#also once again i must apologize for my terrible editing skills

[toffee-and-tandoori]

the little sebchal compilation video made by @fantaunderthesea was so cute but i'm sorry all i could think about was making this

[katsuflossy]

A Doll’s Palace

Pairing: Hawks x Reader 

TW: Angst, Mentions of maternal death, death, yandere themes, mentions of societal female expectations

A/n:  If it wasn’t for Echo and Mix, would’ve been straight booty cheeks so omg thank y’all for helping me edit this to near perfection ❤❤❤

Taglist: @johariameil @iiminibattlehero @ecao @melanimed​ @mixfi​

Chastity, Purity, Demureness, Divine Feminity: They built your enamored status and innocence in the kingdom of Braavos. A pure noblewoman is seen as the most remarkable feminine icon in society, and you involuntarily became the symbol that many women hated and men looked up to. A curse, your father had called it, as the most beautiful of your family is always the earliest to go, right after birth. Since then, you’ve grown to embody your mother, a face he so loved, and swore on his life that you would never die from a soul exchange as your mother did.

But your marriage with Takami Keigo? A reality every hopeless romantic maiden could only experience through dream. . King ‘Hawks’ was preferred by his people, an esteemed man that led millions to victory in battle with wit and millions of hearts to burst using charm. You were one in a million, the heart that won the golden ticket to strike the hawk’s heart.

Too bad, the reality was shared another lucky heart.

Red silks tailored to your natural measurements; the powdered innocent blush on your face was paralleled to the floor as your brain overflowed with thoughts. Your hands twirled the parchment scroll in your palms, but your eyes remembered the exact words inked on the paper. They jumbled with the script you’ve repeated since the crack of dawn. Midoriya fluttered about the room, making the bed you just laid in and unclogging the once cold bathwater made for you to look more ‘youthful.’ A simple day in the Crystal Queen’s life.

“Izuku?” Your manservant ceased his movement, eagerly giving his attention to you.

“Yes, my Queen?” His eyes tried to reach yours; however, they remained on the paper within your hands, slightly crinkled from when your restraint broke.

“You would tell me when I am wrong” Your irises slowly slid to his frame; pupils almost swallowed into the depths of your eye color. A shiver ran down his back . “right?”

“Y-yes, my Queen.” He didn’t dare to flinch under your gaze, which stared at him longer than what was comfortable. You ended your stare by closing your eyes, giving him a wide smile before rising from your love seat, slipping the parchment in your sleeve. Your steps passed straight by his still frozen figure until they had reached the door frame.

“Midoriya, my faithful servant.” Your voice echoed through the room like a skillful siren. His attention remained on you as you continued to speak.

“I want you in the main dining hall by eight on the dot. Please don’t be late.” You left before he could properly bow at your command.

The barren halls laughed at you, pricking your mentality, forming pairs of figures every few columns you passed. A maid was pressed against the left column just a while ago, arms wrapped around the pale neck of your husband, his arms around her peasant waist.

The one you just passed? The same maid laid her hands on Keigo’s face, smoothing out his goatee’s hairs, and he allowed her to.

The entrance of the dining hall up ahead held your heart’s worst fear. An exchange of breath, love, and intimacy that should be sacred between those wedded. Your mind pictured the peacock vase at the entrance shattering on your behalf, impaling the two’s skin. The imaginary screams were like wine to your ears as you finally entered the hall.

The area was warmed by the marble light of the great chandelier,everything was covered with the golden gleam, hiding the little splatters of deep red in the floor. A mint haired maid captured your attention.

“Your Majesty? I apologize, but the dining room is not finished for tonight’s dinner.” Her brown eyes stared at you nervously; her chubby cheek showed where her teeth bit into its flesh.

“Oh, no worries, I am just looking for now.” The fake smile stuck itself to your face as you examined the long dining table. Only a handful of food were fixated on the top.

“You make excellent food here, Cara. What beautiful carvings in the baby carrots.” You quirked up, noticing she stiffed at your last words.

“Of course, my work is only done best for you, y-your Majesty.” Your practiced laugh came through the room, instilling superficial relief in the maid.

“But I must ask, are you eating some as you cook? You’ve gotten wider in the last months.” Your hand took her chin; curious eyes roamed her plump face as she blushed by the attention.

“Haha, y-yes, I’ve been eating a little more than usual.” Her gaze shuffled to anywhere but you. She was such a terrible liar.

“As long as you’re not eating for two.” You threw your head back; melodious laughter exhausted your stomach pit. Cara barely joined in with her nervous laughter, face breaking red in embarrassment.

“Did I hear my little bird’s beautiful laughter?” The kingly presence broke into the room. Which one? You kept your tongue as Keigo wrapped you into a kiss, which sadly set your heart on fire. Your lips separated, trained eye watching as his own sneakily trailed to the kitchen maid. Your smile dulled before brightening .

“My King, I have exciting news for you.” Your face snuggled into his palm on your cheek. Hawks eyes gleamed like the most gilded of plates.

“Hm? Well, love, don’t keep me on my toes. Let me hear it.” You relished in his arms wrapped around your midsection before pulling out of his embrace, bopping him on the nose.

“That’s the purpose.o keep you anxious until the grand reveal.” Your smile started to burn your cheeks as you watched the room’s bustle, preparing for a grand disaster.

Violins and Cellos played throughout the dining hall as the dinner began. The long table set with food separated you and Keigo, each taking the farthest end. Playful looks and banters were exchanged between the two as the servants lined against the walls, ready for even the most subtle commands. After laughing at one of Keigo’s pun, you clapped, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Well, it was all a joyous evening, but I must bring attention to the evening’s highlight: the surprise.” Hawks quirked up in curiosity. The rest of the maids and Midoriya exchanged curious glances but did not say a word. You rose from your seat, hand gliding across the table’s surface.

“As you know, I am a lady of chastity, not by will, but by curse.” Your steps drew closer to your king.

“My father wishes nothing of seeing me carrying a little one. You, my king, are a young man, one who’s drive is active. A man who wishes to grow old with children around as you said at our first ball.” You were only a mere meter away from his seated figure, close enough to watch his adam’s apple bob in nervousness.

“Yes? But my little bird, why is this such an important announcement.”

“Be patient, my love. I am getting to that.” You were half a meter away from him now; his brow held the slightest furrow in them. Cara shuffled in the corner of your eye.

“Well, I begged my father, being of a monogamous nation, and it was hard. Harems were long abandoned in the kingdom of Braavos, but I did it.” You pulled from your sleeves the parchment paper and gave it to Keigo, whose eyes were full of anxiety. He opened the scroll to read.

“In the Kingdom of Fukuoka, the King will have the privilege of a harem, up to 20 women. He will be able to officially appear with them at balls, sleep with them, and—” his eyes flicker to you with shock before rereading what was written. “—procreate with them.”

You smiled before pointing to the end of the paper.

“Only if the Queen, rightfully crowned and inaugurated, is given the parenthood of all children birthed by the harem. The Queen will also be able to have a harem of her own, whether sexually or not.”

Hawks’ wings rose, eyes looking at you in disbelief. You lifted his face close to yours.

“Don’t worry, love. I only have eyes for you. Though,what happened to equality and freedom? The two things you fight for?” Your eyes flickered to Cara, whose face was red with anger. Keigo already took the pen from your sleeves and signed the paper.

“S-stop! This law c-can’t pass !” Her voice broke the cheery atmosphere, riddling it with confusion. The maids began to whisper frantically. You rose a brow at her outburst.

“And why is that? You have no say in royal affairs, kitchen maid.” Her eyes began to water, falling down her fat cheeks onto her fabric.

“P-please, d-don’t take my baby.” The room fell deadly silent after her plea. You ripped your hands from Hawks’ body, face morphing in shock.

“What do you mean, ‘your baby’?” Your eyes turned to Hawks, who sat silent. You could see the gears turning in his head to construct a lie.

“Hawks. What does she mean ‘your baby’?” His gears steamed before stopping abruptly, giving up on filing an excuse. His hands reached out to hold you.

“I can explain.” You moved quickly out of his range before halting him in his tracks.

“You can explain? Do you know how embarrassing that is to me? If it’s true, you’ve been cheating on me for months! Knowing that I couldn’t even bear for you!” Your heart pained you as the night you found out, reliving the shock and betrayal over again.

You were breaking character. Taking a deep breath, you turned away from your husband, a tear slowly streaking your face.

“We’ll talk about this when there aren't any spectators. Cara, bring out the special wine I’ve asked you to make for the celebration. I hope you two are happy.” Cara still stood on the spot, by fear and resistance. You turned to her; wide eyes staring straight into her soul.

“Now.” She ran to the kitchen, hand over mouth to hide her whimpers.

“Midoriya, help the pregnant lady out. It’ll be a shame if she broke her back or something.” Midoriya jumped up, running in the same direction as Cara.

“(Y/n), let me explain please—”

“There is nothing to explain; just enjoy your wine and celebrate.” The bitter sarcasm rolling off your tongue in waves. Cara and Midoriya entered the hall. Her eyes strong with will and face wiped of tears. Midoriya poured the wine for Hawks, filling his chalice to the brim. The winged king sighed and took an immediate gulp. You immediately turned to Cara, your eyes evoking sadness.

“I can’t even be in the same place as you two right now.” You stormed out of the dining room, leaving only the sounds of your shoes hitting the floor.

The candle lights flickered as Hawks entered your shared bedroom, dressed and cleaned for bed. You sat on your loveseat from the afternoon, now twirling a diamond ring on your finger. As he stood in front of you, your eyes remained on your hand.

“My love please forgive m—”

“Why?” You looked up at him; pupils dilated.

“Why should I?” He stepped back, startled to see the pain he had inflicted on you. He stared into your wide eyes for a moment longer until he knelt down, knees touching the red carpet’s wool. His hands clasped your own stopping the continuous twirl of your marriage symbol before wetting his dry lips.

“For a young royal bachelor, I was loved by all types of power-hungry men and women; they flocked me with compliments, ideas, whispers, promises. But you, you were the one that saw who I was behind my status, a young boy who lost his parents. A coward put into the place of a king before he could even blink. You saw the real me, and still, you didn’t turn away. We both embrace our vulnerabilities from each other, and if—” His Adam's apple bobbed, throat restricting as a tear fell from his eye. You shuffled in discomfort, your own tears brimming at his speech.

“—if I could take back what I had done, I would do so immediately, within a heartbeat. But she bears my child, and I...I can’t leave it as my father left me.” His neck strained to look up at you, forcing himself not to choke down a cry.

You laid your other hand on his own. Your tears were staining your cheek as you nodded your head frantically, taking him in your arms. He pulled you into a kiss, minty breath intertwining with your own as the candle flames swayed with the emotions.

The scream you let out in the morning had maids and guards rushing to your room. King Takami Keigo was found dead after you both went to sleep. Few hours from the coroner revealed he died of poison.

You walked down the winding stairs of the dungeon with Midoriya by your side. The last cell held a meager amount of light, only showing the mint green hair of Cara. She jumped at the sounds of your footsteps. You ambled up until the bars could touch your toes.

“To kill your very own king is a crime punishable by death.” She wracked in the chains, trying to get closer to you.

“I didn’t kill him! I swear it wasn’t me!”

“It wasn’t you?” You took the chalice from Midoriya, holding it up to the ceiling as if you were inspecting it.

“This was the last thing he consumed before coming to bed, so the maids say.” Your eyes turned back to the ex-kitchen maid who burst into tears; head bowed in shame.

“Everything has pointed to you, but I understand. I’d kill if the love of my life betrayed me too. I’d use the same exact poison too, Aqua Tofana, the famous poison used by many hurt women to end their lovers.” Her head creaked back to your figure, eyes widening with the growing smirk on your face.

“Although the law states you should serve immediate death, I don’t want that precious baby to go along with you. It’s my last semblance of Keigo, after all. So, as Queen of Fukuoka, I have decided to spare you until the baby has been born. You will stay in this jail cell with ample nursing so my child will be born safe and healthy. That is all.”

You and Midoriya left the dark dungeon, Cara’s screams echoing through the hollow area. Your smirk never softening as you climbed up the stairs, hand still holding Keigo's chalice.

Midoriya laid anxious the whole time. After all, he was guilty of killing the king, adding the poison to the wine when Cara wasn’t looking. His silence finally broke.

“My Queen? Why did you make me...do that?” You halted your steps, pondering as you looked at the golden chalice.

“Keigo would’ve never loved me again. She gave him what I couldn’t, a child to love. He would’ve rather played father with an actual mother, a mother who’d know how to love a child. So I had to stop that before I lost my throne.” Your fingers skimmed the actual feather-covered by gold on the cup, feeling its ridges and bumps.

“Izuku?”

“Yes, my Queen?”

“You would tell me when I’m wrong, right?

“Yes, my Queen.”

[jordanr770-blog]

America Needs Some Talent

 I just needed someplace to write down my thoughts so here we are!

I have been watching America’s Got Talent since season 11 when the ukulele girl won. I personally didn’t vote for her but can understand why she won. Same goes for season 12. I was rooting super hard for Diavolo but can understand why puppet girl won. Season 13 had some of the best acts ever (Shin Lim-winner) and I know a lot of people disliked her, but Courtney Hadwin should have at least  gotten 5th place over sob story “I’m such a good person and I hit my wife” Michael Ketterer. Kodi Lee was the obvious winner of season 14 and I personally thought he deserved it over the other acts. Other people did not think it was well deserved, and that’s ok too.  

Last season we got a spoken word poet in the form of Brandon Leake. I did not enjoy the act AT ALL and was kind of mad that he won, but I will say that even though I did not enjoy him, spoken word poetry is indeed a talent.

Now, you may be thinking that season 16 would be a smidgeon of an improvement over season 15. Talent and reality shows should probably strive to become better every season. But if you thought this show isn’t capable of getting any worse, you haven’t been paying attention because this show will always find ways to disappoint. Last night we were told everyone voted for an INSPIRATIONAL speech giver as the winner. Or I’m sorry, apparently he does magic. His name is Dustin Tavella. But the thing is, he was HORRIBLE at both storytelling AND magic and nowhere near deserved the win. “It was well deserved.” How? How is a kindergarten level “magician” worth a million dollars and a Vegas show? I believe the show in Vegas is about an hour and a half and I am curious as to what is he going to do in that timeframe? Talk about how the folks living in Vegas are living in sin while simultaneously throwing paper in the air MAGICALLY? I’m sure the audience will go wild over that. Or maybe during all of his shows he will adopt a kid a day from different countries and then spend about an hour talking about Little ZimZam’s harsh life and while he’s babbling  he’ll be semi incorporating his poor magic skills into the act in the last minute so the poster stating he’s a magician didn’t TECHNICALLY lie so nobody is getting their money back. I really don’t know. I have a lot of thoughts. 

Plus, his sob story just did nothing for me whatsoever. Good for you for adapting 11 children, unless it has to do with whatever your act is, shut the hell up and do the trick! Not once did this guy impress  or give even the best of a performance of the night. It was always 8+ minutes of “inspiration” and tirades about how we as a society need to be good to one another whilst doing crappy magic. Let me tell you, I know next to nothing about magic but even I could tell he was a less than stellar magician. Even calling him a magician is somewhat laughable. In reality he's a motivational speaker who does terrible magic tricks and  who always somehow manages to suck at said terrible magic but America apparently doesn’t notice him screwing up his terrible magic because he’s too busy telling them to look at a crumpled up piece of paper or a ladder or the new photograph of his adopted son who has an extra eyeball or whatever. It’s stupid.

Last night for his final performance Dustin’s act was, and I kid you not, telling us all to be nice. FOR SEVEN UNNECESSARY MINUTES. And I do believe he started to fake cry. Dude, you’re acting is about as good as Heidi Klum’s. You can't act and you can barely do magic. Why are you here? What is your talent? Did he really join a talent show to become some type of inspirational God of obvious wisdom? If that’s the case, he should have gone and done a Ted Talk, many less victims of mediocrity that way. America somehow  put him in the top 5 with actually talented people? I think not. The act itself was not impressive and he did the same thing every time, just told a different sob story. If you have to rely on a sad story to win, you don’t deserve to win a show where talent is the main objective. 

In case my last few paragraphs were not made abundantly clear, I am not a fan of this dude. At all. I read a comment which stated that a message is not a talent and whoever said that is 100% correct and summed up my feelings pretty accurately. I'm not a fan or boring and basic tricks combined with even worse stories. He's the living embodiment of a motivational meme and anyone who voted for this guy is  gullible and can fight me. Maybe people “voted” for him because he attempted to pull on the heartstrings? But because I sold my heart long ago his act didn’t effect me as much. /s But I swear every year they make it more clear that the entire show is rigged. 

Well, maybe the voting ISN’T rigged entirely and all the boomers  (first time I’ve ever used that term) and antivaxxers and easily swayed by sob story people on Twitter and Facebook voted for him. Doubtful, but you never know. HE WAS SO FREAKING BAD!!!

We are all allowed to have opinions and just because you don’t agree with me that doesn’t mean I am an awful person who deserves DEATH. I keep getting responses and messages on Twitter from angry folk who are calling me heartless because I questioned WHY they voted for him. “Well, IIIII gave Dustin all 10 of my votes!” That’s nice Karen. That is also not an answer and I cannot stress enough how much I do not care that you voted for the phony used cars salesman. Go tell your Prince from Nigeria all about it. Another guy got mad and reported me for “yelling at strangers.” Which is kind of a typical thing people do on Twitter. And I wasn’t even yelling! Lol. 

And another point I’d like to make (about this and  in general) is people really need to stop using the terms “all of us” and the word “we.” I am my own person and you do not get to speak for me. 

“We were all crying when we saw him perform!” - No WE most certainly weren’t. I was seething with anger, yes. Crying? Not even close.

“His magic touched all of our hearts!” WHAT MAGIC? WHERE WAS THE MAGIC IN THIS MANS ENTIRE ACT? I MUST HAVE MISSED IT AFTER I PASSED OUT FROM HIS 7 MINUTE LONG STORY ABOUT HIS BORING LIFE. 

His win was a complete insult.

* I personally voted for Aidan Bryant, but I really wanted Unicircle Flow to win before they got kicked off due to the judges having a tendency to suck at picking during judges choice. *

Edit: I apologize if this wasn’t articulated very well or if it seems I basically said the same thing over and over. To be fair it was 3 am when I wrote this and I was still irritated and questioning everything. Still doesn’t excuse the fact that this guy was lame and doesn’t deserve a Vegas show. My mom told me earlier today that people on the Internet are mad about his win and that it’s not fair to take it out on the guy, which I suppose is kind of true. Not exactly his fault the general public has failed and shown their stupidity yet again. If anyone is to blame it is the people who actually voted for this doofus. And AGT. And yeah, I guess I will blame him as well. But I’m not saying go to his Twitter or Instagram or whatever and call him out for being a con artist and bully him. 

I think the MESSAGE =P I’m trying to display here  is that someone has no business being on a talent show unless they have talent; self explanatory. A message isn’t talent. Being a narcissist isn’t talent. Exploiting your kids and wife isn’t talent. Speaking can be a talent (comedy, that poetry guy, acting, improv, probably a lot of other stuff I’m forgetting about) but one shouldn’t call themselves a magician if one is really a way less cool garage sale version of Talky Tina. Magic IS talent but if you want a million dollars you better have skills that are on par or better than the professionals. 

[callmefitz]

HomeBound, a TTP Fic

PSA- I don’t know how to do the “read more” thing and this is a long fic so, apolgies in advance for this long post. Also I wrote this at midnight in my notes app with absolutely no editing so, read at your own risk.

Summary: It’s been weeks since the Crown Prince of the Heartlands, Prince Wensclaus ran away from home. During his absence, he’s taken a spunky aspiring knight under his wing to distract from the pain of his disapproving parents. Although, anyone can tell it’s more than that. He genuinely cares for the kid. As for his own family, however, they are not content to lose him. Featuring aro/ace future Wensclaus, a non-binary TTP OC I made named Law, and an older, wiser, but generally unchanged Joan.

————-

Although it’s been years since Wensclaus has been to the Hinterlands, there’s something familiar about the way the wind whips at his hair, heavy with the promise of rain. There’s something familiar about the dull, incessant roar of leaves in the breeze, and there’s something familiar about the dry crunch of dirt beneath his heels as he bites his lower lip, drawing blood as he parries and ripostes a rather impressive attack to his left side.

This place definitely had never held the warm glow of home to him, but the landscape tugged at Polaroid memories all the same.

His assailant, far more used to the northernmost elements than Wensclaus, circled at a wide radius, letting limp their wrist in exertion and dragging the point of their sword in the dirt. Their face was leveled in an annoyed glare (it was rather early). Beneath their tunic, their chest rose and fell in quick succession.

“Careful,” Wensclaus muttered, “We just had the blacksmith sharpen that.”

His adversary lept back into action, once again assuming a rather bold offensive strategy, yet left their form with much to be desired. At any moment, really, he could send them toppling on their back, but this skirmish wasn’t staged for the purpose of an expedient victory.

Although they only employed a handful of successful attacks on Wensclaus, he couldn’t help but to find himself surpised by their skill level. That, or the fact that without the rigid background of swordsman training, they were afforded the ability to combine techniques in a fluid manner without so much as a second thought. It was a skill that he himself envied.

The sparring match between the pair often drawn a crowd of onlookers, as entertainment in the Hinterlands dwindled after Barrabas returned to the Midlands. However, the mist on the plains had yet to evaporate and the cock had yet to crow, so they were alone in their back and forth dance.

Or so they thought.

Through the mist, an imposing horseback figure drew closer and closer, regarding the fight with vague curiosity. She watched the epic climax, and subsequent end, as the younger swordsperson unexpectedly threw Wensclaus off balance and tumbling to the ground.

“Do you yield,” Law said with a false air of suave.

“Ah, I’ve been bested,” Wensclaus replied in a similar play of false airs, “I yield, I yield! Spare me, lest I suffer a worser fate.”

Law laughed and held out a hand to Wensclaus and pulled him up.

“Good work with your offense,” Wensclaus praised, “Your footwork has improved greatly.”

“While yours has only grown sloppier since you’ve been gone.” The mystery spectator cut in. Her horse drew closer in the mist, and with horrifying realization Wensclaus realized it was his Aunt Joan. She dismounted and strode towards the pair.

Wensclaus gripped his sword, unsure if he wanted a fight or a reunion.

The head knight in question stood with an innate intimidating posture that made Wensclaus feel like a child again. However, that clearly wasn’t the case; Wensclaus had grown into his gangly limbs and assumed a self-assured posturer, and the constant eroding factor of time had etched wrinkles into Joan’s face and dusted Grey into her hair.

“Look, It’s the no-fun police,” Law scowled, crossing their arms, yet hiding slightly behind Wensclaus. He only sighed.

“Your fathers have been worried sick for you, Wensclaus,” Joan said softly, “they miss you terribly.”

Wensclaus kicked a stone, “Thats very inconvenient for them. I hope they feel better.”

“Wen-“

“No.” Wensclaus shouted. He wanted to continue, but he then became hyper-aware of Law, himself over seven years their senior, ducking behind the heavy mass of his cloak and gripping it slightly. He sighed. Not here.

“Can we continue this somewhere else?”

——

After a whispered argument that warmed Wensclaus’s heart but ultimately convinced him of Law’s protective yet stubborn nature, he found himself seated across the table from Joan in the only tavern in town and Law sulking outside as they waited for the adults to finish up. A daunting mug of root beer sat in front of him, which was much more interesting than the steely grey eyes of his pseudo-aunt.

“I can’t believe they sent my babysitter to come pick me up,” Wensclaus began, deciding to skip the small talk and poke the sleeping elephant with a stick. Or whatever the idiom is about.

“Wensclaus,” Joan began.

“Like, ok, they have a kingdom to run, but I’ve seen my Dad pull holidays out of his ass so we could have a vacation. They could have come themselves-“

“Your fathers did not send for me, Wensclaus.” Joan cut Wensclaus off with an impressive gulp of definetly-not-root beer. “I doubt they even know where you are. Not that they haven’t been searching, of course. As far as they’re concerned, I’m farther up North to check up on a dwarf problem your Uncle Darling is having.”

Wensclaus’s face drew up as he straightened in his booth. “Wait, then how did you-“

“It just made sense,” Joan replied, “You experienced perceived rejection and to cope you returned back to the place where you first received rejection. The little knight you found, however, was a nice touch. They’re coming along quite nicely. I’m proud.”

The explicit praise did not fly over Wensclaus’s head, “I’m that predictable, huh?”

“You’re not predictable, just human,” Joan shrugged, then at Wensclaus’s face, continued, “That’s just what Cecily has been telling me. And for the record, I’m not telling them you’re here until you’re ready to be found.”

Wensclaus leaned back in his chair and stared down at the frothy mess of his root-beer.

“They all miss-“

“It’s just hard.” Wensclaus said, without emotion. Joan remained quiet this time.

“It’s hard when, you know, everyone is talking about you, like, oh look at Prince Wensclaus! He’s like, I don’t know, in his mid-twenties, and tied down to no one,” Wensclaus laughed dryly, “His parents, they were married by age eighteen. Basically invented love and all that shit. How massive of a failure do you have to be to not love anyone when those are your role models?”

“You must be pretty fucked up.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “God it’s just... it’s so hard. I’m nothing like them and... it’s so hard.”

“You love me, don’t you?” Joan said, “And what about your Aunt Cecily?”

Wensclaus regraded Joan strangely, “Well, yeah, but not like-“

“What about your Uncles up North, Darling and Percy?” Joan continued, “Or your little knight?”

“Joan, it’s not like-“

“Your fathers?” Joan pressed, “Do you not love them?”

“I do, Joan, but that doesn’t count!” Wensclaus snapped. A few patrons across the bar glanced over. Face flushing, Wensclaus lowered his voice and relaxed his clenched fists, “That’s not the point, it-“

“You’re right,” Joan said, “The point is that you feel angry because of the high expectations inadvertently placed on your shoulders by your fathers because you’re different. But to say you love no one is so... far from the truth. Love takes many forms, and they can all be fulfilling.”

Wensclaus gave no response, instead favoring the mug in his hands than making eye contact with Joan. He was holding himself back from lashing out again.

“When I came out to my father, as both gay and a knight,” Joan began, “He tried to fix me.”

This caught Wensclaus’s attention.

“He set me up with all kinds of guys,” Joan laughed, “even a pig farmer. Enrolled me in all these classes for lady-etiquette and had me fitted for a ball gown corset. I was so angry, I ran away.”

“But you and your dad get along great,” Wensclaus said, “He’s over at your and Aunt Cecily’s cottage almost every weekend.”

“Now we get along great,” Joan corrected, “But this was all when you were very young.”

This satisfied Wensclaus’s confusion.

“I guess in the end he was afraid for me and afraid for himself,” Joan said, “Everything I was doing he had never seen done before, and that was scary. When people are scared, they do dumb things, like threaten to estrange their children.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Wensclaus asked slowly.

“When Cecily found out about what my father had threatened, she marched her little sequined self down to the pub he was hiding out in and gave him a piece of her mind,” Joan continued, “After you left, that’s exactly what I did to your fathers.”

“What?” Wensclaus finally cracked a smile, “You yelled at my dads?”

Joan shrugged, “It’s not the first time. I love them, Wensclaus, I really do, but they can be incredibly thick sometimes.”

That sobered him up, “Yeah.”

“They reacted the way they did not because they didn’t love you anymore, Wens,” Joan reaches across the table and grabbed his hand, “They reacted that way because what you were describing was something they had never seen done before, and they were scared for what that meant for you.”

“That still doesn’t make it right,” he replied.

“You’re right. It was wrong, which is exactly why Rupert has written and rewritten his formal apology to you several dozen times, so you know that in fourteen different languages that he loves you no matter what,” Joan replied, “And Amir is currently drafting legislation to nationally recognize aromanticism as a romantic identity and provide funding to revise public service announcements to include it. It was wrong of them to react the way they did, and they only thing they want in the world is to take it back.”

“Wow, I-“ Wensclaus suddenly found himself speaking through tears, “I don’t-“

“I’m not going to force you to come home before you’re ready,” Joan said steadily, “But I want you to know that when you are, there’s a place for you.”

It was embarrassing, the way that Wensclaus began sobbing in the tavern like that. The eyes of half a dozen hitherlandians landed on his shaking frame as the head knight of the heartlands held him to her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair, just like she used to when he had nightmares about the Despair. But this was so much worse, because this was not about an enemy he could defeat; rather, it was the floodgates of relief mixing with the festering hurt that had been building in him ever since he stepped foot out of the palace gates. Dimly, he was aware of the soft reassurances his aunt whispered into his ear, but in his determination to speak through his tears it all was mush.

“I want to go home,” he said hoarsely, and he felt the same relief within Joan.

—-

As the door to the tavern opened, Law jumped up from the ground and ran up to Wensclaus. However, after they took in his tear-stained face and Joan’s arm on his shoulder, they stumbled back, as if flinching in pain and disbelief.

“So you’re going back?” Law seethed, “Just like that?”

Wensclaus made brief eye contact with Joan, who released her arm from his shoulder and walked off with a nod. He returned his attention to Law and wiped his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, “I’m going back. I can’t hide here forever.”

“But they said-“

“And they realized they were wrong,” Wensclaus finished, “I want to give them another chance before I cut them off entirely. If Joan can do it... then I guess I can too.”

His rationalization only caused his mentee to spiral further, “A-And what are you going to do, huh? Just.... leave me here?”

Wensclaus’s face drew up as an emotional knife stabbed cleanly through his heart. This scene felt all too familiar, except never from this perspective.

“No, no, of course not. No. Never. You’re going to come with me and Joan,” he said, placing his arms in Law’s shoulders in an attempt to ground them, “I mean, only if that’s what you want.”

“I won’t fit in,” Law said quietly, “It will be... weird.”

Wensclaus laughed, “I didn’t fit in either. It’s not that weird.”

In a conspiratorial tone, he added, “Plus, everyone there is weird. Just wait until you meet my Uncle Darling.”

That caused Law to smile as they held their hands on top of Wensclaus’s on their shoulders.

“Wensclaus,” Joan called out from her horse, “Little Knight.”

The pair glanced up from their conversation as Joan trotted closer.

“You coming?”

Wensclaus straightened up, leaving a hand in Law’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

[my-arlington-academia]

Teasing Tadashi fic 😊💘💝

I swear I was writing this before chapter 9 came out! At first this was supposed to be more angsty until I remembered that I suck at writing angst and that... I don't enjoy writing it as much as reading it from someone else soooo... have fluff!!!💖💕 in the original script Scholar, Ellie, Tyler and Axel had formed an "alliance" to prank Tadashi. But after a while he started feeling like they hated him and that he was getting bullied, I almost made him cry then I was like "nope. nu-huh. I can't write this." Of course there was comfort at the end with them apologizing and Scholar explaining that the reason why she was messing with his so much was because she had a crush on him and had no idea how to deal with it.

Uhh... anyway! To brighten up I made this and I'm much more happier with it! Well you guys know the drill, last time I wrote Scholar as a he so Scholar is a she again in this one. And I realized that I'm switching only between the she/her and he/him pronouns but that's because I'm not confident in using they/them, I'm scared that if there's a group of people in my fic, it'll be confusing because the readers will think "wait, is it the group of people or is it Scholar that the narrator is talking about?" It may be a really stupid reason but this is the type of thing I'm sure I can mess up with because I'm a dummy dum 😖

Also, Layelle's super cute drabble inspired me (*cough* @arlingtonssweetheart *cough*) so this fic will have a lil bit of Japanese too. And it'll be written like this. This fic is about 2000 words long and for some reason I wasn't able to put a "read more" like usual... probably because I'm on mobile. I'm terribly sorry about that! You guys will have to scroll through all of that... 😖

edit: I added the “read more” thingy!

Okay! Enough rambling!! Please Enjoy! ✊��🤗

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When she met him, Scholar knew right away just how fun it would be to mess with the student body president. His back was always arched and he spoke in a slightly presumptuous manner. He had a very confident walk, he always knew exactly where he was going and his handshake was very solid. He was overall a really proud and level-headed person... which would make it really satisfying if he were to lose that pride even if it was just for a few seconds.

Scholar's intention wasn't to bully him, of course. At least not in a mean way. But whenever she got the chance to tease him, she took it. At first she wasn't making a conscious effort out of it but gradually, as time went by, her head started filling up and she would always think about Tadashi. It was becoming harder and harder to focus in class with the target of her affection seated right next to her. However, she at least had the decency to wait until the end of the lesson for the teasing, she didn't want him to think that she was being a bother.

"Tadashi, teach me something in Japanese."

Without any warning, Scholar whispered in his ear and as expected, he got a jolt. Tadashi would definitely be the type of person to use ASMR to fall asleep, his sense of hearing is so sharp. With how close her face was he wasn't able to look at her in the eye and answered while still looking ahead.

"What do you want to know?"

Scholar backed away from Tadashi's personal space and smiled warmly. However instead of smiling back, Tadashi got chills down his spine. He knew that this was the smile she always used before teasing him in ridiculous and sappy ways.

"Tell me how to say "you're beautiful" pretty pleaaase?"

He already knew where this was going, yet he answered anyway.

"You're beautiful"

"Aww... thank you"

He knew this was coming. He knew and yet he still blushed and became red like a beet while Scholar looked really proud of herself, as if she had just pulled off the smoothest move even though it was really absurd.

"You're being so silly right now..."

He was trying his hardest to act like he was reading through his notes, but really, he just wanted his blush to disappear as soon as possible. Lately, because of Alistair's words he had become even more self-conscious than before. His friend's remark crawled back into his mind and it wasn't leaving anytime soon.

"Dude. You obviously have a crush on her."

You obviously have a crush on her.

You obviously have a crush on her...

You have a crush on her.

As always, he wasn't able to calm down at all or to fool Scholar with his lackluster acting skills. Or more precisely, his nonexistent acting skills. Scholar crossed her arms on the desk and put her chin down on them while still gazing at him. From the corner of his eyes, Tadashi could see her still staring and it made him even more nervous.

"S-Scholar... please, stop staring at me. It's distracting me."

Scholar swiftly poked Tadashi's cheek with her finger and hid her fond smile with her other arm, she almost had her face buried in it.

"And you're the one to say that? I'm always distracted by how cute you are all the time Mister student body president."

"I-I am not cute. And please move your finger away from my cheek."

That was a complete lie. Even though he was really embarrassed about doing stuff like this in public, he loved getting teased by Scholar and most of all, physical contact. Had he not been so stuck-up and shy, he would hug Scholar the next time they would be alone together, but everytime they were he got too prideful. Or rather, he would feel really embarrassed and hurt if Scholar, for some reason, pushed him away or laughed at his open display of affection. Whenever he was with Scholar, all kinds of cheesy thoughts would fill up in his mind. I want to hug her, I want to hold her hand, I want to snuggle with her, I want to...

......

And the bell rang, it was time for the next and last period of the day. Scholar gently pulled on his cheek like he was a little kid and moved her hand away to pack her bag. She had to move to another classroom. Unfortunately, they did not have the last lesson of the day together.

"See you later Dashi! And you better not forget what I asked of you yesterday, okay?"

"I-I haven't forgotten! See you soon..."

That's right. It was February 14th today. It wasn't rare of Scholar to invite him to hang out after school but today was a tad bit different. He knew it was stupid to get his hopes up but he really couldn't focus on anything at all. The text message he received yesterday was stuck in his mind. It was a simple "let's meet up in front of the school entrance when the last bell rings" and thankfully, since he can't stutter through texts, he replied with a really composed "Alright, I'll be there." And yet, words couldn't express how frustarted he was the whole day. He didn't follow anything at all in class, he just took notes of random things that sounded important in between his monologues. It was like he was daydreaming 8 hours in a row.

By the end of it he didn't care anymore. He'll just ask Alistair for his notes or something, he'll figure it out. When the last bell rang, Tadashi was the first one to leave the classroom. His classmates of the business, commerce and politics department looked at him in shock. They were already whispering behind his back as he was leaving in a hurry.

"...Maybe he really wanted to go to the bathroom?"

"That must be it!"

But no. He did have butterflies in his stomach but it was not because he wanted to go to the bathroom. He rushed to the school entrance. Now that he thinks about it, this is a weird meeting spot. Usually Scholar would ask him to meet up in the garden or in the cafeteria lounge. Honestly, this was a really awkward place. In a couple of seconds, hundreds of students would rush out to go to their rooms in the dorms and drop their school bags on the ground like dumbbells. Is she going to tease him in front of all the students of this school? God please no. While Tadashi was lost in his thoughts, Scholar came out of... the garden. With a bouquet of red roses.

"You're awfully early Tadashi, did you run to get here? You do know that it's against the school rules to run in the hallways, right? You're not being a really good role model Prez."

But Tadashi didn't listen anymore. All he saw was the huge roses and Scholar holding them with a small blush on her cheeks. Was she seriously about to confess to him in this open space? How did she even have enough time to go fetch the roses? The bell just rang about 30 seconds ago! Could it be possible that she begged Dr.Lee to let her go 5 minutes earlier than usual? ...Well, no matter how she pulled that off, Tadashi was achieving new shades of reds right now. On his face of course.

"I-I apologize if I have the wrong idea but... those roses, are they for me?"

A few students started getting out of the building, and they couldn't just pass next to the scene that was unfolding before their eyes. One by one, they would slowly make a circle around them. Scholar extended her arms towards Tadashi, holding the bouquet with both hands.

"For who else would it be?"

Before Tadashi could even mutter a "thank you" and take the flowers, in a really unnatural manner, Scholar let go of it and the roses fell to the ground.

"Oops! I'm soooo sorry!"

But Tadashi was too submerged in emotion to even notice the bad acting, and so, just as planned, he got down on one knee and took the bouquet. At this point, more and more students were coming out of the school building and like all the others, they were making a circle around them. The small gathering of students soon became a herd, and all eyes were on Tadashi, kneeling down with a bouquet of roses. To make this moment last a bit longer, Scholar stepped on his left foot.

"Umm... Scholar, I have to get up. Move your foot away."

Poor little Tadashi still hadn't caught on what was happening and he looked up towards Scholar, only to see that warm smile again. The one she used when she was teasing him, and he once again got shivers down his spine. After that he looked around. And immediately regretted it. Practically half of the school was gathered around them, watching the scene in awe. That's when Tadashi finally understood what had happened. No matter how you look at it, it seemed like Tadashi was the one confessing his feelings to Scholar, even though it was supposed to be the other way around. One knee on the ground, bouquet of red roses in hand, looking up at Scholar and most of all looking mortified. Not to mention it was February 14th so of course it couldn't be taken in any other way. Tadashi was done for. Only the first few students knew that Scholar was originally the one holding the bouquet, the majority who came later had the wrong idea. And it was all according to Scholar's plan.

Tadashi cursed under his breath.

"Dammit. She got me again..."

As for the lively students, the loud whispers couldn't be stopped.

"Oh my God. I knew it, it was so obvious that Tadashi had a crush on this scholarship student."

"I see them hanging out together in the garden and in the cafeteria lounge almost everyday, do they think they're being discreet?"

"Fuck, where's my phone? I gotta film this..."

"I never thought Mister Prez was the type to pull off that kind of thing, he has balls, that's for sure."

"Duuuuude. What a show-off! I bet he's pressuring her into accepting his feelings, that's why he did it here."

"Not a surprise. The crowd will put more pressure on her and it'll be hard to refuse, Tadashi that witty bastard! Using all of his assets in this way is so not fair!"

Tadashi was mentally begging for Scholar to let him run away from here. When they got surrounded by enough people to her liking, she took the bouquet out of his hands and removed her foot which allowed him to stand up again. Of course, the crowd cheered and whistled thinking that she had just accepted the confession while it was not it at all. Scholar grabbed Tadashi's hand and ran with him to the garden by pushing through the herd of students. Someone screamed "DON'T DO ANYTHING RAUNCHY IN THE GARDEN! USE PROTECTION KIDS!"

That voice... goddammit. It was definitely Raquel. Great. Tadashi looked like he was in physical pain from thinking about what kind of reactions his friends would have after this.

Once they reached their usual spot in the garden, Scholar gave back the flowers to Tadashi. He was panting and still red as a beet. Thankfully, the crowd had the decency to not follow them but they still ran just in case.

"Agh... Scholar... I... cannot believe what you just pulled on me. I got bamboozled so hard, I'm mad at myself for letting my guard down. And here I thought that you wouldn't tease me at least in a serious moment like this."

"Haha... All according to keikaku."

"Oh my God... I can't fucking believe you would do this to me."

"I can."

Tadashi looked so drained, like 5 years just got sucked out of him in a few seconds. That embarrassement, he would remember it until the day he dies. Now everybody thinks that he has a huge crush on Scholar and that they're dating... Not that they're wrong but still!

"We... wait. Scholar, does it mean that we're dating now?"

Suddenly, Scholar looked a little bit vulnerable, she was planning this for a while now so she was mentally prepared but it was still nerve-wrecking in a way. Tadashi wasn't the most self-aware person out there. Or to be more accurate: he was dense at a unimaginable level.

"You... don't want to? You don't like me?"

"What?! N-no! Of course I like you! More than like I..."

He really wanted to say it. He really did, but using the word "love" right away, would that freak her out? He didn't want to make any missteps nor scare her away the really first day of them dating.

"N-nevermind that! Does it mean that all this time when you were teasing me, that was actually fliritng?"

There it is. The dense Tadashi. Scholar mentally facepalmed herself so hard.

"I've been trying to flirt with you for the past 5 months but thanks for noticing I guess."

Tadashi was reminded of all of the times Scholar would tirelessly pick on him, mess with him, make fun of him and borderline bully him. Had he not known the type of brilliant and kind person she really was, he could've easily mistook all of it as her messing around with him to be annoying. Thankfully, even though he was as dense as a brick, he was at least able to understand and make that distinction: she was obviously not trying to be a jerk.

"Oh... Oh... I see. But you could've been more direct! How was I supposed to understand that this was f-flirting??"

"Dashi. Sweetie. The only way for me to be more direct than that would've been yelling at the top of my lungs that I love you... You didn't like the teasing-flirting?"

Tadashi shook his head almost violently.

"N-NO! Absolutely not, I like it... I think... no uh. I definitely like it! Actually if we could, um..."

He opened his arms and looked down in shame with an obvious blush on his face.

"C-can I have a hug... please? It would make me happy..."

This was the most adorable thing Tadashi had ever done. Scholar immediately jumped in his arms, the poor boy had already been teased a whole lot today. While Scholar buried her face in his chest, Tadashi was holding her as tightly as he could. After a couple of seconds, they let go of eachother and tried to look as unfazed as they could even though there was no use hiding their feelings anymore. Scholar was the one to end the silence.

"Well... Now that we're dating, you know what we have to do, right?"

Tadashi was slightly fidgeting with the bouquet still in his hand.

"Um... We hold hands and we go back to the dorms to spend some quality time in your room?"

"Yes! And then we fuck"

The romantic atmosphere was thrown out of the window. This was obviously a joke to lighten up the mood but Tadashi did not appreciate that.

"Who taught you that?? And more importantly, stop learning Japanese just to tease me!!"

Nonetheless, they made their way back to the dorms under the curious gazes of the students while holding hands, like promised. The news already got around the school: Scholar and Tadashi are dating.

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Aaaayy! It's done! *Clap👏 clap👏 clap👏* This was really fun for me since, well... I love teasing Tadashi 😂 (but who doesn't?) This is the ultimate proof that I like this blushy boi. Hope you didn't cringe! Because I'm sure I will when I read it again in a few days... On a side note, sorry if the February 14th thing was too sudden or out of nowhere, but to be fair the SE team gave us a Halloween chapter in May sooo... whatever! It was Halloween 2 days ago and now it's Valentines day! Deal with it! Also, the biggest plot hole of this fic is that Karolina didn't do shit to stop Scholar and Tadashi from their Miracle Romance🌟🌙 (Sailor moon ref 👌) but I wanted this to be a simple fic without any drama.

Aaaand that's all I had to say! Thank you for reading!!! 💖💗

[ameftowriter]

5738 A.D. 4,1 (UPDATED) (Dr. Stone fanfic)

From here: https://ameftowriter.tumblr.com/post/188742703889/5738-ad-41-dr-stone-fanfic

This is the updated version of the fic above. After watching Episode 22 I had to change this a bit and edited it better to make sure it flowed smoothly. Also I may plan on putting more chapters but I’ll have to see to that later.

Anyway, I love Episode 22 so much and it touched my heart so! I have two more fics incoming that I posted along with this, so that will be incoming soon.

Ao3 | ffnet

Part 1 (This!) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 ???

Gen still has a hard time taking everything in. Was it really the year 5739? The mentalist just couldn’t wrap his head around it. On top of it all, those statues. So many statues.

They were people, turned to stone.

He realized that something terrible has happened and it affected every human being on earth.

He was affected too, considering the position he woke up from. The last thing he remembered was that he had just finished his act. Hearing the cheers and applause from a delighted audience, that's when everything went dark.

And the next thing he knew was a bright light, and faced an open ocean.

He wondered if this was a prank, he’s seen a lot of celebrity prank shows, to be a victim of that disgusted him. He was a mentalist, being subjected to a prank like this defies his very image. He grumbled at the thought of it as he stood up from his position.

That is until he heard a deep commanding voice from the background.

“Welcome to the year 5739 AD”

He felt cold sweat drip off his currently naked body. He turned to recognize the man who broke him out of the dark stone prison. It was Shishio Tsukasa… the strongest primate high schooler.

He heard him say something about making a choice. That him and those statues behind him were selectively chosen for his new world…

Gen looked up and just could not believe what he saw...

He was then given some clothes to wear, made by their resident tailor named Yuzuriha. He didn’t know who she was, but was grateful for her.

It was… clothes he supposes. It was a tunic of sorts that reached up to his knees. Made of animal skin. He wanted to ask for a T-Shirt and Jeans. Then again… if it really was year 5739, and everyone was petrified…

He nearly stumbled on a statue lying around. He gained back his footing and turned to see what tripped him. His eyes widened to see that it was his manager.

Memories of the man flooded his head. When he first started, he would try to use him, booking his shows back to back, expecting him to nearly give up his own education, family life, and his private life for his acts.  He tried to milk so much money from him, Gen was sure it was borderline illegal. But eventually, he found a weakness to the man and he became an easy target for Gen’s manipulation. Sometimes he used him as a guinea pig for any new acts he had thought of. He nearly had him prance around the streets naked once as a form of revenge.

But if it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t have become this popular and famous…

He wouldn’t have had the money to…

Tsukasa shattered the manager’s head beneath his feet.

Gen nearly jumped back at the sudden destruction in front of him.

“I apologize for startling you.” Tsukasa spoke up, “I remember this man once, he was your manager yes?”

Gen could only nod.

“He tried to charm me to having you and I do more shows together, he treated us as if were freaks in a carnival. I simply cannot stand adults like that…”

It didn’t take a mentalist to know that every word he spoke dripped of hatred and loathing. Gen looked at the remains of the destroyed statue, and felt his stomach churn.

He hated his manager yes, but…

For someone to just mercilessly destroy that…

They had arrived at the Empire of Might as Tsukasa had called it. Gen could only look at it with awe as he saw various forms of treehouses and caves formed from the mountain. But most of all, he saw that almost every man and even women around him were muscular and looked like they would be able to carry him like he was a feather.

Then Gen met the said tailor, Yuzuriha, and the big oaf that he was pretty sure was her boyfriend, Taiju.

They were friendly and chipper. Gen was surprised to see this. After all it's been about 4000 years and everything around them is gone. For them to act this way.

Well… he wouldn't verbalize it without any sort of evidence. But to him it seemed to be just an act.

He wondered why.

Gen thanked her for the clothes. But wonders if he could ask her for something more… sophisticated. Something that suits his style.

Tsukasa agreed, he saw Gen as a valuable member of the Empire, but he also needed him for a mission.

Yuzuriha agreed to do it without any questions asked.

Gen missed paper and pencil or any kind of writing instruments. But it seemed that the girl understood his directions nonetheless.

Now, he’s curious as to why they're acting this way.

While they waited for his new outfit, Tsukasa then began explaining to him his goals. Goals of creating a new and better world without the adults who tainted it. Gen listened to him intently, and felt himself get pulled into Tsukasa’s ideals. He knew what he meant and fully understood his words and reasonings. After all, he made a living using and exploiting the naivete and idiocy of the adults that ruled the earth. He knew and understood the pain and suffering Tsukasa has mentioned. He had experienced it himself as young as he was. And yet the scene of his manager being crushed underneath Tsukasa’s feet kept playing over and over his head….

Sometimes Gen wondered if that's what kept him from being swayed by Tsukasa's words…

But at this moment he was afraid. Very afraid for his life. He was reborn into this "Stone World" and was spared from a fate worse than death. To even show any resistance to Tsukasa or any of his people would equal his untimely demise.

So he as it was many years ago, put on his mask and showed his agreement to the man's ideals and goals. Even showed support and gave suggestions on who to pick and revive. The mentalist was a master of weaving words into the most believable of sentences, right down to the inflection of his syllables.

Tsukasa was pleased. And that was good enough for him.

That night, Gen just could not sleep. He tossed and turned endlessly as he made the effort to close his eyes and forced his body to sleep. He thought of everything he could remember on how to go to sleep, but that failed him too.

It was strange to him. He remembered during his performance that he was so exhausted that he could collapse the moment he let his body relax. Yet when Tsukasa broke him out of the stone prison that he felt so energized that he could run a marathon and not feel winded. And he certainly still feels that way. He wonders if being asleep for so long had made him catch up to his lost sleep. All nineteen years worth of it.

Well, he did the math and technically he is now 3739 years old…

If there was any kind of sleepiness in him at that moment, Gen had completely lost it.

3720 years…  is a really, really long time…

Yuzuriha finished his new outfit the next day, he was very grateful for her. Especially after hearing the fact that she spent all night with it. Gen felt a bit bad for her, until he heard her voice crack just a little…

Gen did not have supersonic hearing, but as a mentalist, he taught himself to pay attention to people’s subtle noises. He wondered if Yuzuriha was lying to him.

He tried the new outfit on, and it fits him just right. He was definitely impressed with her.

Later, Tsukasa began explaining to him about a certain “miracle fluid” that had broken him out of the petrified state. And that it was located in a special cave. Which was also dubbed, Cave of Miracles.

A miracle fluid that undid the petrification? He couldn't believe that it was even possible. That peaked his interest, not that he would show it.

As Tsukasa brought him to a cave and along a few other muscular men with him. It seemed that he wanted to show respect to nature's bounty and sorts. It was something that lost his interest, and it fell into deaf ears. Thanks to that distraction though, Gen had tripped over a giant root, but he quickly gained footing and held himself against a tree near the cave. He brushed his fingers against a tree without realizing it.

He felt something odd.

He knew tree bark was rough and could hurt depending on the tree, but even so, this sensation felt weird to him. To him it was like… like… Something was engraved into the tree.

He moved his hand away and saw a carving into the tree he held on.

A.D. 5738 4, 1

“Fifty-seven, thirty-eight… Four, One…” Gen read the engraving. “5738, 4, 1…”

It was like everything he had known right now had changed.

His thoughts came back to when Tsukasa told him the current year. He wondered so many things that day, that even today he was still trying to take it all in. He wondered how… how would Tsukasa be able to determine the current year. From what he saw of the strongest primate high schooler, he was more than just a muscleheaded idiot. He had strength, he had skill, he had smarts.

But even so that did not give him a proper answer as to how and why he knew the current date.

Does Tsukasa even know this engraving?!

Was it even really the year 5739?

But this engraving shows it. 5738… It’s been a year since the engraving was written in the tree. April 1st… How did the writer knew of the exact date even…

“5738… April 1st…” Gen repeated himself, “H-How…. How did… How could someone…?”

“No…” Gen gathered his thoughts, “Someone… someone must have carved this after breaking out… They had to. But… How would… would they know the exact date…”

“Is it even possible…?!”

He read again the crude kanji and the numbers written on the tree. It was clearly there. It wasn't some sort of hallucination… It was actually written there…

The mentalist's heart swelled with hope.

“This… this is…” Gen shuddered in excitement at the realization of someone like that ever existed, and broke out first, and to do this, “This is too antastic-fay! Whoever did this… Must be…”

Then his thoughts were interrupted by Tsukasa calling him to the cave.

Gen quickly dashed inside. To see Tsukasa standing in front of a pile of… bat guano. Gen’s nose scrunched up at the awful smell and saw yellow liquid dripping down from the cave’s ceiling, to a clay bowl.

He quickly deduced it as a so called “miracle fluid” that Tsukasa had mentioned. But when he read Tsukasa’s expression and listened to his voice, he felt there was more… than just that fluid…

That night, he couldn’t stop thinking about that engraving.

5738 A.D. April 1.

He wondered who could even do that. In that darkness. For almost 4000 years, calculated the year, month and date. The exact date?! He wondered why would the person even bother to calculate. When normally you'd think of surviving first.

He thought of possibilities. He knew you can tell how old a tree is by cutting it and counting the number of rings… But that would have been a gigantic tree. He considered the number of natural disasters that could have destroyed it way before the next millenia… So he scratched out that idea. He thought maybe some sort of machine that could tell the time had survived, but he hasn’t seen a sign of any kind of civilization, let alone a machine that could tell the time. His thoughts wandered of any kind of sci-fi theory he’s seen. But just like before, he saw nothing…

Nothing from the year 2019.

Gen curled up onto his sheets. It has hit him again, the realization that there was nothing left from the year he knew. No buildings, no cars… no cola even…

He felt the sudden urge for a bottle.

As he realized he couldn’t sleep once again, he stepped outside of his living quarters and saw the stars in the sky. It was numerous, more than he could ever count.

Count…

That's when he thought of something… a completely ar-fetched-fay possibility...

Yes, there was no machine or anything that could tell the time, but the fact remained that time still moved forward, no matter what…

It was something insane. Something that no human being should be able to do, but it was possible…

He had heard rumours of a kid who counted the exact seconds within a month, and he had counted it exactly.

“To count the passing seconds…” Gen thought to himself, “To do that during all that time in the darkness…”

Many feelings he suddenly felt for this mystery counter. Excitement, pity, delight, fear... In order to do that, he would have had to remain conscious all that time… Gen eventually felt nothing and his mind went completely blank after a while. When Tsukasa revived him, he thought everything before was just a dream… a long 3720 year dream…

Gen gritted his teeth, he was nervous, he was scared, he was so lost in this new world, but to even think that there was a person like that, a human being that could do such a thing...

He had to find them… he had to find the person who could have done this feat… He had to know. He had to know this person. He had to pick him apart and understand his own way of thinking. He had to analyze everything about him. He had to know how and why would he do such a ridiculous yet logical thing.

He hadn't felt this eager in knowing a person he hasn't even met.

The rest of that night spent thinking about this person. He smiled at the thought of someone else being this unique.

It was like… to him it was like getting excited over a book he had heard only good reviews about.

Yes, he was skeptical, but the thought of someone like this.

It got him excited.

The next day, the third day, Tsukasa called for him after his meal.

He was called to be given a mission…

“Those dusty old fossils who used to be in power…” Tsukasa began as he led Gen to a path in the forest, it was a bit further from the Empire, “Are even less necessary in this natural world of stone…”

Gen didn’t hear a hint of hesitation from those words. In fact to him Tsukasa spoke of his ideals in such great confidence and conviction, that the mentalist felt a bit swayed by those. Especially when he said…

“But I see a massive amount of potential in you… Gen.”

Gen felt himself snap out of that trance. He knew Tsukasa had a lot of natural charisma, but even he as a master of minds, felt like he was grabbed instantly and quickly, as if he got there by himself. He cursed himself mentally, as he remembered how Tsukasa crushed the statue of his manager, again. And all of the other pieces of statues he has seen scattered everywhere, crushed with his bare hands or by his men.

“There’s something I need you for…” Gen’s attention was grabbed again as Tsukasa cleared some branches to reveal a treehouse, made by… concrete? He wondered. “And your skills as a mentalist will be invaluable…”

Gen saw on the side a few empty jars, crude makeshift spears… he was surprised that even the ladder that leads up to the treehouse was still sturdy. To him it looked like it was all abandoned.

But that wasn't where they went, rather, Tsukasa led him to a hut near the tree house. It had a worn out sign that said, “Laboratory”.

Tsukasa led him inside and the mentalist saw broken clay pots everywhere. He watched his step, as he moved in closer to see more and more broken pieces scattered everywhere. To him it was an obvious sign that whoever lived here scrambled to take everything and left. To the untrained eye that is.

Gen saw this was too intentional. It was too much of a mess for him. He thought maybe a scuffle, but that would have caused those shelves to fall apart. To him, it is as if the previous occupants just intentionally took those jars and smashed them.

“Follow them for me.” Tsukasa gave him his mission, as it also confirms Gen's deductions. “And get inside of their minds… Perhaps I'm being overly cautious, but I want you to track down this man Senku and tell me if he’s dead or hiding out somewhere…”

Senku…

That is the name of the person he was tasked to look for.

‘Senku…’ Gen thought to himself. He tried to think of anyone he knew by that name, none came to mind.

So he asked, “Who is Senku?”

“He, was the first of us to revive…” Tsukasa replied.

‘First? Don’t tell me…’

“He used his knowledge of science to create a formula to undo the petrification.” he continued as Gen took in this invaluable information, “That’s how he revived me…”

Gen couldn’t hide his surprise anymore.

‘This Senku person… revived Tsukasa? He created a formula to undo the petrification?’ The pieces started to fall into place...

“This man…” Tsukasa continued as Gen felt the man’s voice grew bitter, “His only desire is to revive everyone, no matter who they were…”

‘What? He… what? He wants to revive… everyone…?!'

“He’ll bring back the same people who ruined our world.... And they’ll make weapons…” Gen felt every word laced with pure hatred, as he still tried to take in everything.

“He was the most intelligent man alive, and that’s why I killed him myself…”

He saw Tsukasa’s eyes narrowed as he finished his sentence.

'He killed him…' Gen held back even his own expressions, 'He killed this Senku…'

When he first met Tsukasa in this new world, he was kind, considerate, gentle to everyone in the Empire and even to the animals. He would ensure that every part of every animal killed was put to use, even the organs. For Gen to hear him say that. For Tsukasa to kill another human being… he got even more scared of him.

Gen started to doubt himself. He wondered if there really was someone who could take down the Strongest Primate High Schooler. To kill the "smartest" man alive, as he called this Senku.

But even so, the fact that Tsukasa had to send him, a mentalist… to make sure that Senku is alive.

There was no doubt. Senku is alive.

He finally understood what he had to do.

Gen enjoyed it. He enjoyed experimenting and toying with the human mind and the limitless possibilities of the human psyche. He mostly used it for his own benefit and gain, but that's what the world, the previous world, taught him. To him adults were easy picking, even more so than teenagers and children. He knew as one grows older, the ideals and beliefs, and biases a person has learned will stick longer and thus harder to change or remove. Gen knew of this and exploited it to his heart's content. So it was child's play for him to figure out what had occured in this laboratory.

He asked Tsukasa if he could stay a bit more to inspect the area. The man let him, and asked if he knew the way back.

Gen knew the way back.

When he realized that he was finally alone, he quickly observed the area. He looked at the pieces of the broken jars, the stains on the floor and at the walls, he saw the various broken tools nearby. He then rushed into the tree house and saw the same mess as the lab. Gen saw this as a laughable way to make it look like they got scared and escaped.

Smartest man alive? More like the world's worst crook if he had ever seen one.

He remembered Tsukasa’s expressions, the hatred in his words and the shakiness of it. That was also obvious. Tsukasa was scared. Very scared. He only knew of Tsukasa as a fearless man who would stare down other fighters bigger and stronger than he was, and took them down easily. For someone to induce such paranoia and fear in him...

He has to know. He has to know who this Senku person is.

He just has to!

After gathering what he can from the area, he went back to the Empire. He gave Tsukasa what he could deduce from it, and said that he and his companions that he too figured this out from the tracks, that they probably dashed at around southeast to where the Empire was.

Tsukasa was impressed by him. He mentioned that the two companions were Taiju and Yuzuriha.

Gen faked a shock, well to everyone it looked like a real shock. He knew some of the bigger and heavier footsteps belonged to a heavyweight like Taiju, and smaller, lighter footsteps belonged to a woman, Yuzuriha fits that description.

Tsukasa explained to him that they returned after he had subsequently killed Senku and buried him in that direction. Gen was right it was southeast to where they were, Hakone (or it would have used to be considering the lack of any buildings).

He also mentioned that they were Senku's best friends.

That's what stood out the most.

Gen wondered to himself as to why they were kept under surveillance. Now it made sense, Tsukasa was worried that they might turn on him eventually. Even with the power difference, there was an instilled fear that Senku would come back for them and have a scientific weapon that could be used to defeat him.

That's what the mentalist deduced at least.

So Taiju and Yuzuriha were… no are Senku's friends. He filed that important tidbit for later.

Tsukasa had given him information that was more valuable than even he thought.

He was also told of a blond haired, blue eyed girl that seemed to have no knowledge of science and had a very primitive way of thinking. He was (truly this time) shocked to hear that there is a possibility of a village of primitives in that area, and that Senku might have made contact with them if that was the case. So now he had a destination in mind.

Hakone. Around a two day walk from where they were now. Gen didn't particularly like the idea of walking so far and so long, but his desire to meet this Senku was what pushed him further.

Before he left, he asked Yuzuriha for some extra materials and a cutting tool. Part of him wanted to tell them that he was going to see Senku, just to gauge their reactions. He knew if they didn't react to what he expected it, then it was truly confirmed that Senku is alive.

But he held his tongue on that. He didn't want to risk then getting caught on this mess.

Gen himself haven't really decided on if this Senku really is the person he was looking for. If he was the mystery counter. All he knew was that, he was a threat to Tsukasa's ideal world.

The smartest man alive vs the strongest man alive.

A typical brain vs brawn...

His journey was long and painful, especially since he didn’t wear any shoes. Along the way he picked up many nightshade flowers and stored them into various hidden sacks underneath his clothes. He even found many berries and even some small animals he could use to make fake blood bags for his own protection, just in case everything went downhill for him. He knew when to expect the worst. After all, he made a living from expecting the worst in people and exploiting it.

His journey took way longer than two days. He was exhausted, yes, but every step further was one step closer to meeting this Senku. He thought it was worth it.

From what he knew about the positions of his shadows, he had deduced it was around noon. He walked further and further through the forest, and that's when he heard something, music. He heard music playing nearby, he walked closer to the source, and saw it, clear as day. A village, built on two small peninsulas connected by a bridge.

It was the primitive village that Tsukasa told him about. There were primitives living in this area.

And in front of it was…

Well to his surprise. It was a ramen stand.

Gen approached the stand closer then was quickly given a bowl of said ramen by a child wearing a melon mask over her head. He thought it was kind of cute.

He felt a pang of hunger as he took a whiff of the bowl on his hands. It was a crude version of ramen that he knew, but well, he supposed it was still ramen. So he took a bite.

Gen nearly gagged from the taste.

He remained very quiet despite the complete awfulness the dish had. He couldn’t even call this ramen. He heard this was foxtail millet ramen.

Once again he nearly gagged at the thought of foxtail. Foxtail, was what the noodles were made out of. He could feel the grainy texture and the bitter aftertaste of the ramen.

It was ositive-pay awful!

But he heard nothing but praises for this dish. Gen peered to see other people wearing similar clothes like the one the melon girl wore. It looked like they were almost inhaling the ramen. It was a complete consensus that it was the best thing they've ever had.

That's one other thing that hits Gen.

He sighs and misses something way more than ramen right now.

One of them quickly asked for seconds and Gen sighed and realized with the stereotypical glutton man. He supposed that in any kind of era there's always a glutton.

Then his attention quickly changed when he saw the man at the stand itself, putting the ramen together.

His hair stood out the most, literally. Even at the year 2019, he would have easily stood out. He wondered if it's dyed or if he used any hair products. Almost every bit of his hair stood upwards defying gravity. To Gen he looked like a walking giant leek or bok choy. Then when he turned sideways, that's when Gen finally saw his face. He looked sweaty and tired, but his face is full of eagerness and pride, that admittingly seemed contagious. The most noticeable features were the two jagged scars that lined and bent up from his forehead down to this eye line and just below the eyelid. The Mentalist instinctively touched his own scar.

He remembered the explanation Tsukasa gave him. That these scars are just a side effect of the depetrification process.

Gen remembered the day when he saw his reflection at the river and saw the scar running underneath his left eyelid, where it turned to shape his mouth then went straight down his chain and his neck. To him this was a reminder that he was petrified and awakened. Which meant, this man was…

“Are you the man who made this incredible food?” He heard a young girl approach the man with such eagerness and obvious intent of flirting, “the one called, Senku?”

Senku…

This green haired, prideful, obviously exhausted guy...

Is Senku?

Gen tried hard to cover his laughter. This was the man that Tsukasa, the strongest primate high school, was scared about? He looked physically weak. Everything about him was so lanky and skinny. It completed the giant walking vegetable set. Big green leaves and a nimble easily breakable stem.

He was….

'This was the man who wrote that date on the tree isn't it?'

He saw a familiar equation written on Senku’s outfit.

E=mc2

'Yeah… definitely the science nerd around here.' Gen chuckled internally, 'Who the hell writes that on their own clothes?!'

When the girl asked Senku what kind of girls he liked Senku simply answered this:

"A kind that would pump a ton of oxygen into my furnace"

Gen groaned internally at that answer

'And he's uninterested at romance. Like he's some sort of a Shonen protagonist…'

Gen managed to breathe and calmed himself in order to prevent getting noticed by the villagers. Senku had made the ramen for them. It was errible-tay. He could barely call this food.

'So this is what Tsukasa was talking about.' Gen just placed everything together in his head, 'This Senku is a scientist, through and through. He made the depetrification formula, he made this ramen, he has that silly equation on his clothes, he even has a furnace! I see why Tsukasa-chan fears him… but…'

Gen had to make sure. He wasn't going to just mingle with him and the primitives.

The blond villager girl whom Gen deduced as quite strong, and possibly the girl that Tsukasa ran into before, even expressed her displeasure at that answer. He wondered if she had some feelings for this Senku person.

The Mentalist admits that Senku is quite handsome. It was a shame to him that he isn't interested in romance. He would have loved to have gotten closer to him. But he supposed that he still has a job to do.

Well to everyone in the Empire of Might it was his job.

To Gen….

It was some assurance.

If this Senku is what he thought he was, that this Senku is the man that striked fear into Tsukasa's heart.

This handsome, nerdy, passionate man…

Might be the counter he was looking for.

Better strike while the iron's hot….

"Ah… this ramen is making me wickedly thirsty…" Gen admitted to himself, out loud for everyone else to hear. "A cola, would be great…"

And with that, Gen had Senku's undivided attention.

The Mentalist then went to work, fully analyzing this Senku to his heart's content.

Little that he knew what would happen later that within the past 3700+ years of his life, would change for the better.

'This is worth it…'

[rkxsungwoon-blog]

✦ — MGA4 EPISODE 4: 2018 RELEASES #4048: HA SUNGWOON ; outfit: [ x ]  TEAM F (FRESH N’ FRUITY): @rkmg, @jinsoulrk, @rkyxrim performance: shine - pentagon / line distribution + choreography notes

team h comes in second place. sungwoon stares in open-mouthed shock as the results are announced as if he can’t believe it himself. jei seems disappointed by their placement, but sungwoon thinks even making it to second place is pretty damn impressive with how unbalanced their team was. it was the boys’ lack of dancing skill that ended up bringing the group down, not her leadership or her choreography. when it comes down it, sungwoon’s grateful for all her hard work and a little upset to see team dynamiq split up for the next round. 

though not completely—minhyuk is still on his new team, and sungwoon’s excited to get to work with him again. the rest of their teammates are on the younger side this time, so it’s nice to have someone else here to keep things focused and on track. once again, they’re practicing in the kt building; he’s grown used to the practice rooms here by now and takes comfort in the familiar (though part of still wishes he could get the chance to visit the nova building before all this is over). 

but he gets thrown for a loop early in the morning, when minhyuk stops by to tell them he’s dropped out of the mgas. he’s terribly apologetic about the whole thing and brings them ‘i’m sorry’ cupcakes, but sungwoon still feels a little lost and unable to grasp what’s going on. he doesn’t feel like he can blame minhyuk for his decision, but he still finds it a bit unfair. they’re going to be the only team with four members now—and eliminations happened just yesterday. won’t the people who left feel like this is unfair?

sungwoon genuinely doesn’t know how best to react, but as the oldest one here now, he forces a smile and accepts minhyuk’s apology. “it’s okay, you gotta do what’s best for you,” he says. “we’ll be fine.” he tries to sound as reassuring as possible; the last thing he wants is for the rest of the group to feel anxious over something like this. it’ll be a challenge to fill the stage just with the four of them, but it’s too early to adopt a defeatist attitude. he’s sure they can work something out in the coming week. 

privately, sungwoon just hopes this won’t hurt them in the round. 

in the beginning, there are bananas. 

one banana, to be exact, nestled in a transparent starbucks cup. sungwoon carries it into the practice room like the olympic torch because his dick of a friend thought it would be funny to mess up his order and sungwoon rolled with it. after minhyuk’s surprise exit, sungwoon needed a moment to clear his head and grab a cup of coffee from the nearby starbucks. he’d forgotten his wallet and tried to convince his friend to give him a drink for free—and the “cup of water: no water, no ice, banana, no” is what he gave sungwoon, no charge. sungwoon doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with it and just brings it back with him. 

thankfully, it’s hilarious, especially since jinsoul and yerim later suggest banana allergy monkey as a potential performance. sungwoon’s never even heard of the song, and the look he exchanges with mingyu is equal parts startled and worried as the girls show them the music video… the song and the choreography are almost saccharine in its cuteness, and sungwoon makes an attempt to follow along with the choreo halfheartedly before giving up and shaking his head. “i know i opened the can of bananas here, but, uh…” 

but it’s a hidden camera prank—something to ease the nerves and break the ice between all of them. sungwoon slumps against the wall when the girls reveal they were joking and groans, clutching his hand to his chest. “you had me going there.” he genuinely thought he’d have to dance on stage a literal monkey (or banana) suit for a while. the atmosphere in the practice room after that is light-hearted and comfortable. sungwoon’s glad. he worried minhyuk’s departure would result in a heavy silence, but team f seems to be getting along just fine thanks to banana allergy monkey. 

it’s surprising how quickly sungwoon warms up to mingyu, jinsoul, and yerim. prior to being grouped up together, he hadn’t really been paying attention to any of them. the mgas overall are so overwhelming, it takes all he has to focus solely on himself, much less others. luckily, they’re all agreeable and fun to work with, as an a bonus, their team is well balanced for once: sungwoon and jinsoul are both vocals, yerim is a dancer, and mingyu can rap. 

song selection isn’t particularly difficult either. jinsoul initially suggests love4eva, but it doesn’t have enough of a rap to showcase mingyu’s talents. touch, giddy up, and jealousy also come up during their discussion, but sungwoon has to reluctantly bring attention to his lack of dancing ability. the choreographies for those songs are pretty difficult. finally, jinsoul suggests shine by pentagon, and they all agree it’s a good choice. there’s enough vocal and rap parts to satisfy their group’s needs, and a fun choreography for yerim as well. as a bonus, sungwoon loves the song, so he’s more than happy with their decision. 

they decide on a group name pretty quickly too. it’s a play on the song title ‘365 fresh,’ their fruity beginnings, and their designation as team f: fresh n’ fruity. it captures the spirit of their team well, he thinks. the topic of leader comes up soon after, and sungwoon’s a little surprised to find himself put in the position. in some ways, it makes sense: he’s the oldest and he has experience, but he wonders if he’s really up to the task. this isn’t keeping his band together. people are counting on him to make sure they deliver the best performance possible by the end of the week. but it’s a responsibility he’s willing to accept. “thanks, guys. i really mean it. i’ll do my best for you all,” he says, giving them a confident grin. 

inside, he’s not so sure, but he means what he said. he’ll do his best for this team. 

sungwoon spends some time watching his teammates’ cuts from the previous episodes so he can get a better sense of their skills. in the process, he gets exposed to some of mnet’s more questionable editing choices, especially with yerim. sungwoon has a hard time reconciling the girl he met with the bratty kid on screen. dealing with woojin on a daily basis has given him more perspective, however. sometimes it’s the circumstances and sometimes it’s the people around you, but most problem kids aren’t really a problem at all if you’re willing to treat them with respect.

he suspects jinsoul probably deserves a lot of the credit for making yerim more comfortable with this team than she was with the last one. the two are really close, that much becomes obvious on day one, and it translates into a better working atmosphere for them all. he’s grateful for that. since they’re all comfortable with each other, it’s easier to toss ideas around and work together. sungwoon would like to believe he’s an approachable leader as well, but something makes him doubt that.

jinsoul is initially unable to tell him she wants the high note before the final chorus in the song. yerim advocates on her behalf, but sungwoon doesn’t get a chance to talk to jinsoul about it until they’re practicing together. it’s not really a fight or even an argument; he just wants to work things out and make sure jinsoul won’t regret anything on stage. she’s a good, kind person, but he figures she must be a little nervous because of her team placement from last week and doesn’t want her to hold back for anyone’s sake, much less his own.

in the end, they decide to leave things the way they are. while sungwoon thinks jinsoul really deserves it, he doesn’t want to push a decision onto her either way. if she’s not confident enough this time, that’s fine—he just hopes that in the future, jinsoul will go for what she wants. she’s talented enough to pull it off, and if nothing else, sungwoon believes in her. he privately vows to himself that he’ll make sure jinsoul gets her chance in the spotlight despite all this.

one of the things he likes the most about team f is their creativity. shine is a great stage to begin with, but they’re always thinking of ways to go beyond and transform the performance into something wholly theirs. together, the team eventually comes up with a shoujo manga-esque concept, since the song is about a love confession. it’s a school setting, with yerim kicking off a string of love confessions, and by the end of the song, everyone is paired off with their respective partners.

out of consideration for his short stature and pride, sungwoon gets paired with yerim. while the performance starts off with yerim confessing to mingyu, she and sungwoon ‘end up’ together at the end. sungwoon is supposed to have a crush on her throughout the performance, and they have a lot of partner choreo together as well. staying serious is a problem though; they both recognize the ridiculousness of the scenario and break out into laughter whenever they have to pretend to act like love-struck fools. it takes a while, but they finally learn to control their expressions during their parts.

sungwoon brings lunchboxes and snacks for his team throughout the week. he’s not known as the naggy mom friend in all his circles for no reason, but he genuinely enjoys cooking for other people too. and he wants to be sure everyone’s eating and staying hydrated in such a busy time. amusingly enough, this leads to him being named the ‘team dad’ for a second week in a row, though he could probably do without the nicknames that come out of it too. still, he thinks he doesn’t mind being the team dad here. sungwoon could do a lot worse than be tied to these three.

he isn’t looking forward to their team being dissolved. can’t they work together for the rest of the show? wishful thinking, but you gotta have dreams.

they all practice hard. he feels like a misconception people might have is that their team is all about laughter and goofing off. while yes, they have fun, they take things seriously as well. yerim and jinsoul are a hundred perfect dedicated to the performance; yerim helps everyone out with their dancing as the best dancer out of all of them, and jinsoul takes meticulous notes on their practices, pointing out mistakes and areas of improvement as kindly as possible. and mingyu—his work ethic is unbelievable. he stays late and shows up early; sungwoon feels like he’s constantly practicing, giving he upcoming performance his all.

and then he finds out mingyu stays in the practice room all night. sungwoon doesn’t know what to do—he feels like this is something he should’ve caught onto earlier and wants to make sure mingyu isn’t pushing himself beyond his limits, but it obviously goes deeper than that. there’s something else going on. after some hesitation, mingyu finally opens up about his worries regarding the competition. having been in one of the bottom ranking teams last week, he’s scared it might happen again and wants to work twice as hard to make sure it doesn’t.

sungwoon gets it; of course you wouldn’t want to risk being in the same position twice. he promises mingyu team f won’t suffer the same fate. “believe in us,” sungwoon says, clapping him on the back. “we’re not going anywhere, okay?” it’s a confident statement, but he sees how hard everyone’s working, how fervently they believe in this team’s potential. sungwoon can’t help but get swept up in it too. it’s his job to keep everyone’s spirits up, keep them focused and believing they can take that number one spot. trust in something long enough and you can make it happen.

they’ve all overcome a lot. it would be a shame to go out like this.

sungwoon returns to the practice room after their ‘team bonding’ dinner at yerim and jinsoul’s house. it’s a little hypocritical of him to do so when he told his group mates to get some rest for tomorrow, but he’s not going to be able to sleep anyway, so why not do something useful with his time and practice the choreography? he has jinsoul’s notes and yerim’s pointers to work with. sungwoon feels like he’s been helped by this team members a lot this week and doesn’t want to let them down. 

it’s late and the only sounds he can hear are his shoes scuffing against the floor and his own laboured breathing. he’s familiar with some of the point choreography already, but sungwoon really wants to nail it as best as possible. this dance is more about charisma and energy than it is about skill, but that doesn’t mean you can’t pay attention to skill at all. enthusiasm can only take you so far. 

he goes over the non-partner dances until they’re drilled into his skull, sings until his lips are dry and cracked, his throat protesting. sungwoon knows he’s teetering on the edge to pushing himself to a breaking point—the very thing he was worried about for his teammates—but the sharp voice in his head tells him to break if he must. nothing less will be accepted. after all, he doesn’t want to have any regrets either. nothing less than his absolute best will be accepted. 

eventually, he takes a break. sungwoon’s shirt clings to his skin as he shuffles forward to get a drink of water before laying down spread-eagle on the floor. it’s pleasantly cool down here; he rolls over and presses his warm cheek to the floor and sighs. truthfully, he’s fucking exhausted, but he can’t stop here. a little more practice, then he’ll head home to hopefully get a couple of hours of sleep before the soundcheck. with that in mind, sungwoon wills himself to get up, but he can’t muster up the energy to do anything besides roll onto his back and stare up at the ceiling. 

he catches a glimpse of the camera recording his pathetic solo practice out of the corner of his eye. “are you there, mnet? it’s me, sungwoon,” he quips, laughing tiredly when he gets no response. talking to a camera… cool. mnet’s always there anyway. pausing, sungwoon licks his lips and thinks of what to say. ideally, there’s a lot he wants to get off his chest but more than half of it is stuff he knows he shouldn’t vocalize. after some deliberation, he settles on a plea. “i know you’re not santa claus and we don’t always get what we want here, but… i don’t want to say goodbye to jinsoul, yerim, or mingyu this week.” 

himself? it’s a toss up. sungwoon feels burdened every time someone goes home. this wasn’t his dream when he came on here. it seems deceitful for him to still be on the show. he doesn’t know where he stands now, and that’s almost as bad. some of last week’s eliminations wear on him; sungwoon wasn’t close with any of those who left, but it wasn’t easy to watch. he doesn’t want to see other peoples’ dreams get crushed… but in his heart of hearts, he wants to selfishly stay on the show too. but it’s like he said—they don’t always get what they want here. 

“please watch over team f kindly,” he finishes lamely, forcing himself onto his feet. feeling foolish for speaking to an empty room, he chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “this probably isn’t going to air, right?” just as well people don’t get to see him make a fool of himself. sungwoon gives the camera two thumbs up before starting up the music again to practice. mnet’s not going to save his team because he asked nicely; he needs to put in the work to make it happen. 

and you bet he fucking will. 

soundcheck passes by in a blur and soon they’re backstage watching the other groups perform. once again, sungwoon’s team is slated to take the stage near the end of the show. he has mixed feelings about it: on one hand, the extra time helps him prepare mentally for going up on stage. on the other, the anticipation is killing him. sungwoon tries to distract himself by watching out for his former teammates and cheering them on whenever they take the stage. the performances are all just as good—if not better—than last week. he really sees some people he didn’t notice before shine up there. 

finally, it’s their turn. before team f goes up on stage, sungwoon stops them with an uncharacteristically serious look. “guys, i—” he breaks off and shakes his head. whatever he wants to say can wait; there’s no point in bringing the mood down before they even perform. instead, he affixes a bright smile to his face and pumps his fist in the air. “we got this! fighting!” sungwoon’s designated sappy speech can wait till they’re done. 

on stage, it falls to him to kick off the greeting. as rehearsed, sungwoon begins with, “nice and juicy—“ while the others chime in with “—fresh and fruity!” he bites back a laugh as he delivers the rest of the introduction. “hello, we are team fresh n’ fruity! i’m our bananappa, ha sungwoon. please keep me fresh in your hearts!” jinsoul’s assigned fruit is peach, mingyu’s an apple, and yerim gets the cherry. sungwoon should’ve petitioned for watermelon, but the banana is a nod to their start. 

the lights dim. they quickly get into position as the first notes of the instrumental intro fill the studio. keeping in theme with their shoujo manga concept, the stage is set up to be reminiscent of a classroom. they’re all dressed in school uniforms too, borrowed from hanlim students they know. seated at makeshift desks on stage, sungwoon pretends to be absorbed in ‘studying’ for a few seconds before throwing his pencil down and stretching his arms over his head. he pretends to watch in shock, mouth open in a giant ‘O,’ as yerim starts off the song by pulling mingyu away and confessing to him. 

after her rap, yerim and jinsoul run off giggling together and the focus shifts to sungwoon’s part. the choreography here is the same as the original song and meant to be energetic. he’s able to keep up, having spent as much time as he can practicing. everything he learned last week under jei’s guidance comes in handy as well, and he makes sure to grin widely for the camera, making it clear he’s having the time of his life up here. 

달라질게 없는 맘을 가진 너는  마치 뿌리 깊은 나무 같아서

they decided to stick to the regular choreography for the chorus as well. the dance is iconic enough that the audience has to be able to enjoy it and follow along. sungwoon himself knew of it thanks to vines before he ever saw a video of the song. his movements aren’t as polished as the rest of his team’s—he knows he’s the weakest dancer out of all of them—but he hopes his enthusiasm and dedication to the dance makes up for it. this stage is meant to be fun, and that’s really what he wants people to take away from his performance. sungwoon’s having fun. 

그래 나는 머저리 머저리

이 세상 너 하나면 돼

it’s mingyu’s turn to confess to jinsoul during his rap next. once he’s done, sungwoon walks over to one side of the stage while singing with mingyu while jinsoul and yerim walk to the other. they’re supposed to be talking to each other about their crushes, so sungwoon tries to throw furtive glances over to where the girls are, trying his best to channel a combination of sneaky and awkward. it really takes him back to his high school days… 

용기가 없어서 i’m sorry 더 맘껏 비웃어 그래 나는

they change it up for the second chorus: mingyu glances over at the girls while singing his lines while jinsoul looks over at the guys while singing hers. they start walking back to the centre of the stage for sungwoon and yerim’s partner choreo. while walking backwards, they bump into each other and look at each other shly; sungwoon blushes under the harsh stage lights and scratches the back of his neck as he sings his lines to yerim, recalling his own high school crushes and what it felt like to be in love with someone. the feeling isn’t as elusive as he thought it would be. 

baby i’m only yours oh oh oh

난 사랑 앞에선 늘 찌질이

mingyu raps again, and it’s back to sungwoon and yerim singing together. he follows after her while singing his lines, trying to confess, but she doesn’t realize what he’s trying to do. finally, both pairs stop in the middle of the stage, sungwoon and jinsoul standing back to back, and deliver their confessions. it’s the part with the disputed high note, and though sungwoon ended up with it in the end, he and jinsoul still need to harmonize together. while he sings, he gets down on one knee and offers yerim a giant paper heart he pulled out of his jacket, aware that jinsoul’s doing the same behind him. 

한가지 말할 게 있어 난 네 앞에 서면 떨려

[JS/SW] 너를 사랑해

they delve into partner choreography after that as the love confessions are accepted, and there’s an extra bounce, a lightheartedness to his movements now as he follows the dance, looking at yerim like how he’d look at someone he was crazy about. sungwoon would normally feel nervous about dancing with someone else like this, but he has team dynamiq and jei’s partner choreography to thank for his ease up on stage right now. 

그래 나는 머저리 머저리

이 세상 너 하나면 돼

the last part before jinsoul finishes the song is one they sing together. there’s more cute partner choreography here, with mingyu hugging jinsoul during his “my baby!” line. 

(everybody says) 눈누난나 너와 나 눈을 감아 뭐 할까 (뽀뽀) 구구까까 butterfly

at the end, they stand in their respective couples, looking like a high school drama come to life. sungwoon makes a heart with his arms and shoots it at yerim first before turning to the audience with a wide grin. his chest is heaving, his limbs are shaky, but he looks at the crowd and at his teammates and feels like his heart is about to burst. they put their everything into this stage—it’s truly a product of their collective efforts—and he hopes people will appreciate that. 

as they come off the stage, he sinks to a crouch and covers his face with his hands. “i can’t believe i called myself ‘bananappa’ on national television,” sungwoon groans. hindsight’s always twenty-twenty, but he can say that’s about the only regret he has. sighing, he straightens up and gives his team a smile. “i had a whole sappy speech prepared for you guys, but i don’t want to get into it, so i’ll just say this: no matter what happens tonight, i’m proud of our performance and of you all.” swallowing past the lump in his throat, he looks out at their faces and really hopes they make it. “we killed it up there, but most importantly, we made that stage ourselves and i think that’s pretty awesome.” 

the mgas are still a competition at the end of the day, but sungwoon would like to think he made some friends this week—and that team fresh n’ fruity will live on in their hearts for a while.

[schaaadenfreude]

have you ever seen someone so beautiful that you cry

hey it’s been a hot minute since i wrote anything, how’s about some Kye+Nadia since i haven’t publicly attempted to butcher her character yet. it’s long-winded but OH WELL

When I’d asked Nadia what the plan was for today, I certainly hadn’t expected the answer I got.

“There are several locations within and about Vesuvia that I wish to visit with you, Kye. I feel as though I know very little about the city I rule, and that is an injustice. I need to understand Vesuvia in all its facets,” Nadia informed me gravely.

The intent and reasoning I understood, though I wasn’t sure why she was so determined to drag me along. Not that a field trip sounded bad – in fact, the prospect of seeing parts of the city that I, myself, had rarely or never seen was quite appealing. My excitement was, however, tinged with wariness at the direction this excursion might drive Nadia’s and my – well. Whatever we were doing.

I wasn’t used to feeling so inhibited. The few times I had shared an attraction with someone, I had not been afraid to pursue it; but they had all been, like me, common born. Or at the very least, nowhere near the Countess’ status. Despite Nadia’s very clear assertions that night on the bridge, I couldn’t help but worry that being too free with her would land me in a bad spot.

… That wasn’t quite it, though. Nadia had made it clear that she was interested, and once that was established, I was not all that afraid to follow through. But there was a knot of fluttery emotion in the pit of my stomach whenever I thought about Nadia, about getting to know her, about doing things (a variety of things) with her. It felt enough like anxiety that I was just going to call it that and try not to think too hard about anything else that feeling might mean. Eventually I would confront myself about it, but not today.

While I had been processing that, Nadia had kept her eyes on me, waiting for a response. So I shrugged. “Makes sense. But you could do that on your own. Any reason you need me along?” Might as well ask and see how she reacted.

“If you do not wish to accompany me, you may stay here, or go back to your shop,” Nadia reminded me patiently. “Just because I desire your company does not mean that you are bound to follow my whims. But, if you insist, I do have other reasons. The primary one is that I need to experience Vesuvia, not as the Countess, but as a commoner might. You are more versed in such things than I, and I value your insight.”

I blinked at that. There were a few key phrases in there – ‘I desire your company,’ ‘I value your insight –’ that my mind wanted to linger over, but I didn’t let it. Instead, I picked a different one to talk about. “You want to see Vesuvia the way commoners do?”

“Precisely. After all, they are the majority, are they not? They are the ones for whose welfare I and my house are responsible. I need to see the truth of how the city fares with my own eyes, and not rely only on the carefully edited reports I am given by my court.” An edge crept into Nadia’s voice for the last, and I smirked despite myself. To be a fly on the wall if or when she caught someone feeding her lies…

The mental image of Nadia, in all her splendid clothing and jewels, walking the marketplace as if she belonged there made my smirk widen. I gestured to her and asked, “So, since you plan to play commoner today, did you have anything else to wear? You’ll stick out like a sore thumb in clothing like that, even if you hide your face.” There were, of course, districts where such finery would not be remarkable. But not the parts of the city where the common folk were.

Nadia looked down at herself, then back to me, eyebrows climbing. “Are you accusing me of not having appropriate attire, Kye? Is my wardrobe not adequate?”

I couldn’t help but grin as I bowed mockingly. She knew what I meant, I knew she did. “By no means, milady! All I meant was that it might be easier to blend in with the common folk in different clothing.”

“We’ve no time to contact my tailor for a new outfit, not if we are to go today. So unless you have another idea, we shall simply have to make do.” She didn’t sound terribly bothered by it. Apparently, she wasn’t that determined to blend in.

Which meant that when I made my suggestion, it was mostly just to see what Nadia would say. “Well, you could borrow something of mine. They won’t fit perfectly, but I think we could manage something with a little work.” And glamor. I wasn’t as good at casting glamor as Asra, but I’d practiced enough to do a few simple tricks. Altering what already was with glamor was much easier than inventing something completely new.

Nadia looked me up and down with such a pained expression on her face that the grin I’d finally managed to suppress broke out again, even more wolfish than before. She noticed my face and schooled hers, but it was too late. I said, “What, is it my wardrobe that’s inadequate? You wound me, Nadia.” I splayed a hand on my chest as if to soothe a broken heart. Off to the side, where I could hardly see her in my peripheral vision, Portia giggled into her hand.

My deadpanned performance clearly did not move the Countess. She cocked a scathing eyebrow, though humor lurked in her crimson gaze and about the corners of her mouth. Even with that, what she said next she did in serious tones that made it difficult for me to hold her eyes. “Forgive my rudeness, Kye. You offered to assist me from a place of generosity, and I should know better than to repudiate your kindness.”

Before I had to untie my tongue and come up with a response to that, she sighed. “If I am to truly camouflage myself among the common people of Vesuvia, it would be best for me to don their attire, if you are truly willing to lend me your aid in that endeavor.”

… Well damn. I hadn’t thought she’d actually take me up on the offer. I blinked stupidly at her for a moment, then nodded. “O-of course.”

With a nod in return, Nadia stood. “Then let us not waste daylight.”

About the only thing Nadia and I had in common, physically, was height. She was shorter than me, though not by much. She was, however, much better endowed about the hips and bust than I, with narrower shoulders and waist. This meant that, once I’d picked out clothing in colors she would tolerate, the fit on her was little short of comical. We couldn’t even lace up the tunic all the way. Portia and I shared grins behind Nadia’s back at the dismayed look she wore as she regarded herself in the mirror.

“This just won’t do, Kye. I absolutely cannot go out into the city looking like… this.”

There was genuine distress in her voice, and that wiped the smile off my face. I put my hands on her shoulders and squeezed reassuringly. “Don’t worry, we’re not done yet.” I tugged her back a step so there was room between her and the mirror for me to walk.

Now I just had to hope that my minimal skill with glamor was up to the task. Holding a glamor on myself was different from putting one on someone or something else; I could feel the glamor on myself and tell if it was too weak. I’d have to make sure the one I was about to give Nadia would hold up without that feedback. I walked a full circle around Nadia, scrutinizing the ill-fitting clothes to see what I needed to change. As I did, she… fidgeted. Had I ever seen her fidget before?

I paused in front of her and caught Nadia’s eye. “Is something wrong?”

The Countess drew herself up to her full height, but that didn’t disguise the tension in her shoulders. “Besides the fact that I look utterly ridiculous? No. I must thank you for your offer to lend me an outfit, but I do not think it will work. Let us–” She paused and narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you laughing at me?” she hissed, venomous anger dripping from her voice.

I raised my hands disarmingly and tried to control my expression. “No, no. Not the way you’re thinking.”

“Then please explain.” Each word came out carefully enunciated, silken and cold. Nadia was even more glorious in her rage than I’d ever seen her, with her eyes alight and her smooth skin drawn tight over the elegant bones of her face. Beautiful.

“I wasn’t laughing at the way you look. Just the way you were reacting to it.” All of her reactions either surprised, amused, or intrigued me. This reaction, well. I was intrigued in a very different way. Was it bad that something in the pit of my belly tightened with eagerness under her enraged glare?

“And what about my reaction entertains you so?” Some of her anger had cooled, though she still held herself like a serpent coiled to strike.

Oh, this wasn’t amusement. Her anger didn’t frighten me, it excited me. I tried not to let that show on my face, and also to think of something to say that wouldn’t make her even madder. As much as the thought of her even more enraged made my heart palpitate, I figured that wouldn’t be the smartest thing I’d ever done. And I did try not to be an idiot.

Portia came to my rescue. “Milady, you know Kye doesn’t mean any harm. They weren’t mocking you.”

It was a good thing that Portia stepped in, because I definitely did not have the words. It was probably a mark against my character that her dismay had made me want to laugh, and that her rage now got my blood up. I tried anyway, because I owed Nadia the explanation even if I was ill-equipped to give it. “Not mocking,” I agreed. “Just… the look on your face… it was really cute.” It was a lame attempt, and not really what had happened. I had thought it was cute, but that wasn’t all. But if I had told her that I’d found it funny, she would probably not take it as I’d meant it. It had been funny in an endearing way; she was usually so collected and unflappable that seeing her discomfited was charming.

“’Cute?’” Nadia’s voice could have frozen the moat solid. Yep, I was just making it worse.

I spread my arms in another gesture of peace-making. “I didn’t mean any disrespect, Your Grace. My apologies if that’s how it came across. It will take me a few minutes to cast a glamor that will adjust the fit of these clothes, but if you still want to wear yours, I completely understand.” There. Might as well get away from the subject that had set her off and get back on track. If I couldn’t say the words that would fix my mistake, I could at least do something else that was actually helpful.

Nadia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Temper still smoldered in those scarlet eyes, though the rest of her expression had loosened into something less… ethereal. Something a little more real. It was almost disappointing. “Apology accepted, and I believe I owe you one of my own, Kye. The matter was too trivial to allow myself to become so overwrought. I must beg your forgiveness for my impetuous temper.” She looked down at herself, then back to me. “You say you can correct the fit?”

I wanted to tell her she need not apologize. Nadia struck me as the type who did not do such things lightly, and the fact that she had spoke volumes. But I was afraid I’d say something else stupid if we stayed on the subject, so I just nodded. “Accepted, and yes, I can. If you still want me to.”

In response, Nadia held her arms out from her body as she must for the tailor. “Please proceed.”

I wanted to say that I behaved myself while weaving the glamor. For the most part, I did; it’s not like I had a choice about putting my hands on her in order to surround her in the glamor. To my credit, I didn’t fondle her or anything of the sort while I ensured the tunic and vest left room for her bosom, no matter how tempting that might have been. In fact, despite the temptation, I touched her as little as possible. Maybe the way I trailed my fingertips over her was more teasing than it needed to be, but she didn’t know that.

By the time I was done, I knelt at her feet with my hands lingering at the soft skin of her ankle. Nadia had held very still through the whole thing, and I had not looked anywhere but to my task. So when I raised my face, I was surprised to see that the heat of anger had been replaced with a different kind of heat altogether in Nadia’s face. I noted with dismayed amusement that this expression was just as effective at getting my blood up as her rage had been.

When Nadia bent over a little to slide a hand into my hair, it took effort not to make a sound other than the shaky escape of breath from my parted lips. If Portia hadn’t been in the room, I probably wouldn’t have even exerted that much restraint. Even so, Nadia didn’t even have to tug. The lightest pressure on my cheek and jaw with her elegant fingers had me rising to my feet, my eye still locked with hers.

It was probably a good thing that, with a pleased smirk, Nadia nudged me aside so she could survey my work in the mirror. If she hadn’t, Portia’s presence wouldn’t have held be back for long. I was grateful for the escape from her hypnotic stare.

It frightened me how affected I was by Nadia. Sure, I’d been interested in people before, if rarely. But Nadia was… I didn’t have the words. She was just Nadia, and I felt like a moth drawn to her flame. As cliché as that sounded. And we still barely knew each other, had only been acquainted for a short time. But I still felt this ridiculous desire for more of her, of everything about her.

“This is… not as bad as I feared,” Nadia said reluctantly, drawing me from my half-hysterical contemplations. She smoothed a hand down the front of the vest, where it now hugged the contours of her body as if it had been tailored to her. She turned around and spread her arms, looking from me to Portia.

“It’s a very striking look, milady,” Portia reassured her with a smile.

Skepticism sat heavily on her face. When she turned her gaze to me again, I could say nothing but the truth. “Nadia, you could wear rags and make them look like the finest gown this side of the Baramund Sea by the simple fact that they are being worn by you.”

I vaguely noticed Portia nodding her assent to my words, but my attention was enthralled by Nadia, whose expression had softened into something I wanted to look away from because it was just too much. I didn’t want to think about that look and what it meant. But I couldn’t look away.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

[eternallyseekingleng-blog]

My Truth, My Chaos.

This is going to be raw and I'm not going to agonize over editing it for spelling and grammar like I usually would. I spent a few days contemplating this. It is not an impulsive write up, but rather is reflective of who I am and who I want to be. I did a lot of reflecting and soul searching over it. I wrote it primarily for me, but I want you to see it. It is my past and my truth and you deserve the clarity it provides. Don't feel any obligation to respond.

In my mid twenties I was involved in a number of Poly relationships. I desperately wanted to explore polyamory, even though it was difficult and it made me vulnerable. I wanted the experiences that I wanted, though, and I wasn't afraid to pursue them.

I was 23 when I got involved with a bi-sexual couple, we'll call them R & R. They graciously invited me and a boy who I'd come to love but who I was not involved with (we'll call him B) into their relationship. We had some amazing times that I'll never forget. I showed E (I'll get to her later) a photo of the 4 of us on a couch on a dirt road. It was one of the happiest days of my life. I loved the 4 of us and what we had. Still do. I wanted everyone to be happy. I felt true compersion for the first time and it felt AMAZING. The feeling of the 4 of us kissing each other, together in bed, is a feeling that I've been subconsciously chasing for the past decade.

Eventually I was stolen away from them and another poly relationship I was pursuing by a monogamous, vanilla woman. We'll call her J. At the time I thought that was what I wanted. My other poly partner, we'll call her C (who to this day I still love and talk to) had hurt me through lies and deceit. She'd cheated on me, despite our poly relationship. She was a sub and was unable to communicate effectively with me due to her subbish nature, among other things. I understood and forgave and we were working through it.

J reached out to me, pursued me, and I grabbed on and used her as an escape hatch to avoid dealing with the more difficult aspects of polyamory which I was working through. I abandoned my poly partners and turned my back on who I was and what I wanted because I was still feeling hurt by C's actions. I refused to forgive her for a while and J fostered that refusal. She groomed it. She didn't want me to forgive C. She actively sabotaged my attempts to forgive C.

I spent 7 years with this new person. J wanted me to be something I wasn't. J wanted me to become monogamous for her. I loved her, so I tried. I had terrible self image at the time and I thought no one could truly love me, so I took what I could get. It was a foolish thing to do, but I can be foolish sometimes. But I didn't ONLY love her, and I knew she couldn't accept that, so I never told her and it festered.Over the years she got tired of waiting for me to become something I wasn't, and we became more and more toxic to one another. She left me suddenly. It hurt me a lot, and I felt betrayed, because I loved her. At the same time, however, I also felt a deep sense of relief over something which I couldn't identify. I felt freed! Finally I could pursue me again.

I'd spent so long with J that I'd begun to believe that I truly was monogamous. I stopped thinking about my experiments in polyamory and pan-sexuality as I tried to force myself to change, to be monogamous for her. That didn't work out well. Everyone knows you can't just pretend to be something you're not... at least not for long. Eventually your repression turns you into an unstable neurotic mess. I'd begun to heal myself from my denials. I lost weight and I felt better about myself than ever before. Eventually I accepted the loss of J and I began to let go of the past. I realized that most of the reason I could never propose to J was because I was never going to be the person she wanted me to be. I loved her and I thought she was beautiful but I just couldn't commit to someone based on a foundation of lies about the deepest parts of me. I could never tell her that I still loved other people, that I felt myself poly and pan-sexual. I hid so many things from her because I was afraid to lose her.

At first, when I got back home from the life J and I had been living, I made bumbling mistakes. I was still in denial about who I was as a person. I made grand romantic gestures. I tried to marry someone I'd loved intensely as a young man, and I destroyed a lifelong friendship through my actions. I learned from it, somewhat, but not the full lesson. I moved too fast and I didn't consider the feelings of others. I could go on for a while about what I did and the reasons why, but deep down I see that my actions were motivated by denial, fear, and a futile desire to cling to the vision of myself as the person my ex wanted me to be. I was still in denial about my polyamory and my pansexuality. About the fact that I was never going to be truly happy with only one love in my life, and that I needed to be able to explore that. I had the capacity for more, and I needed more.

I met a person who allowed me to confront who I truly was, and it was as though all of J's actions and needs had been begun to come into focus. I fell in love with this new woman, we'll call her E. It happened more quickly than I could have ever expected, and deep down I knew why. I'd finally begun to face the parts of myself that would make my friends and family uncomfortable. My pan-sexuality, my polyamory, my overall weirdness. It felt so good, and I was so happy about it that I began making stupid mistakes.

Being out of experience with poly lifestyles, they were big mistakes. I did things poorly, disrespected boundaries, and miscommunicated my intentions and needs. I still had a long way to go with my development, and in my confusion I hurt my new lover and her primary. I misunderstood the situation due to a lack of patience and communication. Due to what E had told me, and my own denials of the self, I'd begun to perceive E as being hurt and abused by Z, and I became protective of her. I didn't want to see her hurt by him, and I did things that I deeply regret doing. Things that were motivated not by greed or jealousy or ownership, but by a deep and abiding fear that E and and Z were being hurt by one another in ways that would scar them both for life and impact their families in ways that could never be undone.

They did what they needed to do to protect themselves and their family from me... I was an intruder and a chaos factor which they could not predict or trust. They pushed me away, and I don't blame them at all. Not. At. All. I wouldn't blame them if they never wanted to speak to me again, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I never tried to tell them what I was going through, and to apologize for my actions. To explain myself.

In the days after I was pushed away I dealt with the fallout and it was beautiful. I kept doing my work, I kept going with my personal development. I didn't spiral into depression or start drinking. Yes, it was difficult at first. I panicked as I saw a unique and powerful love slipping away from me, but the panic only lasted for about 24 hours. I grew. I grew faster and more confidently than ever before. Sunlight shone from my eye sockets. I came out to my family about who I am. I came out to them about being Pansexual. They accept me for who I am. I told them that I was poly. Always had been. They accept me for who I am.

I now find myself in a situation where, more than anything, I wish I could apologize. To E certainly, but even moreso to her primary, Z. He deserved to be treated with far more respect than I showed him, and my actions hurt him in a way that I didn't foresee and which may be eternally unforgivable. I respect that I may have damaged things irreparably, and if that's the case then I'll have no choice but to live with the consequences of my actions. I will survive, and I will be a better person through the understanding I gained about myself.

At the very least I've learned about myself, and about how to navigate poly relationships in the future. I need E and Z to know that I recognize the error of my ways, and that I'm fully committed to taking inventory and continuing to develop my skill in navigating poly dynamics. It's not an easy task in a society that normalized monogamy, but I think it's SO worth it. I want to be sure of who I am as a person, lest I cause any more pain through denial of my deepest, weirdest self.

I recognize that I was a blinded fool, and that I inflicted pain and strain on them and their family. This writing is not an attempt to reinsert myself immediately into their lives. Trust is a fragile thing, and once damaged it may be stunted permanently. I know that. I wrote those words.

I promised them that I'd stay away and I intend to honor that promise, but the love and compersion that I feel for E, and the love which that compersion has created in my heart for Z, is very real. I cannot deny it, and I cannot continue to keep it a secret from them.

I hope that this letter does not bring pain to anyone. I do not want to inflict pain on people that I love. I just want to grow, to love, and to help everyone heal. I want their relationship to work out, if that's what they want. I want their friendship, their support, and their understanding. Not because I don't think I can find what I need elsewhere. I know that I can, if I search. I want those things because it's rare to find people who are like you. It's rare to find kindred spirits in this world. When you do you shouldn't just walk away from them without a fight. You shouldn't give up on your dreams just because you made a mistake. We must press on, and we must face our fears. My greatest fear right now is that I've alienated myself, permanently, from two people who will always matter to me.

-A

[apathetic-revenant]

k got more Weirdmageddon thoughts

(same disclaimer as before. no idea if this is relevant to anyone.)

this is the Stan and Ford edition.

obviously at the time everything goes down their relationship is not in a great place. all throughout Weirdmageddon Stan is pretty pissy at Ford and keeps bringing up how he bears a lot of responsibility for what happened and questioning how much use Ford is actually going to be in defeating Bill. he’s so angry that he’s still demanding gratitude from Ford even at an incredibly crucial moment that decides the fate of the world. he acts resentful of the attention and prioritizing Ford and how everyone is ignoring his role in bringing Weirdmageddon about in the first place, even though at that point prioritizing Ford is a matter of basic practicality since he’s the only one that has the knowledge to defeat Bill.

there are some layers here, I think. 

so here’s a thing: that I can recall, and that we see, between the initial conversation in A Tale of Two Stans and that moment in Weirdmageddon Part 3, Stan doesn’t push Ford for a ‘thank you’. obviously he’s not getting on real well with his brother during that time but he’s not hounding him for gratitude or apology. he acquiesces without argument when Ford says he’s throwing him out of the house at the end of the summer (yes, it’s Ford’s house, yes, Ford absolutely has the right to want it back, but Stan has nowhere else to go). he recognizes that Dipper and Ford are good for each other (at least in some ways) and lets them hang out under the caveat that Ford doesn’t get Dipper into trouble, which of course he does but that’s beside the point. Stan’s obviously got a lot of resentment towards Ford in the latter half of season 2 but it’s sort of quiet resentment. he’s not really trying to affect a change in Ford’s behavior towards him until that last moment.

so why does it all come to a head right then? could just be that it’s been building up for a while and ready to blow, and that’s obviously a very tense situation all around, and while I think that definitely had something to do with it I think also the events of Weirdmageddon really hit Stan in a sore point that was about more than just Ford being treated like the more important twin.

because from Stan’s perspective, Ford’s not just being treated like a hero and the guy who’s gonna save the day, etc, etc. he’s also being forgiven for his mistakes in a way that Stan is not, and never has been.

between the two of them, both Stan and Ford could be said to bear some responsibility for Weirdmageddon. Ford of course was the one who initially summoned Bill and built the portal, while Stan reactivated that portal to bring Ford back at great risk and cost. (of course, the person who’s actually responsible is Bill, but why put the blame where it rightfully belongs when we can have angsty family fun time.) they both made mistakes but they both had good(ish) reasons for that and they both tried to rectify them. but all that Ford will acknowledge to Stan is the mistake. that he, Stan, screwed up. now to be fair almost destroying the universe is a pretty big deal and I’d say Ford has justification for being a bit upset about Stan intentionally running that risk. but Ford doesn’t say “I understand why you did what you did but I wish you hadn’t because it was horribly dangerous”. he doesn’t say “I wish you hadn’t done what you did but I acknowledge that it would never have gotten to that point if I hadn’t also made mistakes.” he just says “you screwed up.” we know that Ford feels pretty horrible about his mistakes with Bill and he certainly suffered a lot for them, but he doesn’t communicate that to Stan.

then Weirdmageddon rolls around and once again, no one’s bringing up Ford’s role in it. granted Ford’s role in it isn’t exactly all that widely known, and also there’s no point in going on about it because the practical issue is that we need Ford to be alive and we can harangue him after the apocalypse is over, but from Stan’s perspective it must be hard not to see that as everyone glossing over Ford’s mistakes once again.

and that has got to be a sore point. I don’t think Stan’s resentment towards Ford really has all that much to do with Ford being the Smart twin or the Better twin. Stan has a really low opinion of himself and for a lot of his life he seems to pretty much accept that Ford is better than him. which is of course super unhealthy, but I don’t think it’s what drives that resentment. I think what bothers Stan most of all is that Ford is forgiven when Stan is not.

Stan made one very small mistake in a moment of anger and it cost him everything. he lost his whole family, his home, his future, his dreams, and had to live an absolutely miserable existence for ten years. his family wouldn’t forgive him that and even Ford wouldn’t forgive him that. and it’s worth pointing out that that mistake cost Stan way more than it cost anyone else; Ford didn’t get into his dream school but it doesn’t seem to have deterred him from doing what he wanted all that much, whereas Stan…well, you know what happened to Stan. but despite that Ford still doesn’t forgive Stan for what happened or even acknowledge that it was an honest mistake ten years later (although to be fair to Ford he was pretty preoccupied at the time). then Stan spends thirty years trying to bring Ford back and again, all he gets is more blame. when Stan wants Ford to thank him, I don’t think it’s just about wanting gratitude, wanting a “well done!” and a pat on the back, I think he wants Ford to just acknowledge that not everything he did was bad. that he screwed up but he also did something right. because that’s what Ford gets. Ford gets second chances but when Stan screws up no one will let him forget it.

this is, of course, an incomplete view of the situation on Stan’s part (then again, ‘an incomplete view of the situation’ could be the Pines family motto); like I said, he doesn’t know, at least at the time of Weirdmageddon, how much Ford has paid and is willing to pay for his mistakes. but I think it’s a view that has something to do with Stan’s attitude during Weirdmageddon, of why he’s so pessimistic about their chances with Ford’s plan because he knows that Ford can make mistakes and why does no one ever see that. and when it comes down to it he wants Ford to say thank you before he’ll take part in the plan because dammit all he’s ever been called, all he’s ever been allowed to be, is a screw-up, and now he’s literally part of a circle of chosen ones prophesied to save the world and he’s still being treated like nothing more than a screw-up and I think in that moment he’s saying, alright, you want me to be a part of this, then either I am worth something in which case you can bloody well acknowledge that for once, or I’m not in which case this plan is never going to work anyway so why are we bothering. 

(that is, of course, a terrible moment to bring that up. but you know what? I’ve snapped and stopped acting like a reasonable person from way less stress than the literal end of the world. so you know, I’m not sure I can entirely blame Stan (or Ford, for that matter) for flipping a gear at the wrong time after being in mortal peril and seeing horrific things and being beat up and exhausted for like a week.)

and you know, in a lot of ways, I think you could say the exact same thing about Ford, that his resentment comes from what he sees as Stan not owning up to his mistakes. when he calls Stan out for breaking his machine Stan basically shrugs that off and brings up something important to him. I wonder if things would have gone different if Stan hadn’t said the whole “hey, silver lining!” thing at that moment, if all he’d done was apologize sincerely. (note that I am not saying that that means what ultimately happens is Stan’s fault, just that he unintentionally exacerbated Ford’s anger right then.) Ford makes some big mistakes with Bill but he suffers a lot trying to undo them and then his brother just screws it up all over again and he wants Ford to be grateful? why can’t he admit that he did wrong by starting the portal again? 

both brothers make a lot of mistakes and they’re willing to do a lot to fix those mistakes but because of their terrible communication skills they never actually say “I’m willing to do a lot to fix my mistakes” so they just hate each other forever. 

and the thing is that their approaches here are kind of inverse. I think Ford thinks of his mistakes in a very personal way. like he screwed up, he trusted Bill, he was an idiot, and he beats himself up for that but he doesn’t really think of it in terms of like, how does that affect the people immediately around him. he thinks of it on a big scale-how he’s put, like, the entire universe in danger-but not in the sense of, I hurt these individual people. we see that with Stan but also kind of with Fiddleford and with the kids, especially Dipper. Ford’s self-centered not so much in like a “I genuinely think I’m the most important person ever” way, more in a way of genuinely being oblivious to the effect he has on people around him. Stan is the opposite: he’s got low self-esteem out the wazoo but he kind of just accepts that as a basic fact of the universe and carries on, he doesn’t like spend a lot of time crucifying himself for it if there’s something more important to do. but he’s sensitive to the people around him and how he’s affecting them (most of the time) and he’ll do things to try to fix that, even if not necessarily very well, but he doesn’t see the big picture as much which is why he risked so much to bring Ford back. you could say that in terms of recognizing their mistakes and their impacts on others, Ford is far-sighted and Stan is near-sighted. 

but I think that all comes to a head when Stan offers to get memory wiped to defeat Bill. because I think that’s the point when Ford realizes, really finally realizes, how far Stan is willing to go to fix things. up until then I don’t think he really got how low Stan’s self-esteem is, how much he’s willing to sacrifice. like we know that Stan sacrificed thirty years of his life to bring Ford back and we know that he was willing to fake his own death-he basically wiped out his own identity and figured well, it never did anyone any good anyway. but Ford could easily see that as Stan just wanting to take advantage of his brother’s good name and better position in life. we know Stan thinks of himself pretty lowly but without much perspective on that Ford could just think, he’d rather be a deadbeat than put any effort into making something of himself. on the surface Stan seems like he has an absolutely huge ego and Ford, being Ford and quite frankly terrible at reading people, could I think very easily buy into that, especially after forty years apart. (Headhunters is the perfect example of this; we see Stan seeming to just have the ultimate ridiculous ego trip over this wax statue of himself, and then later you find out about him and Ford and you realize…)

but in that moment? when Stan offers to swap? he knows. he knows that Stan is willing to make the ultimate self-sacrifice to save the day. he knows that Stan actually does think so little of himself that he considers the total loss of everything that makes him him to be no big deal. he knows that Stan is truly and utterly willing to go the utmost to fix his mistakes. but by that point there’s nothing he can do with that information except to effectively execute his own brother. 

and, at that point, they kind of swap perspectives. Ford is only seeing the small picture, the danger to the kids and Stan, and he’s willing to do something big and ridiculous and threatening to the whole world to prevent it. Stan sees the big picture, everything that’s at stake, and he knows he has to do something to fix that but ultimately his fix is on a pretty small scale: not a big prophecy, not a world-changing deal, just a short, simple con and the loss of one person. 

and afterwards? they both have new perspective. they both understand that when the chips are down both of them are truly willing to sacrifice everything. they both have a bit better understanding of the scale of their actions. Ford, especially, because not only did he gain perspective on what it’s like to lose a brother by your own hand, he gained perspective on Stan’s true character. so it’s significant that Ford is the one to reach out and try to fix things on a small scale, not a world-saving scale, not a cosmic scale, just a person-to-person scale. he validates Stan in the best way he can, he makes it clear that Stan is important, because not only did he not realize that but now he knows that Stan didn’t realize that either. 

what they end up doing is, I think, an important compromise between their two perspectives. they’re both acknowledging the things that are important to each other. Ford’s accepting the smaller scale of things, he’s not trying to be so important anymore, he still wants to carry on doing what he loves but he’s not trying to solve the fundamental secrets of the universe. he’s finally okay with the smaller perspective. and he acknowledges that while Stan’s dream might not be big in the way that his was it’s still important. and Stan is perfectly happy to let Ford nerd out as much as he wants as long as he doesn’t let it take over everything.

it took them almost seventy years but they got there in the end. 

[soreillia]

Faith and Lies - Chapter II: A Feast Without Food Is NOT a Feast!

[[Continuation from this writing. I'm still not sure how to name this chapter-- Chapter DERP YOLO STORY TO CATCH UP- ok I will edit someday. How do monster eggs work? I MAKE THEM WORK LIKE POKEBALLS LOL, Reirei kind of turned... wibu? How does white herbs work to heal wounds? *RUBS ONTO SKIN* Noo Sacred, he is supposed to eat them! *SHOVES INTO MOUTH* Iyaa hentai!! Yamette~~!! ...who is Ragnis btw? I never heard of this name. How to write about an unknown person? /GETAXE ]]

In the afternoon of Sacred Blood’s return to her mansion after years of absence due to her mission in Arunafeltz, the Guillotine Cross Reiru and her best friend the Royal Guard Sacred were planning to have a feast in the evening to celebrate their reunion. “Reiru has eaten all the food, there is nothing left, master.” Riza, the Sohee serving as Sacred’ maid, informed her owner. “Ah…! Well, knowing my friend I did not expect there to be any food left to be honest. Riza, we will go buy food for the dinner. You will stay here.”

“Very well, master.” Riza bowed politely. “I apologize, I am leaving you alone once again, Riza. Oh... that reminds me. There is someone I have to introduce to you.” Sacred walked to one of her bags, she was carrying with her on her journey and rummaged inside it. The Royal Guard took out an oval object; it was a monster egg. Reiru glanced on it surprised. “Is this an ingredient for some special omelette?” “Oh, no! Hihi, must you always think of food, Reiru?” Sacred chuckled. “Master, this is a monster egg, isn’t it? What is inside of it…?” “You will see in a moment! Just a second, let me get an incubator.” Sacred left the room leaving Riza and Reiru in curiosity. After a moment Sacred returned followed by a woman wearing a crimson-colored kimono and very long black hair reaching to her knees. “May I introduce you to my new servant? Her name is Reirei. She will support Riza from today on.” “Konnichiwa, minna-san… It is my pleasure to meet you.” The woman bowed politely. Reiru and Riza stared at the new servant. She was a Miyabi Ningyo monster known to live in the far away island of Amatsu. “She is really pretty, master…” “You mean… ‘pretty’ scary-” Reiru commented whispering to herself as she noticed the creepy creature on the back of the head of the monster woman. “Uh, so you got another demon woman as pet, huh? If I wouldn’t know you, Sore, I would think something strange of you... thehe. But seriously you named her R… Reirei…? Another one starting with an “R”, huh?” “Hihi, hope you will all get along. The name Reirei is actually taken from your name, Reiru! Like I named Riza after my mother Frederica von Creutz. Oh and then there is Rhyrhy also, who is based on Rhyzern! I must introduce him to you too, when we get the opportunity.” “‘Rica’… ‘Riza’…? You just changed one letter…?” Reiru was kind of confused about the namings of her best friend. “...And who is Rhyrhy… or Rhyzern?” “Arigatou for your kind welcome. Ohh… Rhy-san is not here?” Reirei looked around looking for someone. “He was a great help during my mission. He is a Rune Knight, who I met in Rachel. We traveled together for a while till we arrived here in Prontera and then we sadly went separate ways.” “So you were traveling with some guy, huh? Was he good looking and nice? You sound like you were enjoying his company.” Reiru loved teasing her friend. “I-I did not mean it like that! I was just saying he is very skilled with spear and I have not met any Rune Knight yet who was fighting together with his red ferus partner side by side like this!” “‘Skilled with spear’…? I… see.” Reiru smirked. “He must be a really nice person, master.” “Anyways! Reirei will be staying with you Riza. She is very friendly and loves dolls, she also loves sewing dolls! I want to show her my collection later, hehe~ Could you please show her around the mansion Riza, while we are gone? I also want to give her a cute looking maid uniform later to wear~!” “Is this some kind of fetish…?” The purple haired guillotine cross muttered. “Sure, master. I wish that Reirei will feel like home in our mansion.” “Thank you, Riza!” “Hmm… You better tell me the story of how you found these two “maids” later, Sore! I’m curious how an Odin devoted Royal Guard like you is keeping all these demon woman as pets! I hope you won’t get a Succubus next for your collection, huhu~!” “Huh, S-succubus?! I would never keep such a filthy and indecent demon in my mansion! Riza and Reirei might be demons, but you should not judge a book by its cover! Remembering all the troubles we went through I suppose this will be a long evening with a lot of story telling.” ~~~ Sacred and Reiru left together to buy food in the prontera market, while the other two girls waited for them inside the mansion. They walked together through the crowded market to find the ingredients they need. “Walking with you here… feels so safe!” Reiru looked around her surroundings very carefully. “HEY AREN’T YOU THAT THIEF?!” Some merchant from the side shouted pointing at Reiru. “Thief, where?!” Sacred took out her sword, prepared to fight and guard the people in need. “S-sore-- calm yourself! Let’s walk faster! I can already smell some delicious food nearby!” Reiru nervously pushed her best-friend through the crowds trying to get away fast from the angry merchant, who recognized Reiru. Seeing Sacred’s spicky armor, the people on the street immediately took a step away from the Royal Guard to their own safety. “Huuuuh…? Did he mean you…?” The armored woman looked quite confused, while being pushed along the way still, just realizing that there was no thief seen and and angry merchant chasing them for a moment, but then gave up after a few meters losing sight of them in the crowd. “Did you cause troubles again, my dear friend?” Sacred figured, since her best friend was known to steal food in the past from the merchants and many times the Royal Guard went to pay the merchants as redemption. “Hihihi-- well not veeeery recently! However I guess I’m pretty much a known thief here by now! People should not over exaggerate just because I took an apple or two.” Reiru scratched her head feeling a bit embarrassed, that she was caught a few times just because she forgot to use her hide skill. At that very moment a loud “OUCH!!” was heard coming from a male voice, who was calling out in pain. Sacred's sturdy plated armor, which had some spikes on its curves, accidentally poked a stranger who was in their way. “Oh no-- I apologize, Sir! Are you okay-?” The man before them was a Mastersmith rather tall in height; a familiar dark blue color, with light blue highlight coated his hair. The ache was making him cringe, sitting on the ground. “Urgh, no not really- I’m kind of bleeding here-- haha... This is the very first time a pretty lady stabbed me right into my chest...!” Even though he was in pain, the man still jested. “Oh no… we must treat his wounds!” Sacred was shocked seeing the wound, she caused on his body, which was already covered with bandages on his chest. The wound was exactly on a part, which was not covered with his bandages. She kneeled down to him, rummaged in her bag to find a box with a salve made of white herbs, which she rubbed on the wound. It was well-known for their medication effect on external wounds. “AAh- You could be more gentle to me lovely angel-- This hurts even more!” “If it burns it is doing its work. Your pain will ease very soon with this ointment.” “Ragnis, what are you doing here?!” “Oooh hey! Reiru, there you are! I was worried since you suddenly disappeared without a word! Thought this guy did something to ya again….” “Oh… you are Sir Ragnis? I wondered, why you look so familiar. Maybe I should ask for another commission to craft a certain sword or spear, if you are free to work on it.” “I am glad you remember me and seeing you doing well, Lady Sacred! It is an honor to me to be remembered by a Lady like you are, who is also interested in my work! I will create the best weapon ever just for you!” “She only remembered you because I brought up your name, silly…! But yeah… I actually wanted to return fast after checking something, so yeah... sorry to make you worried about me, Ragnis.” Sacred giggled after hearing Ragnis words. “I heard of your heroic deeds, Sir Ragnis. You protected my best friend Reiru, while I was gone and prevented terrible events to happen. I thank you so very much! I just returned today to prontera, so we had the idea to do a little “welcome back” celebration. This is the reason, why Reiru and I were on our way to buy the necessary food for the preparations for dinner. Mind to join our little celebration? It would be rude for us to not invite Reiru’s hero! I also want to hear more stories about what happened.” Sacred friendly smiled at Ragnis and offered her his hand to help him get back up. “You don’t really have to thank me, a prince must help the damsel in distress! I surely cannot decline your offer, Lady Sacred! I’m very honored!” Ragnis took her hand and the sturdiness of Sacred’s gauntlet combined with her strength made him clench his teeth, being a little bit intimidated of her strength. “Hurgh… for a pretty lady you surely have a firm grip. I am amazed by you, Lady Sacred.” “She almost killed you and crushed your hand, but you are still flirting with her, huh? You surely are a weirdo.” Reiru commented, while watching the scene between them. “Let’s go then and get what we need, I’m getting hungry!” The Guillotine Cross walked ahead. “Hihi, that’s so typical Reiru! She is always hungry and getting fast impatient! She is like a hungry wolf, who will eat us if we do not provide any meal soon!” Sacred and Ragnis followed after Reiru, who couldn’t wait for their feast in the evening.