down, her right one bending. “I am just going to crash here for a few minutes.” She moved Taron’s hand up a little so her right hand was free to rub her lower stomach a little, his now resting on her rib cage. “It has been a day and half but a very good day all round.”

“Ahh shit Robyn. What I can do for you?” Asked Taron.

“Nothing at all. I just need fifteen minutes or so to lay here and do nothing and then I shall be right as rein.”

“Robyn surely there is something I can get for you?” He asked again, his previous experience of what Robyn was going through had him routing for heat pads, hot water bottles and chocolate, lots of chocolate.

“Taron, honestly, I am going to lay here with my eyes closed for a while. That’s all I need.” She could feel his thumb gently rubbing her side through her top. “I am so low maintenance, Taron, I don’t need anything but some time to sit still. I haven’t stopped all day. I promise.” She could see worry fixed in his eyes and his lips were turned down as a frown filled his features, the bruising on his face making him look even more worried. She lifted her right hand to his left cheek. “You are sweet for wanting to help but I doubly promise.” She took her hand away from his face and placed it back on her stomach under her top.

Taron was at a loss. He was used to being ordered around at times like this but Robyn was so different, happy to just have him sit beside her. He tried to think of something he could do for her.

“Give me two seconds.” He lifted his hand from her and standing up, walked into the kitchen and turned the oven down to the lowest setting, so the dinner he had made would finish cooking very slowly. He then walked back over the couch and stood at the edge. “Will you sit up for a minute?” He asked her, looking down to her while she opened her eyes to look up.

“Huh?”

“Can you sit up for me for a minute.”

“Taron I really just want to lay here for a little while.”

“I know that. You can still lay there but trust me.” Robyn winced as another small nuisance cramp bothered her but did as Taron asked, sitting up. She felt the couch sink a little as Taron sat down behind her. “Ok now lay back.” Taron picked up one of the softer of Robyn’s blue cushions and placed it on his lap, guided Robyn down so her head lay on it, her whole upper back, neck and head supported by his legs. “Now you can keep laying still.”

“Taron what…”

“Hey Alexa play Ludo Euvi…”

“Hey Alexa, play Ludovico Einaudi.” Corrected Robyn, smiling up to Taron as he tried his best to play her favourite piano music.

“Yeah it’s going to take me a long time to learn how to say that name. Now lay back, close your eyes and relax. Take your fifteen minutes or however long you need.”

Doing as Taron asked, Robyn relaxed right back into him, another sore twinge making her twist her hips a little until it passed. She absolutely knew this was her bodies way of creating payback for her for putting it through hell the last few days. Normally Robyn never experienced a rough of a time as she felt now when a woman had to go through that monthly period but her insides were churning with misery. Her day had been full of every possible positive outcome, everything falling into place until she was back in her office late afternoon and the torment started. She was so happy to get home to her couch, and just wade out the wave of grief but Taron had insisted on making her more comfortable and attempted to play music he knew she loved.

“Do you want to pull out your pony tail Robyn?” He asked. “Can’t be comfortable on the back of your head.”

“Yeah of course.” She lifted her head a little from the cushion and moved her hands to her head but Taron got there first and she felt him press the clip of her pearl and diamond slide open and gently fluff her hair out so it wasn’t tied up any more, before his hand dipped to the back of her neck gently kneading warm skin that his fingers touched. It felt wonderful for her hair to be free from the pony tail but even more so what Taron was gently doing as he applied light pressure to the base of her skull.

“Lay back down.” He instructed to her, Robyn doing as she was asked, her hands now resting on the waistband of her trousers. Taron placed his right hand on top of Robyn’s, his left on the crown of her head, fingers manipulating through her hair, making sure he kept the weight of the movements light. He moved to brush her hair away from her face, long strands sliding through his fingers, before coming back to her left temple and he softly ran his index and middle finger in circles on her skin, his strokes moving over her forehead back down to her left cheek. He immediately saw Robyn relax under his touch, and repeated the light caresses over and over, running his hand through her hair in between his attention to her face. At one point he left a feather light trail down her nose, just as he did when he was trying to get Robyn back to sleep and when she didn’t recoil with the new source of affection, Taron did it again, sure he felt her move her face the slightest bit closer to his hand. He swept his fingers down her nose again. “Have I told you that I like your freckles?” He said as he brushed her nose once more.

Robyn’s lips grew into a smile. “You might have mentioned it.” Keeping her eyes closed she tried to hide the delightful shiver that ran from the back of her neck and down her spine as once again Taron, almost lovingly scratched her head so wonderfully. She turned her right hand over and linked her fingers with his, the back of his hand now resting on her stomach.

Taron left hand now kindly ran across the top of her left shoulder. “Lots of freckles.”

Robyn grinned. “Kisses from the sun.” She opened her eyes and looked up to him, his green eyes warm. “It’s what I tell the children freckles are.”

“Kisses from the sun. Well the sun must really like you.” Laughed Taron as he tapped the tip of fingers on each one on her shoulder.

“They only come out in the sun Taron and as I have been in Florida for six months, there are quite a few.”

“I like them.” He said again. “Do you feel a little better now?” He asked, his left hand running through her hair again, before he stopped.

“Hmm give me five more minutes and I will let you know. Hair. Please.” She answered him using the exact same words he had when she was scratching his head. She felt his body move as he laughed but doing as she asked, Taron fingers resumed their light kneading. It was a perfect distraction from her insides as were still giving her a beating. Taron’s hand was cool on her warm skin as they linked fingers and she pulled their joined hands up a little so they were resting further up on her ribs rather than her stomach, the weight just a little uncomfortable for her at the moment.

“Robyn?”

“Hmm?”

“Is that your scar from your appendix?” Taron had watched as she moved their hands, revealing more skin to him and as he watched golden skin become more exposed, part of it was tarnished with a long thin scar which travelled under the waistband of her trousers.

“Pretty eh?” She felt Taron freeze under her and opening her eyes, she looked up to him. “Taron?”

“That’s what Frankie called you. Pretty.”

“Ah shit Taron, I didn’t even think. Wrong choice of word.” She lifted their linked hands and placed a quick kiss on the back of his.

“It’s ok. Just another memory I would rather forget.” He looked down to her, blue eyes staring up at him. “Nice scar though.”

“Yep another one to add to my ever-growing collection but it tells a story and you know I love to tell a good story.”

Taron found himself smiling as his left hand started to trace over her forehead again. “So, any better now?”

“You owe me two more minutes of hair playing.” Robyn snuggled a little into the cushion. “Then I will think about doing something more productive.”

“Our dinner is going to be ruined.” He commented.

“Dinner?”

“Yeah dinner Robyn. I made us some food.”

“You did?”

“Yeah I did. I knew you worked through your lunch break and had a lot of pressure on you today so I thought the least I could do was pull something together for us.” Taron scratched her head again. “And I had a very interesting day.”

“Doing what?”

“Snooping.” He answered tapping her nose, her lips lifting in a brilliant smile. “So, I have three questions for you.” Taron continued to play with her hair as he spoke. “One, do you Irish dance? Two, do you have an instant camera and if so, can we take a photo for your wall and three, Bohemian Rhapsody? You traitor!”

Robyn found herself laughing again. “First off that was four questions, not three. One, as a kid, yes Irish dancing but not anymore. Not for years and I just kept the shoes ‘cos we use them in work to show the kids. Two, yes I have an instant camera. Three of course we can take a picture for my wall and four, you know I adore Queen.”

“I also have another suggestion for our karaoke off.”

“Ok...”

“So maybe I could invite you to a movie premier or something instead.”

Robyn let go of his hand and sat up fast, Taron’s hand falling through her hair and turned so she could look directly at him, kneeling beside his legs. “You backing out Egerton? What else have you been snooping through?” She asked grinning widely at him.

“So, I might have found your DVD’s of the performances you were in with the musical society.”

Robyn grinned some more. “You afraid Taron that little old me might beat you in the sing off?”

“Yes. I know you will and can!” He turned so he could look at her. “So, want to take up my offer of attending a movie premier instead?”

“Absolutely not. I made that deal, which we shook on by the way, because I wanted to hear you sing, not because I wanted to win. I wanted to hear you sing because you have a beautiful voice.” She watched as he looked down at his hands. “Don’t even act shy about Taron. You practically sang Elton’s whole catalogue and you know you can sing and I have no interest in movie premiers. I would much rather sing a song with you. If you want, I will hold back when we eventually have our sing off. I will go easy on you!”

“Somehow I don’t think you will.”

“Probably not.” Robyn loved how she could make him blush. “Thanks Taron. Now I feel better.”

“Of course you do.” He replied sarcastically but his scowl didn’t last long as Robyn placed a kiss on his right cheek and it was so light, it didn’t even sting his sore skin.

“I am going to have a quick two-minute shower.” She stood up, still feeling a little achy but her mood had definitely been lifted and Taron’s thoughtful actions had helped a lot.

“You sure I can’t get you anything Robyn?”

“You have already done loads Taron. After dinner, we can take those instant photos. I have the camera but I have the instax printer too so we have the best of both worlds. We can take a picture on a phone and print it out.”

Taron’s eyes followed her as she walked around the couch and into the bedroom, letting a breath he didn’t know he was holding. What he did know was that every moment he got to spend with Robyn the more he wanted to spend with her. Robyn was so different, independent and strong but also had this softer side that she was slowly sharing with him.

He eased himself up from the couch and heard the shower going in the bathroom as he walked into the kitchen. He picked up a tea-towel and carefully took the plates from the top oven which had been heating and placed them on the island. Opening the main oven door, he took out the large dish with the chicken, potatoes and vegetables and placed it on the heat protector Robyn had so it wouldn’t burn the countertop. Pulling a large spoon from the jug behind the hob, he began to dish the dinner out onto the plates. Opening the fridge, he took out the bottle of iced tea he knew Robyn liked and filled two glasses with it. He set the breakfast bar up with the plates, two glasses and cutlery when Robyn walked out of the bedroom, in a black pair of shorts and long-sleeved blue top.

“That was a quick two minutes.”

“Told you I would be.” She walked past him and pulled open the drawer beside the cutlery one, taking out a packet of paracetamol and popped two out.

“I could have gotten those for you Robyn.” He said.

“Yeah I know but I am just used to doing all these things for myself.” She walked back over to him. “This looks delicious. Again, I commend you cooking skills Taron.”

“So maybe can I cook you a three-course meal instead of having a sing off?”

“Uh-uh.” She took a drink from one of the glasses. “Nope.”

“Yeah didn’t think so.” He took a seat on one of the stools

“Plus, I am the baking queen of this developing relationship.” Robyn took the seat beside him.

“Three course meal out. I shall keep thinking.” Taron was ready to change the subject of their conversation. “So, you got the funding and a new staff member in one day?” He asked.

“Valerie has gotten a new job as a personal assistant for manager for some company in Dublin. Best career change for her. She can potter around pretending she is a big shot in her high heels, shorts skirts and sun glasses.”

“Meow!”

Robyn laughed. “She just doesn’t have the passion to work with children. You need to have a certain temperament and personality and she just wasn’t suited to the job. I get to have her exit meeting on Friday.”

“An exit meeting?”

“Hmm where you get to talk to the employee about their work and experience with the company.”

“You are going to slaughter her, aren’t you?”

“As much as I would love too, I won’t. I still haven’t forgiven her for what she said about you and me in the office but no, I will be very nice and Emma will be there as well because to be fair, I have only known her a week.”

“I don’t think I will ever do anything that will piss you off Robyn. I don’t want an exit meeting”

Robyn grinned. “I have a feeling we won’t ever need an exit meeting Taron. We are going to be in each other’s company for a very long time.”

#Taron Egerton #Taron Egerton Fanfiction #Taron Egerton Fanfic #Taron Fanfic #love #Friendship #Loyalty #Trust #Working Together

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floutua · 5 years

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it’s enough for me

I know I said the second part of Just Us will be posted either today or tomorrow, but I was inspired to write this! This wasn’t requested by anyone but I still hope you enjoy this nonetheless.

p/s: i have received quite a lot of requests for Five and I enjoy reading the requests. I will get to them as soon as I can! Thank you for sending those requests in.

The entire day had been taxing and by the time you got to your apartment, you are absolutely tired and both physically and emotionally drained. Your day hadn’t gone exceptionally well, and your boss also has your entire team running thin, asking everyone to cover this and that event. Unfortunately, you had been stuck with covering the recent murder cases that had started happening around the time Sir Reginald Hargreeves passed away – you honestly didn’t think this is a coincidence, but right now, you are too tired to think about conspiracy theories. Although, you reckon the only reason why you had been assigned to this job is because of how you aren’t as queasy as your other colleagues: the perks of having parents as morticians maybe.

“I should sleep.” You murmur to yourself, squinting your eyes at your clock. It is after 8PM – 8:43PM to be exact – and to be truth, this is still a tad bit too early for you but you feel like the longer you stay up, the crankier you will be and no one really wants to be around a cranky you. Moving away from your vanity, you head over to your bed, climbed in and pulled the covers up to your chin. You must have been more tired than you actually thought you were because as soon as your head hits the pillow, you knocked out.

You might have only been asleep for an hour or two when you hear someone stumbling and staggering around from the living room. Your eyes shoot open and you immediately sit up as your heart starts to race and you reach over for your phone, getting ready to dial the police if the need arises – you can never be too sure. You wait with abated breath and when your door opens, you almost screamed out loud, only stopping yourself because standing by your door looking like an absolute shit is Diego Hargreeves. Your ex-boyfriend.

“Diego!?” Your heart is still racing, and your fear dissipates, turning into anger at the thought of Diego breaking into your apartment. “What the hell – what time is it!” You stare at your phone and let out a groan: it is almost midnight and on top of that, you had received a text from your editor, requesting you to rewrite one of the pieces you had sent earlier that day. “What are you doing here, Diego?”

Diego keeps quiet, shoulders trembling, and hands clenched into tight fists as he stares at the ground. The anger slowly disappears when you realize the lack of response – because for as long as you remember, Diego always had something smart to say (and more often than not, always wanted to have the last words) – and how frozen stiff Diego is. Pushing the covers away, you drop your phone beside you and get out of the bed, furrowing your eyebrows when you notice that Diego’s hands are red, judging from the light coming from the living room. “Are you bleeding? Jesus, Diego!” You move over to him and pause briefly when you notice that his hands had dried blood and you swallow the lump in your throat: this was one of the reasons why the two of you had broken up. “Diego…”

“It’s not mine.” Diego’s voice is slight hoarse, almost broken and he trembles when the image of Eudora laying there, lifeless flashes right before his eyes and his eyes well up with more tears. Diego breathes heavily as he tries his goddamn hardest not to break down in front of you. Diego isn’t entirely sure how he had ended up here; after finding Eudora’s body a little bit too late, he had blown up at his brothers and slammed the door behind him and the next thing he knows, he is standing here. “She’s gone, Y/N.”

It takes you a few seconds to understand what Diego is telling you and you gasp, bringing a hand to cover your mouth. This had been the other reason as to why the two of you had decided to separate: Eudora Patch. “W-what? When?” You swallow the lump in your throat as tears start to well up in your eyes.

Diego finally looks up at you and your heart breaks completely. His nose is red, his eyes are full of tears and he looks absolutely and completely lost and heartbroken. Even though the two of you did not part in good terms – there were a lot of screaming and name-calling and things that weren’t meant to be said were exchanged – Diego had been one of your closest friends before and to see him hurt like this makes your heart shatter. “They killed her.”

You aren’t exactly sure who ‘they’ refer to but at that very moment, it didn’t matter. All that matters to you is Diego hurting. “Oh, love.” You did not even think twice as you pull Diego to you and wrap your arms around him. Since Diego is taller than you, he had to bend his head down just a bit just so he can actually bury his head in your shoulder, and you tighten your hold around him. “I’m so sorry, Diego.” You begin rubbing his back soothingly and this is when Diego finally lets go: he begins to cry, sobs racking through his body. Seeing and hearing the strong man before you cry like this is enough to make your own tears fall.

Diego and you had been an ‘us’ a long time ago and you always used to think that the two of you would end up together. (You had been completely naïve). Now that you are much older, you realize why the two of you would probably have not worked out if you had stayed together back then. Diego and you were completely immature – both wanting and demanding different things from each other. You hadn’t understood why he needed to put himself in dangerous situations and he didn’t understand why you couldn’t support him in doing what he does – which probably led to him turning to Eudora Patch for comfort at that time. Things simply went downhill after that and the two of you broke up when you found the two of them together.

You continue to rub Diego’s back, not minding how wet your shoulder is right now. At some point, Diego had curled his arms around your body, crying over the lost of his love. If only he had gotten the message earlier, if only he hadn’t been out trying to find Five, if only Five hadn’t come back – this just makes him cry harder, angry and heartbroken over the turn of events.

(At one point, Diego even thinks he must have also cried over the death of the monster they all call ‘father’ and how he had to pull Grace’s plug too).

“It’ll all be alright, love.” You murmur into his ear as you try your hardest to console him. You quickly wipe your own tears, clearing your throat. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay, Diego?” You ask him quietly and it takes a few minutes for Diego to slowly nod his head and when he pulls back, you almost instantaneously want him back in your arms but you mentally scold yourself, this is not the time.

“T-th, th- thank y-ou.” Diego stutters clearly upset to the point that he could not even speak properly, and you shake your head. You lift a hand up to his face to wipe the tears away and Diego looks at you, grateful at your action. Diego has always regretted how things had ended between the two of you and it wasn’t until he found himself standing inside your apartment, being comforted by you did Diego realizes just how much you still have his back. “I’m s-s-sorry.”

You shake your head once more. “Let’s get you cleaned up, alright, love?” You drop your hand from his face and grab on to his hand, pulling him out of your bedroom into the living room. “You have nothing to apologize for, Diego. I will always be here for you.”

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wheremytwinwatches · 4 years

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[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 39

Last time: The Blondes finally met back up with the Brunettes, Yoki was an idiot who tried to burgle the Leto-damned ARMSTRONGS, and Scar either kidnapped or “kidnapped” Winry. Onwards!

New Intro! We’ve got the two young brothers separated by wind, then the title drawn in sand before it’s white text with a glowing red TC and the brothers running in opposite directions. Are we going to have a Party Split? Nevermind, they just slowed down to the middle of the screen. Bright light, Ed should have brought a hat to this sunny bunch of rocks. Then he looks off all dramatic like as camera goes to Al trudging through a desert before he too does the Dramatic Protagonist Stare. Both brothers back to back against the Xerxes mural ok seriously betting on a Party Split here with all the opposite directions going on. Now the Elric Brothers are running at each other and yep just phased through to become Red (Ed) and Blue (Al). Looking around for each other? Whatever happens I guess Al is with May since he has Shao on his shoulder and her gripping his hand, Ed’s got Winry in unzippered gear on his side. Camera pans out to show Al with May, Scar, and Marcoh to the left, Al, Winry, and Granny Rockbell to the right. Then a bunch more people start popping up? Can’t tell who is on which team anymore. Short image of Al’s Body in the whitespace, becomes a Stone which shatters to show a smug-looking Pride. Now Ed’s running about striking shadow blades in a forest (Ed vs Pride fight?), Al’s in the rocky desert fighting more toothy Pride blades. Wrath in what looks like a basic longsleeve shirt and vest (no uniform?) fighting LING YES TURN AGAINST THE GOTHS MY GREEDY LITTLE PRINCE Envy’s in Titan form getting sliced up by YES BRING BACK BADASS NINJA BODYGUARDS. Now it’s Armstrong The Great looking serious, Sloth burst out from snow to be used as target practice by Sideburns and a bunch of tanks but Kimblee swoops in and blows the shells up. Beard’s walking along with his briefcase frowning towards Central in the distance. Ed and Al stand back to back in a TC in the desert (not as rocky as the one Ed was in, but not as sandy as the one Al was in), shot of the Door of Truth opening and shattering, ends on the Alchemist Watch covered by the title and silhouettes of the Elric Brothers. Back where we left off: It’s a cloudy and windy day in Baschool, where Scar is carrying Winry’s limp form and glaring down at Kimblee. The Ishvalan comments on how they’ve changed positions from the last time they met, the Alchemist says he shouldn’t be so confident. Episode 39 - “Daydream” Oh no Winry’s in trouble so Ed is grabbing Kimblee’s coat and yelling at him for letting his mechanic get captured, Kimblee tells him to move aside while pulling off his gloves (hey, he’s kinda Roy’s opposite in that regard), Ed blocks his arms so that he won’t hurt Winry by attacking Scar. The Ishvalan then shatters the building, creating a nice big dust cloud to walk away in. Kimblee’s about to chase after him but a mustached soldier says that it’s too dangerous to go close to the damaged building, they need to fall back. Oh, and there’s a snowstorm incoming so they have to find shelter! Man, it has just not been Kimblee’s day, has it? Ed, Sideburns, Al and some soldiers are walking along, Miles compliments Ed on his performance aha, called it! Ross Deception! Ed’s not happy about having to play along with the “stupid charade”, though. Flashback! Scar isn’t apologizing for the death of Winry’s parents. She has every right to pass judgement on him. Winry… walks away, reaches into a box, and pulls out some cloth. Oh, wow. It it wasn’t already clear, Winry is Best Girl. Bandaging an injury on her parent’s killer? Ed and Scar are equally shocked at her compassion and what. What is that face. I’m sorry, this is a sweet and touching moment and all, but Scar? What is going on with your face here?

That is quite possibly the best Does Not Compute face I’ve ever seen. Just, Scar has no idea how to process this. Winry’s saying that if her parents saved his life before, then there must have been a reason. But like Leto does this mean that she’s forgiven him for his murders. She’s not gonna cry though, she promised… wait, I thought it was Ed who promised that the next time she cried it would be tears of joy? Ah whatever. Ok, you’ve got Scar bound up. Angry boyfriend proclamations aside, time to make him decipher the book NO DON’T CALL HEADQUARTERS YOU IDIOTS. Aaaargh. Wait Scar’s asking Sideburns what he meant by “one of your people”, can’t understand how an Ishvalan could stomach being part of the Amestrian military. Sideburns responds that he’s working on the inside to change Amestrian views of Ishvalans, Scar is shocked at such an idea, and that it was an Amestrian that set Sideburns on the path. Scar can only look down. [Scar]: “Look at me. I am a festering wound of hatred born of the Ishvalan War. I am thankful that there is someone like you out there.” Aaargh but just as Scar is realizing that maybe wanton murder isn’t the way to go about things the call goes through, and Kimblee is on his way to “deal” with Scar. This drives Marcoh and May to reveal themselves. Finally! Oh, and now May can patch up Scar’s arm! Outside the Mustached Mook is noting the stormy clouds, Kimblee tells them to hurry up (gee, I wonder if he’ll get there in time?). Marcoh and May are yes thank you for Leto’s sake it took long enough they’re saying that they’ve got groundbreaking Alchemy/Alkahestry research but the only one who can read it is Scar. Sideburns notes that May is the Alkahestry girl they’ve been searching for as well, says that she needs to come back with them to Fort Briggs. Add in that Scar’s needed to read the notes and it’d be just as bad for Marcoh to be recaptured, looks like all three need to go back to the Fort. Ed’s just a mite unhappy with needing Scar’s help, Sideburns knocks him upside the head with the fact that the Goths are pulling some sort of giant TC shenanigans, they need all the info and help they can get right now. Ed stands down after the suggestion that with Scar’s help they can disgrace Kimblee and get Winry away from his clutches. One Ishvalan Oath later Scar’s judgement is postponed… and the Chimeras are waking up, uh oh. The kids balk at Sideburns’ orders to kill them, the Chimeras sadly agree with Sideburns, saying that they can never go back to their old lives. Al tries reasoning with them, appealing to their families but they’ve been told they’re dead. And it’s not like they can go back like this, we’d just be imitating the 2005 Fantastic Four, and nobody wants that.

But Al does get them to yell that “of course they want their old bodies back”, when they quite reasonably say that it can never happen Al does the helmet remove to show his Soul Armor state. [Al]: “Well I’m going back. No matter how long it takes. I’m not giving up.” Ooh, is Al getting some followers? Watch him form an army out of Chimeras tossed aside by the Goths, take them down with their own creations. Unfortunately the snowstorm’s coming in, meaning that they can’t reach the Fort until it passes. And Kimblee’s on his way, so they need a plan- [Yoki]: “This is a mining town, isn’t it? Why don’t we just go into the underground tunnels?” [Everyone]: *turns in surprise to the secret tactical genius in their midst* [Yoki]: “W-what’s wrong? I mean, this is a pretty large mine, right? So surely there’s a tunnel that can take us beyond the mountains, uh… I think?” [Everyone]: “That’s it!” [Yoki, Tactical Genius]: “H-hey, give me some credit; this is what I did for a living!” Ha! Way to finally pull your weight, you C-tier flashback antagonist! Confirming that the tunnels go past the mountains- wait. Wait wait wait. Isn’t the whole point of the mountains that they are between Amestris and Drachma? Ooh, do we finally get to see another country?! Please let my dream of missionary Drachma’s with Leto pamphlets be a reality! Sideburns gives Marcoh notes for any Briggs soldiers the meet after the tunnel (watch them run into Drachmans first and cause all sorts of problems: “These people have notes written in Amestrian! They must be spies from Fort Briggs!”). But what about Winry? If she just up and vanishes with them then Kimblee will suspect the Elrics of foul play! [Winry]: “Um, I hate to be the one to suggest this, but, uh… What do you think Kimblee would do if I was suddenly taken hostage by Scar?” Whoa, so kidnapped!Winry was Winry’s idea? Props to you, mechanic! Mid-ep pictures of Winry Rockbell and human Jerso/Toad and Zampano/Boar. Ed and Al are understandably uneasy with the plan, but Winry shouts them down about being able to at least choose her captor if she’s a hostage either way. Come on Protagonists, learn that you don’t have to or can do everything by yourselves! Scar again promises to protect Winry before Ed lets him loose, when the Chimeras as to be taken along as well. They’ve failed which means Kimblee’s going to kill them either way… [Boar]: “Besides, we don’t want to give up either.” Look at you go Alphonse, already with your two inhuman followers! Also, they’re just a little confused and upset about all this talk of this band of misfits trying to stop some catastrophe that threatens their families along with all of Amestris. Y’know, just a minor detail. Kimblee’s inbound, better hurry. Sideburns asks wait what they’re back to human? Uh ok, with all the talk about being monsters I was kinda assuming that their beast forms were permanent, not something that they could consciously deactivate. Kinda undercuts the whole “we want our human bodies back” if they can shapeshift back like this. The groups are splitting up (to my surprise it’s not the Elric Brothers who are going different ways, at least for now), a soldier remarks that Winry needs to remove her earrings ok what. Seriously, what? This just totally broke my immersion, you cannot tell me that now is the moment when having metal earrings in the frozen north would cause discomfort and haven’t been an issue yet, especially when she came up north specifically because her boyfriend’s metal arm was seizing up. But whatever, she gives them to Ed for safekeeping before promising to see him back at the Fort. Ed gazes up after her, clenching his fist and probably crushing those precious earrings that he was just trusted with. Nice going, kiddo. Explosion! Acting! Snowstorm! Those left in Baschool are sheltering in a building, alternately looking at girlfriend’s jewelry, wondering where their fellow Chimeras have gone, and arguing for planning the next leg of the search. Then Sideburns gets a call from the Fort? Ooooooooh, right. There was that whole “forces from Central showing up to look for Raven” thing going on last time. And our guys are walking right into that mess. Whoops. Down in the tunnel Marcoh’s going on and on about how the Rockbell Doctors were widely respected during the Ishvalan War, how they helped all without regard for themselves. Meanwhile Scar’s walking in the back having flashbacks to Winry’s “I don’t forgive your wanton murdering”, an Ishvalan Elder telling Scar that while he should never forgive the Military’s “wanton murder” that he must abide it-

-to break the chain of hatred, and his brother saying he studies Alchemy to replace hatred with understanding. And here is Scar, following the orders of an Ishvalan who willingly works in the Military to change it, representing the ideals of Scar’s brother and Elders. So what does that make him? Yoki’s having the group stop in an underground office, to pick up a more detailed map of the tunnels. Man, who’d have thought that freaking Yoki would be the most useful party member at this point. Or ever? Inspired by Al, Toad and Boar are pestering Marcoh about any clues in the journal (that he can’t read), they banter with each other about their families. Aw, they’re actually friends! Nice to show that even the Central forces have loved ones, hopefully for real this time after that infuriating Bradley & Selim fakeout. May? What’s wrong? Oh. Oh yeah. Her whole mission was to learn the secret of the Philosopher’s Stone, only to find out it’s based on suffering and the obtaining of immortality for one at the expense of so, so many others. And His Imperial Highness, aka her father, apparently would make one without a moment’s hesitation using any number of his people. So apparently he leans more towards Wrath’s philosophy of leadership than Ling’s. But if she doesn’t bring back the secret of immortality, her clan is in danger from all the others. Marcoh says that the notes might have the humane secret to immortality, they just need to hurry up get to the Fort so Scar can get a-translating. [Ed]: “What do you mean, ‘the Fort is no longer safe’?!” Welp. Just when we get Armstrong The Great as an ally, she’s been summoned back to Central and a Military Officer’s getting put in her place, along with a bunch of other Central forces. So now the Tunnel Team is walking into a hostile environment without knowing. They have to be warned, but how? Ed wants to go but he’ll freeze before he gets anywhere close… [Al]: “There is a way! Listen: send someone who doesn’t have a body. That storm won’t freeze me to death!” Uh, Al? Sure I guess you wouldn’t catch hypothermia, but you’re still a giant suit of steel armor. Remember how there was that whole “Ed’s arm freezing up” problem that was fixed by replacing his entire arm? You don’t have body heat like a living person, your limbs are just gonna ice up. Actually, how the Leto hasn’t that happened yet? Huh. I guess Souls act as armor heaters too, Al’s having more trouble just seeing where he’s walking in the blizzard than actually moving. He sees the path but the winds picks up and the screen whites out from the snow GAH ZOMBIE AL! Oh shit how did Al end up in the Whitespace? Uh, well you’ve found your body? Quick, grab it and let’s get wait no it was an illusion. What, you getting snow madness buddy? Oh. Oh shit. We’ve got a flashback to Barry musing that foreign bodies can’t hold souls for too long, Al’s freaking out about his body trapped in Whitespace, pulling on his soul as it’s rejected by his armor… he can’t think about that right now, he has to hurry. Without the map now, since he dropped it after that vision. Oh hell it’s this asshole. [Uncle]: “Alphonse Elric. Edward Elric. And also… there’s… Van Hohenheim. Izumi Curtis, she’s a possibility-” Aside from all the awfulness of listing off Potential Sacrifices, which is looking a lot more like ‘killing all of these people, not just one or the other’, did you just purposefully knock over Izumi’s piece? Rude, and I can’t wait to see her punch you. “That leaves one more.” New end credits! Rapid guitar music as we race through a 3D hallway/tunnel, outside looks like Ed’s standing in the ruins of the Elric house, Al’s somewhere else standing among some tall square rocks. Flashes of red-eyed Envy, Gluttony, Wrath, Pride, and Uncle (what, no Lust, Greed or Sloth?) A look at Riza’s scarred back with that strange symbol before she turns and I am very sorry for walking in while you were changing ma’am, I’ll be going now. Roy’s still in his eveningwear outfit probably trying to get someone to take all those flowers off his hands, Beard is oh Leto what is happening with your face, are you actually smiling. That looks so weird, stoppit. Oh hey it’s Mama Elric, so sad that we lost you before we could fully appreciate your snark. Ah there’s the scowling Beard that we know, go kick Uncle’s ass. We’ve got Ed jumping and Al and LING YES BRING HIM BACK and a lion and monkey oh my Leto is Al actually going to build a Chimera Army this is the best thing of all time yeah there’s Toad and Boar we are totally getting Rebel General Al. Also there’s Alchemist-Slayer Scar on their side now but who cares CHIMERA ARMY ok fine we also get May and oh Marcoh’s getting in on the action looks like he lost a few teeth wait Yoki no we need you as the secret tactical genius get off the front lines. Selim’s there looking all cute and innocent in his little schoolkid guise until his shadow gets teethy and attacks Ed. Winry’s power walking through a hallway (can’t see if she got her earrings back). Then a bunch of hands reaching up, one larger one grasping a smaller one (which ship will sail?!) before we’re back in the tunnel, shots of Ed and Al and Beard before a final map of the country-sized TC.

#wmtw #where my twin watches #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 39

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togafukagiftexchange · 6 years

Text

Kaleidoscope and Barrikuya

@pinlc-candy: This is my gift for @die-einzelganger. I went with “Prompt #2 for fanfic *Supernatural powers (NEXT abilities, Stands, bending, etc.)” and when I told you that I was going into your t&b fic blind, I KIND OF told a lie - I had watched the movie by that point. I threw in a few minor ships that you mentioned liking, but it’s my first time writing one of them though i tried to do them justice. I really hope you enjoy this. <3 I had a lot of fun writing this.

During the day, Hope’s Peak City looked like a lost civilisation, washed out with grey and blue hues. Buildings towered over the intricate network of roads, dominating the endless stretch of sky, and many, many, statues dotted the city, but at night, the city’s mood advanced by centuries. Warmer hued colours consumed the city, a starving fire with an unsatisfiable appetite, stinking up the air with the smell of spices and smoke. Sleek, silver trains with long noses careered along rails that wound through the city, not bound to only ground level, whizzing far above people’s heads too. They operated during the day as well, but when darkness usurped the sky, they hurtled like shooting stars.

A loud thump above one of the carriages jolted everyone onboard. People tensed, clustering into little groups or huddling by themselves, and they tried to appear smaller by hunching their shoulders and stooping their heads a little, all except one person. This person, dressed in a grey tracksuit, gazed up at the roof with the rest of the passengers, but he didn’t stay still for long. He spun around and shoved his way toward the door at one end of the carriage, and everyone that he elbowed out of his way tumbled aside passively.

When he reached the door, loud screeching grated on the ears of those present. The man looked over his shoulder. Seconds later, two men dropped into the carriage through a hole ripped into the roof, wearing clothes that were as outstanding as the other man’s tracksuit intentionally wasn’t. One of the men was gangling and wore black with red accents on the joints, red boots, shoulder pads and gloves, and there was red on his eye mask that resembled part of the distinctive mark of a widow spider, and his crotch completed the pattern. His outfit was vaguely reminiscent of a cyclist’s attire.

Beside him, the other man’s maroon mask covered not just his eyes but his head and cheeks too, and his white outfit had a different pattern on the front, marked with brown lines, also like a cyclist’s attire. Most notable were his eyes, rendered completely black by his mask.

Whispers and shouts overcame the passengers in a frenzy.

“It’s the Green Widower and Bloodhound!”

The only green component of the man dressed mostly in black was his long hair, which was streaked with red dye, but Bloodhound lived up to his name, with the flaps on his mask resembling ears and his gloves bearing claws. They both stared at the man in the tracksuit.

“It’s the end of the line for you!” Bloodhound snarled, raising a fist in front of him.

“Not literally,” Green Widower pointed out with an awkward smile. He scratched at his chin. “There are several more stops and the train’s still moving, but you’ve got nowhere to run.”

As if fate slammed down its hand with ill-judgement, the train stopped and the doors either side of the carriage drew open. The man in the tracksuit dashed out, carrying a duffel bag under his arm, and he burrowed through crowds as he tried to flee.

From the helicopter looming overhead, he seemed ant-sized, but the camerawoman zoomed in and after some blurring, his image blew up and he came into focus.

“And the thief has disembarked,” announced a man sitting in the helicopter, holding a microphone to his mouth.

Beside him, his redheaded companion pointed her camera at the scene below, following the man in the tracksuit as he sprinted down a flight of steps and recording his every movement until he disappeared into the station building.

“Will Green Widower and Bloodhound, his partner in more ways than one, apprehend him?” the announcer wondered aloud. “Or will the thief get away with stolen diamonds worth millions? Stay tuned!”

A beat passed.

“All right, we’ve got one minute of commercials,” said the announcer, dropping the hammy pleasantness and volume. He touched two fingers to the side of his jaw, placing them below his earpiece. “Togami-shacho, what do we do?”

Across the city, a blond man in a suit stood in a room where monitors occupied an entire wall, each one showing different perspectives of the outside of the station in District Sixteen. By now, Green Widower and Bloodhound had followed the thief into the inside part of the station, and so couldn’t be seen anymore.

The blond man pushed up his square, white-framed glasses.

“Hey, Touko,” he said, and someone squeaked behind him. He didn’t turn around and folded his arms over his chest. “You know what to do.”

“R-Right,” said the same person who squeaked. Touko Fukawa was a head shorter than him and her aubergine hair was styled into two long twin braids. She adjusted her circular framed goggles and opened the compact mirror that she had been holding in one hand, in case a situation like this called for it.

Her brow furrowed in concentration, and her body began to sheen blue. Just as she started to lean into the mirror, it sucked her in, and immediately after, she was spat out into a tunnel. It seemed to go on forever either side of her, and she looked around, floating, weightless.

For all she knew, the tunnel did finish at some point, but she had never reached the end of it. Then again, she had never tried to because as soon as she found the right exit, she left. Touko had entered the tunnel through a paneless window, and many more plastered the surface area all around her, showing snapshots of a variety of scenes frozen in time. Their colours bled out beyond their screens and tinted Touko’s skin with their light. Her dark grey full body suit, which covered everything apart from her head, remained unaffected, as did the leather holster strapped to her right thigh. Even as a keen reader and an experienced fiction writer, Touko would struggle to fully describe such an otherworldly environment.

When she entered this separate dimension, a short commercial break had been taking place. The hit television show, ‘Hero TV’, would resume its broadcast once the break finished, but here, time didn’t seem to pass, not on the outside and not inside of it either. Or if it did, it passed very, very slowly, which she greatly preferred over returning to reality with hours unaccounted for, and Touko flew through the tunnel at a slow and steady pace, glancing this way and that, occasionally pausing to study a particular window before proceeding forward again.

After peeking through a lot of windows, she came across one that showed a grey wall with a dark green stripe running horizontal at the top. The image trembled. Part of a poster advertising an opera could be seen near the edge, and from the kind of poster and the colour scheme, she knew that this was her destination.

Touko kicked her legs and boosted herself toward the window, soaring through.

On the other side was a corridor in District Sixteen’s train station. She jumped out of a puddle and stumbled as she landed on solid ground. People dodged out of her way. Sparse crowds stopped to stare, and she glared at them, holding her tongue for professionalism’s sake. They should have been used to this by now. Her heart raced. So should she.

She grimaced and pressed a discreet notch on the rim of her goggles. A pinprick of green light lit up on that spot. The thief was nowhere in sight, so she hurried down the corridor, trying to avoid bumping into people, and swerved into the next one, already out of breath.

With every step, her heart bobbed up and down. For those watching the developments unravel in the comfort of their own homes, or on their phones as their train sped them to their next destination, they were only exposed to certain sights and sounds. They didn’t feel the bounce back of hard floor against her feet, the tightness in her chest and the pressure from indoor heating cranked too high.

In an attempt to help people get off at their stop when music or a crowded carriage could prevent other senses from alerting a commuter, each district’s station had been assigned a certain smell. Touko inhaled. The smell of beer hops wafted over her, but that couldn’t be transmitted to the viewers.

Even with the senses available to them, the audience listened to the music that the television company played, or the rumble of people picked up during recording. Whatever the show wanted them to hear, they heard. Not the ringing between Touko’s ears or her shallow, uneven panting, and they saw what Touko saw.

Her foot twisted a bit as she stepped forward, causing her to stagger. She flailed her arms, but managed to stabilise herself and kept going. As jittery as she was, she refused to disappoint the viewers and most importantly, him.

The announcer’s voice chirped in her earpiece.

“Welcome back to Hero TV, the go-to show for all your hero needs. For folks just tuning in, diamonds worth millions of yen was stolen from ‘Fora Selec Thew’, and our favourite superhero couple Bloodhound and Green Widower are hot on the criminal’s tail. As the first on the scene, they’ve bagged one hundred points, but will they rack up more and capture the crook? We bring this to you live from District Sixteen - ”

Footsteps spluttered at one end of the corridor. Touko was halfway down the corridor at this point. The footfall didn’t belong to someone on their way home after a busy day, or a worker heading to their night shift, but possessed a mantic energy, and when Touko whipped her head around, her eyes locked onto the thief. He lurched forward, heading her way with no care to who or what lay ahead of him.

As the distance between him and Touko shrunk rapidly, she stiffened. No way could she fight him, not with her slender frame, with her lack of fighting experience. All she could do was avoid being flattened and give chase. She scrambled out of the way, making sure her goggles kept recording him.

“Oi, piss-for-brains!” yelled Bloodhound from the ceiling, back-to-back with Green Widower, their arms hooked at the elbows.

“P-Piss-for-brains?” Touko said, wrinkling her nose, but Bloodhound hadn’t been talking to her.

The thief glanced back but kept running. While Bloodhound’s legs were tucked up toward his chest, Green Widower carried him on his back and sprinted across the ceiling in a way that he always had one foot touching it. Blue light emitted from Green Widower’s body, like that which had been around Touko when she entered her mirror and until just after she had fully risen out of the puddle.

Bumping into people slowed down the thief, while Green Widower had no one to evade on the ceiling. Therefore, Green Widower easily overtook him.

Bloodhound unlinked their arms and slammed down onto the anti-slip platform panels below, not far from the thief. He bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. The thief widened his eyes and bolted off, with the spectators too stunned to change from their passive role, some even side-stepping to let him pass so they wouldn’t get run over.

With great speed, Bloodhound stampeded over and leaped forward, tackling the thief to the floor. They rolled but in the end, Bloodhound was on top. Above them, Green Widower stopped glowing and fell from the ceiling. He flipped in midair and landed expertly on the same surface as everyone else.

“And Bloodhound and the Green Widower have caught the bad guy!” roared the announcer as the spectators erupted into cheers.

Green Widower cupped the back of his head and waved his other hand with a sincere but creepy smile, which if it had a noise, would have been nails down a chalkboard. Bloodhound sat on the thief, posture stooped, and leered at no one in particular. He might have been trying to smile.

“Oi,” came the voice of the blond man with white glasses from Touko’s earpiece. “Get closer. We need some shots of our sponsors’ logos.”

Touko nodded, shaking the camera in her goggles by doing so, and approached them. On Green Widower’s chest, in black font, was the name of a Chinese restaurant, and on Bloodhound’s chest, over his heart, was the emblem for Bepsi.

“And our company name too,” said the blond man.

She shifted slowly and made sure to get the writing on their shoulders, as instructed. Across one shoulder in kanji and in romaji on the other, in gold text, on both costumed men, was ‘Togami’.

*****

In the sea of buildings that made up Hope’s Peak City was a tower called Togami HQ. It belonged to a young billionaire who had taken over the company from his father a few years ago. Or, rather, the position had been thrust upon him after his parent’s sudden death. Touko remembered that the very next day, he had come in, not taking even one day off despite what happened. He had thrown himself into his work more so than usual and continued to power through with the same level of formidable diligence to this day. People had doubted that a boy fresh out of high school would cope, no matter what his father had insisted should happen in the event of his demise, but the company had since thrived like it had never done before.

The automatic doors yawned open. Air conditioning hummed in the blue-hued room. Byakuya Togami took a few paces forward, leaving enough space behind him that Touko could follow him in. A silver-haired maid darted past them to the table, put down a tray, and bowed before leaving. Seconds later, the doors shut.

Further in, already seated at the table, were two men. One looked like a standard businessman. Short, dark hair, plain suit with tie, and the only bit of colour on him was his dark purple tie. His companion, in contrast, seemed like an eccentric time traveller dressed up for Britain in the 1960’s, and wore a white suit accented with orange, a few of his shirt buttons unfastened at the top, a matching trilby hat and a loosened tie. The first man turned his stony gaze on the new arrivals while the other man gave a crooked smile and saluted lazily with one hand.

“Don’t worry, we weren’t waiting too long,” promised the second man. As he inclined his head forward, his scraggly blond hair, hanging limply down to his chin, swayed a bit. He pinched the rim of his hat and twitched it.

“I wasn’t worried,” Byakuya told him.

Byakuya pulled out a chair and sat down opposite him. Touko dragged out another chair and seated herself a short distance away from the table. She plucked a pen from behind her ear and positioned the nib at the top of her clipboard. He crossed one leg over the other and poured himself some green tea from the teapot on the tray. Three other cups flanked the teapot still.

What reason would Byakuya have to be worried?

“I’m not the one with anything to prove,” said Byakuya. “All I’m losing is time that I could be spending elsewhere.”

The man with the hat chuckled. He slouched, resting his chin in his hand and hiding his goatee from view. His blue eyes studied Byakuya with a gleam.

“I assure you, Togami, this is a proposal that you will be very interested in,” said the plain-looking man.

“We’ll see.” Byakuya pursed his lips.

Touko jotted down everything being said.

“My name is Jin Kirigiri,” said the plain-looking man. He gestured toward his companion. “And this is Koichi Kizakura. Currently, I head a private tutoring company for Noted Entities with Extraordinary Talents. NEXT, as people call them. We currently have five students.”

“But with some funding, we could train more,” said Koichi as he rubbed his index finger and thumb together. His wide grin distorted the shape of his thin moustache, and the skin by his eyes crinkled.

“So you’re after money for your school,” said Byakuya bluntly. Touko flung a dirty look their way.

Koichi remained slouched and flapped a hand. “Ah, but it’s not like it’s all going toward alcohol, is it? This is something even more important. The Togami Conglomerate is a fair way down the scoreboard despite owning HERO TV, and it has mostly been the same two heroes doing all the work... and they’re getting on in age.”

His eyes stayed just as playful but his smile became more subdued. More like a smirk.

“We’re astute guys, but I’m sure other people have noticed too,” said Koichi. “NEXT are a fairly new phenomenon. They’ve only been cropping up in the last few decades, and younger, fitter people in their prime are going to be the ones bagging all the points, not middle-aged men. By the way, can we smoke in here?”

All of that, even the last request, was spoken in the same casual tone.

“No,” said Byakuya.

Koichi sighed and got out a lollipop from his chest pocket. He unwrapped the plastic and stuck the sweet into into mouth. His tongue pushed it to one corner of his mouth. It clacked against his teeth.

“So what do you say?” asked Jin.

“That was ‘no’ to both your requests,” said Byakuya icily. “Bloodhound has the ability to track people by their smell, as long as he has access to something that they have touched within the last twenty-four hours. That’s why he was first on the scene and him and Green Widower were able to pursue him. We don’t need more heroes.”

“But what if it wasn’t a petty thief they were chasing?” asked Koichi. He removed his lollipop and wagged it, pointing the sweet end at Byakuya. “Are your heroes capable of handling all possible crimes? Assault? Kidnap? Murder? Terrorism? Those are the crimes that people are most concerned about. Recovering a few diamonds won’t net you big points, like catching a bloodthirsty killer like Genocider Syo would.”

Touko accidentally scribbled a jagged line across the page. Byakuya’s face betrayed nothing.

“How many NEXT have you got?” asked Koichi. He began counting off his fingers. “There’s those two, and your gloomy assistant...”

She glared. Byakuya’s nostrils flared.

“Better gloomy than a vagrant,” hissed Touko.

Koichi’s eyebrows rose. His lollipop froze in place for a few seconds, and then he returned it to his mouth.

Jin squared his shoulders, regarding Byakuya with flinty eyes.

“We’ve done our research, Togami. Those two aren’t your biggest point-getters. They’re your only ones,” said Jin. “And new heroes are going to be coming onto the scene. Some already have. With us, you would have a steady stream of heroes who have been trained and will continue training while representing you.”

Touko glanced at Byakuya, whose brow had creased. He stared downward, drumming his fingers against his arm, and finally raised a hand to his chin.

“You have five students?” Byakuya asked without looking up. Koichi lifted his head a fraction.

“Would you like to see them in action?” asked Jin. “We’ve brought them with us, so we can provide a demonstration of our work. If you got the Green Widower, Bloodhound and your assistant together, we can show them off in a friendly spar.”

For a few seconds, Touko noted down what was being said, but when her mind caught up to the present, she tensed violently and jerked her head up.

“Don’t make such demands!” Touko snapped, gripping her pen tightly. “I don’t fight. I can’t fight. I won’t fight. That’s not - ”

“Fine,” said Byakuya. He met their eyes calmly. “Let’s go somewhere more spacious. There’s an abandoned factory just outside of the city that will be sufficient.”

Touko squealed, jumped up, slapped her clipboard against her legs, and bowed so deeply that her braids flopped down and smacked the floor. “I’ll be r-right there!”

She held her position. Kokichi scratched his temple.

Jin blinked a few times before saying, “That was a quick change of heart.”

Her body straightened.

“That’s not it. My heart is always with Byakuya-sama, you see,” explained Touko, hugging her clipboard.

Koichi cracked a grin. Byakuya continued gazing into space.

*****

Up until a few years ago, the building that Touko, Byakuya and everyone else walked into used to be a clothing factory until a fire devastated it, killing tens of people. She had woken up here once before, some time after the tragedy, and she had left in a daze. To some, that might have sounded shocking, but this sort of thing used to be a regular occurrence for her. Above their heads loomed a network of support beams, the blue metal discoloured by heat and with rust in places. The factory consisted of two floors, but the upper floor had been particularly ravaged and mostly destroyed, so much of the grubby arched roof was viewable. Streaks of light seeped through misshapen holes and crevices, and dust particles danced ring o’ roses in the spotlights.

A low whistle blew behind them. Touko turned and as she expected, Koichi had let off that sound. He cradled the back of his neck as he inspected their surroundings with Jin, who permanently looked like he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time. With them were the five students that they claimed to have. They all wore a uniform appropriate for gym class, comprising of sneakers, a white t-shirt and navy unisex long-legged shorts. Two of the girls came to an expected height for people in their late teens or early twenties, a male fitted a standard height for those like him, and the last two, a woman and a man, surpassed their companions’ heights, but only the woman was taller than Byakuya. Just one of the girls was shorter than Touko.

“So these are the runts, huh?” asked Bloodhound, shorter than two of the five. He cracked his knuckles and showed off his teeth wolfishly. “You got their parents’ consent forms on ya? Extra packs of diapers?”

“They’re all around the same age as your boss,” Koichi pointed out while a few of the students glared, though the others seemed equally unamused, but Bloodhound blanked Koichi, eyeing the students like they were helpings on a platter.

The tallest male, who had a brown pompadour that had gone out of fashion before people even knew about the existence of NEXT, strained to keep his composure, hiking up one end of his mouth in a tight, lopsided smirk.

“These are the guys we’re meant to be beating up?” asked the male. “Their hips will probably break if we breathe out too much air near them. This feels like elder abuse.”

Green Widower jolted his head back like he just received an electric shock, features asymmetrical, while Bloodhound’s jaw clenched and his cheeks began to fill with pink.

“Remember, you’re representing our school,” warned Jin, but Byakuya apparently didn’t share this complaint in regards to his own heroes. He turned to Byakuya with the closest to a smile that he had given so far. “I’ll let our students introduce themselves. Shall we give them some space?”

Jin held his hands behind his back and without waiting for an answer or even acknowledgement, he retreated to one of the walls. Byakuya and Koichi did the same, standing themselves either side of him.

“You may begin,” said Jin.

The two groups of NEXT faced each other.

“Three against five?” said Green Widower, oozing a grin. “That’s not fair on you guys, is it? You’d need at least double our number to suffer a defeat that isn’t humiliating.”

Touko hesitated, but it didn’t take her long to count to three. Chills drenched her. Right. She had agreed to join in. Still, her first instinct was to run for cover or cower, but her legs wouldn’t budge and other than trembling, her body wouldn’t respond. The first person to move was the shortest woman, who leaped into the air with her hands above her head.

At the peak of her jump, the woman tilted so she was upside down, and she plummeted downward with her arms still stretched out beyond her head. Touko and her teammates braced themselves, but the woman didn’t go near them and dived into the ground like one would dive into a swimming pool.

Exactly like that. Her body glowed a gentle blue as the ground swallowed her whole, leaving behind no crumbs, no splatter. The trio squinted at the ground, while their opponents’ countenance didn’t change at all.

“W-Where did she go?” asked Touko, squeezing her hands together tightly.

Bloodhound sniffed ungraciously. His face remained screwed.

“I can’t smell her,” he said, and moments later, a large diamond crashed into him. He rolled several times. Touko shrieked and bent forward with her hands on her head.

The diamond didn’t bounce or tumble like Bloodhound. It hovered for a moment where it had smashed into Bloodhound and then transformed into the tallest of the men, the one with the pompadour. When he landed, small clouds of dust poofed by his feet, and he gritted his teeth, but he wasn’t in pain - the corners of his lips twisted upward.

Green Widower gasped and staggered over to Bloodhound with a hand extended, but then the woman who had vanished shot up from the ground just in front of Green Widower, and she dealt a punch to the underside of his chin.

He stumbled back with a yelp, and losing his balance, he fell down with an additional squawk.

“Impressed?” Jin asked Byakuya at the edge of the factory.

Byakuya’s smooth features were unreadable. Jin turned back to watch the fight.

Touko looked this way and that, hugging herself. Bloodhound had returned to his feet and thrown himself into a fistfight with the pompadour guy, who was able to turn parts of his body into diamond, ideal for punches and body parts that he predicted Bloodhound would aim at. Both exchanged heated cuss words between huffs as their strikes whooshed and thudded.

Nearby, Green Widower dodged the next attack from the woman who could flit in and out of the ground as she pleased like it was water. He swung a fist at the woman and caught her on the cheek. She tottered to the side and before she could recover from the first hit, Green Widower continued on his onslaught, dealing blow after blow, and though he lacked Bloodhound’s raw power and ferverence, his fighting style involved a lot of unpredictable movements, almost like he was breakdancing, his limbs jutting at strange angles as he glided from one stance to the next, sometimes striking, sometimes feigning. On top of that, or maybe partly due to that, the woman seemed to be in a stunned state, mesmerized, and she only managed to clumsily block some of his attacks until she fell onto the ground, not into it.

The remaining three students had been standing back up to this point. One of the women had long violet hair and wore dark purple gloves, while the other had scraggly white hair and leathery skin. Despite her appearance, the woman with white hair didn’t seem older than the others, and her hair thrashed against her back as she rushed over to Green Widower. She wasn’t just tall but wide as well, yet despite her heavy footsteps, she didn’t emit a single sound. Therefore, she was able to reach Green Widower without him hearing her approach, and she kicked his back hard. He was tossed through the air like a ragdoll and smacked painfully into a wall.

With Green Widower down at least for the time being, Bloodhound preoccupied with his own fight and Touko keeping to herself, the woman with white hair dropped to one knee next to the woman able to swim through solid matter, and she cupped the back of the smaller woman’s head, gently lifting it, while her other held her companion’s hand.

“Are you all right, Asahina?” asked the white-haired woman. She brought her head closer, causing her hair to brush against the cheek of who could only be Asahina, the white hair standing out starkly against Asahina’s skin.

“I’m fine,” said Asahina, her dark hair tied back in a ponytail. A paperclip kept her fringe in check. The white-haired woman smiled softly and helped Asahina up.

Touko turned away from them and watched the other fight taking place. Bloodhound reeled back and looked past his opponent. He spotted the downed Green Widower.

“Yuusuke!” he bellowed, and he sprinted over even though the man with the pompadour was more than able to continue their brawl. Bloodhound’s footsteps pounded and he pulled back his fist, growling, but halfway there, he was ripped from the ground by an invisible force.

The shorter of the two men had his arm stretched forward, and as he slowly raised it, Bloodhound elevated too. All Bloodhound could do was cycle his legs uselessly through the air, only able to make small movements side-to-side as he squirmed. His captor had a very serious face. Between his thick eyebrows, his skin puckered, and his red eyes were absolutely focused.

No matter how much Bloodhound flailed, he couldn’t break free, and the man with the pompadour charged toward him, kicking off the ground on the way over. Mid flight, he changed into diamond, and he ploughed into Bloodhound. Both collided into the ground together.

Only the man with the pompadour rose afterwards.

He swaggered over to his teammates. Touko gripped herself tighter and her feet dragged as she shuffled backward. She made sure to keep everyone in her field of vision. Her body shook as she got out her compact mirror from under her clothes, dipping her hand down her neckline, and her eyes darted about frantically in search of a reflective surface.

Across the open room, the violet-haired woman who up to now had kept to the sidelines now finally strode forward. Blue light flickered across her body and she summoned an ogre three times as big as the white-haired woman.

The ogre fixed its eyes on Touko and ran toward her. Touko could have used her mirror to escape. She should have used her mirror to escape and gone far, far away from here. But Touko, who had barely any fighting experience, who had been hit too many times since she had been a child, froze up, and she watched the ogre’s fist sail toward her.

To her surprise, the ogre passed through Touko harmlessly, not pounding a hole in her like she expected, or leaving any mark. Not a single hair moved on her and her skirt didn’t flutter even once, but though she didn’t feel anything, she shrieked and blanched. Straight after, the white-haired woman tried to follow up with her own attack, but her fist stopped just short of Touko. There was a loud crack and the woman flipped back, landing beside her teammates. Blue electricity rippled in front of Touko across an otherwise invisible plane floating in front of her, rectangular and wide enough to shield Touko. It had almost certainly appeared there prior to the ogre’s attack.

Koichi and Jin stared for a short while, and then in unison, they turned to Byakuya.

His body glowed blue. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

“You’re a NEXT too?” Jin exclaimed.

Byakuya didn’t bother answering. He ran forward and positioned himself between Touko and the invisible shield, with his back toward her. The ogre leered down at them.

Touko trembled. Her legs wobbled. In a small voice, she said, “B-Byakuya-sama...”

“Don’t just stand there, you dolt,” he said. The ogre punched him, but its hand carried on going through him like it had done with Touko. He turned his head so she could see half of his face and added, “It’s an illusion. It can’t hurt you.”

“Right,” said Touko. Next to Byakuya, she felt calmer and safe, and was torn between swooning and passing out with relief.

Asahina balled her hands into fists.

“Kirigiri-chan’s powers might be illusions, but ours aren’t!” Asahina cried out.

She dived into the ground, and she wasn’t the only one on the move. The pompadour guy lowered his head, like a bull about to gallop forward, and his male companion began to glow blue.

Like Bloodhound, Touko started to drift upward due to an unseeable force created by the man with the thick eyebrows. Byakuya hurled out his arm and launched a spray of invisible shards at him, each individual one smaller than the plane that he summoned before. In order to avoid them, the male had to sacrifice his concentration, and Touko was freed. Her feet returned to the ground. Some of the shards fired by Byakuya sliced the man’s skin, and he cringed and touched a hand to a wound on his cheek.

Blood. Touko averted her eyes, feeling woozy. If she stared too long, she would faint, and if she fainted, her other self would take over, and Touko didn’t want that. She couldn’t let that happen. Her desire to protect Byakuya hardened her resolve.

Byakuya activated his powers and formed a shield beneath him and Touko. He levitated it with them on it, lifting them off the ground, and Touko drew closer to his side.

Asahina emerged from the ground underneath them, but by then they had risen high enough that she couldn’t reach them even by jumping. Despite being able to swim through solid matter, she seemed unable to fly. Her fingers couldn’t even skim the platform, and she winced when she touched down again. Though Green Widower had been defeated, Asahina hadn’t left their fight unscathed.

The white-haired woman squatted and then leaped up. She was able to attain a height much greater than Asahina, but when she threw a punch at them, her fist rammed into something solid.

A wave of blue light swept through the transparent flat surface between her and the other two. Byakuya had generated another barrier. It didn’t break, dent or even shake, and the woman swooped back down to join the others on the ground. The man with the thick eyebrows turned his attention onto the pompadour guy, and he floated him over to Touko and Byakuya, suspending him in mid-air above them.

When he was high enough, the man with the thick eyebrows released him. During the fall, the man with the pompadour changed into diamond, but even someone with his hardness rebounded off the barrier without doing it any damage. Touko watched the man revert back to normal as he fell. She shivered. Byakuya had surrounded himself and Touko with barriers from all sides in a box structure, but though they had protected themselves from their opponents, they couldn’t safely leave either. They had reached a deadlock.

“Can you see any reflective surfaces?” muttered Byakuya.

Touko raised a hand to her forehead and studied the factory. Places that the Sun didn’t touch were as dark and dull as her outfit, and she shook her head. Even if she could travel to another area in the factory, all she would be able to provide was a distraction, and against five opponents, that wouldn’t help because with their number, they could deal with more than one person at a time. Maybe if Green Widower and Bloodhound were up, then they could have come up with a plan, but they showed no signs of rejoining the battle.

The woman with white hair picked up Asahina. Her palm cushioned Aoi’s behind, and she drew back her arm, readying a throw.

They didn’t know if Asahina could travel through barriers, but now was a bad time to find out.

Slow claps echoed from the side of the room. Touko and Byakuya turned, and so did the students. Asahina remained in the palm of the woman with white hair.

Jin lowered his hands and strolled over. Koichi sauntered toward them with his hands in his pockets. Both grinned.

“I hope that taster whetted your appetite,” said Jin. He didn’t shout, but the large room carried his voice. His violet eyes stared up at them. Touko noted that they were same colour as the eyes of the girl with violet hair who could create illusions.

Someone groaned nearby. The sound came from Green Widower. He raised his head groggily.

“These students and more would represent your company,” said Jin, not breaking eye contact with Byakuya. In the background, the man with the pompadour dabbed a handkerchief against the cheek of the man with thick eyebrows. “We would also be happy to have Green Widower and Bloodhound help train the new recruits, and our training wouldn’t be just for those we take on... but for the four of you too.”

“I’m not a fighter,” grumbled Touko, but Byakuya was holding his chin thoughtfully as he gazed down at Jin.

Green Widower limped over to Bloodhound and helped him up. Both were conscious.

“Togami, you were incredible,” said Jin. “And with us, we could unlock your full potential.”

Touko bristled.

“I’m here too!” she said, but she couldn’t disagree with Jin. “And of course Byakuya-sama was incredible. It’s a given, right? He’s perfect.”

She fidgeted, beaming widely, well aware of her face warming and unashamed of it.

Koichi gave a short laugh.

“Fukawa-chan’s not too shabby either. We’ve seen her on Hero TV,” said Koichi. He winked and whipped a hand out of his pocket to point up at Touko. “Her form-fitting non-glitzy outfit stands out, and she has a useful power too. After hearing some interviews - ” - which Touko rarely gave, so at least some of those must have been with other people - “I think ‘Kaleidoscope’ would be a good crimefighter name. And Togami-san could be Barrikuya.”

Touko pulled a face.

“I’m not a superhero,” she reminded everyone, but she fizzled out when Byakuya shot an icy look at her. He turned back to Jin and swished a hand.

“That name is stupid, but I suppose I can hear out the finer details of your proposal over dinner,” Byakuya drawled.

Jin’s previous smiles were up for interpretation, but this one was definite, and he bowed. “You won’t regret it, Togami.”

Byakuya finally lowered the barrier carrying him and Touko to the ground, and when he took a step forward, he revealed that the other barriers had disappeared too. Asahina slipped onto her friend’s shoulder. Bloodhound and Green Widower hobbled over with their arms around each other.

The man who could turn into diamond faced them. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Um... Sorry about all that. I get carried away when I’m fighting sometimes.”

Bloodhound sneered with a bloody nose. Touko wished he would clean himself, or at the very least get his husband to do it for him.

“If I were a few years younger...” He trailed off. The tension in Bloodhound’s face faded and he broke into a grin. “But today’s today, yeah? And this is nothing a little time in a healing pod won’t fix. You’re not bad, kiddo. You’ve got potential. You all do.”

He gave them a thumbs up and guffawed. Then he had a coughing fit. Green Widower looked at him worriedly, and only once Bloodhound recomposed himself did Green Widower relax a bit.

“Thanks,” said the pompadour-bearing guy, equally cheerful, and he returned Bloodhound’s gesture by thrusting up his thumb. “Hey, Togami, how’s about I buy us all a round of beer? My treat. We did a number on your heroes and I know we didn’t land a hit on you or your girlfriend, but she looked pretty freaked out, and I feel kinda bad about that.”

Toward the end of his offer, the man’s face darkened a little, though he maintained his smile. A muscle jumped in Byakuya’s cheek but he said nothing back.

“G-Girlfriend!” Touko said, hands over her heart. Bloodhound ignored her.

“Are you even old enough to drink?” Bloodhound asked.

“Don’t make me give you another thrashing,” responded the man with the pompadour but without any malice, and they both burst out laughing.

Asahina turned to the white-haired woman, who shrugged. The one with violet hair folded her arms over her chest and the man with thick eyebrows tilted his head to one side.

“I’m done here,” said Byakuya. He adjusted his glasses and marched toward the doors leading out of the factory. Touko hurried after him.

Koichi cupped a hand beside his mouth and craned his neck. “So that’s dinner and beer, right? Is tonight good?”

“Tonight is fine,” said Byakuya, not wavering in his pace.

Touko and Byakuya continued on in silence, but just before they arrived at the doors, Byakuya stopped, and Touko halted abruptly right after.

“One more thing.” Byakuya whipped his head around. His eyes narrowed. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

He grabbed her left wrist and raised her arm, to better show off the ring on one of fingers.

“She’s my fiancée.”

#TogaFuka #pinlc-candy #danganronpa #touko fukawa #byakuya togami #2018 #fanfiction

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thedrakkenclaw · 6 years

Text

…

...Everything is hazy…

...can’t move…can’t focus…

-----------------------------------

Izuku’s eyes snapped open at the chattering of a cheerful girl’s voice.

“...and it made me wonder, ‘what kind of magic would I have if I were a drak?’”

“It’s certainly an intriguing idea,” a more masculine voice stated. “I wonder if the drak are limited to the four states of matter, or if their categories of magic are deeper than that.”

Izuku look and felt around himself. He was caged in from all sides; a thick layer of glass on all sides of him but up, where a heavy metal grate lied fastened instead, and was wearing a dark blue jumper lined with bold red and white stripes - am I wearing a UA jumpsuit? Fluorescent lights hummed above him and linoleum tiles swamped the floor underneath. There was a persistent fuzziness in his head that was threatening to lull him back to sleep, but he was also consumed by a familiar panic that left him unable to rest, because he’d been-

Trapped.

By humanids, of all things, based on the room he’s being kept in. It’s not that drak couldn’t have relations with humanids per se, but in the past humanids have tried to use them for power games and take advantage of them for any number of reasons, and threaten death if they disobeyed. Since drak were generally nonviolent, reclusion on their part was only natural.

That was what his mom had told him, anyways.

He looked out again and tried to take in his surroundings. The girl’s voice probably belonged to the (cute) brunette elf with a bob, while the more stilted male voice likely belonged to the tall, broad-shouldered human standing next to her. The room was stocked with desks that were mostly uninhabited save for those two, and… Kacchan, and a couple of others who were mostly keeping quiet: an elf with rich yellow hair, the other a dark-haired human with curious-looking earlobes. Are those audio jacks…?

“So you’ve finally decided to join us, Deku?” Kacchan had gotten up right next to the glass, his voice grinding against Izuku’s ears. “And here I thought you’d done yourself in, idiot. Do yourself a favor and grow a spine.”

“Bakugou, knock it off!” The brunette almost yelled, “it’s only just waking up!”

“‘Cause your screeching’s really helping it a lot,” he sneered and pointed at Izuku. “Anyways, you’re at UA under our watch, so don’t do anything stupid,” his palms lit up with explosive little pops of heat, “or else. You’re to answer to us, and the better you do that, the better we’ll treat you. Got it?” He turned around and waddled off, muttering something like “stupid Deku…” as Izuku confirmed that he was, in fact, wearing a UA jumpsuit.

The door slammed behind him and signaled to the brunette to rise from her seat, and she hopped over towards the glass separating them. “Sorry about Bakugou,” she sighed, “he’s got a bit of a temper. Though… he said you two knew each other as kids? That’s really fascinating. What did you think of him?” She paused, an expression of thought blinking on, then off of her face. “I mean, you must still remember him, since you showed up the other night.”

He was tempted to respond to her since she seemed so earnest, but the fact that he was trapped in a cage and that she seemed to have some semblance of having worked for this situation, he thought better than to indulge. Instead, he just looked up at her face, trying to read her eyes. Brown, just like her hair.

“Uraraka, we don’t know what that drak’s capable of. Talking to it may not be the best idea,” the tall human from before said. Uraraka turned towards him as he continued, “His magic may be more mental or emotional; some legends did have drak with those abilities.”

“Those drak were also supposedly ancient,” Uraraka retorted. “Bakugou said this drak’s our age.” She spun to face Izuku again, who hadn’t moved in the slightest since. “Hey, are you stressed? I’m sorry. If I were in charge of this project, we wouldn’t’ve captured you at all in the first place.”

“We wouldn’t even have a chance of getting it to talk if we didn’t capture it,” came a voice from the girl with the funky ears. “Besides, we’re getting information from it whether or not it responds verbally.”

Izuku panicked a bit at that. This was about information? Why would they need to capture him to get information? It’s true that humanids weren’t certain that drak even existed, but it’s not like drak had some agreement to withhold information from them - there’s just not that many drak, that’s all it is. That, and drak were often exploited, but if it’s just information they’re after…

“Isn’t this a bit much?”

All eyes were on him in an instant and he wanted to disappear.

“Oh, so it can talk,” the honey-haired boy spoke up. “I was getting worried it was, like, mute, or something.”

The tall boy approached the glass and made direct eye contact with Izuku. “This is UA High, the m-”

“-most prestigious Hero educational facility in all of Japan,” Izuku finished for him, monotone. “I know what UA is; Kacchan used to show me all sorts of humanid stuff back then.”

A few voices murmured, “Humanid…?” before Izuku could even realize his mistake - he’d answered a question he hadn’t been asked. Stupid impulse, you don’t need to explain yourself to people like that. Especially not when they’ve got you under lock and key. It wasn’t the end of the world, though, if they’d focused more on humanid, the catch-all for non-drak peoples, more than the actual statement he’d made-

“And you remember it now? That’s impressive,” said the boy. God dammit.

“Weren’t you just telling us that we shouldn’t be talking to it?” Ear-girl again. “Between stopping us from running in the dorms with your Quirk going nuts and this, you really are horrible at taking your own advice,” she chided.

The human staggered before he sputtered out, “W-well, between Uraraka’s reasoning and the drak’s inaction, I figured that it must be- it must be relatively safe to engage.”

This banter continued amongst them for a while, and Izuku eventually learned the tall boy’s name was Iida, “ear-girl” was Jirou, and the honey-headed boy was Kaminari. Jirou and Kaminari’s personalities clashed, Jirou consistently at Kaminari’s throat, but they were also complementary in some ways; perhaps they’d known one another for a while? Iida was a straight-edge, by-the-books sort of guy who apparently had little self awareness in the heat of the moment, though for him it seemed hindsight was 20/20. Uraraka lingered behind after the other three left together, Izuku making out the words “study” and “test tomorrow” as they walked through the door.

“So… Deku is your name?” The sound of Uraraka’s voice on its lonesome cut through his concentration and brought him back to the reality of the situation.

“It’s an interesting name,” she continued after he kept quiet. “Like a puppet? Are you an actor?”

He let out a quiet snort. Sure, whatever. Just going to ignore the fact that it’s an insult flat-out, then? What kind of drak culture does she think I deal with?

“It sounds sort of sweet, like dekiru! You can do it!”

“That wasn’t what Kacchan had in mind when he came up with it,” he mumbled, mostly to himself.

“‘Kacchan?’ Oh, that’s adorable!”

Izuku thought back to what Jirou had said about him being there for information, and it being provided whether or not he spoke, and mentally slapped himself on the wrist for not noticing the microphone sewn into his shirt’s turtleneck. After he picked up on that detail and felt it between his fingertips, he began to think about what other devices were planted on him... what else they could’ve been monitoring.

“Was he a nice guy back then?” She had a fanciful look on her face and her eyes weren’t focused on him - she was picturing something in her mind, probably a younger version of Kacchan. He read into them again, taking in the color of her irises, and, focusing on her person, settled into her mindscape with his signature subtlety to try and figure out what her angle was.

The first thing he noticed was that the younger version of Kacchan she’d envisioned was too volatile, and not nearly as proud nor cocky as he truly was. Izuku was quick to rectify that for her; his own memories could easily fill the gaps her imagination left for him.

He could see her intent, and must’ve subconsciously decided he could trust her as he told her, silent and direct, “We were friends, once. Before his Quirk manifested. My mom and his enjoyed the other’s company, so they would meet up and bring us along.” As he explained, the mental image he created shifted to match his story. “He always wanted to be the best hero, and he was always good at everything he tried! I wanted to be a hero, but I… wasn’t as good at things. He’d laugh at me for it, but it wasn’t until his Quirk manifested that he started to, uh…”

Izuku didn’t vocalize what happened at this point. He just showed his memories, which were more emotional and painful than they were sensory, until the last and particularly vivid memory wound itself up.

The cool spring air burned in his lungs, full of floral perfumes in the forest where he and Kacchan had met after school ended. Kacchan had heard Izuku calling out to him, asking to play, but when Kacchan finally succumbed and followed him to their clearing, he screamed, “My dad told me to stop hanging out with you, ‘cause you’re a freak!”

Izuku cocked his head at that, but didn’t respond. Kacchan gets angry a lot, and he didn’t want to provoke him if he didn’t have to.

“You… you’re a drak, aren’t you? My dad told me you’d kill me someday if I kept hanging out with you, so fuck off! I never want to see you again!” And with that, Kacchan put his palm, drenched in sweat, up to Izuku’s stomach, and let loose a spectacular explosion.

“I don’t remember anything after that, and I don’t remember seeing him after that either,” Izuku hummed, “until I was captured and brought here from the same clearing. I… don’t know why I still went there, as if I expected to see him or something. Maybe it just smells nice,” Izuku quietly laughed.

“Oh…” is all Uraraka could say.

“I know you’re going to tell all your friends,” Izuku said. “You can tell all sorts of stories about me if you really want to, but Jirou said that you’d captured me for the sake of gathering information, right? Tell her I’m not a stickler, and that I’d have been willing to talk if I weren’t trapped in a glass box.

“I don’t know why Kacchan turned on me so violently back then, but… if his dad really did tell him that, I can’t blame him for it. I can’t blame any humanids, really, and wanting more information is… well, I’m always thirsting for a bit more knowledge myself, so who am I to judge? I’m just… scared. I don’t know what you intend to do with me, and I’m scared you’ll hurt me, or try to find my mom or my dad and hurt them. It’s stupid on my part, honestly-”

“Do you ever stop monologuing?” Uraraka’s impatient physical voice rang out and cut him off from her mind entirely. “I get that you’re suspicious and you have every right to be - even if we don’t mean any harm, that doesn’t mean people with the information we gather couldn’t be malicious - but I’m going to do everything in my power to help you feel safe here.

“And… you said you wanted to be a hero, right?” Izuku nodded. “You’re at the right place for it, you know! Maybe you could watch our class some days.”

Across the room, the door crept open and Iida’s head poked through, saying, “Uraraka, it’s time to go. We were headed out to get a bite to eat, remember?” Uraraka jumped to her feet, scurrying out the door, and Izuku was alone.

He figured that it’d probably be a good idea to feel around his jumpsuit for more devices, to get an idea of how closely he was being monitored. All this stuff must be wireless. It’s a pretty impressive setup, actually; too bad it makes me super uncomfortable.

It didn’t take long for him to find that some of the monitors were attached directly to his skin instead of sitting in the fabric, so he slid the top off over his head and examined himself again. Probably detects heart rate and breathing, he thought, noting a selection of buttons taped on his chest. Others were stuck to his arms and a good several on his head and horns, and using the glass on the cage as a mirror as best he could, he could see several were stuck to his back as well. His wings had only a couple, and his tail had several as well - they’re probably just checking to see if the tail has anything unusual in it or something. Most humanids don’t have tails, he reminded himself.

At the thought of taking his pants off to check underneath that layer too, he became incredibly uneasy at the realization that he was stripped down to, at most, his underwear… but he had his doubts; they were doing it for information, after all. He stole a glance under his pants for a fraction of a second and his fears were proven correct. At least they had the decency to do it while I was unconscious - wait, no, that’s even worse! He hid his face in his arms and tried to shake off this bout of anxiety. It’s not about you, it’s because they’re trying to research drak, they weren’t trying to be invasive towards you - but… but why couldn’t they just ask me first? He curled in on himself a little tighter, and stayed that way for a good while before pulling the top back over his head and resolving not to think too hard about it.

He fails miserably at not thinking too hard about it, but once the image of Bakugou stripping him came to mind he shook his head hard and waved his arms around and tried to just focus on All Might. Just relax, calm down, pretend All Might’s got your back and helping you out of a pinch, I swear to god you can’t be going crazy just because you got knocked out and dragged away by some humanids, stop freaking out right now or you’ll never get out of here just shut up and stop thinking about it imagine All Might sitting next to you and telling you to go to sleep and letting go of this place to go to sleep go to sleep go to sleep

go to sleep

...

#1 #the drakken claw #bnha #bnha au #bnha fic #midoriya izuku #uraraka ochako #as of 5/28 i have edited the writing some in the original document but for now i'm not going to change this post.#not yet anyways ;;

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sandcreekfarm · 3 years

Text

Top 7 Best Portable Generator For Home & Farm Use Reviews (2021 Updated)

Power outages result from sudden lightning strikes, thick ice buildups, or high wind. While waiting for the utility crews to come and restore the service, you should have the best portable generator for home & farm use on hand to run farm machines, tools, and heaters during a power outage.

Choosing a portable generator is not a matter of convenience but also security and safety. Therefore, I have collected my detailed reviews on the top 7 best-rated portable generators that you can use for your home and farm purposes.

Top 7 Best Portable Generator For Home & Farm Use 2021

Product ImageProduct NameFeaturesPrice Jackery Explorer 500 Portable Power StationBest OverallSee latest Price Jackery Explorer 1000 Portable Solar GeneratorImpressive Endurance & Massive CapacitySee latest Price Generac 7117 Gp2200I W 50St InverterBest PriceSee latest Price Honda EU3000IS Portable Home Gas Power GeneratorQuite & Substantial ConstructionSee latest Price Westinghouse WGen3600DF Dual Fuel Portable GeneratorOutstanding RuntimeSee latest Price Westinghouse WGen9500 Heavy Duty Portable GeneratorSee latest Price DuroMax XP12000EH Portable Generator-12000Best DurabilitySee latest Price

In-depth 7 Top Rated Portable Generators For Farm Use Reviews

1. Jackery Explorer 500 Portable Power Station – Best Overall

Check Latest Price on Amazon.com

If you are looking for a generator that runs on battery power, Jackery Explorer 500 is a reliable choice for home and agriculture use. This generator has a total wattage of 518Wh, which can power many appliances like lamps, TV, cooling fan, mini-fridge.

Despite its superpower, it has the size of a basketball with the dimensions of 11.84 x 7.59 x 9.2 inches and a weight of 13.3 pounds, allowing you to transport it side to side or store it easily with its sturdy top handle.

The best part of this temporary electricity supply is that it supports pass-through charging. Its Battery Management System ensures each appliance is charged individually. Thus, you can maintain both appliances’ performance and battery life cycle.

Another reason that I picked Jackery Explorer 500 as my ‘cream of the crop’ for portable generators is that it has an environmentally conscious design. This generator runs on a Lithium-ion battery pack instead of gasoline, diesel, or propane.

This green fuel type helps you avoid infrequent power usage problems, but there are no gas emissions in operation. Thus, you can use this power pack indoors on brutal snowfalls or rainfalls without any health risks.

This Jackery generator provides 3 ways of charging, via an AC wall outlet (within 7.5 hours), from a carport (within 16 hours). You can also connect this generator with a cheap Jackery Solar Saga 100W solar panel to gain natural power from the sun and fully charge it within 9.5 hours. The solar panel is not included in this product package.

Pros Cons

3 ways of charging – solar panel

Size of a basketball; lightweight for easy carrying and storage

Not suitable for appliances with the running wattage above 500W

2. Jackery Explorer 1000 Portable Solar Generator – Impressive Endurance & Massive Capacity

Check Latest Price on Amazon.com

This portable Jackery generator is twice powerful as the above Jackery Explorer 500. It comes with 2 SolarSage 100 solar panels with a built-in MPPT Charge Controller for efficient solar charging.

It can complete charging in just 8 hours of full sun, allowing you to enjoy limitless solar power for no extra fees and maintenance effort.

This generator features a 1002Wh Lithium-ion battery with 1000W continuous and 2000W surge power capacity. Therefore, it is suitable for most higher-power home and farm electrical appliances.

According to the manufacturer, this portable electricity supply can maintain a microwave oven for 45 minutes, a light bulb in 76 hours, and an electric grill in 50 minutes. You can count your device’s working time using the formula:

Working time =1002Wh * 0.85/operating power of your device.

Unlike traditional generators, Jackery 1000 runs on renewable energy from the sun. It can operate quietly and creates almost no noise and emissions. You can while maintaining clean and fresh air both indoors and outdoors.

Moreover, Jackery 1000 is made from durable materials for an extended lifetime. The solar panels are made of ETFE (Ethylene tetrafluoroethylene), a fluorine-based plastic used in agricultural and architectural projects. This material provides a light transmittance and a longer life cycle in harsh weather conditions.

Pros Cons

Include 2 SolarSaga 100 solar panels; built-in MPPT Charge Controller

Multiple output ports for many devices

Quiet operation

2-year warranty

The solar panels can’t be put outsides in inclement weather

3. Generac 7117 Gp2200I W 50St Inverter – Best Price

Check Latest Price on Amazon.com

One of the advantages of Generac 7117 is the option to connect two inverter generators to run in parallel and double your power – 4,400 starting watts and up to 3,230 running watts.

The difference between using two Generac 7117 and using a bigger generator is that you can put less strain on the engine. In other words, you can connect these two generators only when you need them, not all the time.

This inverter Generac generator is more affordable than Honda models and very compact and easy to use. The built-in top handle makes it easy to transport to your working area or store it after use. You can quickly start the machine in a few seconds, thanks to the integrated OFF/RUN/CHOKE knob.

Generac G2200I features the signature Generac’s True Power Technology with under 5% total harmonic distortion. This best-in-class power quality ensures a smooth operation for your sensitive tech gadgets, home appliances, and farm tools.

You can turn on Economy Mode to save your fuel and reduce noise while extending the generator’s runtime when not in use.

Since this Generac generator runs on gasoline, it is more potent than those above battery-powered models. Its 1.2-gallon fuel tank allows this engine to run 10.75 hours at 25% load and 7 hours at 50% load.

On the engine’s body, there is a LED status light to let you know when to refill oil, overload, and power.

Pros Cons

Long run time (up to 10.75 hours at 25% load)

Quieter than conventional generators

True Power technology for sensitive gadgets and appliances

Affordable

Eco mode doesn’t perform well at higher loads

The parallel kit is not included in the product package

4. Honda EU3000IS Portable Home Gas Power Generator – Quite & Substantial Construction

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Honda EU3000IS is one of the best 3,000-watt inverter generators on the market. Although it is at a much higher price tag than conventional generators, it’s much quieter and substantial construction. If you have experienced Honda farm machines before, this Honda generator won’t disappoint you!

One of the reasons this top-notch generator won so much reputation from landowners and farmers is its sturdy build and the well-known original Honda engine.

First, it has a durable frame of 100% steel that stands still against all harsh weather elements.

Besides, it features a 4-stroke Honda engine, enabling it to deliver 2,800 running watts of power. It is a reliable choice to run all your major home appliances in a power outage. For example, you can run an RV 15,000 BTU air conditioner with this generator.

Due to its superpower, this portable generator is quite heavy (131 pounds) and hard to move around unless you buy an additional set of wheels. Although some people might not be happy with its weight, I think it’s the price I have to pay for its solid steel construction.

Additionally, it is not the quietest model on the market, but not too annoying with a noise level of only 49dB at 25% load and 58dB at 100% load.

Pros Cons

Original Honda engine

Durable steel frame

High fuel efficiency thanks to the Honda’s Eco-Throttle system

Quite heavy; need to use an additional set of wheels (sold separately) for transportation

Expensive

5. Westinghouse WGen3600DF Dual Fuel Portable Generator – Outstanding Runtime

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This 3600-watt generator from Westinghouse provides dependable backup power with its 212cc four-stroke OHV engine. The four-stroke engine has an outstanding runtime of 13.5 hours at 50% load. This engine, along with cast iron sleeves and overhead valves, is one of the most robust you can find on a portable power generator.

This dual-fuel Westinghouse generator offers you two fuel options – gasoline and propane. Propane (or LPG) is more stable than gasoline and leaves no stale or gummy deposits in infrequent uses.

However, if you have to use this generator to perform your daily lawn jobs, you can use only gasoline for lower operation costs and extreme potency.

Westinghouse is known for building rugged generators, and WGen3600DF is not an exception. When using gasoline, this dual-fuel generator boasts 3,600W of constant running power and has a peak surge/starting wattage of 4,650W. On propane, it offers a lower current of 3,240 rated watts and 4,650 peak watts.

Pros Cons

Dual-fuel – gasoline or propane

Outstanding runtime of 13.5 hours (50% load)

Automatic Low Oil shutdown

No specific complaints

6. Westinghouse WGen9500 Heavy Duty Portable Generator

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WGen9500 is my second pick from Westinghouse but runs solely on gasoline.

This gasoline-powered generator is the most affordable option for anyone considering a 9,500W portable power generator appropriate for residential and farm power requirements. This engine meets the EPA and CARB standards for producing less harmful emissions and toxins.

This generator offers you a heavy-duty 457cc four-stroke OHV engine with a 6.6-gallon tank that can run continuously for a maximum of 12 hours to maintain your major appliances, like an air conditioner, refrigerator, and sump pump. There are rubber covers on all outlets to prevent electric shocks.

Starting this gasoline-powered engine is easy as pie with a dependable electric start system. You can get it to start or stop with a single push of a button.

Plus, you don’t have to go outside under the hard snowfall to start the machine since it features the remote start key. You can turn on/off the generator from up to 260 feet away from your home.

Pros Cons

Electric Start Push-Button and remote start key for convenient on/off

Powerful 457cc four-stroke OHV engine with a maximum runtime of 12 hours

Two Transfer Switch types – 14-30R/30A and 14-50R/50A

The lights on the control panel sometimes don’t work properly

7. DuroMax XP12000EH Portable Generator-12000 – Best Durability

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The biggest advantage of DuroMax XP12000EH is that it offers dual-fuel capabilities. That means you can operate it on both liquid propane and gasoline and switch between these two options in a blink.

So not only can this strong plus lower your running costs, but it can extend its runtime when the power outage lasts for several days, and there might be a lack of gasoline supply in your area.

Another strong plus of this dual-fuel generator is that you can choose to operate it at both 120V and 240V simultaneously or maximize its power from each 120V receptacle with full capacity.

The control panel includes two 120V/20-amp outlets, one 120/240V 30-amp outlet, one 120V/30-amp twist-lock outlet, and a 50-amp outlet for the most high-powered needs.

Also, there is a DuroMax’s MX2 switch on this panel to double your 120V amperage for intense loads.

This Duromax portable power supply is also a practical choice for hardworking farmers or workers since it’s made of high-quality materials. Its full-metal construction with durable solid-fill wheels makes it your best companion on emergencies on farms and construction sites.

Besides, the power part of this generator is made of 100% copper windings, which are more durable and energy-saving than aluminum ones. All-copper windings are also quieter, with a noise level of 74dB.

Although this is not an ideal noise level for a quiet generator, I have seen some smaller generators with the same noise level or even worse.

Pros Cons

Dual-fuel capability

120V/240V power options

Full-metal construction

All-copper windings

Poor packaging

My Top Pick

When picking up a portable generator, you should list down your electric devices and the total wattage you need in a generator. Don’t try to power more than it can handle since the power overloading will break your generator.

Do any of these generators catch your eyes? If you need a clue, Jackery Explorer 500 has been my best portable generator for home & farm use for more than 3 years, and it still runs well.

This item is affordable and compact yet includes all the necessities I need to maintain my daily family activities and farm chores whenever the power goes out.

Source: Top 7 Best Portable Generator For Home & Farm Use Reviews (2021 Updated)

source https://sandcreekfarm.net/best-portable-generator-for-home-farm-use-reviews/

#sandcreekfarm farming livestock farmingmethod homestead

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bbalexb · 4 years

Text

Week 2 Onsite Learning

Wed 16th - Fri 18th Sep 2020

During my first week back in college I produced a series of mixed media outcomes in all three different lessons from materials like posca pens, fine liners, carbon paper and acrylic paint to natural objects/ forms, metal wire and watercolours.

On Wednesday (16th Sep) We firstly looked through our brief in person with Rachel who was there to help us out with any confusion or questions. The majority of the morning lesson was to do with looking into the artist our workshop for the day was based on ( Julia Sobdleva ) in order to get an understanding of her style of art and creation. A lot of her work is very ghostly, dark and dramatic as she whitens out the faces of people in photographs and magazines, this allows her to have a good starting point and transform the pieces into whatever aim she is hoping for. Although I myself am not into dark, creepy - ish art, I was intrigued by how she whitens the faces of people in her work. It does still give of a unsettling feel but also the idea of we are all as humans wearing masks on our faces and can sometimes be seen as ‘two faced’ revealing multiple personality's or hiding what is really underneath.

During the later part of the session, I proceeded to take inspiration from Julia’s work and imitate into my own style. I certainly wanted to maintain the appearance of the white faces, I also continued this on any other body parts that may have been visible in photographs from magazines we found imagery from. I took it upon myself to really highlight/ transform the magazine photographs into something my own with some Posca Pens in which I enjoy working with. Whether this meant colouring in the background, outlining certain body parts or surroundings, this then took my own spin on her classic and unusual style allowing me to add my own touch to it. In the end, I was pleased with my series of outcomes as it was a new style and experiment I think turned out very interesting yet still seeing my style come through to please me visually. I also continued working into these during part of my directed studies lesson in the afternoon.

Thursday 17th Sep

During the morning with Sophie, we looked at our assessment criteria and what it involves us to do whether it be studying a piece of art, talking about how i project relates to our specific audience for our illustrated books (final outcome) etc. Afterwards, as a class we all noted down spider diagrams into our journals about ‘Breaking Boundaries’ picking it apart and expanding from one thing to another e.g. country boundaries & boarders, personal struggle boundaries as well as rule breaking and more. I had already completed a diagram during my offsite week last week on Breaking Boundaries and what I felt it meant as one whole meaning and two separate meanings for both of the words. It was still enjoyable to see what other people and their minds came up with in regards to the subject on the meaning. Shortly afterwards, we as a class created a quick mind map of who are possible audiences could be for this project e.g. age group, gender, to do with specific peoples religion and beliefs as well as the educate and promote our messages. As well as looking into detail regarding the theme, Sophie presented to us three different artists who proceeded to showcase their messages whether it was to do with religion and change inside a culture who Sherine Neshat spoke about everything in her country and life as well as why and who she makes her art for in which this case was for the women of Iran to be able to have a voice and not fight violently with guns. Another was Marina Abramovuc who is a Russian artist that explores the mind of people on an emotional and mental connection just be sitting in an exhibit room, starting into peoples eyes and feeling how they feel. Some cried and felt relate the she wants to help and cares for them and some where just pleased to be in front of her at witness her presence. The last artist was Egon Shile who was our inspiration for the sessions work, looking into his continuing line drawing and portraits whilst adding in pops of colour to stand out.

For the Egon Shile inspired workshop, we had to find imagery from magazines and book (preferably whole length images of people) as use carbon paper to transfer the images onto paper whilst using his continuing line style of drawing. Although I completed one or two, I worked more back into these during the afternoon in directed studies as well as continuing to work back into my art from Rachels Lesson the previous day.

Friday 18th Sep

During Craig’s session, I created a series of natural objects/ form drawings using all sorts of medias - pens, pencils, watercolours, fine liners and Posca Pens. Some of the drawings I produced had an similar effect to Egon Shile’s work from the previous lesson in a way that I used his style of continuing line drawings to produce outcomes I was studying in front of me. Some drawings we large, some small, colour or B&W, overlapping each other as well as using different medias to result in various different outcomes. In class, we continued these drawing experimentations up until the afternoon so it was nice to really spend time working into them.

During the early part of the afternoon as a class, we briefly looked at how to study and analyse artist’s work more deeper looking into potential meanings, stories and scenarios that could be showcased. E.g. look at a woman standing beside her car left running with a shocked expression look at the sky with an night time/ early morning setting with fog could lead to so many questions. What is she looking at that makes her shocked? Has she just quickly got out of her car and seen something that caught her attention immediately? The dark setting and dim lighting with the fog atmosphere creates a mysterious setting. Things like that to really look into a deeper understanding, like people say, a picture can say 1000 words and is always results different ways everyone sees it.

For the remainder of the day, we still continued to work into drawings and create ink like backgrounds with blackberry juice resulting in a purple ink effect that we then left to dry and worked over the top of, especially looking great when I drew the blackberries over the top of the juice ink as it had given of the texture and pattern of the berry. Although we continued with drawings, I also created two mental wire 2D/3D like sculptures based on two of my drawings of any natural object/ form which in this case was an apple and a leaf. It was an easy task but very effective and interesting to see my drawing come to life in a new visual way that I was happy with the results.

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seaofvollyballs-blog · 6 years

Text

There were 6 Legendary. One Crew.

“Tell me it again! Please! Please! Please!” Hinata begged so egregiously that it was a wonder he could breathe. He clung to Asahi’s arm as he was set into the hammock for bed. The boy was the newest member of the Karasuno crew and as such he had yet to calm down from the big adventure endorphins. Asahi knew it was his job to settle in the youngsters before he’d join the others above deck for another Captain’s meeting. Daichi would surely not stand for any noise below deck and Asahi would get the brunt of blame. He couldn’t handle that. The responsibility, it was just so overwhelming. He could hear Noya cackling over his failures. “please! Please! PLEASE OH PLEAAAAASE!”

Asahi tried to quell him by putting a hand to his lips and shushing. Hinata was so much like Noya had been when Asahi had started onboard. That guy never stopped talking but in this case Asahi knew Hinata only saw the ship, the crew, and the action with big starstruck eyes. “Ok, ok, please just settle down. OK?” Asahi pretty much begged and Hinata bit his lower lip to bounce up and down eagerly. Asahi noted the two other new members were already laying in their respective hammocks and seemingly uninterested in them entirely.

If he didn’t quiet down Hinata he’d bother his fellow crewmates no doubt. And then Daichi…Oh no no no. “Okay, okay, Hinata. W-what do you want me to t-tell you?” just the thought of Daichi’s rage or even Suga’s punch with that beaming face…It made him shiver.

“The Legends! Tell me about the Legends again!”

“Again?” Scoffed Tsukishima from his hammock. The young blonde man was the third most recent crew member and surprisingly the second tallest crew member. He only just beat Daichi and didn’t reach Asahi but it seemed to bring Suga great glee regardless. Tsukushima stuck out not only because of his height but because of the spectacles he had kept on his face. He was apparently from a relatively wealthy family and so his desire to go to sea didn’t seem to have anything to do with gold. “That shitty ass story is so overtold it’s not even remotely true anymore.”

“Hehehe, you tell him Tsukki.” Yamaguchi the other new member, a shorter plain brunette was always trailing along beside Tsukushima and neither seemed to be able to be separated. It reminded Asahi of Suga and Daichi in the beginning.

“Pathetic…” Tsukki murmured to himself but it made Yamaguchi giggle.

Asahi turned down to look at Hinata who sat curled in his hammock looking truly dejected. Asahi knew that look. He’d worn it over half of his life as a crewmate. Things were never easy for Asahi Azumane. His mother had never wanted this life for him. It would only make him like his father. A man who says he’ll love you forever and leaves when the surf pulls him. Asahi couldn’t understand a spoiled kid like Tsukushima. He couldn’t understand his motivations but Hinata’s face, that expression…

“Very good, The Legends….how did that go…hmmm…” immediately Hinata perked up, eyes brimming with the same bright orange color of his spiky hair.

“There were 6 Legendary Pirates! One Legendary Crew!” Hinata recites from heart waving his arms about the hammock so it flips with him in it. Surprisingly he manages to stay upright as the hammock just swings back around and he looks up at Asahi whose kneeling next to him with eagerness.

“One legendary crew..yes…” Asahi shut his eyes remembering the story that all pirates tell to new crew members. It’s a tale but it is also a warning, a whole truth and yet a story unlike any other.

There were 6 Legendary Pirates. One Legendary Crew.

Together they were undefeatable. They were the ones the Jolly Rodger fought and lost against it. The Navy’s finest armada frigate torn to pieces by the Legendary 6. Piracy which had been on it’s deathbed was able to flourish once more and under the new guise of brotherhood and international democracy.

The 6 were permitted their own ships, their own time and their own reaches of the sea. Naturally this peace which was born under the rivalry and destruction of the Jolly Rodger could not be held without it.

The 6 turned on each other. Their brotherhood sunk to the pits of Davy Jones’s locker with the Jolly Rodger.

The sea undivided once more, free and open.

“And C-c-c-C-C-CAPTAIN SAWAMURA!” Hinata stuttered out clenching and unclenching his fists in front of him as Asahi paused to think of how to best phrase the next part.

The 6 Legendary Pirates are now 6 still quite legendary captains.

Daichi Sawamura, the Crow; the Legendary Carpenter of Karasuno the Northeastern Iwate Sea.

Kuroo Tetsuro, the Cat; the Legendary Quartermaster of Nekoma the Central Edo Divide.

Terushima Yuji, the Tiger; the Legendary Rigger of Johzenji the East Miyagi Coast.

Bokuto Kotaro, the Owl; the Legendary Boatswain of Fukurodani the North Kanto Region.

Wakatoshi Ushijima, the Hawk; the Legendary MasterGunner of Shiratorizawa the South Sendai.

Oikawa Tooru, the Crown; the Legendary Captain of Aoba Johsai the West Osaka Reef.

With every name, every title Hinata’s eyes grew wider and wider. He leaned more and more forward. Asahi smiled back at him but he himself could recall all their faces with each title. The feelings of complete loss, the images of their fleet sinking as their flags flew high. And Daichi…Daichi always picking them back up afterward. Fixing them back together…

“Then there was a 7th.” Tsukushima mutters and Asahi doesn’t need to look behind him to know the boy isn’t even looking in their direction. “The 7th is always the problem…it’s just uneven after all.” He chuckles and that makes the waves pummeling into the sides of KARASUNO sound all the louder. They all let the boat sway with them in it’s belly and Tsukushima speaks again, “what was his name? Snake Captain?” Below him Yamaguchi has fallen asleep, his faint snoring can be heard as his hand dangles off the side of his hammock.

Asahi sits still and stiff while Hinata looks between them both, eyes blinking and at a loss. He wants a hero story…unfortunately this one has little heroes in the present day version of it. Asahi decides to ignore Tsukushima for the young man who asked for the story.

When our Captain, Daichi Sawamura was just a young lad like yourself he lived in a small town on the mainland. His parents had been carpentars and their parents before him. All of them were kind and strong although their hands were withered, tattered and worn from the generations of work. Sawamura pushed himself to make his parents proud. He worked day in and out under his grandfather and father, trying to learn the tricks of trade. Still every day he would find a ache in his chest and no amount of work or time could fill it. One day Daichi’s grandmother fell and with no one to cook or shop Daichi had to miss a day of work to fish. His mother had always loved to fish and so they had all the fixings. She’d unfortunately passed in childbirth but it wasn’t such a rare thing in that time. Daichi grew up with his grandmother and loved her as he would his mother. He wanted to catch her the best fish but naturally he was untalented. He failed no matter how hard he sat there, no matter how much bait he used to catch a fish.

“Why?” he asked himself staring at the sun as it slowly set below the horizon and the water rose up to lap at his feet, “Why won’t you let me help her?” he just wanted one measly fish. Was that so much to ask?

That night he wouldn’t go home no matter how dark it got, or how cold. He tried and tried but still no fish came. When the sun rose once again he saw a group of crows had managed to sneak their way into his bait while he nodded off from exhaustion. He jumped to his feet and tried to shush them away. They cawed and flocked about him, starving themselves they began to peck at him. He swatted and shouted with ferocity so great the sea pulled back from the shore and shriveled into itself.

The crows were unafraid. They brazenly circled him in amazing number and in that moment Daichi thought he’d meet his mother. Then as soon as the black curving wings encircled him, they were just…gone. The only things left at his feet were a grand amount of sparse black feathers and…

A flopping fish.

“BULLSHIT.” Tsukushima snarled and Asahi held up his hand, not looking over his shoulder at the punk. He watched Hinata who beamed slowly at first only to slowly tilt his head to one side thinking about this.

“W-what did he do then?” Hinata asked.

He brought the fish home of course. He brought it right to the stove where it was cooked and prepared for his grandmother. She ate well and began to regain her strength. Meanwhile his grandfather had worked far too late into the night doing the work Daichi would have done. He collapsed from exhaustion.

By the time Daichi came to find him it was too late. His grandfather had gone to meet his mother.

Daichi felt so horrible he worked day in and day out from then with no distractions. His grandmother grew weaker but she managed to keep them all fed. Still her spirit seemed to fade the more his grandfather was gone.

“Daichi dear?” she asked one day, “When are you going to meet a nice girl and fall in love?” it was such a typical grandmotherly thing to ask he never thought twice about it.

“Why…haven’t I met one already Gran?” his charm and wit was never lost on her and she brimmed with love for him.

“Dear, you’re working yourself to hard…your grandfather wouldn’t want this. Go. Please. Have a day to yourself.”

“But father doesn’t-“ Daichi tried to argue.

“Of course he does, Dear.” She squeezed his hand and Daichi swallowed his nerve. “How do you think he met your mother and had you?” Daichi looked down, somber and ashamed. Had that been so good? Had he really brought them such good? All this death…all this emptiness…and no food on the table. Daichi’s father had always said that what mattered was what was in front of you. Only solid evidence of success could prove your worth. It was a tough fact but it was strong and true. Daichi wanted to be both those things so badly. Grandmother always knew what he was thinking and so she gently touched his cheek, her black piercing eyes peering into his. Daichi had always wanted to be more like his mother and she apparently was the spitting image of Grandma. He only had light brown eyes like his father and short ruffled dark brown hair. “You must spread your wings dear. Life can not be lived in a tiny room doing the same thing over and over.”

“Gran…” Daichi hushed her, pulling away from her hand. He’d regret it later. He’d miss it.

“You might want to stop with the death and dying. I don’t think the baby crow can handle it.” Snickered Tsukushima. Asahi would have hushed him but Hinata’s eyes were watery and his bottom lip was wobbling a little as he listened.

Asahi sighed and tried to linger a little less on the depressing bits. This was after all why Suga called him ‘DEPRESSING GOATEE’.

“You okay, Hinata?” Asahi asked gently trying to not push to much.

Hinata nodded and in a faint very audible whisper he asked again, “What happened?” Tsukushima snickered from his hammock. Yamaguchi snored and rolled over.

So Daichi took his Grandmother’s advice. His father became angry with him. He said terrible things to Daichi before he left. Things he’d come to regret. Things Daichi would never repeat to anyone else. Even now. Daichi went out for his day free of duty. Unsure of what to do with himself he wandered…and his legs naturally led him to the seashore where he had fished before.

This time there was another fishermen there but he was apparently a young man from Sendai near the Aoba Castle. He smiled gently at Daichi as he approached him and yet spoke little as they both stood their before the sea. “What might you be doing here then?”

“I was thinking I might fish.” The young man answered him and his charming good looks seemed to hide something behind his smile. Daichi noted the dangling silver earring, a tree with flocking branches that formed into a crown at it’s top.

“Here?” Daichi asked, frowning. The young man has said he was from Sendai. Surely there was plenty of fish in such a populated area.

“Hahaha….ok, yes, you caught me.” Chuckled the young man putting his hands behind his back as he teetered a bit back and forth on his heels. “I’ve heard wonderful stories about this village.” The strange young man covered his mouth and chuckled a bit at the shocked look on Daichi’s face. “I guess they can’t be true based on that look on your face…”

“W-what rumors?” murmured Hinata. He seemingly was getting more and more lost.

Tsukushima sighed and adjusted the spectacles on his nose, “How do you not even know that much? Didn’t you grow up in the same Kirimai village as Karasuno’s Captain?”

Hinata pouted, “Well yeah. But like…outside of it. I wasn’t born here.”

Tsukushima snorted.

“Neither was he.” Asahi corrected Tsukushima who finally rolled over and ignored them both, clearly annoyed with that notion.

“Sooooooooo-” Hinata urged Asahi on, looking intently. “What did the strange guy do? Was he another captain?”

Asahi smiled.

He wasn’t just any captain. He was the Legendary captain, Oikawa Tooru. The one strong enough to lead and know the entirety of every Legendry’s abilities all the way down to their greatest flaws. A fearsome friend and foe.

Hinata whispered squealed.

Oikawa told Daichi he’d come to his village seeking out a siren. A woman of immense beauty who had taken sailors and pirates alike from their ships and used their beauty and song to serenade them to the deep.

Daichi had of course never heard of such a thing. He told Oikawa as much. The people in the village were not beautiful. They were all simple, like him and had no real money. Then Oikawa asked.

“Has anyone died suddenly or abruptly around you?” the question took Daichi by surprise both because Oikawa was not smiling when he looked directly at him. It was like he knew, his eyes the same color as the clearest tropical waves he’d only ever seen in pictures. Daichi honestly wondered then if the man in front of him was the very siren he spoke of. He made Daichi feel weak and small. Everything he’d ever been afraid to feel.

“Yes, there has…” Daichi answered him back and in that moment a flock of crows flew low and from their beaks they dropped a slew of fish at his and Oikawa’s feet. The moment passed and Oikawa leaned down and picked a fish up by it’s tail as it flopped desperately in his grasp. Oikawa twisted his nose in disgust before looking at Daichi.

“Friends of yours?” Daichi wasn’t sure what he meant. The fish? The crows? Then they came back. They circled right back around and again dropped another multitude at fish overhead. Many over Oikawa who covered his head and shrieked in disgust.

“THE HELL! STOP IT!” he shouted as the cawing and flocking of feather reminded Daichi of his last trip here. Before…grandfather had…

The circling of crows flapping and pecking at Oikawa, reaching for his earring all stopped as once again Daichi’s voice boomed, “ENOUGH!” and even the sea shrunk back in fear. The crows broke apart, the fish flopped and gasped for air at his feet. Oikawa slowly looked up at him and with a sneer spoke carefully.

“my, my…you’re the siren’s son, aren’t you?”

Asahi opened his mouth to continue but there was stomping coming down the hold and soon enough Suga ducked below his silver hair and quizzical expression made Hinata shyly cover his face in his hammock. “Oi, oi! Meetings started twenty minutes ago…Put’em down and let’s get a move on.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be right there.” Asahi stammered but the Karasuno’s Quartermaster just sighed indignantly at them and passed below deck to approach Asahi and Hinata. Tsukushima made no movement, Asahi just assumed he was either asleep or pretending.

Suga looked at Hinata with a patient sad smile, he’d had a soft spot for the boy ever since they’d ventured ashore to pick him up. “Shoyo, it’s time for you to sleep. Big day tomorrow of cleaning decks and rigging.”

“I can go to the NEST?” Hinata asked once again very hopefully.

“You know that’s Noya’s job…” Suga waggled a finger at him but smiled anyway, “We will see.” With that Hinata rolled over and closed his eyes. Asahi stared at Suga with an open mouth in shock. WHAT was he made out of? Only Suga.

Of course that’s why he was Quartermaster. The one member of every crew that was responsible for the crew and it’s well being. A lot of people underestimated that position because it was often over shadowed by the Captain position. Still no one would ever think twice about Suga being anything else. He was perfection at the job and when it was beside Daichi, well…in all honesty Asahi couldn’t count his blessings fast enough.

Suga motioned widely to the above deck and Asahi pulled himself away from the hammocks. Hinata probably would ask again tomorrow night anyway. Asahi followed Suga above deck and noted how dark it had gotten. The sea seemed to be a little more calm as distantly the storm they’d passed through ragged on.

“We still headed for Korea?” Asahi asked curiously. The navigating was once his job but since the third year had passed for the last new crew members and Ennoshita had been trained under Asahi for navigation. He took up a great deal of time preparing travels now. When Asahi was needed Ennoshita found him but overall it was more of a passing retirement.

Suga hummed gently to himself and nodded in answer as they moved along the deck. By the cannons stood Tanaka, always on guard. His shaved head and the few tattoos he had sprawled right along his right cheek up to his eyes made him stand out somehow even more. Well besides the fact he was always shirtless. Even when it was freezing outside Tanaka found a way to keep his shirt off. “Meetin ain’t over yet?” Tanaka raised a eyebrow in amusement as they passed.

“Not yet!” sang song’d Suga as they moved by. Tanaka yawned widely and stared out at sea. Asahi noted the cannons farther down the way were being cleaned out by Hisashi and Narita. Those two had started with Ennoshita and now they were more focused on improving equipment and following Tanaka around like the cabin boys they started as.

Asahi followed Suga into the Captain’s Quarters, every stem of it decorated in the orange and black regalia of the Karasuno crow. Their captain’s emblem. Daichi sat at his desk, eyes staring down at two pieces of parchment that had two different black daggers planted into them. Asahi knew what that meant. They were deciding the next voyage, right here- right now.

Suga gently closed the door behind him and Daichi looked up quickly to see them both. “Ah, Asahi, good.” He motioned for Asahi to approach quickly and take the seat between Noya and Ennoshita. He did so quickly.

The black drapes Suga went to behind Daichi and collectively untied them, the orange binding around them unfurling to reveal a crow raising it’s wings up and tilting it’s head to the sea. Suga then moved to stand beside Daichi, hand on the back of his chair as Asahi’s eyes fell to the two pieces of parchments.

“I’m telling you the voyage to Hokkaido would provide us a chance to resupply. We’re running low on rations plus we have to regroup before we can take on another fight.” Ennoshita, ever the enthusiast for common sense pushed this idea, pointing to the right parchment. Meanwhile Noya pried Daichi’s attention to his paper.

“It’s a HUGE CACHE, Dai-chan! We’d get a TON of loot and you know THAT would really make the crew’s day. PLUS we could really use a new adventure.”

Daichi made no movement in either direction. He just looked down at the papers and seemed to consider them both equally. Suga leaned down and murmured something in Daichi’s ear directly. Daichi just nodded and looked up to meet Asahi’s eyes. Asahi flinched, disliking the immediate attention.

“What do you think Asahi?” a democracy, that was what Daichi had always pledged to them. Ever since he’d become captain he swore that leadership was a matter of teamwork and teamwork was a matter of evidence. It was how it worked when the going got tough. How they held together. Everyone mattered. “Asahi?” Daichi repeated, more demanding this time.

Asahi let out a long winded sigh and looked down at the two pages, “Y-y…you know I don’t like….ma-making this kind of deci…decision…”

Suga snickered behind a hand while turning away from the table. He’d known for sure Asahi would react this way. Daichi looked less impressed, “Asahi…you are a valuable member of this crew. I need you to at least give a little insight-“

“Sir,” Ennoshita tried to speak up then, “If I may-“

Daichi held up his hand instantly silencing him. “No, Ennoshita as much as I value your opinion I have heard it. Now it is time I trust your superior. If only he’ll speak up.”

Asahi avoided Daichi’s preening gaze while Suga crossed his arms and shut his eyes waiting as well. These two….Asahi swore he wouldn’t be where he was without them, in so many ways.

“I guess….I guess I should….” Asahi murmured looking between the two papers. He felt them all watching him. Noya practically preening at the idea that Asahi would choose his. Meanwhile Ennoshita kept looking wistfully that his plan would be picked. Oh god…oh no…..the…the pressure…the…

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Asahi took off out of that chair so fast it clattered underneath him as he flew out the captain’s quarters.

Suga burst into laughter and Daichi sighed while handing over a pouch of gold, “Told you he wouldn’t pick, pay up!”

“Again…” grumbled Daichi.

“He kind of looked at my plan, yeah?” Noya turned to Ennoshita who just shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Why was his mentor like this? WHY?

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