#well. i dunno you hear enough bad stories about a guy its like. hm.

[thecubes]

its kind of funny listening to thenewno2 now for me since i bought their cds as a teen obsessed with george harrison and obviously subsequently dhani harrison but like. i actually get it now

#its a prisoner reference #i sort of want to watch that show but unfortunately im a mcg**han hater :/ #well. i dunno you hear enough bad stories about a guy its like. hm. #i know it doesnt change anything by watching it but i know the way my brain works and ill constantly just be like this fucking guyyyy #whatever anyways. hi dhani i understand your band name now #the music is uhm. kind of ehhhhhhh sorry #i seemed to like it at the time i guess? i think thefearofmissingout is better than you are here #im still glad i bought them though i like having cds and music

[osakaso5]

IDOLiSH7 6th Anniversary Special Story: Full of Heart...

Chapter 1: The Greatest Show

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Mister Shimooka: The day has finally come for Rabitty-kun, beloved children's character, to celebrate its 6th anniversary with a special show!

Mister Shimooka: Welcome to Kids' Room!

Mister Shimooka: And as we look back on our own childhoods with Toi Toi Toi Company's famous mascot...

Mister Shimooka: We'll also take a peek at the childhoods of idols whose fame rivals even that of Rabitty-kun!

Audience: Kyaaaaa...!

Mister Shimooka: Here come our special guests!

Mister Shimooka: Re:vale!

Yuki: Hey there.

Momo: I hope you're excited for our baby pics!

Audience: Kyaaaaa..!

Mister Shimooka: TRIGGER!

Tenn Kujo: Thank you for having us on.

Gaku Yaotome: Thanks. Let's regain some of our childhood innocence, yeah?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: I hope you're all ready!

Audience: Kyaaaaa..!

Mister Shimooka: IDOLiSH7!

Iori Izumi: I'm a bit embarrassed to show you all my picture, but I suppose I'll allow it, just this once.

Yamato Nikaido: Ichi's not the only one who's feeling embarrassed, but I think I've got a pretty good shot just for you guys.

Mitsuki Izumi: Thanks for having us!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Thanks!

Sogo Osaka: Congratulations on your 6th anniversary.

Nagi Rokuya: Only you will have the privilege of witnessing this special picture of me!

Riku Nanase: Please look forward to it!

Audience: Kyaaaaa..!

Mister Shimooka: ŹOOĻ!

Toma Inumaru: Let's make this the best anniversary ever!

Haruka Isumi: Hi.

Torao Mido: Thanks for having us.

Minami Natsume: Thank you.

Audience: Kyaaaaa..!

Tsumugi's Thoughts: Rabitty-kun's 6th anniversary special, Welcome to Kids' Room...

Tsumugi's Thoughts: For this show, our members had to find pictures from their childhood...

Tsumugi's Thoughts: And this is the story of how it all happened.

Tsumugi's Thoughts: Specifically...

Tsumugi's Thoughts: How it happened for MEZZO".

Tamaki Yotsuba: ........

Sogo Osaka: ........

- - - -

Tamaki Yotsuba: Welcome to Kids' Room...

Sogo Osaka: A show where we reminisce about our childhoods..?

Otoharu Takanashi: Exactly. You're both familiar with Rabitty-kun, the children's toy that took the world by storm some twelve years ago, yes?

Otoharu Takanashi: It was renewed and began its second run six years ago.

Riku Nanase: I remember Rabitty-kun! It was so popular when I was little! Ooh, ooh! I'm Rabitty!

Yamato Nikaido: The talking rabbit toys? We had at least three of those.

Mitsuki Izumi: Wow, gramps. You must've been a real Rabitty-kun superfan.

Yamato Nikaido: Superfan? Seriously..?

Mitsuki Izumi: Our parents only got us the one, so we had to take turns playing with it.

Iori Izumi: Right.

Riku Nanase: What's with the cool reaction, Iori? Didn't you like Rabitty-kun?

Iori Izumi: I have a cool reaction to all manner of cutesy stuffed animals, in case you haven't already noticed.

Iori Izumi: Besides, don't the rest of you find Rabitty-kun sort of... creepy? Because of the way he talks...

Yamato Nikaido: Creepy..? Nope, not really.

Mitsuki Izumi: Maybe he seemed scary to you because you were so little back then?

Riku Nanase: Do you know him, Nagi? It's possible that Rabitty-kun didn't ever land in Northmare.

Nagi Rokuya: OH, I do know him! I had a Rabitty Boy of my own once.

Nagi Rokuya: He could both sing and dance, and he enjoyed when I fed him carrots and pet his head.

Sogo Osaka: Wow...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Seriously?

Riku Nanase: What about you, Tamaki and Sogo-san? Do you know Rabitty-kun?

Mitsuki Izumi: Ah... Right, I guess you guys might've...

Sogo Osaka: I-I do know of him. Though I never owned one myself, I definitely remember hearing his name somewhere.

Tamaki Yotsuba: S-same here! We had a ton of old toys at the orphanage, so we totally had one of those somewhere!

Tamaki Ýotsuba: Y'know, the, uh... R-Rabitty Man?

Nagi Rokuya: Rabitty Boy.

Riku Nanase: No, it's Rabitty-kun!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah, Rabitty-kun! What's he got to do with the show we're going on, anyway?

Otoharu Takanashi: Rabitty-kun's manufacturer, Toi Toi Toi Company, is the sponsor of this TV special.

Otoharu Takanashi: Tsumugi-kun, would you mind explaining the rest?

Tsumugi Takanashi: Not at all. It's for Rabitty-kun's 6th renewal anniversary...

Tsumugi Takanashi: ...For which they wanted to hold a big TV special where idol groups look back on their childhoods.

Tsumugi Takanashi: The chosen groups are IDOLiSH7, Re:vale, TRIGGER, and ŹOOĻ.

Tsumugi Takanashi: The show will feature not only Rabitty-kun, but many other children's toys and songs from the past.

Mitsuki Izumi: Wow! That sounds fun!

Yamato Nikaido: Are you sure our generational gaps won't get in the way? Take me and Tama, for example. We're a whole five years apart.

Tsumugi Takanashi: Speaking of which, you and Yuki-san are four years apart. That means he and Tamaki-san are nine years apart.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Whoa. He's basically old enough to be my dad.

Iori Izumi: Hush. Don't let him hear you say that.

Otoharu Takanashi: As part of the project, they've asked you to present your own childhood photos during the show.

Otoharu Takanashi: Do you all think  you could do that? If it's too difficult, we can ask them to pass on you during that particular segment.

Mitsuki Izumi: It's no problem for me and Iori. What about you, gramps?

Yamato Nikaido: I'm sure I'll have tons of pictures to choose from... Even ones that don't show where I lived back then. What about you, Nagi?

Nagi Rokuya: But of course. I was all over Northmare's newspapers for a few weeks after I was born.

Yamato Nikaido: Sure, but do you have pictures you could actually use for the show?

Mitsuki Izumi: They're not so overly fancy that they'll ruin it for the rest of us, are they?

Nagi Rokuya: Hm... Very well, I shall select the most wonderful shot  myself. And what of you, Riku? Will you have trouble preparing a photo?

Riku Nanase: I might have kind of a hard time. Especially if I accidentally pick a picture that's got both me and Tenn-nii in it.

Iori Izumi: Which you will not be doing, obviously.

Riku Nanase: Ugh, I can already tell that you're planning to pick a photo that matches Mitsuki's.

Iori Izumi: I'm not trying to be smug about it, you know.

Riku Nanase: I wonder which photo Tenn-nii will choose. We'll have to meet up and talk about this.

Banri Ogami: Are you sure you can all manage? Especially you, Tamaki-kun and Sogo-kun...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ah, um... Yeah, probably!

Sogo Osaka: I think I'll be able to work something out, too.

Banri Ogami: Really? If it's too difficult, then you don't have to force it.

Banri Ogami: I know both your family situations are a bit complicated...

Tamaki Yotsuba: We'll be fine! I'll ask the director of the orphanage.

Sogo Osaka: I have the contact information of one of our housekeepers, so I can ask them.

Banri Ogami: Okay, then. Good luck.

Riku Nanase: I can't wait to see what we all looked like when we were little!

Mitsuki Izumi: Same. I'm curious to see how Yaotome might've looked.

Yamato Nikaido: I'm more interested in Inumaru. Do you think his eyes were always that stern?

Nagi Rokuya: Are you asking because your own eyes are the same way?

Yamato Nikaido: Shut it.  

Iori Izumi: I'll contact Kujo-san ahead of time, so we won't have any mishaps with Nanase-san.

Riku Nanase: I can do it myself!

Tamaki Yotsuba: .........

Sogo Osaka: .........

- - - - 

Sogo Osaka: Pictures from our childhood...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Pics from when we were little...

Sogo Osaka: Do you think you'll find one, Tamaki-kun?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Maybe, if they've got some at the orphanage... You?

Sogo Osaka: Maybe, if my father hasn't disposed of them... I wonder how many of them we even had...

Tamaki Yotsuba: You should've told Ban-chan that you're gonna have a hard time finding any.

Sogo Osaka: ...I could say the same to you.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Well yeah, but...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Everyone else was talking about that stuff so normally, and I wanted to seem normal too.

Sogo Osaka: Me too... Even after all this time, I'm still desperate to fit in.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Same. Even though we I know I can talk about this stuff with the guys.

Sogo Osaka: I wonder why that is.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I dunno.

Sogo Osaka: It's not a problem with any of them, or Banri-san. I guess I just don't want them to feel sorry for me...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Maybe that's it for me, too... I don't feel bad about it, but I also don't wanna get in the way of their happiness.

Sogo Osaka: Right. Maybe I'm just feeling awkward, because I didn't grow up like them. I didn't even have one of those Rabitty Dolls.

Tamaki Yotsuba: "Rabitty Dolls"?

Sogo Osaka: That's right. I was only allowed to have toys that would advance my intellectual development.

Tamaki Yotsuba: So-chan, that's not what they're called. Nobody had a "Rabitty Doll".

Sogo Osaka: Oh. What were they called, again?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Rabitty Man. No wait. I mean Rabitty-kun.

Sogo Osaka: Rabitty-kun.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ooh, ooh!

Sogo Osaka: .....!? What's wrong? Did something get lodged in your throat?

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...No, no! Stop trying to pry my mouth open!!!

Sogo Osaka: It's because you made that groaning noise...

Tamaki Yotsuba: I was just pretending to be Rabitty-kun. Like: "Ooh, ooh! I'm Rabitty!"

Sogo Osaka: Ah, come to think of it, he did say something like that...

Tamaki Yotsuba: I wonder what the "ooh ooh" part's about.

Sogo Osaka: I don't know... Isn't Rabitty-san supposed to react to sounds, lights, and touch?

Sogo Osaka: Maybe he's being overstimulated to the point of excruciating pain, without even realizing it himself...

Tamaki Yotsuba: I don't think he says it 'cause he's in pain... Maybe he just can't get his mouth open?

Sogo Osaka: You think he's been gagged?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Why would anyone gag an innocent bunny toy?

Sogo Osaka: You're the one who said he couldn't open his mouth... In any case, I'll try and get a hold of someone  who might know about my pictures.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Like that housekeeper?

Sogo Osaka: Yes... They might help me, so long as they haven't resigned yet... What will you do?

Tamaki Yotsuba: I'm gonna ask the director. Pretty sure the orphanage's got at least some pics of me. Are you gonna call them right now?

Sogo Osaka: That was my plan.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ok, I'll go call from my room then.

Sogo Osaka: Alright. Goodnight.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Mmh... But I might come back if my call doesn't work out.

Sogo Osaka: That's fine. We can figure this out together.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Okay. 

- - - -

[Door opens]

Tamaki Yotsuba: ........

Sogo Osaka: You're back. How did it go?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ooh, ooh.

Sogo Osaka: Is that a groan of pain?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yep.

Sogo Osaka: My attempt didn't go too well, either. Apparently only my father has access to any of our pictures. The housekeeper had no idea what has become of them.

Tamaki Yotsuba: They had pictures of me, but I'm too old in all of them. Like, thirteen and up.

Sogo Osaka: They had pictures of you when you were thirteen?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah.

Sogo Osaka: Did they send you any?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Nope. The director doesn't know how smartphones work. Why, did you wanna see 'em?

Sogo Osaka: A little bit...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Heh. I think I looked pretty cool back then.  

Sogo Osaka: I think you were probably more cute than cool. You were only thirteen, after all. I just wanted to see a version of you that isn't taller than me.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Well I wanna see how you looked when you were little, too. Like, do you even look anything like that now?

Sogo Osaka: I should hope so, since they are pictures of me.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Heh.

Sogo Osaka: I know, it's pretty funny. In any case, I did find one good lead.

Tamaki Yotsuba: What kinda lead?

Sogo Osaka: One of my father's coworkers does photography for a hobby. He should have taken a picture of me with my uncle.

Sogo Osaka: He's someone very important, so his photos should have survived even after my father got rid of every photo of my uncle.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Your dad must really love throwing pictures away.

Sogo Osaka: I can almost sympathize with him... I wouldn't want to be reminded of such a completely and utterly ruined relationship.

Tamaki Yotsuba: So if MEZZO" disbands, you're gonna delete all your pictures with me in them?

Sogo Osaka: ........

Tamaki Yotsuba: You can't get rid of all of them, though. They're all over the world, in magazines and stuff.

Tamaki Yotsuba: So you're gonna be reminded of me no matter what. Tough luck.

Sogo Osaka: ........ ...That's true.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ah, that reminds ME!!!

Sogo Osaka: W-what!?

Tamaki Yotsuba: I knew an uncle who took pictures of us, too!

Sogo Osaka: An uncle who took pictures...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Mom liked the family portrait that uncle took so much, she kept it near our TV.

Tamaki Yotsuba: We put that picture in her casket when she died, but if that uncle's got the original data, then he can make another one.

Sogo Osaka: True. Do you know where this uncle lives?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Nope... But Re:vale might.

Sogo Osaka: Re:vale?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yep. What about you? Can you call that guy who works with your dad?

Sogo Osaka: I don't have the connections to just go talk to him. But I know someone who does.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Who? Ah... You mean that dude?

Sogo Osaka: Why do you look so upset? He's not that bad. Not anymore, at least.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I dunno. He still looks like an evil rich guy to me. 

To be continued...

#idolish7 #anniversary story 2021 #translation #i7 #trigger #re:vale #zool #other translations

[drabbles-mc]

Date Night

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: I wrote this fic when my boyfriend and I were on a big Warzone kick so be warned that a majority of this story uses that as the base of it haha. This one-shot got away from me pretty quickly, and I’ve been super hesitant to post it (it’s literally been sitting in my ‘finished’ folder for months without me posting it because ~anxiety~) But I figured it’s not doing any good sitting unpublished. I know I haven’t really been creating a whole lot of Mayans content lately, but hoping to get back into the swing of it soon! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

Angel Reyes Taglist: @mayans-sauce @helli4nthus @angelreyesgirl @starrynite7114 @queenbeered @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @sillygoose6969 @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @garbinge​ @bucky-iss-bae​ @enjoy-the-destruction​ @withmyteeth​ @encounterthepast​ @lilacyennefer​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @rosieposie0624​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ @blessedboo​ @holl2712​ @lakamaa12​ @luckyharley1903​ @masterlistforimagines​ @kkim120​ @toni9​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @black-repunzel99​ @crowfootwrites​ @redpoodlern​ @punkgoddess-98​ @lexondeck​ 

You were sat on the couch in your apartment, headset on as you started another round of Warzone with Angel, EZ, and Coco. The four of you tried to band together at least twice a week when their lives would allow for it, all playing from your respective apartments. Coco heard you mention something off-hand about Call of Duty one night and he didn’t let it go, and somehow that evolved into the four of you running quads together in your free time. Coco and Angel were always getting intermittently suspended from the game for the things that they said when they were winning, and you and EZ found it endlessly entertaining.

“Thought you weren’t going to be on tonight, Y/N,” Angel commented as the two of you waited for EZ and Coco to get back to their headsets, each of them having gotten up to grab drinks.

You tried not to sigh, “Didn’t think I was. Plans got cancelled so I got some unexpected free time.”

“Glad we’re your second choice,” EZ’s voice founds its way over the stream with a chuckle.

“Second place ain’t that bad, EZ,” you laughed, “Don’t bitch about it.”

“Homeboy bailed again, didn’t he?” Angel asked, already fairly certain of the answer.

“Yuup,” you stretched the word out, letting your annoyance shine through, “Fuck it. Doesn’t matter,” you paused, “How long does it take for Coco to grab a fuckin’ beer?”

“Ay, I’m here,” he spoke up, finally, “Let’s run it.”

Considering the fact that the four of you were constantly talking amongst yourselves about things that had nothing to do with the game, you did pretty well as a team. You’d get a few wins together every week, and of course one of them was always trying to take all the credit. It didn’t matter enough for you to get involved, so you let them argue it out amongst themselves.

“Fuck!” Coco groaned, “Team on me. I’m down.”

You laughed, “Damn, hope you’re a better sniper in real life or Angel and EZ are screwed.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he shot back at you with a laugh.

“EZ how do you always end up in a completely different part of the map?” you chuckled, “We can’t revive you if we don’t know where the fuck you are.”

“When have I ever needed you guys to revive me?”

“This motherfucker,” Angel mumbled under his breath, trying not to sound as amused as he was.

“It doesn’t bother your man that you’re spending your night with three dudes who are, objectively, way better than he is?” Angel asked with a laugh as he trailed you in the game.

You shook your head, glad that he couldn’t see the smile on your face, “Your humility never ceases to amaze me, Angel.”

“Didn’t answer the question, Y/N,” EZ piped up.

“You guys trying to hold an intervention right now or something? Fuck,” you laughed.

“You think you need one, querida?” Angel’s tone was baiting, and you were trying not to feed into it.

Luckily, before he could keep pressing you about it, the two of you started getting lit up by another team in the game. Normally it would’ve been frustrating but you were glad to have the distraction. It was bad enough that Angel was always looking for any excuse to give you grief about your boyfriend, but you had to admit that your boyfriend gave Angel decent amounts of metaphorical ammo to use against him. You hated conceding to that, though, so the onslaught of players coming after you was a welcome distraction.

You managed to get out of it unscathed, but Angel wasn’t so lucky. You chuckled, “Have fun in the gulag, sucker.”

“We’re on the same team, you know,” he laughed.

“Not when you’re talking all that shit, we aren’t.”

“You’d still buy me back though, right?”

You scoffed, “Nah if I’m gonna drop four grand it’ll be on Coco.”

“Damn straight,” Coco’s laugh rang through the chat.

“Seriously where the fuck is EZ?” you shook your head as you sprinted across the map.

“Safe and sound unlike you fools,” he chuckled.

“Can you stop camping and come drop me some ammo?” you couldn’t hold your laughter in, completely undoing any work you had been putting in to sound annoyed.

Despite all the shit the four of you talked, you managed to clutch a win at the end of it with EZ and Coco. Angel was pouting over not being bought back, but you were a woman of your word and when you were able to Coco was the first player you brought back into the game. The four of you stayed on for a little bit in the lobby, just talking amongst yourselves before EZ and Coco got ready to sign off.

“Tell your man we said wassup,” Coco snickered.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, “Goodbye, Coco.”

“You two gonna play nice if I leave?” the smugness in EZ’s voice was palpable.

“No promises,” you laugh.

“Beat it, Boy Scout,” you could hear the smile in Angel’s voice, “Go clean your one set of silverware or something.”

“I have at least three sets now, but fine,” with one last laugh he left the lobby, leaving just you and Angel behind.

“Wanna run another one?” you chuckled, “Promise I’ll buy you back this time.”

“Fuckin’ liar,” he laughed, “But fine.”

It was silent between the two of you for a few minutes and it was almost eerie, solely because Angel was notorious for never keeping his mouth shut. A couple times you wanted to point it out, but something in the game would always distract you and you never quite got around to it.

“Boy Wonder still not home?” Angel asked.

“Something tells me that I’m flying solo tonight,” you paused, letting a half-hearted laugh fall from your lips, “Besides you, of course.”

“Of course,” he chuckled but you could tell that there was something more behind it.

“Whatchu thinking, Angelito? Hm?” you tried to coax it out of him.

“What kind of fuckin’ idiot,” he paused as he reloaded his gun, the brief pause making your stomach knot slightly, “doesn’t use dead silence? I hear your heavy feet from miles away, querida.”

You huff, knowing that he was deflecting, “That’s what’s weighing on you, Angel? Really?” your fingers nervously drummed against the back of your controller.

“Speaking of idiots,” he continued, and you wished that you could see his face, “what the fuck is your man doing ditching you again?”

There it is.

You let out a sigh that shifts into a hollow laugh, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Never thought to ask?”

You scoff, “You know, it actually never crossed my mind. Blowing my whole world wide open tonight.”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, “Clearly a touchy topic.”

“I don’t even know if I want the fucking answer, at this point,” you shake your head as the two of you slowly but surely make your way towards the safe zone of the map, “I don’t want another bullshit excuse.”

“Why do you even bother sticking around, then?”

“I dunno,” you chuckle quietly, “Why do you still pick up the AK when you could grab the M13? Sometimes people just do dumb shit.”

“I’m nasty with the AK and you know it,” he laughed. There were a few beats of silence as the two of you battled it out in the game, covering each other before Angel continued, “I’m just sayin’, you should not be spending your date night playing fuckin’ Warzone with me.”

“My company that bad, Angel?”

“You know that ain’t what this is about.”

You sighed, “I know. It’s just—fuck!” you laughed and let your controller drop into your lap, “I’m down. Fuck.”

“C’mon, gotta keep your head in the game,” he laughed.

“You don’t get to grill me on my relationship and then give me shit for being distracted.”

“Wanna back out?”

You nodded before you remembered that he couldn’t see you, “Uh, yea sure. I’m tapped out for the night, I think.”

Both of you backed out of the match but you stayed on the line with each other. The silence that filled the space between you almost felt heavy. Part of you felt like you should be saying something but you didn’t quite know what.

“Wanna come over?” you didn’t know what possessed you to say that, especially given how late it was, but it was out there now and you couldn’t take it back.

“Now?” he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t surprised.

“I mean…yea?”

There was a pause before he laughed, “Fuck it, why not? I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Real fifteen, or Angel fifteen?”

You could easily picture him shaking his head at you, “Real fifteen.”

True to his word, fifteen minutes later you heard a knock at your door. You let him in and for some reason, things felt just a little bit different. It wasn’t anything that either of you said or did, but there was definitely a shift. You grabbed a couple beers for each of you before plopping down on the couch next to him.

The two of you got wrapped up in conversation, bantering back and forth about one thing then another. It was the hardest that you’d laughed in a long time and you had to admit that you needed it. Not that you didn’t love shooting back and forth with him and the guys, but there was definitely something different about sitting on the couch together and joking around as opposed to doing it over a headset from your separate living rooms.

At one point he bet you that you couldn’t win a round without your headset on. You were fairly certain that he was right, but once he made a bet out of it you needed to prove him wrong. Loading the game and taking a long drink from your next beer bottle, you got ready to hopefully make yourself twenty bucks richer.

It was about as futile as you’d assumed it would be, but the commentary from Angel made the repeated defeats worth it. The two of you were shoulder to shoulder on the couch, Angel doing everything except reaching over and snatching the controller from you in an attempt to throw you off. You playfully nudged him to try and put some distance between you as you played. Both of you were erupting with laughter when you heard a key turn in the lock of your door.

Both of you paused and looked over as your boyfriend walked in. Despite the fact that neither you nor Angel were doing anything wrong, you still felt like you were supposed to be explaining yourself. He only looked at you for a moment before his eyes locked onto Angel’s. The two of them had only met briefly on a few occasions—he never really hung out with the guys from the MC.

“Sorry. Didn’t know you had company,” he was still looking at Angel rather than you.

“Uh, yea,” you closed out of the game and leaned back on the couch, “Kind of a last-minute thing.”

“If you’re busy, I can leave,” his eyes darted back and forth between you and Angel.

“She shoulda been busy a few fuckin’ hours ago, bro,” Angel spoke up before he could stop himself.

“What?” his tone had more bite to it than you were used to.

“Angel, don’t,” you kept your voice quiet.

“No, let him say what he’s gotta say,” you could tell by the way your boyfriend shifted his weight that he was going to turn this into more than it needed to be.

“I’m just saying,” Angel shook his head slightly, “Me and my boys have spent more time with your girl on your date nights than you have lately,” he sucked his teeth, “No reason that she should be stuck playing fuckin’ Warzone with us jokers when you’re supposed to be taking her to dinner and a movie or some shit.”

“Fuck,” you whispered as you ran your hands down your face.

He stepped forward towards the couch, “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Angel stood up off the sofa, effectively dwarfing your boyfriend without even having to try, “Who the fuck are you?”

Your boyfriend looked over to you, “Y/N, why do you le—”

“Nah, nah,” Angel shook his head, “This is between us now,” he motioned back and forth between them, “Say what you gotta say.”

“What gives you the right to come in here and tell me what to do with my relationship? Don’t you got biker shit you should be doing?”

“What do you think I’m doin’ right now?” there was a cocky smirk on Angel’s face as he spoke and you knew that you shouldn’t have found it as amusing as you did.

You must’ve been worse at hiding your amusement than you thought, because when your boyfriend looked over at you, anger instantly took over his features, “This shit funny to you, Y/N?”

All of the care in you disappeared, “I mean,” you sighed and shrugged, “honestly? A little bit.”

He scoffed, “You know what? I don’t fucking need this,” he shook his head, “I’m not gonna stay here and just be disrespected. I’m fucking, I’m done. I’m out.”

You knew that you should’ve felt something, but you just didn’t. You didn’t even bother to get up off the couch, “Leave your key on the way out, then.”

Both he and Angel looked at you with surprised expressions on their faces. Your boyfriend shook his head slightly in disbelief, “Wh-what?”

“If you’re done,” you leaned forward, elbows resting on your knees, “then leave your key to my place. I don’t want my ex to be able to get into my place whenever he wants.”

He sputtered a few fractions of words before tossing the key onto the table and turning to head out. He slammed the door behind him and Angel looked back to you, shock written all over his face. A smile crept across his lips and he shook his head at you.

“That was fuckin’ cold.”

You chuckled, shrugging, “Was a long time coming though, right?”

“I mean, yea, but still,” he paused, really looking at you, “You good?”

You nodded, “Right now? Yea. Maybe it’ll hit me tomorrow or something. Or maybe it won’t,” you had to laugh.

“Sorry I kinda brought this on,” you could tell by the look in his eyes that the apology was genuine.

You shrugged, “You and your big fuckin’ mouth certainly didn’t help,” you chuckled, “But none of that was on you.”

“You wanna talk abou—"

“No,” you cut him off with a shake of your head, “C’mon,” you motioned for him to sit down next to you again, “Time for you to lose without a headset on.”

He laughed as he sat next to you, “I ain’t gonna lose.”

You smiled, shaking your head as he took the controller in his hands. Without thinking much of it, you found yourself settling against his side. He froze up for a moment before reaching around you, lightly wrapping you up as he held the controller in his hands. Neither of you said anything about it for a few minutes while he got himself set up.

You chuckled as you watched him loot for weapons, “Still gonna use the goddamn AK?”

“The gun isn’t what’s gonna make me lose, querida,” he chuckled as he chanced a glance down at you cozied up against his side.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you smiled up at him knowingly.

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Nothin’, nothin’.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes fanfic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[mimiplaysgames]

save it for the morning after (3/3)

Pairing: Terra/Aqua Rating: E (Explicit) for Smut Word Count: 7,850

Summary: Aqua learns the value of being vulnerable.Terra learns to trust his body to another. Everyone gets a happy ending. ;)

Read on AO3

A/N: AAAAHHHH Happy Terraqua Day!!!! I can’t believe I finally finished this one, it always felt like it would never happen. I’m actually quite nervous - I don’t take the same kind of path of other smut and being so deviant honestly freaks me out so much. I really do pull this story into extreme directions for smut, that I wonder if I can call it smut at all. But let’s see. Hope you like. <3

~*~*~*~*~

“Aqua.”

“Hm?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you…”

“Go ahead.”

“....”

“Are you okay?”

“The... um, your scars...”

“They’re not yours.”

“Aqua—”

“They aren’t.”

“Please.”

“...They’re not yours.”

~*~*~*~*~

Well, damn.

Ven hones in on Terra—a ballsy move considering it’s a super-bad idea to get this close to a large opponent—but Ven skids, spinning on his knees and tripping Terra like a pet running through its owner’s legs. Ven serves an uppercut with his short Keyblade. It almost jabs Terra on the ribs if not for his lurch backward, and he lands squarely on his ass against the desk behind him. 

A pot of ink rattles and tips, spilling all over his pants and spreading up the spine of his shirt. 

Ven snorts. “You look like you shit yourself.”

Terra wipes his backside, picking up excess ink in layers. It’s slick, skating through his fingers with the weight of iron and dripping onto the floor. More of it runs between his legs, finding a way in between cracks and folds of skin, moistening up his boxers. Damn it. He slathers his hand through Ven’s hair with so much force (Hey!) that Ven waddles to stay in balance. 

“And you look like you’ve been picking through trash.”

Ink clumps chunks of blond hair together, drooling down Ven’s ears and staining his collar. It makes him look oily for lack of a better term, like someone who hasn’t taken a shower in weeks. When he touches his scalp out of reflex he flinches, wiping his coated fingers on his own shirt… before realizing what he’s doing. He groans. 

“It suits you,” Terra says. 

“I dunno.” Ven wipes the rest of it on Terra’s shirt. “Looks better on you.” Might as well. The shirt is honestly ruined. 

One corner of the offending desk is covered in globs of shiny black. Terra corrects the ink bottle and surveys the damage. The tile floor will be easy to clean, but the wood is inhaling the color. 

“Aqua’s going to kill us,” Ven mutters. “She spent a lot of time in this room.”

Weeks of time choosing which books to display on the shelves. Days researching the right chalkboard to purchase. Journeys spent gathering minerals for students to practice with: ash from a far away volcano, water from the forest river nearby, unearthed dirt from the garden, and feathers from nests settled at the peak of the tallest mountain. Aqua has a vision of this room playing the dual role of serving lectures and encouraging hands-on experimentation in a safe environment. She wants it to be respectable and impressive before the semester starts. They’re not allowed to traverse the room with shoes on, and Terra and Ven were respectable about that before one of them (Ven) started to get cocky about his fighting abilities. 

Yeah, they fucked up. “Think of it this way. We proved it’s not practical for physical training,” Terra says. 

“You’re the one who’s going to tell her that.” Ven scoffs, splaying a wet towel on the floor.

Terra pulls his suspenders over his head and lets them hang from his waistband. Pinching his stained muscle shirt off and bundling it up, he uses it as a rag to absorb the puddle on the table. What’s sinking into his socks is now warm. He ignores it.

“Do you think I could pull this off?” Ven asks as a by-the-way, twiddling a shy hand at the back of his greasy head.

“Black hair?”

“No, you’re right. It’s creepy.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Pfft, you also ‘didn’t’”—Ven bookends the word with finger quotations—“spar fairly.”

Terra considers throwing his damp shirt at Ven’s face. “I’m not at my prime yet.”

“That’s not it.” Ven flips the towel and swipes the remaining streaks with the cleaner side. “You’re holding back. You promised you wouldn’t do that anymore.”

“I’m not holding back.” He is. Just the image of raising his Keyblade against either of his friends is enough to make him nauseous, but he swallows it to be a good sport. 

Giving it his all is something else entirely, a deeper, invasive illness. 

“I know you can hit harder than that.” Ven dunks the towel in a pail of water, clouding it. 

“I just have a lot in my mind and it’s hard to... relax, I guess.”

There’s a moment of pregnant quiet before Ven says pointedly, “I thought Aqua was helping you out with that.”

A moist squish slaps Ven on the nose.

“Now you’re being sensitive,” Ven says, pulling Terra’s shirt off his shoulder.

“You missed a spot,” says Terra, using his thumb to smear the stain across Ven’s cheek. For shits and giggles he continues upward, rubbing raccoon circles on Ven’s eyelids. “You really pull this off.”

“Do you annoy her this much?”

“She enjoys it.”

“Ugggh.” Ven throws Terra’s hands off of him, his chin tucked in so much that two layers of neck skin fold over. “Gross.”

Terra pauses. Gross wasn’t what he expected out of Ven’s mouth. 

In fact, Terra hasn’t been sure of how Ven took the news the first time. 

Oh, Ven had said when they told him Aqua was moving into Terra’s room. Okay. Cool. He shrugged as if he could have heard more exciting news, and left to take a short walk in the woods with Chirithy. The three of them never spoke about it again. Ven wouldn’t mention a word when he saw them dragging her dresser and vanity table, and seldom joined them if he heard them laughing together with the door closed. 

Things are changing in minute strokes, in seconds that cluster for as long as Terra can recognize them, until they dissipate and become something not quite foreign but never quite familiar anymore, as though where he comes from is far from home and who he thinks he knows are almost-strangers.

“Have we ever made you uncomfortable?” Terra asks. 

“What, no!” Ven waves his hand, feigning shock, staring at his shoes and everywhere else but Terra. “I mean, Aqua’s been Aqua since we got back, and you’re just weird sometimes, but—”

“Then why do you...” Terra sighs, choosing his words. “Avoid us when we’re together?”

“I don’t want to interrupt.”

An almost-lie. “I hope you don’t think we don’t want you around.”

“Noooo. Neither of you make me feel that way.”

“But you do.”

Ven lifts his shoulders higher than his ears and drops them with the same weight as throwing books on the floor. “It’s just… nothing’s the same.”

Nothing is, what with the quiet mornings since the Master is no longer here to prepare breakfast before the sun rises, or huff at anyone when they disturb his meditation. Now they’re preparing the castle for the largest student body of Keyblade wielders it’s seen in years, something Terra thought would be a good distraction for everyone. 

But Ven’s right. Home doesn’t feel like home when the floors are re-tiled, and specific rooms are repainted, and the Master’s favorite lounge chair sits empty in the same spot in the library by the fireplace. Maybe for Ven, home is the turn right to knock on Terra’s door and the turn left to knock on Aqua’s. 

“It’s weird.” Ven grimaces. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m used to talking to you about things you promised to keep from Aqua—”

“I still wouldn’t tell her anything!”

“—and I’m used to it being the three of us.”

Terra pauses. “We’re still the three of us. We’re still best friends.”

“That’s not how it works, and you know it,” Ven says, smiling warmly. “You are one half of two. You share a language I can’t butt into.” 

Terra kneels onto one knee, brushing oily hair out of Ven’s face. Aqua would have liked this look on him: less spiky. “Ven, you’re always going to be a part of our lives.”

“Stop worrying. What you have is not a bad thing. I think it’s kind of awesome. I wish you’d give it your all in a fight. I wanna see what you and her are capable of together, because it’d be huge.”

“I’m only trying to say that we don’t want you to feel like a third wheel. You’re more than welcome to knock on our door anytime—”

“Ah. No. No thanks.” He shoos Terra away. 

“Why?”

“I don’t wanna see anything.” Ven squints.

Terra snorts. “You’re not going to see—”

“I don’t wanna hear about it either.”

“But—”

“Nope.” Ven covers his ears with his palms. “Nothing. No inside jokes. No pet names. Yuck. Keep that to yourself.”

Terra presses his lips together to zip up the snickering. “Okay, I won’t say anything.”

“Good. I don’t want any images in my head.” He wipes his hands like he’s done a good job explaining himself. “I should’ve expected it anyhow.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” Ven says slowly. “I mean, the Master kinda knew.”

“He said something to you?” Terra asks with a shaky voice. He’s flipping through memories, when he and Aqua were very careful and very private, when they didn't touch each other in case there were witnesses near. He was so certain he’d suffer punishment if Eraqus ever found out. Lists of long essays about the dangers of being reckless with emotions every time Aqua made him laugh too much. Grueling physical regiments to knock discipline into his body every time he made bad decisions based on a tug between his legs. 

“I didn’t understand it at the time,” Ven says, leaning back on his hands and tapping his heels on the floor. “We were all hanging out, and you and Aqua left, and then he got sad.

“When I asked him what was wrong, he told me you guys created a very bright Light together. A Light bonded is a Light stronger, he said.” Ven mimics the Master’s lilts in speech, using his finger to emphasize points. “But be aware, Ven. Such a blinding Light casts an equally blinding, deep Shadow. What a dangerous force that is.”

It’s a good imitation. The ache in Terra’s chest twists into his guts and warms him at the same time, like a loving hug that squeezes too hard.

“Honestly it made me think you and Aqua were doing something you weren’t supposed to.”

“Maybe we were.” Terra’s throat constricts, his voice gravelly and his shame nostalgic. “We thought the same sometimes.”

“Which isn’t fair. Why can normal people experience that but it’s such a big deal if Keybearers do it?”

Because when you elevate the person you admire to a standard you can’t match, it makes you do stupid things. Aqua had followed him world after world, expecting it would eventually lead to a fight. Too many Keyblades in a friendship does no one good. 

To-may-to, to-mah-to. They did end up fighting, it just wasn’t his own Keyblade that inevitably hurt her. What a dangerous force that is.

“So the Master did not approve?” Terra asks.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Ven rubs his cheek in thought, forgetting all about the ink. “He said your combined Light looked beautiful and warm. And that you’d have many nights where it would be enough when it gets hard... Honestly, he only wished that you keep your head on your shoulders.”

Wishes asked for are wishes granted, the Master used to say, so long as you work for them. The years Terra had wished for this exact approval had only left him with space to forge false hope. Nothing major, nothing long-winded. Just a simple, impossible wish as they placed the flower wreath on his memorial and bid their goodbyes. 

Finally, that wish is fulfilled. As Ven grants it to him, it’s hard to believe or accept, sitting on the floor of what used to be a ballroom, covered in drying ink. 

“Thanks, Ven.” Tears cascade down his cheeks, pretending to be inconspicuous. He wipes them with his clean forearm but he can’t keep up. There’s one for every moment in the last twelve years when he wanted to apologize to the Master, leaving his eyes burning. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop soon.”

“S’okay.” Ven tucks his ankles under, giving Terra time to process. Ven knows when a topic is too sensitive. But he can also tell when enough time has passed for the raw cuts to seal, when everyone’s ready to laugh. It’s his special gift. Only after Terra slows down does Ven lean forward. “Did you know you make this ugly face when you cry? You’re a train wreck.”

Terra yanks Ven’s head under his arm (Oomph, grunts Ven), locking his elbow around the neck.

Ven beats on Terra’s biceps. “Let go of me.”

Terra summons his pauldron, elbow pad, and gauntlet—for good measure. He licks salt from his lips and smirks, clutching Ven more, sinking him into the pecs. 

Ven coughs. “You smell horrible.”

“Nasty-horrible or heroic-horrible?”

“Do you make Aqua sniff your armpit? Let go of me.”

A poor mistake. Ven tumbles back when he’s let go, but he grabs Terra’s shirt before his head hits the floor. He punches it into Terra’s stomach so quickly that Terra isn’t allowed time to react or block, leaving a sprawled, black bruise over his abs. 

“Put a shirt on,” Ven says when Terra can’t rub it off. “Freak.”

~*~*~*~

Their bedroom door is ajar. Terra hears the shuffling of feet. He quiets his arrival, crumpling his messed-up shirt in a fist, and leans on the door frame to watch her. Aqua pulls a book out of a stack deftly with one hand, the other carrying a cheese pastry. She swallows a final bite, licking her fingers (something she’d never do in front of anybody else but him), and meditates on the chew before sitting at her desk. 

He likes her best like this: half-dressed, without her usual corset and sashes, down to nothing else except her shirt and shorts, simple and free. 

Her longest scar creeps out of her backless shirt. A snake, a reminder of the damage Keyblades are capable of: they never heal and barely fade. This is why wielders shouldn’t raise them against people. 

Gluing her attention to an open book, Aqua reaches over for more cheese pastry, but her hand meets a plate of crumbs. When she realizes, she snaps up, alert as if she’s been robbed, glancing over her shoulder for signs of movement. This is also something she would not appreciate anyone else seeing, how she’s afraid of being alone, how she’s paranoid that she’s actually not.

Terra steps in and taps her shoulder before she could ask him what happened to the pastry. “That looked delicious.” 

She blinks, slowly absorbing his words; she doesn’t feel well today, nothing to be ashamed of. Terra says nothing else. This way, he doesn’t bring more attention to the fact. He won’t touch her so she doesn’t feel coddled (despite how much he wants to). He won’t crack a dumb joke when there’s better moments for them. This way, she keeps her dignity. 

When Aqua sees the smears and handprints on him, her eyes finally find reality. “What happened to you?” She stands up and swipes the stain on his chest. It’s dry but not enough, leaving a mark of gray on her fingers. 

“An accident.” Terra clears his throat, trying to seem unbothered. Just another day in the castle. Everyone gets covered in ink, what’s the big deal?

If she hears the hesitation in his voice (and she should, she knows him too well), she doesn’t care, marching to their bathroom. The sink turns on. 

“What kind of an accident?” she calls. The water flow is disturbed. She’s washing her own hands first. 

“Eh, we spilled some ink,” Terra says, praying to the stars she won’t interrogate further. He tosses his ruined shirt into a wastebasket and opens the first dresser drawer for another. Gone are the days when Terra used to stuff his clothes into a heap; Aqua likes to fold every single article, his on one side and hers on the other. 

“What does that mean?”

“It’s fixable, I promise.” At least he hopes there’s some magic spell in some book somewhere that could lift ink out of cracks of wood.

He goes down one drawer for pants and it’s the same story. 

Down to the middle for socks and underwear, each tightly rolled. Tucked into the back of this one are two newly purchased books, their hardcovers wrapped in plain paper so that anyone peeking in couldn’t read the titles. Edited with illustrations of anatomy, they are lectures of techniques on what to try with your partner. Where to place your hands, how to play with your fingers and tongues, how to listen, when to take it slow and when to take it fast...

“Here,” Aqua says from behind him. She has a wet rag. It’s warm as she gently rubs it into his skin, across the spread of his chest. Her other hand is splayed on his hip. 

Just the thought of those books now, of slipping her out of that shirt, the stains on his stomach be damned—

“Am I going to get mad at you?”

Be damned. Terra smirks in a way to invite her to join along with him. “At both of us. But... You never stay too angry for too long so… Why worry about it?”

She pauses. “What are you rambling about?”

“Nothing.” He glances away. “It happened in the new classroom.”

She digs the rag into the groove above the diaphragm as if contemplating his vivisection. A stream of water drips over his belly button, into the hem of his pants, down the dips of his pelvis, between his inner thighs. Let her get mad. Be damned. 

“How bad is it?” Her voice is hard.

He caresses the small of her back, which is right now tense and stretched as she makes herself seem taller, like she’s about to take him on. “You’re smart. You’ll figure something out.” She opens her mouth to say something and he kisses the bottom lip. “I’ll do the dishes for three months. That’s enough atonement, right?”

Aqua clenches her teeth into a false smile, nails now leaving divots on his skin. “And the cooking.”

“Sounds fair.”

“And the gardening.”

“Now you’re pushing it.”

She continues to clean him, this time rubbing harder. It leaves his skin lightly raw. “You’re not in any position to bargain.”

“Do you expect me to beg?” 

“Then beg.”

Terra would be lying if he says he doesn’t find this side of her hot. She’s a splash of freshwater that would bring him back from the brink. The woman standing in front of him chooses to clean him despite the shower being paces away. She’s the same girl who would plant an extra candle on his birthday cakes, for the year to come. To her, maybe it meant little or nothing. Stars, she’s beautiful, and he doesn’t say it enough. 

“You’re doing better,” she says, leveling her voice, nodding to herself as if checking her information. That’s Aqua. Putting aside her annoyance for the sake of making sure he’s taken care of. “You’re not flinching as much.”

Maybe. Her touch is absolutely making the hairs on his neck stand. It is absolutely driving his dick insane. “You know, Ven’s okay with us.”

She stops. “He said something?”

“Kind of. He doesn’t want to know or see or hear anything.”

Her eyes go wide. “Excuse me?”

“He never said he actually heard anything.” He kisses her temple and lets it linger there, taking the opportunity to inhale her smell. Even when she sweats and spars for hours, there’s still a sweetness. Terra laughs into her hair. “He doesn’t want to know nicknames, either.”

Aqua flashes him a look.

“Now we have to,” says Terra. “We don’t have a choice.”

“What should we use?” Aqua moves to his abs, fighting an amused smile that’s twisting its way to her lips. 

“Terr-able.”

“That one is awful. I think Terr-bear fits you better.”

“So you admit I’m big, strong, and scary?”

“I admit you’re adorable sometimes.”

Terra purses his lips. “What about you?”

She shrugs. “Maybe Aquamarine.”

“How about Aquafina?”

“That’s worse.”

“Babe?”

“Absolutely not.”

“We could call him Ven-tilation.”

“Stop.”

He follows his instinct to lower his head so when she laughs with him, their lips meet. They kiss everyday, but the first taste of the hour is always the one to discharge his breath, like he’s been underwater and she’s giving him the chance to surface. 

“You’re going to get me dirty,” she says, giggling into his mouth.

He moves to her neck. “A little mess doesn’t hurt anybody.”

It’s when he brushes his fingers across her back, skating over the scar, coiled like rose thorns, that he hitches. Across from them is her vanity mirror. The scar is still red despite its age of twelve years. He’s so stupid. 

“This again?” she whispers. She’s not upset but disappointed, though in him or in herself, he can’t tell. Moments like these are weird, when he can’t read what she’s thinking. Working on the straps on his left arm, she pulls off his gauntlet, finger by finger. 

“I wish you would tell me,” he whispers back, as if having the conversation at a normal volume would shake them up. 

She turns his bracer to make its removal easier. “I already did.”

“I wish you would be honest with me.” He leans his chin on her head, feeling her fingers slide down his arm. 

“I am.” She flicks a knob and slips off the couter from his elbow. “You want me to tell you it was you who did this to me,” she continues, unbuckling the pauldron on his shoulder. “But it wasn’t.”

“I know better.”

“I know better.”

“It was done with my hands.”

To that she says nothing, rubbing the rag down his exposed left bicep. Ink had run under the armor. Darkness seeps in even with protection. 

She sighs. “Promise me you won’t obsess over it.”

He really shouldn’t but… he nods.

Aqua hesitates anyway. Taking him by the wrist, she presses his right hand on the rib under her left breast. “This one was his.” She warns with her eyes. “Not yours.”

Terra can’t feel anything through her shirt. He slips it under, running the pads of his fingers across the bumps and ridges. This one was his, this one with the gnarly tear right through the middle of the scar tissue, a ravine rupturing open. This one would have been done by that nameless silver Keyblade, with its sharp, ornate frills and that giant hook at the tip of it. It would have caught her skin as it tried to disconnect her body from her heart. And Terra? He’s had so much to lose and nothing to give back.

Terra holds his Aqua close as he continues to read the scar, how deep the hook sunk in, how she must have dodged back and broke that connection. 

“Did it hurt?” he asks. 

She sighs like she finds something amusing. Or trying to. She shudders, closing what little is left of the gaps between their bodies. “The Realm of Darkness numbs everything. I don’t think I felt it much.”

The view from their window looks over blossoming fields under mist, what’s left of snow capping just the mountaintops, everything else green. She’s lucky. So is he, ridiculously enough. 

“I should have done more to stop it,” he says.

“You can’t continue to say things like that.” She swallows and stares at the wall. “What about the person I’ve become? I wouldn’t be here, standing in this room, now. It changed me. The Realm of Darkness did things to me that I’ll never be able to claim back. I will never be able to remedy it. I never wanted it, but I don’t know if I deserved it.”

“You didn’t.”

“I couldn’t make mistakes, in case I got hurt. I couldn’t be vulnerable. I had to be brave.”

“You already are.” 

“And now I’m like stone.”

Terra presses his forehead to hers. “No, you’re not like stone at all.”

Aqua buries her face into his shoulder, anchoring herself to his waist. It’s so unlike her, to be unable to look him directly in the eyes. Whatever she has to say scares her. “You’re here, and I’m here. I give you my scars and you give me yours and… I don’t know if I would trade that for something else. For something that looks better on the outside. Every moment we shared since you woke up, how could I want to erase them? I need you, Terra. I have to chip away somehow. I’m braver now, to hold you like this.”

She says it like she has her chest cavity open, heart beating to open air. 

She’s brave for not crying. 

She’s brave for telling him what she can’t say right now. I’m braver now, to hold you like this. (I love you.)

He lifts her chin to kiss her. (I loved you first.) 

She drops the rag to hold his face. 

Before, their kisses were desperate, thirsty and famished, hoping to be found. Now, they’re deliberate, wandering but not lost. She tastes like sugar and flesh, her tongue inside with his, slow and careful. Their needs have more definition this time: please, and more, and yes, again. 

Terra indulges in the impulse to press her onto him. She should feel how greedy he is, her chest arched against his. She’s soft and he’s in love. 

“Where is Ven?” she says, breathless. 

“Probably showering,” he mumbles.

She waves her hand and the door slams shut. 

“I said probably,” Terra murmurs, but his mind turns off when she kisses him again. Who cares what Ven hears?

Aqua treads slower. She tempts Terra’s tongue to seek her out, puckering her lips around it and giving it a small tug. 

“Touch me, please,” he begs.

The sound of his pants unbuttoning makes his heart hammer, his entire groin anticipating for what’s next. When, when, when. Terra closes his eyes. Her hand glides down, palm first, his breath snagging when she wraps her fingers around his erection. His pants are at his ankles, Aqua is on her knees, and she presses a kiss right under the tip, where it’s most sensitive, before licking the entire length. Terra buckles. He catches the dresser behind him to keep standing. 

“Shhh,” she breathes onto him. It shoots a spark from his stomach to his scalp. 

Terra braces his teeth with his finger to shut himself up. He watches her work. She takes him in bite-size pieces, snail-tracking with her tongue before her lips close in on him. Fuck. She sucks while she pulls. Fuck. To see her like this, Master Aqua with poise, with grace, with affection and care—with him in her mouth. The hand wrapped around him squeezes tighter, and the other comes up to meet him at the testicles. 

He stifles another moan, staring at the ripples of the drywall, listening to the feathered tap of spring rain on the window and the noise she’s making. His erection twitches against the roof of her mouth, and he has to restrain himself from thrusting into her. Maybe he can let go and let be, finally throw himself off the cliff, ride the thrill all the way. Give it his all.

But he can’t. The moment gooseflesh spreads across his inner thighs, the moment he feels full, is the start. The floor will rip out from under him, the lights will go off, he will fall, he will lose all his fingers, he won’t remember anything, he’ll be the monster who makes her cry.

“I can’t,” he hisses, pushing her off. “I can’t.” He lurches over his knees, his insides twisting at the sudden cutoff, aching as it throbs and shrivels. He was so close. They were just laughing a few minutes ago. Stupid body, stupid mind. “Damn it,” he groans, pounding the dresser.

“Hey, you’re okay,” she says softly, holding him by the elbow. “You’re safe at home.”

“It doesn’t feel that way.” He digs his eyes into his palm, his body faraway like it’s a glass vial with his soul dumped inside. “Help me.”

Without letting him go, Aqua braces him with something cold—the rag, now on his lower back. It slaps him back to the bedroom, his beige carpet, the mist outside clearing out to a view of a forest that separates the castle from the mountains. 

She greets him with a smile. “You really did something to yourself,” she says, cleaning him like it’s a lazy weekend day and there’s a list of chores. 

Terra straightens up, shivers riding all the way up to his shoulders. “It’s so frustrating.”

“Don’t worry, Terra,” she says, softer and lower. “There’s no need to rush. I’ll wait.”

“But I’m tired of feeling caged up and stuck. I just want some semblance of control.” 

Aqua kisses him on the shoulder to shoo away the haunting for a few seconds. “I’m here, anytime you need me. Would you like me to run you a bath?”

“No.” The rag is likely caked with ink, but its iciness is unlike the chill of clammy sweat a few seconds old. Every frigid touch is a reminder that he’s alive. “This is nice.”

Aqua runs the rag up his spine. “You know what I think? If we’re going to call each other pet names in front of Ven, we should have guests over.”

Terra snorts. “That’s evil.”

“He won’t be able to bark at us in front of other people.”

“I think I’m a bad influence on you.”

“I think you’re right.”

Terra sighs at her touch, cold at his neck, at his hairline. Like a light at the front porch in the dead of night, like hot tea on a sick day, she is what it feels like to come home.

She tells him, “Lean your head back a little,” and he obliges, letting her reach behind his ears. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen, her hair frizzy, eyes blue and focused as she takes care of him. 

“I can still kiss you, right?” 

“You don’t have to ask.”

Tilting his chin down, he does. He braids his fingers into hers; from the rag they’re like icicles, and he brings them to his heart. 

They’re barely millimeters apart, but he’s still in that cage. If only he could be touched the way he needs. If only the lock trapping him inside the cage is brittle and easy to crumble. What if he tries to test it? What if he finds there is nothing at all? Stupid mind. What if there are several, each of them needing unique keys when he has none, no hope of ever knowing what real freedom is? Stupid body. 

Should he pretend? Should he try over and over, to slam his head against the bars each time? Should he submit, should he accept he will never have what he wants? 

Life has made him uneager to trust. But her lips have a deliciousness unmatched by anything he’s ever tasted, and he’s still a silly, stupid man.

“Let me try again,” he says, breathing deeply. “I want to make you feel good.”

She’s surprised. “Only if you’re comfortable.”

“It will make me feel better.”

“...Okay,” she says so modestly. Terra never figured out how to knock it into her head that he wants to give her everything, that he is so, so guilty.

He invites her into an embrace, growing desperate the more he detaches his mind. Her body, the curve from her waist to her hips. The brush of her body against his reminds him that while he is naked, she is not. He picks her up by the thighs. Lost in the momentum of deep kisses, he carries her to bed, straddling her on his lap.

She hums. “The… the sheets.”

Dry, messy layers of ink still track down his legs. He groans into her mouth. She’s grinding him, and while he really likes that, it makes it incredibly difficult to take her clothes off, one hand rising the hem of her shirt and the other deep under her shorts, cupping her ass. 

“Whatever, we can wash them later,” she says, lifting her arms up. 

Her bare breasts—stars, this is what it feels like to come home. 

“Kiss me,” she says, and he replies, nibbling down her neck, coming down to her breasts, where his lips and his tongue and his murmurs take in her nipples as they perk. Aqua stays quiet, leaning onto his shoulders. 

There’s something about her amazing body, the silk of skin draped over defined muscle, treasure and tenderness in his hands, that he’s needy for. Every time he tries to define what that means, his mind ceases to function. 

Xehanort tried to take it all away from him. If he lived, Terra would crush every tooth bloody. Damn him.

How dare Xehanort do this to him, lock him in this cage, keep him away from her? Damn him.

Why is he thinking about Xehanort?

“Are you okay?”

Terra is frozen, the nub of a nipple suctioned in his mouth. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

He lets her breast go with a pop. “I’m redirecting.” Leading her to the mattress, Terra lowers himself into her arms, but he’s halted by a light kiss and a hold of his face.

“Do you need me to check in on you?” she asks.

“No.” He smiles, kissing her with all the hope that she psychically understands his body is about to burst open, if only from the lack of space for the appreciation he keeps nurturing for her. “Thank you, but I’m okay.”

She nods, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. “You take your time.”

Oh, he will. No more interruptions. Focus on the smell of her skin, on the collarbone at the base of her neck. Right here, it makes her bite her lip. On the hollow between her breasts, the sound of her breath getting heavy. On the slight movement of her legs as she instinctively responds, spreading them, hooking around his. The buoyancy of her breasts in his mouth. The way she arches to push them against his face. 

Under that left breast is the scar, tightly knitted.

The purpose for living is for memories, not reminders. Do not linger. Do not think about the cage. Terra lightly kisses it and continues downward. 

Terra’s fingers glide down, a caress at the hips, a squeeze of her ass, running a mile of goosebumps as he bunches her shorts and panties and pulls them off. Her skin is streaked with fingerprints of gray, at most of the places he’s been. Aqua shivers as his lips brush the sides of her waist, as he traces his tongue and inhales the dips of her pelvis, as he loops his arms under her thighs, as he kisses her between the legs. She gasps. He licks from bottom to top, sucking on the clitoris once, then starts over.

Footsteps walk by outside their bedroom door.

Aqua jerks up. “Terra,” she whispers, warning him.

“Hm?” Stars, what now? “Here.” He grabs the comforter and throws it over her head. She chuckles as she wraps both of them in hiding. “Relax,” he whispers back. “He’s not going to hear anything.” Not that Ven opts to stay; his footsteps are already fading away.

He goes back to work, and hears her sigh—it’s loud enough to make him look up but too hushed to escape the sheets. Bottom to top. Again. Again. She cloaks the sound of her moans with the comforter plastered on her face. 

It’s her taste. It’s the softness and suppleness of the skin between her legs. The way she fastens her knees over his shoulders, how wet she is. Her reaction. When he tongues the inside of her slit, she jerks, chewing her lip hard enough to make it white. Master Aqua, with poise and grace, for her there’s only love and the way his tongue curls up. 

Her fist crumples the sheet—it holds her own breast, caresses her stomach down to rake through his hair and hold him there. 

“Don’t stop,” she breathes.

Stars, that did it. He’s hard again. He drapes his arms over her pelvis, using his fingers to open her up so he has more access to her clit. She bucks, and he holds her down. 

Her entire body trembles: the first sign that she’s running off her own edge. 

Terra strokes her, the outside lips, the tease inside, the puckering motions. She’s a sweet, musky taste he can’t compare to anything else.

Aqua throws herself back on the pillow. Her thighs crush his head, and she clamps her hand on her mouth like a topper. Her mewl shudders and stops, it heaves, it mumbles. The wave rises then crashes, and she finishes with a long sigh, a release, a settlement, a tempered peace.

It feels so good to listen to her. Terra rests his head on her hip and brings a hand to his erection. A little bit of freedom paid with a little bit of control. 

“I’m ready,” he says. “I need you.”

She hums in contentment, fixing the comforter so they’re completely covered and opening her arms to him. “Come here.”

Terra crawls over her, bracketing her body like he’s a fort, tethering her fingers to his and cradling her head in a protective halo with his arms. Aqua has to spread her legs wide to take on his thick waist, and she breaks her kisses with whimpers when he enters—she’s always more sensitive after he goes down on her. 

She’s warm and tight, oh stars. Massaging him as he moves inside her. Their bodies compress into each other, hers curled up to mold against the way he rocks his hips, as though the subtle air between would have split them up too far, as though he can melt into her when he pushes, their hearts only separated by muscle and bone. He plants a messy kiss on her cheek, exhaling and inhaling in rhythms opposite of hers, her breath loud against his ear, tickling his neck.

Here it comes again, the oncoming of the precipice where he has to step off. 

Fuck.

He can’t do it.

At the sprint towards the edge of the cliff, he skids and scrambles to hang by the rockface. Terra grunts, all his muscles seizing up as he holds his breath.

Aqua strokes his hair. “Do you want to stop?”

Of course not. “Give me a minute.”

“Remember, you’re safe.”

Terra nearly chokes. “I’m scared of losing control.”

“You won’t. You’re in control.”

In control. The intent to wring his fingers through the bars, a sleight of hand to balance the padlock like it’s on strings, turning it over and pulling it out of the latch. But Terra is no escape artist. 

Terra licks his lips. He’s not in danger. He should trust she’ll catch him when he falls. In her arms, there’s no safer place to be. He has to remember this. Shut that mind up.

“I want to continue.” 

She rubs his back. It’s soothing. “Tell me what you need.”

Terra smirks. “To get back in the mood.” He takes one deep kiss. “Entice me.”

Her insides squeeze him and he trembles. “How is that?” she asks.

“Do it again.”

She wraps her ankles over his back and squeezes. He hums into her shoulder. 

“Again.”

This time, she takes back her kiss.

“Don’t let me go,” he says, and she hugs him tightly. 

He starts slow. Terra leans on his elbows, bunching the comforter in his fist so it stays in place. She looks at him with half-lidded eyes, a healthy red blush, her mouth gently open, cast in the filtered glow of a secret, sweaty cocoon. This body he’s thrusting into, the lips he’s kissing, may the stars bless her. 

“Aqua.”

“You feel so good.”

She stole the words right out of his mouth, squeezing his hips again. 

“Oh,” he moans. It provokes him to thrust harder, deeper, feel her, feel her breasts bouncing under him, feel her moans coming from her throat, the desperation in the way she squirms with her hands. She massages his slick back, her nails digging in.

There. 

Let him throw himself off. Give it his all.

“Don’t let me go,” he repeats.

“I won’t.”

He throws himself off. It’s not the wind thrashing him all the way down. Instead it’s fire, a combustion of flames in his muscles as his entire body submits to its force, leaving his knees weak. A flash of white that blurs everything he sees, a hurricane that knocks his mind into a stupor, a delicious burn that slicks over his body, trickling embers on top of sweat, hot and cool, good and better, good and fucking good. Terra shoves his face into her shoulder to muffle the sounds of groans escaping him, shuddering as the climax picks up again, a body alight in an ignition that throws him out of any awareness. 

His eyes prick when he finally remembers where he is. Aqua is safeguarding him with a strong hold, keeping him in place with her. He sighs. The cinders that continue to radiate heat leave him with a hearth to wrap himself into, a happiness that he never thought he would ever feel again.

Aqua sniffs. She wipes tears onto his shoulder.

“We really should stop crying at these things,” he says.

She snorts, refusing to let her grip on him slack. “You did amazing. How are you feeling?”

“I’m…” he mumbles. Stars, wow. His arms can’t pick him up anymore but it’s a gratifying cloud to ride. He shifts his legs, alleviating the weight of his body. “A little weak.” 

She runs a hand on the back of his head, coaxing him to rest on her chest. “When did you know?” she asks, brushing hair off his damp forehead. “That you wanted to kiss me? You must have spent some time thinking about it before it happened.”

Terra smiles into her chest. Somehow, they’ve never talked about it. “Long after I knew I was going to marry you.”

He feels her laugh. “Is that so? I’m going to marry you?”

“You will.” He looks up at her grinning face. “I can see the future.”

She scoffs. “You can see my eyes rolling at you.”

“I knew before you did.”

“Prove it.”

“I was seven.”

“You’re older than me, that doesn’t count.”

“You asked me to have a tea party with you, but the one thing that bothered you most”—he brings up his hand, pinky out—“was that I wasn’t drinking my tea right.” He mimics the high pitch of a little girl’s voice. “Pinky out. Pinky out, Terra, don’t be a slob.”

She gapes. “I don’t remember any of that.”

With renewed will, he props himself up, leaning close so their noses touch. “I knew then. That early on.”

“Since when is this a competition?”

“Still the first to know.”

Aqua interrupts what she’s about to say, like she’s about to step into cold water. She’s having an epiphany. Vulnerable again, like she’s allowing him to cut her right down the middle. 

“I love you.”

She says it like the touch of a high note on a piano, a beautiful accident. 

He leans closer, lips to lips, whispering, “I still got there first.” 

She laughs into him. “I suppose, but I was the first to say it.”

“Then I’ll be the second,” Terra says. Like coming home, a shelter to withstand the downpour, that births life to the roots, that thunders, that opens for a clear day, he brushes her hair out of her eyes. “I love you.”

“Too,” she corrects. “You love me, too.” 

A knock on their door jolts them, like a hard punch to the stomach.

“Okay, Terra,” Ven says from the other side. “I thought about it and I’m trying out this knocking thing.”

Wrong timing. Wrong timing.

“I’m going to kill him,” Terra hisses, and against Aqua’s hushed chuckles, he throws the comforter off their bodies and announces, “Ven, we’re naked.”

The silence that comes after is as loud as the crash of a chandelier. Terra can feel Ven recoil, a tea pot at the verge of whistling. “I didn’t need to know that!” Terra is about to reply but Ven groans dramatically. “I AM NEVER GOING TO KNOCK ON YOUR DOOR AGAIN.”

Ven stomps away, and if the door was actually open, he’d slam it. 

Terra sits on his knees, pinching his nose. It’s hot in this room. He feels clogged again, back at the edge of the cliff. He wants to strangle Ven for dragging the moment away from him. “Great, I pissed him off.”

“Poor Ven.” When she sits up, Terra pulls her to him, sitting her on one of his thighs. “I can’t predict if he’ll ever get over that,” she says, balancing herself by hooking her arms around his neck. 

Terra presses his lips to her ear, whispering, “But I did predict that you wouldn’t stay mad at me for long.”

She slaps his bicep. “I haven’t seen what you’ve done yet. Don’t be so proud of yourself.”

“But I am.”

“You’re still a slob.”

Slobby as he is, Aqua hugs him dearly. Hold her, you never know when the dream will end. You never know when the cage takes you back.

“I don’t know if,” Terra says, “it will be difficult for me next time.”

“Then it may be difficult,” Aqua says, kissing his forehead. “But it will be okay.”

Hold her. Not passively. Not half-minded. Hold her tightly. Hold her in the quiet, undisturbed, uninterrupted.

A drop of hot liquid spills from between her legs and drips down his thigh, almost burning. When Terra looks down to see that it’s white, Aqua jumps.

“Oh,” she squeaks.

“Oh. That would be me.”

She squeals, hiding her blush. “I’m going to wash up.” 

“Such a slob.”

Aqua giggles, looking him in the eye when she rubs his chest. “Come with me?”

“Go ahead.” He kisses her. “I’ll catch up.”

If anyone told him twelve years ago that hope feels like a long day full of small conversations, the anticipation of cleaning a messy room, Terra would have considered that cynical. A sarcastic joke, the loss of the will to dream. 

Twelve years later, it’s the sound of the shower running that teaches him to look forward to the next day, when he wakes up next to her, when he prepares dinner with her, when he kisses her in the middle of the night and play all over again. Peace is a long-distance acquaintance, a pen pal that urges you to look at your day like a spectacle.

Terra leans back to twist the latch of the window open, letting the spring haze billow in. Much better, the room is cooler now. The sky is bluer somehow, the mountains as grand as a painting.

#terraqua #terra #aqua #terraqua day #ventus #kingdom hearts fanfiction #kh fanfic #smut #lemon #AHHHHHHHHH #it's finally here #i am so fucking nervous #my fic

[baeklination]

Ocean: the deep (2)

Pic: comma.

Date: 210114

Warnings/Contains: angst, abuse (ment./emot.), gen.explicit language

Pairing: au! Baekhyun x F. Reader

WC: 7,9k

NOTE: It’s not all angst, but describing it as fluff feels off. On sensitive/explicit topics.

Prologue  Masterlist

                                    ¤¤

Alot of us tell ourselves “I’d know”, but chances are you wouldn’t. Not if they didn’t want you to. And if they did, showed you a sliver of the truth, would you be brave enough to see it instead of thinking up an excuse? 

                                     ¤¤

“Are you okay?”, Beanie asks, putting the break on her stroller so you can sit down on the park bench.

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine. A little tired. Still getting used to drinking wine instead of mixed drinks I guess.”

“No, not you. I mean you guys, you and Baekhyun.”

“What do you mean? You saw him last night.” Doubt finding its way to your mind - she has after all known him for longer than you. “Did...Did he say something to you?”

“No, but I noticed…”, she turns to you, stalling. “Don’t get mad, alright?”

“Why would I get mad?”

“Just… I’m gonna say something and I don’t want you to get mad at me.”

“Okay, I won’t get mad, Bean. What?”

“I’ve been married to Minnie for a while now, so I see Baekhyun alot, and I’ve heard some things - rumours I guess - that maybe, you know…”

“Don’t say it, Bean. Please don’t say it.” Heart sinking, you brace yourself and ask her.

“That he sleeps around..?”

“No, not that. More that he’s maybe...not so...kind.” 

“What..?”, you burst out.

“Like I said, it’s rumours, I never really hung out with his girlfriends before, so I wouldn’t know. But I…”

Beanie’s fidgeting makes your throat tighten.

“I feel like Baekhyun used to dote on you, but lately he’s been acting more like...your dad.”

“That’s ridiculous..!”, you say, swatting your hand in the air. “Besides, don’t dads dote on their kids, hm?” 

“But you’re not his daughter”, she says bluntly, fixing her eyes on you.

“Are you talking about something specific that happened last night?”

                                          ¤¤

  Hearing the lock turn you breathe a sigh of relief; having a dinner party at home without the owner of said home wasn’t your plan. Baekhyun stops in the living room to greet his guests and engage in the usual banter - as if he didn’t see half of them earlier in the day - before you hear his footsteps nearing the kitchen. 

“Sorry I’m late, sweetie. I just couldn’t seem to get out..!”, he huffs.

Putting on your best Suzy Homemaker air (jokingly, of course), you turn around with your arms open.

“You’re just in time, Baekhyun. Honestly, I just took the lasagna out of the oven.”

“Wow, this looks great…”, Baekhyun says, taking the sight of your carefully planned dishes in before kissing you. “But…Are you wearing that?”, he says leaning back, his eyes slightly narrowing.

“Hm? You picked this dress. Don’t you remember?”, you say puzzled.

“Of course I remember. But it’s...more for me, isn’t it? Just me. Maybe put on something more modest?”

“Modest..?”, you laugh. “This isn’t worse than any of the other girls...” 

“Well, you don’t have to be like them, do you? You’re my girl, aren’t you?”, he coos.

You know he’s being overly sensitive, but it won’t cost your ego much to change - not as much as this dinner ruined would, so you lift your hands up in defeat.

“Okay, you win”, you sigh.

His smile lights up not only his face, but your entire being. His hands on your cheeks is a promise of sweet touches to be given later on; his lips one of your name being whispered in love.

“I’ll set the table, sweetie.”

¤

“You changed your dress?”, Beanie asks.

“Serves me right for not wearing an apron”, you chuckle as you sit down.

Baekhyun takes your hand and smiles. 

“Please, everyone”, you gesture to the fully laden table “enjoy.”

                                        ¤¤

“No, I mean in general.”

“Well, in general, you’ve nothing to worry about. Sure, I don’t get flowers delivered every other day like before, but that’s because I practically live with him now. You know how it is”, you say, gesturing to her stroller. “The beginning is always a fairytale, and then it becomes something else. You don’t need all the trimmings when you realise you…”

“Love each other?”, Beanie says, leaning forward with big eyes.

“Yeah…”, you say, shrugging your shoulders.

“Baekhyun said the L word to you..!”

“A month ago. And every day since. God, why am I embarrassed to say it!? Stop laughing, Bean!”

“I’m sorry. This is great!”, Beanie replies, clapping her hands. “Now I feel bad for dragging him like that...”

“I won’t tell on you.” You sit quiet for a moment, then continue. “And when you say “dad”, if you mean how he sometimes suggests things for me to do, or wear, I dunno, it’s because I’ve asked him to. You know I’m not from around here, so sometimes when we go places, say for dinner, I want to know what cutlery to use, or what those goddamn french words mean, you know. It’s embarrassing - for me - to be so obviously misplaced…”

“Shit, don’t I know it…”, Beanie shakes her head. “What? You know I grew up on the other side. First time Minnie took me to a corporate event...he called it “a party”, so you know I rolled up in my shortest sequin number and my highest glitter heels… Shit, the looks I got!”, she wheezes.

“Those stiffs must’ve thought you were the entertainment!”

“Hey! But you’re right. I tell you, Minnie didn’t get any for a week.”

After wiping her tears Beanie gets serious again:

“I’m sorry, alright? Only looking out for you. But who knows...soon I might be looking for a maid of honour attire”, she smirks.

You cross your fingers and smile back.

                                         ¤¤

“I’ll be a happy man the day I don’t have to read the name Seung Inc. again”, Baekhyun sighs and slumps down on the couch, lifting your head to rest on his thigh.

“Settlement getting the better of you?”

“Their stupidity might”, he chuckles, giving you a kiss. “I’ll take Ga’ round the block before bed.”

“No, I can do it.”

“I could use some fresh air. And your overdramatic drama starts soon, doesn’t it?”

“It’s a perfectly lifelike show, Baekhyun. What, you mean your boss doesn’t slap you cross the face?”, you giggle, remembering his disbelief at the scene.

“No, but I might slap him one of these days. Come on Ga’”, he says, getting up and patting his thigh. “Gawa, come here.”

Gawa doesn’t move, so you nudge him off of the couch:

“Go!”

“Why do I always have to call that dog three times?”, Baekhyun shakes his head.

“What that dog thinks is anyone’s guess. He probably likes the way you say his name. Don’t forget-”

“Bags. I know.”

  Feeling a little antsy you busy yourself with a bit of tidying up in the kitchen, emptying the dishwasher, wiping the counters and the like. There’s really no need, as you’ve already done it, but it’s something to do while waiting for Baekhyun to come back, for him to go to bed. “Take it easy. It’s just a search, what’s gonna happen? Nothing. It’s not true, so nothing.” 

When he’s finally tucked in you bring in his water bottle - which he always forgets - and put it on the nightstand. 

“Thanks.”

“All set?”

“Beyond all set…”

“Mm, I can see you won’t need a bedtime story to fall asleep”, you say, running your fingers through his hair.

“Depends…”, he says, seemingly half asleep. “Depends on the story”, he smiles, guiding your hand downwards.

You pull it away. When he doesn’t even bother opening his eyes you know he wasn’t serious anyway, so you turn off the light and say goodnight, closing the door behind you.

                                     ¤¤ 

  Finishing your show you mute the TV and sit still for a while, making sure you can’t hear any sound except Gawa’s snoozing. “Let’s just do this.” You grab your computer and start reading. You’re relieved to find you can’t relate to most of the things you read, but once in a while the text makes you stop;

Patronizing; one month: 

Going through your phone Baekhyun had laughed when you suggested he wouldn’t like finding you going through his. “Go ahead. But I doubt you’d be able to discern anything.��

“What, ‘cus I’m not a corporate lawyer suddenly I’m dumb..?”

“No...But put it this way. Since I am a lawyer I know certain things. But you know things I don’t, sweetie. Like scanning barcodes, or working a cash register. That’s more your thing”, he had smiled. 

You had definitely felt some kind of way about the conversation. But seeing as he’d already said he wasn’t calling you dumb you didn’t find the words to approach it without it seeming like you were picking a fight.

“Joking”: Two months:

 “Baekhyun, I don’t think this is my size. Why’d you cut the label off?”

“It was huge. I knew you’d do it anyway. Maybe you’ve gained weight…”,  he said, chuckling at how the fabric cut into your waist.

You knew you hadn’t, and comparing it to your other trousers, the one he bought was definitely smaller.

Monitoring your whereabouts: three months:

Stacking condiments on the shelf at work you’d seen him coming down the aisle; a lovely surprise in the middle of a long shift. “Hi..! What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone, just wanted to see you’re okay.”

“I don’t have it on me, you know that.”

“Okay, you got me. I was gonna pretend I wanted snacks, but really I missed you.”

You had found it adorable that he’d gotten into the car just to see you. But had he maybe done it to see if your text was true - if you were really covering a shift for a sick coworker? 

“Sweetie…”

Drunk with sleep you rub your eyes. Baekhyun is kneeling next to the couch, the white light from your laptop making him an angelic figure in the otherwise dark room.

“Oh”, you scrunch your face. “I must’ve fallen asleep…”

“You must have”, he says, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Who’s being abused?”

You jerk, suddenly fully awake, and look at your screen: “Signs to look out for”. You scramble to sit up and close the web browser.

“No, Beanie just-”

“Minnie’s abusing Beanie?”

“No. Someone in her mom circle...she thought maybe. I don’t know…” You know it’s impossible Baekhyun doesn’t hear the lie, but he doesn’t let on. “I just thought I’d see if there’s anything she could look...out for, you know. She’s busy with the baby and all...”, you shrug your shoulders, trying to brush it off as nothing special.

“If she’s that busy maybe she shouldn’t put her nose in other people’s business”, he says, cocking his head.

There’s an almost undetectable smile on his lips which sends a shiver through your body.

“It’s not like that, she-”

“Come to bed”, he says getting up on his feet.

“I... Come on, Gawa.”

“No, he stays. I don’t want him in the room.”

  There’s something distinctly different in how his shoulders look as he walks away. Something that makes you drag out your visit to the bathroom, hoping he’ll be asleep by the time you’re done. Tiptoeing into your room you breathe a sigh of relief, until you get into bed and he immediately rolls over to hug you. Any other day this would’ve been nothing less than what you expected - and wanted - but now all you can think of is how fast your heart is beating, and whether he can feel it or not. And Beanie…“What if he asks her? I can’t tell her to lie for me, then I’d have to explain why I did it in the first place…” But your thoughts are interrupted when Baekhyun exhales loudly into your neck and pulls your body closer, easing you out of your underwear.

                                         ¤¤

  Cutting the alarm at 08.15 you sit up to find the bed empty. Well, empty of Baekhyun. He’d let the door stay open for Gawa to jump into bed, as he is now halfheartedly wagging his tail, looking at you. The fact that he’s not already in your face, vying for your attention means Baekhyun has both walked and fed him. And that means he’s not angry with you about last night.

“Ay, ay”, you sigh getting out of bed, tying your robe tightly. “Maybe I should cut back even more on my hours like he wants. Whaddya say, Ga’? Staying home watching dramas all day, wouldn’t that be something?” 

 Shuffling out to the kitchen you see a note on the counter: “I’m meeting Seung Inc.redible ass for dinner. Home early, call me if you want take out.” Baekhyun always ends his notes with a star. Never a heart, or a smiley, but a star. Today it makes you pause, mulling last night over in your head. Not so much thinking as feeling. “Sweetie…” Nothing had happened, yet deep down you know something had. But since it is deep down you swat it away with ease, going about your day as planned. 

  Coming back to your apartment to find half of your plants either dead or hanging on to life by a thread was the twig that broke the back of your dubble home lifestyle. The surfaces being covered in dust and your clothes smelling stuffy was just icing on said broken back. 

“...and cleaning up feels like a waste since I’ll be gone and the same thing’s gonna happen..”, you complain over the phone to Baekhyun. 

“Sweetie..? Are you asking me if you can move in with me..?”, Baekhyun says at the other end. You can tell he has a smile on his face.

“Wha-no… I’m not”, you laugh, suddenly realising that’s exactly what it sounds like. “I was just venting.”

“So you don’t wanna move in with me?”

If you say yes it will really seem as if you were fishing, so you just stare at the phone. 

“You there…?”

“Yeah, I just… Are you really asking?”

“Yes…”

What you want to do is swing from your lamp like it’s a merry-go-round and scream, but you keep it cool, clearing your throat.

“Well, it’s a pretty big decision. Of course I’d say yes, but I have to confer with my associate.”

“This associate of yours, does it happen to be a big furry thing who is probably lying next to you, listening in..?”

“Maybe…”

“Mr. Gawa, I’m gonna make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

“Baekhyun! I’ve seen that movie - it’s not a good offer..!”, you holler.

“Okay, okay”, he laughs. “My offer is love. Good enough?”

You scrunch your face and smother a yelp of delight.

“Good enough, Baekhyun…”

“Great”, he huffs. “Typical Seung, calling to rain on my happy moment… You’ll come home tonight then?”

“My first night as the lady of the manor, wouldn’t miss it. Go easy on him..! Love you.”

“Love you. Bye.”

  You sit in disbelief for a moment. Did an everyday phone call with Baekhyun just end in you moving in with him? A dozen unfinished thoughts goes through your mind; giving up the apartment seems daunting somehow; what do I do with all my stuff; does he have room for what I wanna bring..? But it is mostly happy thoughts painted in pink.

“Hope this puts an end to the tiffs we’ve had lately. Brings it back to how it was before”, you sigh. “Look alive, Gawa - you’re moving up in the world..!”, you say, wrestling with him for a bit.

                                           ¤¤ 

“Agh!”, you huff, kicking your shoes off in the hallway and dropping your bag on the floor.

Baekhyun, for once home earlier than you, gives you a curious look from the sofa.

“Rough day?”

“My car won’t start..!”

“How’d you get home?”

“It was fine, but when I turned the ignition off my headlights wouldn’t go out, so I was gonna do it again, but it wouldn’t start. I’ve been sitting in the parking lot for fifteen minutes revving the engine like Wacky Races..! I had to cut the battery ‘cus of the lights”, you complain, slumping down next to him with your head in his lap. “I was so angry I almost forgot Ga’ in the car. Ahh, that fucking car, Baekhyun..!”, you laugh desperately.

“You gonna leave it at the shop?”

“I can’t afford it right now. Not again.”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll pay for it.” 

“I don’t want you to. I’ll take the bus.”

“What’s a bus?”, Baekhyun frowns, choking a smile.

You roll your eyes at him and shake your head, as if you don’t think him playing with high class manners is funny. 

“Wait, I wanna lie down”, he says, stretching out on the couch with you as his blanket.

“I’ll give you money for the cab tomorrow”, he says, kissing your hand.

“There’s no cab. I’m taking the bus. But thank you.”

“Some start to being the lady of the manor… Speaking of which, did you give your… How many months is the notice...?”

“Three. No, I…”, you pause.

Baekhyun shakes his head a little, a question.

“I thought you might wanna talk it over.”

“We already did..? You having second thoughts?”

“Of course not..! It was just in case, since I was whining about it, maybe you asked...on the spur of the moment, kinda?”

His honeyed laughter rings in your ears.

“You think I’d ask you to move in on the spur of the moment?”

“Well, no...when you say it like that it sounds different..!”

“ Ah, what to do with you, sweetie”, he sighs. “You wanna have a party maybe?”

“A party?”

“Not a rave, but invite a few people, you know.”

“Hm...eh, I hadn’t...hm, okay.”

“We don’t have to.”

“No, I just hadn’t thought about it. It’ll be fun, let’s do it. Wait, I don’t even know - do you have a storage room in the building? If my stuff can fit there or whether I should rent something?”

“You’re bringing your things here, aren’t you?”

“I mean the big things, my furniture and…”

“You don’t need them anymore, just throw them out? Or are you planning on leaving me..?”, Baekhyun teases.

“Nooo. But I spent money on them, I don’t wanna just chuck ‘em out.”

“It’s stupid, but do as you wish”, he sighs.

“It’s not. Humour me. For a while at least.”

In these mundane things is where your heart is, feeling Baekhyun’s breathing and warmth through his thin t-shirt while he watches the news, lightly scratching the nape of your neck, but otherwise paying no particular attention to you. 

                                         ¤¤ 

  Even though you at first hadn’t a thought of having a moving-in party, the thought really grew on you, and you decided to throw something together. It was all rather ad-hoc: drinks, ramyun, games, a few shiny balloons you’d gotten from work and a dozen guests. Most of them were from Baekhyun’s office, but that didn’t matter, you knew and liked them well enough. Oddly enough, Beanie hadn’t gotten back to you today. You knew she was coming, she’d been too excited about the news not to, but you couldn’t get a hold of her now. You’d been checking your phone so often it was borderline rude, so you’d left it in the kitchen for some peace of mind, but now hearing your ringtone you excuse yourself and dash to get it. It’s not her.

“Hey, I forgot the code to the gate..?”

“Didn’t I send you a text with it?”

“Oh… I forgot that to..! Sorry, be right up.”

  Without being unappreciative of the friends that are here you can’t help missing the one who isn’t. You could probably drink and laugh away the night with anyone of these people, but with Beanie it’s different. You don’t know if it’s because both of you are from “the other side of the tracks” and somehow ended up in fancy places, but you do know your connection with her was instant, like meeting your twin from another lifetime. You know her word is her bond and that’s why her silence unnerves you.

“Problem?”

A little startled, you spin around to see Baekhyun.

“Nah, just Katy asking for the code.”

“Really..?”, he frowns. “You seem a bit…” 

“I thought it might be Bean…”, you shrug your shoulders. “Can you try Minnie, please?”

“He’s out of town on business”, Baekhyun replies casually.

“What?”

“He had to go, sweetie.”

“Had to go? Don’t you decide that?”

“What’s your point?”

“Well… Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Baekhyun cocks his head to the side. It makes your chest tighten.

“You want me to ask you how to do my job?”

“Of course not”, you say, deflated. “I’m just disappointed.”

“Well, you have guests in the other room. Maybe you should think more about them instead of sitting in here having a tantrum over someone who doesn’t even answer your calls. Shouldn’t you?”

You don’t want to let Baekhyun off the hook for not telling you about Min, but you know it wouldn’t make a difference if you continued. 

“I just don’t get why Beanie’s not picking up… What if something’s wrong?”

“She has a kid, she’s probably busy. And at this hour”, he says, looking at his watch “...she probably has her phone on mute. Come on now. I spent a lot of money on this, you don’t wanna ruin it for everyone, do you?”

Letting his words sink in, logic and guilt alike, you come to terms with the situation and realise that you really don’t want to ruin it for everyone, or yourself. You shake your head with a crooked smile.

“That’s my girl. No more pouting”, Baekhyun says, with a light poke on your nose. 

  Getting into bed you look through your phone one last time; check the call log and text messages, in case you’ve somehow clicked Beanie away, but there’s nothing there. Now, with not so little alcohol in your system you don’t worry about her being okay, but about your friendship. Had you done something wrong? Or rather, did she think you had; had she misunderstood something maybe? You try to put it out of your mind, but it sits like a little pebble in your gut, only given a break by Baekhyun.

“Thank god they’re gone..!”, he exclaims, dragging you on top of him. 

“You talked the most, drank the most-”

“I was trying to scare them away”, he laughs between kisses. “Every fucking time you moved on the couch I imagined it was me under there… Now be a good girl and ride me, sweetie.”

                                        ¤¤ 

As you hadn’t been able to get a hold of Beanie the following couple of days you had made up your mind to go to her and Minnie’s home - one of these days. Deciding to do something and having the courage to do it can be two very different things, and it fell on divine intervention to push you forward.

Waiting for Baekhyun to pick you up from the mall you spot Minnie walking across the parking lot.

“Min..!”, you shout, zig-zagging your way through the parked cars.

He smiles when he spots you, but you detect a degree of discomfort in it.

“Oh, hi. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been to lunch with my mom, just waiting for Baekhyun to pick me up.”

“Lunch date with mom, that’s nice. I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?”, he asks, as he starts for his car again.

“I’m good. You?”

“I’m good, just came back from out of town-”

“Yeah”, you interrupt. “That’s actually what I wanted to ask you about… Is Beanie alright? She didn’t come to my party and I can’t get a hold of her.”

“Yeah, she’s fine. You know how it is, busy with the baby and all… She probably just forgot.”

 Even with his face turned away as he’s putting his bags in the trunk you can tell he’s not being honest. You’re not sure if you want to know why though. You study his face as he rounds the car to the driver’s door - he’s clearly uncomfortable, trying to force a normal demeanour, so you press him on it.

“But I don’t think she’d forget about it. Or not get in touch on her own - we talk almost every day, Min.”

“Shit...”, he says, fidgeting with the keys. “I asked her not to go, okay. To keep a little distance for a while.”

“From me? Why? I thought we were-”

“No, it’s…”

They way he’s frowning and struggling with his words you know why.

“Baekhyun asked me to”, he finishes, holding his hands up in defeat.

“What, no. You must’ve misunderstood, Min”, you say, not wanting to let on what you’re really thinking. “Why would he?”

“He didn’t say, he just… Aeh, you know what? Maybe I did misunderstand him. Talk to him when you see him, it’s probably nothing”, he says, getting into the car.

“Yeah, I’ll tell him you ruined my party over nothing”, you chuckle. “Tell Bean to answer next time, alright?”

“Will do. See you around?”

“See ya”, you say, waving him off.

  You spend the few minutes you have left to wait wondering - fearing - why Baekhyun would ask such a thing of Minnie. Actually, you’re not wondering at all - you know why. But if that’s the case what does it mean? Why wouldn’t he sit down with you and have a conversation about it like an adult? Why would he essentially order Min to keep her away? He must know what it looks like… And what would Beanie think it looks like? What the hell are you gonna tell her when you see her again? “If you see her, you mean? I will see her.” You promise yourself you won’t let Baekhyun get away with this, that you’re gonna have a proper talk about it. But your resolve gets a nick as soon as you get in the car, for a moment pretending that it might just be a misunderstanding…

“How’s your mom?”

“You know, same old, same old.”

“Nothing new on the westfront..?”, he smiles at you and takes your hand.

“Not much. But I saw Min. Bumped into him, I mean. Just now.”

You can’t tell if you sound casual. When Baekhyun tightens his grip on your hand you definitely feel less than casual.

“Hm. Beanie?”

“No, it was just him. He-”

“So what’d he say?”, he asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

This is your in, but you’re not as brave as you were five minutes ago. If you bring it up you can’t unsay it and everything that follows will be your doing; do you want to spend a wonderful evening with your man or do you want to walk around on glass shards?

“Beanie thinks you don’t like her…”

He spares you a quick glance with a furrowed brow.

“He said that?”

“Not exactly. He said, eh, I don’t wanna be a tattle tale...”

“What are you, ten years old?”, he scoffs. “We can talk about it when we get home”, he continues and lets go of your hand. 

 It’s sickening, the darkness that emanates from him. Even shifting in your seat to look out the window you feel like a bother to him. You don’t want to “talk about it”, you want to shout at him for trying to decide who your friends are, and for cutting you off. But you also wanna sweep it under the rug, beg his forgiveness with your saddest eyes and let him know he’s more important than anyone else.

                                            ¤¤

  From the garage to the elevator to the hallway, every step feels like you're walking closer to springing a bear trap you set for yourself.

“You’re hovering...”, Baekhyun notes when you stand by the kitchen island, watching him scroll through his phone.

“Well, you said...we were gonna talk…”

“What’s there to talk about?”

You look at him, dumbfounded, until he puts away his phone and raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Minnie. Did you say anything to him about Beanie? I’m hoping it’s a misun-”

“That he should keep her away? Yeah.”

“Why would you do that? She’s my friend!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me.”

“Baekhyun…”

You try to find the right words as your eyes start burning, but end up throwing your hands up in defeat.

“She’s my friend…”

“Sweetie”, he says, coming up to you, looking down at you. “I’ve known her longer than you, I think I know what’s best.”

“I can take care of myself. Make my own decisions.”

“Sure you can. But I’m the one who moved you from a tiny apartment to a skyrise flat, no?”, he chuckles.

You know he sometimes has a tendency to poke fun at you, but this was different. Going from letting you know it doesn’t matter what your paycheck says to making sure you know it does - the audacity doesn’t make you angry, it hurts you.

“Why do you have to put me down? Like in the car, when you called me ten..”

“What am I supposed to do with you when you act like this then?” Pausing, seemingly drawing pleasure from your expression he continues in a softer tone, putting his arms around you “I was only kidding, you’re too sensitive, sweetie.”

“I guess I am...”, you whisper, knowing you can’t make him listen anyway. “I’m gonna take Ga’ out.”

   Giving Baekhyun the silent treatment doesn’t work. He sees through it, thinks it’s childish and wants no part of it. Besides, he’s better at it than you are; making some calls, working in his home office, reading the paper while seemingly not noticing your silent rebellion. After a while the TV and Gawa can’t keep your fearful thoughts away, the ones where he decides you’re no fun anymore. The clock is creeping closer to dinner time and that’ll be make or break as you see it - making up and eating together or eating alone and making a bad situation worse. You don’t want to give up even more of your pride, but his silence won’t stop any other way. “And besides, a relationship is about diplomacy. Sometimes you have to let the other person win.. It’s normal.”

 You walk past his study and the kitchen to find him lying in bed with his phone. Quiet as a mouse you sit down on your end, suddenly scared it won’t work, that he’ll brush away your attempt at reconciliation like so many bread crumbs from the mattress. “Do I beg?” A part of you is disgusted with yourself because you know he’s waiting for you to crawl back. He doesn’t look at you when you turn around to face him, but oh, he’s waiting alright. Shuffling up next to him you cautiously lower yourself down, hoping he’ll let you in. When he moves his arm for you to lay down, putting it around you when you have, the release you feel is immeasurable. Winning or losing isn’t so important. Baekhyun is. He runs his hand over your hair, eyes still fixed on the phone, you stretch your arm out, tucking your fingers beneath his shirt to feel his warm torso. That other stuff may be important, but not right now. 

                                            ¤¤

“Dear Diary in my head… Why didn’t I say anything? I’m not afraid of him, so why was I afraid to? I was lazy ‘cus I didn’t wanna go on with the fight. But I’m not a fucking school girl wanting a boy’s approval, so I should’ve insisted. Now it sounds pathetic, “I should’ve insisted I be allowed to see Beanie”, like he’s my dad - shit, that’s what Beanie said… I AM allowed to see her, goddamn it, and I will, I don’t care. He’s the one being unreasonable - as if I love every single one of his friends..! If that article is what he's mad about it doesn't even make sense, ‘cus he’s not like that. But what if he is...like that rumour she was talking about… Jesus CHRIST, I’d know if he was! Now I’m just winding myself up ‘cus I’m irritated, stop it. I know how he is; hot headed in the moment, but forgets about it quickly. I mean what, he’s gonna hate on his colleagues wife forever? Ah-ah, he’ll get over it. And I need to stop being such a pushover when we argue, that’s for damn sure…”

                                           ¤¤ 

“How many times have you seen her?”, Baekhyun asks coldly, holding up your phone.

You hadn’t, as you first thought, forgot to take it with you to the bedroom last night - he’d taken it before you woke up. There’s no room for you to come up with a lie, white or other. Actually, this time there’s not even room for your dread as you immediately get pissed off at him for taking it.

“I didn’t opt out of having a password for you to go through my phone”, you say sternly, going to retrieve it from him. When he moves you fix your eyes on him “Baekhyun..!”

“How many times?”

“A few times. She’s my friend, and I missed her. I know y-”

“A few times?”

There’s a glint in his eye that makes you unsettled so you make like you’re starting breakfast, with him following you.

“What do you talk about?”

“Nothing. This and that…”

“For example..?”

“I don’t keep a log, do I?”, you mumble sarcastically, more to yourself than him. 

Before you have time to react he's grabbed your arm, making your head bounce against the wall.

"What did you just say?", he spits in your face, but seeing how you cower, eyes locked on his hand hanging in the air, he remembers himself. "So fucking dumb", he hisses, releasing his grip on you with a shove to the side.

Toppling over, trying to compose yourself you see him snatching his blazer from his seat before leaving. 

  In an instant Baekhyun has made you so small you feel that the chairs, table and island are all towering up around you where you sit on the floor. Your eyes are fixed on the door, terrified you’re going to see the lock turn open. You won’t hear it through the piercing sound in your ears. “He was gonna hit me…” Understanding he’s not coming back you stand up, bracing yourself against the wall. What now? You look around aimlessly, not even realising you’re clutching your arm, until you see your phone on the counter. Like a bolt the obvious answer hits you: “You can’t stay.”  Hurrying to the closet you grab one of Baekhyun’s overnight bags - he won’t miss it - and open the drawers, grabbing a handful of everything and stuffing them in it; tearing clothes off their racks, making the hangers fall to the floor with a clank and sweep toiletries in  with one movement. Lacing up your shoes your heart threatens to break your chest in half. You repeatedly call Gawa, then remember your mom’s had him a few nights.

“Where’s my...” You look around for your jacket in a fever, unable to focus. 

“Did he take my jacket? My keys...no...”, you think even though you’re certain you never saw him with it.

“Ah!”

 Running to your room you breathe a sigh of relief when you see it hanging on a chair; putting it on you check your pockets to see everything’s there and *qo...*. You freeze. Was that the bolt sliding? Not hearing any other sounds you slide your phone open, ready to call whomever, leaving sweat marks over the screen, and inch your way out to the dining room. 

“Baekhyun..?”

 Your bag is right there. If he’s somehow managed to come in without you hearing it, he’s seen it, and with the open floor plan the only doors in the apartment are on the bathroom, office and walk-in closet - all situated round the entrance. You can’t lock yourself in. Your gut churns as you expect him to round the corner with his head to the side - the way it always is when he disapproves of something. Feeling like he’s toying with you, you give way to despondency, wiping your tears before you keep walking and turn the corner. But he’s not there. The door is locked. You sink down on wobbly legs, catching your breath. Grabbing your bag you hear that sound again, and realise it was just a glass bottle in the bag settling, knocking against another one. 

“Fuck! Jesus Christ…”

 Sitting down you start thinking about where to go. In the back of your head you’d assumed your mom’s place, but now you see there are only two ways that could go: you don’t tell her why, so she’ll invite Baekhyun in when he comes looking or you do tell her and she’ll insist you report him to the police. But what’s there to report? “He DIDN’T hit me. He grabbed your arm! Yeah, he grabbed my arm in a fight when he found out I’d been lying to him… They won’t do anything…”

“Why did I lie to him..! None of this would've happened if I’d been honest, just told him the first time I saw her. And if I hadn’t acted like that when he asked… Of course he'd be angry, anyone would. Being angry is one thing, punching someone is different. But he didn't… I mean, haven't I been so annoyed I've wanted to hit him? It's not the same thing! Why not? Because he happens to be stronger than me? It's still violence...You KNOW why it isn't… If he HAD, sure, I'd never let him near me again, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t… He wouldn’t.”

 Going back and forth with yourself in your head was just a formality and a way to convince yourself you're the type of person that 1: won't tolerate being treated like shit, and 2: would give someone a second chance. “Everyone deserves a second chance. At least a chance to explain themselves.” 

Putting your things back you make sure they are exactly as they had been, while ignoring the voice that asks why you’re worried he might be able to tell a difference. Now there’s nothing left to do but somehow pass the excruciatingly long hours until he gets off work...

                                        ¤¤

 Not hearing from Baekhyun all day had you go from thinking he’d been wrong to fearing he’d still think you were.

If you can forgive him then surely he can forgive you, right? If he’s still angry, you’ll make an effort; if he doesn't say anything about it, neither will you. You’ll go on as usual, have a visit with your mom, be fine. 

Standing in front of the mirror in your closet, trying to figure out what top to wear has a different feeling to it today; you're trying to cover up your arm. There isn't any bruising on it as far as you can tell, but you never know… When the lock turns your pulse goes up. You’ve been anxiety ridden all day, as well as longing for him to come home, so you can really put this thing past you and go back to normal. 

He peeks in through the door with a gentle smile and presents a bouquet - yellow peonies.

"I think roses are the official flower of apology, but I know how you love these."

“He’s not mad, thank God, he’s not mad…” 

"I don't know what came over me”, he starts, coming up to you. “It must be all the stress at work, with the buy-out and I… I would never hurt you! When I saw that look in your eyes I couldn’t believe what I was doing-”

“Why didn’t you call me all day?”, you ask, teary-eyed with relief.

“I wanted to, sweetie, but I...every time I picked up the phone I saw that look and I didn’t know what to say… I’ll never hurt you again, I swear.”

“You real...really scared me”, you manage to say through choppy breaths.

“I know. I’ll do whatever you want, give you anything you want”, he says, hugging you tightly “...just forgive me.”

You don’t take pleasure in seeing him distraught, but note that suddenly the roles are reversed - he’s the one pleading, and you have the power to lift him up.

“You have to promise me, Baekhyun.”

“I promise, sweetie. I promise..!”

He tips your head up by the chin:

“You believe me, right?"

With such sincerity in his eyes and tremble in his voice, how could you not?

“Good”, he says when you nod, giving you your long awaited kiss. “I’m so sorry…”

“Let’s...”, you exhale deeply, turning to the mirror again.“Let’s not talk about it anymore, okay?”

“Sure. What are you up to?”

“I'm just deciding what to wear. We have to be at my mum's in forty-five minutes, so if you're gonna shower before we go…”

Coming up to stand behind you in the mirror, the way he puts his hands on your shoulders makes you wince, if ever so slightly. But he doesn't notice. 

"Do you really think it's a good idea for us to go over there today? I think we could really need this time for ourselves. Don't you agree?"

"But I've already told her we're coming over…"

"I know, but with everything that's been going on… Tell you what...You go put these in water and I'll give her a call, tell her I've got a migraine."

"I have to get Gawa, she's had him four days already", you say, happy to have found a good reason for going over.

"She won't mind will she?", he asks, spinning you around to look you in the eyes. "Aren't I as important as him? I've really missed you today, sweetie."

You don't want to upset him again, and you've really missed him too. So you give in. 

Curled up on the sofa with your head on Baekhyun's chest, his fingers are playing with your hair.

"Sweetie? Have you thought about maybe letting your mum have Gawa?"

"Have him? Past tomorrow?"

"Keep him. For good, I mean."

"What? No, why?"

"Don't get upset", he says soothing you. "I don't mean he can't come over from time to time."

A sickening feeling creeps into your heart, but not wanting to risk another fight so soon you hold your tongue. Nonchalantly flipping through the channels on the TV he adds:

"We don't have to decide anything now. It's just...something to think about."

                                            ¤¤ 

  Drying your hands after finishing up the dishes at your mom's you hear Baekhyun from the living room:

"... to have him full time."

Your stomach's in knots as you join them. Baekhyun smiles and grabs your hand. 

"I was just telling your mom how we think she should keep Gawa - if you want to, of course", he adds thoughtfully, looking at your mom. 

"But he's your everything, honey", your mom, correctly, points out. "Why would you ev-"

She cuts herself off with eyes growing wide.

"Are you pregnant..!? Oh, oh..!", she blurts out before you can stop her.

"No!"

Baekhyun bursts out laughing, pulling you to sit on his lap.

"Not yet, mother. But who knows, might not be too long before you hear the tapping of little feet around here…", he jokes.

At least you hope he is. Not feeling entirely comfortable with the turn the conversation has taken, you get up, calling Gawa to you. 

"Well, I guess we should be going, mom. Come on, Baekhyun, Ga'."

There's a flicker in Baekhyun's eyes, but you know he won't make a scene in front of your mom.

"We'll give you some time to think about it", he says, hugging her goodbye. 

You can feel the cold emanating from him like dry ice in the elevator. 

"I'll drop you off at home before I head into the office", he says, clearing his throat. 

"It's Saturday, you're off."

"I might as well get some work done if you don't want to be with me. If you choose that animal over me."

                                         ¤¤

  Forty-eight hours ago you had been looking forward to the weekend; visiting your mom with your handsome, successful boyfriend and winding down with the love of your life - Gawa. But nothing had gone the way you had imagined. Even after the incident it was as if Baekhyun hadn't let go of your arm, keeping you under his eye and forcing you to prove your loyalty to him. But then again, you had just been through something big, however short it was. It was only natural he'd want a little more attention from you than normal, right? He probably didn't mean for you to give Gawa up for good, it was just bad wording. He loved seeing you happy, why else would he buy you flowers and jewellery, insist that you cut back your hours at work to be home more, call you every other hour to say hi? 

  Thinking about it in those terms made it simple - if not easy - for you to do what he wanted. Because he was what you wanted, wasn't he? So, not having told him you were returning Gawa to your mom the same day you were waiting for him to come back home. What had started as excitement about pleasing him had, as the hours passed, turned into a tremendously guilty conscience and now, lying in bed as he approaches, you can't even pretend to be happy.

"Why is it so dark in here?", he asks, throwing his blazer on the bed. "Where's Ga'? Gawa..!", he calls.

"He's not here", you answer him, your back still turned against him. "He's with mom…"

"Oh, sweetie", he sighs, laying down behind you, giving you a kiss on the neck. "I didn't mean for you to take him back today. Turn around, let me see that pretty face. That's better", he says, brushing the hair out of your eyes.

"My red eyes and runny nose is better?", you pout, partly fishing for a compliment. 

"Mm-hm. Of course I don't like to see you sad, but I really appreciate what you've done. It shows that you respect me. That you really care about me."

Little by little his words push away your melancholy. The way he's looking at you now, with his gentle brown eyes and sweet smile, prickles your skin. This is the reaction you had wanted from him.

"And besides…", he continues, slipping his hand under your t-shirt "I've been thinking about what your mother said… About a baby."

"No. Baekhyun, that's insane. That’s…"

"Why? Too soon? Who decides that? Look...", he says, nudging your t-shirt up to show your stomach "...can't you imagine a little Baekhyun growing in here? Or my daughter? Walking in the park with the stroller, showing the baby to everyone at work… I’d show you off to everyone the minute I found out."

“Aeh..”, you swat your hand as he gets up, but when he’s out of the room you scrunch your face with delight at the thought of it. Somehow you can see it. But in your stomach isn't just the butterflies of an imagined little life - it’s the whispered knowledge that you've left the right love behind.

#baekhyun #baekhyun angst #baekhyun scenario

[dajaregambler]

AAside - Gyroaxia Band story - Chapter 4 (full)

Translation of Gyroaxia’s band story from the game ‘Argonavis from Bang Dream! AAside’.

This post contains all parts belonging to Chapter 4.

(Recommendation to read this along the ingame band story, since it’s all fully voiced!)

Part one - “Joint declaration”

-----At GYROAXIA’s sharehouse

Reon: Kenta-san, have you seen this?

Kenta: What?

Reon: How members of Fantôme Iris are dissing us, and that from there fans started to fight each other…

Miyuki: I saw it too. Like, how Fantôme’s comments started it all, although I’m suspicious if they actually did say that

Reon: I was thinking so too but….

Reon: On the contrary, our fans went out to get revenge after Fantôme’s live had ended…

Kenta: I’m aware of it. I had shrugged it off as baseless rumors that would disappear on their own soon.

Kenta: And then it turned out to be a bigger commotion than I had expected it to.

Miyuki: What’re we gonna do? Are we gonna leave it be or

Kenta: The leader of Fantôme shall be coming here tonight. I intend to discuss what we should do about it.

Miyuki: Haha, always first on the move ain’tcha now

Reon: It’d be good if it didn’t influence the voting for the starting live, but…. today they’ll be announcing the results, right

Kenta: What now, are you not confident?

Reon: That’s not….

Miyuki: Well, I’m not worried about our ranking, it just doesn’t feel too good thinking how these strange rumors still out there

Kenta: I’ll be taking care of it. Leave it up to me

Miyuki: Yeah, yeah. Please do so, Kenta-sensei

-

----A few hours later

Felix: ---Then, I shall be taking care of the draft for the statement. Could you verify it for me once I had sent it after returning home as soon as possible?

Kenta: I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll respond as soon as possible.

Felix: I could say the same. Ah… that reminds me, I had forgotten to mention something

Kenta: What may it be?

Felix: Congratulations on reaching first place at the starting live. It’s still an amazing accomplishment, even without the impact of the rumors.

Kenta: Thank you very much. However, I believe that you are not intending to leave things as they are now, right?

Felix: Why of course. We may have ended up last now, but one could say it was a mere warm up for next time.

Felix: It ought to not take long before we get tired of staring down on your backs.

Kenta: …..GYROAXIA will not lose.

Felix: I see… fufu. Now then, I suppose it’s time to---

(Door opening)

Nayuta: Any coffee

Nyankotarou: Nya~

Felix: Good evening, Nayuta. Pardon my intrustion. And hello to you too, you must be Nyankotarou

Nayuta: …..A guest, eh

Kenta: You seem to be well informed, to the point of knowing his cat’s name. 

Felix: Only because I have checked the official blog of your band. A fan ought to know this much, or am I wrong?

Kenta: Haha

Felix: Now, I shall be taking my leave. I would love to sit down and have a nice chat with you when possible, Nayuta

Nayuta: ………

Felix: À bientôt. And to you too, Nyankotarou

Nyankotarou: Nya~

-

Nayuta: …..What did you talk about

Kenta: I had consulted him about what we should do about these baseless rumors. Nothing that should concern you.

Nayuta: ‘Kay

Kenta: Ah, right there is coffee. I’ll go make some right now

Kenta: (Even though I’m doing everything I can to not distract Nayuta with any unnecessary trouble, it has to blow over as soon as it can.)

Kenta: (If... this would put an end to it, though...)

Part two - “Joint interview”

-----At an office

Miyuki: Soft and fluffy chairs, some way too delicious coffee…. at last, the kind of treatment we deserve

Nayuta: ….Oi, Sakaigawa

Miyuki: Mh? What’s up, Nayuta?

Nayuta: It’s time. Let’s leave

Miyuki: Eh? I mean sure it’s been a while since it was supposed to start but… wouldn’t it be good to wait for a bit at least!

Nayuta: Tch….

Miyuki: The management of the Fes had set this interview up for us too. Hold it out just for a bit, okay!

Miyuki: Handling advertising is also an important part for the Fes, didn’t Kenta say so too?

Nayuta: Where is he

Miyuki: He said he suddenly had a meeting to attend and is at the office now

Nayuta: ………

Miyuki: I’ll contact the person in charge too, c’mon sit down!

Interviewer: Excuse me. My sincerest apologies for being late!

Shu: So sorry for bein’ late. Was busy with school an’ all that 

Reiji: Forgive us for making you wait.

Miyuki: Eh? You guys are Epsi’s….

Nayuta: ….What’s the meaning of this

Miyuki: Wasn’t it supposed to be Nayuta’s interview today or...

Interview: Huh? Have we not informed you about it? That it’s a joint interview with the frontmen of the participating bands...

Shu: Aah, that’s ‘cuz I asked to not let ‘em know. Wanted to get a good scare outta ‘em!

Nayuta: ….We gotta leave

Miyuki: Heey hey now! This kinda interview isn’t too bad, is it! And it’s not like you speak a lot on your own to begin with!

Reiji: My deepest apologies for spoiling the mood. Ujigawa has a tendency to enjoy pulling suck pranks...

Shu: Aw c’mon, stop talkin’ as if I’m some lil’ kid

Interviewer: We are very sorry for the lack of communication on our part! I promise it will not take too long, so please….!

Nayuta: ………

-

Interviewer: ----Now then, could you tell us what you think of each other’s bands?

Nayuta: Got nothing

Shu: Eeeh, that’s makin’ me sad. I’mma big fan of Gyro! Nayuta-san’s vocals are a given, but the rest of the band---

Miyuki: Wonder if it’s okay for Nayuta to act like that….

Reiji: Isn’t it more exciting to have an interview with a feeling of tension in the air

Reiji: It’s quite interesting, like Asahi-san himself

Miyuki: Haha… A relief to hear that then

Reiji: ….Speaking of which, that secret live from the other day was exciting too wasn’t it

Reiji: Somehow to the point of Asahi-san collapsing from singing too much….

Miyuki: Hm, aah… that. Yeah, Nayuta just went a bit overboard with giving his all

Reiji: Is his physical condition stable?

Miyuki: All good, good! Not a big deal at all!

Reiji: Then that is fine…. The vocalist collapsing must be undeniably troublesome for the members too.

Miyuki: Well… honestly, what came after that was more troubling than him collapsing

Reiji: Had something happened?

Miyuki: Nah well, it was more silly if anything you know, like a whole coup d’état was being staged! 

Reiji: Coup d'état…. Haha, that does indeed sound quite funny.

Reiji: If you don’t mind, could you tell me more about it?

Part three - “Stand and talk”

Miyuki: ---And with that, the whole coup fell apart. And one way or the other we all got back together again.

Miyuki: See? Told you it was silly, right?

Reiji: ….It’s necessary for the surprise attack to land its mark, if one wants a coup to succeed.

Reiji: For that moment, you have to bow down to those in power and patiently await your turn to strike...

Miyuki: Uum… What’s that about?

Reiji: ….History that I had learned in class about.

Reiji: Either way, thank you very much for talking with me.

Reiji: We’re respectively having our own fair share of issues due the nature of our frontmen, however we shall be doing our best for the Fes going on forward.

Miyuki: Seriously mature for your age, aren’t you….

Nayuta: Let’s leave, Sakaigawa

Miyuki: Sorry, sorry. Got caught up in talking. So, how did that interview go? 

Nayuki: Dunno. You’ll see tomorrow when we get back

Shu: Nayuta-san, good work. Was plenty of fun to talk with you!

Reiji: Thank you for your time too, Sakaigawa-san. I wish you good luck at the live tommorrow.

Miyuki: Ah, hold on Nayuta! Sorry for this, we’ll sit down to talk again some other time

Reiji: ….How did it go with him?

Shu: Wasn’t fun at all. That mister wouldn’ react at all despite pushin’ his buttons

Shu: Anyway, you seem to have heard somethin’ interesting?

Reiji: Yes. Exactly the kind of thing you enjoy.

Reiji: I’ll go collect evidence from the livehouse and hospital at once. I’ll be able to have it done in a few hours.

-

-----At GYROAXIA’s sharehouse

Ryo: Ah, Miyuki-kun and Nayuta, welcome baaack

Kenta: Welcome back, good work today

Miyuki: Huh, you got back too?

Kenta: Yes, it was a simple meeting. More importantly, how did the interview go?

Miyuki: It was… the whole thing turned out different than expected. Nayuta had to do a joint interview with Epsi’s Ujigawa-kun

Kenta: With Ujigawa Shu.... Was there anything strange that happened? 

Miyuki: Nah? It went pretty smoothly, right Nayuta?

Nayuta: Don’t remember. Don’t care

Kenta: Then, that’s fine….

(Door opening)

Reon: Ah, Kenta-san! Did you check online!?

Kenta: What is it, have fans started arguing again?

Miyuki: We commented on it, shouldn’t it have calmed down?

Reon: Not that! Look, it’s about this!

Miyuki: Uuum… “GYROAXIA’s vocalist, Nayuta Asahi has been spotted at the hospital! Troubles arise regarding the continuation of the band”---- 

Ryo: “Which leads to tension between the band members! Are they on the verge of breaking up with LR Fes right around the corner!?”

Miyuki: ...What, what the hell!? Where did all of this come from?

Kenta: I had assumed the possibility about hospital-related rumors spreading but…. not that it would reach about the state of the band itself.

Reon: It’s strange right! And way too detailed! To the point of a coup being mentioned!

Nayuta: ….What’s the meaning of this?

Kenta: I can only think it was one of us that had leaked it. But, how…. doesn’t anyone here remember this?

Miyuki: Think about it, going out of your way to talk about th--

Reiji: If you don’t mind, could you tell me more about it?

Miyuki: ….Eh? Don’t tell me….him!?

Kenta: Is there something you know, Miyuki

Miyuki: ……..Shit! Sure did it this time!!

Part four - “Reiji’s strategy”

Miyuki: While… Nayuta was doing the interview, I had talked to Epsi’s drummer…

Kenta: The drummer…. Karasuma Reiji

Miyuki: But, we didn’t talk too long ago, and I didn’t say anything about Nayuta’s asthma either!?

Kenta: There was more than enough time to spread rumors online about it.

Reon: It’s about an illness, and with how he collapsed at a live, you can make up as much as you want about it….

Kenta: ….There were a lot of awful rumors about Epsi when they were in Kyoto. How they’ll do anything to crush whoever piques their interest, and the like

Kenta: Which makes me suspect that they’re the ones behind our trouble with Fantôme.

Ryo: Why…. why would they do such things?

Kenta: To cut down the amount of rivals for the Fes…. I wouldn’t know for any other reason why.

Reon: Still, to go like that about it… it’s way too foul!

Kenta: They’re still middle and highschool students, but have plenty of funds and human connections to make use of.

Kenta: An example of what happens when a child who doesn’t know any better becomes drunk on power, I suppose

Nayuta: ……….

Miyuki: Goddamnit….!!

Reon: What do we do? Make another statement?

Kenta: Compared to last time, these rumors aren’t completely baseless. Any wrong moves will increase our amount of problems….

Miyuki: I’m sorry, everyone…. All because I just can’t keep my mouth shut….

Kenta: Apologies are for later. We need to focus on what to do about this right now...

Nayuta: Ain’t gonna do a thing

Miyuki: ...Eh?

Nayuta: We’re gonna rehearse. Get ready

Reon: Is it really fine to just leave it at that!?

Nayuta: Don’t give enough of a fuck to play around with some shitty brat

Kenta: Still… will the fans agree to it?

Nayuta: As if I know

Reon: “As if” you say….

Ryo: Then… wouldn’t it be better to admit to everything?

Miyuki: …..Eeeeh!?

Ryo: Let’s admit it at the beginning of the live. About Nayuta’s illness, and our coup d’état too

Kenta: …..Isn’t that asking to invite even more chaos?

Ryo: It’ll be all good!

Reon: How even

Ryo: ‘Cuz we’ll be doing a live right after it?

Ryo: Once our live starts, everyone’s worries will fly right out of the window and they’ll become happy!

Miyuki: What’s with that…

Kenta: ….I see

Reon: You’re agreeing with him!?

Kenta: Because… it might be a chance to demonstrate our power. Rumors and facts, GYROAXIA’s music will bring it all to the ground

Kenta: If it goes smoothly, we’d be back on track for the Fes...

Nayuta: ……..

Miyuki: Nayuta, I’m sorry…. It’s my fault that your fans came to know about your illness…..

Miyuki: But, it’s as Ryo and Kenta said… If it’s with you…. with our performance, everything will be blown away

Nayuta: Cut it out with the whining….

Reon: You’re so….!

Nayuta: I’m only gonna sing

Part five - “What about it?”

----At the livehouse

Gyro fan A: Hey, did you see it? Those rumors online. Like, “Gyro in a crisis of disbanding” and all… 

Gyro fan B: Isn’t that fake? And, Nayuta’s illness….

Gyro fan A: Yeah but… there’s also how Nayuta collapsed during the last song at this secret live the other day, right?

Gyro fan B: Yeah… and it does seem that the members often fight too….

Nayuta: …...Listen

Gyro fan A: Eh…. He’s gonna talk? Isn’t this unusual!?

Nayuta: Everything online, those shitty rumors--- All of it is true

Nayuta: I have a respiratory disease. There’s guys that started going on about quitting

Nayuta: But… what about it?

Nayuta: Even if I fall, I’ll sing. Even on my own, I’ll sing.

Nayuta: As long as I live

Nayuta: …...GYROAXIA

-

Reon: (All you had to say or what… still… it really fired up everyone!)

Miyuki: (Amazing, eh… that it wasn’t “us” either.)

Ryo: (Yeah, this feels nice… everyone looks happy)

Kenta: (Go, Nayuta…. crush them….!)

-

Gyro fan A: GYROOO!!!

Gyro fan B: NAYUTAAA!!

Gyro fan A: Hey, is that illness part true!? He’s still going at full power during the encore!!

Gyro fan B: The instrumental part was amazing too! No way that they’re breaking up!

Ryo: Aah, how nice… this kind of atmosphere… it’s very happy….

Reon: Haah..haah.. alright! The best performance…. yes… yes!!

Miyuki: Fuuh... for real, he’s some kinda monster... the fact that he pulled off a live beyond flawless

Kenta: You did it, Nayuta…. Alright, time to wrap it up

Nayuta: …….

Kenta: Nayuta….?

Nayuta: Oi… dunno if you’re here… some damned guy that has the nerve to pull some shit---

Nayuta: Whatever you wanna do, don’t drag me in it

Nayuta: That shit won’t crush my music

Nayuta: Still, you’re an eyesore. Don’t get in my way a second time. And if you wanna keep going...

Nayuta: I’ll destroy you… at the Fes battle

Miyuki: Haha… As if he’s some pro-wrestler

Reon: He.. was considerably angry

Kenta: Really? Isn’t that---

Ryo: Yeah, it’s the Nayuta that we know

-

Gyro fan A: That was so awesome! But… what Nayuta said at the end there...

Gyro fan B: “I’ll destroy you at the Fes”.... does this mean that a participating band spread rumors?

Gyro fan A: Seriously… that’s straight up awful

Reiji: ………

Reiji: (Failure, huh… No, they turned the tables around….)

Reiji: (There’s many other bands that aren’t this straight-forward… Well, whether it succeeds or not, either is fine.)

Reiji: (As long as Shu has been entertained)

#aaside #gyroaxia #nayuta asahi #kenta satozuka #Miyuki Sakaigawa #Ryo Akebono #Reon Misono

[thisisthepartwhereyou]

BEASTARS MINI-STORY #5: “Everybody Play the Game pt. 1” by JCL

---

We see Jack sitting alone by his writing desk in dorm room 701. He's got several books, documents and a notebook positioned ahead of him, suggesting that he is about to do some homework, but he is currently busy talking on his cellphone. We hear a voice coming from the other end.

???: "So you are sure that you can all come that day?"

Jack has his nose down a monthly planner-book, where we see that he has encircled a date with red ink: May 23rd. Within the circle he has also written "Game night at Yanni's with Legosi and the guys."

JACK: "Don't worry about it. I've double-checked with the others. There shouldn't be any problem."

The labrador retriever suddenly gets a puzzled look though as he adjust his reading glasses.

JACK: "But why is it so important that everyone is there? We've had game nights before with one or two missing. As long as it's four of us we can play most things." ---

We go over to the other side of the line and see that the one he is talking to is Legosi. He is standing out in the corridor of the first in the hidden condo, using the shared phone. He scratches his cheek.

LEGOSI: "Well, it's like this..." ---

We skip ahead for a bit. Jack is now sitting in the school cafeteria together with his roommates: Durham the coyote, Miguno the spotted hyena, Collot the old English sheepdog and Voss the fennec fox. They are eating their lunches, which today appears to be composed of rice, miso soup, tamagoyaki and a broccoli salad.  

JACK: "He's bringing Haru to game night. He wants us all to meet her."

The rest of the guys stare at him.

MIGUNO: "His girlfriend? The bunny?"

Durham looks a little skeptical. Next to him we see Collot stuffing his face with a big helping of the tamagoyaki.

DURHAM: "Why? Does he want to rub it in our noses that he has a girlfriend and we don't? I mean we already have Collot and his harem for that."

Hearing this, Collot turns to him and protests with his mouth full, with yellow crumbs flying out and staining Durham's sleeve as he does.

COLLOT: "I don't have a harem!"

Durham groans in annoyance, picks up a napkin and wipes his arm.

DURHAM: "Then what was all that chocolate you had in your locker last Valentines day about? Looking for a golden ticket or something?"

Jack sighs at their shenanigans, like a patient parent dealing with a group of dysfunctional siblings.

JACK: "I doubt that's the reason. He probably just figured it was time he introduced her to his friends."

Durham shrugs at this and takes a sip from his milk carton.

DURHAM: "Sounds like the adult thing to do."

Miguno sticks his fork into his salad, stabbing through a piece of broccoli before taking it up to his mouth.

MIGUNO: "Just imagine it, our little Legosi, all grown up."

Durham leans forward, resting his chin in his hand while adopting a pensive expression.

DURHAM: "Grown up Legosi."

Collot crosses his arms and looks up into the air.

COLLOT: "Grown up Legosi with a girlfriend..."

Voss (who unlike his friends is so small that he has to sit on the table while eating instead of on a seat next to it) is flicking his right ear.

VOSS: "... Who is a bunny."

JACK: "..."

It is quiet for a few seconds, with it seeming like the boys from room 701 is internally tasting the situation. It is then that Durham interrupts this quiet moment with a question that appears to be on everybody's mind.

DURHAM: "Am I the only one who wonders how the hell that works?"

Collot picks up his bowl of miso with his hand.

COLLOT: "No, I've actually been pondering about that too. I mean I flirt with the herbivore girls as much as I flirt with any of the carnivore girls, but that's mostly to be courteous."

He then proceeds to loudly slurp up its content (table manners is not his strong side). He then puts the bowl down again, licking the soup residue off his lips with his tongue.

COLLOT: "I don't think I could date one though... No matter how taboo-liciously hot they can be...!"

Miguno gives Collot a skeptical look and shakes his head at him (though whether it is because he agrees with this sentiment or just finds the word 'taboo-licious' disturbing is unclear).

MIGUNO: "I couldn't believe it the first time I heard it."

JACK: "Well they've been together for almost two years, so there has to be something..." (Though I honestly don't get it either)

DURHAM: "What I don't get is the attraction, on both sides."

Durham stretches his arms out in an expanding motion.

DURHAM: "I mean Legosi is HUGE, even by wolf standards."

He pulls his arms back, then holds his right hand raised about 20 centimeters over the table.  

DURHAM: "And bunnies in general are tiny! Don't you think it's a little bizarre for someone that big to be together with someone so minuscule?"

It is then that Durham remembers the presence of Voss, the undoubtedly smallest member among them, who is shooting him a glare from across the table.

DURHAM: "No offense."

The fennec gives him the finger.

VOSS: "None taken. And just so know, I don't think the size thing is that weird. I mean she could just be into big mammals. I can relate to that!"

Collot's face shrivels into a disdainful grimace.

COLLOT: "Yeah we all know about your literal giant fetish dude...!"

Durham scratches back of his head and closes his eyes.

DURHAM: "You know, I used to have a hard time picturing Legosi with a girl to begin with. I mean he's a great guy, but I always figured that he was a little too quiet and weird to ever get one. Then we have his obsession with bugs. I mean that's not an attractive hobby."

As he thinks back to previous moments with Legosi, we see a montage of the wolf being just... Well, HIMSELF. These include times when he is just staring off into space, eating an egg sandwich or letting a spider walk over his hand. As this montage ends, Durham turns to Jack.

DURHAM: "Hey Jack. You've met this girl before, right? What is she like?"

Jack blinks, then looks over his shoulder, as if he is thinking hard about it. He then appears to have reached a conclusion and gives Durham an answer:

JACK: "She's nice."

The group stares at Jack in silence. Durham waves his hand in an urging fashion; he wants more details.

DURHAM: "And?"

Jack shrugs.

JACK: "And cute I suppose... I dunno, I just met her once, so I can't really paint a bigger picture of her. All I got from her is that seemed perfectly pleasant."

Durham looks dissatisfied with this.

DURHAM: "But what about the important stuff? Like... Like..."

He struggles to come up with what he is trying to say. It is then that Collot leans over and fills in with the question closest to his heart:

COLLOT: "How big are her breasts?"

Durham snaps his fingers at this, like it was exactly what he was trying to relay just now.  

DURHAM: "Precisely!"

Jack's face twists into an incredulous expression.

JACK: "THAT is the important stuff?!"

COLLOT: "Well yeah, I mean Legosi is a big guy like me. It's a fact of life: big guys like big jugs. I mean if you make out, would you be satisfied with pinching and pulling a pair of steamed buns or do you want your hands full of anpan?"

Jack stares at Collot with disapproval and a deep blush on his cheeks.

JACK: "Where did you learn that? Sex harassment ed? This is Legosi's girlfriend we're talking about, how about you showing a bit of class?"

This makes the rest of the guys look a little self-conscious, recognizing that they talked in a rather insensitive way about someone they haven't even met yet.

DURHAM: "Yeah, you're right."

MIGUNO: "Important thing is that she makes Legosi happy."

Collot nods.

COLLOT: "M-hm."

Things get quiet for a few seconds again, with them just eating.

VOSS: "You know, I do think the size play's a keyrole, but I don't think it's a tiddie-thing."

Voss puts the thumb and indexfinger of his left hand together to form a circle.

VOSS: "I mean just picture it..."

He forms his other hand into a fist which he then proceeds to push through the WAY too smal circle of his other hand. This prompts Jack to scream out loud in protest, earning the group weird looks from all over the cafeteria.

JACK: "CLASS VOSS! CLASS!" ---

TEXT BOX: 1 week and 2 days later.

Skipping ahead of time, we see Jack, Collot, Voss (who is riding on Collot's shoulder), Durham and Miguno walking through town during sometime in the afternoon.

COLLOT: "So what are you guys up for tonight? I'd personally be into a game of Catch'em Scratch'em*."

VOSS: "Well, you all know what my favorite game is."

COLLOT: "Don't tell me you want to play Fivelimbs* again? I hate to say it, but you know how it goes every time."

Voss shoots him an annoyed look.

VOSS: "Don't trample on my dream you big galoot. Besides, I have a new, mind-blowing strategy!"

DURHAM: "Does it involve using your ears? Cause they you may have a fighting chance against the rest of us."

Voss flips Durham off again.

VOSS: "Eh, fuck you!"

Miguno, who seems to be pondering on something, speaks up.

MIGUNO: "I just had a thought."

DURHAM: "Please tell me you don't want to play Word Wriggle* again. I mean half the words you come up with isn't part of any earthly language!"

Miguno waves this away with his hand.

MIGUNO: "No, no... I was thinking, what if we're too scary when we're together?"

The others give Miguno a confounded stare.

COLLOT: "Us? Scary? Are you serious?"

VOSS: "Have you ever met us? We're like the cuddliest-wuddliest bastards you'll ever come across."

MIGUNO: "I am serious. I mean, when a predation incident occurs, people avoid us like the plague. But, don't you think that's partly because we're all together?"

In Miguno's background we see the entire group (including Legosi) at an earlier point at Cherryton, walking through a school corridor together. As they walk through the halls together, several herbivores get out of the way, looking uncomfortable and/or scared.

MIGUNO: "I mean, a single carnivore can to a scared herbivore be enough. But there's five of us, six with Legosi. One by one it's not that bad, but with all of us together... Could it be that we're extra intimidating that way?"

The group continues to stare at Miguno. Durham looks disturbed.

DURHAM: "What did you bring that up for?"

MIGUNO: "Well I was thinking... What if this girl is going to get scared of us?"

Collot shakes his head at this.

COLLOT: "No way. If Legosi doesn't scare her, how could we?"

MIGUNO: "Legosi is just ONE carnivore, but what if being a small room with SIX might be too much for her?"

The group seems to think about this. Durham crosses his arms and adopts a pouty expression.

DURHAM: "That is just crazy...!"

JACK: "Well... Maybe not that crazy."

Everyone turns to look at Jack, who looks a bit worried.

JACK: "It has been proven in studies that herbivores who feel surrounded by a larger than average group of carnivores can experience heightened levels of stress and feelings of isolation. With more sensitive animals, it has even lead to panic attacks."

The group seems to take this bleak information in. Voss sigh and look depressed.

VOSS: "Well I guess we can forget about Fivelimbs then."

Durham throws his arms out in annoyance.

DURHAM: "Well that's just great, now we have to worry about scaring this poor girl to death!"

Miguno scratches his head, looking about as worried as Jack about this whole thing.

MIGUNO: "If we do that, we could just jeopardize our friendship with Legosi...!"

COLLOT: "Easy now, lets not panic. We just have to make sure we don't do anything that could make her feel threathened or anything."

DURHAM: "Like what? File down our teeth and shrink to Voss size?"

MIGUNO: "Jack, you know a lot about scientific stuff about herbivore/carnivore interactions. How can we make her feel safe around us?"

Jack scratches his chin and seems to work the old brain box to remember some useful information on this subject.

JACK: "Well... This is just what I've read in books, but..."

He holds up a finger, like he is about to hold a lecture. We see a few illustrations appearing in Jack's background: One is a basic drawing of dog-like carnivore, standing next to a basic drawing of a small, rabbit-like herbivore.

JACK: "One thing with smaller herbivores is that they are usually very self-conscious about their size. The biggest reminder of this is whenever they have to look up in order to meet a large animal's eyes."

The rabbit look up at the dog with a nervous look, a red, dotted line being drawn between it's eyes and the dog's.

JACK: "Kneeling or crouching down to eye level when greeting them can therefor make them feel more at ease."

The dog crouches down, so that his eyes are on the same level as the rabbit's. Another, green dotted line is drawn between them.

VOSS: "Well that sounds simple enough."

A new illustration appears behind Jack: The dog-like carnivore and the rabbit-like herbivore are now sitting opposite one another at a table.

JACK: "Another thing is that herbivores can experience reactionary spastic movements in their legs whenever they see carnivores eat."

As the dog eats some spagetti, we see the rabbit's legs twitch with non-voluntary movements under the table.

JACK: "It's an old reflex. The sight of sharp teeth at work triggers an inherited, physical memory that is prompting the herbivore to run."

Collot scratches the back of his head at this.

COLLOT: "I guess we could cover our mouths while eating... Anything else?"

JACK: "Well then there is the question of space."

Yet another illustration appears behind Jack: We see the rabbit surrounded by several, carnivore-like shadows. Panicky sweats are radiating from it's head.

JACK: "Herbivore's can experience an exaggerated sense of enclosure if the room is small and feels crowded with carnivores."

Miguno looks relatively calm about that fact.

MIGUNO: "Well it's a good thing we decided to rent a table at Yanni's then. That's place is both public and spacious." ---

We now find ourselves in an alley near the town center. There is an establishment in the building in front of us with a large sign above it that spells 'Yanni's Games & Coffee' with a logo that features a cup of coffee with a pair of dice in it, as if they were sugar cubes. It has a large store window with a display featuring lined up board games, including Know-Edge-Ledge*, Cages & Keepers* and Hungry-Hungry Wolf*, some big novelty chess pieces and two Catch'em Scratch'em cardboard cutouts on opposing sides of the display. A black fold-up sign is standing outside on the sidewalk with a text on it written with colored chalk, listing specials (cucumber sandwich, cinnamon buns and Latte Macchiato) and recommended games of today (Whack-the-Weevil* and Whodunnit*).

TEXT BOX: Yanni's Games & Coffee: An establishment located near the town center. It's a cafe where you can rent a table for a few hours and play various parlor games. It's a gathering place for various clubs and a popular spot for both herbivores and carnivores to sit and relax while also playing games together.

The boys from 701 are standing outside of it, looking at it with mild awe.

MIGUNO: "Seems like they've boosted the place up since the last time we were here."

Voss, Collot and Durham stare into the window excitedly, while Jack inspects the sign.

JACK: "Must've gotten more popular with time... I guess more and more people need calmer means of relaxing these days."

LEGOSI: "Hey!"

The boys turn, and they see that Legosi, accompanied by Haru, has arrived. Jack smile as he sees them.

JACK: "Ah, Legosi! Haru!"

The wolf and the bunny walk up to them.

LEGOSI: "We didn't make you guys wait for too long?"

Jack waves this away with his hand.

JACK: "No, no, we just got here."

The rest of the guys walk up behind Jack, each of them giving Haru curious looks. Haru steps forward and gives them a curt little bow.

HARU: "Hi, I am Haru. Legosi's girlfriend. It's nice to meet you."

The boys stare at her with starstruck expressions.

COLLOT, VOSS, DURHAM & MIGUNO: (This girl is...)

Haru flashes a friendly smile that seems to generate sparkles in the air around her. The boys all wag their tales.

COLLOT, VOSS, DURHAM & MIGUNO: (...SO FRICKING CUTE!)

--- TO BE CONTINUED

#beastars #legosi #haru #jack #voss #collot #durham #miguno #701 #2020 #fanfic #fanfiction #script style #golden retriever #grey wolf #dwarf rabbit #spotted hyena #coyote #fennec fox #jcl #everybody play the game

[rational-mastermind]

A/N: Hey!! Everyone wants more Quinnvoyant right? Right?? Well too bad, it’s all I have. And an au! Soulmate au where if you write on yourself, it’ll show up on your Soulmate.

--

  Everyone knew that if you wrote on yourself, it would appear on your soulmate as well. And Chris Quinn was no exception to this. Though, for a long time, there was only cute things like drawings of cats and rainbows and stars. Cute poems. Reminders. It was fine enough when he was a kid but as he got older it was just embarrassing. So he would wear long sleeves and hide the writing as best as he could.

   Sometimes he would talk with her, but she was too shy to reveal where she lived or who she was. Which kind of annoyed him. Wasn’t the whole point supposed to be that they would meet?

   When they got to high school, they talked less. Life got busy for her. Life was busy enough for him as well. Sometimes they would check in. Sometimes it would be reminders of homework assignments, or notes in class. Just kind of easily forgetting the other can see what they wrote.

   Then one day, his skin started getting covered in words, very quickly. Bright red marker showed up all over his arms and hands and it crawled all over his body. The same words over and over and over.

   “FREAK”

   “PSYCHO”

   “CREEP”

   “KILL ME”

   None too surprisingly, the only place she didn’t write was on her right arm. She was too busy writing, after all.

   Chris found a nearby ballpoint pen and began writing.

   “Et tu?”

   The scribbling suddenly stopped. For a moment he was worried. But then the ink began running off. It looked wet and began to run down his arms.

   Tears.

   After watching it a moment he began writing himself.

   “What happened?”

   “Bullies.” was the eventual reply.

   “Why?”

   “Cause it’s true.”

   “Same.”

   “What do you mean?”

   Chris sighed. He knew he wasn’t like other kids. They would all avoid him, be afraid of him, or talk about him weird just cause he talked about blood and death and demons and stuff that went bump in the night. He wasn’t gothic. Not by a long shot. He just...liked gore. He liked pain. He once got into a fight. One of the kids had a knife.

   He couldn’t stop giggling.

   There was something so...so thrilling, when he saw the red.

   The voices in his head only encouraged it.

   “I’m a psychopath.” he wrote.

   “I don’t think you are.”

   “That makes one of us.”

   “Well what makes you so weird?”

   “I… hear voices… And… I see things.”

   “Really?”

   “Yeah. But I’m told it’s not-”

   “Me too.”

   Chris stared at the two simple words. Somehow, it utterly stumped him. He felt...weird. He wasn’t sure why though. But he wasn’t entirely opposed to it.

   “What kind of things do you see?” he asked.

   “It’s hard to describe. Sometimes it’s people. Sometimes it’s just screaming. Or loud talking. Sometimes it’s colors and random pictures. What about you?”

   “More about dogs and demons and the end of the world and shit.”

   The rest of the writing on his body started to disappear. She was wiping it off.

   “Can we switch brains?”

   “Yeah, yours sounds more fun.” he chuckled to himself. After a moment’s thought he ventured forth to ask. “So what do you imagine I’m like?”

   “I don’t know. When I try to read you I get this weird image of something dirty and gritty like a horror movie. But at the same time, I also get this...warmth.”

   “Warmth?”

   “Like a towel out of the dryer. It’s warm and soft and it feels like home. It’s funny... Reading your words…”

   Chris felt a bizarre fuzziness grab hold of his brain. The world seemed to darken around him as she continued to write.

   “I can almost see you

   Christopher Quinn”

   Suddenly Chris felt very uneasy and quickly began rinsing off their conversation and scrub the words away. An unsettling chill surrounded him. It was weird. It was creepy. It was...sexy?

   Chris then proceeded to dunk his head under the sink and run cold water over him as well.

   They stopped talking after that.

   Chris got into writing. Finished high school and began making his living.

   Then the asylum.

   Then the Shadow.

   Then the Ministry.

   Chris went through so much hell. Of course it had its positives. There was Trilby and kicking demon ass. A good use of his psychotic tendencies. Making the world safe from the Shadow and keeping magic a secret. The people around the Ministry weren’t too bad. Yarrow was a bit...boring. But Jim was fun to mess with. And Claire was fun. There was always something to do, even if that something normally made Trilby roll his eyes.

   Then one day, well… It was bound to happen.

   Trilby was going to be out of action for a while. A mix up with a vampire left him incapable of going on assignments with Chris. But anyone who ever called Chris a “loose cannon” would recommend that he got someone to tag along in place of Trilby. Someone responsible and level-headed.

   Well who better than the absent-minded psychic he was pounding in the off hours?

   Yeah they were knocking boots. Nothing to get too attached over. It’s not like Chris got to know her life story or anything. Just letting off a bit of steam whenever they could hook up. All he knew was that she was very very much a psychic. Something he found interesting and she found best kept swept under the rug, much to his own disappointment.

   At first she seemed hesitant to go on a mission with him, but after some convincing, and a lot of unusual head shaking and slicing motions from Trilby behind her, she finally agreed.

   It was a simple mission. Done and over in a day. Of course it was the traveling that took the longest. It was on the farthest end of Ireland, naturally. It had some cultists and brainwashing and something to do with summoning a pagan deity. Claire was a natural and it was actually kind of fun getting to do work stuff with her.

   They were traveling back and Claire was already writing up their required report on a notepad. Chris couldn’t help but notice the way she gnawed on a pencil as she tried to focus. The way her fingers drummed through the air like she was at the computer back at HQ, if not fiddling with her large, round glasses. The way the air around her became still and focused as she accidentally projected her feelings about them. Chris could practically hear the gears grinding away in her brain as she tried to recall every needed detail.

   He chuckled to himself and it instantly snapped the tension in the air as her brain derailed.

   “What? What’s funny?” she asked, looking up.

   “Nothing. Just.. I dunno.” he shrugged. “You’re so focused.”

   “Well… I mean..” she shrugged as well. “It gets kinda hard to report faithfully.”

   “Eh those pricks in the higher-ups always find flaws in our reports. No matter what.” Chris rolled his eyes.

   “Hm. True.” Claire sighed. “But it’s not just them. You go looking through so many different minds, so many different vibes and lives it’s kinda easy to forget what’s happening in the real world. You know?”

   “Well.. No. I wouldn’t.” Chris glanced back at her.

   “Oh.. yeah, I guess you wouldn’t.”

   Chris chuckled again.

   “Hey by the way, you were pretty great back there.”

   “Hmm.. I wouldn’t say that.” Claire shrugged.

   “You kidding me? The way you fucked with that one-”

   “Ummm.” Claire interrupted and Chris noticed she looked horribly uncomfortable as she fidgeted with her glasses more. “If.. If it’s all the same Chris.. Can we not talk about...that?”

   “Oh.. Right. Sorry. Forget that makes you uneasy.”

   “Just…something drilled into me, I guess.”

   There was a moment of silence. Then Chris spoke up.

   “Hey um.. Can I...ask something?”

   “If you wanna know if I can predict the future, the answer is no.” Claire rolled her eyes.

   “Damn.” Chris clicked his tongue in disappointment. “....Did you always hate your powers?”

   “Mm..” Claire was quiet for a moment before she shrugged and looked out the window of the car. “What was there to like?”

   “Um, cause it’s fucking psychic powers.”

   “Yeah, exactly.” she sighed. “They always got me in trouble.. It.. Creeps a lot of people out.”

   “Come on. It couldn’t have always been that bad-”

   “No. It was.” Claire growled, her voice taking on a tone akin to earlier that day, but somehow lacking the same venom behind it. “It was always that bad. It was awful. You’ve no idea.”

   “...Well… Like what?”

   “....Like earlier.” Claire shrugged. “But.. By accident. I would...hurt them.. And scare them.”

   Chris frowned. Claire was normally so bubbly, happy, a bit forgetful, but chipper despite the depressing and horrific nightmare that their livelihood was. He hated seeing her this downtrodden. It was wrong. Like on a fundamental scale, this was just wrong.

   “...Did.. Something traumatic happen?” he asked. “Something that made you hate it so much?”

   Claire gave a dry chuckle before replying. “I wouldn’t say...traumatic but.. Well.. It did drive a wedge between me and some really important people.”

   “Was there a guy?”

   “....Yeah…”

   Chris felt something grip him. A sudden kind of deep-rooted anger. The kind akin to staring down a vampire or some other unholy abomination. Not counting Trilby, of course.

   “Who-”

   “Should get some gas. Before the ferry.”

   Chris sighed but found a station and pulled over. Clearly she didn’t wanna keep talking. While he was filling up, she went inside to use the bathroom.

   “Look over the report. Jot down anything I missed, got it?”

   “Yeah..”

    Chris felt crummy and stupid and angry. Claire was a great person! Why would anyone hate her for having psychic powers? Okay yeah so she kind of really mentally fucked with that one guy. And yeah okay so maybe she kinda caused another to have an aneurysm. Yeah sure that might’ve been a more common problem when she was a kid and yeah it might’ve been like Stephen King’s Fury, but so?

   And it’s not like Chris would’ve hurt this guy…. Much.

   He growled and kicked a tire before getting back in the car. He sighed and leaned against the wheel, waiting for Claire to return. That was when he noticed Claire’s notepad left laying on the space between their seats. Oh right.. Reporting.

   Chris sighed and grabbed it. He looked over the notes. Everything seemed in order. She left off at the part where cultists were about to start sacrificing the local children but she’ll likely finish jotting down the basic plot when they got back. Chris grabbed the ballpoint pen she had been using and was about to go back and fix her grammar when something caught his eye.

   A small doodle Claire had in the corner. It was a cat.

   Chris squinted and looked it over carefully. It looked familiar.

   Suddenly it dawned on him. He had seen this before.

   Chris’ mind started racing, putting all the pieces together. But.. But how could he prove it? And how could he prove it without worrying Claire?

   Chris then looked back at the pen in his hand and had a perfect idea.

   Meanwhile Claire was hiding in the bathroom. She knew this was a bad idea. She knew this was gonna be horrible! She knew this was gonna happen and she just had to keep playing with fire, didn’t she??

   “Stupid stupid stupid!” Claire banged her head on the wall. “Listen! To your! Intuition!!”

   Of course she knew who he was. Ever since the first day Trilby introduced him at the STP.

   Claire and Trilby were discussing the differences in using iodized salt compared to sea salt, though ultimately, they both knew pink Himalayan was best. But then Claire felt it. A familiar presence.

    She suddenly felt an oncoming wave of giddy excitement that made her almost tremble. And a familiar warmth that quickly wrapped around her like a towel fresh out of the dryer.

   “Claire? You okay?”

   “Think someone’s-”

   “Trilby! We gotta go do a thing with cake- Oh. Hey.” Chris had rounded the door to Trilby’s cubicle but stopped short seeing Claire.

   “Hey.” Claire waved.

   “First of all, never again. Secondly, I never introduced you two, have I? Chris, meet Claire. Claire-”

   But she already knew who he was. But a deep anxiety prevented her from saying anything. But after getting to meet him, within all of five minutes she forgot entirely, simply living in the moment. And then she forgot again when they agreed to meet up after work. And she kept forgetting to a point it would’ve felt awkward to start saying anything then and gosh dammit.

   ‘Claire, why do you do this to yourself??’ she sighed and stepped out of the bathroom. ‘Always have to make everything awkward and weird…youfreak Can’t just remember to freaking speak up and say what’s on your mind?’

   Claire only hoped Chris would drop the subject and they could return to their normal status quo. At least she got to see him. At least they got to talk face to face. It was better than what most people could hope for. After all, some people never find their soulmates.

  ‘But they write every day.’  her unhelpful thoughts reminded her as she returned to the car. ‘When was the last time we wrote to each other?’

   She opened the car door and-

   “I KNEW IT!!!”

    “Aah!”

   Claire stumbled back, tripped on her heels and fell backwards onto the pavement.

   “What the hell, Chris?!” Claire scolded as she picked herself up.

   “Take a look in the mirror!”

   She got up and looked at her reflection in the window. She gasped, seeing a rather crude doodle of a cat across her cheek. She looked through the window only to find Chris with a matching mark and a wide grin stretching from ear to ear.

   “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?!” he asked.

   Claire stammered, laughed, and ended up crying. Her heart was pounding, she felt scared and worried. Chris’ smile disappeared and he got out of the car and came around to her.

   “Hey.. Hey hey hey. Hang on now.” he came over and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “What? What is it?”

   “I thought you’d hate me.” Claire managed to get out with a hiccup.

   “I know.. I’m sorry.. I didn’t hate you. I never did! I just.. You…”

   “Scared you.. Like.. I scare everyone.” she sniffled.

   “No! You didn’t scare me! I just.. I.. I dunno.” Chris shrugged. “I was a dumb teenager. I didn’t know what I was feeling.. I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry…”

   Claire simply shook her head. Chris ran a hand through his hair and thought for a moment.

   “...If it’ll make you feel better I could still kick my ass.”

  Claire laughed. She choked and then giggled some more and finally started wiping away her tears.

   “Please don’t.”

   Chris smiled and hugged her tight. She weakly hugged him back.

   “I’m sorry.”

   “I know..”

   After that, they began writing to each other more and more often. Little notes, here and there.

 “That was a lot of fun last night.”

 “There’s coffee in the breakroom.”

 “Fought a ghost. It was gross.”

 “Kissed one the other day.”

 “I’m stealing the last slice of cake. Don’t tell Trilby.”

   It was nice. It was fun. It was one thing that Claire would say was normal about their lives.

  “You wanna do something else after work tonight?”

 “I got a new cat figurine!”

 “Got to see the sunset while on the job. Reminded me of..”

 “Hey you’ve been quiet. You okay?”

 “Can I tell you something?”

   “I love you.”

#chzo mythos #quinnvoyant #chris quinn #claire #soulmate au #my writing #rational writing

[tournesolia]

Lunatic Parade Sakamaki Prologue Translation

Yui : (I hope that everything is going to be okay)

??? : … Geez... What the hell is going on ?

Yui : (I can hear someone speaking...)

???2 : There's no way it happened by accident.

???3 : Then, perhaps Little Bitch is...

*Yui enters the living room and sees all the brothers

Place : Sakamaki house, living room

Yui : … Everyone...

(It looks like they're safe, I'm glad. I wonder if I was just otherthinking)

(… But...)

Ayato : Oh, speaking of the devil, here's breastless

Yui : Good morning, everyone. What are you doing all together here ?

Ayato : Holy shit...

I came here to distract myself from that weird dream I had...

And all I get is that we all got same dream...

Yui : Dream... ?

Reiji : That's right... A dream where a strange man asked us to confess

Kanato : Uuh... That was scary... Being told by a stranger to confess my sins... What was that guy ?

Yui : … !

Laito : That reaction... Did you have a similar dream, Little Bitch ?

Yui : Y-Yes... That's the case, actually

So I came here, feeling anxious. Don't tell me you too... ?

Shu : Sigh... I feel like something incredibly troublesome is going to happen...

Reiji : There's a possibilty it's already happening, though

Subaru : … Shit...

*Subaru punches a wall two times

Reiji : –  Anyway. Do you have any ideas ?

Have you notice something strange besides this dream... ?

Yui : – Ah ! There was this card in my room

*Yui shows them the card

Reiji : … The sender is... the earl of Walter !?

Yui : Um... Is this “earl of Walter” one of your acquaintances ?

Reiji : No. However... There's not a single person in the Demon World who never heard of him

This includes us, vampires...

Because he's famous as a collector who collects stolen treasures

Yui : Stolen treasures... ?

Reiji : That's right. He's what you call a “phantom thief” in the Human World

Yui : A phantom thief !?

Reiji : Yes. He lives inside Bernstein castle, in the Demon World...

He collected dozens... no, hundred of stolen treasures so far

Some people gathered at his castle to get back those stolen treasures, but it seems to be too difficult for them

The earl seems to be proud he never gave back a single one of those treasures

– Well, in other words, he's an extremely troublesome person

Yui : I-I see

Reiji : … And there's a possibility that he robbed something important from us as well

Everyone, please check your surroundings

*some time passes

Yui : (Hmm... We looked all around the mansion but nothing seems to have been stolen)

Ayato : Geez... I dunno who's that “Holder” or “Filter” guy, but what the hell did he plan to do ?

Kanato : Isn't it just some poor prank ?

Laito : Maybe he came over for a bit because he was lonely in his castle all by himself

Yui : (I wonder...)

Subaru : Tch... It was just a coincidence that we had the same dream or something, after all

Shu : Anyway, good thing this story is already over. I'll go to sleep... Yawn...

Yui : (But I have a bad feeling about this. Something feels a bit off. I'm feeling weird...)

(I feel as if I forgot something important...)

Reiji : …

Yui : Reiji-san... ?

Reiji : You there. Did he really not steal anything important from you ?

Yui : Eh... ? N-No

There's no traces of things in my room that disappeared and I still have my rosary with me

Reiji : I see

– Then, did he steal something valuable from your body ?

Yui : M-My body ? There's no way he would steal something from my body

Reiji : Do you think so ?

Please put your hand on your chest and think carefully... No, please try to feel it

The most valuable thing for your body...

That's right... Try to feel whether or not your heart is beating

Yui : (… My heart...)

*Yui closes her eyes

Yui : …

….........

(… No way... T-That's...)

*Yui reopens her eyes

Yui : … I-It's not beating...

Ayato, Kanato, Laito, Shu and Subaru : … !?

Reiji : … So I was right. What he stole is your heart

Yui : Eeeeeh... !?

Ayato : Now that you say it, I can't smell breastless's blood. I can't believe it...

Yui : Wh... What's going on ? How did he... ?

(No, more importantly...)

W-Why am I still... ? I'm supposed to die if I lose my heart, right ?

Reiji : There's one thing I can think of

It must be because of a special ore from the Demon World called “Kleinod” which is embedded inside your body in place of your heart

Yui : Kleinod...

Reiji : Right now, you're in an extremely special state where you're neither a human nor a vampire

Besides... The kleinod won't last for a long time

We must get your heart back as soon as possible, or else...

– When the kleinod will reach its limit, you will either die or turn into a vampire

Yui : (N-No way...!)

I don't know when exactly the

kleinod will reach its limit.

Before it happens, I must get

my heart back from the earl of

Walter by any means.

So we decided to hurry and head to

Bernstein castle in the Demon World,

where the earl lives--

Place : Bernstein castle - Castle town suburbs

Laito : Hehe... The parade is very lively ♪ Since we're here, I want to enjoy the parade alone with you

Yui : Laito-kun...

Vampire woman A : – Hehe, the parade is especially exciting this year

Vampire woman B : Yes. I was so excited I couldn't sleep yesterday

Vampire woman C : I'm looking forward to the finale ~ !

Yui : (I might have enjoyed it if this incident didn't happen, but... There's nothing I can do now)

??? : Hm ? This is...

Yui : (The Mukamis...!)

Ayato : You bastards, why are you here !?

Kou : Howdy, Ayato-kun ♪ We came because we received an invitation

Subaru : An invitation ? You guys received one as well ?

Ruki : … You mean the Sakamaki family received an invitation as well... ?

Reiji : That's right

Laito : … It became somewhat noisy in no time, huh

Kanato : They can't help being so loud

Azusa : Kanato-san... This chilli pepper ice... Is it delicious ?

Yuma : Hey, Azusa, don't get yourself dizzy !

Shu : Sigh... It's already bad enough those annoying guys came

Yuma : Aaah !? What the hell is wrong with you !? We just happened to pass by here !

Kou : Nooow nooow, you should calm down Yuma-kun at least. It's this lovely parade's day

Azusa : That's right. But... Eve... You look pale... What's wrong... ?

Yui : … Well, um...

??? : So we got caught up into a silly incident after all. What's up ?

Yui : Shin-kun and Carla-san...

Shin : Well well... Something must have been arranged so we would all meet by chance

Carla : …

Reiji : Good grief... What kind of curse is...

It can't be helped. Because it's better to have many cooperators only this time

In fact--

*Reiji explains the situation to everyone

Carla : – I see. Losing this woman would be unfavorable to us, founders

Ruki : A temporary truce... It would be a wise decision at this stage

Shu : That's it. Sigh... I don't wanna stay with you at such a place. Bye

*The boys go their separate ways

Yui : (I can't stand still either. I will follow--)

Sakamaki prologue : End

#Diabolik Lovers #diabolik lovers translations #diabolik lovers lunatic parade #Komori Yui #sakamaki ayato #Sakamaki Kanato #sakamaki laito #sakamaki shu #sakamaki reiji #sakamaki subaru #Mukami Ruki #mukami kou #mukami yuma #mukami azusa #tsukinami carla #tsukinami shin #prologue

[my-creative-hell]

Music (Teen au)

Grave and Hannah sit inside her room in the twin’s house, Iden was out for practice and they had a lab assignment to work on together, being lab partners. Hannah sits on the floor with her Braille laptop resting in her lap as Grave is lounging on her bed so she could see over the shorter girls shoulders easily as she types.

The project wasn’t ridiculous, a study on atoms and their makeup, and how they formed molecules and were the building blocks of everything in pure scientific and mathematical terms. An in depth study, if you will. But, there was a lot of work to be done, even between the two of them. Hannah had been working on it for the better part of a week, preventing her from sleeping as she was striving to create the best quality of work she could, researching at ungodly hours of the night instead.

“We are the science boi’s. Gonna… save… the worl. With s c i e n c e.” Grave flaps her hands around in a happy manner as she speaks, making Hannah snort through her nose as she can feel the breeze being created by Grave.

“I mean, maybe…” Hannah half answers, focusing more on what she was currently typing out onto the computer, trying to make sure she didn’t spell anything wrong by going too fast.

“Just a couple of smort boi’s. We’re very smart. Awesome dudes.” Grave smiles as she flaps her arms more, the breeze getting stronger for Hannah as she continues to type.

“I hope we’re smart, otherwise we’re gonna fail this paper.” Hannah says blandly, focusing on her typing once more.

“Yeah… if you don’t mind me asking, are you okay? You seemed kinda off these past few days and I-I just…” Grave sighs as she continues. “I just wanna know if something’s wrong.”

“Hm?” Hannah hums out as she types, talking a second to register what Grave had asked of her. “Nothing out of the ordinary, just really wanna get this finished.” She explains nonchalantly, her voice sounding neutral and blunt.

“I know, but…” Grave shrugs and lays down on the bed more. “I don’t want you to like, pass out in the middle of the thing. Like we go to present it and you just flop onto the floor and pass out… that sounds like it hurts a little. I don’t want that to happen to you.” Grave explains as Hannah listens to her slightly concerned voice, unphased.

“I’ll be fine, Grave. It’s not like I haven’t stayed up a bunch before. I’ll survive.” Hannah reasons as she types. She had done this shit all too often, and it barely messed her up anymore, though it hadn’t been a full week for a while, so it was a bit harder.

“But… that’s not good. I’ll do the rest of it you go to sleep.” Grave offers, Hannah snorting, a small smirk on her face as she types.

“I’m not tired Grave, trust me. Besides, I’m in the zone right now, I don’t wanna break it.” She reasons, which was true. Hannah had currently entered a steady workflow, and to break it would just annoy her at this point.

“Okay…” Grave huffs as she answers, allowing Hannah to continue working on the project, typing up all of the information they had jotted down.

“Sides, its not been that long…” Hannah tries to reason, though it kind of had, and she knew that. But worrying Grave meant her pestering Hannah about sleeping, and she didn’t want that.

“I don’t feel like that’s true, but okay I guess.” Grave says in a neutral tone as she watches Hannah, who frowns as she works.

“You sound annoyed, are you annoyed?” Hannah questions, pausing her typing for a moment as she questions Grave, unsure of the tone of voice she had used.

“No! I-I’m actually really concerned. Like, you don’t seem okay at all.” Grave explains, the worry a bit more obvious to Hannah in her voice now, making her stop her typing for a moment.

“How do I not seem okay?” She questions, confused. Though she couldn’t see herself, she was sure she looked okay, considering she always looked tired as hell, no matter how much she slept.

“I-I um…” Grave fiddles with her fingers as she struggles to answer. “I just… for some reason… I-I dunno how to explain it, b-but something felt wrong-” Grave tries, though Hannah still looks confused.

“I think I’ve been the same. I mean, I haven’t been super off, have I?” Hannah questions, turning her head towards Grave now as she asks.

“Yeah, not extremely… but its still noticeable.” Grave explains, Hannah nodding as she scrunches her face up.

“Well, I guess I haven’t stayed up this long in a bit, so maybe that’s why. Also running off of coffee does fun things I guess.” Hannah explains, shrugging nonchalantly as she talks.

“I almost set a dude on fire when I drank coffee. Well it wasn’t really coffee, it was a fuck ton of espresso shots, eighteen five hour energies and something else. I’m pretty sure I ascended into the astral plane.” Grave explains her story, making Hannah snort.

“That’s pretty impressive, not gonna lie.” Hannah admits. “Don’t think I’m quite there yet, just using it to stay alert and shit.” She explains, turning away from Grave again as she prepares to resume her typing.

“Makes sense, but if I cant get you to sleep now… can you like at l e a s t take a nap after you work for a few more minutes?” Grave asks Hannah, staring at her with puppy eyes she knew she couldn’t see. “Please? I can take over!” Hannah lets out a deflated sounding sigh in response.

“Grave… look, I’m fine. I really just wanna get this done so I can stop stressing about it.” Hannah reasons as she starts typing again.

“You don’t have to stress about it! I said I can do the rest.” Grave says as she pouts, crossing her arms as she watches Hannah rub her hands over her face.

“C’mon Grave, we haven’t got that much left, its fine…” Hannah almost groans out, looking more tired as she gets frustrated.

“It doesn’t matter, my fresh Cicada Honda civic broski! You need to r e s t. if not now, you rest the second you finish or else I’m gonna put impossible to thaw turkeys in your closet.” Grave threatens, making Hannah laugh, though it sounds very off.

“Sure, Grave. It’ll either be don’t today or tomorrow, depending on any new information…” Hannah explains as she works.

“T o m o r r o w??” Grave sighs, Hannah not saying anything in response, only nodding her head as she types. “Hhhhh.” Grave covers her face as she frowns. “Bad. This is b a d.” She complains.

“It’s fine, it could be worse.” Hannah reasons out, voice back to being blunt and uncaring.

“That doesn’t make it okay! Just because it can be so much worse doesn’t make the current situation alright.” Grave argues as she frowns down at Hannah, who shrugs.

“It makes it slightly more acceptable to me.” She deadpans. Grave makes a sound of concern in response, flailing her arms around her.

“Are you flapping? You sound like you are…” Hannah observes as she works, listening to Grave behind her.

“Yeah, but its not happy flapps!! Its c o n c e r n.” Grave emphasises as she speaks.

“I gathered. What are you so concerned about?” Hannah questions, raising an eyebrow as she works, though she knows Grave isn’t currently looking at her face.

“Sleeb!!!! You!!!! I’m concerned about you!!!!” Grave exclaims, making Hannah laugh again, sounding broken.

“Grave, I’ll sleep when it’s done. Until then I just have to get through, and I’ll be fine.” Hannah explains as she types. Grave frowns in response.

“But I can do the rest of it!!! I know what to write!!!” She exclaims in argument, Hannah sighing.

“Its fine Grave, I’m already doing it, and you’ve already helped a lot. You can’t force me to sleep, so just let me do what I’m doing.” Hannah curtly responds, not moving from typing on her laptop.

“Ugh… fine.” Grave pouts as she answers, almost making Hannah smile.

“Thanks…” Hannah trails off as she works, trying to get absorbed into the flow once again so she had a chance of finishing the work faster.

“…wanna listen to music?” Grave offers, making Hannah pause for a second before she continues typing.

“Music?” Hannah questions as she works, not quite sure how to respond. She liked music, but she never tended to listen to it while she worked, since it removed one of her remaining senses.

“Yeah, m u s i c.” Grave insists, Hannah thinking it over.

“I don’t normally listen to anything while I work, sides, don’t you wanna talk?” She questions as she types, cocking her head as she talks.

“God, you sound like such a mum.” Grave chuckles.

“How rude, show some respect.” Hannah jokes lightly as she works, a small smirk on her face.

“Oh, I’m t e r r i b l y sorry, mother. How shall you e v e r forgive me?” Grave puts on a snobby rich guy voice as she talks, making Hannah snort.

“Alright, no need to be an ass.” She smirks as she jokes around, making Grave laugh.

“Sorry, I had to do my best ‘rich asshole’ impression or else it would simply be a bit b l e h.” Grave explains, making Hannah smile slightly.

“That’s fair enough, it was pretty good.” Hannah admits with a smile as she listens to Grave.

“Thank you, I try my best!” Grave says in a proud voice.

“That doesn’t surprise me…” Hannah laughs, sounding slightly happier than before.

“I’m glad it doesn’t!” Grave flaps her arms around a bit. “Heyyy Hannah, guess what?” Grave asks in a pitched voice.

“What, Grave?” Hannah asks in a neutral voice as she works. She had a knack for always sounding annoyed, but Grave knew her well enough to know she just sounded like that.

“You!!! Are!!! Rad!!! Radder than ten whole cakes!!!!!” Grave exclaims, making Hannah smirk.

“That’s a lot of cake. You’re pretty rad yourself.” Hannah admits as she focuses on typing.

“I am?” Grave questions, surprised, making Hannah snort lightly.

“Yeah, least I think so.” She shrugs, though a small smile plays at her lips as she pauses in her work to compliment Grave.

“Thank!!! You!!!” Grave flaps her arms around more and starts tapping her feet onto the bed in happiness.

“Oh my, calm down, you’re gonna smack me. But you’re welcome.” Hannah smiles as she hears the noises coming from Grave in her excitement and happiness. Grave smiles largely as she stops her flapping.

“Okay, sorry. But really, would you like a m u s i c? its not rude cuz I’ll be listening to some music too!” Grave reassures, Hannah pausing.

“You sure?” She questions, tilting her head towards Grave as she asks.

“Positive.” Grave assures Hannah firmly, making her smirk.

“Okay then, I’ll accept some music.” Hannah yields, her voice lighter and jokier as she speaks. Grave carefully hands her the headphones.

“Happy borthmas, hav music maker.” Grave says in a jovial voice, making Hannah snicker.

“Thanks, you weirdo.” Hannah jokes as she takes the headphones. She puts them on, and if she could have said something, she would. Her brain instantly felt fuzzy and wrong, like it was being shut off by something, even though the headphones didn’t seem to be doing anything yet. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for her mind to completely shut off, Hannah collapsing and falling sideways onto the floor of her room, her laptop being knocked off of her as she falls. It takes Grave a few seconds to process what just happened before she reacts.

“fuCK-” She panics as Hannah lays unconscious on the floor. Grave moves quickly, getting down beside Hannah, quickly pressing her fingers against her neck to check for a pulse, making sure Hannah was still alive. She manages to find one, and it feels normal as it pulses against Grave’s fingers.

“Good. Nice. That’s… good… hh shit.” Grave panics as she hovers over Hannah on the floor. Grave pulls out her phone, calling Iden, waiting in a panic for him to answer.

“Grave? You okay?” The voice of Iden floods through the phone as he answers, sounding confused, with an edge of concern.

“I’m fine, but we’ve run into a minor problem-” Grave admits, Iden instantly growing more concerned.

“Problem? Whats happened?” Iden asks, the concern more evident in his voice as he talks on the phone, wandering farther away from the practice he was participating in.

“Hannah passed out.” Grave says simply, Iden making a strangled noise on the other end.

“She what?!” He exclaims worriedly, voice strained and coarse with immediate stress.

“Yeah, I um… I-I don’t know why. But she’s breathing okay-” Grave reassures, a small sigh of relief coming from Iden.

“Okay, at least she’s breathing.” Iden reassures himself, thinking for a moment. “Did she do anything weird?” He questions in a serious voice.

“No. She just pa-o h.” Grave realises something, mentally hitting herself.

“Oh? Whats oh?” Iden asks, worry spiking again as he thinks over the many possibilities.

“The headphones. I gave her headphones and she passed out.” Grave explains, only confusing and worrying Iden more.

“Headphones?” He questions, sounding utterly lost with the situation that was playing out over the phone.

“Yeah, headphones…” Grave sighs. “Okay, could you come up here?” Grave asks, listening as Iden immediately starts moving.

“Yeah, course I can. Give me like ten minutes, okay?” He asks, already signalling to his teammates that he had to leave and leave now.

“Okay!” Grave exclaims gently, listening to Iden shift around.

“I’ll be there in ten, make sure she’s alright…” Iden hangs up the phone, presumably getting ready to leave and picking up his gear for the walk back to the twins house, though he would likely run it.

“Okay…” Grave sits in silence besides Hannah, who looks very tired now that she could see her properly.

“It’s good that you’re finally sleeping…” Grave smiles a bit as she looks at Hannah, who looked more peaceful than she had ever really seen her as a teen.

Grave gently picks Hannah up, the smaller teen not weighing a ridiculous amount, placing her carefully on the bed and pulling the headphones off of her head as she does so. Grave sits with Hannah until she hears the downstairs door unlock, indicating Iden had returned to the house.

“Grave?” He calls out from downstairs, sounding slightly concerned as he puts his stuff down in the living room, throwing it onto the sofa.

“Yeah. I’m… here.” Grave steps out of the room, Iden coming up the stairs towards her, looking concerned.

“Okay, this is fine, is she okay?” He questions as he reaches Grave.

“Yeah! She sleebin.” Grave elaborates, making Iden huff as he pinches his nose.

“My question is why and how, because I know she didn’t do it on her own…” Iden explains as he looks at Grave, knowing Hannah was way too stubborn to be convinced to sleep.

“The h e a d p h o n e s.” Grave insists as she gestures towards them where they lay in the room.

“You managed to make a pair of headphones that do that?” Iden questions, looking exasperated.

“…” Grave looks down at her feet and mutters the next words. “Yeah.” She admits, Iden frowning.

“I’m going to assume you didn’t mean to do this, otherwise you are in deep shit.” He explains in a slightly stern voice, looking down at Grave, though concern still tugged at his features.

“Yeah, I gave her the wrong ones…” Grave admits. Iden sighs, running his hands over his face in a tired manner.

“This isn’t good, you know that right?” He questions, looking into the room at his twin, his expression twisted and worried.

“Yeah, I-I know… I wouldn’t have said anything if it was alright…” Grave agrees, watching as Iden walks into the room, sitting on the floor.

“She’s gonna freak out… shit.” Iden swears, something he never did. He left all of that to his twin, not liking the way it sounded when he said it.

“Sorry.” Grave takes the laptop off of the floor, making sure it still worked and placing it on her lap as soon as she’s sure it does.

“It’s not your fault, I doubt she even told you enough to know why she’s gonna freak out, did she?” Iden questions, huffing as he puts his head in his hands on the floor, exhausted.

“She…” Grave shakes her head. “She didn’t.” She admit, Iden sighing and leaning his head further into his hands.

“Of course she didn’t… so you cant even know the reality of the situation, that’s not fair.” He explains, sounding frustrated and exasperated. He didn’t blame Hannah, nor was he mad at her, but Grave couldn’t have known what was so wrong about this entire thing, and that wasn’t fair to anyone.

“I mean, if she didn’t tell me that probably means she didn’t want me to know, so that’s fine. I don’t wanna know something she didn’t want me to… if that makes sense.” Grave shrugs.

“She was planning on mentioning it, she spoke to me about it, asked it I was okay with it. I guess she hadn’t figured out when to do it. But she did want you to know.” Iden explains gently, raising his head to look at Grave with a more serious expression.

“Oh…” Grave mumbles as she looks down at the keyboard of the laptop. “Well I can wait until she wakes up for that.” She reasons, Iden smiling sadly.

“I wouldn’t expect her to want to talk to you…” He explains in a gentle voice, not wanting to make Grave upset, but needing her to know the truth.

“I…” Grave nods in acceptance. “Good point.” She admits, Iden coming to sit next to her.

“Unfortunately…” He agrees sadly, a small smile pressed onto his face.

“It’s understandable though, so I’m not really disappointed. Just wish I didn’t ask if she wanted some music…” Grave trails off, Iden looking concerned and worried for her.

“You didn’t mean to, and you couldn’t have known. But the unfortunate reality is you, accident or no, put a traumatised person into a state of complete vulnerability they’re afraid of, against their will.” Iden explains gently, keeping his voice low and soft.

Grave looks at him, looking like she wanted to say something, but had no idea of what she could even say or how she could respond to what Iden had just told her, her face reading this loud and clear, making Iden smile sadly, giving her a sideways hug.

“I know, it’s harsh… I don’t want to upset you, that’s the least of my intentions. But, we’ve had a rough life, and we’re both still pretty messed up. Hannah might just need some time…” Iden explains in a gentle and soft voice as he hugs Grave.

“You didn’t upset me, Iden. I just had no idea what to say.” Grave chuckles and hugs Iden back. “But that’s understandable… sorry life was an ass to you.”

“It’s okay, we got out this year, now it’s just about dealing with it…” Iden smiles gently.

“I’m glad you got out…” Grave tightens her hug, making Iden smile.

“We were lucky the owner of this house knew us and allowed us to rent off the books.” Iden explains as he smiles, his gratitude evident in his voice.

“That’s good!! Glad they weren’t a shart-face.” Grave muses, making Iden laugh.

“Me too…” He agrees as he hugs the smaller girl close to him, watching as Grave finishes the work Hannah had been doing for her so she wouldn’t have to stress when she woke up in about eight hours.

 The next day when Grave goes to school and heads into their shared lab class, she can see Hannah sitting at her normal desk with her laptop in front of her as normal, though something was different. Hannah normally wore ear buds to listen to her recorded lessons, allowing her to make notes at her own pace, since she couldn’t see what was written on the board in front of her. But normally, she would only put in one ear bud in case Grave wanted to chat, though today both of them were in, blocking out the world around Hannah.

Grave sighs gently, sitting down at her own desk beside Hannah. She wants desperately to speak to the other girl, to apologise to her, but she knew it probably wouldn’t end well, so she stay silent as Hannah registers her sitting down, never turning away from typing on her laptop as she plays through one of her lessons, still looking tired, worn out and stressed. Grave frowns, but looks at the board as the lesson starts, paying attention to the words the teacher was saying.

Grave watches silently throughout the day as Hannah avoids her, not speaking a word to anyone, not even the teachers, simply completing her work and leaving the lessons, eating alone and eventually, heading home alone, never interacting with Grave. And Grave let her. She didn’t want to upset Hannah anymore than had already been done, so she left her alone, despite how much she didn’t want to.

The next day, Hannah comes in the same way, alone and silent. She looked more tired and worn out, not engaging with anyone at all, simply putting her ear buds in and working in silence, refusing to speak at this point. Grave continues as she had the day before, feeling worse about the situation as she watches Hannah avoid almost everyone, staying by herself all day, even to eat. She left school alone again, not even saying goodbye of acknowledging Grave.

The third day, Hannah looks a little worse. She’s sitting in class as normal when Grave walks in and takes her seat next to her, her ear buds in her ears, though she handy turned them on yet, unbeknownst to her. The class was noisy as they waited on the teacher, and it was getting to Hannah, the tiredness she felt not helping, clawing at the inside of her brain and making it feel itchy and wrong. Everything that was being said melted inside her brain, being turned into pointless white noise that fogged her thoughts, and made her panic, as it effectively blocked off the most useful sense she had left. After a couple of minutes, Hannah felt like she would either explode or cry if she didn’t move, and she wasn’t about to let everyone see that. Without speaking a word, she pushes her chair out from her desk, leaving the room silently. Grave follows her out of the room, watching as she goes into the single disabled toilet, since she never used the normal toilets, finding them way too cluttered and annoying in her blindness, shutting and locking the door behind her.

“Um… look, I-I came to apologize. You don’t have to respond, that’s… that’s fine. I didn’t mean to put you to sleep. I-I know you don’t like being vulnerable around other people and… sorry.” Grave apologises as she stands outside the door of the stall. Hannah doesn’t respond, making Grave think at first that she doesn’t want to answer, but after a few seconds, she can hear the panicked breathing coming from inside the stall, that was preventing Hannah from talking to her.

“Hannah?” Grave says softly as she lightly knocks on the door of the stall. Hannah doesn’t answer using words, but a whimper like whine can be heard through the door.

“Can…” Grave hesitates before continuing. “C-Can you open the door please?” Grave asks, listening for Hannah behind the door. There’s a long pause, but eventually Grave can hear shifting in the larger stall, the lock beginning to shake as Hannah unlocks the door so Grave can come in.

“Thank you.” Grave says in a smaller voice as she gently pushes open the door to the stall. Hannah has pushed herself against the wall, shaking, and her head on her knees, not allowing Grave to see her face with her hands covering her ears due to over stimulation.

Grave, not knowing what to do or say, sits close to Hannah in silence. Hannah’s ears are still ringing and noises don’t seem to be picked up as well as they should, making the world she knew blurred and distorted. The hands on her head automatically start to go at her skin a little, her cut down nails scratching at her skin to create a sensation to distract from what was going on in her head.

Grave gently pulls Hannah’s hands away from her head to prevent her form hurting herself, holding onto them as Hannah resists slightly, sounding panicked. Grave keeps her grip gentle and kind, trying not to stress her out even more, but knowing she cant allow her to potentially injure herself.

“Um… would you like… head touchies?” Grave asks in a soft voice, watching as Hannah leans back off of her knee’s slightly, allowing Grave to see her tear stained and tired face, giving her a very small nod to indicate she was okay with that.

Grave gently pushes their foreheads together, Hannah accepting the gentle touch as she continues to shake a little, trying to steady her breathing. After a minute, Hannah proceeds to slump into Grave, falling gently on her shoulder. Grave gently hugs Hannah, feeling slightly worried at how Hannah had fallen onto her, Hannah leaning into Grave, not talking.

“Cool, you aren’t dead.” Grave mutters gently, the worry being thrown from her mind as she smiles slightly. Hannah’s arms gently snake around Grave as she presses her face into Grave’s shoulder as she gently shakes, clinging onto Grave in a way Hannah had never done before. This makes Grave’s smile get bigger, her feet beginning to tap gently on the floor as Hannah starts to calm down, her shaking decreasing and her hearing coming back to her as she relaxes into the hug, shuffling closer to Grave, who feels happy that she’s starting to feel better.

“Sorry for dragging you in here…” Hannah says in a small voice as she clings to Grave, felling well enough to speak again, though it’s slightly shaky.

“You didn’t drag me in here, silly… and its fine.” Grave reassures Hannah as she gently hugs her.

“Sorry for ignoring you…” Hannah apologises, sounding more genuinely upset than Grave had ever heard her, the façade of the normal, neutral Hannah completely off now.

“It’s understandable… I’m just glad you’re okay now…” Grave reassures, making Hannah feel a little better.

“I’m fucking tired though…” Hannah jokes, though she does sound it, her voice low and quiet.

“That’s also understandable, your day kinda s u c k e d.” Grave reasons.

“Little bit…” Hannah smiles slightly as she pulls away from Grave, wiping her face. “Okay, maybe a lot…” She admits, Grave nodding.

“Yeah… but at least its kinda better now, right?” She reasons, Hannah smiling again.

“Yeah, little bit…” She admits, though she still looks exhausted.

“Good! Do you uh… do you wanna leave? We can just say that you went to like the hospital or something.” Grave offers, Hannah sighing.

“Honestly, yeah, I’m not gonna get anything done anyway, and I could use some sleep I think…” Hannah admits, a small smirk on her face.

“F u c k y e a h, close them eyeballs and enter your free trial of no brain work-” Grave jokes, making Hannah laugh genuinely.

“You’re such a weirdo.” She comments in a lighter voice as she smiles.

“I know, but so are you. Just two weirdo’s sittin in a room of rest.” Grave replies in a similar jokey fashion, making Hannah grin gently as she allows Grave to help her up off of the floor. A quick call to Iden ensured he would pick up their bags after class, as well as Hannah’s laptop, so they could walk back to the twins home uninterrupted to get some rest and ignore their responsibilities for one day.

#writing with friends #writing #my writing #original writing #not my oc #others ocs #original characters #original story #teen au #alternate universe #tw trauma #tw panic attack #tw anxiety attack #sleepisafuckinglie #House of Hell

[standfortheangels]

Instructions: Always repost with the rules, answer the 11 random questions left for you, and leave 11 more for the people you tag!

Tagged by: @illicreatxm

This got long so I’m going to stick it under a read more ^^

1. If you could write any canon character, which would it be and why?

Hm. I’m not sure. I have roleplayed a couple of canons before, but I find it harder to keep the muse for them. I could probably do Elsa okay, I could jump between her locked in the castle personality and her open, welcoming character post-film, which might help, but the inconsistencies in her Over-powered Powers annoy me, so I think I’d add a few limitations in there.

2. Favourite Disney movie?

Maybe Aladdin because Robin Williams is of course amazing and so perfect in that role~ Ohh but there’s also Atlantis.. And Dumbo! Aw no... Let’s just call this my top three before I get carried away >w>

3. Least favourite MCU character?

I haven't seen the more recent ones, so, I can't take into account characters like Thanos or Dr. Strange or, whoever else they've been bringing in. So out of what I've seen, I'd have to go with Bruce Banner/The Hulk.

It seemed in the earlier films that they didn't give much attention to Banner. They were all over using the Hulk to make bits interesting, but Bruce was boiled down to "quiet smart guy who CaN TuRN inTo THE HULK" so, yeah.

And the hulk himself later did like a 180° change for me. In his stand-alone film I think Hulk says like 3 words, maximum. Then rarely talks in his appearances in the other avengers brand films. Cool. We had "Puny God" and that was a-okay. One short, memorable, funny quote seems perfect.

But then what was all that when Whedon got his hands on it? (I mean don't get me started on that, I am really reigning myself back here but) They start off needing ways to calm Hulk down enough to get him back inside and give control back to Bruce, fair enough. But then like... He winds up not letting go of Bruce's body even though he isn't enraged anyway? And suddenly he's emotional enough and smart enough to take- what was it a plane? And seperate himself off from everyone and look all solemnly at Natasha before he does it or something?

Obviously my memory of it isn't great, honestly I stopped paying attention after Natasha's "I'm a monster- not because I was raised in a heartless environment full of violence and raised to literally kill people, that bit's whatever- but because they took away my fertility and now I can't have babies." speech. And that's the last MCU film I watched. I didn't want anything to do with them after seeing what Joss Whedon did with the characters and the overarching plotline and... Everything. x') So I might have gotten some of the hulk stuff wrong.

(I did watch Deadpool though, that I enjoyed~)

4. If you had to create any new character, what occupation would they have?

Ooo good question.

I think something proactive, where they could seek other characters out, but.. I'd kinda like a bad guy~ Someone who lies so much for their job, they have a dual personality to work with. They can be your smiling friendly neighbour, wishing you well on your holiday, then turn around and grit his teeth because this poses a major problem for his mission, and he can't lose his target, so now he has to follow, but he can't do that as your happy neighbour, no, you know he isn't going on holiday, certainly not today, not on your flight, not to the same ski lodge you're going to. No, he has to make a new cover- maybe say his neice phoned him with a family emergency and he'll be leaving to go be with her a while. Then shed this identity, find out where his target is going, quickly pose as some other tourist who blends into the background and get to the lodge first, all the while planning out some plausible skiing accident he can set up.

Wow that got more detailed than I expected x'D I think I just reinvented hitman, whoops.

5. Favourite sport?

[Image ID: Kiki from Kiki’s Delivery Service, laughing hysterically.]

My biggest concern when I'm on my feet is not falling over so, obviously sports aren't really my deal. x')

I used to swim a lot when I was a kid, I loved that, but, don't do it now.

And I'm not really into watching sports either tbh. Most of it seems over-hyped. Most football teams (real football, it is not soccer. The hint is in actual football, the ball, is hit, with your feet. Picking it up and running with it and then sometimes kicking it does not qualify as football, come on USA. Your thing is closer to Rugby than Football.)

Anyway most teams aren't much better or worse than any other if you actually watch objectively, which makes it look like they both suck because they're too well matched to score goals more than once in a blue moon.

Rugby I don't really understand the appeal of either. Scrums are weird and it wouldn't be entirely bizarre to see a guy walking away from the game with blood down his face and an ear in his hand. You'd almost expect him to stick the ear on ice and be back in a few minutes with his bandages on.

Really the only sports than interest me are the gymnastic types. Ice skating is good for a while but it can start getting dull if you don't have people willing to break the mould a bit. (Which is why I absolutely love the free skate bit. Where they aren't being scored and they just do whatever the hell they want, omg I live for that)

Floor routines are awesome, the pommel horse and rings are usually a little samey for me but the one with those two bars at different heights, that's fun to watch~ there's a little more variety there.

(And I don't wanna hear anyone in the replies saying these aren't sports, every example there including figure skating is a separate event in the Olympics, so. There.)

6. What’s your dream car?

I don’t really have one. At this point in my life I don’t actually have the option to learn to drive so I haven’t really thought about it. My only criteria is, it has to have a nice face. x)

Since I was tiny I have always seen cars as faces. The headlights would be eyes, and usually the number plate would be the mouth, but some cars have other stuff like a grill that might be the mouth instead. So like...

This would be a grumpy car with a pig-like nose and frown.. Actually those look like jowels either side of the mouth part. It looks kind of like a bulldog. X’)

And this would be a happy car. That black part around the number plate it wide and smile-shaped, and the headlights- rounded on top and straighter on the bottom, like the little creases we get when we scrunch up our eyes laughing~

This car looks like someone just said something really stupid to it, and it is not impressed, and lets the silence hang not knowing what to say.

Happy car

Terminator car

Happy car but in a mean way.. Like it’s on its way to cause mayhem or poking fun at someone. You get the general idea -w-

7. A movie that you think should have a sequel?

Hmm... this is a toughie.

8. A movie sequel that you think should be deleted from existence?

I don’t remember which number it was or even the title, but the Shrek sequel where Shrek like, hates having kids so much he makes a deal to change time? And Fiona winds up as like a vicious warrior leader because no-one ever saved her from the tower, and rumplestiltskin is in it? What even was that...

9. Design your dream outfit using this game ?

I wouldn’t say this really is my dream outfit, but from the options on offer~

(also discounting the enormous hair bun >w>;)

10. Favourite fairytale?

I’m not sure if this actually counts as a fairytale, but I love the story of the jolly roger. That classic skull and crossbones flag has a story behind it that a lot of people don’t know.

In a nutshell, a man (i guess a pirate) develops an intense crush on a young woman, who is about to get married. But just before her wedding, she dies. She is buried, but the man doesn’t take death for an answer. He digs her up and has sex with her body. When he’s done, a disembodied voice speaks to him, telling him that he has basically impregnated this corpse, and to come back in nine months.

For some reason, he does. He digs up the woman again. And sat below her pelvis is a small skull and two bones. The disembodied voice tells him to take these bones with him on his ventures, and they will bring him luck.

It’s bizarre, and kinda gross, and.. I dunno if being rewarded for sexually desicrating a corpse is the best moral? x’) But I was amazed when I heard this story, because I’d had no idea there was this whole tale behind the flag~ and I still love that it exists~

11. Create an avatar of your favourite muse using this creator? ?

First, it’s so cruel to ask me to pick my favourite child how dare you >w> haha

I went with Chester though because he’s the one I’m usually most connected to.

I can’t think of anyone I want to tag right now (at least not anyone who hasn’t probably done this already), but I’ll put the new 11 questions for anyone who does feel like doing this~ :) __

1. What’s one thread/plot you really want to do that you haven’t had chance to yet?

2. What is the reason for, or meaning behind, your blog icon?

3. Do you have any pets? Tell us a bit about them!

4. What is one thing you would never want to change about your appearance?

5. There is an ultra secret spy group, and you’ve just uncovered their existence. Now they say that you must either work for them, or they’ll find a permanent way to keep you quiet. What kind of work would you offer to do for them?

6. If you met your muse in real life, how do you think the two of you would get along? (multi-muse blogs, pick one of your muses at random.)

7. You have been given a huge budget to remake one film in your own vision. You can change anything, add anything, choose the cast, you have no limits. What would you do?

8. What is one skill you wish you could automatically master?

9. A genie offers you a deal. An unlimited lifelong supply of one food of your choice... But, you have to sacrifice your ability to chew. Does any food still tempt you?

10. What do you think is the funniest animal?

11. Share one memory you have that makes you happy to think about~

#literally anyone can do this #and you can tag me in it too if you want #even if we've never interacted #I love reading posts like these #x) #ooc #long post #I loved the game questions on this btw! #I've never seen anyone include something like that before #it was fun! #illicreatxm

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S1 Ep 47: Man I wish this was episode 69 so I could just write “Dice.”

Lets see how our favorite Pharaoh is faring, starting up with a duel against this guy who was making a game, and then got hella distracted and ended up shoving five games into one game like he has game designer ADD.

Duke Devlin is the most sane person we’ve dueled but also the most obsessive human we’ve met, if that makes sense. Because I’m that type of person, here’s a little chart I made to explain what I mean.

(read more under the cut)

So, this is just how my brain has been cataloguing the people we’ve spent actual time with. I separate them first into “are they a guy or are they a god?” (Yugi and Ryou kind of being in a vague area in the middle, but I didn’t feel like making a third row for 2 people)

Then, my brain separates them into three categories

the psychopaths, AKA people who cannot let go of a grudge and so live in a near constant state of rage and/or a superiority/inferiority complex. Not necessarily a BAD person just...youknow...

the normies, AKA people who are kind of just there and for the most part hold it together really well.

and the "OOPS! I screwed it!?!” category AKA people who are generally harmless but, for reasons largely out of their control, have a trigger that will send them right off and into the obsessive-cray zone. They don’t want to derail the whole show/get abducted for the millionth time/have yet another complete melt down, it’s just that there was a huuuuge misunderstanding. They’re not really WANTING to murder anyone, it’s just...sometimes people are there at the wrong time and its just gonna happen and what do you do? They probably deserved it? They probably deserved it.

Now this isn’t a good to evil type of scaling, especially since in this show a lot of our characters are morally gray, but it is a bit of a scaling of “what type of far gone are they?” And off the top of my head here’s where I classify them.

Also, I’m in S1 so all of this will probably change. Joey isn’t like super Psychopathic or anything, it’s just that he acts a lot like Kaiba sometimes in how he gets pissed off and holds a grudge against people he barely knows so I feel like he crosses the line enough in my brain to lump them together. I’m on the fence about Bakura. He’s just sort of too random at the moment.

I realize now that I have Panic on here for some reason. I dunno why, I guess I really liked that guy.

And so, of our humans, Duke really freakin screwed it this episode. Like he was really far off the mark, but I don’t think he’s a psychopath or anything. He’s just some guy who screwed it. And Duke, because he’s kinda obsessive-cray is just diving all in on those dice. I mean, when you have a single dice dangle earring, you gotta commit all the way.

But in the meantime, Duke is still dragging Joey, and Pharaoh is still freakin pissed because youknow...that’s sort of his natural state.

My brother tells me this game is actually a very fun GBA game but it really doesn’t seem like my thing. Seems kind of like Megaman Battle Network, if that makes any sense? But with a Carcasonne aspect to it?

Anyway, last episode Joey just really wanted to get close to these girls, and this episode he gets his wish granted, only to realize that this school is about 85% bullies.

How is it playing a game your competitor has never heard of before and then purposely not telling him the rules NOT counted as cheating? Not like it mattered.

And so then we find out the reason that Duke Devlin is out to get Yugi--and it’s a humdinger.

That’s right, he’s a Pegasus apologist--and it’s like are you SURE there, Duke? Are you certain that this is the cliff you want to die on before you oops! duel an actual god?

I feel like you could just swim through all of the paperwork that is all of the evidence we’ve dug up on Pegasus, as if it were Scrooge McDuck moneypit amounts of evidence. That’s how much evidence we have. And yet, here we have a Pegasus apologist.

Duke was inventing this game on a computer--which makes you wonder why he made it into an actual board game since with all those moving dice parts, it would just be waaaaay better on a computer but...youknow. He emails Pegasus, as you do when you have a game idea, and for some reason, Pegasus actually responds.

You’d think that this dice game which operates entirely on RNG would actually be real effective against the psychic but...I guess the eyeball still made him win? Anyways, Duke is so enamored, he’s decided Pegasus is his new best friend, and just jumps into that helicopter thinking this will be the first day of the rest of his life and he couldn’t be more excited and that nothing could ever ruin it. Alas, look at this timing:

Apparently, after the tourney ended, Pegasus became unreachable...because I mean, he’s got a lot to digest after years of being possessed by a millennium item and killing a whole ton of people. (not to mention the staggering realization that, in this state, he painted his spooky dead wife like 400 times always in the same exact dress) After about...only 2 days or so of not being able to reach Pegasus, Duke decides “I know what I’ll do, I’ll clear Pegasus’ name by dragging his victims on national television! That always works!”

Pharaoh hears this story, unblinking, and is like “WTF”

Normally in kid’s programming, you have to tell some sort of moral, and there must always be some overwhelming positive reward for good behavior. But Yugioh doesn’t do that, they show that you can do good things, be a hero and save the day and that despite all that you will get dragged through the coals for it. That’s just life. you can’t ever be the hero without also being someone else’s curse.

So, it’s a play on a normal quest formula, where beating the villain usually means that you did it, the quest is over. The season is done. Everyone’s happy. But, there’s a pretty strong underlying theme in all of Yugioh, that beating a villain isn’t an “end”, it doesn’t actually solve the core problem if everyone else still acts and operates the same way as they did before. You have to unlearn being an asshole and damn, that’s a hard habit to break.

Like how Kaiba didn’t know how to solve his problems after Pharaoh wiped his mind, Duke doesn’t know how to solve this problem without Pegasus. Now that Pegasus is removed, Duke is reacting similar to Kaiba loosing half his brain (which was a hell ton of anger and lashing out).

So, even though Pharaoh decided he’s not gonna do that mind-wipe thing anymore, he’s still that power-reset force that no one asked for. Like Kaiba, Duke has to start his business model over from square one, and much like Kaiba was, he’s in complete denial and desperate to see what he wants to see.

And then, it’s been a while, how’s that splash screen action looking?

Ah. For once it’s not spooky. Did we even get a splash screen for Rebecca? Or like any of the digital arc? Hm. I don't’ remember. Feels like years ago.

Next week, on Yugioh:

Yugi’s normal jacket is just at the dry cleaners, right? Like Grandpa was like “listen, son, it’s growing moss, please let me sanitize this”

So did Bakura just take that eyeball and bounce or is he just busy doing makeup homework? Maybe he’s secretly intending to graduate.

Did anyone clear this with Grandpa or did he just turn on his TV just now and go “Oh Hell, Yugi.”

#yugioh #yugioh recap #photo recap #s1 ep 48 #wow only one more episode #and then this season is over #yugi muto #duke devlin #joey wheeler in a dog suit #tristan taylor #tea gardner #way too many dice

[shewhowantsmouseears]

The Son Of Scheherazade, 3

Notes: As always, big thanks to my fantastic editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted!

I promise I won't handwave everything with "its just magic", as tempting and easy as that would be. But first and foremost, this is Mickey's tale, so his character development stays in the spotlight! ... Until he has to share it with a lovely lady.

Summary: As the epic journey begins, Mickey begins to realize he wasn't as prepared as his fantasies told him. Meanwhile, Pete must pay a price for his failure.

It wasn't long before the entire kingdom learned that their benevolent rulers had vanished, and that their valiant prince would take on an epic quest to save them. Many offered their prayers to the gods for the family's safe return, yet some couldn't help but think how devastated the poor boy must be. Not only were his parents gone, but he would have to leave his home for the first time in his life. Surely, they imagined, he was holed up in his new room in tears.

“OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOOOSH!”

Simply put, Mickey wasn't in the mood for crying. He had arrived where Goofy's ship was docked, if one could say it had – outside of the castle, the crew had tied the anchor around one of the towers and there it floated, its sails flapping in the wind. It was as big as the palace itself, its shadow reaching out over the marketplace and causing many customers to stop, struggle to understand what they were seeing, and then faint. The figurehead was far larger than what most ships had – a faceless woman had her fingers locked in prayer, and her flowing hair lined the sides of the ship, each strand of wooden hair a different color. Each sail appeared to have been painted by the various crew members – the largest was a skull and crossbones with buck teeth, no doubt to resemble the captain.

“It's real!” Mickey was having a mild heart attack of sheer joy. “It's really real! The flying ship! The ship that defies the world! Sinbad the Sailor's ship!”

“Goofy the Pirate,” Goofy corrected him, and he had a feeling he'd have to do that several times while Mickey was with him. He didn't mind.

“How do you board it, if it can't come any closer to the ground?” Mickey asks, his little body trembling with excitement.

José lightly tugged on the anchor's rope with his umbrella. “All you have to do is climb and-” Mickey jumped onto the rope and frantically began to climb upwards. “...Excitable fellow, huh?”

“I like him!” Panchito declared, despite knowing Mickey for less than an hour. The rest of the crew began to climb up the rope with Goofy going last, untying the line. He whistled a merry tune as he returned to the ship, not entirely surprised to see Mickey running back and forth like a maniac.

“Oh my gosh, this is where you battled the dreaded ice yetis of the tundra!” Mickey declared as he found an area of the ship with frozen cracks forever left in the wood.

“Sure is,” Goofy said, heading for the wheel.

“And this is where you climbed to escape the man-eating praying mantis from the volcano islands!” Mickey climbed a foot up the mast, wanting to feel the scratches the bugs had left behind.

“Is this going to be an all-day thing?” Horace had to ask, and Clarabelle nudged him with her elbow.

“And this is where you declared yourself the supreme sailor of all the high seas and higher skies!” Mickey made this similar declaration now standing atop the steering wheel, and Goofy had to calmly pick him up and put him aside. It gave Mickey enough time to breathe and focus on the situation at hand. “...So you have no idea why my Ma said you're a sailor instead of a pirate?”

“I can't say I know her exact reasons,” Goofy offered as the group began to split up, doing their various assigned tasks. “But maybe she didn't want her boy idolizing a pirate. Might set a bad image.” The ship wasn't moving, and Goofy made no motion to steer the wheel. Instead he simply leaned against it, waiting.

Mickey supposed Goofy had a point – but then his eyes widened. “But that means...you're all a bunch of thieves! You steal from people, that makes you bad guys! … Doesn't it?”

Goofy waved his hand side-to-side. “'Thieves' is a dirty word.”

“Accurate, but dirty,” Horace quipped from a nearby room.

“We never steal from folks who can't afford it,” Goofy continued. “We only go after the really rich, those who ain't really affected by the end of the day. And it's not like we steal from every single place we go to. Otherwise, we wouldn't be able to travel, we'd be hunted down no matter where we went!”

“I... Well... hm.” Mickey scratched his head. This was a new kind of ethics, but then again, the butcher never went out of business any time Pluto snatched an extra sausage or two. But surely his mother wouldn't want Mickey to meet a bunch of bad guys – yet she'd clearly been hiding some pretty big secrets from him. All of this back and forth was making his head hurt. Right now he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the real story of how a thieving pirate met his heroic mother, if any of those descriptions were accurate. “I'm really confused.”

“If it helps, I'm confused most of the time!” Goofy said with such a big smile that it was hard not to be comforted. “No one starts out understanding everything. But whatever your mama was planning, she wanted you to be safe and sound no matter what. That's why she had me get that flying carpet.”

Mickey looked back up at his new friend with raised eyebrows. “How does that work, anyway? How can a carpet fly?”

“The long answer is that a long time ago during one of my millions of adventures, I met a magical weaver and saved his son from execution at the hands of a tyrannical emperor. Since then, he's owed me a favor. He puts part of his soul into everything he weaves, which gives the carpet the ability to fly. There was supposed to be a proper ceremony for it and everything so it would obey you, but since that got skipped, I think it just obeys itself.”

All right, now Mickey was really really confused. “What was the short answer?”

“It's magic.”

“Oh.” Hours ago Mickey was convinced magic didn't exist, and now apparently there was a whole reality where magic was just given an obvious shrug, like pointing out that wheels rolled because they were round. He was about to sit down and try to understand what a magic carpet ceremony even was, when the word “wheel” stuck in his head, as in the one Goofy wasn't moving. He looked at it, then to Goofy, back to the wheel, then back to Goofy. “...Well?”

“Well what?”

“When are you going to start sailing?”

“Can't sail without a map.”

“Yeah, but...” Mickey struggled to gesture towards the outside of the ship. “We can at least get moving!  Who knows how long my parents are going to be safe, if they're safe at all? We need to start the journey!”

“Can't sail without a map,” Goofy said again.

Mickey's limit for that day's utter nonsense was being met. “Look, am I going to have to start ordering you around again?! I know you do this a million times every week, but my parents aren't just some story! They need my help! The kingdom needs them to rule! Pete might be able to handle it for a couple of days, but he's got some bad ideas about how things should be run. We have to hurry!”

“Can't sail without-”

“WHY NOT?!” Mickey had grabbed fistfuls of Goofy's shirt and began vigorously shaking him back and forth. “MOVE THIS SHIP, MAP OR NO MAP!”

“I have the map!” Panchito cheerfully shouted, walking into the scene and taking no mind that their newest addition looked ready to strangle the captain. “Now we can get going towards Mawarid!” He then rolled out the thin yellowing map onto the ship's wheel – the map and the wheel began to glow a glittering yellow, and all of the sails suddenly billowed, expanding and pushing forward. The ship began to move, despite the wind having died down moments ago.

Mickey blinked slowly before glancing at Goofy. “...The ship literally can't move without a map?”

“It's what I said.”

“... And the short answer why is...?”

“Magic.”

It began to dawn on Mickey that his epic journey wasn't going to be as much fun as he had been imagining moments earlier. He had wanted to start his eighteenth year of life with logic and straight-forward-thinking, and now he was aboard a flying ship with a crew of loonies. Now that he thought about it further, he hadn't packed anything either – not even his mother's lamp to read by. Thinking about his mother brought back all those earlier problems and a headache began to form. “I have no idea what I'm doing,” he said to no one.

“Let me see if I can help, amigo.” Panchito slapped his arm around Mickey's shoulders. “The ship is magic, but still sails as slow as one on water. So it will take us a day or two to get to Mawarid!”

“Mawarid...” Mickey felt his cheeks go red in humiliation. A city that close and Mickey knew nothing about it. Maybe he really was going to be a burden to the crew after all. “Why are we going there?”

“To stock up on supplies,” Goofy answered – now his hands were on the wheel, just to make sure any winds wouldn't set them off course. “We dunno how long this journey will take, plus we got a new crew member to take care of. Then we hit the kingdom of Taqs!”

“Specifically, we're going to rob it,” Panchito pointed out. “To make up for all the money we use in Mawarid.”

“After that, we'll head for the little town of Maelumat. I know a lady there that might be able to give us some clues where to look for your parents. When it comes to gossip around the world, she can't be beat,” Goofy said with a smile, remembering her fondly.

It sounded like a solid plan, and Mickey had to admit that for a bunch of weirdos, they were well-prepared weirdos. In a way, it did make sense – if they had a thousand and one adventures, they should have some idea of what they were doing. So where did Mickey fit in? What could he possibly do to help them? The depression that followed him throughout the kingdom began to creep back into his heart. Maybe he should've stayed behind to take care of the kingdom.

“So about tonight!” Panchito's vibrant voice cut through Mickey's self-loathing. “I know you probably want to keep it a secret, but I was wondering if I could get a hint about tonight's story?”

Mickey blinked three times in a row, trying to comprehend what was being asked of him. “Huh? Whaddya mean?”

“You're going to tell us some epic, amazing story, aren't you?” Panchito asked hopefully. “You are the Son of Scheherazade, after all! Surely you have her gift for captivating tales! We all can't wait to hear what you tell us later!”

“I, uh... I don't...” Mickey didn't want to give Panchito a reason to boot him off the ship, but Mickey had never been the creative sort. It might've been better to say that Mickey never bothered to see if he was. After all, when you had a famous storyteller for a mother, it wasn't as if you could ever top her tales. Thus, Mickey had never even made an attempt, thinking his own storytelling abilities were inferior right from the get-go. He was inferior. He shouldn't have come aboard, he shouldn't have tried to become something he wasn't, he-

“Say, Panchito,” Goofy interrupted. “That spare room we have above the kitchen, that ought to do for a sleeping space for Mickey here, huh?”

The rooster was successfully distracted. “A brilliant idea, mi capitán! I'll go make sure it's in tip-top shape!” He sped off like a bullet, doors slamming behind him.

Mickey rubbed one arm, unsure if he should thank Goofy, more unsure that Goofy did it on purpose. Goofy clicked his tongue. “You remember what I asked you to do when you said you wanted to join?”

“Huh?” Mickey raised his head and tried to remember. “Oh, um, the crow's nest?”

“Yup. Why don't you go up there and get started? Just needs a bit of touch up, is all.”

Mickey wasn't sure how to “touch up” a crow's nest, but by now he was far too embarrassed to ask. He didn't want to emphasize his worthlessness. “O-Okay,” he mumbled, and walked over to the intimidating mast. After taking a deep breath, he began to climb the small steps, trying to tell himself the view wouldn't be much different than the view from his room. When he reached the nest, it was indeed a little dirty, with mostly leftover food left behind and some messy rags sitting on the floor. The nest had a raised seat all around the pole, so you could lean back and watch the world pass you by.

The view wasn't like Mickey's bedroom at all.

Mickey gasped – the kingdom was further away, and he could see the vast desert that lay beyond the walls. It shone like gold dust in the sunlight, and he thought he could spy a group of bold travelers atop their furry camels. The sky was brilliantly blue, with light clouds shifting into funny faces as the ship sailed on. Mountains of stone lined the distance, casting their shadows over deep dunes. But what struck Mickey the most was the horizon and how far away it was – as if it was endless, infinite, that it could stretch on forever and no one would ever see where it began and finished. This was the world. It was so much bigger than the kingdom, so much bigger than what his mind could fathom.

Mickey gripped the edge of the nest. If the world was endless, so were the possibilities that lay ahead. Maybe out there, he'd find a special talent that only he could bring to the ship. Maybe he'd find a way to earn the praise and accolades heaped upon him, and be more than the son of Scheherazade. Maybe he could find someone who would want to be with him for him, and not for where and who he came from. Maybe none of those things would happen – but maybe was a powerful world. It gave him hope.

For a moment, Mickey wondered if that was the reason Goofy had sent him up there in the first place. It was difficult to say – was Goofy dumb, clever, or was it possible to be both at the same time? There were hundreds of questions to ask each member of this silly ship, but for now, Mickey decided they could wait. He wanted to watch the horizon and all the chances it could bring.

Down below, Goofy resumed humming. Not every moment of his life was filled with monsters and mayhem, and truth be told, it was these quiet moments that he treasured more than treasure.

“Oh, the world owes me a livin'...”

~*~

That night, Pete headed for his room, despite having full rights to the Sultan's room. He had been looking forward to the day where he could rest his heavy body onto all those pillows. Tonight, however, he doubted he would get much sleep. He grabbed the tallest scepter he could find from the Sultan's room before approaching his bedroom, gulping audibly as he glanced inside at the chest that was spewing black smoke. He was in trouble.

“Easy...” Pete inched into the room, slowly sliding out the scepter towards the chest. He had the jeweled top lightly poke the top, and slowly began to lift it. “Easy, easy, easy... Oookay, so, there was a teeny, tiny, itty bitty change to the plan...”

“I TOLD YOU TO CAPTURE ALL THREE OF THEM, YOU COLOSSAL FOOL!” The top of the chest slammed open, and a swirling torrent of shadows escaped, surrounding Pete in darkness. The shadows spun around and around, knocking over his bed and shattering his windows, the roar of the mysterious voice getting louder by the second. “MY PLAN ISN'T COMPLETE WITHOUT ALL THREE! WHERE IS THE BOY?!”

Pete swallowed down the urge to cry for his mommy, backing up as far as he could. “L-Look, how was I supposed to know the Sultana would have access to a flying carpet? I didn't even know they were a real thing until I saw one!” In hindsight, working for a magical evil being probably should have clued him in that there were a lot of things that didn't only exist in stories. “Can't the plan go on even with just those two? You've got the Sultan, just threaten him, and Scheherazade will do what you want!”

“DON'T SPEAK AS IF YOU KNOW BETTER THAN I!” The shadows slammed down onto the floor, sending an earthquake hard enough to make Pete fall onto his stomach. “The Sultan is more than willing to sacrifice his life it means helping his wife... but threatening the life of their child will be far more effective! WHERE! IS! THE! BOY!”

Pete managed to sit up on his knees, breathing slowly though his teeth. There was no way he could deliver this without further angering his master, so it would be best just to get it over with. “Well... you know that Sinbad guy Scheherazade has a thousand and one stories about? Turns out, he's real. And the boy went with him to rescue his parents. So he's long gone by now.” He then closed his eyes, waiting for further punishment. And waited. And waited. And...

Pete opened one eye. The shadows hadn't left, but they weren't actively trying to hurt him anymore either. Maybe the dark master was so in shock he couldn't do anything. Pete, never one to know when to take his luck and run, began to inch towards the chest. “Sir?” he asked, and got no response. “You know, I gotta say, you're handling this really well!” He then stuck his head over the shadowy chest. “I mean, if I were you, I would've showed no mercy, but I guess you-”

That was when a pair of ink-black hands thrust themselves out of the chest and snatched Pete by the shoulders. Pete screamed as he was suddenly yanked into the chest, and the lid slammed shut, with the shadows evaporating into mist.

In the morning, the servants were curious that Pete hadn't arrived for breakfast. When they entered his room, there was no trace of him, but the room had been trashed. As they panicked and tried to figure out who would rule over the kingdom, none of them noticed the locked chest tucked away in the corner.

~*~

It took two days to reach Mawarid, and during that time Mickey avoided the rest of the crew as much as possible. He wanted to know their past and their stories, how they all knew one another and learned their amazing abilities, but he feared that once he asked, they'd ask about him in turn – and he had nothing fantastic to boast of. It was an odd battle of his curiosity versus his self-loathing, and on the day they “landed” at the town, curiosity was starting to win. Goofy had gone down to tie the anchor to a sturdy building, and Clarabelle handed out lists of supplies to the crew.

“Everyone, stick to your list!” she announced while tapping her own paper with one finger. “Don't go overboard, and make sure to get everything on it! Return to the ship before sundown, and if all goes well, we should be ready to leave by mid-afternoon tomorrow.” She pointed to the birds. “Panchito, José, you're team one!”

The birds saluted. “Understood! I'll keep José from flirting too much!”

“We'll be back before Panchito can finish his next lyric!”

Clarabelle then gestured towards her husband. “Horace, I want you and Goofy to go with the son of Scheherazade! You'll be team two. Teach him the ropes!”

Mickey was insulted by one thing more than the other, and he raised his hand. “I know I never got out much, but even I know how to shop!”

“There's shopping,” Horace explained with finger guns, “And then there's bargain-hunting! I'll teach you how to sweet-talk the shopkeepers, and find the best deals for the best meals! When it comes being a cheapskate, no one can beat me.”

“Pluto and I will be team three,” Clarabelle finished, a thumb to her chest. “We'll guard the ship!” Mickey raised his hand again and Clarabelle answered the obvious question. “Yes, people will still try to attack a ship that's up in the air.” Mickey lowered his hand. “All right, you've got your assignments! Remember what I said – before sundown! Off you go!”

Mickey scratched Pluto's ear, wishing him well before tucking the list into his pants pocket and starting his climb downwards with the others. As they headed down, Mickey looked down at Horace, his curiosity winning one victory. “Say, uh, Horace? Mind if I ask you... how come you and Clarabelle are pirates with Goofy?”

“Oh, we're on our own epic quest, going back...” A pause for recollection. “Three years now? Three years sounds right. We're trying to find our martial-arts-master! See, when we were young, she and I both attended the best martial-arts dojo in the east. There lived a man who had the most powerful techniques in the whole wide world, and he was looking for apprentices to pass down his teachings. I learned all his hand-to-hand moves, and Clarabelle learned all his foot-to-foot moves.”

Mickey recalled the fight days ago, and yes, Horace had only fought with his fists, and Clarabelle had only used her legs. “...Wouldn't you be more powerful if you learned all the moves?”

“We were gunna, but our master disappeared.” Horace didn't seem terribly bothered by this, helping Mickey down once they reached the ground. “Since then, we've been trying to find him. We joined up with Goofy to better our chances.” Another pause, this time out of annoyance. “Well, I joined to better our chances of finding our master. Clarabelle wanted to better her chances of marrying Goofy.”

Mickey jumped, and now that they were below, he stared at Goofy for confirmation. Goofy merely shrugged, and the birds had long since left to do their own tasks. “But isn't she married to you, Horace?”

“She is now.” Horace started to walk, and the two followed. “But boy, it was hard winning her over! Stubborn as a mule, that one. But I never gave up! True love never lets you give up. Now our bond is stronger than ever, and nothing could ever tear the two of us apart!”

“... But you guys fight constantly.”

“We like fighting.” Horace grinned. “Ain't nobody that argues better than my Clarabelle! She's the only one who can match me when it comes to stubbornness! We'd never be able to put up with someone that couldn't handle us! Besides, love is different for everyone. Some people don't even recognize it when they feel it. But once you do, your life changes forever!”

Mickey almost gagged. One thing he didn't miss about his parent was the constant lovey-dovey affection between them, and he sincerely hoped it wouldn't be replicated on the ship. Oh, the key to his heart, oh, the wind in her sails, - ugh! “I'll just take your word on that. I'm not exactly looking for mushiness.”

Horace chuckled, smoothing out his list. “That might be for the best for now! Save the romance until after we find your parents.” He then read the list over, nodding once to himself. “First on the list, we're going to need two pounds of lemons.” Mickey began to wonder if he could make any additions to the list, like a lamp for his room, and he was about to ask when Horace spoke up once more. “Goofy, we should probably head right for the south market, they tend to have the best prices when it comes to-”

Goofy suddenly began running towards a gathered crowd up in the north.

Mickey blinked. “What's he doing?”

Horace groaned. “Nothing good, I promise you that.”

As the duo raced to join Goofy, they could see what everyone was facing – a hand-made stage had been constructed, five feet above the ground, and it was lined with fancy rugs and empty barrels. A tall rat in robes that were three sizes too long for him was standing there, shuffling a deck of purple cards. He smirked with gigantic teeth that went over his lips, and his snout was so large it cast its own shadow. His red and green cloth was made of the finest quality, Mickey could tell, and no doubt it had cost thousands. The rat then stopped shuffling, and held up a single card. “Is this your card?”

An old man at the front of the crowd frowned, shaking his bald head. “No, sir, it isn't.”

“Oh, what a shame,” the rat said with pretend melancholy, tossing his card over his shoulder. “Maybe it's somewhere else... I wish it was in your shoe!”

The old man squinted, then jerked – he lifted up his foot and pulled off his shoe. He reached inside and took out a card, and the crowd gasped. “This is my card!” Applause waved through the crowd, and Goofy clapped just as enthusiastically.

“Another marvel from Mortimer the Magnificent!” the rat declared for himself, taking a large bow before heading to one of the empty barrels. “Now, for my next trick...you can all see here, nothing inside, right?” He closed the barrel, and waved his hands. “... I wish...” He hesitated, eyes going back and forth, as if trying to decide. “I wish there was a...spotted...pink...monkey! Yeah, that'll do.” He then lifted the barrel's lid and reached inside – and he pulled out a spotted pink monkey, the little creature screeching in confusion. The audience roared with amazement, throwing small coins at the bottom of the stage.

“It's a magic show!” Goofy cheered, hopping up and down. “Can we stay and watch it, can we, can we, huh?”

Mickey balked. “A magic – Goofy, you fly on a magic ship! You've had a thousand and one magical adventures! How can some street tricks impress you?”

Goofy tilted his head, unable to comprehend, and Horace rubbed his temples. “Goofy, we don't have time for this! Clarabelle will have our heads if we're not back before sundown!”

“This probably isn't real magic anyway.” Mickey crossed his arms, watching Mortimer wishing to turn a carpet from silk to spiderwebs. “I bet it's all smoke and mirrors! If he had actual working magic like the ship, he wouldn't be wasting it on small coins! He could get himself whatever he wanted. Why would a real user of magic stick around in a small town?”

Horace raised his eyebrows. “That's awful clever of you, Mickey.”

“But it's fun!” Goofy insisted, eyes sticking to the stage, keeping his voice down so he wouldn't disturb the performance. “The best part about magic is the surprise, and surprises are what magic shows are all about!”

Mortimer drew himself up, backing away on the stage. “You know, I'm starting to think I don't have everyone's attention.” He grinned lasciviously, rubbing his fingers together. “So what's say we get a little eye candy to help me with the rest of the show?”

“I mean it, Goofy!” Mickey put his hands on his hips, not bothering to keep his own voice down. “We have to get supplies for the ship, and help save my parents! There is absolutely nothing that guy can do that would make me want to watch his show!”

“I wish...” Mortimer rolled his arms. “...for my beautiful assistant to appear!”

There was a burst of pink smoke on the stage right next to Mortimer, and a small flurry of glitter followed it, and various members of the audience “oohed” and “ahhed”. A small figure began to walk out of the smoke, and in that second, Mickey found something that made him want to watch the show.

“As you command, it has happened, my master!”

There in the dissipating pink smoke was a young woman with the most darling, beautiful blue eyes Mickey had not thought could ever exist. Her gorgeous dark fur was as dark as the softest night, and her smile illuminated her peachy cheeks. Her thin green dress left little to the imagination, similar to dancing girls Mickey had occasionally seen on the seedier streets of his kingdom. Golden rings lined up on her fingers, all of them attached to her dress so that when she waved, her dress would wave with her. Everything about her was tiny and delicate, like one wrong touch would soil her completely. Even her voice was perfection, a melodious harmony that sang sweeter than nightingales with every word. “Can we give my master another hand for his amazing performance?”

In this moment Mickey forgot about his anger, his parents, and essentially everything that existed that was not this gorgeous girl with long lashes and petite hands. It was like magic – he would have never believed someone like this could exist unless he saw it for himself. He stared and stared and stared, afraid that if he blinked she'd suddenly vanish and she'd have been nothing more than an elaborate fantasy. He didn't know what to do with himself or this sudden rush of inexplicable joy dancing throughout his head.

Unbeknownst to him, the world was in fact still moving on regardless of how he felt. Horace had even continued talking while the girl was asking people to clap. “...So it's just like the kid said, we don't have a moment to lose. Let's go!”

“We can't go!” Mickey suddenly sputtered, jerking his head to flail at a startled Horace. “We-we have to stay! We should stay!”

Thrown off, Horace, scratched his head. “What? Seconds ago you were insisting we had to get going! Why do you wanna stay all of a sudden?”

“This, uh... it could, you know...” Mickey kept looking back to the girl, not wanting to miss a second of her movements. “Might be vital to... my parents, or something...” He wasn't even able to make coherent sentence structure at this point and he did not care.

Horace, he who considered himself the most sane person aboard the ship, glanced at Minnie, then at Mickey's ever reddening face. “...Fine time for you to start looking for mushiness.”

“What? No! No, I'm not!” Mickey insisted and oh goodness she was talking and even her voice was cute and she was so so so so cute and he was losing the feeling in his knees. This was normal! This was perfectly normal! Sure it was! Just because he wanted to smell her hair and hold her hands and call her the key to his lock didn't mean -

… The key to his – oh dang it!

#disney #fanfic #the son of scheherazade #mickey mouse

[maternalcube]

hey i really like your voltron superhero au on ao3!! i just finished the last story and will we ever get to know what happened to shiro on that "sabbatical" of his and his battle with the emperor?

thanks! the short answer is that shiro… doesnt remember much. the long answer is as follows. :D

There are a few moments of clarity in the hell Shiro lives, but not many.

Those moments stick in his mind when the rest of his experience is a clouded haze. People in colorful costumes, chained in a row in a damp, dark warehouse; a man in blue on a rooftop, who meets his eyes, face stricken with terror; standing at attention with the other bodyguards while The Witch advises The Emperor in front of them. Begging the department head at the college for a medical leave, early on.

He knows he was given a year off, somehow. He can’t quite register the passage of time, but that was summer and now it’s winter, so it’s been months, at least.

He rarely has the presence of mind to worry about that.

The next time he starts to surface, though, he’s aware of it, which is already more than usual.

“You with me yet?” a voice rasps through the thinning haze, before he has quite registered his surroundings. It comes from a man he’s pinning to the wall by the throat.

He steps back quickly and the man slides to the ground, rubbing his throat. Shiro blinks a couple times, shaking his head to try to clear the last of the fog.

“Nng,” is the first thing he manages to say. “What…?”

“Easy,” the man coughs. “He really had his claws in deep.”

The cadence and tone of the voice is familiar, despite the rasp. Shiro squints at him; his hair is longer than when they were in college together, and his face is in shadow, but…

“Matt?” he asks.

Matt looks up and gives him a haggard grin. “The one and only.”

“What… how?” Shiro looks around; they’re in a makeshift cell in the warehouse. The Emperor’s headquarters. It’s quiet, right now, but he can’t quite remember who’s here or out…

“I’m guessing you’re not here by choice,” Matt groans, dragging himself back up to standing. “Obviously I’m not, either. I don’t know how you got yourself into this mess, though.”

Shiro rubs his forehead. “I don’t understand.”

“You’re The Emperor’s right-hand man, buddy. Feared throughout the city. Outside it, too.”

“I…” That can’t be right, can it? He’s vaguely aware he’s a bodyguard, and he knows he’s under The Emperor’s control. He doesn’t remember doing anything more than standing around, though. He rubs his forehead again. “How did we get here? Now?”

“Oh, I got caught doing reconnaissance and got dragged in here. You were guarding me so I goaded you into getting closer so I could–” He snaps his fingers. “Snap you out of it.”

“Sorry…. about that…. How…?”

“I’m a super too. Usually a pretty useless one, though. No fireworks.” Matt puts his hands on his hips. “Anyway, the primary goal here is getting me out, but stealing you away would be a big blow. You in?”

It still takes a moment for Shiro to process that. “You… want to escape.”

“No, I want to rot in a corner of an abandoned warehouse forever.” Matt gives him a look.

“Okay,” Shiro says slowly. “Okay.” He turns and looks out of the cell; the cavernous space beyond is mostly in shadow, and the light that seeps in through the cracks is orange. Evening, maybe.

There’s no telling who could be watching them.

“Do you have a plan?” he asks.

“Do you know your way around?” Matt returns.

Shiro squints into the darkness. “Maybe? It’s all pretty fuzzy.” With any luck he’ll have… muscle memory, or something subconscious, to guide him in the right direction.

“Well, I’m hoping that if you lead me like I’m still a prisoner and you’re taking me somewhere, we’ll be able to just walk right out.”

Shiro can’t help but make a face as he turns back to Matt. “You… really think that’ll work?”

“Well we gotta try something, and the big bads aren’t here, so it’s now or never.” Matt steps up beside him and folds his hands behind his back. “Here.”

Shiro takes a deep breath and gently grips Matt’s wrists. “Alright. Let’s go.”

They walk out of the cell, footsteps echoing on the concrete. A distant pair of glowing yellow eyes follows their progress from the shadows, but no one stops them on their way to the door. He has no trouble finding the way, but then, there’s not much here to navigate.

And then Shiro shoves his shoulder into the door to open it and standing on the other side are two figures, silhouetted by the setting sun.

“Hm,” says The Emperor, and he lifts a hand.

When next Shiro comes to, he’s being restrained–held down against the floor, in fact, the taste of blood and dirt in his mouth and a sharp pain across his face. There’s muted shouting, roaring, the crack and rumble and hair-raising fizz of a battle between supers nearby. A hand lifts from his cheek.

“He’s coming to now.” Matt’s voice sounds distant.

“Are you sure?” This voice Shiro doesn’t recognize, but it can only come from the man sitting on his back right now.

“Yeah, look at his eyes. Shiro?”

Shiro groans.

“Well, he’s responsive. Let him up.”

The pressure lifts, but Shiro doesn’t move right away. His senses still feel muffled and he aches all over; soon, though, the crackling atmosphere of the nearby battle forces him up to his hands and knees.

“You can go help, Ulaz, I’ll stay with him,” Matt says. Ulaz doesn’t respond aloud but Shiro hears him get up and jog away.

Shiro rolls over to sit properly, and then he can see the rest of the warehouse.

The whole place is lit up from the glow of The Witch’s powers and the flash of various others. There’s a lot of people he doesn’t recognize, a lot of bodyguards he only kind of does; The Emperor and The Witch are in the thick of it, fighting back whatever force came for them–and winning, it seems, though not by much. Then Matt waves a hand in his face.

“Stay with me, buddy,” he says. “I don’t have the energy to keep dragging you back out of there.”

Shiro turns to look at him, to ask for context, and does a double-take. Matt’s face and hands are absolutely covered in scrapes and developing bruises, and his shirt is torn–one cheek is red and puffy, probably soon to develop into a black eye. His hands are smeared with blood.

“What happened?” Shiro breathes.

Matt gives him a small, sad smile. “You should see the other guy,” he says.

Shiro blinks at him. He doesn’t remember, but he’s got an unsettling feeling the “other guy” is himself.

He looks back to the battle, mindlessly wiping at the dirt on his face with the back of his hand, only to find blood instead. He stares at it a moment before Matt gently pushes his hand back down.

“This superhero group infiltrated this place,” Matt finally explains. “They’re trying to take The Emperor down. You’re still gonna be susceptible to his control, though, so we should get going while they’re distracted.”

“…We didn’t escape.”

Matt snorts. “Nope.”

“How long has it been?”

“Dunno. An hour, maybe.”

Their attempt must’ve kicked this off, then, Shiro realizes. Apparently to its detriment–there are a few prone forms strewn about the warehouse floor and none of them are in the black and red and purple that The Emperor favors.

“We should help,” he says.

“No. No way.” Matt grabs his chin and turns his face so Shiro has to look at him. “I’m in no shape to fight and neither are you. I can’t fight. You go in there, he’ll just pull you under again, and I’m not keen on giving him more help.”

Shiro grimaces, then winces as it pulls at whatever injury is on his face. “But…”

“No. Trust me.” Matt grips his wrist. “You trust me, right? It’s been a while since college but we’re still friends, right?”

Shiro looks at his face, determined beneath the dirt, and relents. “Yeah, we’re friends. I trust you.”

“Okay, so, if The Emperor gets anywhere near you, don’t listen to him, don’t even look at him, just punch him as hard as you can and run. Got it?”

“Punch him and run. Got it.” The haze is mostly gone but Shiro isn’t sure he can trust himself right now–so trusting Matt will have to do.

Matt gets up, and tugs at Shiro; he stands, too, albeit a little shakily. And then they’re off, heading toward the door again, albeit with a much different kind of caution.

Matt takes the lead at a jog; they keep to the shadows as much as possible but the fight casts light into every corner. If they can’t go unnoticed, then maybe they simply won’t be worth the trouble, or so Shiro hopes. He keeps half an eye on the fight beside them as they skirt the wall.

There’s a screech, and someone comes flying toward them, hitting the wall just ahead. Shiro hesitates so Matt grabs his sleeves and pulls him on, hopping over the super’s legs as she groans.

“Keep moving!” he hisses. Shiro spares the fallen woman a glance, and then follows Matt, though something drops in his gut. Like he’s betraying himself.

“Almost there,” Matt mutters, and Shiro looks aside to the battle again.

The Emperor, far across the room, still in the middle of battle, meets his eye.

Shiro snaps his gaze away, throat tight. He pushes forward and almost trips up Matt on the way.

“He saw me,” he pants.

“Shit,” Matt says, and they start running. There’s a whoosh and a crackling, and then a boom that rattles Shiro’s very bones and seems to shake the ground beneath their very feet, sending them both toppling.

When Shiro scrambles back up to his feet, The Emperor is there. He lifts a hand.

“Kill the prisoner,” he says.

Champion turns to kill the prisoner. Reaches down. Lifts him up by the throat.

“Shiro,” the prisoner wheezes. “Friends… remember?”

The prisoner is his friend? The prisoner is his friend. There’s something he’s supposed to remember. Something he’s supposed to do.

The prisoner bumps his fist against Champion’s–Shiro’s–forearm. It’s not nearly hard enough to even bruise. The prisoner whistles as he breathes.

Fist. Punch.

Punch him and run, that was it.

Shiro drops the prisoner, turns, and punches The Emperor in the face.

Something in his mind suddenly goes slack.

Shiro comes to to find blood on his fist, The Emperor and Matt both crumpled at his feet, and only the vaguest memory of how he got here. He unclenches his hand, looking at his bloodied knuckles, and he can’t tell if it’s easier to breathe now or just the opposite.

The Emperor isn’t moving.

Matt, however, is gasping for breath as he stumbles back up to his feet. He steadies himself with a hand on Shiro’s elbow and points to the fray.

“Look,” he says.

Shiro looks. The fray doesn’t really qualify as such anymore–many of the combatants have frozen, looking down or around in confusion. The rest, those in brighter colors, are converging on the main source of light in the warehouse right now.

The Witch wails, and it turns into a shriek.

“We’re going now,” Matt says, and then Shiro is being pulled into a run again with only the faintest inkling starting to penetrate his mind that he just killed The Emperor.

They burst out into the cold, snowy air, and Shiro breathes in like he’s never breathed before.

“It’s over,” he gasps, because it hits him: he’s free.

“No it isn’t,” Matt says, though, and keeps pulling him along the snowy wharf, back to solid ground. “The Witch is still in there, and she’s pissed.”

“But The Emperor is dead,” Shiro hears himself say.

“Yeah.” Matt snorts. “You punched his face in. He’s dead.”

“He’s dead,” Shiro repeats.

“Okay, you’re definitely in shock. Remember to breathe, Shiro, but we gotta get out of here.”

Shiro breathes.

He knows when the ambulances show up, along with the special police unit. It’s hazy but it’s a different kind of haze. Temporary. He hears Matt explaining what happened, and someone wraps him in a shock blanket and then he’s bundled into an ambulance.

The Emperor is dead.

Shiro turns to Matt, who’s tucked onto the bench next to him in a matching blanket.

“He’s dead?” he asks once more, just to be sure. Someone murmurs nearby but he focuses on Matt. Matt is his friend, and he can trust him.

“Yeah, Shiro,” Matt says tiredly. “He’s definitely dead.”

In the end, it turns out that Shiro can’t be held accountable for the things he did under mind control. Nor does anyone seem keen on punishing him for killing The Emperor.

So, after three days in the hospital for minor injuries and probably-rather-less-minor trauma, he’s sent back out into the world a free man.

It’s a little strange.

He gets back to his apartment–which is still his, and he sends a fervent thank you to whatever god might be listening for automated payments–to find it dusty but untouched. His blinking answering machine is the only movement, the only light but for the gray daylight peeking through the blinds.

Ugh, he has to clean now.

No sooner does the thought cross his mind than there’s a knock at the door. He reaches for the doorknob… and then thinks better of it, and peers through the peephole instead.

Matt’s on the other side. He opens the door.

“Recovering well, I see,” Matt says, before pushing into the apartment. Shiro fingers the bandage over his nose–that, and his newly-white bangs, are going to be with him forever. Permanent reminders of what he’s done.

“I only just got back,” says Shiro instead, gesturing at the dust. “I still need to clean up.”

“I’ll help,” Matt offers immediately, and lifts the plastic bag in his hand. “Also, I brought you food. Figured you probably haven’t restocked your fridge yet.”

Shiro glances with horror towards his kitchen. He’s a little afraid to find out what state said fridge is in, untouched for six months.

“I appreciate that,” he says faintly, and Matt laughs.

They eat, and then they get to work. With the blinds open and Matt for company, the apartment feels a lot brighter.

“So,” Matt says at one point. “Are you gonna be a hero now?”

“No. Not for a while, anyway,” Shiro amends quickly, as he sweeps the kitchen. “Maybe someday. But I need a break, first.”

Matt snorts. “You can say that again. I’m straight up retiring. Never much into the superhero thing anyway.”

“Why were you poking around there, anyway? You never did explain,” Shiro points out.

“Oh, my little sister and her friend have this dossier project.” Matt waves a hand and stands on tiptoe to dust a high shelf. “I thought I’d poke around a bit, see if I could find something interesting for them. I had no idea what was in that warehouse beforehand.”

Shiro stops sweeping. “You stumbled across… us… by accident.”

Matt smirks over his shoulder. “Yeah, my luck hasn’t gotten any better since graduation.”

Shiro shakes his head, but he smiles too. It almost feels unfamiliar–he certainly hasn’t had cause to smile in a while.

Hopefully, that will change soon. No–it will. He’ll go back to teaching, hang out with Matt and their friends, start doing the things he enjoys again. He’s not going to let what’s happened drag him down forever.

And mindset is the first step.

“Maybe your luck has changed,” he says after a moment. “After all, we’re here now, and The Emperor isn’t.”

Matt grins. “That’s the spirit.”

#this is so much longer than intended #im gonna go put it up on ao3 for easier reading so keep an eye out for that :o #superhero au #my fic #voltron #Anonymous

[punkscowardschampions]

Ali & Ro

Ali: Soooooo Ali: How'd your date go? Ro: I'm not sure who you meant to send this too, but perhaps try again? Ro: You can't mean me Ali: Coy, that's how you're playing it, I see Ali: Solid choice 😉 Ali: You and Drew musta been agonising over coffee options then Ro: What are you talking about, Ali? Ro: It was just a coffee stop for everyone, rehearsal fuel Ro: You know full well I've never been on a date Ali: I know full well that was just a ploy for some alone time with you Ali: and not yet but it is so clearly on the cards! Ali: I'd start dropping hints now, otherwise who knows where you'll end up Ro: Don't be ridiculous? Drew isn't remotely interested in me like that Ro: Why would he be? He has his pick of girls at school, and beyond the gates, too I'm sure Ali: Because you're you and he should be so lucky Ali: A bombshell with brains to boot Ali: Yeah, he's got a rep but he's being uncharacteristically sweet with you so, taking him at face value Ali: Anyway Ali: What do YOU think of him? More importantly Ro: Oh no no, this isn't a transformation story whereby I take off my glasses or get my braces taken off finally and am suddenly considered good enough for the protagonist Ro: Besides, I'm not even smart, just a hard worker Ro: Most importantly, he's always sweet with Meena so it's hardly uncharacteristic Ro: Other than knowing him as her kind older brother and Caleb's friend I really don't, know him that is Ali: Oh hush ignoring the fact that art is always a poor imitation of life and not the other way 'round Ali: He's love interest #1 at best, potential to be more if he sticks to his lines Ali: You're the loveable protagonist, silly Ali: Hmpf, fine. Would you like to know him better then? Ro: Of course, like I said, he's kind and sweet and Caleb's proven himself to be a good judge of character Ro: I just fail to see why he'd be interested in getting to know me, beyond being civil to me for the aforementioned reasons of mutual connections with important people Ro: He's Drew Goldsmith and I'm me Ro: We're incompatible given even the little we are both aware of concerning each other Ali: Well, I dunno about that, I think he's a fool and my evil plan is working 😏😂 Ali: Because he fancies you Ali: Potentially Ali: This stuff can defy usual logic, for better or worse, opposites CAN attract or repel in the case of humans Ali: But he wants to find out, I know this practically for a fact (of course, I haven't asked, don't worry) so its up to you to decide if you do too Ro: I have no idea what you believe you possess in terms of knowledge about his attractions or intentions but I highly doubt you're right in so far as him fancying me Ro: Sorry to say Ro: He may look like Connla of the Golden Hair but I am by no means a fairy maiden Ro: If only I could be noble born, never grow old or indeed never die Ali: Have you forgotten what happened to the last person to question my omniscience, sister? 🤔🍄💀😉 Ali: And have you also forgotten who and what you are, 'just because they told us too Ali: Cannot believe what I'm hearing here, I refuse to! Ro: of course I haven't Ro: but perhaps I should try and grow up, or at least be more realistic, when it comes to this Ali: Never! We do live in those green and pleasant hills after-all Ali: Won't stroke his ego as hard as to say UNLIMITED pleasures await but Ali: Everyone is positively like a silly child when it comes to love Ro: It isn't love though and therein lies the issue Ro: Simply a silly crush on my part and polite interest on his Ali: It rarely is at first sight Ali: and there's nothing polite about how keen he is Ali: See where it takes you, that's all Ali: he's clearly going to be hanging 'round jam seshs' and the like as long as you're about so whatever it will be, its inevitable Ro: I thought it would be, the whole charade of fireworks when our eyes collide and butterflies in my stomach. Everything clear and definite Ro: I'm afraid of whatever this is Ali: That's just horniness Ali: You just have better restraint than romance novel writers, is all Ali: Its aright to be afraid, its new and unknown Ali: Here be monsters Ro: Well that is comforting, especially if it ensures I won't fall as hard and fast as those heroines do Ro: particularly if I'm destined to do so alone Ro: Okay...but what if the monster is revealed to be me, in his eyes anyway, what if he gets to know me and doesn't like what he discovers Ali: Sure it was the corsets, poor girls could barely breathe, makes swooning all the more likely, those dastardly dandies! Ali: Then he's as bad, and ignorant (and MORE scared of the unknown than you feel right now), as every explorer who wrote natives off as savages Ali: You are far from a monster in every sensible definition Ali: Misunderstanding maketh monsters Ali: So that'd be on him, can't control other's perceptions but he isn't going to think you are, there's just no reason to Ro: I know you're right but Ro: I just suppose I wish I could control something Ali: I know Ali: Well, one thing you can control is your yay or nay to whatever he's offering up Ali: Not suggesting you have to make the first move, or put it all out on the line, 'cos he definitely will Ali: #gentleman Ro: That much is definite Ro: We should call another rehearsal, allow you to guide my vision to where yours currently reside so I'm not blindsided Ro: because I'm just not seeing what he wants with me Ali: Absolutely Ali: I'm really feeling the whole band thing too Ali: Are you enjoying it? Ro: Unexpectedly so, yes Ali: Right? I think everyone is Ali: Its something Ro: I've never played in front of that many people outside of a recital setting, I thought I'd mess up but it wasn't like that at all Ro: And everyone there seemed really into it Ro: Who knew there was so much respective talent surrounding us? Ali: Mess ups are more than welcome but you're flawless Ali: Me me me! 😊 Ali: Toying around with the idea of doing some local performances Ro: Flawless was you and Caleb Ro: I've never heard your voice so complimentary in a duet before, don't tell Marlene Ro: Oh? I think the others would be into that Ali: 💕 Ali: Might get her so raging she'd have to join us to prove you wrong Ali: I know it probably sounds a bit soon but like you said, performances are so different to practice and whatnot Ali: People would vibe Ali: There's all the places I've done solo, they'd be chill, and you know Suggs? Left School this year gone Ali: He's having a big Bday party for his gf and he's asked if I could do something Ro: Terrifying as it'd be to make a possible enemy of her, she's a very good bassist Ro: Very true, and too much practice can make it sound too rehearsed which clearly isn't what you're going for with this Ro: I heard Caleb talking to Drew about potentially performing at the restaurant so he'd be excited for sure Ro: Hm...I'm not certain I know who you mean but a gig's a gig Ro: Would he be alright with you bowing out as a soloist? Ali: She is Ali: She's gonna come around on her own tho, I know her Ali: She's just pouting Ali: Understandably, I'm not being as glib as I sound, just, we weren't right Ali: Exactly! That would be chill, you've gotta come thru with me just to get food, it's delicious and its beautiful Ali: Yeah, of course, one person can only rock out so hard solo Ali: Even if that one person is me Ali: Like, Bowie had a band, ya feel? Ro: I trust you and your intuition Ro: When's the party? Ro: I need to mentally prepare Ali: ✌ Ali: we've got 2 weeks to prep, assuming he doesn't get his arse dumped Ali: awkies, want us to play you out honey? 😂 Ro: Funeral march for his ego Ro: If the stars are good to me I'll make 2 weeks of wishes Ro: Should suffice Ali: Brilliant Ali: I'll check our charts Ali: Pull out some eyelashes if necessary Ali: The stars will fall and align for us Ro: I have faith Ro: Have you told the others yet? Ali: I haven't actually, I'll drop it in the group chat later Ali: Seeing Caleb tonight so I'll discuss the finer points with him then Ro: Good idea Ro: Oh yes, I'd forgotten it's your date night! Ali: As long as he hasn't we'll be fine 😋 Ro: Have you done his chart? If not he has perfect eyelashes to steal Ali: Not yet Ali: Been getting quizzed myself by his Ma Ali: Fair 'nuff but no time to sneak in so hey Ms Cavante, where was Caleb born and at what time exactly? #witchgirlproblems Ro: How very unfair Ro: Tonight could be the night Ro: I've already got the cards out here, questioning myself Ro: The spread's favorable for the party to go well for us as performers Ro: [Sends her a picture of the tarot] Ali: Knew we'd ace it but with the fates on our side we CANNOT fail Ali: are you asking about the Drew sitch? Ro: Perhaps Ali: I got you Ali: Keep it between you and the universe 💖 Ro: OH what are we going to wear for our first performance? Ali: THE BEST BIT Ali: We need to plan! Ali: Maybe shop! Ali: I think the party is a masquerade ball (how sweet for a hapless stoner, right?) Ali: We could run with that Ro: Well now I'm enthused Ro: Pencil me into your diary please Ali: Absolutely Ali: I think we could make better masks than we could ever find Ali: or makeup looks Ali: we will workshop this Ro: Agreed, you could create something amazing overnight Ali: We could go out and forage fresh flowers for it Ali: that would look beautiful Ro: Yes! Oh my god, we have to Ali: Perfection Ali: I'll see what the others want too Ali: Maybe we could go a galaxy glitter/paint moment on the guys but I feel like Meena would fosho want in on this floral faerie moment Ro: If you need me to start pressing any of the flowers let me know Ro: I'll make time Ali: You're an 👼 Ali: We can do it over lunch Ali: in between practicing Ali: Such busy 🐝s Ro: I don't mind I like to stay busy Ro: Do you think Drew will come to the party? Ali: Same tbh Ali: I bet he will Ali: And not to show off his musical prowess, bless him Ro: Do we need a name to perform under if we don't just want to be called 'Ali's band' by the host? Ali: Fantastic point, I don't want to be THAT lead singer Ali: So much to think on, oosh! We'll have to put the feelers out in the group chat Ali: should be something we all vibe Ro: I bet the boys will have some interesting ideas Ro: You should speak to Tommy as well, he's learn so much stage stuff at school Ro: If we're going to do this might as well make it look professional I think Ali: Agreed Ali: As long as he doesn't want to choreograph a whole girl group dance routine for us Ro: Imagine! Ro: I'd have to hide behind the piano Ali: Shy yet sultry keyboard girl prerogative Ali: I'll crowd surf my way outta there Ro: How long of a set are we going to play? Ro: There's so many potential covers not to mention the originals you and Caleb both have written Ali: Oh man Ali: we could do 20 like an opener but we are the main act, as it were, but its not that hardcore Ali: I think we could put together a 60 Ro: I hope we can all agree between us Ali: we will Ali: oh, could you cover for me with Ma tonight? Ali: she's not my bestie rn Ro: Of course Ro: I have a rare night free of any babysitting duties so it'll be simple Ali: Good, you deserve a break from the little demons Ali: I hope a book and a bubble bath are on the cards after you calm down the dragon Ro: They are indeed Ro: Perhaps I can suggest the same for her Ali: Perhaps I'm just giving myself away as twisted but that is a hilarious mental image Ali: Her grumpy face peeking out of a bubble beard Ro: Ali don't that's going to stay with me when I do get in the tub Ro: Oh no Ali: 🙊🙈 Ali: I can only apologize Ro: Cleansing that from my thoughts immediately Ro: Are you coming home at all or just straight out to see Caleb? Ali: If I do, catch me creeping up the stairs Ali: She's not been this pissy since Lachlan Ali: She's so SURE Caleb is like that and its just Ali: hilarious Ali: imagine Ro: Once she gets to know him better she'll change her mind Ro: She has to Ali: She SHOULD but will she? Ali: Stubborn old goat 😂 Ali: He's not going anywhere any time soon so if she wants to pine for Marlene that's on her but Ali: 🤷 Ro: I'll start counting cars to wish on just for her (and you), hold my breath, dig out my baby teeth, everything Ro: She just doesn't want to be a grandmother yet is all, it's no slight on Caleb personally I don't believe Ali: My vagina my choice, Mama Ali: Bless her Ali: It'd be fine if she threw out the same level of concern at...oh, idk Ali: Bea and Fraze Ali: 🙄 Ro: If she could secure us all same sex relationships she would, undoubtedly Ro: Likewise, if there was any feasible way to show Bea concern that she'd allow it'd be done Ali: When your kids don't have the good grace to be gay #gutted Ali: Yeah Ali: I need lessons on how to be a bad bitch, clearly Ro: Please don't take any lessons from Bea Ali: Its okay, I don't think she'd be willing to teach me Ro: Very true Ali: Best kept secrets and all that Ro: Speaking of, I've just received a text and must go Ali: Say no more Ali: run baby run 💚 Ro: Have fun tonight Ro: Bluebeard and I will try not to miss you too much Ali: Aww, I'll be home for snuggles lads Ali: wouldn't wanna get pregnant Ali: Laterz Ro: See you soon xx

[preserving-ferretbrain]

A Successful Audition for the Darwin Award

by Raymond H

Tuesday, 05 June 2018

Or, why Shigeharu Aoyama is the stupidest horror movie protagonist Raymond has ever seen~

Today's song

comes from a much better movie than the one I will be discussing. You should watch

it

instead.

~~~

Let me tell you a tale. It all started in the summer of ’17. That was the summer I was on a horror movie binge, when I watched such greats as The Shining and Rosemary’s Babyfor the first time. And then one day, purely by accident, I stumbled across a little horror movie called Audition. Hey, this looks neat, I thought. It was by a famous Japanese director whose filmography I’d barely viewed, it was going for cheap at the local rental place, and my parents seemed enthusiastic about it. Why not? So Friday night, with freshly-made popcorn and bright-eyed enthusiasm, my parents and I sat down to see what Audition had to offer.

What followed was the worst family movie night experience since The Lobster[1].

First off, I should admit the role of some bias on my part. You see, Audition, whilst ostensibly horror, happens to be my absolute least favorite type of horror: the gross-out gorefest. It is my firmly-held belief that the best kind of horror elicits dread, a suspenseful buzz that quickens the pulse and heightens the heartrate, a steady flow of unease, if you will. To break that buzz with jump scares and shocking imagery is bad enough, but to completely transform it into disgust and nausea utterly defeats the point and demeans the genre, in my humble opinion.

My own snooty genre proclivities aside though, there is another, far deeper problem with Audition, that being its protagonist. You see, he is an idiot. Now, you gotta understand, I’m not talking about your average, run-of-the-mill moron. No no, I mean he’s a grade-a, stone-cold, dyed-in-the-wool dingbat. He’s a nitwit, a ninny, a schnook, a schlemiel. Why he’s the stupidest horror protagonist I ever done seen, and I’ve seen a fair few in my day.

Now come on Raymond, you sigh. You’re not being very sporting here, are you? You say this man is an idiot, and yet you’ve given no evidence to back this up. And besides, horror protagonists get accused of being stupid all the time. What makes your criticism any different from those butthurt dudebros complaining about those waily slasher protagonists, apart from the blonde hair and pom-poms?

To this I say, good, fine, a well and valid point. But remember, the entire premise of those slasher films is that a group of young, hormonally addled teenagers are systematically hunted down and murdered one by one, oftentimes within a secluded and isolated environment. Given such circumstances, I can at least suspend my disbelief enough to buy a high-school cheerleader acting somewhat irrational once she realizes she’s next on the kill list. What I can’t accept is this baka acting just as irrational and clueless, if not MORE so, than said cheerleader even BEFORE anything weird or horrifying happens.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself. I should probably explain the plot first. Okay, so there’s this guy, Aoyama. He’s a middle-aged widower and single father, who keeps getting pestered by friends and family to get back in the dating game. He’s reluctant at first, but then one day a friend of his, who just so happens to be a television producer, comes over to him and says “Hey! Guess what? We are currently holding auditions for the new leading lady in our latest teledrama, and I want you to show up. See, in these kinds of things, we go through hundreds of applicants, many of whom are quite nice and very attractive. And I figure, hey, only one woman can get the part, but there’s no reason the other girls should go home empty-handed. Eh? Eh? Come on, surely there’s gotta be at least someone there you’ll hit it off with.”

Aoyama, in his usual fashion, responds with an “Um, uh, well, um…” This will be a recurring habit of his.

So finally, after being dragged to the audition (ah, d’you seee?)

[2]

Aoyama sets his sights on one lady in particular, Asami, a beautiful (albeit kind of creepy), young (to an ephebic degree), and soft-spoken (you can never tell what she’s thinking) ballerina (whose teacher disappeared under mysterious circumstances). Now, you or I can easily see that, despite being quite a catch, Asami is setting off a few red flags right from the get-go. And indeed, Aoyama’s buddy explicitly says “Hey man, I know she’s cute and all, but like, you might want to be careful going into all this is all I’m saying.” But Aoyama is of course having none of that and completely ignores all the other candidates.

Now, okay, I could possibly forgive that. Lord knows countless men and women have taken similarly stupid plunges in the name of getting nookie, and hey, if Aoyama didn’t go for Asami, we wouldn’t have a story, would we? Here’s the thing though. This is not the only warning sign he receives over the course of the movie. Indeed, you could reasonably say that the first 90 minutes of this film are nothing but a series of increasingly disturbing warning signs which Aoyama ignores. And not only ignores, but outright fails to even react to!

Let me break it down for you. Pretty early on, Aoyama’s buddy pulls him aside and says “Hey man, c’mere, lemme talk t’you fer a sec. Listen, I dunno how t’tell y’this, but none of the gal’s references check out. Like, none of ’em. At all. So like, I think you should maybe just, like, be careful or something. You know, just exercise a little caution, maybe wait a while before you call her next.”

Aoyama, in his usual fashion, responds with an “Um, uh, well, um…” and then immediately proceeds to call Asami.

We are then treated to

this

.

Now, to be fair, Aoyama doesn’t see the bag-man, so this is entirely within the realms of information given to us the audience which is not given to the protagonist. But you know what is given to him? Well for starts, there’s his son saying “Hey dad, listen I’m real happy for you and all, but I just feel like maybe you’re rushing into things a bit.”, there’s his friend (again) saying “Dude! Seriously! This girl is bad news! Abort! Abort!”, oh yeah, and there’s the GHOST OF HIS DEAD WIFE coming to him in a dream and explicitly screaming “RUN! IF YOU VALUE THE CURRENT ARRANGEMENT OF YOUR TESTICLES RUN! RUN THE FUCK AWAY FROM THIS BITCH! SHE’S CRAZY I TELL YOU! CRAAAZYYY!!!”

Now, if you or I were faced with such advice from friends and family, we might stop and think “Huh, maybe I should reconsider the current trajectory of this relationship.” If an ordinary horror protagonist was faced with it, they might stop and think “Huh, maybe I should reconsider the current trajectory of this…nah, let’s give it one more date.” However, Aoyama is no ordinary fellow, nor is he an ordinary horror protagonist. He’s the stupidest horror protagonist I ever done seen, and his reaction to all these warnings is to try tracking Asami down to her house. There are many ways to deal with a potential serial killer. Going in alone and unprotected into their headquarters without backup or even telling anyone is not one of them.

Of course, there is one slight problem with Aoyama's plan. Remember, none of Asami’s references check out, so Aoyama only has a few tenuous leads to go on in his search. Fortunately he finds answers pretty quickly. Unfortunately…ugh…

So he goes to this bar that Asami says she works at. He finds it abandoned. When he asks about, the local expositor explains “What? That bar? Oh, yeah, there was a really gruesome murder there, a while back. Yeah, there was a young woman, and a guy, and the guy slept with the mama at the bar, and then one morning the cops found the bar drenched in blood. It’s weird, they didn’t find any bodies, but they identified the blood as belonging to the guy and the mama. Oh yeah, and they found an eye and three fingers. The young woman disappeared. Man, it’s so weird, but I mean, it’s not like the young woman sounds exactly like your girlfriend or anything, hahaha! Hohoho! Peace.”

Now…if you were in that position, what would you do? Run? Forget Asami? Plunge forward for the sake of getting some? All fine and good responses. Now…now uh, now tell me…what do you think Aoyama, in his…infinite wisdom, does? Hm? HMM?

“Sigh”

Aoyama, in his usual fashion, responds with an “Um, uh, well, um…” And then…then he goes to a dance studio that Asami supposedly frequents. Only to find, oh, wow, it’s completely abandoned and boarded up. Who could have possibly seen that coming?

So anyways, Aoyama hears piano music coming from the studio, so he breaks in, and inside he finds an elderly man sitting in a wheelchair, playing the piano in the corner of a darkened dance-room. No-one else is around. The man looks like he’s been there for who knows how long. Suddenly, as Aoyama steps into the room, the man halts his playing, and glances up. Slowly he turns, and sees a frightened Aoyama, breath bated in surprise. Then, a sick, slimy grin splays across the old man’s face, and with teetering, arthritic hands, he rolls his way over to our hero.

“So…tell me,” the old man rasps, his voice cracked and hoarse with perverted delight. “Did…you taste her flesh? Mehah. Mehahahah! Mahahahahah! Did…you smell her skin? Mahahah! Mahahahah! Meheheheh…fool. You are doomed. Doomed! DOOMED! MAHAHAH! MAHAHAHAHA! MA-HAHA-HAHAAAH!”

This time Aoyama doesn’t respond. No, seriously. Where others might flee in terror or proclaim “Old man, you be tripping.”, Aoyama…does nothing. He exits the ballet studio in the exact same state of mind as when he entered. He completely, utterly, and inconceivably refuses to even acknowledge what just occurred. Great Belin man! Are you for real? Give us something, anything! Even an “Um, uh, well, um…” would be satisfactory. But no, no! Instead Aoyama’s only thoughts are “Huh. I wonder where Asami is.” Are you serious? Are you genuinely, legitimately serious at this point, Aoyama? Sweet baby Jesus man, no amount of half-your-age nookie can possibly justify this level of willful stupidity! Are you really, really going to do this?

Aoyama, in his usual fashion, responds with an “Um, uh, well, um…”

It was at this point my parents and I began exchanging bewildered glances.

Then he comes home and finds Asami’s killed his dog and OMIGOD NO! NOOO! HOW COULD YOU TAKASHI MIIKE? HOW COULD YOU? GOD FUCKING DAMMIT! I FUCKING REMEMBER WHEN THE DOG FIRST APPEARED IN THIS GODDAMN FILM AND MY HEART SKIPPED A LITTLE BEAT AND I PRAYED “Oh please Lord. Please, kill the boy, kill the housekeeper, kill the protagonist for God’s sake, but don’t, for the love of God, don’t kill the dog.” AND THE DOG IS THE ONLY ONE TO FUCKING DIE IN THE WHOLE FUCKING MOVIE AND

Oooh, you cry. Duh! Buh! Raymond!

Ssspoiiileeers

! For a movie that was released in 1999! Which is mostly known for the massive orgy of death and violence in the last 20 minutes of its runtime! Well fuck you! This is a tale, goddammit! I’ll spoil whatever the hell I like! You want a review, go read Armond fucking White!

Anyways, where was I? Ah yes, so Asami slips something into Aoyama’s drink, he trips balls for a couple minutes, during which time we are treated to the fate of that guy (you know, the one in the bag who slept with the mama), the old man, oh yeah, and we find out what the deal with Aoyama’s secretary was. For real dude, what the hell? Oh yeah, also we get to witness the most uncomfortable blowjob scene in the history of cinema! Nobody enjoyed that scene, least of all you. What else? Ah, of course, how stupid of me. Asami cuts off Aoyama’s foot in lovingly rendered, crystal clear, high definition.

It was at this point my father left the living room.

My mother and I, more out of spite than anything else at this point, figured we’d see the film through to the end, and honestly, even in my current, spoilery mindset, I can’t be bothered to give the ending away. Partly because I still have some spoiler scruples, partly because it’s so bland and predictable you can see it coming a mile away, and partly because…I just don’t want to. Suffice it to say, things turn out alright in the end. I mean, there was all that gross-out stuff, which I don’t recommend even for you gorefest aficionados, but apart from that, and, y’know, the whole foot thing, Aoyama is none the worse for wear, and is already planning to tell this latest crazy ex story at the next work outing

[3]

.

Normally after a family movie night, my family and I like to chat about the movie. You know, what we liked, what we didn’t like, that sort of thing. This time, my mother and I remained in silence as we took the disc out, put it back in the case, and turned the tv off. When we walked upstairs to the dining room, we found my father sipping a mug of tea, like some men would swig a flask of brandy after a harrowing day’s work.

“So,” he grunted. “Did we ever find out why she was…y’know, the way she was?”

And, strange as it may seem, it wasn’t until then that I realized, Audition isn’t actually a good movie. Seriously, my own distaste for gorefests aside, this is a bad film. I’ve seen plenty of people say this is a feminist movie, which casts a critical lens on the patriarchal society of Japan and like, smashes all these preconceptions about women and fights for their rights and I call bullshit, for three main reasons.

Number one, the only thing Aoyama is ever really punished for is getting involved with the wrong sort of woman. Not the audition itself, not the way he treated the actual nice women that he said he was looking for, not for wanting to bang an ephebic ballerina or his son’s teenage girlfriend, no, simply for getting involved with a “crazy” girl.

Number two, Asami doesn’t seem to be motivated by anything other than petty jealousy in her revenge methods. Remember, she killed the mama at the bar, whom you could reasonably say was as much a victim of the guy’s womanizing ways as Asami was. And as for the guy himself, Asami’s torture of him is expressly designed to make him totally dependent on her, not to punish him for straying, but to make herself more valuable to him so that he won’t ever want to stray. And finally, this leads to the biggest reason.

Number three, we never get any explanation for why Asami is the way she is. There is a cursory comment about how because she was abused as a child she came to believe that love and pain were inseparable and can you see how deep and philosophical this movie is but it’s an esoteric bluff. At the end of the day, it doesn’t alter our perception of her in any meaningful way. She’s still a crazy serial killer, who kills dogs and mutilates men for shits and giggles. This explanation doesn’t serve to make us empathize with her. Just the opposite, it makes her even creepier, and drives the point that she’s a villain that needs to be stopped even further home. In the end, the only explanation we really get is that same, old, tired cliché: That bitch is crazy.

In the end, there are some interesting themes and concepts in Audition, but the movie never really goes anywhere interesting or says anything meaningful with them, instead always choosing to take the easiest, goriest, most juvenile way out. Anything great in the movie is snuffed out by disinterested shrugs and handwaves, and all that’s left is sex and violence. It’s rather like going to a classical music concert, where midway through the concerto the pianist suddenly screams “FUCK EVERYTHING!”, throws a cat onto the keyboard, sets the piano on fire, guns the remaining orchestra down, cackles as the concert hall explodes, and then shoot the cat in the knee after it tries to sue

[4]

. I know the movie is based off a book, and maybe that does a better job handling the ideas the story puts forward, but honestly, with an audition like this, I don’t think I’m gonna call this story back anytime soon.

It’s funny. I’m sure there’s a moral to be learned from this tale. I just have no idea what it is. Maybe it’s don’t disrespect women. Maybe it’s bitches be crazy. But personally, I think the best moral this tale has to offer is this: Know what you’re getting into. Please, if you take nothing else from this, just remember that. Know what you are getting into.

[1]

We thought it was a romantic comedy, okay? The synopsis made it sound like a wacky romantic comedy!

[2]

Yes, yes, YES! Since day ONE I have been waiting to say that and now I've finally done it! Haha! やった！

[3]

Where he’ll probably sleep with his new secretary and toss her aside just as callously seriously what the hell dude?

[4]

Seriously, in all its 60 cat years in the industry it’s never been treated this badly, not once! 60 cat years! And that’s like, 11 human years!Themes:

TV & Movies

,

Horror

,

Minority Warrior

,

Romance

,

Crime Fiction

~

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~Comments (

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)

Arthur B

at 10:56 on 2018-06-05See, I have a different take on

Audition

. Yes, Aoyama acts like a fool. On the other hand, he acts like precisely the sort of fool patriarchal society has set him up to be.

There's a cliche in discussing dating and the risks people face in that context of "Men are afraid of being embarrassed; women are afraid of being murdered", and there's quite a big chunk of truth to it: women are by far the targets of violence more than they are the perpetrators of it in dating contexts, and I know numerous women who feel that they have to take various safety steps when going on a date in the event that the person they're with turns out to be some form of abuser - the classic full-blown serial killer being an extreme example, but hardly an unknown one. I don't think I've ever known a man to express the same fears about meeting up with a woman.

So far as I can tell, the whole point of

Audition

is to depict a man who, for once, is actually subject to the same danger that women are routinely subjected to in dating - and because he's a privileged little patriarch, he doesn't recognise the danger at all.

That's part of how privilege works

- it insulates you from the very idea that someone might dare to harm you. (As a beneficiary of that privilege, I often find it eye-opening and startling how much others who don't get the same benefits have to be wary.)

So sure, he gets all these people suggesting that he should distance himself from Asami, but when has the disapproval of one's peers ever prompted anyone to break off a new relationship? And sure, he investigates Asami's background and finds out that

something

is up, but I think it entirely makes sense for him to decide that whatever that is, it surely can't be her fault - that if anything, she's in trouble and she needs a doughy patriarch like him to save her. The possibility that

she might be the trouble

doesn't occur to Aoyama because he doesn't conceive of young, pretty girls as being capable of being trouble. And you know how the saying goes: when you assume, you make an ass out of yourself and lose a foot.

As far as Asami's apparent lack of clear motivations go, I don't consider them a problem. The stated motivations of real life serial killers aren't especially narratively satisfactory either, in most cases. Again, so far as I can see, the whole point of Asami is that she is (on a somewhat grand guignol scale) exactly the sort of sadistic abuser that women have to be afraid of on a regular basis, but which men are rarely in danger from. Plus, giving her actions a convincing rationale would run the risk of, if not excusing them, at least making them somehow sympathetic.

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Raymond H

at 12:02 on 2018-06-05...Okay...I see what you're saying...and I half-agree, but I still don't quite see it that way, and it all boils down to that word you used "sympathetic". I think, if you are trying to point a lens at a put-upon group of people, then you need to paint that group with at least some degree of sympathy, but from my experience, the audience's sympathy seemed intended for Aoyama all the way through, even when they demonstrated some of his more reprehensible thoughts and actions. Ultimately, even if this film was intended to subtly mock viewers' patriarchal prejudices, it still set about doing it with a scaaary woman that needed to be killed. So it's kind of like reading Dracula as a subtle critique of Victorian pomposity and prejudice. Considering that Stoker was himself an Irishman, that's an entirely valid reading, but because Dracula is a blood-drinking, soulless abomination, it somewhat shoots the message in the foot. Maybe it's because of my experience reading Naomi, which seemed like it's criticizing its patriarchal protagonist, but then was actually just about how if you let women have male friends or talk back in any way it'll destroy society.

You are right, unless there's a clear power imbalance, when women are abusive to men, they go for emotional and psychological abuse, rather than physical, at least from my experience. And maybe it's because of that experience that I'm bitter and cynical, and was thus more receptive to the warning signs Asami exhibited. However, by making Asami, as you said, a female version of the sort of serial killer a woman might encounter on the dating scene, I think the filmmakers went too far, from satire to farce. I do like what you pointed out, that Aoyama's stupidity can be chalked up partially to how he never suspects Asami might be the trouble, and I know that can be a blinder. But again, I think without any sympathy, Asami's excessive psychopathy ended up hurting any potentially anti-sexism message the film had. By making her the abuser, and making Aoyama the victim, it makes it difficult to see beyond that evil woman / good man dynamic. Maybe it worked better in the book, maybe I'm too distrustful to put myself fully in Aoyama's shoes, but I don't know.

Geez, that was long-winded and messy. Sorry. Uh, I guess, in summation, I think you make several valid points, but I just can't agree %100.

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Ichneumon

at 04:33 on 2018-06-08I dunno, I think you can write and effective horror yarn around a largely unsympathetic cast. The point of horror isn't necessarily to reflect empathy with the characters themselves; rather, as Thomas Ligotti has argued, horror is about empathy with a set of shared fears and a shared understanding with the author. The shared fear here is not that of the protagonist person see, pathetic though he is, but of women within a patriarchal society which objectifies and abuses them; the empathy may in part be with the victim, made a patsy by societal expectations, but also with the author's dim view of said society.

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Raymond H

at 12:58 on 2018-06-11Okay! So, uh, I guess I ought to start with some kind of disclaimer or something. This article was simply meant as a means to laugh at a bad family movie night experience. By laughing at things, we often are able to deal with and process them better, after all. However, Arthur's initial comment struck a chord with me. Not because he disagreed with my opinion on the internet (the unforgivable sin), but because his comment

As a beneficiary of that privilege, I often find it eye-opening and startling how much others who don't get the same benefits have to be wary.

made me realize that my own experiences with dating and romance may not have been, for lack of a better word, "normal". I've always laughed at the things that happened to me, because, again, that makes them easier to deal with, and I'd always thought that, because I was a straight, cis guy, whatever had happened to me couldn't possibly measure up to what women or trans people face on a daily basis. And it doesn't. But after talking with friends and family, I realize it does matter, and I can't just keep laughing it off. Just because a disease isn't cancer or AIDS doesn't mean it isn't fatal if left untreated. And I need to treat this. So, uh, thanks Arthur, I guess.

Hoo! Okay, that was...man! I'm glad you convinced me to use a pseudonym, Arthur, because without that I'd probably have kept all that under a pickle-jar-tight lid. But ironically enough, an internet-based mask let me open up and deal with a deep-rooted issue in my life. Tell everybody what, next article I write will be about a happy romantic comedy.

Okay, now to address Ichneumon's comment, and Arthur's comment correctly this time! What bugged me about a lot of reviews that praised Audition's supposed feminist credentials was that they operated under the logic of "Asami tries to kill the guy that objectified her, ergo she is a feminist hero, ergo this is a feminist film". I don't agree with that line of logic, for the reasons I listed in the article. However, re-reading Arthur's comment, I see that you're actually going down a different logic route. "Asami is a reflection of the worst fears a woman in the dating scene can face, ergo by making her a her and her victim a him, it flips the power dynamic of this traditional, real-world horror and thus casts a lens on said real-world horror." Ichneumon, your comment, if I understand it correctly, is basically "Even if you don't like Aoyama, you can still empathize with his fear, and thus even if the movie seems to be 'sympathizing' with him, it could still be deeply criticizing him."

Thinking about it, I would say those are valid "readings" of the film, and again, maybe my own experiences have clouded my own reading. Even accepting your readings though, I stand by my judgment that Miike went for the most gratuitously violent and juvenile route when dealing with these issues. Even thinking back on the film and going "Oh yeah, I guess that's right", I still think Miike was too focused on "Whoo! Blood! Guts! Fuckin' gorefest maaan!" for me to consider this a good film. Genre fiction, in my opinion, is used best when wrapping real-world issues and problems in a creamy, more easily-digestible genre coating. In the case of horror, no boogeyman or monster under the bed can compare to the myriad ways that human beings can hurt you, but personifying real-world fears as boogeymen and monsters can make them or their memory a little easier to confront. But I think Miike was too firmly focused on the personification of Asami to really give the real-world fears behind her conception the focus and subtlety they deserve. I don't think horror should be "feel-good", but it should give you the courage to face your fears. This film seems more focused on making patriarchally-insulated men as scared as women are when it comes to dating, and it stops at that point, rather than going on to make the male audience think about how to change this patriarchal system. And that, I think, is why I still can't bring myself to like this film.

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Arthur B

at 13:39 on 2018-06-11Yeah, I think any reading of the film where Asami is any sort of "hero" is simply untenable - when you take into account more or less every aspect of how the movie frames her actions and their effect on people, the argument simply doesn't have a leg to stand on.

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Ichneumon

at 02:59 on 2018-06-12Oh, I agree. But I do think the subtext is quite important here in terms of the mechanics of the horror even if one does not care for the execution. Asami is a ghoulish subversion of the assumptions of a patriarchal society made flesh; her existence as a concept may resonate, but that does not make her anything resembling a sympathetic character—if anything, that type of character is more a force of nature, an emanation of the malevolence or harrowing indifference of greater forces rather than a person in themselves.

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Robinson L

at 15:00 on 2018-08-15

apart from that, and, y’know, the whole foot thing, Aoyama is none the worse for wear

Doesn't that invalidate him being a candidate for a Darwin Award?

Also, do you think you could edit the footnotes to make them links. It would aid readability, and I'm pretty sure it's in the HTML guide for articles.

I don't have any comments on the actual movie, as it's so far removed from my interests. *shrug*

I've always laughed at the things that happened to me, because, again, that makes them easier to deal with, and I'd always thought that, because I was a straight, cis guy, whatever had happened to me couldn't possibly measure up to what women or trans people face on a daily basis. And it doesn't. But after talking with friends and family, I realize it does matter, and I can't just keep laughing it off. Just because a disease isn't cancer or AIDS doesn't mean it isn't fatal if left untreated. And I need to treat this.

Oh, wow. I'm so glad this conversation led to such a positive revelation for you, and you're absolutely right. A couple months ago, I saw something reposted on Facebook, originally from a counselor who's worked with survivors of severe trauma, extreme childhood abuse and the like, and noting that even they are quick to say, "there are other people who have it worse than me." The originally poster's point is that everybody downplays their own woundness in contrast to someone else's experience, and even if the contrast is true, that doesn't mean you don't also need help and healing. Your disease analogy reminds me of a similar comparison I came up with a few years ago, about medical patients, one with severe burns, and multiple broken and fractured bones, and the other with a broken arm. Sure, the former has it worse off and should probably get higher priority in treatment, but that doesn't negate the latter's need for help and healing also.

ironically enough, an internet-based mask let me open up and deal with a deep-rooted issue in my life.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that a fairly common experience for people dealing with some heavy shit online? Isn't the anonymity one of the major contributing factors to many people's ability to process issues of trauma, sexual orientation, gender identity, mental illness and a host of other taboo/stigmatized subjects? Doesn't strike me as particularly ironic at all.

In any case, I'm so glad your participation on the site, and this conversation in particular, helped you come to this realization and start working on getting yourself the help you need. I know it's been a while (chronically behind on articles, me), and you're still working out the employment situation, but I hope you've managed some progress here, too.

This film seems more focused on making patriarchally-insulated men as scared as women are when it comes to dating, and it stops at that point, rather than going on to make the male audience think about how to change this patriarchal system.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that true of a lot of social commentary in fiction? I mean, that it shines a light on a particular problem without really pointing towards potential solutions? It seems a fairly common phenomenon to me.

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Arthur B

at 15:50 on 2018-08-15

Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that true of a lot of social commentary in fiction? I mean, that it shines a light on a particular problem without really pointing towards potential solutions? It seems a fairly common phenomenon to me.

Agreed, and to be honest neither fictional nor non-fictional statements need propose a solution to be valid. I don't need to propose a potential solution to homophobia to point out that Orson Scott Card is a homophobe, for instance.

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Raymond H

at 05:04 on 2018-08-24

Doesn't that invalidate him being a candidate for a Darwin Award?

You just want the world, don't you? In all seriousness, the title was more to indicate Aoyama's stupidity than his dying or being rendered sterile, since the whole point of the Darwin Award and the reason we laugh at the winners is less to do with the results of their actions and more the fact that someone would take those actions to begin with.

Also, do you think you could edit the footnotes to make them links.

I... don't... know... how... I couldn't find anything about it in the HTML Guide, except for the bit about putting links to outside websites in the article,

which I thankfully know how to do

.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that true of a lot of social commentary in fiction? I mean, that it shines a light on a particular problem without really pointing towards potential solutions? It seems a fairly common phenomenon to me.

I guess this is just another matter of different personal experiences. I just think that if you're going to go to the trouble of making a whole piece of art, as opposed to a simple critique or internet comment, to address a particular social issue, you should try to discuss the issue more comprehensively than simply going "Man, I am so woke for knowing about this issue! Bask in my wokeness." I've run into too many people who think all that's needed to change the world is to smoke weed and brag about how aware they are to find that attitude anything but insufferable. And again, this is all reliant on the axiom that such social commentary was intentional on Miike's part.

I really hate to be that guy in this situation. I myself have tried for years to get friends of mine into things that I like, where my best-reasoned arguments and most-impassioned treatises are apathetically deflected by said friends' simple inability to enjoy those things. And I can tell from the comments section that now I'm the one who just doesn't get it. But I'm simply not feeling it like you all are. I wish that I was, but I just...can't. I'm sorry.

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Robinson L

at 18:30 on 2018-08-28I've never really followed the Darwin Awards, so I wouldn't know.

Oh yeah. I remember figuring out the html code for footnotes was a little weird for me. I've just looked back at my very first article, and it turns out I submitted it with a footnote, which got coded when the article was transferred from my original text submission into a Ferretbrain article, by Kyra or Rami or whoever would have done that. I must have accessed it that way.

Anyway, at the risk of pulling away the curtain for non-contributing readers, here's the html code I use for footnotes:

< sup >< a href="#ftnote">[1]< /a >< /sup >

< sup >< a id="ftnote">[1]< /a >< /sup >

(Just remove the spaces before and after the < and > characters - added to prevent auto-formatting - and replace the "1" inside the square brackets with the desired number for both parts after the first footnote.)

I just think that if you're going to go to the trouble of making a whole piece of art, as opposed to a simple critique or internet comment, to address a particular social issue, you should try to discuss the issue more comprehensively than simply going "Man, I am so woke for knowing about this issue! Bask in my wokeness."

Huh, I don't know about that. I mean, absolutely, yes, you should try to discuss the issue comprehensively in a piece of art - but it doesn't necessarily follow that you should suggest a solution. Maybe you think you don't have the answers; or at least aren't convinced your answers are right. Or you think there are too many answers to fit into one piece, and don't want to privilege one or two answers over the others. Or you think it's more important to get your viewers to come up with their own answers.

There have definitely been times when I've seen a piece of art address a given difficult social issue without suggesting a solution, and it felt like a cop-out. But I've also seen plenty of examples which work so perfectly as what they are that putting in a part about "this is how we could fix this problem" would cheapen the result.

Doctor Strangelove

doesn't fail as a critique of militarism and the nuclear arms race because it refrains from putting forward a comprehensive program for phasing out nuclear weapons, or war in general. Indeed, it would likely be a far inferior film if it tried. Likewise,

The Lorax

doesn't need to propose a solution for environmental devastation to make the point that environmental devastation is a serious problem that we should work to solve.

I can believe that, if

Audition

is indeed trying to make a serious point about rape culture and male violence, it does so badly. But I think if so, then I don't think "it fails to propose a solution to these problems" is the reason.

And I can tell from the comments section that now I'm the one who just doesn't get it. But I'm simply not feeling it like you all are. I wish that I was, but I just...can't. I'm sorry.

I hope you're kidding, because a piece of art working fine for other people is no reason to expect it should necessarily work for you as well. Personally, I've never seen and with luck never will see

Audition

, because, as I've mentioned elsewhere, horror is decidedly not one of my preferred genres; especially not film/tv horror.

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Raymond H

at 13:11 on 2018-09-01Comments: Ooh, thank you!

Commentary: That's... a good point.

Concern: Oh. Well... I mean...

this is the internet...

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Robinson L

at 22:02 on 2018-09-10You're welcome, thanks for cleaning up the formatting, it looks much smoother now.

Well... I mean... this is the internet...

Yeah, plus, I screw up reading others' moods in person often enough - I'm hopeless at it online, so I thought I should check.

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Raymond H

at 04:21 on 2018-09-16Nah, it's cool. Thanks. :)

#Ferretbrain #Raymond H #Audition #Minority Warrior #Horror