#And I don't think we need to take his narrators as the final word

[morlock-holmes]

I think this is debatable and depends on who and what we're talking about.

I'm not well-acquainted with the genre of Lovecraft revisionism, aside from the following:

Charles Stross' first few Laundry books, which are sort of jocular and only arguably revisionist in this sense;

The first episode of Lovecraft Country, which had dialog so deep into the territory of "They would say that, but not in that way" that I gave up in irritation twenty minutes in;

Shoggoths in Bloom, which I rather liked.

This being said, I've been rereading Lovecraft in prep for some Cthulhu GMing, and here's part of the opening of The Shadow over Innsmouth [All bolding is my own]:

"During the winter of 1927–28 officials of the Federal government made a strange and secret investigation of certain conditions in the ancient Massachusetts seaport of Innsmouth... No trials, or even definite charges, were reported; nor were any of the captives seen thereafter in the regular gaols of the nation. There were vague statements about disease and concentration camps, and later about dispersal in various naval and military prisons, but nothing positive ever developed. Innsmouth itself was left almost depopulated, and is even now only beginning to shew signs of a sluggishly revived existence. Complaints from many liberal organisations were met with long confidential discussions, and representatives were taken on trips to certain camps and prisons. As a result, these societies became surprisingly passive and reticent...

And here's how it ends:

One night I had a frightful dream in which I met my grandmother under the sea... She had changed—as those who take to the water change—and told me she had never died. Instead, she had gone to a spot her dead son had learned about, and had leaped to a realm whose wonders—destined for him as well—he had spurned with a smoking pistol. This was to be my realm, too—I could not escape it. I would never die, but would live with those who had lived since before man ever walked the earth... This was the dream in which I saw a shoggoth for the first time, and the sight set me awake in a frenzy of screaming. That morning the mirror definitely told me I had acquired the Innsmouth look. So far I have not shot myself as my uncle Douglas did. I bought an automatic and almost took the step, but certain dreams deterred me. The tense extremes of horror are lessening, and I feel queerly drawn toward the unknown sea-deeps instead of fearing them. I hear and do strange things in sleep, and awake with a kind of exaltation instead of terror. I do not believe I need to wait for the full change as most have waited. If I did, my father would probably shut me up in a sanitarium as my poor little cousin is shut up. Stupendous and unheard-of splendours await me below, and I shall seek them soon. Iä-R’lyeh! Cthulhu fhtagn! Iä! Iä! No, I shall not shoot myself—I cannot be made to shoot myself! I shall plan my cousin’s escape from that Canton madhouse, and together we shall go to marvel-shadowed Innsmouth. We shall swim out to that brooding reef in the sea and dive down through black abysses to Cyclopean and many-columned Y’ha-nthlei, and in that lair of the Deep Ones we shall dwell amidst wonder and glory for ever.

Bolding mine again.

This is the emotional climax of At The Mountains of Madness when the narrator finds four Old Ones that have been killed by a Shoggoth:

They had not been even savages—for what indeed had they done? That awful awakening in the cold of an unknown epoch—perhaps an attack by the furry, frantically barking quadrupeds, and a dazed defence against them and the equally frantic white simians with the queer wrappings and paraphernalia . . . poor Lake, poor Gedney . . . and poor Old Ones! Scientists to the last—what had they done that we would not have done in their place? God, what intelligence and persistence! What a facing of the incredible, just as those carven kinsmen and forbears had faced things only a little less incredible! Radiates, vegetables, monstrosities, star-spawn—whatever they had been, they were men!

And their slaves or servitors, the Shoggoths:

[The Shoggoths] had always been controlled through the hypnotic suggestion of the Old Ones, and had modelled their tough plasticity into various useful temporary limbs and organs; but now their self-modelling powers were sometimes exercised independently, and in various imitative forms implanted by past suggestion. They had, it seems, developed a semi-stable brain whose separate and occasionally stubborn volition echoed the will of the Old Ones without always obeying it... They seem to have become peculiarly intractable toward the middle of the Permian age, perhaps 150 million years ago, when a veritable war of re-subjugation was waged upon them by the marine Old Ones. Pictures of this war, and of the headless, slime-coated fashion in which the shoggoths typically left their slain victims, held a marvellously fearsome quality despite the intervening abyss of untold ages. The Old Ones had used curious weapons of molecular disturbance against the rebel entities, and in the end had achieved a complete victory. Thereafter the sculptures shewed a period in which shoggoths were tamed and broken by armed Old Ones as the wild horses of the American west were tamed by cowboys.

It's harder to sum up in short excerpts, but The Whisperer in Darkness deals with this as well, with a genuine ambiguity as to exactly how hostile and dangerous the Mi-Go are. How much of the sympathetic portrait which they paint of themselves can we really believe?

The whispering being which pretends to be Harry Akeley contends that perhaps Earth is as frightening and alien to the Mi-Go as Yuggoth would be to us.

Lovecraft, and I think this is really papered over sometimes, didn't just have racist opinions in his personal life; he wrote overtly racist prose and poetry. If we interpret the ending of The Shadow over Innsmouth with the idea that it is meant to be horrible, well, he only encouraged that in some of his other work.

But it's also just overtly not the case that the bizarre and foreign always represents monstrousness and degeneration, as the Old Ones in At The Mountains of Madness demonstrate.

What I will say is that I don't think that any of these stories [EDIT: By which I mean these specific stories I've mentioned, not Lovecraft's entire corpus] represent a lapse into Nihilism in the face of an incomprehensible universe; they deal primarily with our narrators attempting to contend with something dangerous and alien, and the question of how that ought to be viewed constitutes the emotional thread of these stories (Arguably throw The Shadow Out of Time in there too).

If you want to disagree with the narrator of Mountains, or agree with the narrator of Innsmouth, or wonder what it was like for those who had more peaceful contact with the Mi-Go (Are those assertions about cults of wicked men who seek out and destroy the Mi-Go and their allies truth, or self-serving lies, or something in between?) I think that isn't so much missing the point as doing almost exactly what Lovecraft was doing in those stories.

Which, to be honest, now strike me as themselves much more ambiguous than pop culture has made them out to be.

extremely petty and bitchy hot take of the night: making a whole production of how queer and transgressive and anti-racist your take on lovecraft is and how much the guy would have despised it and be spinning in its grave just feels like pro forma marketing at this point. "Lovecraft but fuck Lovecraft' is a whole genre now. You're not breaking any barriers, stop acting like you're blowing people's minds here.

[sugurufic]

Co-Parenting with Suguru

AU where Geto didn't kill the entire village but adopted Nanako and Mimiko (I love mommy geto)

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Geto is able to adopt Mimiko and Nanako with your help, and how the girls with Gojo set you two up. Acquaintances to lovers, idiots who care for each other. (pure fluff, and i've tried to avoid using y/n)

You wouldn't say you and Geto were good friends, but when you were asked to testify on his behalf in front of the higher ups, you readily agreed. You were tasked to look after the twin girls he had brought back from the village and they were the sweetest little girls you had ever met. Even if Geto had killed those villagers, you couldn't blame him - they were torturing two innocent souls on problems caused by their own vices. 

Shoko and Gojo couldn't testify to Geto's character - everyone knew they were practically joint at the hip - the three of them are always together. You were closer to Utahime  your senpai, known to not like Gojo and Geto very much. With whatever casual conversations you had had with Geto, you hadn't really found a reason to dislike him. And hearing Nanako and Mimiko call him “Geto-Sama” in their sweet little voices only helped in solidifying your high opinion of him.

You heard their narration of the night and how Geto with his incredible bangs and magic powers stopped the evil people hurting them and took him away and dropped them into your arms.

“Do you really think any of those could be trusted with kids?” Geto asked. You snorted in response and gladly accepted to take care of the two lovely little girls.

“Your Geto-Sama will be right back with you,” you promised the girls while closing the buttons of your uniform. “I will be back in a bit. I've got dolls for the both of you,”

“Thank you,” they tell you, adding “sama” to your name. You blush but don't say anything, having already told them to not address you as such multiple times over the couple of days.

“I don't believe that Geto-San could have gone out of his way to hurt those people. In fights with curses, collateral damage is always there, and Geto had two little sorcerers to take care of. I think we can excuse him this time.” You said when you were asked to speak.

“I don't see anything wrong with letting Geto-San take care of the two girls. They clearly trust him much more than anyone else, after how horribly they were treated by the village. I pitch on his behalf, that he would take utmost care of the two sorcerers under his care.” You said when the question for their custody arose.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” Geto said bowing in front of you once the elders were done with the hearing. They had dismissed everyone else to discuss the matter.

“You've got some lovely girls to parent now, Geto-san,” you say, returning his charming smile. “Are you sure you are ready to be a parent?”

“Not really, no,” He admits. “I will try my best though,” 

“Oh they are such lovely girls, I have half a heart to keep them for myself,” You fawn, feeling suspiciously giddy. “If you ever need a babysitter-”

“I will definitely call you,” Geto nods with a smile on his beautiful face. He has always been beautiful, but today with his hair half-up, half-down, he looks especially charming. He rushes away on hearing footsteps and you walk the short distance to the dormitories. 

“Hello girls!” You excitedly enter your room, holding out a bunch of cookies in your hands, thanks to Utahime. “The final decision of the higher ups will come later today, but Geto should be free to see you,” You give them the stack of cookies and then seeing the styled dolls add, “Do you girls like dressing up?”

You smile with the way their eyes widen with excitement and open your humble wardrobe in the dormitory, giving them access to everything they'd need to get dressed up. They decide to dress you up instead, and the three of you are full of giggles as they take your makeup and freely draw on your face - and be surprisingly good at it. You play some of your favourite music, which the girls seem to enjoy and then they paint your nails. They dress you in your best clothes and you love the way they've styled you.

There's still a long time left before the higher ups will announce the decision, so you take the girls out shopping to distract them. Fortunately, your income as a sorcerer allows you to have the freedom to spoil your girls - and you love it to an alarming extent. Mimiko and Nanako have got excellent taste, you'll credit them that - they pick out the cutest dresses for each other and coloured lip balms that compliments each other's hair well. You encourage them to change into their new clothes in the mall itself  and take so many pictures of them and with them - and you are almost sad at the thought of letting Geto have them, but that's something you will be sad for later.

You've lost track of time at the mall, and when you get back it's already twilight. The girls had a lovely day, and they are still buzzing with excitement when you enter. 

Geto is sitting on your bed, in a semi-clear spot with almost all of your stuff on it - from the whirlwind that dressed you earlier. 

“Geto-Sama!” The girls scream with delight and kneel down in front of him with bows, showing how grateful they were to him - he motions them to get up and hugs them both simultaneously, but his foxy eyes hold your gaze as he says, “Mimiko and Nanako can live with me, from now.”

Your body reacts to the news faster than your mind, and you've already planted a kiss on his cheek and have your arms wrapped around him before you realise what you have done. A crimson blush colours his face along with your lipstick as he thanks you, his voice softer and breather than usual.

Your whole body heats up when you see the colour of your lipstick on his cheek  and the way he makes no attempt to wipe it off his flushed cheeks as Mimiko and Nanako look up at him with glittering eyes. 

You hear your name from Nanako’s mouth, noting the “sama” she had added yet again. Geto's eyes are affectionate as he hears them gush to him about you, about the fun they had with you. 

While Mimiko is in Geto's arms, Nanako makes her way into yours and you feel silly for tearing up. You hug her close to your chest, feeling her little arms around your shoulders. “Thank you for bringing back Geto-Sama,” Nanako whispers to you. You pat her head and plant a gentle kiss on her cheek, now mindful of the transferring lipstick.

The sound of a camera clicking snaps the four of you out of the trance, and you find the Gojo Satoru standing at the threshold of your room, clicking pictures of the four of you. “Suguru, you get a girlfriend and daughters and you forget all about your best friend,” He tuts, dramatically putting a hand over his chest, his icy blue eyes peeking from behind his sunglasses.

Gojo gasps on seeing the lipstick mark on Suguru’s cheek and takes out his phone to snap even more pictures of a blushing Suguru. “You forgot to mention things were this serious!” He says, mock offended.

“Gojo/Satoru, shut up!” You and Geto speak simultaneously.

“You're even saying the same things now,” Gojo sighs like an old man. Mimiko and Nanako burst out into a fit of giggles. “You agree with your godfather, Satoru, right girls?”

“Godfather? Where did that come from?” You ask, scrunching up your nose.

“Well it was gonna be Suguru as mother and myself as the father but now you've taken in as their mother and Suguru as their father so I've got to take the next best thing-!”

You hit him upside his white-haired head, veins on your forehead popping out with irritation at his words. Gojo rubs the top of his head muttering something under his breath. “This is why I always stay with Utahime Senpai,” you say, making Suguru and the twins laugh.

“Get him, girl!” Geto cheers you on.

“I won't give you Nanako and Mimiko if you continue to be roommates with him,” you declare, narrowing your eyes at Geto.

“I'm renting a place outside Jujutsu Tech,” Geto confesses with a sigh.

“WHAT-?” You and Gojo both yell in shock.

“It's for the best,” He says.

“You’re taking my girls away from me!” You complain, hand on your chest. “This is so unfair, Geto-kun. How will I see them now?”

.

It's been a couple of weeks, and the twins have adjusted well to Tokyo. You've adjusted too, opting to spend your time with them rather than with anyone else. Gojo keeps teasing you relentlessly, not even bothering to stop when the teachers are around. You've grown closer to Suguru as well, spending most of your off-time with him. Shoko has become your refuge now, with Utahime leaving for Kyoto.

It's one of your lazy Sundays, and you wake from your and the twins afternoon nap. They are snuggled to either side of you, and it’s unbearably hot but you don't dare move; admiring their serene, sleeping faces. Your left eye twitched at the thought of the torture your girls were subjected to by those foolish villagers, blood boiling once again.

You reach for your phone instead, going through some old photos. You've scrolled down to when the girls were living with you, a picture of the three of you with matching white bows in your hair when the door quietly opens, and Suguru quietly enters with a pitcher of water and some glasses. He chuckles at your grateful face, pouring out some water for you. You gulp down the water, your overheated body giving out a sigh of relief when the cold water hits your stomach. 

“It's time to wake them up,” He whispers, leaning down to your laying form.

“I don't really want to,” you whisper to him, pleading, not looking away from his pretty dark eyes. “Five more minutes?”

“Okay,” He relented with a sigh, sitting beside Nanako. You think of how different he is now, different from when he is exorcising curses and when he is with Gojo. You also find yourself liking this side of him, that only his girls got to see. And you, one of his girls. 

“Have you thought about their schooling?” You ask, voice quieter than a mouse. Geto lays down, facing you.

“I’ll have them homeschooled,” He replies just as quietly, frowning.

“That’s boring,” You say. “How will they adjust to the outside world? We can’t always be with them.”

“I’m terrified of the curses getting -”

“Teach them to defend themselves, just a little.” You suggest. “You know they can’t rely on others, they will need to learn to keep each other safe.”

Nanako stirs between the two of you, mumbling a hushed “papa,” under her breath as she snuggles into Geto. You fawn all over this, his pretty eyes wide and looking at you, seeking assurance. A gentle smile graces his beautiful face as he caresses the girl’s caramel hair and you have to resist the urge to pull his silky hair out of the bun and run your fingers through them. You opt to lightly pat Mimiko’s dark head instead, and she snuggles into you mumbling, “mama,”

Admittedly, you’ve teared up a little and you excitedly turn to Geto, who is giving you his prettiest smile that you’ve ever seen. In this little moment, you can pretend to be a happy family, living in a rose-coloured dream.

.

Suguru loves spending time with his girls, and it’s even more delightful when you join in. He especially loves it now that you’ve practically moved in - the guest room slowly filling up with your scent and trinkets. He enjoys taking all of you out to different spots in the city - the parks, the malls, cute cafes and even back to Jujutsu Tech, occasionally. 

Suguru wonders if the two of you could even be friends if not for Mimiko and Nanako - just adding to a long list of things that he was grateful for from that night. Your easy smile and sparkling eyes and the way you shower his girls with your love and care just keeps on adding to all the things he admires about you. He half wishes Satoru’s mindless teasing to become a reality, but he lacks the courage.

Currently, he’s sitting on the floor with Nanako behind him, brushing his hair out and Mimiko sitting beside her twin, acting as her inventory. He’s in pure bliss, and the only thing that can make this better is your presence.

Soon enough there is a knock on the door, and Suguru feels bad for hoping it’s you. Of course, he enjoys your company, but you deserve a chance to live freely and not spend every waking hour with him. Satoru and Shoko are there instead, with amazing takeout for Friday evening.

Satoru spoils his self-proclaimed goddaughters (Suguru wouldn’t trust anyone else, either) with the best of everything. Shoko loves teaching them new things, reading, maths, curses, the human body - everything watered down to suit their tender young age.

The four of them play board games while Suguru does the laundry, putting the clothes on the drying line. Usually, you would be here helping him with the clothes, words flowing easily between the two of you. 

He's distracted from laundry when he hears Satoru call your name followed by a whistle, then yelling, “I can't really blame Suguru, you look so hot!” He hears your grumble something, and then Mimiko and Nanako’s excited cheers on your appearance. “You had a date?!” Satoru says again, his voice loud and surprised.

Suguru’s heart feels heavy, and he makes his way to the rest leaving half of the clothes in the dryer. 

“It wasn't really a date honestly.” You complain. “That guy had no manners! Chewing with his mouth open and not even using the napkins properly! And he barely asked me anything, kept on boasting about himself - it was boring.”

Suguru feels half guilty for the way his chest relaxes, but his breath is taken away as soon as he sees you - you are always beautiful, but you look especially pretty with your brown leather skirt and black jumper. Your jewellery compliments your complexion, and your hair looks perfect. And he has to agree with Satoru- you look hot.

“Where's Suguru?” You ask, looking around.

“Right here,” He says, coming to stand beside you.

He loves the way your eyes sparkle - the lids decorated to match the outfit and a delighted glimmer in your eyes.

“So, I was at the mall and this reminded me of you,” you say, picking up the paper bag on the floor beside you. “The only good thing that came from today, to be honest.”

“You were thinking of me while out with another guy?” He teases.

You get flustered, but respond “Do you want this present or not?” You try to sound stern, but you hand him the bag regardless.

The bag feels heavier than he had expected, and glances in to see the professional camera he had been eyeing for a long time but didn't buy in favour of getting Mimiko and Nanako some limited edition dolls. His pretty eyes widened with delight. “How did you know?” He asks, unable to hold back his excited smirk.

“I am not blind, you know.” You retort, happy that he loved the gift.

“What is it?” Shoko asks. Satoru snaps the bag towards himself, taking out the box of camera and different lenses. “That is one expensive investment,” she remarks.

You chose to ignore her comment, distracting everyone with the little cake you had bought. “And I've got cake!”

“Is today someone's birthday?” Mimiko asks.

“No, baby.” You say, “It's okay to have cake without any reason,”

The little girls are delighted to see the half sky and half forest cake. Neither Suguru, you or his girls have any idea as to when the exact birthday is, so you have them cut the cake together, pretending it to be their birthday. When Suguru takes the cake to the kitchen to cut it up, you follow him, leaving the twins with Shoko and Satoru.

“Suguru, you should get dressed up fancy too,” You say. “Let’s take some good pictures with our girls. I’ll cut the cake up.”

“Okay,” He agrees.

Suguru decides to match you, consciously picking pieces that compliment your outfit well. He is inappropriately fancy dressed up for this photo session. He is thrilled to use the camera you’ve gifted him, and there is no better scene to be his first than his girls(you included) and his friends. He’s brushing his hair out, putting it up in a half updo before giving himself a once-over then leaving.

He’s surprised to see Mimiko and Nanako dressed up too, sitting on either side of Satoru as Shoko and you clicked pictures on the phones. His camera is sitting on the table, still in its box. He has a child-like excitement as he opens the box and checks the lenses with it - the excitement of setting up the camera is unmatched. Even though he enjoys spoiling his girls, he cannot deny that being spoiled is a nice feeling.

Once his camera is ready, he snaps a picture of the scene - you sit between your girls now as Satoru and Shoko click pictures. The flash from the camera distracts everyone, and his eyes find yours sparkling, looking at him with the sweetest smile on your face. He cannot help but wonder how your lips would taste. Suguru smiles at you instead as you wave him over, Mimiko and Nanako between the two of you. Satoru and Shoko give him a knowing once over, the deliberate matching not missing his best friend’s six eyes.

Your hand touches his - neither of you attempting to move as Satoru clicks a picture of the four of you in Suguru’s new camera. Satoru is grinning like an idiot seeing Suguru’s blushing face, motioning Shoko to click some pictures of their idiot friend in love with his daughters’ mother. It is stupid, Gojo thinks, the way that the two of you act like an old married couple but are too terrified to confess your feelings for one another.

“Mimiko, Nanako, come here for a moment, dears,” Gojo calls them. “Suguru, Y/N, please stand closer. You aren’t rivals.”

Suguru narrows his eyes at Satoru, but doesn’t comment on it, too happy when you’ve pressed yourself at his side, your arm wrapped around his waist. He swings his arm over your shoulder and leans his head towards yours. His face burns with the soft warmth of your body pressed against him - but he holds his smile steadily, looking at the camera. He looks at your beautiful face for a moment, the serene smile on your face and he forgets all about the jerk who had taken you out.

He just prays that he gets the courage to ask you for a dinner date - perhaps before someone else snatches you out of this perfect life of his.

.

Satoru is at Suguru’s flat, spending time with the sweet little girls. Both you and Suguru had some unavoidable business to attend to - you with some curses and him with his parents - and he finally got the chance to babysit them. Satoru is currently sitting on the floor of the twin’s bedroom, with pink bows in his white hair and getting his nails painted in a pale blue colour by Mimiko and Nanako.

It's not his favourite thing for amusement, but he lets it pass. He does get why Suguru lets his girls do these things to him - they look just so precious with the little forehead creased in concentration. His mind is cooking up a scheme - a scheme which can only be fulfilled with the little one's help. It’s only with him that they address you and Suguru as mama and papa- feeling too shy to address the two of you as such face-to-face.

“Dears, do you think your papa and mama love each other?” He asks the little angels painting his nails.

The girls share a secret look with a smirk that tells Gojo everything that he needs to know. “I’ve seen papa look at mama the way Nanako looks at crepes, Gojo-sama!” Mimiko snickers. “He always has a big smile when mama is home.”

“Mama is also the same, Gojo-sama!” Nanako says. “She looks at papa the way Mimiko looks at ice-cream!”

Gojo laughs at their childish description of the two, wondering how blind you guys must be to not see that the feelings are shared.

“Gojo-sama!” Nanako jumps, excited, as she remembers something else, her caramel bob shaking. “One evening, when mama fell asleep on the sofa, papa carried her to her room. We brought her blankets and he tucked her in, but she held his hands in her sleep.”

“Yes!” Mimiko jumps up too, brown eyes gleaming with giggles. “Papa had turned so pink when Mama did that. He could barely speak.”

“That sounds familiar,” Gojo giggles with them. “Do you want to help me set-”

“Yes!” the twins shriek before he even finishes the question.

Once the three of them are done with the set up, Gojo calls Geto to let him know that he has some urgent clan business to attend to, while Mimiko calls you to tell you that Nanako had a bad dream and she misses you terribly. Both of you rush to return while Gojo and his goddaughters leave for the evening. Gojo leaves a little post-it-note on the fridge, with a brief message.

Geto has been running for 10 minutes straight, red faced and out of breath as he reaches the door of the flat. The elevator dings open and you step out, looking just as out of breath. “Did Mimiko call you too?” you ask, panting.

“No, Gojo told me he has some clan business - ” He says, taking a moment to completely process your question. “Why did Mimiko call you?”

“Nanako had a nightmare, she was asking for me only, apparently.” You say, standing beside him now. The enticing smell of your perfume fills his senses and he is grateful that his girls have you to comfort them. He too finds comfort in your presence - albeit it’s for different reasons than his girls.

When no one opens the door for a couple of minutes, you put your ear to the door and try to hear something. The house is quiet, devoid of any movements.

“I think they’ve fallen asleep.” you comment.

Geto then opens then closes the door as quietly as he can, trying not to disturb the girl’s sleep. He bumps into you standing in the hallway after taking off his shoes - only to gasp as he sees the immaculate set up in the living room. A sheer white canopy covered in fairy lights and seemingly all of the pillows and some mattresses of the house thrown in the tent - and some of his and your favourite snacks. There’s a movie paused at the beginning and red roses and candles and mild incense decorating the room. Geto blushes when he realises that it’s a set up for a date, heart pounding against his ribs in part-annoyance and part-excitement as he sees your shy face. He’s half mad at Gojo, but he can see the traces of Mimiko and Nanako as well - with the way the pillows are laid out and the flowers are placed.

Geto’s phone rings, breaking the tense silence. It’s Gojo. “Suguru! Put me on speaker!” Gojo’s excited voice says from the other end. He can hear his girls giggling in the background. 

“Fine,” Geto sighs.

“Oh hey!” you turn around on hearing Gojo call your name, face hot and worrying your lip between your teeth. “Your little girls, they thought we should let you guys have an evening to yourself - relax and watch a movie. How did you like that set up?”

“You didn’t really have to-” You start to speak as Geto rolls his eyes, fully knowing it was Gojo’s plan. He knew Gojo well.

“Nonsense, you won’t let your daughters down by saying that,” Gojo says, and Mimiko and Nanako giggle louder. “Alright, bye! Enjoy yourselves. There’s wine in the fridge, Suguru.” He says before handing up.

“I’ll get the wine,” Suguru offers. You smile at him before sitting down in the fairy-light canopy, looking much like the woman of his dreams, like a princess waiting for her prince. His heart aches, for he can’t call you his, not outside of his mind. He smiles too, pretending that it’s date-night for you.

There’s a note on the fridge in Satoru’s messy scrawl which gets his attention first. Suguru, take one for the team and ask her !!! Your daughters and friends are rooting for you. She likes you, you blind idiot. A blush colours his face as he crumples the note and throws it in the bin.

His favourite wine is in the fridge, and Suguru is half surprised at Satoru’s thoughtfulness. He pours out two glasses and brings them to you, the bottle left back in the fridge. “Wine for you, ma’am,” he says, and you get the cutest blush on your face as you accept the glass, humming in delight at the taste. He follows your stead and lazily relaxes against the mountain of pillows under the canopy.

“What’s this movie?” You ask, fidgeting with the remote.

“I have no idea,” He says, praying that Satoru doesn’t embarrass him.

The movie begins with the main character, the girl getting ready to go work. It seemed like a cheesy hollywood christmas movie at the beginning, where the girl would be frustrated with her job and go to her small town and never return. That would have been better, in hindsight. Because as the movie progresses, and the love interest comes in - a single father, who had to send his daughter into foster care because he was wrongfully accused of embezzlement - the foster parent being the main character. The girl testifies for him in court while she lives with a new normal - caring for the love interest’s daughter as her own.

Suguru's face burns with how similar the movie is to you and him - he can barely even look at the screen. While the movie played, he subconsciously reached towards you, your warm cheek now resting against his shoulder. It’s hard for him to ignore it now that he realises that this movie was a deliberate selection, and the comment in the note about him being blind. 

Suguru steals a quick glance at you, finding you looking at the screen with a little smile, cuddling one of the bigger pillows. You seem totally unaffected by the movie. “It’s so cute,” you murmur. 

“Hm?” he prompts.

“The story,” you say, glancing up at him then back at the screen. 

“Would it be cute if it were real?” he asks, heart pounding against his ribcage.

“Even cuter,” you nod, cheek moving against his shoulder.

His heart threatens to crawl out of his throat at the admission. He eyes the two hands, one his and the other yours - so close but not touching, afraid to cross that invisible boundary which has built over time. He dares now, for once to cross that boundary, to test the waters and puts his pinky finger over yours, interlocking them. He can feel your smile get wider as his heart nearly makes a hole in his ribs.

You take it a step further and intertwine your hands with his.

“I love the way your hand fits in mine,” he says after a long tense silence, sounding breathier than usual.

“You have nice hands,” you shyly say.

It brings him confidence, the way you say it. Emboldened, he turns to face you and wraps his free arm over your waist, pulling you closer. His nose touches your forehead and he inhales the smell of your shampoo, never tired of smelling it in the pillowcases of your room. He lowers himself to your eye level, stroking your cheekbone. “Would let me kiss you?” he whispers to your lips.

“Always,” you whisper, parting your lips to welcome him.

The kiss is everything he could have imagined and more. It’s pure bliss, the way your mouth slots against his and the way to taste better than he could have possibly imagined. Of course, you have always been pretty, but he found you the most beautiful in this moment, in his arms, with your soft tongue fighting against his. His brain has short circuited and he fears that he might get addicted to your taste. He chases your mouth when you pull away to catch your breath, letting go of the intertwined hands that had sweat in the heat of the moment.

Suguru misses your lips instantly, scanning your face for any signs of regret or discomfort. You place one of your hands on his neck, reach the back of it and caress the delicate spot where his hair ends, and a gasp leaves his mouth at the sensation. You put your other hand on his collar and pull him close, his face dragging against the soft pillows and you kiss him. This kiss is much more desperate than the first one, with your teeth occasionally crashing and tongues exploring, the movie long forgotten still playing on the screen.

When you’re both out of breath, you pull back, still breathing the same air and noses touching.

“It was the best fucking kiss of my life,” Suguru confesses, sounding out of breath.

“Mine too,” you say.

He doesn’t want you to think that it was a spur of the moment thing, so he puts on his serious face and says, “Would you like to go out for dinner with me? As more than co-parents?” 

“I thought you’d never ask,” you reply with a giggle.

“Dress fancy,” He says. “Let’s go.”

“Now?” you ask.

“Why wait ?” he shrugs.

“I don’t have - ”

“You do,” he says, shy. “I had got something for you a while back, but never mustered up the courage to give it to you.”

You sit up, looking down at him with an excited gleam in your eyes. “You’ve gotten me an outfit for our first gate, it seems like you were prepared.”

“I swear to you that I wasn’t.” He says. “Just try it once.”

The dress Suguru brought compliments your figure and complexion well, and you’re surprised to see that it fits perfectly. You uber to a fancy place, and with the man on your side, this is the most perfect first date ever. The maroon dress hugs your figure in the right places, and you feel giddy knowing that Suguru had bought this lovely dress with you in mind. 

He looks even prettier today, sitting in front of you as your date, dressed in an equally fancy maroon suit. You take plenty of pictures with him, distracted by his long silky hair in a half-up, half-down look. You can barely process the food, distracted by the beautiful man in front of you taking in the way he talks. The way he says your name, almost purring, has you wanting to throw your feet and giggle like a little girl.

Suguru isn’t better off himself. Of course, he loves the way his name rolls off your tongue, but right now dressed in the dress he bought for you, sitting in front of him with flushed cheeks, the delicate smile never leaving your face as you speak has his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. He finally has you with him the way he had been wanting for years, finding you pretty even when you were both mere acquaintances. 

He cannot wait to call you his, but he supposes he’ll save that question for the next date - for you to give this relationship a name. In his head, he is already yours - heart, mind and soul - the only question bugging him is whether you want to be his. That’s a worry for later, he thinks, as he plants a delicate kiss on your lips as the long evening comes to an end.

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Finals

Propaganda Under Cut

Sakura Haruno

Her husband is gay and her author doesn't know how to write women. So many people say she's the worst but she. DESERVES. BETTER!!! Save her from this franchise.

My baby girl my bestie my best friend. She committed the crime of um being written by kishimoto who both doesn’t know how to write women and somehow writes men in the gayest way possible specifically naruto and sasuke. Like the thing is naruto and sasuke ARE gay and also she gets so much hate for the crime of kishimoto writing her one dimensionally in love with sasuke. I know her personally she is a butch lesbian to me just trust me she’s in love with Ino and has a lesbian thing going on with Karin okay just trust me. My everything. She needs to divorce the loveless lavender marriage she’s in 

What is there to say, even? The OG Threat to my 90s anime brain, the only woman I've ever hated with such a passion she made me turn away from the color pink. I used to write fics with my friend where she got left behind on purpose so our OCs could join the Naruto and Sasuke team instead. I loathed this bitch until I was 16 and realized the author simply couldnt write women and decided it was time to make peace with Sakura. It is not her fault she's vaguely written and obsessive over Sasuke. She deserves better. Sasuke and Naruto still should be together and Sakura shouldnt be with Sasuke but I no longer believe this because I hate Sakura, it is because I love her. She deserves a spouse who will actually put in the time to treat her like the hero she is.

Misa Amane

she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.

she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!

Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime

[maelancoli]

PADDING OUT DIALOGUE SCENES

in another round of very unprompted writing advice i thought i figured i'd share my two cents when it comes to the topic of struggling to fill out conservational scenes. another thing i see a LOT of lately is a general fretting among writers who find that dialogue comes easily to them but the rest is a struggle. for me it's often been the opposite, i had to work at honing the talking part but description? i've always done a little too much tbqh. but funny enough the solution for both is not disconnected.

a lot of it will come down to knowing your character. what are their ticks? what are their filler words? are they bold and expressive when they're speaking? or are they withdrawn and shy? deciding the behavioral quirks of your character will improve your instincts when trying to be more descriptive. do they fidget with their clothes? do they pick up objects and toy with them? do they fold their arms around themselves or have other defensive posture? where do their eyes go when they speak? do they look around a lot? do they have an intense, unwavering gaze? do they zone out to look at other objects? what are they looking at when they do look away to think or listen? (this is also where having a faceclaim to build characteristics and mannerisms around can be helpful, not just in rp settings but any kind of fiction.)

"i guess...i don't really know how i'm supposed to feel about it," he admitted.

okay so we already have information here to expound on. the character is uncertain and conflicted. how would that effect their demeanor outwardly?

"i guess..." he trailed off with a sigh. he shook his head and his gaze grew unfocused, wandering away from his companion to stare blankly at a clock on the mantelpiece. his index finger tapped lightly at his knee. "i don't know how i'm supposed to feel about it, ya' know?" amir admitted with a shrug. he finally looked at the other man again, but there was a vulnerability which brought a sheepish shadow to his tumultuous gaze.

we've shown he is pensive with a wandering eye and that he's a little uncomfortable with his nervous tick of tapping. the next step is to consider the inner workings of their PoV. what does the scene itself call for them to be doing and thinking between lines? what does the emotion and tension of the scene—or even the comfort and familiarity of it—reflect inside them?

"you don't have to know right now," malik pointed out. he lifted his hands from where they had rested on the surface of the table to turn his palms outward, leaning in closer. "it's okay not to know." they held one another's gaze for a silent moment. amir's lips pressed together and he swallowed down the lump which had formed in his throat. he was not an emotional man. he had always prided himself on his restraint. but it was all beginning to be too much and the empathy in his friend's eyes was only another weight upon his already bowed shoulders. "...maybe you're right," he mumbled thoughtfully.

here we have shown his friend's gesture, adding more presence to the environment around them. and then we have given a little space for the character to feel. we have given a little information about who he is, or at least how he thinks about himself. by bringing his eyes back to his companion we have shown he is opening up, he is actually leaning into the intimacy of comfort and listening. but the mumble shows he is still not confident in admitting the need for help. it shows he has not even accepted fully the grace he's being given.

it isn't just what a character is saying, it's how they're saying it. it's how they're carrying themselves. it's how they're receiving the other characters' words. and showing how they're carrying themselves along with their inner feelings will also help show what is driving their dialogue. it will create a contrast if they're not being a reliable narrator, if they're contradicting or if they're withholding etc.

taking time and being patient with yourself to expound upon these things and to develop your character will make them more real. the more you practice and get to know them, the more instinctive and natural it will become!

[nrdmssgs]

Honestly need some nikto being violently concerned over readers health after they came home from a bar all far too loopy and delirious to be normal drunk if you're comfortable with that if you're not that's fine

Masterlist I hope, I got you right.

TW: mention of drug poisoning (no graphical depictions)

He never questioned your loyalty. Nikto may be a territorial animal, but he never doubted you. Others however...

"He-heeey, `m fine! C-can do it on my own," you babble, as you push away his hands and try to untie your shoelaces. If he was concerned before, just witnessing you entering home - now Nikto starts seeing red.

Because how you move and talk is so not you. Nikto saw you tipsy before, once you two even had obviously too much, and he remembered, how you were back then. Silly, yes, soft and mushy, a tad bratty, tired, but still crazy - this all was natural. And now a strange shiver runs all over your body every five minutes.

Oh no, this is not an early hungover. This and the fact, that you spent the last 15 minutes sitting in a hallway, untying and tying your shoes again and again. He sighs and descends on his knees before you. Catches your hands and presses his lips against your knuckles.

"I will help, little one."

You manage exactly one sound: a weak little mewl of protest. But Andre slowly shakes his head, looking you in the eyes and repeats: I. Will. Help.

You finally give in under his intense, and, for a reason unknown to you, concerned gaze. His movements are so careful as if hes undressing a porcelain doll. You smile and giggle, asking him to stop tickling you every time his fingers clasp around your ankles.

It breaks his heart, because he actually barely touched you. Your senses are a mess, your body is not ok, your mind... And what is about your mind?

"Sokrovishche*, tell me, how the evening went? Had fun?" Nikto is a shitty actor, his voice barely masks the fact, that he can barely think straight himself. But you seem to not notice that, because you answer lightheartedly, while he carries you to the bedroom.

Your story is hectic, and the jerky narration doesn't help it: you jump from one topic to another, mix up names and facts. But it's your sincerity that tears him apart - you're not trying to trick Nikto, you're confused and lost.

There is one particular detail reappearing in your story: a guy. You try and try again to remember his face or the name at least, but fail and start worrying.

"It's ok, if you don't remember. Tell us, what you've been drinking, mm? Something tasty?"

Tell us. A bad omen. A terrible one. It's been a while since the last time, the voices have woken up. But you miss this detail, as you miss every second word shared now.

"A glass of wine. Then a glass of water, then again the wine, the same one. After that I got thirsty once again, asked for water, he brought me a bottle, it was sealed, I remember. And then... And then I d-d-ont..." Your eyes widen slowly.

Niktos jaw clenches, a cold light grows stronger deep in pale blue eyes. That scum. Sealed bottles? So he cooks a batch prior to his night out, somewhere in his place...

"Andre, did I?... How long? What did he..." You can't finish any question, your tongue suddenly feels too big and heavy to form a full sentence. In a desperate attempt to catch a breath, you take an inhale, but your breaths grow ragged. Not even noticing this, you start hyperventilating.

He gathers you into his arms, engulfs your body in a warm embrace, hides your face on his chest and softly rocks you back and forth, helping you find a soothing breathing rhythm.

"Vsye khorosho, sokrovishche. You're safe, we promise. No bruises left. He didn't touch you."

When Nikto touches his lips to your forehead, it’s so gentle and careful, one wouldn't believe, such a beast is capable to be this soft. He is easing you into the feel of him as his hands, holding you steady. There may be no bruises, but there can still be other things, your mind has blocked, but your body remembers.

He rocks you against him, breathing in time with him, the measure of his heart a steady clip that you can follow with measured steps. He and every voice awaken thank any gods out there, for you don't tense up, squirm and run from his touch. That gives him hope, that the fucker really didn't manage to do anything.

"We will protect my little treasure." He slowly helps you out of your clothes. It's not an act of seduction, but pure manifestation of care.

"We will calm our little one, take all her worries, guard her in her sleep." Warm lips on the back of your neck. Yet again: this is not a foreplay - it is Andre giving you all the care he has. Anything soft, that he is capable of in this deep mad state of mind, belongs to you.

He takes your worries away, lulls you to sleep, interlocking his fingers with yours, buries his face in your hair, letting you drown in his deep bitterish scent and find your peace in his hands.

Nikto may be a crooked soul, a mind damaged, torn to pieces, but for you he will turn into a bastion against all the darkness in the world.

When he is sure, you're deep in your dreams and nothing bothers you anymore - Nikto vanishes for a few hours.

He rarely uses this set, but there is, in fact, an all black tactical attire in his wardrobe. There is rarely a good reason to take it on, but today is the day. Darker wet stains on black won't draw too much attention in the first lights of the dawn.

You wake in a bed that feels too empty and slowly realize, what have happened. What might have happened after you fell asleep. You wait him out, perched on the edge of your seat, watching him shuck off his gear in a deafening silence.

His mind is still out there. Each glance on you feels like he’s entered a prizefighting ring, and you’re the opponent he needs to face off with next. His jaw works, a muscle ticking, and with that particular, quiet sort of menace he’s just so good at leveraging, he holds out a hand for you to come to him. “He won't ever trouble you again.” Level. More controlled than you expected.

Nikto holds back, not letting himself slide his fingers up your arms and thus leave blood strains on your perfect skin. Never. Never should a blood of such a scum besmear his treasure.

Leave the blood of those who wronged you for his hands.

Sokrovishche - treasure

Vsye khorosho, sokrovishche - everything's allright, treasure

[shadowed-dancer]

Villains and Their Fates - A Tragedy Would Have Been Fine By Me

I've seen a lot of people who try to write off frustration with the league's fates by saying "you just wanted them to survive" or "you're just upset your favourite character died". And while that may be true for a few people, I know that it's at least not true for myself (which must mean there are others who feel the same way). So today I'm here to share my thoughts. Despite liking the villains and wanting them to be redeemed, I was also willing to accept a well written ending if they died. I just wanted to ramble a bit about the three main villains (mostly Toga) and how I felt a tragic ending could have been improved.

The only villain I felt should have lived is Dabi, but that's more because of the awkwardness his unconfirmed death caused for Shoto (read this beautifully written analysis for more). If Dabi had to die, he should have died on the battle field OR in the hospital surrounded by family where he gets a few last words in. Leaving his fate unconfirmed leads to the ruined Shoto arc, but is also just weird for a character who has existed for so long. You're telling me that even Overhaul gets a confirmed ending but DABI doesn't?

I've also talked a bit about how Endeavor's survival ruins the subplot, and in 426 he continues by making Touya's final appearance about him (rather than the two brothers) but that's something I've talked about too much. If Endeavor has to be alive and hogging screen time, the least Hori could do is imply Touya will survive rather than die, so at least Enji isn't literally stealing time from his other family members to have some interaction with Touya.

If Touya has to end up in that machine, an ideal ending would have been the doctor saying "it will be a gruelling and near-impossible uphill climb to recovery" and then Shoto can smile and say "he's done it before". Boom. Simple as that. Leave it open, but at least on a positive note so we can assume that the family will have plenty of time to reconcile, as opposed to an unknown (but limited) amount of time that Enji vows to use to talk to him (yeah I know it's supposed to be a sweet gesture but even Touya calls bullshit on it). Let Shoto and Touya eat their soba, damn it!

For Shigaraki, my grievances extend to the writing of the entire final battle between him and Deku. As such, I don't have much to say aside from that because it really is just a product of poor writing. Neither were really allowed to talk before the big moment (hell, the vestiges were narrating Deku's emotions half the time like "he must be upset, this quirk meant so much to him". Why not let him tell us???) and the back-and-forth of Shigaraki being destroyed and then not only to be destroyed again was too much. It felt sloppy and hard to follow, and once you figured it out it just felt dumb. It's as if each chapter needed some massive reveal, but the story had done it so much at this point that it just felt tired and like it was happening "because Hori said so", and that should never be what drives a story.

Speaking of "because Hori said so"...

Oh Toga. Out of all the villains, I actually liked her confrontation the most. (Lies. If Dabi vs Shoto was the end of Dabi's fight, THAT would have been the best. But the Endeavor fight ruins it). Despite having limited screen time, Toga and Uraraka had a surprisingly well-built dynamic. Their few interactions were actually meaningful and created a strong foundation for a fight, and at the very least they had more of a personal connection than Deku and Shigaraki ever did. I think that Toga giving her blood to someone she loves (as opposed to drinking/taking their blood like she had said the whole series) is a beautifully tragic end to her character, but still something that could have fit.

To me, the problem comes with how she died. Let me replay the scene for you: Toga stabs Uraraka in the stomach and Uraraka bleeds too much because she keeps moving around. Toga then realizes she doesn't want Uraraka to die. To save her life, Toga has to do a blood transfusion with herself as a donor and she dies because she has to give ALL her blood.

Now... sure. Ok. Fine. Yeah. Maybe by real-world logic this makes sense. I guess. Whatever. But within the world of MHA, this setup is laughable.

Here's a list of things characters survived (or at least, they survived LONG ENOUGH to get to a hospital rather than dying on the battlefield): Deku shattering his bones with 1 million percent, whatever happened to Best Jeanist when AFO attacked him, Nighteye getting a massive spike through the torso, All Might with "his entrails strewn across the ground", Bakugo becoming Swiss cheese, Grand Torino being punched so hard a crater forms beneath him, Touya being a literal flaming skeleton, Bakugo's heart exploding, Edgeshot becoming a worm. Mirko getting a limb ripped off and then running full speed at Shigaraki. That's just off the top of my head, I know there's probably more.

But you want to tell me that Uraraka getting stabbed and then moving was a fatal wound that required ALL TOGA'S BLOOD? ALL OF IT? The reason Toga's death bothers me is that the setup cheapens the actual moment of sacrifice. It feels preventable, so when she tells us that Uraraka is going to die without her blood, all I could do is roll my eyes because I'm not allowed to use critical thinking skills, I have to just accept what Hori says and take it at face value.

If the author wants you to live as Edgeworm despite saying you were gonna die, you can. But if the author needs a stab wound to be fatal and require ALL of someone's blood? Well tough luck bud, that's just how it goes. Mirko can run and move all she wants after having a limb ripped off, but moving a bit after one stab wound is fatal. Why? Because I say so.

If Uraraka's wound was actually serious then this ending would have been a beautiful tragedy. But as it stands now, the ridiculousness of her wound makes it all feel preventable.

Oh, there's also the fact that Toga switching blood types when she transforms was never established, but I've rambled enough.

That's it. Thanks for reading!

[truly-neutral-art]

Din/Luke Pacific Rim AU pt.2

Pt.1 | Pt.3 | Pt.4

Another addition to this AU because It's been living in my head rent free for ages. I can't do a Pacific Rim AU without recreating the iconic Kwoon scene. Also, I was too lazy to draw backgrounds so I just stole them from the movie  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Under the cut is a teaser of the fic I'm trying to write. It's a first draft, so there's probably some mistakes. Also, I'm still kind of in Screen Writing mode from school, so please don't mind if there's not a lot of internal character narration.

“Four points to two,” Luke calls after the final candidate falls. His emotions are carefully masked on his face but Din can see how tense he is. 

“We’re wasting time, Marshal. He’s barely compatible with any of them, this isn’t going to work,” Luke says.

“What do you suggest?” The Marshal raises a brow. 

“Put me in charge, I’m drift compatible with several cadets. We don’t need him.” Luke gestures towards Din. The look on his face makes Din’s blood boil. Contempt. What did he ever do to Luke to earn this?

“What’s your problem, Skywalker?” Din stomps towards the edge of the mat. 

“I’ve already told you, I don’t think you're the right man for the job,” Luke replies. He’s now turned squarely towards Din, his face back to that eerie calm. It sends a shiver down Din’s spine. 

“No, there’s more. You’ve got a problem with me.” Din steps closer, trying to ignore the piercing blue of Luke’s eyes. 

“Enough! both of you.” Marshal Skywalker turns to them both. 

“If you think you’re so much better, then let’s go.” Din points his bō at Luke. “If you win, you can pilot the Crest. If I win, you back off.” Din holds Luke's gaze, projecting his challenge. 

“Neither of you are in the position to make that decision,” Anakin states, breaking the spell. 

“What? Think your own blood isn’t good enough to beat me?” Din didn’t know Marshal Skywalker that well, but from what he did know, the man was prideful. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest move, but it got him what he wanted. 

The Martial turned towards Luke, earning his attention. No words were exchanged between them, the Martial simply gave a nod. A brief look of satisfaction washed over Luke’s face. Din turned towards the mat to prepare for the fight before Luke’s eyes turned back to him. 

Luke stepped to the edge of the mat, shoes and outer shirt removed. He bowed at the waist before stepping forward. He was in a simple black tank top and the standard cargo pants. It was the first time Din had seen any of his skin exposed beyond his face. His arms and neck were covered in pale, lightning-like scars that looked like they extended beyond what Din could see. He wasn’t sure what to make of them. He knew almost nothing about Luke when he really thought about it. Only what he heard from the news from the past four years.

He had to admit, it made him earn a little more respect for the kid. At first he’d seemed like a petulant child who was getting his favorite toy taken away, but now, Din wasn’t as sure that was the case. He had no more time to think on it as he and Luke passed each other on the mat, walking to opposite sides, then turning to face each other. 

In the blink of an eye Luke swung his bō with the finesse of a warrior. He moved forward before stopping in the middle of the mat as he pulled his bō up in defense. Din followed suit, taking on a more aggressive starting position. He could tell Luke was analyzing him, eyes flitting around to every point of his body. Din took the opportunity to attack. In one swift moment he had his bō mimicking a strike at Luke’s skull. 

“One, Zero.” The words had barely left his mouth before Luke made a counter attack. In a flash Luke had reversed their positions with a satisfied smirk. 

Without wasting any more time the two began to fight again in an explosion of movement. The people in the kwoon reacted to them, but Din’s focus narrowed in until it was only them in the room. He watched Luke’s movements carefully, anticipating and blocking every attack that came and returning his own. He picked up on a franticness in Lukes’s movements and took advantage, landing an attack on his ribs. 

“You’re too eager, you’re projecting your moves,” Din commented as they reset. 

“I don’t need your advice.” Despite his words, Luke waited, ready for Din’s next move. 

Luke swiftly blocked everything Din threw at him and pushed back even harder. In the next moment Luke attacked with a flurry of blows, catching Din off guard. He was stronger than he looked. 

“Two, two.” Luke had once again evened the score. 

There was barely a pause before they were at it again. This bout lasted longer than the others, both having picked up on each other’s gambit. They danced around each other, the only sound in Din’s ears were the clacking of their bō staffs and their heavy breathing. Neither was holding back. 

In a blur of motion Luke darted towards Din’s legs, throwing him off balance. Din rolled out of the throw but as he lifted his head he was met with Luke’s bō to his throat. Luke's eyes were no less intense this close. 

“Two, Three.” Luke stepped back into a ready position. “Better watch out, Djarin.” There was a satisfied smirk on his face. He was winning. Din wouldn’t give up that easily. 

He pulled out every trick he had, but Luke seemed to always be a step ahead. He was too fast, almost as if he could read Din’s mind. From the outside it would almost look like this was rehearsed. In the end, it was Din’s weight advantage that won him the point. He moved in close and pinned Luke's arm before throwing him down to the mat. The blond hit the ground on his back, breath escaping his lungs from the impact. 

Din almost went to help him up but Luke threw his legs backwards into a handstand before standing back up. He barely looked affected, the only sign of fatigue on him was the sweat on his forehead that matted down his blond hair. 

“Three, Three,” Din called. “And there’s no need to show off.” 

The next point would declare a winner. There was a smile on Luke’s face, different from the ones before. This one was more open, leaving Din feeling dizzy instead of insulted. 

Din tried to understand it but there was no more time to ponder as Luke set on his next attacks. He was more aggressive than he’d been the rest of the fight but Din pushed back, not without some difficulty. Luke danced around Din with a frightening agility. The only thing that kept Din in the fight for so long were his reflexes. He knew he had to end this fight soon or Luke would eventually wear him down. 

In a decisive move Din attacked at Luke’s head, trading off his defense for offense. He had Luke on the move, nearly pushing him off the mat. However, before he could land a finishing blow Luke darted to the side, slipping his leg between Din’s and toppling him to the floor. When Din processed what happened, he was pinned under Luke’s hips on his chest and his bō at his neck. 

Cheers erupted from the gathered crowd, but Din’s view had narrowed into Luke as he stood up. Din stayed on the ground, still a bit stunned from the end of the fight. He wasn’t really sure how to feel about its outcome. But one thing was for certain, he and Luke were drift compatible. Very drift compatible. 

Din was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t even realize Luke was reaching down to him until his hand was in his face. He took it and allowed Luke to help him to his feet. 

“You felt it too, didn’t you?” Luke asked.

“Yeah.”

[erinwantstowrite]

hi! hope your having a good day/night/timezone/etc.! u got any writing tips (like how to not lose motivation/use up as much of it as u can while u have it, any ways to get the words flowing/“get in the writing mood” that have worked for u) for any of ur fellow fic writers? (idk if this’s been asked b4 (it seems like a common question lmao), but if it has, ‘pologies, lolol ^^)

i have a few that i've been thinking up to try and post!!

remember that you aren't on a deadline to write, and to take the time you need. no one wants to read something you rushed, let alone do YOU want to read it. and it REALLY matters if you love what you're writing. you'll kill your motivation trying to keep up with something like that!! if you only had time to write 300 or you had a great day and wrote like 3000, you're doing great either way!!!

there's a lot to keep up with when you're writing, and you have to remember and understand all of it. if you're trying to write while you're tired/upset/etc, you'll likely end up with something you're not that proud of. (granted, art is art, and sometimes these emotions can create something beautiful or meaningful). take metal breaks so you can come back to your work with a fresh mind, and don't overexert yourself. you'll remember and understand more if you treat your writing time like you would when you're studying. sometimes i make flashcards to remember characters, places, events, etc.

sometimes i can get too analytical with my writing, or it starts to become flat? if that makes sense? meaning, like... i'm putting words on paper rather than delving into the story. too many "they felt this way" and not enough "Character A turns to face the man that had changed their entire life with the single shot of a bullet, careless to what damage he could have caused. It's haunting to see that the man is simply that: a man. Not a monster as they had imagined, laying awake at night and wondering what their father had seen in his final moments. He's just a man." what helps with this is putting myself into the shoes of a narrator, remembering that i am telling the story as if i already know what's happening (even if I don't know where I'm going with a scene yet). i imagine that my reader is right there next to me and i'm telling them the story in real time like we're sitting around a campfire telling ghost stories, or that i'm the quirky narrator of a book they just picked up.

During times where i'm losing inspiration or feel like i'm in a loop, i like to go back to my favorite medias and spend some time with them. i recently rewatched Gravity Falls, the Sea Beast, and the Adam Project, and it was a fun mental break that got me into the writing mood. i try to find similar media to what i'm writing at that time. if i want a scene focused on funny banter or a comedic effect, i read or watch comedy. if i want to write a scary scene, i'll watch a horror movie. etc etc. "studying" your favorite media and putting yourself into your fav writer's writing shoes is a great way to improve your own writing. think about why that joke was funny, what the set up was that made it that way, and if it would have been a different joke if another character said it (Gravity Falls is one of the best media you can use for this, but really, reading mysteries in general can help)

physical exercise, if you can. getting your blood flowing and treating your body well!! when i was in band, we used to do "body warm ups" set to music, and i still do them to this day. it gets me awake and alert while also letting me listen to fun music before i write

[last-flight-of-fancy]

hi hello i hope you don't mind but Special Interest Infodump Mode has been activated please keep hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times-

this explanation comes to us courtesy of Dark Road! You know, that cutesy little mobile game where literally the whole cast except the two protagonists dies. This is on brand bc the explanation has it's own fridge horror levels to it if i think too hard about it tbh.

So, worlds have hearts. We've known this since KH1, seen what happens to a world that loses its heart, and how they can be affected. It's rarely been expounded on beyond that however, aside vague allusions to the titular Kingdom Hearts being/harboring the Heart of All Worlds.

(which has. other implications now that i think about it but that's stepping into theorising territory. im sorry im trying really hard to stay on track honest)

fast forward to Dark Road, where we have a bunch of kids venturing out into the worlds for the first time, and as such have to have things explained to them (and thus the audience). NOW i will note here that KH looooooves unreliable narrators and characters imparting incorrect information without knowing it, so there is always the possibility that this could later turn out to be wrong, but currently I see no reason this would be the case and thus for now i feel safe in taking their words at face value unless otherwise contradicted.

Why are there no people? Because each world is alive, and after the Keyblade War sundering THE World into MANY Worlds, each needed to recover and restore what was lost; life, time, movement.

This bit here is important, bc as a result

All of this is the direct result of the Keyblade War of old. Even after so much time, the bits of worlds are *still* recovering, and I do think there's something to be said about how like... the repition between worlds and their apparent stagnation often *stops* after Sora visits them. I don't think it's because Sora's special(tm), but rather just because of who he is; the Dark Road kids are told never to interfere, and as a result the worlds they visit that Sora also visits later are exactly the same to Sora as they were 80+ years before.

But when Sora visits the same world only a short time after his first visit, things CHANGE. Hercules' story moves forward, Simba is having a crisis about being king, Jack Skellington has learned his lesson about Christmas and is on to new shenanigans. And that's only in kh2! in kh3 we see Twilight Town fill with people, barren Olympus expands into a full town (and there's more there too with BBS and how the Wayfinder Trio may have been Olympus' start towards restoring itself completely, and Sora's later arrival more speeding things along)

my point here is *connections*, which is a consistant and overarching theme of the series. Empty worlds are baby worlds, still healing and restoring from being broken away from the rest, and what helps along that healing? Being connected to others.

Which is to say that the keyblade weilder's doctrine of 'do not interfere' while most certainly well-intentioned (as Dark Road also points out, one persons darkness is anothers light, and morality is not a solid truth across worlds, so interfering is risky at best and dangerous at worst), the flip side to this is that without being connected, without that ''interferance'', the world's restoration stagnates and struggles. It will still get there eventually (the Tangled world seems to be doing alright for example), but chances are it might've been a little easier/faster if someone had done a little interfering.

tldr keyblade war broke the worlds and reset them all to zero. As the worlds heal time stops until it's People finally pop back into existance and their stories can resume. And that's how the invisible crowds in early kh games are canon.

[ode2rin]

HELP OF ALL SONGS WHY DID YOU GO WITH THE LAST TIME FOR THAT KAISER ANGST it's my favorite i can't do this mimi

PLS DON'T LISTEN TO YOUR REPLIES !!! IT DOESN'T NEED A COMFORT PART 2 do you know what it needs? reader's pov 🙏🏻 because i am certain kaiser fucked up so good (i'm a kasier kisser believe me) to the point that we can't take him back ;)

you get me anon 🫱🏻‍🫲🏻 i shrieked when i read this in my inbox. i'm hearing you out so here it goes !! (thanks for sending this, i needed a distraction after my previous exam soooo a kaiser angst might just be the best kind of distraction :D)

content/warnings. reader's pov of this (or the break up) | hints of a toxic relationship | heavy in narration !

you can’t say you didn’t see this coming.

you would be lying not to admit that you could sense the storm brewing long before it arrived, an ache that had been etched into your soul from the moment you fell under the spell of those mischievous blue eyes and enchanting smiles.

the world warned you, voices of reason echoing through the corridors of your mind. tabloids whispered tales of heartbreak, fans shared cautionary tales, and even ness, who knew kaiser better than anyone, tried to shield you from the impending storm.

they told you loving michael kaiser wasn’t for the weak. and you shrugged that off, because you know you weren’t one.

now, sitting in the balcony of your new apartment, your phone clenched in your hand, a message arrives from a familiar sender.

you know this all too well. and it reads heartbreak in every word, over and over again.

my mihya: i have a game tomorrow. would you come? my mihya: please come.

loving michael kaiser wasn't for the weak, and you thought you understood what they meant but you didn't. it wasn't just about being strong — it was about the insidious way his love eroded your defenses, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

in those three haunting moments when michael kaiser arrived unannounced at your doorstep, exuding remorse with every fiber of his being, you had to clench your jaw so tight just not to tell him to come inside.

and every time he calls asking to see you once more, you grasped your phone as if it were a lifeline, the weight of your wounded pride pressing into your trembling hands.

with each time he does ask to try again, it takes everything in you to hold a yes that teetered on the precipice of your lips. it wasn't because you didn't love him, but because you knew all too well that kaiser excelled at chasing you when it was already too late.

it was as though he had finally paid attention to your place in his life, but by then it was too late, you’re too broken to grasp on.

don’t get it wrong, he did love you. fiercely, madly, deeply so. he loved you.

only in his terms, that is.

he loves you when it was convenient, when it was easy. he loves you when he stood high above everyone else, and come moments that he faltered, he dragged you into his lowest of lows.

and you. you accepted that.

accepting a love (if you could even call it one) like that?

it was consuming. such love painted vibrant hues of ecstasy, only to wield the darkest shade of anguish.

and yet again, we really do accept the love we think we deserve.

you spent two years of your life believing love came with thorns. you gave him all of your best, your endless empathy. gave him so much, but it wasn’t enough.

no, it was never enough.

it wasn’t all rain and storms. you had your better days. and when it was good, it was good.

but a few fleeting highs couldn't erase the moments when he tore you down, belittled your dreams, ridiculed your love like you’d always be around.

so, you ran.

was it the bravest thing you've ever done? these days, it's harder to convince yourself that you made the right choice.

to say you miss him is an underwhelming elucidation of what you feel. michael kaiser is written all over you. you feel him everywhere of you. his presence lingers within, haunting you.

and there are nights, that fuck, all you want to do is pick up the phone and have him near, even if that means risking another goodbye.

but leaving… you know it was for the best.

when you think of those destructive nights of 4 am, standing before a mirror seeing the permanent damage of loving a man who didn’t know what he had when he had it, you know it was for the best.

i did the right thing.

you can’t take him back. you can’t do that to yourself again, not anymore. you can’t go through another night of stifling your sobs, grieving for your partner when he’s right beside you. 

grieving for what could have been if he were a better man. if he loved you the way he loved his fame and glory. if he loved you like how your heart ached to be held.

but as they say, one should wait for the right man, but never should one wait for one man to be the right one.

and you refuse to be the casualty of a love that was never meant to be, the collateral damage in his pursuit of self-glory.

1:03 AM [xxx-xxx-810]: i have a game tomorrow. would you come? [xxx-xxx-810]: please come. 3:35 AM you: i hope you win, kaiser.

so, you hold on to your pride, because these days, it’s all you had left.

[sunvylovebug]

Love garden

↬ Warnings: No warnings …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

↬ Female!Reader and person narration (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

↬ Author Note: I love Diluc<3 I've written some other stuff with Genshin characters, you can check it out on my profile if you're interested<3

↬ Summary: The uncrowned king of Mondstadt has begun to develop feelings for his childhood friend.

↬ Word Count: 1,003 Words

Since childhood, Y/N and Diluc had been inseparable. They grew up together in Mondstadt, sharing games, secrets and adventures in every corner of the city. Their friendship was as solid as iron, forged by years of laughter and loyalty, of promises and memories, of good and bad times together, little adventures and tons of love and care for each other.

As time went by, they both had to take separate ways, separating for a while, but even after so long their hearts were still connected, it was impossible to break a connection that had prevailed alive for so many years after all.

While Diluc, after years of being away from the nation, assumed his role as the owner of the Dawn Winery in the mornings and the enigmatic, mysterious and heroic Dark Knight Hero of Mondstadt in the evenings, Y/N found her own purpose after studying at the Akademiya of Sumeru, returning to Mondstadt to tend to a small garden that had been built in the heart of the city.

One day, while Y/N was in her garden arranging the flowers and making sure everything was in order, Diluc appeared unexpectedly. Although his face showed a serious expression, there was a soft intensity in his eyes that Y/N had not seen in a long time. "Y/N, I've been thinking about you." Diluc said, slowly approaching. "Can I stay with you for a moment?"

Y/N looked at him with curiosity and a slight smile on her lips. The garden had always been her place of peace, the place where everything seemed more pleasant, more simple and peaceful, Diluc's presence made it even more special. "Of course, Diluc. You're always welcome here."

He sat near her, on a small bench of the place, watching how she worked with delicacy and mastery on her plants, she already had a good time taking care of this place. A pleasant silence formed between them, interrupted only by the occasional birdsong and the soft rustling of the leaves as they moved in the wind.

"You know..." He began to say in a thoughtful tone. "Sometimes when I see the flowers here, they remind me of what we've shared since we were children, the days in my father's garden, the sunny days where we played hide and seek with Kaeya or Jean, or when we'd go looking for bugs and flowers with you... The times when as children, everything seemed simpler."

She looked up from the flowers, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and affection. They didn't usually talk about their feelings this way, but she felt there was something different about the way Diluc was acting.

"Kinda funny..." She said with a soft smile. "Maybe it's weird for me to say it like this but I've always thought that this garden is like a reflection of various connections I have with people, especially our friendship. I take great care of it cause it means a lot to me, as you do too, Diluc."

He was silent, but his eyes shone with an intensity that Y/N couldn't ignore. Finally, he leaned a little closer. "Y/N, there is something I need to tell you." He began, his voice filled with an unusual vulnerability. "How I've felt about you has changed over time. You're not only my friend, but someone I truly appreciate more than I could ever put into words. You are a beautiful girl, you are strong and honest, you are charismatic and kind, you are sweet and brave... I could spend all day talking about how I see you... but I'm scared, I don't wanna lose you because of the things I feel for you."

Her stomach flipped over, she felt her heart beating faster, her cheeks flushing as she listened to Diluc's heartfelt words. She wasn't sure how to respond, but the sincerity in his voice moved her deeply.

"Diluc, I've felt something special for you too, for a while now..." Admitted Y/N in a trembling voice. "But I- I didn't know how to tell you. I was afraid it might ruin our friendship."

Diluc smiled, a gleam of relief in his eyes. "You don't have to fear that, Y/N. What I feel for you has grown over time and I think it's something worth feeling together, if you'll allow me."

With a gesture full of tenderness Diluc took Y/N's hand, looking at her warm and comforting eyes with an expression that blended love and affection that became overwhelming to the young woman's melting heart.

"Let me show you how special you are to me, not only as a friend with whom I have spent countless moments together, adventures and good times, but as someone I wish to protect, care for and love as long as you and life will allow me to."

With her heart overwhelmed with emotion, she nodded slowly, looking into his eyes, nervous and excited by his words. Her trust in Diluc and the love she felt for him came together in a moment of pure connection. "I'd love to do the same, Diluc."

He ran a hand around her waist with a gentle smile and a soft shade of pink on his cheeks. He held her chin with his gloved hand and looked down at her. "May I?"

It was the happiest day for both of them. She felt like she would faint soon from so much emotion her heart was feeling, she nodded shyly and it was then that Diluc brought their lips together gently, a tender kiss full of the love and affection they felt for each other.

From that day on, the garden became an even more meaningful place for them, a place to spend time together and create many memories.

Each visit was a mixture of laughter and intimate moments, as Diluc strove to show his devotion and affection in every gesture and action. Through the seasons, through time and through life's changes, their new relationship blossomed so beautifully, just as the flowers did in Y/N's garden.

[no-name-blu]

GAMESHOW HOST WALLY FIC:

First Punishment

This was supposed to be a comic but then I didn't finish it.

Have it in written format instead :D

Trigger Warnings: Gore, Torture, Manipulation, Abuse, unreliable narrator

Context: This is way back in the show's early days, Wally trusts home and follows his orders without a question. Until this day when he starts thinking about it.

"What a shame! What a thrill! I hope everyone at home enjoyed watching this man perish!" Wally smiles at the camera, while the live audience cheers at his words, he gestures his hand to tone down their voice, and they obey. "Well that's it for our show tonight. My name is Wally, and I'm here to remind you that for every second you sleep at night, you're feeding the spider that lives inside of your ears. Goodni-"

He stopped his closure when he felt a tug on the hems of his pants. With the sound of his neck cracking he spins his head backwards and looks down. A man, who has crawled towards him with only his arms, his bottom half has been torn apart. This bleeding man looks up at Wally with what's left of his eyes, or face. Safe to say he did not look good.

"I'm so sorry... Please let me live." Surprisingly, with his throat accidentally stepped on earlier, this man can speak.

"Wow! And you're also still alive!"

I was about to say that Wally.

"But you're too slow"

"What?" The bleeding, faceless man talks again.

"Oh right, you're still here" Wally looks back at him. "But why would I let you live? You lost!"

"I know that... But, I need to go home. I still have that I love." There's tears coming out, but it only burns on his faceless face. "I did horrible things. But, it's all for them. A father makes sacrifices. I don't deserve this, everything I did is for them, I NEED TO GO HOME"

"...H-Hey... I've seen you on my daughter's-"

With every strength he has left, he raises his voice but Wally didn't say anything, he retracts his head back to normal.

STOMP

With brute force, Wally steps on him as his head explodes. There are chunks that splattered across the floor while his shoes are now stained red.

"Eugh, that's gross" Wally looks down at the mess he made. He calls two of the audience member to dispose the body. While a couple others clean up the studio. It's just another night at work, and Wally can finally wind down after doing a great job.

He walks through the hallways. The wallpaper is patterned with eye designs. Every step he takes feels like the pupils are watching him passing by, Wally is always under his presence at all times.

The moment he enters his dressing room, he can hear the sounds of knocks in the walls.

"Thank you Home. I think I did well today too."

He sits down in front of his mirror, an apple on the table caught his attention. "For me? Thank you Home," Wally takes a bite into the meaty apple. Usually he'd happily enjoy this well-deserved meal but something makes Wally feel confused.

A long concerned creak came out from Home. "Oh, it's nothing. I was just thinking," Wally says, but now there's an insistent knocking.

"Okay, okay. I'll tell you."

He didn't say anything for the first couple of seconds.

"Hey, don't rush me! I'm thinking!"

And then he goes back to "thinking". Which is more on, hesitating.

"Fine... I was just thinking about our contestant earlier."

Now the knocking turned curious.

"He was just supporting his family. Even though harvesting bodies is also not good. I do think he deserves bad things. It's just, all of this is just sad."

Home replies with sounds of agreement, although they are also a bit dismissive to his feelings.

"Am I doing the same thing?"

Wally looks around the dressing room, but Home did not say anything. He looks back at his mirror.

"I found these people just for you. I supported you with these sacrifices. So, if we say that people like that contestant deserved to die, what about me?"

There are creaks trying to reassure him.

"But that doesn't make any sense"

Now there's an impatient creek.

"But, what if we were wrong.."

One. Aggressive. Knock.

"Maybe we could've find a different way to..."

Wally gets lost in his sentence when he notices his reflection turned dark. He leans to take a closer peak at it until something reaches out of the mirror.

He pulled himself away from the mirror, stumbling backwards from his chair and landed on the floor. Wally can't see anything at all, he reaches up to his face where he can feel a persistent piercing pain coming from his face.

"Wh-What did you do?!" He gasps for air frantically when all he sees is nothing. But Wally has no reason to panic, he can't die.

"But it hurts" his voice shakes as he weeps. He reaches out an arm to find his eyes until he feels something grab his shirt and suspends him above the ground.

"Home?"

Wally can feel a huge force at him until his back slams against the wall with a loud thud. The impact shook his whole body, but it also knocked his head so badly that it was nauseating.

I didn't want to hurt you Wally.

But I don't like my temper being tested.

I can do so much torture upon you, but I won't.

You have to understand, we are different from those contestants, the people above.

You're never going to be like them.

The voice makes Wally tremble in fear, Home wasn't like this before. Wally must have pushed it too far, he's lucky Home is being merciful right now.

"I'm sorry."

Home lowers him back to the ground, but Wally didn't have the strength to stand up, he fell to his knees.

"I will stop thinking about this then."

He mutters. Then he felt something bump against his knee, Wally reaches down to grab them.

"Oh, my eyes. Thank you Home"

As long as he does his work, he will be good friends with Home. Maybe Wally is different from that contestant, it's just a dead man in the end. Nothing more.

[sakumz]

____________________________________________

「 yanagi x fem reader 」

a/n : I wanna rant lol

____________________________________________

" please be the romeo, yanagi. shu sustained an injury the other day so he's the narrator with me. we need you! " ishikawa clasps his hands together as yanagi smiles and agrees.

you, juliet is feeling nervous as the clock ticks. any minute now and it's showtime! where's your romeo? is he ready? all this thoughts running in your head that you fail to notice yanagi standing behind you. you let out an internal scream when you saw him, standing behind you. he just wants to wish you goodluck.

" h-have you memorised your parts, yanagin? " you ask but before he could reply, you heard the narrators, shu and ishikawa call out your name. that's your que to stand on stage and act your role.

" oh... why do our families fight with such hatred? I'm sure that if given the chance, they'd join hands and work together just like we have. if they could just understand half of how I feel about you, romeo... I'm sure- "

" AH-CHOO! "

" what was that noise? " ishikawa whispers to shu as the mics picks it up, making the audience laugh.

" what's this, a horror show? " someone from the seats say.

" that was pretty loud, " another say.

" man! was you, miyamura?! " shu shouts, making him peek from the curtains to shake his head, no.

" how embarrassing, " you whisper.

" crap, I forgot my lines. hey.. um what's next? " hearing you said that, made the audience burst into laughters.

" guess it wasn't horror but comedy? " someone say.

" hey juliet, that was an important line! " yanagi finally, steps onto stage.

" I can't help it, you sneezed and everything disappeared from my head! " you scolded him.

hearing your words, the audience laughed a little too hard for comfort.

" hey! they like it, next scene you two! " shu encourages.

onto the next scene, you're standing on what's supposed to be the balcony. yanagi standing somewhere below and next to him is the servant, miyamura dressed in a wig and maiden clothes.

" the capulets want your life, " miyamura says.

" no matter how dangerous it is, I need to go to her, " yanagi replies. " she's waiting at that balcony! "

" don't stop romeo, but this is when this servant shows her determination! " ishikawa announced.

" the truth is, she's in love with romeo! when she thinks this is their farewell, she gets ready to tell him how she feels, " shu follows.

" I don't remember this, being in the script? " miyamura whispers as yanagi sighs.

" well, just say whatever comes to your mind. I'm sure hori-san will deal with the two later, " yanagi comforts miyamura with a pat to his shoulder.

" um... romeo-sama, I've always loved you... crap, hori-san! I love you most! I cant do this anymore, " he runs away from the stage.

the audience burst into laughter once more. suddenly, a random hooded lady appeared on stage.

" oh a mysterious woman appears! " shu says.

" just who is she? " ishikawa respond.

" um, I am Josephine! romeo's true love! " remi says as she pulls down her hood. the crowd gasps and whispers, was romeo a player?

" this... you can't be my lover, you're my sister! " yanagi quickly thinks of a line.

" that doesn't matter if we're in love, " she replies.

" our family will be in bloodbath if they knew. besides, I'm sure the president loves you more than I do! go back to him. " yanagi fake cries, making the audience sympathise with him.

" he loves juliet! " the crowd cheers.

" I- you're right, onii-sama. " she runs off stage.

" you think, I'll let you have juliet that easy? I'm her older brother, Friedrich! " hori appears and charged him with her sword. he quickly ducks and run forward towards you.

" when I asked about you, you're a despicable man who cheats and make women cry, " hori says.

" you misunderstood the situation and exaggerated it! " yanagi replies.

" you want my juliet? fight me! " she charges at him as he runs around the stage.

" m-miyamura! take her, please! "

" even he can't save you! "

yanagi finally runs down the stage as she runs after him. yoshikawa and hori's father was next to them when yanagi ran up the audience.

" please catch her! " he begs as yoshikawa grabs her by the arm and her father takes the other arm.

" kyouko, why do you have to bully poor romeo? " kyousuke says out loud, making the audience around him laugh as hori freezes.

" now that they've finally caught juliets brother, what's next to come? " shu says.

" i-im coming, juliet! " yanagi shouts as he bolts towards you, climb the ladder to grab your hands at the balcony.

" o romeo, romeo! wherefore art thou, romeo? deny thy father and refuse thy name ; or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a capulet. " you read your lines.

" then I'll take you. in exchange, please call me your lover. if you do, I will no longer be romeo. my beloved juliet. " he says.

" okay... I love you, romeo. " you finish as you two hold hands and the crowd cheers.

the casts bow and thank the watchers as everyone slowly leave the place, you and yanagi walked side by side off stage. fellow classmates were congratulating you two for the heart felt work.

" ahem, juliet could you come with me? " yanagi says as he offers his hand out. you two haven't changed out of your outfits.

you take his hand as he leads you away from the stage area, he walks you to the quiet council room as you two enters he closes the door and take a seat on one of the chairs. you take a seat across from him.

" well? " you question as he swallow sharply.

" y/n l/n... would you take my hand and be the juliet to my romeo? " he asks, looking at your face as you blush slightly from his words.

" oh romeo... are you asking me to be your lover? if so then yes I'll be your juilet. " you smile as he leans in to kiss your cheek, making you both blush.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ inspired by nisekoi lol

[ineffable-suffering]

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Let me at first put a small index for you here, since this is a three part meta and you might want to read the posts that precede this one:

Part 1: The Story of Job

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

... and now: Welcome to the final Part 3! We made it! Or well, we will have, soon-ish. Because let me give you a fair warning: This one is definitely the longest one out of the three. And by long I mean literally almost 5k words long. Mainly because there's a lot to work with since the 1941 minisode is less mini and more the entirety of S2E4 and also, in my opinion, needs a lot more context than the others. But! That shan't discourage me, as I am currently stuck in bed with a bit of a sore throat, a steaming cuppa tea and an entire afternoon to spare.

So, for the third and final time in this meta series: Let's get cracking! Under! The! Cut!

I shall spare you another summary of the points I have made so far and, should you not have read or remembered them, I kindly redirect you to the end of Part 1 and the beginning & end of Part 2, where I summarize most of it. Don't worry, the link to this post will be in both of them, so you can hop right back once you're done!

On commence with some needed context.

I think one of the most important things to point out at the very beginning here, is that unlike with the other minisodes, we don't have a direct indicator that this is once again one of Aziraphale's memories or diary entries. In the Story of Job, we see him read the part in the Bible and actively immersing himself into the flashbacks (so deeply, even, that Crowley leaves in between, since Aziraphale seems to be so intensely lost in thought). And the Story of wee Morag is being narrated to us by past Aziraphale's diary entry.

All we see before the start of this episode's minisode, however, is Aziraphale driving the Bentley before Shax unconsensually hitchhikes with him and then leaves again. The title squence rolls and we're in London, 1941. And once the minisode ends, it's also not with Aziraphale looking like he just remembered something or a shot of his diary, but instead with present day Shax going to Beelzebub to request permission for the attack on the bookshop and then Aziraphale arriving in Soho, back from his trip to Edinburgh.

It's safe to say, therefore, that these two somehow indicate why and when the 1941 flashback starts and ends the way it does. And they do! You just have to listen and look closely, because the hint of whose memory this is, is a bit more subtle. Let's take it bit by bit.

Shax reveals herself to Aziraphale, catching him off guard. ("You have the advantage on me." "I do, yes.") She then go on to introduce herself as "former admissions demon" and ...

"Now, a Hell's ambassador planner, potentially plenipotentiary* to this corner of the planet. Replacing the demon Crowley."

*(Thank you for pointing this subtitle error out in the comments, @odonataanisoptera!)

At first sight, this might seem like no new information. We already know this, we have seen Crowley and Shax talk multiple times, we know Shax is Crowley's hellish successor and we know Shax now lives in Crowley's flat in Mayfair and, due to that unfortunate circumstance, Crowley in his car. You know who doesn't know this yet?

That's right: Aziraphale!

Neil himself confirmed that the reason why Aziraphale hasn't yet asked Crowley to move into the bookshop is because he doesn't know Crowley is living in his car! Which also indirectly implies that he hasn't told Aziraphale yet that he's no longer Hell's representative on Earth! Massive communication issues aside, this means that four years after Armagedidn't, Aziraphale is realizing for the very first time that Crowley is no longer officially employed by Hell.

Which is quite big news! We don't really know what Aziraphale's exact state of employment is with Heaven, but we do know from Crowley saying so (to Shax, again) in S2E1, that they no longer talk to him and he no longer reports back to them about his work. We can therefore deduct that he isn't actively operating as Heaven's ambassador on Earth anymore – on Heaven's own volition.

After they pulled off their body swap stunt post Armagedidn't, Crowley and Aziraphale of course secured themselves some temporary freedom from both Heaven and Hell. But it was only ever that, right? Temporary. Crowley says so himself at the end of Season 1: "They'll leave us alone ... for a bit." Sure, they were both sort of free to do whatever they wanted, but up until this very moment in the Bentley with Shax, Aziraphale thought he was the only one out of the two of them who had not only been let off the leash a little but also, so to speak, let go from his former employment. Which really explains his genuine, surprised look once Shax lets him know she's officially Crowley's replacement.

Their body swap trick gave them some breathing space, yes, but that's still entirely different than actually officially being let go from your job obligations and duties. What Aziraphale doesn't know either, however, (because again, Mr. Anthony J. Can't-Communicate-Crowley hasn't let him known), is that despite having been replaced and technically absolved of his hellish duties, Hell still very much relies on and demands things of Crowley. And also that Crowley himself hasn't been able to drop his weariness and worries since he still seems to seek out any and every information he can get on what's going on in the Up and Down. David Tennant said in an interview about Season 2:

"[...] interestingly, when we first meet Crowley, he's on a park bench catching up with the person who's taken his job. He obviously can't quite let go. He still wants the updates, and he still wants to know what's going on."

There's just so awfully much Crowley isn't telling Aziraphale – but that's stuff for another meta.

Either way, it eeks me a bit that we don't certainly know how much and what exactly Crowley has told Arziraphale about Shax – but it clearly can't have been all to much, since the Bentley conversation is their first encounter and Aziraphale doesn't even seem to know what Shax looks like, let alone that she's Crowley's new replacement. Crowley must have mentioned her to Aziraphale at one point or another pre-S2, because he does name-drop her when Aziraphale is about to reveal the appearance of Jimbriel ("You'll never guess who Shax was asking me about").

But it's one thing for Aziraphale to know or deduce that Hell might still occasionally send someone (like Shax) to check in on Crowley and another thing for him to not know that Beelzebub still summons Crowley whenever they feel like it, trying to coerce/blackmail him and that Shax regularly follows, even threats Crowley and lives in his goddamn apartment because she now fully replaces Crowley in his former job.

So, to sum this up: Aziraphale just received quite a bit of news Crowley withheld from him until now, but is also still lacking some other context that neither Crowley nor Shax has given him yet in order to be aware of the full picture.

Now, you're probably wondering: What the f*ck are you on about, OP, what does this have to do with the memory and narration analysis that this whole meta is supposed to be about? Well, dear reader, I'll kindly ask you to just hold onto that thought I outlined here until a little later. Tuck it in your pocket, don't worry, I'll remind you to take it out again once it's time.

Despite looking clearly incredibly surprised and, what is is again– ah, yes, flabbergasted upon hearing of Crowley's replacement, Aziraphale only reacts with a short "Ah", trying not to give away the fact that this is indeed very much news to him. He then continues to try and deflect anything Shax is saying and suggesting about Crowley. Except for the part where Shax says that she doesn't think Aziraphale seems like Crowley's type at all. And I cannot, for the absolute life of me, keep that GIF out of here, so:

God, how I adore you, Mr. Sheen, master of immaculate microexpressions.

Alright, let's move on from the brief flash of sassy angel, onto what Shax says next. Because this is the crucial part:

"You know ... what, sometime in the last 80, 90 years I remember hearing that you and Crowley were an item. I didn't believe it then. Not really. Poor old Furfur. He thought you were his ticket to the big time."

Which Aziraphale replies to:

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about."

But you do, Aziraphale, don't you? Of course you do. How could he forget the time he almost got Crowley caught together with him by Hell ("Fraternising!") in what was probably one of their most insane and turbulent adventures (that we know of, at least). And now he knows that Shax knows about it too! At least some of it, because she used to work together with Furfur and was the one who pushed him to do his investigation in the first place.

We end their little Bentley encounter with Shax getting out, cryptically saying "You've already told me where Gabriel is" and Aziraphale hurriedly speeding off back to London.

I'd like to briefly point out that according to Google Maps, Edinburgh is almost an 8-hour drive away from London. Of course we don't know where exactly Shax semi-grand-theft-auto'ed into the Bentley, but it's safe to say that since it's still dark when she does and Aziraphale arrives in London when it's light out and morning already, he must have at least been driving for another couple of hours. All by himself, with nothing to think of other than a) Crowley never having told him that he's been relieved of Hell's duties and –– you guessed it –– b) what happened in 1941.

And here's where it gets interesting: It's not just Aziraphale who's remembering 1941. It's Shax, too. It hit me like a ton of bricks, once I realized. Shax is the one who brings up 1941 and Furfur's mission to get his promotion. So everything we see that happens in Hell, with the Nazi spies being processed, are Shax's memories. Obviously Aziraphale couldn't have known or remembered any of that. But Shax could! And she does. Because this entire minisode is their shared memory of it, stitched together with the parts both of them actually witnessed.

And alas, here you have it: The reason why it makes so much sense that this minisode is so much longer than the last ones and also happens right after Aziraphale's encounter with Shax. They both were just very much reminded of what went down all those years ago. And they're both thinking back on it to come to some sort of conclusion. And funnily enough, it ends up being the same one – but I'll get into that in a bit too.

Aziraphale's got time to kill in the Bentley. A few good and long hours alone, with the knowledge of Crowley's and his own sort-of-newly-found freedom at the back of his mind. (Crowley! No longer bound to Hell! Himself! No longer bound to Heaven! Blimey!)

What else would Aziraphale think of, if not the time he realized, after the demon had saved his precious books, he was utterly and irrevocably in love with Crowley. And what else could Shax think of on her way back to London, if not the time Hell almost got proof of Crowley and Aziraphale being "an item", putting one of her colleagues onto investigating it and only now, decades later, coming to realize that it was true after all – giving her the confirmation that there was only one place Crowley would hide Gabriel while Aziraphale was gone: the Bookshop. Aziraphale's bookshop. Because if there's any demon that would have unrestricted access to it, it would be Crowley – as Shax has just now realized.

Let's just say it's no wonder that this minisode is about to be an explosion (pun intended) of all the things we have seen and realized about how Aziraphale capital-r Remembers things (ft. a bit more behind the scene knowledge, provided by Shax). And yes, it took me this absolutely ridiculous amount of time and words to get to the actual beginning of this minisode. But I'll be as bold as to say that you'll thank me for it because if there's one thing all of this teaches us, it's that context is so very important for memories and decision making.

... let's continue!

Title sequence: Rolled. London, 1941: Begins. Nazis in the church: Bombed. Books: Saved.

(Aziraphale: in Love.)

Right away again, the title card for "London 1941" looks like an old black and white film, similar to the retro hue and colouring of the Job episode in S2E2. We see what we saw already in Season 1, with the bomb dropping and Crowley saving the books. What we didn't know is what Shax's memory will now show us: How the Nazi spies were processed in Hell. And how she offered to help Furfur with being promoted if he could get her some intel on "some demon being up to no good."

I have yet to fully take my time to take a closer look at Shax, but I think she's a lot more competent and smart than Hell gives her credit for (similar to Saraqael in Heaven). How else would she have gotten word of A Certain Suspicious Demon while she was still an admissions demon herself. Or figured out simply by Crowley's Bentley not being at the bookshop in S2E3 that Aziraphale must be the one who'd currently be driving it somewhere. But okay, I really don't want to divert too much from my own plot here, so let's jump right ahead into our next scene: Aziraphale's first memory in this minisode.

I'm just gonna play Captian Obvious for a second here: There's literal sparks flying in the air. Red, firey, passionate sparks. And an angel looking like this:

I'll just let the imagery do the talking.

Now we have that love-birdery out of the way: I was at first going to once again call bullsh*t on the timeline our dear smitten Aziraphale is giving us here. Because I thought: "You're really gonna try and tell me that while there was an actual Blitzkrieg happening just down the block, the girls playing Ladies of Camelot had nothing better to do than to happily perform at the Westend like nothing out of the ordinary had happened?"

But the answer is ... yes. Yes, they literally had nothing better to do – because they were still performing! I chastised our dear angel too soon, because lookie here:

(Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Windmill_Theatre)

I indeed didn't know that the Windmill Theater remained open during WW2 –– but it did put a smile on my face that the article specifically mentions it remaining open even during the hight of the Blitzkrieg. Neil, you clever man!

Also, one last nugget of appreciation: Aziraphale most definitely having no clue what sort of performances actually happened at the Windmill Theater (in case you don't know, just check Wikipedia for a sec), exclaiming "Sophocles! Shakespeare!" and Crowley simply going "Something like that" just warms my heart infinitely.

Fondly thinking about Aziraphale asking Mrs. Sandwich: "What exactly is it that your girls do?"

Another thing that seemed strange to me at first, that I think I also managed to semi-debunk, is the fact that Crowley's Bad Deed of that day seems to have been to deliver 80-percent-proof alcohol to the Windmill Theater. It made me frown and go: "Huh? I don't think alcohol was illegal in England in 1941?" However, upon googling around a bit, I think it might actually be not so much about the alcohol itself, but who it was given to. Which, in this case, is the American soldiers frequenting the nude shows at the Windmill Theater. All I could find were some books and essays, one of them titled "The Wet War: American Liquor Control, 1941–1945", as well as this short abstract of a paper that seems to talk about how American soldies consuming alcohol while at war/stationed abroad for WW2 were frowned upon by US Army chaplains because "the impact that alcohol would have on the men's moral well-being".

So, it would make sense for Hell to send a certain alcoholic temptation to one of the dens of temptation itself – the Windmill Theater. Enter Anthony J. Crowley, your local Nazi-church-bomber, book-saver, angel-seducer and alcohol-smuggler. (Albeit that last one sort of failing a little. Sorry, Mrs. H.)

(Sidenote: @createserenity gave a lovely and very plausible explanation of the whole alcohol delivery and also who Crowley's character design might have been based on in the comments of this post!)

Aziraphale then of course jumps in, offering to be the magician of the evening to repay his "good friend" (sideye), waving around his little handkerchief like an excited little boy. ("Ah, the ✨theatér✨!") We also get the first zombie!Nazis content, which I believe is probably a reconstruction of what the zombie!Nazis told Furfur once they met up with him again and what Furfur then probably told Shax once he failed his mission. Brains eaten, we continue to this glorious line:

He's just so very excited and giddy about it all – and I think that's partly because he a) just realized that Crowley loves him (and he very much loves Crowley too) and b) because Bentley!Aziraphale who is remembering this, probably remembers it even more fondly and giddily. We've seen his emotions bubble over a lot more during the other minisode-memories – so it only makes sense that in this one, he's remembering himself to be almost out of his mind with happiness and excitement about Crowley the magic show.

Remember what I asked you to tuck into your pocket?

Take it out again. Go on, there's a love! Because what is it that Aziraphale realized mere moments ago during his conversation with Shax? Crowley is free of Hell.* (*and remember, he doesn't know that that's not entirely true because no one told him the rest of the facts. So yes, we know it's not quite as simple – but Aziraphale doesn't.)

For all of S2, he has been trying to bring his relationship with Crowley to a new, more domestically intimate level (our car!), confidently and potentially even a bit carelessly ignoring the still-very-much-there threats of Heaven and Hell. I think one of the things that might have still been holding him back in his attempts to get to the next base (huehue) was the fact that he thought Crowley was still actively employed by and tied to Hell.

In all of S2, Aziraphale does come across as a little bit blinded by his desire to finally be with-be with Crowley (rose-tined glasses obstructing the view and all) but he's not completely carless. He knows Hell to be way more cruel to their employees and has always been careful to not get Crowley into too much trouble by being associated with him. But now he has (a little falsely) deducted that Crowley is in fact no longer in hellish demand – and isn't that just absolutely tickety-boo! Lacking the context that we, the audience, have, Arziraphale.exe is currently running hot on: Heaven and Hell don't care about Crowley and me anymore! We're free of our employers' interest in us and the threat that used to bring!! I've been trying to lock this serpent down ever since the World didn't end – and now I finally can!!! I'm We're able to do whatever I we like which is to finally confess to Crowley!!!!

From Bentley!Aziraphale's point of view, this is the literal green light on their highway to Alpha Centauri! Metaphorically, anyway. More like their country road to the Southdowns. And, for now, the M1 to London– back, back, back to Crowley!

For a minute, I did wonder about why he doesn't seem at all worried or stressed once he arrives in London after his journey. After all, Shax did very clearly threaten him and insinuated that she already knew where Gabriel was. But if you look at Aziraphale all throughout Season 2, it's so very evident that he's completely occupied with being soppily nostalgic of all the memories he recalls of him and Crowley and, even while facing off with Heaven and Hell again, seems oh too happy to ignore all that because he only has eyes for one thing.

Need I say more?

So, of course, realistically Aziraphale should probably be worried and weary of what Shax said (and maybe also a little taken aback by the fact that Crowley never told him any of this). But oh, isn't the world just that much lovelier when you look at it through shades of yellow and rose? And ignore everything else because if you only look at what you want to look at, both you and the serpent of your dreams are finally free to be together? So, of course! Azirapahle should be so! Very! Concerned! But instead, he is so! Very! Happy!

Both back in actual 1941, after Crowley saves his books, as well as in his memory of the story, aka in the current present day – which we don't get to see until he leaves the Bentley, but then it does show.

And it shows even more while he's still remembering 1941:

Crowley doing an American accent? Oh, that must have been so funny and charming, look at him slapping his thigh, unbuttoning his jacket, leaning back all suavely and watching me– I mean ... the Ladies of Camelot.

There's this excellent meta by @cobragardens I read on the colours of red and yellow in this 1941 minisode as well, which further makes a point of how red is clearly Crowley's colour in Aziraphale's mind – and it's so, so vibrant in this memory specifically. Poor angel has really got it bad for his beloved book-saving demon.

I'd also like to point out Aziraphale's tendency to exaggerate again, both when it comes to others and himself. We see this in the other minisodes as well, and here again, when he seems almost overly-clumsy, dropping those big trick-rings twice, making a tower of cards topple over and then dropping even more things on the counter. This is probably just a bit of a projection how he might have been feeling about performing as a magician: Slightly nervous, trying to overplay it and yet very keen on getting it right.

Crowley seems to always just be watching silently when memory!Aziraphale is acting a little out of character – possibly because there was no actual reaction from him since these slightly overdramatic things weren't actually this dramatic in the first place.

Another thing I would very much take with a grain of angelic memory salt, is one of the Nazi zombies actually walking into the shop while Crowley and Aziraphale are still in there. First of all, that would be pretty bold of him/them, given there's only three people in this tiny shop. And second of all, don't you think it's odd that neither Aziraphale nor Crowley would notice a literal undead person sauntering into the shop? I'll give Aziraphale the benefit of the doubt, since he's currently on cloud nine. But Crowley? How on Earth would he miss that?

Unless the zombie never actually went into the shop, put on silly costumes and rings (because given their track record, in my opinion, goofing around is a very un-Nazi-like thing to do) and it's just what the autopilot of Aziraphale's daydream is playing in the background, to fill in the gap for how the zombie!Nazis figured out where his magic show would take place. Because as we already saw, Aziraphale is a bit, well ... busy in that moment.

This GIF is not sped up, by the way, that is indeed the absolute astronomical speed Aziraphale shook Crowley's hand with when he agreed to pretend to shoot him on a live stage. He's my favourite. Of all time.

Alas, the curtains at the Windmill Theater draw aside, ladies and gentlemen: Enter Fell the Marvellous!

Firstly, I would like to point out that Aziraphale is literally being surrounded by all things Crowley – the red curtain to his back, the red and black feathers to his left and right and, well, literal Crowley in the audience to his front.

Just another little ode to how beautifully this whole minisode is done colour-wise.

If you read Part 2, you might remember me saying that how and what Aziraphale is feeling is actually translating directly to what we, the audience, are shown through cinematographic and auditory clues. And this very same thing happens here too. Its starts around the minute mark of 28:31. Right after Aziraphale realizes that his miracles aren't working and he still announces the bullet catch, introducing Crowley, you can tell that the whole frame starts to shake every so slightly.

At first, it's extremely subtle and you could possibly wave it off as simply being filmed with a hand-held camera. However, the further we progress into the bullet catch trick scene, the more the frame starts shaking.

I have taken the liberty to make a little cutdown of how this intense shaking progresses, so that in case you never noticed it before, I can spare you the time of going back to watch it for yourself.

It might be a trick of the eye but it even seems like the edges of the frame grow blurrier the closer the actual firing of the gun comes. And I don't think I have to tell you what feeling this is trying to convey. Anyone who's ever had a panic attack would probably describe it exactly like that. At least I would.

Everything is shaking because Aziraphale was most certainly out of his mind with fear and adrenaline. He wants to do this, he has to because he needs to show up for Crowley the way Crowley showed up for him at the church – but he's also literally risking being discorporated for good. And once again, we feel his panic, we feel like just like it's our own blood pumping through our veins, just like when we ourselves are shaking with fear. Because this is his memory. And a memory of such a tense and dangerous moment takes a long time to feel less scary.

Once they successfully pull of the trick, the shaking stops, of course. Fell the Marvellous nails his second trick by stealing Furfur's picture, the Nazi!zombies wander off to Satan knows where and we get another one of Shax's memories when we see Furfur not getting his promotion. (Almost makes you feel a little sorry for him, poor bugger.)

I don't have much to say about their romantic red wine candle light boogaloo, apart from the fact that it makes me want to punch holes in walls with how smited smote smitten Aziraphale looks at Crowley the entire time. And also there's this awfully sweet post about Crowley deciding to still sit and drink with him despite not knowing yet that Aziraphale had stolen the evidence picture.

HE IS SO IN LOVE I AM GOING TO SCREAM–

Back to reality, whoa, there goes gravity (as we plummet down to Hell).

Because remember: While most of this was indeed Aziraphale's memory, some of it was Shax's as well. And I'm pretty sure she knows most of what went down that night. After all, Furfur was most definitely the one who caused the rumors of Crowley and Aziraphale being "an item".

So, while Aziraphale was in the Bentley, indulging and revelling in his love-struck memories of the night he almost died* (*discorporated) twice and managed to survive both times because Crowley was there and trusted him, Shax also thought back on all of this since it was the final nail in the coffin that confirmed to her that Gabriel was hiding in the bookshop with Crowley.

So, what's the conclusion that both characters have come to during this very long flashback? It's simple:

Aziraphale loves Crowley. And Crowley loves Aziraphale.

There's only one person Aziraphale would trust with Gabriel – and that is Crowley. And there is only one place that no other demon would have access to except for Crowley. And that is the bookshop. Shax knows this now. Which is why it makes so much sense that once we're back in present day!Hell, she immediately requests a legion to attack the bookshop. Because she knows this is the only place Crowley and Aziraphale both consider safe from the outside world, and the only place Crowley would have access to because Aziraphale loves trusts him. Reflecting back on it, 1941 confirmed to her that they have been and still are the item everyone suspected them to be.

Clever, clever Shax!

As for Aziraphale: It's less of a conclusion, to be honest, and more of a reassurance, an affirmation of sorts. As I pointed out in my horrendously long context introduction, Crowley no longer working for Hell is exactly the push Aziraphale needs to finally feel like it's possible to make his move and confess to him.

And what does that news- and memory-induced realisation look like? This:

Ah yes, what a lovely day to confess your millennia-long love!

Too bad Crowley's not really up to speed yet and Aziraphale's rose-tinted little moment is met with:

... a face-full of plants. Whelp.

It's okay, they'll figure it out eventually.

My final little sidenote: The Jane Austen Ball and why it wasn't about Nina and Maggie

By all means, if you're already sick and tired of my tangents, do feel free to just skip this and end the meta early. I hope you had a good time with it, let me know your thoughts!

And for those of you who are up for a last burst of tinfoil-hatting: My conclusion to all of this is that I am 100% convinced that the whole Whickber-Street-Association-turned-Cotillion-Ball stunt Aziraphale pulls off in the next episode, was never actually meant for Nina and Maggie.

Why? Because up until getting a mouthful of plants once he arrives back in London, Aziraphale hadn't even known yet that Crowley's awning of a new age under the canopy had failed! The last time they spoke was over the phone in Edinburgh which ended with Crowley hanging up on Aziraphale to go make the love mission happen. And yet, Aziraphale clearly already has the whole ball thing planned out once he arrives in Soho, because he already calls it 'a night to remember'.

So, riddle me this: Why would Aziraphale plan this whole over-the-top romantic Jane Austen Ball on his ride back to London to make Nina and Maggie fall in love if he didn't even know yet whether or not Crowley's attempt at it had been successful or not?

It's almost like he meant for it to be his ideal way of a romantic confession for someone else.

'member the pub scene in S2E2?

Aziraphale: "People would gather and do some formal dancing and then realize they had misunderstood each other. And were actually deeply in love!" Crowley: "Now that sounds unlikely."

Resolving a deep misunderstanding like, hm, for instance, your "de facto partner" not telling you he'd been let go by his toxic employers just like you and also your quarrel about you wanting to protect your former-asshole-turned-cottage-core-dad boss from your own former toxic employers? With ✨a ball✨? (And that being, well, really unlikely to work? Oh, deary-dear angel. Oh, Aziraphale. Be still, my beating heart. You're a soldier for trying, I'll give you that.)

Are you goddamn done yet, OP?

Yes. I am. The tinfoil hat defense rests. I'm aware this was less focused on the actual unreliable narration and a bit more on contextualizing memories and feelings with decision making, deductions and actions – but hey, the road to epiphany has many winding paths. Or something.

Once again, here are Part 1 and Part 2 and if you made it this far: Congratulations, you have reached the end! Thanks for baring with me. I hope you enjoyed the journey just as much as Aziraphale did his daydream in the Bentley. And if you and me both feel strong enough for it, I might see you around in a cheeky little Epiloge to this meta series!

(Also: @dancingcrowley asked so nicely for me to tag them once Part 3 came out, so here you go!)

Cheers!

[milaisreading]

🌱🩷: 4TH STORY IS HERE U ALL! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT☠️😭

Pairings: Barou Shouei x Crossdresser!Yn

Warnings: Reader uses she/her during the narration.

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

🎄Dec 13th🎄

"You think your sisters will like these?" Barou looked away from some perfume he was planning on buying his dad to look at the items (Y/n) was holding. The items in question were small make-up sets. Barou eyed the items for a moment and shrugged his shoulders.

"They look cute, but they look kind of expensive. Don't go all out for my family, you have your own to think of, too." Barou said, going back to looking at the perfume, not noticing (Y/n) flinch a little at the mention of her family.

'Right... my family...' She thought for a moment and then looked at the items, smiling a little.

"It's ok, I can buy it. Besides, they both were telling me how your mom wouldn't let them play with her make-up. I am sure your mom will appreciate these, too." She said as Barou raised an eyebrow at her.

"They did? Those two are careless at times." The red-eyed boy sighed.

"They mean no harm-"

"Excuse me, are you (L/n) (Y/n)? Blue lock's captain?" The two football players turned to look at two girls, around their age, staring up at her.

"Uhm... yeah, I am. Can I help you with something?" (Y/n) wondered as Barou silently watched the interactions.

"Can we take a few pictures with you?"

"We watched that game. And the assist you did for Isagi for the final goal was phenomenal!"

(Y/n) blushed a little at the compliment, something Barou took quick notice of, and nodded her head.

"Th-thank you, but without the help of the rest of the team I wouldn't have been able to do that. And sure, I can take a few pictures." (Y/n) answered, putting the sets away as the girls excitedly pulled her away for some pictures.

"You are so humble."

"It's really cute."

Barou watched the trio silently as he put random items in his cart. The familiar feeling of jealousy slowly making its way through his system. The boy was used to (Y/n) getting attention from people around them. The team, the staff, the fans... she was very approachable. As much as Barou liked her being happy, he wanted her to be more happy with him.

'I knew her longer...and I know more more about her than anyone else.' Barou thought, clenching his fists as (Y/n) came back.

"Should we go now? It's getting quite crowded and I am hungry, too." The girl wondered as Barou nodded his head.

"Sure. Did you get everything you need?" The boy asked as (Y/n) glanced at her cart.

"I just need something for your mom and dad, and I am good to go. Maybe clothing items would be a good idea?" She suggested as Barou shrugged his shoulders.

"I said you don't have to-"

"And I said I will."

"You are annoying and stubborn." Barou sighed.

"Thank you. Learned from the best, king." (Y/n) grinned, noticing the glare forming on his face.

"Shut up, dumbass!"

🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️

Barou was already annoyed at the store as he watched (Y/n) interact with the girls, but now he was pretty much pissed. The boy watched as (Y/n) talked with a group of fans, who interrupted her lunch to ask for pictures and autographs. So, instead of saying no, the girl abandoned her food to talk with them. Barou couldn't really be mad at her, he knew that (Y/n) will put other people before her in most cases.

'That's why Ego-san picked her as the captain.' Barou sighed as he watched the girl wave a goodbye at the group, then returned to her seat.

"Sorry for leaving." (Y/n) muttered apologetically, looking down at her food.

"It's getting cold, you should really eat it." Barou commented as he ate his food.

"I know, but you know I can't say no to people, especially when they ask me for something politely."

"That wasn't your act an hour ago." Barou rolled his eyes as (Y/n) started eating your food.

"I already told you I don't want anything. I am happy enough to spend the holidays with you and your family." The honesty in her words caused the red-eyed boy to blush and forcefully gulp down his food.

"Still, you can't be without a present. And what about your family? Wouldn't you want to celebrate Christmas with them?"

"T-them?! Oh..." (Y/n) coughed a few times and shook her head.

"N-not really. My parents are going on a business trip and my brothers will be with their friends." (Y/n) simply answered and Barou eyed her suspiciously before continuing eating. The determination to buy her something for Christmas grew even stronger after that. Along with that, his curiosity about (Y/n)'s family grew as well.

☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄

The duo was now at a clothing store, their last stop before they planned going to their homes. Barou was aimlessly looking around the pile of random shirts, still trying to think of a gift for (Y/n).

'What can I even get someone who grew up in a family as rich as (Y/n)'s... just my luck.' Barou rolled his eyes.

'Why do I even bother? That idiot is just a pain in the neck, loud, annoying, a know it all... but, I wouldn't really want her to change.' Barou felt his cheeks slowly heat up.

'Especially when she smiles, or laughs, or gets excited over the next match.'

The boy groaned as he felt a familiar twist in his heart as he looked behind himself, expecting to find (Y/n), but she was nowhere to be found. Barou stiffened as he looked around, not able to find the girl anywhere in the men's section of the store.

"Where did that dumbass go now?" Barou silently groaned and started looking around the store, hoping to find her soon.

'I hope she isn't around one of the fangirls, because I swear I will kick a football into her next time-'

"Oh? Are you planning to buy that for your girlfriend? Do you need any help?"

"What? Oh... I am just looking at some dresses for... for someone. I don't know if I will buy it yet." Barou stopped in his tracks as he looked to his left, only to find a worker and (Y/n) talking with each other, while the other girl was holding a (f/c) dress. Barou silently backed behind the wall, making sure (Y/n) and the worker didn't see him.

"The dress maybe..." Barou narrowed his eyes as he observed the item.

"It's a really nice dress, you have great eyes. It's quite popular this season as well."

"Really?" (Y/n) asked in surprise

"Mhm. I think it has to do with the color." The worker nodded as (Y/n) silently looked at the dress. Barou knew that look on the girl's face all too well. Contrary to how he expected rich people to behave, (Y/n) was always ready to put her needs and wishes aside when it came to someone else. She also rarely liked to spend on herself.

'Come on, you idiot. If you want it, buy it!' Barou thought.

"Oh... can I ask you something?"

"Huh? Sure." (Y/n) said to the worker, looking away from the dress.

"You are Blue lock's captain? (L/n), right?"

"Yes, that would be me." (Y/n) nodded, the worker's face brightened as she heard jer confirm it.

"My little brother really loved watching you play. Would you mind giving him an autograph?"

"Not at all. I just need a pen and paper." (Y/n) said with a soft smile as she put the dress away. Barou watched with an irritated expression as yet again, (Y/n) abandoned her own wishes to help someone else.

"Dumbass, dumbass..." Barou muttered for what felt like the 100th time as he approached the abandoned clothing item. The boy stared at it for a moment, then looked around the area, the down at the dress again.

"Well, if you won't buy it yourself, I will do it."

Barou rolled his eyes as he took the item to go and pay for it.

'I will hurry up before she comes back for it. Or worse, sees me buying it.' The boy thought, walking rather quickly to the cash register.

'She will definitely not expect this one.' Barou thought as he smiled softly at the item.

'She might be an idiot. But an idiot I would never replace for anything.'

[sirensea14]

My Bright Star

Kickin' Chicken x reader {part 2}

>>(Part 1) , [part 3]

Summary: You're an orphan child from Playcare who came back to the factory 15 years later after you received a mysterious letter. (Time skip to chapter 3, the part where you fight catnap)

Warnings: gn!reader or fem!reader (whatever you want it be), fluff and angst, kickin's alive and a bit ooc, violence, blood, not proofread so there may be typos and other errors here

A/n: im honestly happy you guys are reading this shit😭 even if its a bit badly written! Here's part 2! I tried my best to narrate the boss battle in my own words. Hope you enjoy... You're up for one hell of a ride.

"Huff... Huff... That was... close! Damn that cat, you need a dental hygienist!" You panted after going through that hell of batteries and red smoke, pinching your nose from the gas. "And of course, I won't volunteer to be one." You sneered, brushing dust off of you.

You immediately went out of the Counselor's Office, but you paused at the door thinking about that dream. You were left hanging with so many questions to ponder about. In your train of thought, Kickin' flew to you and greeted you with a hug. Suprised by his move, you snapped back to reality and returned the hug. "I'm glad you came back in one piece, y/n." He smiled at you warmly.

"Oh was there ever a time I wasn't able to?" You chuckled, looking away from him awkwardly. Sarcasm was making its way into you. Kickin' was deadpan but laughed after a few seconds. You followed his chittering.

"Hey, uh, something's gone wrong. Grab the cord from the Counselor's Office and plug it in underneath the statue!" Ollie called. Ugh, of course he'll be calling. But you have no right to object, he's one of the only few sane people here after all. "We need to reach 100%!"

"Oh yeah, right! Got it." You snapped your fingers, " Goodluck." you went back to the building, grabbed the cord, and pulled it to the statue. "Okay, what was that goodluck for?" You whispered to yourself, Kickin' was behind you watching the surroundings in case something attacks.

"Wait here." You told Kickin' as you reached the door under the statue. He nodded and looked out to the darkness, his eyes glowing fiercely.

You plugged the cord, "96%, just a little bit more," just then, you heard a sound of a key dropping. "A poppy key? For wha--oh." The poppy circuit box, of course. You then went outside and ran towards that circut box. Kickin's footsteps thumping behind. You opened the metal case and pulled out the cord, running back to the statues, you felt a slight chill ran down your spine. You paused for a moment, "What's wrong?" Kickin' asked, "Nothing. Just... I feel like something bad's gonna happen." You reckoned. Kickin' warily looked at Playcare, his eyes searching out for possible predators.

You then continued to go and left the bird yet again outside. You finally plugged in the cord. "And, a hundred perce--!" your face fell deadpan as your triumph was interrupted by Ollie's call, "Okay, that should be enough power. Now take the huge batter to the gas production zone." You looked around spot where Ollie gives you the keys, a large battery glowing blue sat there. " So we can get out of here! It's the door by the cable car you arrived on. Goodluck." The call ended. "Yeah, yeah, Ollie. I know where it is." You muttered, carrying the large heck of a battery. "And that 'goodluck' was uncalled for," walking outside, you saw Kickin' who immediately took the battery from you and walked with you to the gas production zone. "Let me help you with that."

This time, instead of Kickin' waiting outside the door, he crouched himself to go in. "I'm going with you."

"Naw! Don't worry, KC. This is just the gas production zone. No need to worry here. I'm just gonna power up the gas and transfer it to the other tube. That simple!" you reassured him but the rooster clearly wasn't convinced. He kept a raised an eyebrow at you which deflated you. "Sigh... Fine then." You also had a feeling something's up to something anyway.

The two of you proceeded in the Gas Production Zone, "Alright. Gimme the battery." Kickin' handed it to you as you grabbed it using your grabpack. You walked towards the battery socket, Kickin's feather crown raised, alarmed at the surroundings. He hissed at the eerie feeling he's having, "Hm? What's wrong, KC?" You looked back at him, he's looking straight at you. "Uh, kickin', you're scaring me with that look..." something isn't right. You went back to walking to the socket. Kickin' wasn't looking at you, he was looking at something else...

The moment you almost inserted the battery is when CatNap appeared at the door, breathing his red smoke. You coughed, "Gah! What the hell!" Immediately you heard deep crowing sounds behind you, a mix of rooster crowing and a mosnter growling.

Catnap came into vision in a form way more terrifying than he should be. You fell down as fear came crawling through your feet. He walked towards you, each step intimidating than the last. Before he can swipe his claws at you, Kickin' Chicken immediately striked his talons on Catnap's face, earning a yowl from the beast. You immediately stood up as he bought you time to run into the elevator. Amidst of the red mist you saw the two monsters fighting at each other. Growling and crowing and hissing. Fighting each other with each swipe of their claws, blood poured out of them.

You went in the elevator, pressing the button to go up. The two disappeared in the mist but as you sought retreatment in the lift, Catnap appeared in front you. He glared at you with eerie eyes and you took in his frightening form. Skeletal and colorless. Faces and hands were carved on his body, moving and bubbling creepily.

You reached the top of the lift. You panted in a bit of relief of the experience, but worried for kickin'. "No... I... I can't go back. I'm sorry." Tears welled down on your cheeks," I'm sorry, Milo." You sniffed, brushing your tears off. You walked to the red smoke-infested area. "What now?" you protested, seeing a terminal and 4 battery stations. You looked at the monitor and read, "'This room can protect you. It was a safe room before. And it might be what saves you now. Familiarize yourself with it.' Oh no. What am I going to go through now?" You gasped. But you did as you were told, exploring the area. "A gate, a blocked path which I can access through the purple hand. 4 corridors for what? And... a trapdoor?" You listed. Jumping the platforms, opening and closing the gate,you listened to an eerie black VHS tape with what appears to be the 'Prototype' or 1006. You've heard of him numerous times, it was eerie that such an entity exists. And he can change voices! You felt a chill down your spine after watching the tape.

You went back to the terminal and saw the monitor's message changed. " 'The room should still have batteries. Use them to power whatever you need to in the room.' " you scanned the room with batteries scattered around you.

" 'To the left and right side of the room, in both the front and back, there should be small acloves with terminals ready for a charge. See for yourself.' " you hoped this nightmare is about to end. You switched your purple hand to a green hand and activated the receivers. It released steam thick enough to conceal the red gas from the front corridors.

" 'With a battery placed in the receiver, the charge will allow the continuous release of steam. See for yourself.' " again, you tested the back corridors by placing a battery in each of the two sockets. Steam emerged from above.

" 'Place a battery in one of the four receivers behind this terminal. Be alert. CATNAP IS NEAR.' " you read in alarm. "Fuck NO!" You yelled at the monitor. But against your will, you put a battery in one of the terminal's socket.

" 'Time remaining: 180... 179... 178...' " you panicked, your eyes darting around the room in trepidation. "... 176... 175-- *gasp!!* " your head whirled at the back corridor. You looked back and forth to wherever the footsteps were coming from. "L-light!" You switched to your orange hand and fired at the right back corridor. "Did that... work?" Footsteps reverberated in the room, but this time it's on the front corridors. You fired again, hearing something from afar. You charged your green hand and jumped to the blocked room with the two receivers. Activating it, steam was released. Catnap was forced to back down against the steam. You jumped down breathing heavily. "So this is where the battle begins... This is it... I'm scared..." you muttered to yourself. But you remembered Kickin'--rather, Milo, who was left behind. You felt bad for leaving him... "No--I'm not gonna die here!" You said in wavering determination. "Not at this time--" footsteps interrupted you. Doing the same thing, you fired at the 4 corridors, listening to which way is groaning. "The back corridor on the left." you took a battery and placed it in the socket. Steam poured down the monster as he retreated.

Repeating the process, you fired again at the 4 corridors, you listened closely and heard there were two footsteps coming to you. "That one... is an illusuon. The other is real," you said in confirmation. Front right corridor. You charged your green hand and steam was released. Catnap yowled at you.

"Repeat." you muttered, expression guarded and focused. You were sweating bullets at your fight. This time, you can hear three footsteps coming towards you, "One illusion, one is real and... another one?" You fired the flare gun on all of the 4 corridors. One was dispelled as an illusion. One was empty. One groaned. "Back corridor on my right!" You charged the battery socket and steam emerged. A cat's growl was heard. Then the terminal cried an alarm, "Now what?!" You put a battery in one of its 4 battery stations. Two of its sockets are now full. Your focus shifted back to the battle as the other footsteps kept going. "The front left corridor..." You fired at the other three corridors as you spared and listened closely to the fourth. Faint sounds of two claws were gnawing your ear. You took the chance to look at the monitor, "109 seconds... Still too damn long." You hissed.

You attempted to fire at the front left corridor but a familiar tall shadowy figure came to vision. Suddenly an alarm rang above you, the trapdoor was opening and Catnap was sneaking a view from you. Before you could react, a swift yellow whooshed before your eyes, feathers scattering. A loud flap of wings chimed, his talon grabbing the trapdoor handle. Kickin' Chicken voiced a deafening caw at Catnap and slammed the hatch shut harshly.

"Kickin'!" You called out to him. He landed near you and he wrapped his wings around you, and you returned the gesture. But due to his size, you could only grasp his wings. "I'm so glad you're alive!" you cried. He had his right eye as hollow as void due to a clawmark. Blood was gushed out of it, he also had a slash around his torso. He was a little bit bleeding. But you hoped he took a bit of rest before coming here. You had tears, moved by his appearance despite being badly wounded. Your embracement with each other was immediately halted by an alarm. The trapdoor is opening again, Catnap seems to not have yet given up even from Kickin's caw. He hissed at the cat and flew again to shut the hatch.

"87 seconds!" you exclaimed as you shot every one of the corridors, watching out warily for Catnap. Footsteps were nearing to the two of you. "Front left corridor!" You immediately powered the electric receiver, releasing steam to drive Catnap away.

Alarms rang, the hatch is opening. Kickin' plunged to close it. You fired at the four corridors, "Back left empty, back right illusion, front right empty, on the front left!" you powered it again with your green hand and steam was let loose, sending Catnap in a screaming fit.

"68 seconds." you counted, repeating the process on the four corridors. Activating the electric receiver. You whirled and fired at the back left, "Empt--" suddenly the terminal sounded an alarm again, demanding for another battery. "Oh fu--" Kickin' immediately grabbed one of the juices and put it in one of its sockets, putting it into silence. He's the only and most chivalrous monster you've ever seen in your life. You smiled at him warmly, feeling heat on your face. Your expression changed into a hardened one as Catnap's footsteps snapped you back to reality. 'No time for daydreaming! Our lives are on the line right now.' you slapped your cheeks as you pushed down the heat on your cheeks. Kickin' took a glance at your little trance and let out a low chirp.

Firing the back right, which has the fake, the hatch slowly opened again. Kickin' growl-crowed at him and clawed his face. The cat screamed and before he could wound kickin', he immediately snapped him shut.

The two of you worked together in the remaining 1 minute. Going through the same tactics Catnap has. Then the terminal sounded one last alarm, you grabbed a battery but before you can put it in, Catnap dropped from above the hatch and pounced at you. Kickin' seized him away by his talons, he cawing at him in the process.

You stood up shakily, inserting the battery in the last battery station, lighting up the electric port.

You switched to the green hand and powered it up. "KICKIN', BACK AWAY!" you instructed him and he immediately did what you said. You fired the overcharged green hand at Catnap. He tried to exhale red smoke but it only sent him in a fiery fit. "YOU... TRAITOR!" he screamed in a hoarse voice, rolling wildly on the floor trying to put out the fire. Kickin' moved beside you, placing a wing in front of you. He was in a crouched stance, ready to protect you in case Catnap attempts to attack.

Catnap continued to scream in pain, "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO FOLLOW THE PROTOTYPE."

"I WILL NEVER." He said firmly in anger. The bird tried to attack him but a metal clawed hand emerged from above. Catnap was no longer on fire but he was almost burnt to a crisp. Yet alive as if it didn't hurt him that much.

"I... failed you... my lord..." He looked down, ears drooping. The prototype's hand flipped to look like he's offering a hand to help him. Catnap recovered and kneeled at him, as if offering and praying to him. You and kickin' were watching as the horror unfolds. 1006 stabbed Catnap by his mouth, blood gushed out from the back of his head. The Prototype then dragged his corpse up.

"......"

A/n: NUH-UH. THIS SHIT AINT FINISHED YET. *insane laughter intensifies*I only posted this now cuz this is getting a liiiiiiiittle bit too long so... here ya go, part 2! This is honestly one of the most intense things I've ever written yet in my life...