#at this point i feel like the seventh has to be here somewhere -

[bestworstcase]

every time i turn around there’s another name of the fucking chandler.

[james-spooky]

this is a test

[wearebarca]

11. Captured // Alexia Putellas x Original character pt. 11

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8* - Part 9* - Part 10

synopsis: Rosalie has never stayed somewhere too long. When the opportunity of a lifetime presents itself at critical moment in her life, the photographer decides to once again leave behind what she knows and joins the staff of Europe's best football team.

Word count: 5,6k

Warnings: 18+ Smut

A/N: This is the beginning of the end mes amis/es

Running long distances puts the mind and body through a multitude of states. It usually starts with exaltation from the feeling of being surrounded by people moving together. This feeling was usually followed by a sort of calmness that washes over ones self.  Alone in your thoughts, only one thing remained, the finish line. 

The first few miles were  crucial, they separated the ones with a time goal from the rest. By the fifth kilometer there were very few people around the photographer, which was a good sign. 

She was satisfied with her pace when she reached the first drink station at  the seventh kilometer. With her eyes on the prize and the world around her muffled by her earphones, she almost missed them. They were all wearing caps and sunglasses to not be recognized, but the amount of decibels emanating from the little group alone pulled the woman from her focus. Panos, Irene, Patri and Pina were standing on the side of the road  cheering. Rosalie almost lost it when she read the sign the youngest was carrying. “Pain is just French for bread.” 

She gave them all high fives, grabbed a cup of water and kept her pace. Seven kilometers later, she was met with another little group. This time, it was Frido, Ingrid, Aitana and Mapi who were just as loud. Mapi even ran a few meters with her while Ingrid took a few pictures. There was a group at every drink stop. Arsenal and Barcelona players mixing together, for today they were not only footballers and rivals, they were here to support their friend.

There’s this thing which every runner fears during a race. It’s almost inevitable. It’s this threshold where it feels like your body is giving up. Where your energy runs so low that you think your legs will give out under you if you take another step forward. It’s that point in the race where you wonder if you should just stop, give up, where you wonder if this is all worth it. It’s the breaking point. Most runners know this moment as “hitting the wall” 

This moment lies at a different moment for each person, and is often always at the same stage in each race. Experience runners know exactly at which kilometer they will face their wall, and Rosalie could feel hers arriving at the thirty fourth. That’s where breathing became more of an issue, when each step felt like she had lead in her feet. Her arms felt heavy and her head was pounding. Her steps faltered and the pain made the photographer slow down considerably. But still she ran, she was in complete autopilot, unable to focus on anything else but the pain she could feel coursing through her body. It couldn’t end here, not when she was only eight km away from the end. But her body was so heavy, she wasn’t sure if it could carry her to the finish line. 

Alexia had chosen the last drink stop. She had a feeling. The kind that she could not explain but told her that this would be where she was needed. She had driven there and parked on the side of the street. Upon arriving at the drink station, she saw that Sara, along with Lucy and Keira had already made themself comfortable. They were surprised to see the Spanish woman arrive alone, thinking she would be with the rest of the team at an earlier stop. They greeted her with a hug still and made some space in their little stop for the captain.

 “So what made you choose this stop to cheer?” Keira asked, knowing damn well that the brunette wouldn’t have told Alexia that this would most likely be her worst moment of this race.

“I do not know Keira,” She said perplexed, “ Is this not a good spot?” She asked. The woman's expression had sprinkled doubt in her mind. It almost felt like she shouldn’t be here. 

“Lucia?” She said towards the English woman, seeing as the younger woman had turned towards her, not knowing if she should say anything to her captain. 

Lucy took a big breath. “This usually is the point in a race where Rosalie breaks.” She said with a slightly worried expression. “No one besides us and her trainers knows about this.” She said her eyes went back to the street for a second before coming back to the blonde. “She doesn’t like to be seen like this, so we’re usually the only ones allowed at this stop when she runs this many kilos.” 

Alexia understood this. She hated when people witnessed her weakness. She understood why the brunette preferred to only have her family here when she was at her lowest, but she also felt deep down that she was right to be here. 

The first racers zoomed past the station, running at a pace that looked impossible to keep. They were professionals and it showed. While the footballers spoke, Sara stayed silent, her eyes fixed on the street, her phone out with the chrono app opened. She had tracked the race with the help of the other Barcelona players who had texted her at exactly what time Rosalie had reached each hydration stop. She knew that the photographer was not far behind this wave. Three hours and forty five minutes was the goal time, and at seven kilometers from the end and three hours and seven minutes passed, Rosalie should be at this station in less than five minutes. 

So when Sara first saw the outline of Rosalie’s silhouette, she was surprised. She had been faster than what they had both thought. Sara was aware of Rosalie’s wall. They had talked about it extensively, and seeing her this early only accentuated her worries. She stood up to try and catch a better look at the woman and realized two things. First, the brunette wasn’t running in a straight line, she was slightly zigzagging in the street, clearly unstable on her feet. And second, her head was hanging low. Her sudden movement startled the footballers who instantly rose to their feet and to see. 

Lucy had a worried yet knowing look upon seeing her friend running towards them. Keira took a step towards the road, but was met with Lucy’s arm keeping her from taking a step.

 “But she’s…”One look from the woman was enough to shut her up. Meanwhile Alexia stood frozen in place, torn between running towards her and staying here. In the end, Sara was the only one who met the French-Canadian in the street. She simply ran next to her, muttering encouraging words and telling her how fast she had run this race and how close she was to the end. But Rosalie registered none of it. She didn’t need to. All that was important to her was knowing that she was with people she loved right now and that was what made her keep moving. 

She saw Lucy’s proud expression, Keira’s quiet excitement, but the thing that hit her the most, was Alexia. Alexia who had chosen this specific stop without knowing, who’s gaze was filled with pride and something that looked a lot like reverence was fixed on her. Those bright hazel eyes that shone in the sunlight. She was smiling, and clapping with the rest of the small crowd, but Rosalie’s whole perspective seemed to narrow down to her. 

Something being thrusted in her hands pulled the brunette from her trance like state and reminded her of her current predicament. Upon looking down, she realized that she had been given some glucide gummies and a granola bar. She shoved the gummies in her mouth and gave back the bar to Sara along with a look that meant, “It’s ok, I’ll be ok.” 

The pain was still very much present, but so was the determination to finish this race. When she passed in front of the English woman, she winked at them and smiled, which pulled a laugh from them both. Alexia had her hand out, waiting for the photographer to grab it, which she did and let herself be pulled in a quick embrace.

 “You are amazing.” She heard the words being whispered in her ear before letting go of her hand and running towards the finish line with a newly lit fire. 

Catching the sight of the red inflatable archway was definitely in the top ten most euphoric moments of Rosalie’s life. She had pushed farther than she ever had and this was the tangible proof of her unrelenting efforts. The last 300 meters had the street flanked by gates with people twice as loud as they were at the beginning. Even if the runners were at their very last flicker of strength, the energy of the crowd and the sheer euphoria was enough to carry them to the line.

The closest she got, the wider her smile was stretching. Gone was the looming pressure in her abdomen that had been her companion for the last ten kilometers, gone was the heaviness in her legs that made her drag her feet. This was it, and her whole family was here to witness it. Beth was the first she spotted, most likely because she was the loudest one of the bunch, and around her, the rest of the Arsenal girls and Barcelona team were also cheering loudly. The moment her feet crossed the finish line, her head snapped to the group, on her face, the brightest smile they had seen her make in a long time. Collecting her medal was only an afterthought in her mind, the most important thing was to run to the gate and launch herself in the arms of this group of footballers who she considered her family. Only one person was allowed to cross over the gate with her. Usually, it was either Lucy or Leah who did, but this time, Rosalie caught herself wishing the blonde captain would. But nothing was official between the two, hell, they haven't even talked about anything remotely related to that subject. She was also aware of the presence of cameras all around, and the fact that the footballers had clearly been recognized by the looks that were sent their way. 

So she was not hurt when a volunteer ushered the player to cross the barrier only for the captain to decline and let Lucy pass. She would get her moment with the photographer later, and she would make sure Rosalie knew just how proud she was. As soon as the English player had passed the barrier, she grabbed the photographer in a bone crushing hug and lifted her off the ground. A multitude of photographers had converged towards them and captured the euphoric moments between sisters. 

Lucy did not put her down, but instead, started to walk towards the big screen a few meters from there. It displayed the arrival time of the runners and in which place they had finished the race. It had not even occurred to her that she should go see her time. Rosalie could feel in her bones that this had been a very good run but never had she thought that she could be high on the positions. So she began her search for her name at the bottom of the screen, and the more her eyes travelled up, the more incredulous she was. 

Twenty thousand runners in total. Twenty thousand people and she had placed fifth. Second, fastest woman, fifth place at her second marathon. She was frozen in place, with Lucy’s arms still around her and the crowds screaming around her. She turned around again to meet this captivating hazel gaze. The smile that stretched Rosalie’s features filled the captain’s heart with so much pride as she extended her arms, waiting for the brunette to crash into her. 

“I’m all sweaty and disgusting,” She whispered in the crook of her neck.

“I don’t care.” Alexia responded, holding her fiercely, not caring anymore about the gate between them nor all the eyes fixed on them. 

From there the afternoon flew by in a blur for the photographer, who got to collect her medal and met up  with the rest of her group under the restaurant / bar tent. It was easy to forget her body’s exhaustion when the atmosphere around her was so electric and festive. She got the chance to take pictures with all her friends and even some with the Barcelona players who had come to support her. She knew the media team would have a field day with those and for once, she would not mind the spotlight. 

No one had picked up their phones other than for pictures, so no one was aware of the shockwave some of those pictures were creating in the football world. This time was not meant for worries and public image, but for celebration. Rosalie was in the middle of a conversion with some of the runners she had met when a hand grabbed hers and gently guided her out of the tent. She was now in a calm, secluded spot outside, once again, in the arms of the woman who had quickly become such an important part in her life. 

“How does it feel to be one of the best?” Alexia asked playfully.

“You already know, I don’t need to describe it to you.” The brunette said. Alexia smiled at that, her hand moving on its own accord and tucking a stray strand of hair behind Rosalie’s ear. 

“I know you’re probably exhausted, but I was wondering if you would come over to my place tonight.” She said, bending down so her lips were leveled with the brunette's ear. “I want to show you just how proud I am of you.” She whispered in a low husky voice that made Rosalie’s breath hitch. Alexia’s lips brushed against the shell of her ear and Rosalie’s eyes closed, trying to concentrate on staying upright. Too caught up in the moment, none of them heard the click of a camera, nor the rapid movement of someone exiting the premises. 

After dinner, it was agreed that the Arsenal girls would head back to their hotel and they would all make plans together in the afternoon to let Rosalie relax. As the group started to gather their stuff, Rosalie headed to the spot where she had left her bags and was followed by Alexia and Lucy. ALexia picked up most of the burnette's bags and Lucy sent a look her way, quickly understanding that the marathonian would not ride back with her. She gave one last hug to the girl, telling her again how proud she was and that she would call her in the morning to plan something with her and the rest of the arsenal girls. She then headed back to the table, but not without teasing the duo one last time. 

Stepping into the space, The first thing Rosalie noticed was the hurried sound of little steps coming their way. It only took a second for the small dog to make its appearance in the corridor. Nala beelined for the photographer who, not without wincing, bent down to collect the fluffy beast. 

“Wow I see how it is.” Alexia chuckled as she took her shoes off and bent down to unlace Rosalie’s trainers. Rosalie sat down on the small bench and let the footballer slide her shoes off. She took Rosalie’s free hand and guided her deeper into her home. 

The long corridor was framed by a multitude of jerseys all from different teams and with different names. Rosalie recognized most of them, some being legends and others she had heard of. 

“These are all from jersey swaps.” Alexia said, noticing the brunette’s interest. “All from games that matter a lot to me.” She said, her gaze distant as it stopped on a particular England jersey. It was Lucy’s, from the 2022 Euro final. Suddenly, something changed in those hazel irises. “I know you are biased, Rosalia, but this is our time.” She said with determination.

Rosalie could only admire the strength and determination Alexia was showing, but she also was dreading this tournament for this exact reason. Both of the teams were likely the favorites and the chances of facing each other in the finals were high. 

Alexia seemed to come out of her trance and guided the brunette deeper into her space. The corridor led to a very spacious open kitchen concept. The apartment was on two stories, with a high ceiling and a mezzanine that likely led to the master bedroom and bathroom. The walls were white and decorated with minimalist artwork. The space was dimly lit which brought a cosy feeling to this big open space. It was all very Alexia. Very simple, almost bare, but homely nonetheless. 

“There’s not much to look at, I know.” The blonde said. “I just don’t like to feel cluttered.

“Non non it’s very nice, I like it.” Rosalie said with a smile. Alexia answered with her own as she made her way up the stairs. She motioned to the photographer and she followed, not without struggling to climb the stairs with her exhausted legs. Before she had reached the top, she heard the sound of a bath being drawn. When she arrived in the master bathroom, Alexia had lit up a myriad of candles and was sitting on the side of the bath to test the water temperature. “You don’t have to Ale.” 

Alexia stood up and walked the few feet separating her from the brunette. “I know, but I want to, hermosa.” Alexia left a gentle kiss on Rosalie’s forehead and left the bathroom, allowing the brunette the space to undress and relax. Rosalie lost track of how long she stayed there, but by the time she pulled herself out of the tub, the water was lukewarm and her skin had pruned. She wrapped her towel around her and walked out of the bathroom. She peered over the railing to see if the taller woman was downstairs but there was no sign of her. She walked down the corridor to what she assumed was Alexia’S bedroom, where she could hear faint music playing

She stopped at the door, taking in the room, and the woman inside. Alexia had changed from her jeans and hoodie, to comfy looking linen shorts, and what appeared to be Rosalie’s college T-shirt. She smiled at the thought of Alexia stealing the piece of clothing and imagined her going around in her apartment with it on while the photographer was away in London.

She then took in the rest of the room. The same decoration style translated from the rest of the apartment to Alexia’s bedroom, but the space seemed more personal with a few pictures hung on the walls. Some were with familiar faces, teammates from barça or some she recognized from the national team, and others that featured women who shared a striking resemblance to the captain.  One in particular caught the photographer’s attention as she stepped in the room and stepped in front of the frame. 

They were at the beach. Alexia was wearing the same bikini she had on the day they all went together. She was clinging to an older woman and kissing her cheek while the other one, a younger brunette, was kissing the other cheek. Joy seemed to seep out of this photograph and Rosalie could not help but smile at it. 

“ This is my sister and my mother.” Alexia said as she made her way towards the brunette and wrapped her arms around Rosalie’s waist.

“ You guys look close.” Rosalie said. The words felt bittersweet in her mouth as a fleeting thought of her own relationship with her mother crossed her mind. “You are lucky.” She finally said with a small smile playing on her lips.

“ Oh I do not know about that.” Alexia chuckled. “Alba can be a pain in the ass. Tan entrometida.”

“Aren’t all siblings?” Rosalie said laughing. Alexia paused for a second, impressed by the fact that Rosalie caught what she had said.

“Yes, I’ve been working on my Spanish.” She said with a cheeky smile as she turned in Alexia’s arms, facing her. “So Capitana, mind telling me what this setup is for?.” Rosalie said, motioning to the bed behind them.

Alexia took the brunette’s hand and guided her to the bed, she lightly pushed her down,but with her level of exhaustion, it didn’t take much for the photographer to tumble down on the bed. Only then did she realize a towel had been laid down on the sheets. 

“ Mais qu’est-ce…” Before she could finish her sentence, Alexia left her side to pick up a bottle that Rosalie recognized as massage oil. “ Oh, tu es parfaite.” 

Alexia smiled, having understood partly what the French-Canadian had said. “ You relax now, bonita.” She said, popping the cap opened. 

Alexia’s hands felt divine as they worked through the muscle of her legs. She worked with precision, applying pressure where she felt knots and easing the tension in the muscles. Every swipe of her hand threatened to pull a moan from the photographer.

 “Alexia this is..” Rosalie could not even finish her sentence because a particular press at the muscle of her thigh forced a groan from her lips. “ Where did you learn this.”

“ I have had my fair share of physio appointments to have learned a thing or two.” When Alexia was done, the photographer was half asleep on the bed, body like jelly and in a state of relaxation she wasn’t sure she had ever experienced. “Rosalia,” Alexia whispered, “We have to wash away the oil, come.”

Rosalie could only hum at the blonde, who laughed and picked up the smaller woman and carried her to the bathroom once again. They showered together, scrubbing the oil away, but not without getting carried away in the process. When they finally slipped back under the covers, it only took a minute for the photographer to be whisked away in a deep slumber. Alexia pulled the brunette in her embrace and settled behind her, soon following her in the realm of dreams. 

If you’d ask Rosalie about her favorite types of morning, she would tell you something along the lines of early breakfast, a good run, a shower and a late brunch alone  or with good company. But that was before this morning. Before she knew that it was possible to be woken up by the crescendo of her release rapidly approaching. She woke up gasping, her body jolting, but powerful hands were holding her hips down on the sheets, trapping Rosalie under Alexia’s relentless mouth. 

One of her hands grabbed her pillow as the other tangled itself in blonde locks. She could feel Alexia’s lips curl into a smile. “Bon dia Rosalia.” She all but purred, the vibration sending a shock through her whole body. 

Rosalie didn’t get the chance to answer the captain because her sentence was cut short by a guttural moan escaping her lips as she felt two fingers enter her. 

Alexia met no resistance as she lazily pumped her fingers, matching the rhythm of her tongue on her clit. She knew that Rosalie was close by the way she was squeezing her fingers. She switched the movement of her tongue to wrapping her lips around her clit and gently sucking. She curled her fingers and found that specific place which pushed Rosalie over the edge, the sensation growing so strong, she lost control of her body. Her mind going blank, she finally surrendered completely to her release. 

Alexia held her through it, her fingers slowing down but not stopping, wanting to drag out every ounce of Rosalie’s orgasm. Only when the fingers in her hair started to pull lightly did she finally pulled her fingers out and kiss her up the runner’s body. She was simply mesmerizing. Her chest was heaving still, her brunette hair was sprawled on the pillow in a hollow and a light smile was playing on her lips. 

“How are you feeling, little champion?” Alexia whispered before kissing her cheek lightly. 

“Wonderful.” She answered, feeling her body grow heavy once more and her eyes closing on their own accord. 

“You should get more sleep, you deserve it.” She said, tucking the brunette in the covers. 

Alexia grabbed her phone and a large t-shirt and left the bedroom, but not before checking back to the photographer, who had already drifted back to sleep. 

The Arsenal girls knew that there was no way Rosalie would be able to get up at the same time as them today. They knew how demanding the day before was and were glad to know the brunette was finally relaxing. The were all gathered aroud a little table in a coffee shop near Steph’s hotel, along with Lucy and Keira,when all hell broke loose.

Beth was the first to see the pictures. It was hard not to, they were circulating online at record speed. She first passed the phone to Leah, who was the one closest to her. It was the England captain's expression that caught Lucy’s attention. She saw her features go from shock to anger in the space of a few seconds. Then, it was the look in her eyes, like she was ready to end someone’s life right there and then. One look and the phone was passed to the older brunette. 

The first one was of the club. It had been taken from the bar where the person had a clear view of the dancefloor. You could see the team dancing and having fun, but in the far corner, There was Alexia, with a very recognizable expression, dragging a clueless Rosalie to the confines of the club bathroom. Anyone could guess that this was not a normal gals chat waiting to happen. The second one was of them exiting the club. Clearly disheveled and in a hurry. Force was to admit that these two could have been taken by any paparazzi or fan present that night.

But the others. Those were worrying. One was taken from a high point of view and panned down to the pitch where Alexia was standing very close to Rosalie, her hand on her hips and smiling down at the brunette. The other was of them, behind the tent the day before. The person had caught them kissing, arms wrapped around each other. The next one was the same settings, probably a few seconds after and showed them both smiling like idiots. Lucy took a second to really look at it. They looked happy and it warmed her heart to see it but soon enough, the reason she had these pictures ignited her anger again. 

The last one was the one that worried her the most. It was of Rosalie and Alexia walking up to an apartment complex. One Lucy knew well. This person had knowingly or not, divulged Alexia's address on social media.  

Lucy stood up abruptly and pulled out her own phone for her pocket. She prayed that the two women were still wrapped in their little bubble, too caught up in each other to check their phones. 

Her first call was to Marcello. She wanted to know who had posted these. Turns out, the new head of social media was already on the case. Then her finger hovered on her captain’s contact name. She knew that when it came to her private life, Alexia became fiercely protective. So she decided that it would be better if Alexia was coaxed into the news rather than discovered it like the last time. 

She waited for the woman to pick up, and at the moment she was about to give up, the line opened and all she could hear were rapid spanish cursing and loud clattering. “Alexia?”

“Aye, mierda, un momento Lucia.” she heard far away as more clattering followed by a string of very colourful words. 

“Ok ok, que quieres?” The poor blonde sounded overwhelmed. 

“What in the world are you doing Ale?”

“Burning breakfast.” Her answer followed by the sound of plates clattering. 

“Ok ok is Rosie still knocked out?” An awkward silence followed her question and Lucy cringed internally. “Don’t answer that. Have you been on your socials today?”

“No, why?” The silence that followed sent a chill in Alexia’s veins. She put the English woman on speaker and opened instagram. Lucy simply waited, listening to the blonde’s breathing in the speaker. She allowed her the time to process all this, and only spoke when she heard the sound of a chair being pulled and a long exhale on the other side of the line. 

“Ale?”

“Who.” That single word was laced with so much anger, it surprised the older woman. 

“We don’t know yet. Marcello is looking into it.” Another silence. 

“Did you see the comments?” Alexia asked, her voice cold and deadly. Lucy paused. She had not thought about that before and a ball dropped in her stomach. She had an idea of what exactly she would find if she was to scroll down the comment section and the thought alone drove her mad. 

“Lucy there’s people outside.” Alexia said. Looking out her window and seeing a bunch of people with cameras on her street.

“Ok you need to call management now Alexia. And please, this is going to be hell for her too…” Lucy started, but was cut off by the blonde. 

“Si, I know, do not worry.” She said, hanging up after. 

It took another hour for the Brunette to wake up. She threw on  an oversized Barcelona t-shirt she found laying on the dresser and made her way down the stairs. By then, Alexia had managed to get a hold of the disastrous breakfast situation and was sitting at the kitchen island. There was soft music playing in the background and everything was set up for a relaxing breakfast, and yet the atmosphere felt extremely tense. Rosalie could see the tension in Alexia’s posture and the way her shoulders rose then fell in rhythm with each shaky breath. 

It was like being splashed with cold water. Rosalie froze only a few feet from the captain, who seemed to sense her presence and pivoted on her stool. Her wild gaze seemed to soften at the sight of the photographer, but hardened once more at the sound of her phone buzzing on the counter. 

« What’s… what’s going on Alexia? » Rosalie asked, stuttering a little. 

“Where is your phone?” Alexia asked quickly. 

“I don’t know. It’s probably still in my bag, I didn’t take it out when we arrived.” Rosalie answered, confused about the question.

 “Why? Did someone try to reach me? Is everything ok?” She asked, panic starting to rise and making her words stumble out rapidly. 

Alexia stood up. She could see that her state was affecting the photographer. She made her way to the smaller woman and took her hands in hers. They had started shaking and shiny green orbs were piercing through her, waiting for an explanation. 

“Someone put some pictures of us online.” She said softly, as if her gentle voice could erase the message it had to convey. “They stalked us and caught us together. They even posted pictures of the front of my apartment.”

Only now did Rosalie register the noise coming from the opened window in the living room. She made a move to go see but Alexia didn’t let go of her hands and pulled her closer to her. “No no no Rosalia please listen to me.”

Rosalie’s breathing was quickening. In Such a short time, her privacy had been invaded twice. Plastering on the wall her life and shattering once again the fruits of her healing. She had already come so close to losing this connection with the captain and now once again, she was being thrusted into the spotlight against her will.

She could not stand to be this close to the woman she was sure would hate her again. She tried to pry away from her grip and put some distance between the two but strong hands kept her still.

 “Rosalia look at me” The words were muffled by the ringing in her ears, which seemed to intensify with every second. Her eyes were flying around the room without being able to focus on anything. She could feel herself slip into a state of panic, the feeling overpowering her. 

“ I’m… I’m sorry so… Merde… Je suis d��solé Alexia please I’m…” words were stumbling out and she simply had no control over her own reaction. She was rapidly spiraling when warm hands connected with her cheeks. 

“Rosalie, breathe with me please.” Alexia took a long inhale and held it in for a second before letting go. Rosalie tried but it felt like something was constricting her chest and keeping her from breathing in. Alexia brought her hand up to her chest and laid her own on the photographer’s. “Here, can you feel me? I can feel you Rosalia, I am here with you. I am not going anywhere.”

She focused on the rise and fall of the footballer’s chest. A steady beat that grounded her and slowly brought her back in the present. Alexia stayed still allowing the photographer the time she needed. Time she herself needed to wrap her head around their situation. 

Rosalie’s forehead had, at some point, landed on Alexia’s shoulder. All her senses were flooded by the blonde’s presence and her words were slowly registering in her mind. They didn’t know how long they stayed in this position but when Rosalie finally moved, her limbs felt stiff and sore. Her gaze travelled up and reached Alexia’s own. “ Do you mean that?”

“Si, preciosa, I am not going anywhere, it’ll be ok.”

They spend the day on the sofa. Rosalie watched bad reality shows and documentaries while Alexia was, as always, studying their opponent’s previous games before their next champion league meet. Everytime one of their phones would light up, they tensed and waited a second before reaching for the device. Alexia and Lucy had kept in touch during the day but nothing new had come from their little investigation. Just like the first time, it was agreed that a meeting with the concerned parties and management would be held the next day and this time, Alexia was determined to have better results than before. 

[starberry-cupcake]

I could have just gone ahead and finished the book, but I adult life is interrupting so I stopped mid-fight and that's what you're getting, since I think it'll be a more sensible length this way.

previously, in gideon the ninth

this happened (also, this is the tag for all of the stuff)

currently, somewhere before ending the penultimate chapter, I think:

WELL, WELL, WELL

GUESS WHO WAS RIGHT ABOUT DULCINEA DEL TOBOSO SORAYA MONTENEGRO SEPTIMUS

I GOT YOU, BITCH

YOU DIDN'T GET PAST ME

ok, let's back it up a bit, but I needed to get that out of my chest for a sec

out of my guts, like the key she hid in the 5th necro bride's body

(too soon)

anyway, after yandere simulator w/inner chad left the room, gideon, harrowbean and my qp wife realized palmolive was gone

and everyone knows where he went because his dick has been a compass the whole time

or, like gideon puts it, he's been a weenie

camilla, the light in the dark, the sun to my moon, tells gideon and harrow that palmolive has been corresponding with dulcinea since he was like 8 and she was like 15 and he's been in love with her the whole time

and that he's made his lifelong purpose to save her life

there are many levels of Issues here

but at this point, we don't have time to unpack any suitcases

all this just proves to me that camilla has been carrying all the weight of the world on her shoulders even more, but anyway

they also feel confused as to why dulcinea has been ghosting palmolive massively since HE PROPOSED TO HER

palmolive, my man, my dude, just...what the fuck is your life

what are you doing, my guy

anyway, I immediately started thinking some soul possessing or some stuff like that could be going on, like she's not herself, but there's no time to theorize much

gideon feels terrible because she's been flirting with dulcinea in front of palmolive's salad all along and says something like "why do I have to be so attractive?" to which harrow answers something like "if you weren't, people would deck you after 5 minutes" which is a very good read

so gideon goes to find palmolive and he stops her with necro magic and enters dulcinea's room and outs her as the murderer

who is surprised??? not me, of course

so, basically, ducinea The Real One died at some point before arriving like protozoa, and this bitch here is a previous lyctor whose name I cannot remember so we will call her not!dulcinea

the real dulcinea was the other roasted body in the furnace

and protozoa was killed by her also which, again, the sword through the heart was a good indicator it wasn't an accident, but harrow was the only one who saw the body

non!dulcinea is a lyctor of the seventh that served the emperor and did the soul slurping thingy and already has her cav within her ("inside her" sounds...not great)

and she wanted to stir some shit up to get the man of the hour to show up and get revenge and whatnot

the emperor, coming back to canaan house from some holidays that took longer than he expected

it's not totally clear, because there's still a lot we don't know, but it sounds a bit like a toxic relationship with an authority figure

palmolive then proceeds to immolate himself like superman going super solar flare, but not being able to heal himself after, unlike superman

after that, all hell breaks loose

not!dulcinea tries to kill gideon

camilla tries to kill not!dulcinea

harrow also enters the fight and brings gideon's sword

like, the real one

you can hear the audience cheering when she catches her sword like it was filmed in front of a live studio audience

gideon and harrow team up against the mega massive monster junji ito concoction that killed isaac

they do the mind mesh thingy

harrow unlocks a new power

like in the sims

she also passes out for a bit

gideon gets her knee and shoulder fucked up

camilla is amazing and does amazing things

non!dulcinea seems to be too tough to win against

yandere simulator twin w/inner chad enters the chat

they fight like goku and vegeta for a while but non!dulcinea ends up using her like a battery

which is, to me, the revenge of duracell bunny nephew from beyond the veil or wherever he went

like, poetic cinema fate

I have no idea where regina george twin is at this point

last we saw of her, she was crying in a corner

which, mood tbh

so, where I left off for now, we've got three survivors accounted for: gideon, harrowbean and my qp wife, there's a lost twin somewhere in there and then there's yandere simulator twin being used as a charging pad by non!dulcinea

I want to take a moment to point out something, though

I want to briefly point out how MASSIVELY FUCKED UP EVERYONE WAS COMING INTO THIS

like, harrow was "oh no, we mustn't let people know you're not actually my cavalier and that I puppeteered my parents and that there's a frozen barbie in the ninth" and gideon was "oh no, I mustn't let people know I'm not a ninth cav and I don't use a rapier and I have a complicated relationship with my necro"

and everyone else LITERALLY EVERYONE ELSE WAS BEYOND FUCKED UP

maybe the second weren't because they were ignorant asshats, but EVERYONE WAS MESSED UP

NOBODY HERE WAS FINE

you got the third, with a non necro princess and a feral real necro doing the work of both and chad as their support, look how that turned out so far

the fourth, who weren't tall enough to reach the top shelf and weren't even allowed their keys

the fifth who knew too much so they were goners after throwing a party

the sixth, with a guy who had the hots for a woman twice his age that he had a grey's anatomy fantasy to save that powered his entire reason to be there (and a cav who didn't use the right equipment but is great 10/10 no notes)

the seventh, who's THIS MESS

and the eight, who were doing the creepiest thing possible at all times and couldn't even do it properly

the only ones here who came in without dirty laundry were the second and that's why they were easy targets

everyone else was shady af

the best reality show you've ever watched

anyway, see you for the next one when we'll know who wins between one old lyctor and 3 bad bitches (or 4, if yandere twin is still alive, or 5 if regina george twin shows up again)

[reveluving]

if the skirt fits ; andy barber x reader

summary: Andy finds a little secret of yours.

warnings: heavily implied s~mut; costume kink (minors DNI!), familial fluff & mild humour!

a/n: you don't know how happy I am for finally sharing this piece with y'all, considering how it has been collecting dust in my drafts since LAST YEAR, but here it is; one of my earliest ideas for the series! don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out my m.list for 'reve's quirky reverie 🕷️'!

“It fits you perfectly,” He purred, almost deep in thought—probably in his own fantasy, “So perfectly.” ;

"You could dress up as Jason?" You suggested what might’ve been the seventh costume idea since the drive home from dinner at the Thai restaurant nearby. 

"Done that." Jacob replied as he leaned forward from his seat to talk to you and his father.

"Spiderman?" 

"I feel like everyone's dressing up as Spiderman this year." 

"But not everyone's going to dress up as the same one." You had a point, considering how you and his dad were the first victims of his Spiderverse fixation since the second movie was released, so you knew what you were talking about.

"I guess,” Jacob thought for a moment before falling back in his seat, taking your idea into consideration, “I guess I just want something… different." 

"If you want different, then we could get you one of those inflatable dinosaur costumes on the internet." Andy held a playful look even as his eyes remained on the road.

"Very funny, dad." His son grumbled, despite fighting back his own smile.

"Aw, cheer up, Jake. You've got time." You reassured him. 

“Yeah… And I’m not too worried. The store next to Aunt Sarah’s bakery got some cool stuff when I bought last year’s costume,” Jacob mused before asking you, "What about you, mom? Have you thought of a costume yet?" 

Ah, mom. Even after all this time, you and Andy will never get tired of him calling you that.

"Mmm, not yet. But when I do, I'll make sure you're the first to know." You and Jacob shared a smile in the rear-view mirror, only to be interrupted by Andy clearing his throat.

"Uh, you're gonna tell him first and not me?" He cocked his head, feigning disbelief.

"Of course. You lost that privilege when you suggested Jake the dinosaur costume." You and Jacob laughed as Andy dramatically groaned, telling you ‘I didn’t mean it’ in an angsty teenager tone.

"I am not dressing up Ken." Andy answered, removing his watch and leaving it on the vanity table.

"Oh, c'mon, Cowboy Barber has a nice ring to it." You said with a lilt. 

"And where exactly am I going to find a Western shirt in my size?" He quirked an eyebrow at you.

"We could always ask the Flags. Her husband might have one hidden somewhere."

"Just because we've seen him with a cowboy hat last Halloween?" He remembered seeing him wearing one during the community party at the park.

"You'd never know. Barbie and Ken are safer than your recommendation." You opened the closet without taking your accusatory eyes off him.

"What's wrong with a devil and an angel?" 

"Andy." Surely he could tell how ridiculous he sounded. 

"It's… easy…? And you'd look really good in it." He tried to persuade you, standing next to you.

"At a party full of kids?" You weren't sure how the parents that were a little more… conservative would feel about their kids' teacher dressing up like that.

"I didn't say it was for Wilson's party. It's for our afterparty," He wiggled his brows, "Just you and me while Jake stays over at the Wilson's." 

You snorted. How cheesy of him.

"Wilson's party first, then whatever you want after," You turned back to the hanging clothes, "And besides, you should be the devil, not me." 

That wasn't a no.

"You know what," He pursed his lips, already considering your idea—especially with the black suit he knew you'd melt over, plus a red tie before dodging the swat of your hand with a laugh. Just then, he noticed you'd been searching for something for a while, unbuttoning his cuffs and folding his sleeves before asking, “Need some help?”

“I can’t find my panties. The baby blue ones.” You frowned.

“The one with the lace?” He asked, prompting you to nod, “I mean, as much as I love seeing you in those, you know I don’t mind you without any in the first place.”

“Nice try, Barber," You narrowed your eyes at him, gesturing to the drawers in front of him before you rummaged through the pile of folded clothes on the bottom rack, “Help me search the drawers, please.”

He did as he was told, looking through the first stack before moving on to the next.

There was little progress in your searches but your curiosity was only piqued when out of the corner of your eye, Andy was looking closely at something.

“Did you find it?”

He took a quick breath before answering, “No, but I did find something better.” 

You furrowed your brows, standing up to ask what he meant by that until you caught sight of the familiar skirt he held.

Plaid, grey and extremely short.

Uh oh.

You clasped your hands together in front of your tummy as you stared at the microskirt with wide eyes. You were even failing to notice him slowly breaking into a smirk. He didn’t stop there, reaching into the drawer he was looking into with his other hand to take out the matching tie. Your lips parted, darting your eyes between the article of clothing and the smug look on his face.

“I can explain,” You finally spoke up, your voice softer than you hoped for.

“Please, do,” He held the ends of the untied tie with both hands, “Because I’m pretty sure these are too small to be mine.”

Oh, he was going to have some fun with this.

“Well, it’s, y’know,” You moved your hands around, only to silently plea for him to understand without having you say it, “Andy, c’mon. You know what it is.”

It wasn’t enough for him, though, raising his brows and encouraging you to continue. 

He was clearly enjoying this. A whole lot. 

Unbelievable.

“It’s my old costume.”

He hummed, appraising the garment as he immediately imagined what you would look like in it, “So my pretty girl has a dirty secret of her own. Did you break any necks when you pranced around the neighbourhood in this?” 

“In my defence, I only wore that once, when I was in college, so,” You corrected him, recalling the party you attended in your final year. 

“So, you broke college boys’ necks.” 

“I didn’t say that,” You shook your head in amusement, “I just didn’t have the heart to give it away. It was just one of those rare times where I truly enjoyed living in the city.” 

Though the city wasn’t far from Reve Road, and hell, you’ve even thought about moving back once or twice in your earlier days, truthfully, you haven’t been there in ages, and thank goodness, too. What would life be like if you hadn’t stayed, made a name in the peaceful neighbourhood and met the Barbers?

"Do you miss it?" 

"Sometimes," You mustered a small smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes, "But I had my fun. Grew up to be a city girl, earned my degree and let out my ‘wilder’ side a couple of times. But I love it here more, and if I want to keep my job, the last thing my students and my son need to see when they go trick-or-treating is their Literature teacher in this." 

You shared a hearty laugh. Your wonders about who or what you could’ve been if you stayed in the city were nothing more than a mere curiosity, and even then, it hardly mattered to you now.

“Wouldn’t hurt to relive the old days here in our room.” Oh?

"You can't be serious," You chuckled nervously, "It might not even fit." 

You were lying—you barely looked any different from your college years. You just weren’t sure if you were ready to see his reaction over such scandalous attire.

"All the more reason to try it," He replied confidently, closing the gap between the two of you. His voice deepened as he whispered, "C’mon. You can be a good girl for me, can’t you?" 

Like the gentleman he was, he used your weakness against you.

You knew you were done for when you gulped under his intense stare, cocking his head in the bathroom’s direction. 

You snatched the garments out of his grasp, the ‘deathly’ glare on your face contrasted with his conceited one as you obtained the shirt that came with it out of the same drawer. He continued to hold your gaze even as you closed the door.

Once you were alone, you couldn’t help but let out a silent scream.

You were too embarrassed to even face the mirror as you got dressed, not until you slid on the last piece—the skirt before turning around to look at yourself. You could barely acknowledge the coincidence of covering your face with your hands like a bumbling schoolgirl.

Because that was exactly what you looked like.

You remembered washing the set a couple of times after your first and only wear, and even then, you didn’t think the skirt could shrink that little. Your ass was hanging out of the hem, offering an ample peek at the black bikini brief you had taken with you. 

You came out of the bathroom, ignoring the warmth spreading through your body as you were met with Andy sitting at his side of the bed, shamelessly displaying the prominent tent bulging in his pants.

He hummed in approval before beckoning you to his lap, "Come here." 

You kept your gaze on the ground as you walked over to him, standing in between his legs.

"Come here." He repeated, this time, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he tapped his knee.

You let out the softest whimper, your arms encircling his neck before straddling one of his thick thighs. He rested his hands on your hips, only to run them up and down your body, watching your face already contorting between bashfulness and desire.

“It fits you perfectly,” He purred, almost deep in thought—probably in his own fantasy, “So perfectly.” 

He pulled you closer, bouncing his knee to rub against your clothed sex. Electricity coursed through your body over the not-so-innocent move, your breathing growing heavier by the second as he teased you further.

“But you haven’t answered my question yet. Did they or did they not stare at you when you wore this?”

He rendered you speechless. You were beginning to think your heart might burst out of your chest at any point. 

“I’m sure they did,” A part of him wanted to be annoyed but miffed was a better way to put it. Not at you, though, he could never. You were just trying to have fun and make the most out of what life had to offer. But if he was there to see you in this the first time you had it, likely showing your wilder side, oh, he couldn’t lie and say you wouldn’t catch his eye either. 

“But I guess that doesn’t matter anymore,” His hands slid past the hem, lifting it for him to drink in the sight of your curves, “It’s just you and me now.”

You dropped your head on his shoulder, hoping to stifle the moan that threatened to slip past your lips.

“Just imagine me bending you over the bed so I can get a peak of what’s mine underneath,” He sighed dreamily, smiling when your ass jiggled as he grabbed at and squeezed them, “Or should I throw you on the bed and have you on your knees?”

You didn’t answer, too focused on the way he groped your body until you jumped at the resounding crack and the sting that came with it on your left cheek.

"Does it come with thigh highs?" He asked ever so casually as if he wasn’t straining to have you just as much as you were him.

"I-It did, but… I kinda lost it." 

"That's fine. I can always get you a new one," He nosed your jaw, "In fact, I'll buy you more than just a pair. Maybe match some with your panties." 

You mewled, raising your head and granting him access to your neck. 

“You'd do everything your favourite professor tells you to do, wouldn’t you?” 

Fuck.

“Andy, I–” You nearly called him Professor Barber when the sounds of knocking on your door caused you and your husband to freeze up.

"Mom, dad,” It was Jacob, “I think Beemo's been collecting… socks under the couch?" 

Like a fish out of water, your mind was too blank to respond or even acknowledge the question. Thankfully, Andy was able to do it for you, “We’ll be right there!”

The two of you waited until his footsteps receded before you were able to let out a sigh of relief. Andy, on the other hand, had the audacity to chuckle at you. There was no reason for you to worry about scarring Jacob since Andy had already locked the door.

“Very funny.” You murmured sarcastically, moving off him and loosening the tie, hoping to ignore the ache in between your legs for the time being.

“Hilarious,” He cockily added, standing up with an almost pained groan. He stood behind you before wrapping his arms around your waist, “But this isn’t over.”

You stopped.

“I meant what I said about buying you thigh highs with it. Or better yet, some fishnets because my wife’s not so innocent after all.”

Despite getting cockblocked, he was immensely satisfied to see you shiver.

‘Beemo, are you collecting underwear too?’ You heard Jacob ask the cat incredulously, only for a ‘wait!’, followed by his footsteps going down the stairs, probably chasing the feline with whoever’s briefs or undies he had in his mouth. You could only hope it wasn’t yours.

“And, that’s our cue,” His shoulders slumped, only to growl in your ear, “Wear this for me tomorrow after dinner.” 

He then released you with a big smooch on your cheek, exiting the room to find his son, but not before winking at you.

Leaving you to wonder on your own if he’d throw you on the bed or have you on his lap tomorrow.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» a/n: now is a good time to say; no, I have yet to come back to the series, but I was too stoked about this event and thought 'hey, this should be the best time!'

» consider it as a mini compensation! but I do want to thank you for still sticking around, just know 'future mrs barber' is nowhere near discontinuing! ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[quibbler-quirks]

Perfect Imperfections - Ominis x fem!Reader

Summary: Ominis asks MC to the Yule Ball. Or at least that was his plan.

Word count: 1.5k

Tags/warnings: she/her pronouns, a little bit of angst, assumed Triwizard Champion MC

A/N: Thank you for all of the love for my first post! I am truly not a writer, but Ominis has been bringing me lots of comfort. Just a little scenario I thought of~ I hope you enjoy!

-------

It was a terrible misunderstanding really.

Upon the end of her fifth year, MC had thought she had seen all the wizarding world had to offer. Magical prowess beyond her wildest dreams, a goblet of flames spitting out perfectly unburnt paper, and friends that seemed to transcend consequence. That is why strolling into the Transfiguration Courtyard as silent snowflakes fell from the sky, she could not understand why the pale hands of a certain Ominis Gaunt were in the hands of a particularly bubbly Anne Sallow.

It was not as if Ominis and MC were officially courting, but MC had thought after what had happened in their fifth year, they truly had a chance to become friends in their sixth and seemingly more in their seventh.

In her unoccupied hand, Anne held a beautiful bouquet of white roses and snowdrops, sprinkled with opulent green ferns and frosted holly berries. The perfect bouquet to ask someone to the Yule Ball with and with sudden clarity, it all made sense. Ominis had invited Anne to the Ball and not herself. Of course, nothing could triumph a childhood love, especially not after going through extreme measures to find a cure for Anne. MC knew Ominis had cared deeply for Anne throughout their search, but she felt embarrassed by her own ignorance realizing his care was out of love for the Sallow twin. 

With the sight of the bouquet blurring, MC continued hastily through the courtyard into the Defence Against the Dark Arts Tower, hoping no one could see the tears that welled in her eyes.

-------

“Bombarda!” a barrel explodes into splinters.

“Confringo!” a suit of armour topples to the ground.

How could she have been so blind? So selfish? While her feelings for the Gaunt boy had blossomed, it did not mean his feelings had done the same. Frustrated between being happy for her friends and heartbroken, MC lashed out spell after spell, aiming at particularly nowhere. The Undercroft was alight with flashes of colours as if someone had set off fireworks. She should be happy for them. Both were such kind souls and had helped each other through thick and thin, but thoughts of how well they matched did not comfort her. Besides, she had bigger things to worry about.

Continuing to bellow out spells, MC did not notice Sebastian had been watching her for some time, unsure of how to stop her. 

Suddenly, the gates of the Undercroft were once again creaking open, but MC’s shouts deafened her senses.

“MC?” called out Ominis.

“She’s been at it for centuries,” Sebastian remarks. “I can’t seem to get her to calm down.”

“What did you do?”

“Why do you always assume it was me?”

“Because it is always you, Sebastian,” Ominis grunts, “if it was not you, then what happened?”

“That… is a fair point,” Sebastian admits in defeat. “I’m not sure, I just know she has been like this since I got here. Practicing for the next challenge maybe? You can give it a go, but I’m going to find somewhere else to read. Good luck.”

The room felt a lot emptier since Ominis had last been there. Hearing Sebastian’s footsteps fade up the stairs, Ominis could also hear just how sharply the spells echoed off of the Undercroft’s stone walls. As if none of the crates and barrels he knew to be placed there existed at all. 

“I’m sorry love,” he whispers, directing his wand to the voice of MC. “Arresto momentum.”

Time suddenly stops for MC and her mouth fails to produce another coherent word.

“Reparo!”

The shattered state of the Undercroft begins to repair itself as Ominis carefully strolls over to MC, bringing down her arms and tucking her body into his chest. He could feel her wet tears seep through his wool jumper. Just how much had she been crying?

“What did you do?” the voice of Anne Sallow shrieks.

“Again, why does everyone always assume it was me!” Sebastian retaliates as the twins reappear at the base of the Undercroft.

Slightly embarrassed his childhood friends might have seen him holding their mutual friend quite intimately, Ominis jumps away, a blush rising to his ears. 

Seeing the tears falling down her best friend’s face, Anne rushes over to MC, bouquet forgotten on the floor, ready to embrace her. “What did my oaf of a brother do this time?”

Suddenly processing the other people present in the Undercroft, MC wipes her tears and tries to compose herself. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you come in! Don’t worry, Sebastian didn’t do anything… this time… that I know of...”

“Hey-” Sebastian starts.

“Never mind him then. My brother said you were crying as he was coming out of the Undercroft. Is everything okay, MC?”

“Yes, no worries! I’m sorry for worrying you! I was just, erm, worried about the upcoming challenge? Lots to practice I’m afraid”

“That’s bullocks,” Sebastian scoffs, “the Second Task isn’t for another two months! You’ll be fine.”

“Well, something must be on your mind,” Anne says, voice laced with concern.

“Maybe it’s just the Triwizard Tournament in general! There’s so much going on! Seriously, Anne, I’m fitter than a Fwooper! I just came from Professor Weasley’s office and I suppose the pressure really got to me,” MC forces a smile, eyes dropping to the fallen bouquet that lay near Ominis’ feet. “Besides, we have the holidays and the Ball to look forward to! We still have to go shopping for your dress, Anne! Even if our dear friend can’t see how stunning you will look, I think it will still be nice to dress up,” she continues to ramble on, gaze unmoving from the bouquet.

Slowly putting together the puzzle pieces, Anne gasps and steps back from MC in shock. Looking at the fallen bouquet, the Gaunt boy’s red ears, then her friend’s tear-stained face, she realizes MC must have seen her and Ominis in the courtyard on her way to the Undercroft. It really was a terrible misunderstanding.

“You, Gaunt, have some fixing to do,” pointing at the poor boy despite his lack of sight. She huffs over, picking up and shoving the bouquet into his arms.

“What did I do?” he pleads, genuinely concerned.

“Yeah! Why do you always assume it’s us?” Sebastian cries out again.

“Boys…” Anne mutters, dragging her brother back up the stairs past the gate. “I think you have something important to address.”

And with a final grit of her teeth, the Sallow twins disappear back into the tower, leaving a baffled MC and an even more confused Ominis.

Feeling the leaves of the once pristine bouquet tickle his chin, Ominis searches his mind for any reason Anne would ruin the surprise he had prepared.

“That really is a lovely bouquet. Anne is very lucky,” MC breaks the silence.

Oh… Oh! Cursing under his breath, Ominis finally understands what Anne had meant. Oh, this was not going according to plan at all.

Eyes opened wide and stammering over his words, Ominis speaks, “No! No, you are mistaken! These aren’t for Anne! Why would I give such a thing to Anne? A bouquet? That’s ridiculous. Not that bouquets are ridiculous or that I wouldn’t give anything to Anne..” Taking a deep breath, he finishes, “This was meant for you.”

Slightly shocked, MC starts, “But I saw you and Anne in the courtyard and I thought–”

“These were meant for you! I mean, these are for you, love.”

“I don’t think I’m quite following.”

Ominis approaches her carefully, reaching out for her hands and gently placing the bouquet in them. “I am asking you if I could have the honour of accompanying you to the Yule Ball.”

MC’s jaw drops in shock. Too stunned to say anything.

“That is if you are not already going with someone. I know it is rather late of me to ask, but I had this whole thing planned where I was going to–”

Then suddenly his words are cut off by the feeling of lips pressed against his. It is short and it is sweet. It is clumsy but evidently full of love. Everything a first kiss could ever be.

Breaking the contact, MC steps back, clutching the bouquet in her arms. “Wow, what a mess and a fool I am… I didn’t think you were going to ask. I would love that very much, Ominis.”

Smiling and reaching out to place his hands on top of MC’s, Ominis chuckles, “What a mess indeed. I apologize for all of the trouble I have caused. Anne actually was the one helping me pick out the flowers for you. I wanted them to be even a fraction as beautiful as you are, little dove.”

“They are perfect.”

“Not as perfect as you.”

-------

Bonus:

“OH! I UNDERSTAND NOW!” Sebastian shouts. “That sly dog! Took him long enough.”

“Boys…” Anne grumbles again, but holds back a smile as she watches Ominis and MC hand in hand walking across the courtyard where just moments before everything went astray.

[sp1rit-realm]

༻¨*:· 𝐈’𝐌 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ you have feelings for remus, he's dating someone else

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 implied that reader has a period 𖦹 fem!reader (she/her pronouns) 𖦹 a-a-a-angst 𖦹 sad 𖦹 unrequited love 𖦹 im sorry 𖦹 BIG THANKS TO @ay0nha FOR HELPING ME WITH THIS CONCEPT 𖦹 i did not proofread this bc i'm lazy ⎝(ˊᗜˋ)⎠

༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 736

Thalia giggles at something Remus said for the fifth time in ten minutes—that's one giggle every two minutes. You stare daggers at her as the sweet, sticky sound bubbles out her mouth like boiling water. Warm and soothing and everything your wheezing laughs weren't. 

Your eyes shoot to Sirius as he kicks your leg from beneath the table. "What?" You mouth with a harsh stare.

"You look like you're about to kill her," He mouths back with raised brows.

You only roll your eyes in return.

Somewhere between the seventh and the tenth giggle, you decide to leave. You can't bear seeing how Remus looks at her with such adoration.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"What was yesterday about?" Sirius asks at breakfast.

You feign innocence, "What are you talking about?"

"You looked like you were about to choke out goldie locks. Jealous she's spending time with Remus?" He suggests.

"Ha!" You bark out, "Jealous. What a funny concept. You know, Sirius, you should consider a comedy career."

But Sirius is not laughing—he's looking at you with those eyes you've seen far too many times now. You saw them when he asked if you cheated on your charms test when you were twelve. You saw them when he asked if you were an animagus when you were fifteen. You saw them when he asked if your date with that boy from Ravenclaw went well. You've seen them every time you've lied to him. You see them now.

"Fuck you," You mutter—he catches it anyway.

"Tell him."

"There's nothing to tell, Sirius."

He only shakes his head in return.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You feel a wave of sadness crash over you when you see Thalia at Remus's side once again. You're supposed to be there. That's your spot, you think.

Thalia looks to see who's entered the common room, and she flashes you a warm smile, waving her hand in a signal for you to sit with your friends.

You shake your head, and she raises an eyebrow in suspicion. You point to your stomach, "Period," You mouth. She nods in understanding.

Then, you catch Sirius's eye. He stares in disappointment as you walk away.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"Has anyone seen y/n?" Remus asks at breakfast—you've been avoiding him.

"I just saw her in the halls on the way here," Frank speaks up, "She said she was going to the library."

"I'm going to look for her." He stands up, then turns to Thalia, "See you soon, love." James pretends to throw up when he kisses her cheek.

"I just saw you being sweet on Evans, mate. Don't act all high and mighty," Sirius chips in.

But you're not in the library, and you're not at any of your usual spots.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

It's been days since Remus has spoken to you, and he's only growing more restless.

"Every time I see her, she runs away," He sighs.

"I'm sorry, my love," Thalia frowns, rubbing Remus's back.

"I'm gonna go for a smoke," He stands up and leaves the common room.

Remus goes to the courtyard—it's your guys' smoking place. He finds you there, head in your hands.

"Y/n?" He asks, and you look at him with shocked eyes, like the idea of him talking to you—seeing you—was preposterous.

"You're avoiding me," Remus says, finally cornering you.

"No, I'm not." You deny, standing up.

"Oh, come on, y/n. Do you think me that daft? I can tell you're avoiding me. Why?"

You take a deep breath, willing tears not to fall, "Because of her."

"Who?" 

'You're clueless,' You think.

"Thalia."

"What about her? You don't like her?"

And you can hear the fear in his voice—the fear that his best friend doesn't approve of the one he loves.

"She's amazing, Remus." Your voice wavers, and then it dawns on Remus. His face falls, and you know it's over.

"I'm sorry," He rushes out, "I'm so sorry."

And that's when the tears fall, "Don't be sorry, Remus."

"I'm sorry," He repeats, and you catch on to the look in his eyes. 

"Don't pity me, Remus."

"I don't!" He argues, "I'm just... I'm sorry."

"I wish you could love me," You whisper, looking into his eyes, heart breaking even more as you see their unshed tears.

"I do love you," He insists, "Just not in the way you need me to."

"Why?" You cry, "Why can't you just love me?"

"I— I wish I had a reason."

"It's okay, Remus."

"I'm sorry."

thank you so much for reading, lovely!

mutuals: @queerpumpkinnn @whenjasfallsinlove @woahlifehitsyahuh @ell0ra-br3kk3r @esperisdrunkinwonderland @remuslovebot @reysdriver @tired-of-lying-in-the-sunshine @thesunandstarss @inkluvs @prongsio @ay0nha @angry-little-frog @starlit-epiphany @starstruckwillows @starsval @whennyxfallsinlove @depressedbutartsy @dancinglikeaballerina @ghostlyfleur @hob1e-br0wn @justpjostufff @knaveism @lovers-tunnel @zvdvdlvr @vinniethepanini @vampieteeth @baker-coded @meredarling @maddipoof

[blindrapture]

OH GOD THE RAPTURE IS BURNING (Table of Contents)

While this book has many names and many people in it, all the events and opinions portrayed are fictitious. Some real names were used, with permission, but only for aesthetics’s sake. People often express confusion over some of the emoticons in the story. Most are self-explanatory, but just bear in mind that every one has eyes and a mouth. .w. has the periods as the eyes and the w is related to the "kittyface" of :3, with the former emoticon intended as an expression of humble happiness (something like "Aw, shucks!"). The < in <:D is intended as eyebrows, not a party hat, no matter who tells you otherwise. This story is long. The first draft was started in 2011 and continued until 2013, the second draft finished the story in 2013, the third and fourth drafts were refinements of the whole and came around 2014. The fifth draft added a lot more content, introducing an element you'll see as the "Attacheds," and this came in 2015. This formed the basis for the sixth draft in 2016, which was published on Amazon as the First Edition. That draft saw refinement and tweaking for several years (the seventh draft). What you are looking at now is the Second Edition, the eighth and final draft. The point of all this is: I have had many opportunities to change this story. I have taken many things out. The content and how it is treated will make you uneasy, somewhere, somewhen. It is best to read this story by yourself, where you can feel your emotions rawly and give them space. Privacy is a theme here. There are many more themes for you to discover. Good luck.

OVERTURE May 20 (Modern Invocation) May 21 (Title Drop From Red Sky)

ACT I May 23 (Donnie) May 24 (The Pillar) May 25 ("world with empty eye sockets") May 26 (Aubade feat. Mistress Dread) May 27 (In Blackpool) May 28 (Cipher for a Million Years) May 29 (Everyone's Benefit) May 30 ("Cakes mean the party funds") May 31 (Tropes) June 1 (Kissing a Corpse) June 2 ("le bouffon blanc") June 3 (Great Dodongo of the Congo) June 4 (SLCEM) June 5 (Womp Womp) June 6 ("Doppelganger") June 7 (The Minotaur of Lloret de Mar) June 8 (Vorke, the Face Stealer) June 9 (Systematic Chaos) June 10 (Clearly Exaggerated) June 11 ("Promise you'll never?") June 12 (Donnie Goes to London) June 13 (missing) June 14 (There Were Strangers at the Birth of the Earth) June 15 ("How are human minds biggest") June 16 ("I'll kneel.") June 17 (Going Brazilian) June 18 (In the Name of Comcast...) June 19 ("ENGLAND'S THEIRS NOW") June 20 (Tally Marks) June 21 (Bad Jokes) June 22 (Classic Jokes) June 23 (Ten Years in Jail) June 24 (Tell Us Yourself) June 25 (Liverpool) June 26 ("Fears. There's the rub.") June 27 (Secret Friend) June 28 (The Fourth Rake of the Apocalypse) June 29 (Rael's Exodus, I: Start with the Pronouns) June 30 (Rael's Exodus, II: Indisen) July 1 (Rael's Exodus, III: Fear the Day) July 2 (Rael's Exodus, IV: EAT) July 3 (Rael's Exodus, V: The Anatomy of Everything) July 4 (Rael's Exodus, VI: Wishful Thinking)

ACT II July 5 (Duck and Cover) July 6 (American Anxiety) July 7 (Ciphers of the Blind Man's Book) July 8 (The God Machine) July 9 (School Bus) July 10 (Family Expression) July 11 (Sempiternity) July 12 (Grimaldi's Mad Language) July 13 ("Operation: Rise Against Fear") July 14 (Guy Fawkes) July 15 ("yes, quite nice") July 16 (Infinite Series) July 17 (The Grand Gtheru) July 18 (A Conversation with Tiresias) July 19 (More Tally Marks) July 20 ("red ochre corridors") July 21 (Who Once Ruled the Streetlights) July 22 (Walking) July 23 (Goodbye, Swamp Queen) July 24 (Sanctuary Francisco) July 25 (Avoidance) July 26 (See, the Thing is...) July 27 (Maybes and Mysteries) July 28 (Synecdoche) July 29 (Crotch Museum) July 30 (King Real) July 31 (Ground and Pound) August 1 (Don't Speak Its True Name, I: Peace) August 2 (Don't Speak Its True Name, II: Mirrors) August 3 (Don't Speak Its True Name, III: Colors) August 4 (Don't Speak Its True Name, IV: Music) August 5 (Don't Speak Its True Name, V: Dominiere) August 6 (Don't Speak Its True Name, VI: The Ghost) August 7 (Don't Speak Its True Name, VII: Friend)

POST WILL BE UPDATED WITH EVERY LOG

SEE THE WEBSITE VERSION FOR THE IDEAL READ

(and for bonus rambles talking about the creation of the story, see here)

[seriousbrat]

Do you find it difficult to write for Peter? I imagine it's hard to find the right balance in his characterization, especially considering people will be expecting him to be either totally useless and hated by the group or being totally equal and adored. I do think you do it very well though, he seems pretty realistic and in character imo

Ooh thank you so much for saying so! I really love this question.

The answer is sort of, sometimes! Honestly I don't find his voice difficult at all, I really enjoy writing him, but what I think can be a struggle with Peter is that he isn't a character that (initially) moves the plot along, compared to the others. He follows his friends, he trails behind, he's generally a passive character, so it's hard to give him active things to do within a story. I understand why people have a hard time knowing what to do with him, and either make him exit stage left during most scenes or just kind of eternally hover in the background lol. I know I've done that myself, and honestly, even though I think it was okay in part 2, it's part 3 where his arc really started to come together for me.

I'm obviously talking about the Hogwarts years here, since post-Hogwarts he has a pretty clear arc-- so during the Hogwarts years, it's all about setting up that arc, building up his motivations and foreshadowing his eventual betrayal. The way I see it he's already starting to do things that are basically small-scale versions of the betrayal, but because these actions are so minor they go completely unnoticed by the rest.

In my fic the first major turning point for Peter is during a Death Eater attack in their sixth year, when he turns into a rat and escapes, abandoning his friends who he knows are desperately trying to find him. This is never revealed to the rest of them, and Peter is at this early stage developing a habit of running from conflict and lying to his friends. During his seventh year he feels isolated from his friends and starts spending more time on his own as a rat, even failing to show up for his NEWT and lying about it later-- and in many ways that avoidance of real life is more comfortable for him. Obviously, the most extreme version of avoiding real-life consequences in this way is when he frames Sirius and then spends 12 years living as a rat.

He's terrified-- of losing his friends, of rejection, of failure, of the war-- and yet his fear is shameful to him, because cowardice is considered shameful by the in-group (Sirius and James) so he can't admit it to anyone or really face up to it. Instead he avoids it until it's too late, and then he avoids it some more by turning traitor and then by framing Sirius, then by running to Voldemort, etc etc until his death. It's almost like he's constantly in survival mode and always looking for a way out, while finding himself in situations that he feels are beyond his control but are really a result of his own avoidance.

Personally I did struggle a bit thinking of ways for Peter to move the story along or specific plot points for him during the Hogwarts years, basically ways to make him relevant, but overall I knew he was going to start unraveling early on. Peter's arc is initially very internal, nobody is ever aware of what's truly going on with him so unlike others it's difficult to tie his arc to the main plot-- but at the same time he's very observant, so he's a good vehicle through which to view other characters. He is constantly taking in information and thinking hard about that information, more than anyone else realises, which makes him a very good spy.

It can be difficult to find a balance with Peter though! As you mentioned, his standing in the group is tricky to get right, because it's somewhere between an idyllic, equal friendship and total rejection. They care about him, he is a member of their group, but they can also be disparaging, and they have no idea what's going on with him internally. They aren't consciously overlooking him, but he gets overlooked all the same. I don't think this kind of dynamic is that uncommon in real life tbh.

[myreia]

Desiderium

CHAPTER TWO: PROMENADE

Chapter Rating: Mature (full story Explicit) Characters: Aureia Malathar (WoL), Thancred Waters Pairings: Aureia/Thancred Chapter Words: 2,426 Notes: Set during early Endwalker, spoilers for the start of the expac. Summary: After arriving in Old Sharlayan, Aureia wants to see Thancred’s old haunts. He could not be happier to oblige, but his thoughts are occupied by something else entirely. Prompt: ii. hands | blush Chapters: one • two • three • four • five Read on AO3

The snow falls in earnest as they wind their way through the streets, the tall, marbled domes and columns white against the darkened sky. The more she sees, the more confused she is. It doesn’t feel right, this place—a city built of angles and symmetry and mathematical precision, as if it were from a different era, a different age. Its wide plazas and elegant fountains are more suited for a land of temperate weather like Terncliff, not the cold of the far north.

“Did you enjoy your sightseeing today?” he asks. “I’m sure Krile and G’raha were ecstatic to show you the sights.”

“I think I have found my bearings, yes,” she replies. “I didn’t expect to enjoy visiting the Studium, but it was worth it to see Alphinaud get swarmed. Quite the little celebrity, that one.”

“You shouldn’t tease the boy.”

“But he makes it so easy—”

“I think he has become the butt of a joke too many.”

“Alisaie agrees with me.”

“Alisaie is his sister. Of course she agrees with you.”

She blows out a puff of air in mock irritation and takes stock of their surroundings. They’ve climbed higher now and the city stretches out below them, the harbour transitioning into the Agora with precise fluidity. She squints, wondering if she can pick out Urianger’s familiar form walking about somewhere below. “It was good,” she says after a moment. “Hearing the stories, learning about everyone’s favourite haunts… I’d love to see more of them.”

She trails off, her tone more somber than intended. It used to bother her—years ago, when she first joined the Scions of the Seventh Dawn—that her companions were all united not only by their common goals, but by virtue of being Sharlayan. The one thing she couldn’t share in. Now she is here, of course she is reminded of that.

He squeezes her hand.

“It’s nice, I suppose,” she continues. “How recognizable everyone is. I’m glad they’ve been able to reconnect, truly.”

“Aye. But…?”

She shrugs. “It’s not important. I was wondering… Y’shtola and G’raha and even Urianger have been recognized right away. But you haven’t.”

“Ah. But I have.”

“When?”

“You haven’t been paying attention—”

She makes a face.

“—or you haven’t known what to look for. You do recall what I am an Archon of?”

“Even if I happened to forget—an impossibility at this point—you would remind me.”

“My master’s pupils will have no doubt spotted me immediately, even if they have not made their presence known. I am sure I will hear from them when they are ready. Or if I choose to seek them out myself.”

“Your master?”

“The man who taught me everything I know. Louisoix left me in his care.”

“I see.” This is the first she is hearing of it. Alphinaud and Alisaie’s grandfather was a great man, of that she has no doubt, but even great men have their flaws. Thancred still considers him his mentor, but to know that he was plucked from Limsa Lominsa, taken to another city and unloaded onto another… She isn’t sure how she feels about it. The topic of Louisoix is already difficult to broach, and a part of Thancred still idolizes him. They may never be ready to discuss him honestly. “Do you… want to see him?”

He throws his head back and laughs. “Of course! Whyever would I not?”

“I don’t know, you’ve never spoken of him. I was imagining someone like Matoya.”

“Seven hells, no. No one is like Matoya save Matoya herself—though I imagine Y’shtola may give her a run for her gil when she reaches the appropriate age. No, my master… He’s reclusive. Never been one to express himself well in person, especially when it comes to heartfelt sentiments. No doubt he knows I am here, but should I wish to see him I will have to solve a manner of riddles or some other nonsense to uncover a letter before he vanishes into the night. Though you should know he’s been known to disguise himself as everything from a gleaner to a painter to mysterious maidens. Any person we pass could be him and we would never know it.”

She sighs heavily. “…why am I not surprised?”

They press on, wandering higher and higher. The crowds fade the further they walk, the paths emptying until they are well and truly alone. It seems at this time of evening the city finds itself either down by the harbour, in their homes, or at the Studium.

“I did a pass through the city while you were occupied,” Thancred says, his tone turning grim. “Strange to see it abuzz with news that is not what newfound artefacts of interest the gleaners have brought back or what research is being pioneered or what debates are fresh in the Rostra. I suppose it’s human nature for curiosity to be piqued by idle gossip, but there is far too much focus on the twins’ disownment for my liking.”

“You knew people would talk.”

“That is not what concerns me. It is the focus on this and only this. It shines too bright of a light on the twins, and with the twins in our company it will make our movements all the more challenging…” He lets out an irritated sigh. “Do not ask me to understand the mind of a man like Fourchenault—gods know I never have and I never will—but Twelve damn him for this. Damn the Forum and damn their absurdity.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“I appreciate your optimism. One of us needs it.”

“And if we don’t, I’m sure I can come up with a few alternatives. How good are you at hiding bodies?”

He gives her a look. “Though I am inclined to agree with you, I certainly hope you are joking. You… are joking, yes?”

She pats his arm. “Don’t worry. I’m not contemplating murder. The assassination of a high-ranking member of a neutral nation is firmly off the table. Though I wouldn’t say no to punching that man in the face.”

“I assure you he deserves it. I’ve been itching to do the same since I was eight years old. Had a beautiful chance once but did not take it on account of not wanting to explain to Louisoix why the scrappy former street urchin was brawling with his delicate son.” He pauses, his lower lip curling. “What Ameliance sees in him I will never understand.”

Ameliance… The twins’ mother. She should have remembered that. Fourchenault mentioned her by name during their meeting in Gridania, but to Alphinaud and Alisaie she is simply called “Mother”. Admittedly, she is curious about her. The affection with which the twins discuss her rubs oddly against the way their father has treated them.

“What is she like?” she asks.

He raises an eyebrow. “Ameliance? A delight, if I’m quite honest. Bright and witty and fearlessly clever. I would caution getting on the wrong side of her.”

“Seems you admire her quite a bit.”

“I did. And I still do, I suppose.”

She chews her lower lip, admonishing herself for reading too much into the implications of that statement. Her mind is going places she would rather not think about. “I’ll look forward to an introduction—so long as Fourchenault doesn’t get in the way.”

“I doubt he will. Ameliance always was one to march to the beat of her own drum. If she wants to meet you, then meet you shall.”

They round a long walkway and cross a bridge, pausing at the apex. The river rushes below, its waters babbling in earnest as they flow out to sea.

“I forgot how long you’ve known him,” Aureia says after a moment. “Fourchenault, I mean.”

He chuckles. “Aye, most of my life, I suppose. I have never met a man so unlike his father. Then again, I am not the best candidate to judge, on account of never knowing mine.” His brow furrows, lost in thought. “Sharlayan will regard us in good favour while Krile’s ruse holds, but it may not last forever. Perhaps it is paranoid on my behalf, but until matters with the Forum are resolved, we are in enemy territory. Not everyone here is a friend, no matter how pleasant they are. And Sharlayan makes for a dangerous foe to have, even to its own kind.”

“I know.” She recalls Leveva Byrde and her grandfather, Mace, all too well—and how the latter was thrown in prison for departing the nation illegally.

“If this goes poorly… Y’shtola, Urianger, G’raha and I may be afforded some protection by virtue of our standing as Archons, but it will not extend to you and Estinien. Even if I declare you as my wife, you are not native here.”

“I can look after myself. And I would hardly worry about Estinien, do you really think Sharlayan can keep him grounded for more than a minute? The man can leap backwards out a window and land on his feet.”

“I am aware of that.” He exhales a sharp breath, disgruntled at her attempt at a joke. “Please understand I have cause for concern. G’raha and Y’shtola may be blinded by their invitations to browse the Noumenon once again, and Alphinaud and Alisaie are happy to be home despite the familial issues, but I am not so easily distracted. This may be home, but we cannot let down our guard. Do not underestimate how vicious the Sharlayans can be when given the chance. Stopping the Telophoroi is all that matters. We cannot allow politics and policy and godsdamned pride to interfere with that.”

He meets her eyes. There’s something boiling there—frustration borne from the fatiguing voyage, irritation with Sharlayan politics, his overprotective concern for her that has become second nature since she almost died of light-poisoning on the First. He has been so grounded since their marriage, casting off the shadow of the man he was before, that it has been a long time since she has sense the fury and bitterness that once encompassed him. But she sees it now—a flicker of it, simmering beneath the surface. His need to act now at odds with his orders to stay put and wait.

No wonder he wandered off to do reconnaissance in the city he knows inside and out. For the others, this is a homecoming. For him, this is just another job.

Aureia rests a hand against his cheek, refusing to look away. His frustration doesn’t intimidate her, she’s well-accustomed to it by now. And he is right, of course. She spent two moons preparing mentally for their arrival, only to have everything deflate the moment they stepped ashore and her first day here became a giddy sightseeing trip.

It wasn’t so long ago that the dark towers sprang up and they were fighting Lunar primals. To sit and wait, only to sit and wait some more is agonizing.

There is nothing she can say to soothe him, no words of wisdom she can offer. And so she kisses him, running her hands through his hair and hooking them around his neck as she pulls him into her. At the very least it can be a nice distraction, a way of diverting this anxious, pent-up energy from the voyage neither of them have been able to excise.

A hand presses against the small of her back. His lips part, hot and hungry, his kiss far fiercer than she would normally allow in public. Her breath hitches as his teeth scrape her lower lip, his tongue slipping into her mouth—he tastes of black tea, strong and bitter—and his hand moves further down her back, urgent and eager, as if he hasn’t kissed her in moons and he is desperate for relief. Which is true, in a way. The shared quarters on the ship meant they set aside certain activities for later.

Not a concern for her. If anything, she hardly gave it any thought, absorbed as she was in Alphinaud’s books and studying arcane theories. Some would consider their trip a dry spell, but such things have never bothered her. Sex is nice, but not a necessity. She could theoretically go through the rest of her life without it and be content.

But for him…  

The longing, the yearning, the frustration of certain needs not being met. For too long it has had nowhere to go. And now it needs to go somewhere.

She draws back, breathless and overwhelmed, and he presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, her jaw, the hollow of her throat. “Thancred…”

He kisses her in answer, sucking roughly at her skin. She winces, a blush blooming on her cheeks, the kiss pleasantly hard—the kind that may leave a mark if he’s not careful.

She’ll find out in the morning.

A low growl rumbles in the back of his throat. “Gods, Aur,” he murmurs. “I…”

His hand brushes her ass and her eyes fly open. She blinks, taking stock of where they are standing—here, out in the open, on this empty bridge, just out of the haze of the lamplight—and moves his hand away.

“Save this for later, yes?” she murmurs. “When we’re not so public…”

He holds her close, gently kissing her forehead. “Aye. My apologies, I forgot myself for a moment.”

She catches his eye and clears her throat. “You know,” she begins, slipping her hand into his. “I’m more than open to the idea of you forgetting yourself from time to time.”

“Is that so?”

“Two moons aboard a ship have done no one any favours. I for one am glad to no longer be sharing a cabin with Y’shtola and Urianger.”

“Aureia—”

“There’s time before we reconvene. I suppose we could even be late, if we wanted to. Y’shtola and G’raha certainly will be, though I suspect a date with dusty tomes is not as satisfying as a date with—”

He gives her a flat look, cutting her off. “You’re incorrigible when you want to be, you do know that, yes?”

She smirks. “I know.”

Thancred presses a hand to her face, his fingers trailing gently along her jaw to cup her chin. He tilts her head up, his gaze trained on hers, any irritation or frustration melted away at the promise of these new prospects.

“Come with me,” he says, his voice low. “You wanted to see our old haunts? Let me show you mine.”

A/N: Thancred’s ruminations on his Sharlayan mentor are inspired by an interesting little side quest you can pick up in Old Sharlayan. Following the right clues and figuring out the puzzle earns you a letter from his mentor and a couple other rewards. I didn’t know that messing with a random box on a bench was going to lead me to Thancred lore at the time, but I find it very funny that it did.

[needsmoresleepwrites]

Gift for leviyaperman: Katsuki isn’t sure what he did wrong today but surely he fucked up somewhere to end up in a situation like this. This being him and his boss in an elevator. Stuck. (ShinBaku, MHA)

Fuck you, Fuck me, Fuck it, Fuck today!

Read full on Ao3

tags: potty mouth company employee katsuki, composed CEO shinsou, sweat everywhere, stuck in an elevator, explicit (this post is M), undressing slowly

note: this was written as part of a gotcha 4 gaza. if you like mha the mha gotcha 4 gaza ( @myheroacademia-action ) is still taking donations (but may not be for too much longer) so get those donations and requests in soon!

i may or may not be doing more fics for this gotcha but if something keeps me up for days like this request... (hehehe)

p.s: i also used this post ( by @rarepairgremlin ) as inspiration for the title (and katsuki, hehe)

——————————————————————————

Katsuki isn’t sure what he did wrong today but surely he fucked up somewhere to end up in a situation like this. This being him and his boss in an elevator. Stuck. 

His day had started like any other day: wake up, go for a run, shower, and have breakfast. The only difference today had been the time he left his house. His department had gotten a new recruit this month and Katsuki had been saddled with his clumsy ass. While most of his mistakes had been simple things like making extra copies or stapling things incorrectly, the day before he’d really messed up. Deleting files messed up. And with Katsuki as the kid’s team leader, he’d had to clean up (and redo) all their hard work. 

Hard work that had taken them a month to do. 

Hard work that he had to redo in just a few days or risk losing contracts. 

That’s why he’d stayed late at the office the night before and come in early today. Early enough to walk into the elevator, turn around, and see his boss with his raised hand, asking him to hold the elevator. And Katsuki knew his place. He held the elevator doors open with a grunt. 

And now here they were. Stuck somewhere between the seventh and eighth floor. 

He grinds his teeth and his boss raises a brow, amused. Katsuki thinks that if he lets the work pile up on him, he’ll start to look like him. All frazzled and tired and looking like some mad scientist. An attractive mad scientist…

He bangs his fist against the elevator wall and growls out (very disrespectfully), “All this money and you can’t even make sure everything works properly?!”

It’s been at least 30 minutes since they called in the problem, but the mechanical voice of the receptionist had been unhurried, Remember proper protocol. Do not try to open the doors or climb out of the lift. We have already called for help. Please wait for further instructions. 

Which, shit, what’s the point of the help button if the receptionist has to call someone else for help too! 

His boss smiles, “I didn’t think I had to explain the power of nature to you, Bakugou. Or did you forget we’re in the middle of typhoon season?”

Typhoon season. Possibly the worst season of the year. And no, Katsuki didn’t forget. It was hard to forget when the humidity burrowed its way between the space of his skin and clothes, making everything feel two sizes smaller, and activated pores he knew he didn’t have half the year.

And this was his other problem. It would have been fine if they’d been stuck in say, December, but now? He could feel his sweat building up in his pits and back. 

His boss looks down at his phone and speaks absentmindedly. He’d taken off his suit jacket after he’d made the call and it was folded neatly over his briefcase, which was flat on the floor, “The light is still on and we were able to call for help, so it’s not a matter of a power outage…”

Which meant…

Katsuki’s voice was slightly strained when he said, “Something must have malfunctioned with the rain last night. They’ll have to call Elecplant and Izumo Tech.”

He gets a nod as confirmation. 

“Fuck me,” he mumbles, “I’m never going to get anything done today.” 

His boss loosens his tie with an amused smile, “Not exactly the words I’d use but yes, we’ll likely be here for a while.”

Katsuki scowls, “Fuck you. I’m not watching my tongue in this situation.” He pauses, then asks, “I’m getting paid for this, right?” Because it’s not Katsuki’s fault they’re stuck there. 

“Yes, though I’d suggest you decide who is getting fucked.” 

Katsuki blinks. His boss’s voice sounds a bit strained when he says fucked but did he… “Did you just…make a joke?”

It could be the heat or embarrassment, but Katsuki notices the redness in his boss’s face. He wipes his own face with his sleeve and grimaces. They’re both wearing white button-ups. 

His boss shrugs, leaning back against his side of the elevator. Katsuki mimics his posture and smirks, “You know…I could report you for sexual harassment.”

“I believe you started it.”

And Katsuki laughs. He unbuttons his shirt as well, “Are we pointing fingers now?”

“There isn’t much else we can do, is there?” 

He leaves the question hanging and it must be the stress of so many problems piling up, but Katsuki’s mind wanders when he looks at his boss. He licks his lips and watches the way his eyes follow his tongue. 

I can think of a few things, is left unsaid between them.

.

.

By the hour mark Katsuki has already unbuttoned his shirt and his tank top is a mess of sweat. He takes it off but instead of making him feel better, he feels even more uncomfortably sticky. The air is thick. His boss checks his watch and makes an annoyed sound. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Katsuki growls, “How the fuck do you think I feel? Like I’m in a damn sauna! Fuck today! I should have called in sick!”

His boss laughs. He’s unbuttoned his own top as well, but only about halfway down his chest. He’s also pushed up his sleeves because (as the CEO) he needs to keep up appearances. 

“I always thought you were the diligent type,” he says.

Katsuki scoffs, “I am. My whole department would fall apart without me.”

His boss is quiet for a moment and then says, his voice a mumble, “I can see why.”

And Katsuki likes it. The way his boss looks him over with approval.

.

.

Two hours. 

They stay glued to their respective sides for that long. It also takes Katsuki that long to decide that he doesn’t care about the camera in the elevator. He unbuckles his belt and pulls off his pants, “Fuck it!”

His boss chokes, “What are you- Don’t tell me you’re- Why? ”

And it’s only once he’s removed his stupid pants that he feels slightly better. But looking at his boss still in his button-up (now completely unbuttoned) is making him feel bothered. 

He smirks, “Getting shy on me? We’re both guys, you know what this is.”

Read the E on AO3

[shipskicksandgiggles]

dialogue prompts

so for those unaware of how my life tends to go, I end up in a lot of situations where I end up saying something weird or people say weird things to me, and I like adapting those things into prompt lists. send whatever ship/character/what have you with a number and we’ll see how this goes

“Did I go too far?” “Did you go too far? I called my husband a cartoon lesbian!”

“You’re throwing candy at him and he doesn’t even have his tits out.” “That’s how he gets a peanut butter cup.”

“Conservative radio? That has to be Rush Limbaugh.” “Fuck Rush Limbaugh!”

“I’m a massive fucking atheist, but it brings me so much joy to picture Nancy Reagan in hell.”

“You’re so small, it’s like your body can’t contain your excitement. It’s really funny to watch actually.”

“Do not use the word ‘curate’ in relation to 80s heavy metal. You picked it. ‘Curate’, fuck off.”

“I think the neighbors got evicted.” “No, really? It’s about time.”

“You’re like the guy, what’s his name, can’t talk to girls?” “I’d be mad if you weren’t totally right.”

“When you were little I thought you might have been autistic.” “When I was little?”

“You have been gone for six hours-” “Hello child.” “Hi dad- more than six hours actually-”

“I almost took the wrong exit and ended up in Canada, so that’s my day.”

���Who has childproof locks on their car doors?” “What?” “I don’t know, I got stuck in the backseat of a car because of childproofing that shouldn’t exist.”

“I feel like your boyfriend can’t cook.” “Why would you think that?” “Because you cook for him sometimes.” “Why would that mean he can’t though?”

“I think my grandpa tried to set me up with his pastor’s son. Stop laughing, this is serious.”

“Why did she hate you?” “No idea, at that point I was just trying to survive middle school.”

“Well, I mean, the waitress was flirting with you.” “The waitress was what now?”

“What kind of cosmic fuck up did you make to result in this kind of karma?” “I don’t know. I’m so tired.”

“What are you, a dog? Stop chewing on that, you absolute child.”

“You’re just boobing all over the place.” “Boobing.”

“Wait, hold on, let me guess. May of whatever year we were in seventh grade in Detroit.” “Yeah actually, what the fuck? That’s so specific, how did you do that?”

“I like that you call information about yourself lore… Wait, did you just say you got hit by a car?” “I love the order you processed that in.”

“Who had them pegged as the bitch with the biggest tits in this apartment? Not me, that’s for sure.”

“Come here, I need you to bless the vodka bottle.” “I don’t believe in Jesus.” “You don’t need to, just come bless the bottle.”

“I’m stealing his daughter and if he’s still being a homophobe I’ll steal his wife too.”

“I broke up with my boyfriend and my therapist fucking cheered.” “I don’t disagree with her.”

“You would suck dick for a crab rangoon.” “Oh for sure.”

“Someone just handed me condoms in a way that seemed like he thought I had the hardware to be able to use them, however I like that I pass as someone who does, so I’ll take it.”

“So you’re like, an expert on the Titanic, right?” “Is this about the submarine?” “Maybe.” “Great, buckle in, you’ve come to the right person.”

“Do you want me to explain bottom surgery to you? Because I think you’re going to get grossed out.” “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” (dear reader, she was, in fact, grossed out)

“You have main character things happen to you while having the attitude of a quirky side character, and I love it.”

“Is that a lemon?” “It’s a cat, but I see where you’re coming from.”

“During pride month? This is homophobia.” “That was loud.” “Good, I hope the homophobe heard.”

“He was like, ‘is your roommate hot?’ and I was like ‘what, yeah, why?’ like who asks that?” “You think I’m hot?”

“So I have a proposition.” “No.” “You don’t even know what it is.” “Yes I do. That one asshole is hitting you up for a booty call. Don’t.” “Bitch.”

“Where are your wisdom teeth?” “Probably in a medical waste container somewhere if they’re still on this plane of existence.”

“I thought he was kidding!” “Who would joke about a turtle?”

“Hey, can someone drive me to the Urgent Care?” “Like now?” “If you’re not busy.”

“Listen. I avoided admitting myself to a hospital for any reason for almost 17 years. Don’t yell at me for not knowing that wasn’t an Urgent Care problem.”

“Whose Rabbi came to the soccer game?”

“Are you fucking colorblind? That’s purple.”

“I got hit on at the grocery store.” “Was he cute?” “He looked greasy.”

“How do you not know who David Bowie is?” “That is the loudest I’ve ever heard you, holy fuck.”

“When I get wine drunk, I get horny.” “We could have a threesome.” “There’s four people here.” “Oh. Foursome then.”

“Hey can I give you a dollar for one of those beanie babies? I need to butcher it for a cat toy.” “Sure?”

“Sit, we need to talk to you about something.” “Remember when you got high a couple weeks ago and had a gender crisis?”

“Are you going to stab me?” “What? Oh, butter knife, sorry.”

“You know when men have that little swoop of hair? The queef?” “Oh my god I’m crying, you mean a quiff.”

“There is a very large bug on my flowers and I don’t want to touch it.” “That’s my cicada, he’s already dead.”

“Dude, I’ve lived with you for like three months, you’re so obviously a switch.”

“Sometimes you say things and I do not question you because they are the most on brand things you could possibly say. Like sure, I’ll buy that you listen to punk music and have a high pain tolerance. That seems right.”

[ankimodaisukiq]

Geki-Jin Tanbou Vol. 7: Jinya "From Defense to Forward"

Japanese (original; all credits to YU-TO):

INTRO

Hello everyone, this is YU-TO. It's hard to believe, but this "Geki-jin Tanbou" marks the seventh post. Every time I complete an article, I can't help but think, "Am I really surrounded by musicians of such high caliber?" It's a genuine feeling without any doubt or arrogance, and playing music with these musicians is something I take pride in. With a sense of gratitude, let's dive into the 7th edition of the Geki-jin Tanbou.

Our guest this time is Jinya, who plays in Undead Corporation and is also the guitarist for Unlucky Morpheus.

Since starting the Geki-jin Tanbou, Jinya is the first guest from a younger generation than myself. While Jinya and I don't have a "generation gap" per se, there is a noticeable age difference, enough to be perceived as "belonging to different generations" in general society. Interestingly, Jinya is the first musician younger than me I've played with since I seriously started my band. For someone who has played with musicians seven or more years older all along, this feels refreshing.

However, even as we played together, I always sensed that Jinya and I had taken completely different paths as players. Somewhere deep down, I always wanted to clearly understand that "difference." Additionally, Jinya's vigorous recent activities and success in the music scene are remarkable. I had a faint feeling that there was "a change" in him recently, and I wanted to explore that further. When I offered him the opportunity, the conclusion was, to put it bluntly, mind-blowing. While there were moments where I keenly felt the generation gap during our conversation, I also realized, "Ah, this is how musicians from younger generations grow," and simultaneously, I felt that it's only a matter of time before he becomes one of Japan's leading guitarists. You'll understand why I thought this way once you read the article. I hope you can grasp his words, thoughts, and growth, which often don't get much attention in the media. Without further ado, let's get started.

ENCOUNTER WITH CANON ROCK

In this intense interview, we've heard stories about various musicians picking up instruments during their early days, but among them, Jinya's experience stands out. No, the sense of "uniqueness" here is probably due to what is commonly referred to as a "generation gap." In contemporary times, there are likely more players who, like Jinya, spent their initial period similarly. The trigger for Jinya to start playing the guitar was his "admiration for a childhood friend."

"Back in elementary school, I wasn't interested in music at all, but when I was in the first year of middle school, a childhood friend started playing the guitar. He was already an object of admiration—good at sports, smart, and handsome. Seeing him play the guitar, I thought, 'Wow, that's cool,' and decided I wanted to be like that too, so I started playing the guitar."

Although he began playing the guitar due to admiration for a close friend, during this time, Jinya didn't have a specific artist he was devoted to.

"Of course, I didn't dislike music, but I wasn't that knowledgeable about popular music or anything. I really never thought of playing the guitar myself. After starting the guitar, my friend played Japanese rock, like BUMP OF CHICKEN, so that was probably the kind of music I started with. It wasn't a specific artist that influenced me."

At this point, Jinya picked up the guitar not out of a general love for music but from a simple desire to be like his close friend. The Japanese rock that he talks about was likely shaped by his friend's choices rather than being a significant influence that molded Jinya.

However, shortly after this, Jinya had an encounter that explosively increased his enthusiasm for the guitar.

"It was within a month of starting the guitar, I encountered a song that was crucial to me. It was a song called 'Canon Rock,' where a Taiwanese amateur guitarist posted a rock arrangement of Pachelbel's 'Canon' on YouTube. It was incredibly impactful, and I thought, 'I want to play this.'"

Jinya's mentioned 'Canon Rock,' and indeed, the video is still available on YouTube.

The video quality might show its age, but the play and arrangement are simply magnificent. Typically, what boosts one's motivation for playing an instrument is exposure to glamorous rock musicians appearing in the media. However, for Jinya, it was someone who could be described as a "remarkable amateur," posting a performance video on YouTube.

"At that time, I only knew the information about a person with the handle name JerryC from Taiwan. It was what we'd now call a 'cover video.' However, the arrangement was so shocking that the video was massively viewed at that time. So, there was some sort of unspoken understanding among the beginner guitarist community in Japan back then, like 'If you can play Canon Rock, you're a real player.' You know, the feeling of 'I want to become competent quickly' since I was bad (laughs). So, I practiced for a year and managed to play it through."

In contemporary times, not only rock musicians who compete with live performances but also musicians who actively utilize the online world, like those referred to as "YouTubers," inspire beginners. Even though YouTube might not have been as developed at that time, Jinya had already been using YouTube and the internet to gain various information and inspiration. Consequently, Jinya can be considered a player positioned at the beginning of what is known as the "Internet generation," utilizing the internet from the very start of his guitar journey. This use of the internet will contribute to Jinya's improvement in various directions.

GUITARIST NURTURED BY THE INTERNET

I had never perceived Jinya as a "live-raised player" before. Not in terms of technical issues, but more in an abstract sense, a perception I never conveyed or attempted to convey to him. This time, I shared this image I had with him.

Jinya: "That's absolutely right, haha. The first time I played in public was probably on the internet. Back then, blogs were popular, so I diligently kept a practice diary on my blog, saying things like 'I mastered this part today' or 'this part is challenging,' along with recordings. Looking into it now, I was already uploading recordings at home within a month of starting the guitar. It was terrible, haha. That was my first attempt at sharing with the outside world."

Hearing this, I was somewhat culturally shocked. When I started playing the drums for the first month, I never considered sharing it with anyone. It was still a world of just watching the internet, and I didn't know how to utilize it. At that time, Jinya not only used the term "sharing" but also engaged in a live-like use of the internet.

"There were people like 'blog buddies' back then. People gathered, wanting to learn 'Canon Rock,' and a community discussing various guitar topics formed around that. After a while, a service called 'Stickam,' similar to today's ZOOM, was introduced. We used it to practice guitar together. I spent every day immersed in that community, playing the guitar. So, people watched me play there every day. It was really encouraging, and you can't play embarrassingly when people are watching, right? (laughs) I think that's how I improved."

While video calls like ZOOM are widespread nowadays due to global circumstances, they weren't as prevalent during that time. Jinya's foresight in recognizing this early and actively participating in such a community within a few months of starting the guitar is remarkable. Even on the internet, showcasing your play, which is still in its early stages, requires a certain level of courage. Some young people might hesitate and miss out on leveraging the advantages of modern communication where anyone can share.

However, just as musicians of the past honed their skills through jam sessions, if you truly want to improve, you need to continually showcase your play to others, occasionally receive feedback on your shortcomings, and elevate your skills. While the internet can sometimes have negative effects on players, Jinya maximized its positive aspects and became an ideal player for the contemporary era, refining his skills.

Jinya firmly asserts his relationship with his guitar and the internet:

"If it weren't for the internet, I probably wouldn't have continued playing the guitar. Without the internet, I wouldn't have encountered Canon Rock, and I think my middle school days would have ended with just a bit of playing." 

Likely, those who can thrive in the future music scene are players like Jinya, who fully utilize the elements of their time. I believe his rapid improvement is a result of such considerations.

THE UNANTICIPATED "PATH OF MUSIC"

Jinya, utilizing the internet to gather information and captivated by various technical guitarists like Paul Gilbert and Steve Vai, gradually began performing live shows.

"In my third year of junior high, someone approached me at a music store while I was trying out a guitar, saying, 'You're good.' He was a bassist, and we became friends. The two of us started performing live. I programmed drums myself, and we played guitar instrumentals at a local venue in Utsunomiya. We covered some songs and had about half of our setlist with original compositions. From that time, I bought a multitrack recorder and started trying my hand at composing."

Performing with that unit occurred a few times a year. During this period, Jinya emphasizes that his main activities were still online.

"For me, 'performing in public' was definitely the internet's main battleground. I never really played live regularly at local venues as a band member. Besides, I lived in a rural area, so it was challenging to find band members. I wanted to play hard music, but there was no one interested in that. So, I thought, 'Why not play alone?' (laughs) I just practiced relentlessly, showcasing the results on the internet."

During this time, Jinya viewed the internet not as a tool to connect with external activities but as the main platform for his activities. He hadn't focused much on live performances.

"At that time, 'sharing music' for me was entirely on the internet. I didn't think of pursuing music as the next step after high school. I was already well-versed in using the internet to share music. While there's an idea that you need to play in a band and make it your life's focus to convey music, I realized in middle and high school that it wasn't necessary. You can share music just by playing the guitar at home, recording videos, and sharing them whenever you like. That was enough for me at the time."

Although this attitude might draw disapproval from some traditional "live performance-centric" veteran musicians (laughs), it is something that musicians of the current generation should indeed consider. Jinya, at that time, enjoyed playing live, and he wasn't entirely inactive outside the internet. However, at this point, committing his life to music and considering a future in the industry was entirely out of the question.

"I mean, isn't the path of music like a 'thorny path'? (laughs) I didn't have the courage to follow that thorny path. At that time, I thought entering a comfortable company, living a leisurely life without any highs or lows, was the best for me. Music can still be done even after becoming a working adult, right? I thought it was fine to play music when I wanted to at home, record videos, and share them. Of course, I loved music, but at that time, I thought I couldn't live as someone whose life revolves around music."

At that time, Jinya seemed somewhat indifferent, not harboring hopes for the future—just an ordinary young person living with the idea of "it's fine to live comfortably." However, his life and perspective on music gradually but distinctly transformed into something more "professional." A young musician who had mostly resolved his activities online began to envision the "live scene," growing into a genuine musician playing the guitar in front of thousands and thousands of people.

JOINING UNLUCKY MORPHEUS

Currently, Jinya's main activity revolves around Unlucky Morpheus, a band representing Japan in the melodic speed metal genre. Infused with grand orchestral arrangements and Fuki's outstanding vocals, they have gained many fans with their original and expressive compositions. Jinya joined Unlucky Morpheus during his high school years.

"Towards the end of my second year of high school, I received a message from Shiren asking, 'Want to play in our band?' At that time, I was supporting another group, and we had a joint performance with Unlucky Morpheus. Shiren had been watching me during that performance and seemed to like something about my playing. I had known about Unlucky Morpheus since around my first year of high school, so being approached by someone I admired was quite a feeling, like, 'Wow, I'm being approached by someone I look up to.'"

According to Jinya, Shiren had heard rumors of an impressive young guitarist even before the joint performance. Jinya, who had been diligently honing his skills through the internet more than anyone else, probably had considerable technical prowess even during high school. Thus, Jinya became a live member of Unlucky Morpheus, marking the beginning of more authentic musical activities beyond the internet.

"Now I could fully demonstrate the results of my practice. Well, until then, I had been playing alone on the internet (laughs). Although the venues weren't necessarily large, every live show was packed. Experiencing people watching my guitar in real-time, live, was something I couldn't easily achieve through internet activities alone. Of course, I had some live experience before, but it was during this time that I first felt how intense live houses could be. It was shocking because sweating while playing the guitar, as opposed to playing on the internet, was an experience I hadn't had before (laughs)."

At this time, Jinya discovered the enjoyment of live performances for the first time. It wasn't about comparing the merits of online and offline activities, but he realized the value of both. However, at this point, he still couldn't consider pursuing music as a career in the future.

"I had a few pleasant experiences like that, more like 'beginner's luck' in gambling. I thought, 'This is just a coincidence,' and it didn't really shake my feelings during high school."

While continuing his activities with Unlucky Morpheus, Jinya simultaneously pursued higher education with the intention of entering the workforce. It was during his university years that he began to undergo gradual changes in his feelings.

"From this time onwards, I started performing in larger venues, and my position gradually changed. Initially, I played backing guitar during live performances, but as my skills improved, my role within Unlucky Morpheus expanded. Around that time, not only with Unlucky Morpheus but also with Undead Corporation, I was invited to join. In other words, people started relying on me. During middle and high school, I was just sharing what I created, but now people were asking me to play guitar for them. That made me think, 'Maybe I can be useful to others.' If I can be helpful, I want to do it. That's when my feelings started to solidify little by little."

For Jinya, Unlucky Morpheus was the first platform that truly exposed him to the world of music outside the internet. Utilizing his information gathering skills honed online and applying the knowledge gained, Jinya quickly became a presence that "others couldn't ignore."

"I briefly considered job hunting, but, conversely, I couldn't adapt to that environment. I started feeling that I wanted to express myself more. I gradually thought that music might be the thing I could wholeheartedly devote myself to. It was a vague idea, but it turned out this way in the end. However, I think if I had continued playing guitar only on the internet during my university days, I wouldn't have developed these feelings. Having people who 'pick you up' is crucial, I believe."

The greatest benefit I gain from writing this in-depth exploration is the real, tangible experience of the transformative power of music in one's life. A young person who once thought, "It's good to live an easy life in the future," discovers the joy of being useful to others through music and chooses a life pursuing that. What else can we call this if not the "power of music"? Although nothing dramatically happened, slowly and steadily, music enhances a person's life, making it richer and better. I believe that this is the reason why music continues to exist in this world. Having experienced the power of music, Jinya's journey unfolds further, and an event awaits him, pushing him to become an "aggressive" guitarist.

FROM DEFENSE TO FORWARD

In 2017, Unlucky Morpheus experienced a significant change. Shiren, the leader and lead guitarist, developed tenosynovitis, requiring a period of rest for treatment. As a result, he could no longer perform lead guitar as before. To continue the band in this situation, Jinya had to take on the role of lead guitarist.

"I had played solos here and there before, but from then on, the proportion of my solo parts explosively increased. The situation was such that Shiren wasn't even playing the guitar in some songs."

Until then, Unlucky Morpheus had primarily positioned Shiren as the main guitarist, with Jinya in a supporting role. However, due to this incident, Jinya officially took on the role of lead guitarist for Unlucky Morpheus.

"Consciously, things definitely changed. In a negative sense, I used to think I should be a guitarist who played quietly in the background to support Shiren's lead guitar. It's a strange way to put it, but I also thought, 'It's better not to stand out too much.' Well, I didn't think about it that clearly, but there was some awareness like that. However, because of this incident, I had to shift from defense to forward and put myself in a position to score points. That's when I started to strongly feel, 'I am the guitarist for Unlucky Morpheus.'"

Certainly, Shiren's injury and recovery were setbacks for the band, but the option of stopping their activities was never considered by Unlucky Morpheus.

"Of course, it was a setback, but Shiren also wanted to turn his injury into a positive direction as much as possible. By putting me in the front at this timing, he aimed to strengthen the overall capability of Unlucky Morpheus. Even though it was a challenging situation, we continued the band, and in the end, it worked out well."

Despite facing such setbacks, Unlucky Morpheus continued its vigorous activities. It's not just Shiren's strong mental resilience, even with his significant injury, that kept the band going. Jinya's efforts and the change in his mindset also played a significant role.

"Well, I don't think there was a drastic change in technical aspects like memorizing songs or playing fast. However, mentally, things changed a lot. I feel like I have to have more confidence now. Until then, Shiren had reigned as the lead guitarist, so looking back now, I think I didn't feel much about my own confidence. But with Shiren, the shield, no longer there, I needed to stand at the forefront and fight like facing an enemy (laughs). Of course, it was like that before, but my consciousness of being seen as 'Unlucky Morpheus' guitarist, and the awareness that if I played poorly, it wouldn't be good for 'Unlucky Morpheus' became stronger. Naturally, I prepared for that and practiced, and both my guitar playing and behavior changed significantly due to that incident. The awareness of 'Jinya is Unlucky Morpheus' guitarist' emerged within me. Then, I thought I couldn't be complacent. It's a sensory thing, so I can't express it clearly, but I started feeling the consciousness of 'I need to be aggressive' and 'I need to set goals.'"

This incident became a turning point for Jinya, bringing significant growth and a change in consciousness. Facing challenges without breaking, overcoming them courageously, Jinya joined the ranks of top-notch musicians. His attitude, objectively assessing his position within the band and how others perceive him, is truly respectable, even though he is younger. Many musicians from the "internet generation" are often seen as emotionally fragile and tending to stay within their shells. However, the fact that there are musicians like Jinya, who learn various things both online and in live settings, can be perceived as a threat but also as an encouraging presence for our generation and the ones above. Jinya's growth will undoubtedly contribute to Unlucky Morpheus' further leaps in the future.

ACTIVITIES WITH "TOP-TIER" MUSICIANS

In addition to his band activities, Jinya simultaneously works as a support guitarist for various artists. Some venues, with nearly 10,000 attendees and around 50 songs to perform, not only demand technical expertise but also require mental resilience. How do these support activities influence Jinya?

"There's a term 'Shingitai,' right? Mind, technique, and body—if any of these is lacking, you can't fully showcase your performance in such situations. If it were just a few songs, I think you could manage with a bit lacking in the 'body' part as long as you had 'mind' and 'technique.' But when there are many songs, you need to be healthy and robust, especially performing in large venues introduces anxiety. So, how to keep your mind intact and play as usual—it's directly related to mental strength. It really felt incredible to coordinate all three seamlessly; otherwise, you can't deliver a decent performance."

It's obvious, but playing an instrument is not the sole job of a musician. There are cases where you need to memorize a vast number of songs, especially in a supporting role. Beyond showcasing your own play, you also need the skill of responding to the client's requirements. Jinya mentions that he has learned a lot by working with top-tier studio musicians in these settings.

"They perform regularly at places like Nippon Budokan or Seibu Dome, so, well, the level is just high (laughs). Their on-the-spot responsiveness, vitality, really, the Shingitai is on a different level. They kind of rewrote what I had thought of as 'human limits.' My perceived limits were quite low, and seeing them made me feel like 'Oh, human limits are much higher.' I realized that."

Even among professionals, the technical requirements differ significantly between band musicians and studio musicians. While band musicians need the skill of "how to produce oneself," studio musicians need the skill of "how to meet the demands." 

"For example, the ability to immediately shape an image when told 'I want it like this,' and also, their physical stamina is incredible. I think there's both the aspect of having incredible physical stamina itself and supplementing it with mental strength. It's the feel of people who have gained experience. "

Jinya was thrown into a completely different world of musicians, where he learned many things while being shaped by it. Although the work in these settings eventually went well, making him a continuously called-upon fixed member, Jinya's unique "research skills" played a supporting role.

"Initially, it was my first time going to such settings, so there were many things I didn't know... I didn't know even the common sense in those circles, but I just covered it up (laughs). Because I couldn't say 'I can't do it,' I kept covering and collecting things I didn't have. Gratefully, I was repeatedly called for the next job. Of course, they'd request confidently, 'You can do it, right?' So, even if I didn't know, I'd say, 'I can do it,' then desperately research and practice behind the scenes, buying any missing equipment, filling in the missing pieces. Especially the first time was clearly adversity, but humans grow the most when overcoming adversity, right? Just like muscles (laughs). The effort to overcome adversity seems to have resulted in a good outcome."

When faced with a request for something he lacked, Jinya's approach was to research and make it his own. It's not the absence of something that is the problem; it's crucial how one responds at that moment. This process of "filling in missing pieces" is a task Jinya himself is good at, and his insatiable curiosity is one of his distinctive features. As years of playing accumulate, there are times when I try to solve things only within the scope of what I already possess, refusing to gain new knowledge. However, occasionally, actions like Jinya's thorough effort to fill in what he lacks might be necessary. By doing so, one can, like him, turn encountered adversity into one's own flesh and blood, potentially raising one's own level by multiple degrees. Hearing Jinya's story, I couldn't help but think, "Well, of course, you'll grow." It seemed obvious and straightforward.

HANDLING HIS OWN "CHARM"

Jinya, who handles various support roles, often finds that the selection criteria for such jobs involve not only technical aspects but also the element of "good looks." In live performances where the majority of the audience is female, even as a support member, having members who appear attractive to the female audience can enhance the overall quality of the live show as simple "entertainment." Despite being of the same gender, I must say Jinya has a distinct charm in his looks.

His androgynous, well-defined features are makeup-friendly, and while not particularly tall, his slender physique accentuates his androgynous aura. Many musicians consider how to present themselves and tend to appear somewhat excessive in their appeal. However, Jinya doesn't give the impression of actively showcasing such appeal.

"Frankly, I had zero confidence in my looks since middle and high school... I wasn't popular, and I never thought my looks would be a selling point. So when I presented my music, I thought, 'Why not just film my hands playing without showing my face?' If you show only that, and if the performance is good, you can be appreciated for the technique you've cultivated. If you show your face, even if the performance is good, other evaluations come in like noise, or at least, that's how I felt back then. So, by showing only my hands, I felt a sense of relief that I could be appreciated for the techniques I've practiced."

As most people are aware, in music, the element of "looks" is inseparable. Statements like "You won't succeed unless you're handsome" or "Your appearance won't cut it" are unrelated to music but have affected many in their musical pursuits. Particularly in the age of the internet, which Jinya has been utilizing since he started playing the guitar, he was likely hypersensitive to such matters.

"What I wanted to do was music, not to be evaluated for my appearance. Some people would say it's good, but I didn't want to hear negative comments, and it felt like I shouldn't have to deal with that. I had no confidence to begin with, and I really disliked that kind of thing."

In the music industry, one is occasionally treated in an overly "entertainment" manner, and attractiveness in appearance is sometimes overly emphasized. The music Jinya has been immersed in is on a completely different level, where artists compete based on the goodness of music and technique.

"If my roots were in visual kei, I might have felt like, 'Let's sell my looks.' I could have done my own makeup, confidently saying, 'I look cool, right?' That's a good thing for a musician too. But I fundamentally had a different starting point... For example, Mr. Big, they look cool, but fundamentally, you watch them for their incredible musical skills, right? Maybe I leaned too much toward that part and became twisted, or so I think (laughs)."

This is a personal opinion, but I don't want Jinya to become the type of musician who relies on looks to compete. That's because, with his handsome face and an aura of charm, he chooses not to leverage his looks but competes solely with his musicianship, making it an integral part of who he is as a musician. However, as Jinya has aged and accumulated various experiences in recent years, he seems to have become more accepting of evaluations based on appearance that come from those around him.

"Well, now the circumstances are different, or rather... fundamentally, music is a kind of entertainment, and I don't think it's just about being appreciated and evaluated for playing an instrument. It encompasses everything like appearance, behavior, speech... I think all of that together creates the 'music' as entertainment. For example, even if someone makes amazing music, if that person is anti-social, they might not be appreciated, right? So, I've gradually come to realize that playing an instrument alone isn't entertainment. I've accepted that appearance is being appreciated, but (laughs) well, I don't feel bad about receiving praise. However, I do think, 'It hasn't been cultivated for over ten years for nothing,' though (bitter smile)."

Jinya's humility towards his own looks is genuine and not just a pose, as I felt from listening to his story. The character of being unaware or even having a complex about having an attractive appearance is a trait that, when you think about it, is very appealing and would be well-received by anyone in the worlds of manga or anime. Jinya does it sincerely, without any sarcasm—a charming presence indeed (laughs). 

THE DIGNITY ACQUIRED AS AN ARTIST

There was a collaboration between Undead Corporation and Hone Your Sense for the song "Face The Fate," and the music video was being shot. I met Jinya after a long time, and upon seeing him with a guitar, I felt a somewhat different atmosphere compared to before. This was the "change" that I had sensed in Jinya at the beginning. To put it simply, there was a certain "dignity" when he held the guitar.

It's a common point, but as mentioned in the previous chapter, mere good looks and the coolness as a musician are entirely different. While Jinya had the looks and techniques before, I had never felt that he possessed something as a musician. However, when I saw Jinya after a long time, there was undoubtedly an "aura" emanating from him.

Understanding how to showcase himself, exuding a certain calmness and charm, were things I had never felt from the previous Jinya. I played the drums while thinking, "Ah, he has changed after experiencing various things." Because it felt so natural to me, I ended up going home without saying anything on that particular day. However, upon further reflection, I realized I wanted to hear more about what Jinya himself thought.

"Well, um, I think it's a nuance of having grown through battles... There are scenes where you feel like, 'If I make a mistake here, it's over for my music career,' right? (laughs) Overcoming such strong pressures, I feel that I've gained more 'composure' compared to before. Well, it feels like I'm just a guy saying something (laughs), but if this 'composure' looks like an aura, that's fine, I guess (laughs)."

What I felt, a kind of aura from Jinya during the filming of the music video, is undoubtedly something that won't be acquired without accumulating experience on-site. While Jinya's main battlefield was the internet when he started playing the guitar, in recent years, he has experienced a lot, such as the tension-filled scenes where "mistakes are not allowed" and performing in venues with over 1,000 people.

Through such professional experiences and the effort he put into making his work his own, he naturally acquired an aura as a musician that is unique to him.

"Of course, you can't get things just by being defensive, and by turning to an offensive stance, you gain various things. I feel like I've had various experiences in this 'offense.' Compared to when there was nothing, I feel that it has given me a bit more confidence."

Certainly, having a defensive attitude is not a bad thing. The humility gained from such experiences and the ability to look around are essential qualities for a musician. However, there are times when one must firmly appeal to oneself and fight with an offensive attitude. After overcoming that battle, there is the acquisition of an aura as a musician that others cannot easily approach.

The understanding of "defense" acquired at the beginning of the band and the knowledge gained through recent experiences in "offense" are both becoming well-known to Jinya. He is on the path to becoming a truly formidable guitarist.

While retaining the atmosphere of "defense" from before, I am eager to see more of the "offensive" Jinya in the future.

WHAT WAS GAINED FROM THE ADVICE FROM SENIOR GUITARISTS

During the interview for the previous Geki-Jin Tanbou at STUDIO PRISONER, when I mentioned my plan to cover Jinya in the next one, Hiro from STUDIO PRISONER seemed to express that he, too, had noticed Jinya's growth. Since Unlucky Morpheus also records at STUDIO PRISONER, Hiro appears to have sensed a significant improvement in Jinya's approach to playing and his attitude towards sound in recent years through their collaboration. I asked Jinya about this development.

"Honestly, I think Hiro-san's influence is enormous. I used to do my own recordings, studying not only the sound I recorded but also sounds recorded by others. When I first heard Hiro-san's created sound, I was like, 'What is this?!' And apparently, he's doing it individually, not in a major studio. I was shocked, thinking, 'Can such an aggressive sound be created at the individual level?' Since then, I've always wanted to meet Hiro-san."

Before actually getting Hiro's recordings, it seems Jinya was already impressed by Hiro's sound. However, the advice received during the recording process and when Hiro watched his live performances has become a crucial element in shaping the current Jinya.

"I think the first time we met was during the recording of Undead Corporation's 'Flashback.' At that time, I was pretty much in 'safe mode.' While Hiro-san recorded my sound and came to my live performances, he often told me things like, 'Jin-kun, you can't fight with that.' I already liked and trusted Hiro-san's created sounds, so it was quite impactful to hear things that gave off the nuance of 'you can't fight like this' from someone I admired. That really changed my awareness. For example, he would say, 'You need to express gain more with your picking,' or 'Right now, Jin-kun, you're playing from your wrist, but it's better to play with your whole body.' I realized that until then, I had only been playing with my head and wrists."

As can be understood from the previous Geki-Jin feature, Hiro is a guitarist and engineer who maintains an "offensive" attitude in various aspects. His approach was entirely opposite to the Jinya of that time, and working or being associated with such a character was undoubtedly stimulating for the Jinya of that period.

"Actually, Hiro-san has been recording my guitar all the time, so he's constantly listening to my guitar objectively under the same conditions. Therefore, he can sense changes more sensitively than I can. He gives me various advice or, well, scoldings (laughs), saying, 'That's improved' or 'That's gotten worse.' So, that had a considerable impact. The fact that I adopted an 'offensive' attitude was significantly influenced by Hiro-san. Being strongly told off by a musician I respect has been significant in my experience. If I had been told off weakly, it might not have affected me as much (laughs), but he was quite firm, saying, 'That won't do.'"

As mentioned in the previous Geki-Jin feature, I conveyed that STUDIO PRISONER has contributed significantly to the growth of many musicians. Jinya, too, was one of the musicians who grew there. Digesting Hiro's strong advice and turning it into nourishment undoubtedly requires a certain level of curiosity and patience. While Jinya recalls being in a "safe mode" during that time, his attitude to not disregard Hiro's advice, to think earnestly, and to confront the challenges head-on is something I sense in his approach from that period. Even if he doesn't emphasize it entirely, despite his looks, Jinya has always had a somewhat masculine and principled side, which was evident from the beginning. Thinking about it, Jinya's growth seems to have started from that time, and in recent years, it has become visible and tangible through his active performances. Always absorbing something and striving to make it his own is one of Jinya's significant characteristics and an essential element that cannot be overlooked when discussing him.

THE VISION OF THE MUSICIAN FOR THE FUTURE

Jinya, who has shown remarkable activity and growth in recent years, is undoubtedly evolving. What kind of musician does he aspire to become in the future?

"It's not about whether I can play or not; when I watch my old performances, I feel there was something bland about them. But being able to recognize that means I've changed and evolved, so I want to feel that my current self is bland five or ten years from now."

Starting from the early days of independent expression using the internet, his guitar play, shaped through various live performances and interactions with people, has become more profound. With the aura derived from his innate charm and experiences, Jinya is aiming to become a truly unique guitarist. However, the ideal musician image he envisions is not about imposing his own charm or play onto others; instead, he wishes to be a musician who can contribute solidly to others.

"I want to be a reliable presence for people. There's a part of me that sees it as a reason for living. I want to contribute to the people who rely on me. And of course, there's the desire to meet the expectations of people who listen to the music I've been involved in. Overall, I want to be a man who's reliable to others, a musician with a firm core who seems like he won't collapse easily. That's what I aim for (laughs)."

The Jinya of high school, who once thought, "If I can live life safely, that would be good," is no longer present in his current self. The Jinya who challenges the unknown, makes something out of it, and ultimately contributes to others has become a different person from the Jinya of high school, even though I don't know that version of him.

"I did have a long period where I thought I wanted to live life safely. I think, as long as you think that way, you might stumble on even small steps, and I think I was that kind of person. That's why I aspire to be someone who is needed by others, looking up to those who aren't like that."

Being able to reflect on his past self and objectively consider his current way of life is already a sign of growth. Jinya is becoming a musician who is relied upon, and his considerations of the guitar and music are no longer a means to achieve selfish goals. Jinya takes music seriously, and the choice of "living life safely" no longer exists within him.

"As I've said many times, I was a safe personality, sticking to a do-nothing attitude, especially around high school. But music made me want to pursue something and earnestly try something different from others. It might sound like a big statement, but... I think if I could die feeling that I've used up all my energy and physical strength, that would be a happy life. Music seems to be a place that allows me to do that. If I entrust myself to music, I might be able to push my limits. I don't know where it will lead, but if I continue like this, I think I can reach the point of using all my abilities. Regardless of the result, if I can end my life having used up all my abilities, I'd be happy playing music in that way. That's what music is for me."

I'm looking forward to the day when I can play with Jinya again, but more than that, the greater anticipation is seeing how much he continues to grow. I sincerely believe that he will become a tougher player, leading the Japanese guitarist scene. Jinya has ample potential, and I hope he becomes an existence that surpasses me, providing significant inspiration to both myself and other musicians of our generation. I'm quite confident that this will happen in the near future. I'm looking forward to that time with great excitement.

AFTERWORD

I never expected this article to become so passionately charged. Being in a band involves unexpectedly hectic situations, and especially for someone like me, often not an original member of the band, deep conversations with all members are not as frequent as one might think. 

It was the first time I sat down with Jinya to talk about various things in a truly focused manner, and there were many things I came to know just now. His words and the strong will behind them are surprisingly powerful, to the extent that I can't help but think that the media should highlight more of his words in the future.

For someone like me, who doesn't have much interaction with musicians from younger generations, his presence is extremely valuable. Knowing that he's tackling many things I haven't experienced and hasn't achieved yet, despite being younger, has truly been stimulating.

The phrase "stimulating" might inherently carry a somewhat "frustrating" feeling for anyone. However, I didn't sense any such feelings from Jinya; rather, there was a genuine desire to cheer him on, to see him succeed. It became apparent that this came from the humility and sincerity evident in Jinya's words.

Even though he speaks of still being in the "understudy" phase and claims a lack of confidence in his looks despite his refined appearance, it genuinely seems like that's what he feels. I believe Jinya's innocence will significantly contribute to his ideal of becoming a "reliable presence." His purity could foster trust in others' hearts, making him someone who can be entrusted with various responsibilities.

I look forward to seeing what kind of presence he will become in the future music scene. However, there's still a part of me that feels like he's too perfect—good looks, great technique, excellent personality—it's almost like he's a character from a manga world (laughs). Moreover, he isn't "intentionally" humble; it's a genuine humility that he expresses, making him even more like a character from a popular manga (laughs). "Jinya" truly is such a musician.

July 6, 2020

YU-TO SUGANO

[livewireprojects]

Old 12 Pains of Christmas Sketches

After that big ass post about what was the predecessor to my Lost Prince AU here is some sketches I made once connected to an update to the predecessor that is more closer to how the present version is.

This was based off the song "The 12 Pains of Christmas" by Bob Rivers, if we're lucky I'll update this one day but we all know I might not get to it. I think this was also going to be a video but never got to it.

Fun fact I think these pics led to me giving up on FurAffinity thanks to them removing the images thanks to "noise issues in the audio" or some shit. Keep in mind this is a picture.(I did eventually make a new account but I'm still barely on there)

This kind of contains spoilers

First thing

Finding a Christmas tree, Sonic can't see(he's blind & has his eyes covered to keep them from getting even more damaged) & has an outfit based off the one I use to give his werehog form which is based on the fandom character(for Durarara) Psyche. Funny enough my introduction of the song 12 Pains of Christmas involved a Maple Story video were someone has a blindfold & is trying to find a Christmas tree for the rest of the video.

Second thing

Knuckles has his gloves off or different gloves on for this. He's doing this cause the guy for this part was pissed the whole time. I mistakenly didn't get the second pic of him that you see in the corner.

Kunckles is rigging up the lights & Rouge is coming up the building to help. Lara is flying off to help while Mephiles, Sonic & Shadow are there in the distance watching.

Third thing

Manic is hung over, this was when Kur was still around in my stuff & the poor naga is helping him

Forth thing

Uncle Chuck sending Christmas cards

Had no idea who to put for this

Fifth thing

Vector dealing with months of bills

Sixth thing

Revived Cosmo(at one point I had the idea of her being a squirrel before making her a chipmunk) panicking over her in-laws. Oh hey Bokkun is in the corner.

Jules scares her but Blaze's mom(Blaze is technically niece-in-law) scares her more. Apparently even back in 2014 I imagined Blaze's mom being a terrible person.

Seventh thing

Salvation Army

I forgot what the secret message for this was but I know it was something bad I learned the Salvation Army did cause they did some terrible shit.

Yeah Tails doesn't want to be here.

Eighth Thing

Obligatory mention that Sonic X was my first Sonic series

Bokkun bothering Eggman, the poor bastard

Ninth thing

No parking

I haven't drawn Chris in a long time, oh hey I got his hair right this time.(Last time I had a pic of him in his late teens/adult design I gave him his 12 year old design's hair)

Tenth thing

Batteries not included

Vanilla is confused

Eleventh thing

Big, Blaze & Silver watching stale TV specials

Froggy is sleeping in a fish tank setup for a frog enclosure when not off somewhere with Big

Twelfth thing

Cubot, Bocoe, Decoe & Orbot singing Christmas carols

I didn't feel like fully drawing Cubot & Orbot's bodies so they're in closed shape mode.

It's kind of funny seeing these four together because I imagine at some point Bocoe & Decoe had leftby the time Orbot was in the picture.(Orbot showed up before Cubot became his kind of work partner since these robots meant to be Eggman's righthand men work in pairs)

Bonus image

Don't ask why "Arcobaleno of the" is there, that was for something else & I forgot the context past Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

This was meant to be a space filler that'd be there every time the number changed which is why the sign is blank.

Pretty much Mephiles dressed for Christmas(Sonia gave him the sweater) holding a sign for every time the number changed in the song. Next to him are Shadow & Sonic's daughter Maria along with Mephiles & Sonic's daughter Helen. Both have had their names changed & have had design changes(since both look way too much like who they got their names from), I also have no idea why Helen's mouth is visible cause she's meant to have an invisible mouth like her dad.

This was also back from when I didn't draw eyebrows unless they were needed for certain expressions.

[tobiasdrake]

This is it. The seventh chapter, Chapter 5.

This is going to either be the final or the penultimate chapter. I'm not entirely sure. Traditionally, a Danganronpa is six chapters long. Chapter 5 is the top-tier WTF case that blows your socks off. Then Chapter 6 is endgame, where all secrets are revealed along with shocking twists and swerves that shatter your very understanding of what game you've even been playing up to this point.

Kodaka loves him a Shyamalanian rug-pull. I've spent the whole game occasionally eyeballing the corners of the rug and wondering which direction it's going to get yanked. There is always a yank. Even when it's, uh, not very good for the internal consistency of the story and theme. (Looking at you, Ultra Despair Girls.)

Maybe everyone was homunculi this whole time. Maybe Makoto's going to take off his mask and instead of a face he has a yawning void leading into your own personal nightmares. Maybe Shinigami was the true villain all along somehow. Who knows. But there's gonna be a yank somewhere.

I just don't know if it's this chapter or if there's one more, because the existence of two separate prologues has thrown the numbering out of whack. Chapter 4 genuinely did feel like your typical Chapter 5 Top-Tier WTF, right up there with DR 1-5, 2-5, and 3-5. If they are going to top that, I don't know how they would.

Given that we now seem to be moving, abruptly and aggressively, in the direction of having to face down Makoto as our true nemesis? This feels like we've entered endgame.

...we should have flung him out of his penthouse when we had the chance.

Okay, we're alive. And conscious. In a spooky dark room that's hard to make out. I was expecting some sort of sterile Amaterasu facility but "the house from the Grudge" works too, I guess.

At least we aren't alone. We can--

OKAY I GUESS WE'RE DOING SPOOKER HORROR NOW. THIS IS NOT OUR GENRE BUT SURE.

...

...

I mean. You can see my soul-devouring Faustian companion in that shot. This is my genre. BUT IT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE Y'ALL'S. I'm the only one that's allowed to do Lovecraftian bullshit! That was the agreement!

Y'all this is straight-up Resident Evil shit. I. Don't. Feel safe. In a very different way from how I normally don't feel safe in this game. We've taken a complete turn from the atmosphere and tone in a way that's shocking and--

Ooh, bauble! I'm gonna get that bauble. Never mind, I feel comfortable agai--

LEGS.

OH GOD THEY USED THE BAUBLE AS BAIT. WHAT THE FUCK. That is a complete betrayal of the player/developer relationship of trust we've built up to this point.

What the fuck what the fuck what-- Oh, wait, it's not a corpse. It's Kurumi. Okay. That's better. We like her.

Silent Hill. Your guess is as good as mine for how we got here, but that's par for the course for that particular psychokinetic hot-spot.

In seriousness, this is probably the Restricted Area. The real one, not the classified lab Makoto played up with all the energy of painting "DISNEY WORLD" on a cardboard sign and hanging it over a backyard water slide.

An abandoned village that allegedly cannot be entered because you will choke and die on toxic gas immediately.

Incidentally, how's your breathing, Kurumi?

You.

You know other places have rain too, right?

They don't have Forever Rain but. Like. Rain itself, the concept of rain, is not a unique Kanai Ward phenomenon.

Kurumi's lived in this city for so long that she doesn't know rain can happen for non-suspicious reasons.

...I mean, some places have Forever Rain too. Kanai Ward is basically Seattle. POINT IS, Kanai Ward does not own a patent on rainfall.

I hate that we're here without explanation. There aren't even any guards. What the hell is your game, Makoto? This is such a weird place to bring us to and then leave us to fend for ourselves.

Did you dump us here because we weren't Master Detectives or something? You were only after the pros, and threw us out as spares? We're not good enough for homunculus experiments or whatever?

It'll be weird if we find them too. If everyone was dumped here, that raises further questions than if only Kurumi and Yuma were dumped here.

I mean, Yuma's done a lot of answer-finding and mystery-solving, but none of it's public knowledge. So far as anyone, even our own colleagues know, every crime solved itself or was solved by the Master Detectives, while the killers kept abruptly dying for no explainable reason. All the while, Yuma was nearby looking like a useless doof.

Outwardly, Yuma's history is one of trying to solve the crimes, failing, and then getting bailed out by circumstance or by the killer's corpse spontaneously standing up and explaining everything apropos of nothing. The best that can be said about his abilities from that lens is "Good effort, has enthusiasm".

Only Vivia, Vivia specifically, knows the truth. Interesting how that isn't a violation of the ominous "You can't tell anyone about our contract" clause, because he learned it himself through the interaction of his metaphysics and Shinigami's. I smell loophole!

Anyway, let's go see if we can find our friends. If we're lucky, Fubuki, Halara, and Vivia will be somewhere around here.

If we're unlucky, we'll be jumped by the spooky spooker.

What a title card. This is fine.

I sure hope not. If it is, I'll have a few apologies I have to make. Do you think "My bad, I may have overreacted," will suffice?

Got some horrific atmosphere and tension and a lot of questions raised by our presence here. BUT FIRST.

This better be someone good. You fucking owe me for that trick you pulled.

This is my villain origin story. I'm going to fuse with Shinigami and become a ravenous, ghostly murder-plague upon the land. My body count will make Samara jealous.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

why is body back called body back 👀

So I have this funny thing where I can’t really write something without a title (one of my favourite singers said this once years ago and I was like ??? couldn’t be me & now it’s me lol), so the minute I figured out I wanted to write BB, I headed to my book titles document. I literally just went through the list till I found one that vaguely worked with the themes LMAO and that was BB! I originally thought I’d come up with this title for a poem about me, but I realized that may have been the goal, but that actual title comes from a line in Seventh Virtue (in Reeve’s POV).

She’s not sure how the realization comes to him. If she’s that translucent now, unable to hold her own secrets like she’s unable to hold wine or her own body back.

This is from the penultimate chapter!

Anyway, how I view it in BB, it’s about how can Harrison, after this really destructive romance, find his body back. He doesn’t really feel alive in BB, & struggles to even connect to himself physically post-Lonan. BB is like an oath to himself & indicates a sense of vengefulness. I title dropped it in 24k Harrison with that idea in mind.

To see the BB drop we also need to see the “body gone” drop that prompts Harrison to even think about the phrase “body back.”

And where is [Jeremiah] now? In the artificial light, Harrison hunts for him too—but he’s not in the unhinging bathroom stalls, not in the teal grout, the running sinks, and maybe he never existed at all, missing like Jesus in the tomb—body gone, body gone, body gone.

The above line is inspired by a poem I wrote (WHICH funnily is about the weekend I started writing BB in my freezing apartment lmaooo) where I talked about the stolen body hypothesis (which is v interesting if you haven’t looked into it). I recycled that here because Jesus is such a huge part of Harrison’s psychology in BB. While googling bits of his burial, etc, I came across this line from Wikipedia:

“Although Jesus' body had been laid out in the tomb after crucifixion and death, the tomb is found to be empty, the body gone…”

That phrase “body gone” was like YES PERFECT—I hadn’t thought about title dropping BB until that point but “body gone” and “body back” seemed like a match made in heaven. This idea of “body gone” repeats for a second time and which leads us to the BB drop:

He approaches the mirror, jolts at the way he touches himself—more carefully than he’s ever been touched before. Who are you? he wants to say. He’d like to leave this place now, the club, Las Vegas, the earth. He’d like to buy himself a pet tarantula, run off a cliffside, eat a tub of ice cream with his bare hands. Why did he come here again? His mind is so quiet. This could be peace. But who is he? In Jeremiah’s bathroom he knew, but now there’s this stranger ahead of him, the person who must be him—someone’s chandelier earring grazing his jaw, the cowboy hat lopsided, mascara running down his cheeks even though he hasn’t cried. Where did you go? he mouths, but he knows. He’s disappeared also like Jesus in the tomb, his limbs vanishing one by one, his skin melting off his hands—body gone, body gone, body gone. He grabs his cheeks, panicked because he’s on fire, gold tossed into the crucible. He’s going to burn to ash. He’s going to need a burial soon. His face has been stolen, his breastbone and knuckles too. A month ago, someone spat him into a basket like his body was ripe for the offertory—body gone, body gone, body gone.

“Back,” Harrison says, nose grazing the spattered mirror. His chest swells, and maybe he is burning, and maybe he’s right here, hidden somewhere in the pinprick of his reflection. “Back,” he repeats. He isn’t thoughtful. He isn’t profound. Maybe that’s fine. He squeezes his tear-duct, sticks out his tongue. He’ll die eventually, let his body disappear, but not right now. “Body back, body back, body back.”

Basically, Harrison hates the idea of “body gone” because he KNOWS his body is “gone” too, disappeared in an interaction with the alleged divine (Lonan lol). He’s looking at himself for the FINAL time in 24kH (and remember, he does this A LOT in this chapter, so this is just an even bigger moment for him), and he doesn’t see someone he knows. He’s seeing a really hollow stranger & he asks himself “where did you go?” but knows already—his body is gone, part of it left with Lonan.

And he REALLY doesn’t like that. Hence, then muttering “body back, body back, body back” because he’s like “NO, my body is not gone, it is BACK, I am getting it back—it’s MINE now.”

Tooootally making a podcast episode on this lol tysm!