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heyitssmiller · 4 years ago

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Bewitched, Body and Soul

So... this happened. Blame the Discord. Basically, the premise is receiving a note from a stranger about having similar tastes in books, and my first thought was Finn/Leo. And now, around 24 hours later, this showed up in my word document. Hope y’all like it!! And don’t worry, I’ve already got a sequel planned with Logan ;)

All characters, of course, belong to the wonderful @lumosinlove

And, if you’re so inclined, check out my Masterlist if you enjoy this story! <3

CW: food/drink

Leo loved this bookstore. There was a west-facing windowfront that allowed all sorts of afternoon light to shine through, creating a large, warm sunspot right in Leo’s favorite armchair. The shelves were always neatly organized by category, there was a featured book of the week, and there was a coffee shop sequestered to one corner of the building. What else did he need in life? He’d spent countless hours here, sitting with a new book and a cup of coffee or tea and getting lost in whatever world he’d been transported to within the crisp pages and black ink. Being new to the city, there were probably better ways to make friends, but there was something so soothing, so comfortingly familiar about shutting off the worry in his mind and just focusing on the story unfolding in his hands.

But when his stomach growled loudly in protest, he figured he needed to put reading on hold.

There was a wrinkled, jagged-edged scrap of paper sitting on top of Leo’s book when he returned to his table, café pastry in hand. It hadn’t been there a second ago. Curiously, Leo set his food down and inspected the foreign paper. Messy, inelegant scrawl slanted across the page in deep blue ink. The lines were uneven and chaotic; the i’s weren’t even dotted, almost as if it took too much effort to go back and add them in. Leo found it strangely endearing. It read:

Hi!

I don’t think we’ve met, but based on your choice of literature I think we would make great friends. :)

- Carrot Top

Leo smiled, read it again, and looked around for the person who sent it but no one acknowledged him, seemingly lost in stories of their own. So he sat there, a smile still on his face as he got back to his book, using the note as a bookmark.

~~~

Finn couldn’t help himself when, a few days later, he left another note after seeing the guy with good taste in books again at the bookstore. He was at what must have been his usual table, seemingly right where Finn had left him. The only difference besides the clothes he was wearing was the book he was reading. Finn let himself linger on his profile, just for a second – the gentle slope of his nose, the way his curls rested against his forehead, how bright blue eyes scanned the pages below him.

Finn wasn’t one for love at first sight; that was for romance novels only. But instant attraction? Oh yeah. He was definitely there.

He picked up a small flyer from the front desk, flipped it over, and began to write.

And maybe it wasn’t a good way of, as the kids said these days, “shooting his shot”. But it was a start. And it was fun – the thrill of trying not to get caught, the anonymity. Sure, one day he’d maybe get up the courage to talk to him in person, but he was happy with this for now.

Hmm… haven’t read that one. Might have to get myself a copy!

- The Walking Freckle

After dropping the note off while the blond walked off to take a phone call, Finn tried to act casual as he stared sightlessly down at his own book instead of over at the cute stranger like he desperately wanted to.

Don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious…

If he was being completely honest, he didn’t really know where to go from here. Did the blond think the notes were creepy? Or weird? He never seemed to mind much, but�� well, a stranger was repeatedly leaving notes for him. What if it was making him uncomfortable? Would it make things better or worse if Finn introduced himself?

A snort came out, unbidden. Yeah. Right. That would go well. Finn could practically see it now: he would be clumsy and awkward, probably spilling coffee all over the guy’s book or – even worse – all over him. He’d scare him off for sure.

But at the same time, Finn wanted nothing more than to meet him. To sit down across the table from him and debate the points of the book he was reading, or give book recommendations, or just talk. About literally anything. Finn wasn’t a picky guy. He could sit there and let him speak for hours, absorbing any and all knowledge about him like a sponge. Did the corners of those bright, blue eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiled? Did his cheeks get all flushed when he was passionate about something, just like Finn’s? What was the story behind the soft-looking tuft of gray hair at his temple?

Who was he?

Finn was overflowing with questions, and desperate for the answers.

But he needed to go about this the right way, didn’t he? The last thing he wanted to do was screw this up. So he closed his book, propped his chin in his hand so that he could stare out the window, and started to plan.

~~~

The next note threw Leo for a bit of a loop. He’d saved his table with his coat thrown over one of the chairs and went up to the New Books section, surreptitiously keeping an eye on his table and hoping that he’d catch his note-sender red-handed.

Leo could’ve sworn that he’d looked away for half a second, but – well, he got distracted by a book, so it easily could’ve been five minutes for all he knew. This note was written on one of the café napkins, the ink bleeding through in some spots and a few small tears in the delicate material.

Nice choice! That book absolutely shattered my heart and then pieced it back together. The way she writes love lost just hurts so beautifully, doesn’t it?

I like your sweater by the way.

Fuck I hope that’s not creepy.

I’m not a stalker, I promise. I just think you’re really cute. And you have amazing taste in books. I’d like to learn more, if you’d let me. :)

But first, you have to figure out who I am! Good luck!

- Your Not-So-Secret Admirer in the Tortoiseshell Glasses

He smiled, wide and happy, and looked around for tortoiseshell glasses, red hair, and freckles. Those were the only three clues he had so far. So he quickly scanned the crowded café, looking for anyone who fit the description. The only one even close was a freckled, redheaded guy at the corner table, but no glasses.

That was a shame, too. He was stunning.

The mystery bibliophile must already be gone, then. Or hiding.

Looked like Leo had his work cut out for him. He did always like a challenge.

~~~

It probably wasn’t Finn’s best idea to take his glasses off. He couldn’t see a damn thing and was left squinting down at his book, trying to determine if what he was seeing was an F or a P.

That smile, though… he could’ve seen that dimpled smile from all the way across the street.

He never thought he’d be pining for a stranger like this, but then again – he wasn’t a complete stranger, was he? After all, you could learn a lot about a person by their book preferences. Finn wasn’t normally known for being a good judge of character – he was too optimistic, too unwilling to see the bad in people. But damn, did he hope he was right about this one.

~~~

Finn had probably been too bold with the note he’d just dropped off, but when he’d seen what book that his new maybe-friend was reading, he knew he couldn’t just pass up an opportunity like that.

He didn’t wait to see the reaction this time – he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He just left the short note on top of the book while the blond was at the café counter and booked it (pun definitely intended) out of there as fast as he could.

You have bewitched me, body and soul. <3

- Bambi

~~~

He should’ve waited. Leo’s reaction, all bashful smile and bright red face and pleased expression, would’ve been worth it.

~~~

Leo went back to the bookstore pretty much every day after that, intent on finding this person. Not only was this a fun little game they were playing, but it would be nice to finally have a friend in the city. He still didn’t know anyone besides his coworkers and… well, he was a little lonely. A friend would be nice, especially one who had a shared interest in books.

The only thing left to do was to find them.

Red hair, freckles, glasses, and big doe eyes.

Leo looked for the only four defining traits he had, methodically starting in the front of the store and weaving through isle after isle of bookshelves. When that proved unsuccessful he moved on to the café, gaze landing on the queue first before lurching to a stop at the glimpse of a shock of auburn hair in the far corner booth. Heart hammering in his chest, Leo used his height to his full advantage and peered over the line of people.

Freckles, Glasses, Big, doe eyes.

If he needed any more confirmation, the stranger – the very cute stranger – was reading the same book Leo had been reading a week ago. The one his anonymous friend said they hadn’t read yet.

It had to be him.

Leo didn’t let himself think about it too much – he knew he’d panic if he did. He just strode over and sat down across from him, setting his book down on the table with a quiet thud. The note-writer jumped a little, then lifted wide brown eyes to look up at him.

Oh, but he was gorgeous.

“So what part are you at?” Leo asked, eyes taking in everything they could now that he was close enough – that messy red hair that just barely curled at the ends, the hint of scruff on his jaw, brown eyes shifting from shade to shade in the afternoon light filtering through the window beside him. Soft, mesmerizing lips curved into the beginnings of a smile that Leo couldn’t help but be transfixed by. “Have you gotten to the part where Patroclus dies?”

Finn stared back, trying to look horrified but he knew he was smiling so much that they counteracted each other because, finally, he’d figured it out. “I can’t believe you’d break rule number one of having a reading buddy: don’t spoil the ending.”

Dimples.

“Oops.”

Finn was done for.

“I’m Finn,” he managed to stammer, aiming for his best smile and probably looking like he’d just tasted something awful instead.

“Leo,” his companion said with a warm smile. Then he frowned. “Wait, no. Go back. You can’t spoil the ending of a story that’s literally thousands of years old.” The blond leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee and watching in amusement as Finn gaped at him in horror. He could feel his cheeks and ears getting red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“That’s so not the point!”

Leo laughed, then motioned for Finn to state his case. And then Finn was off, forgetting all about his nervousness and tendency to be awkward. He ranted about that topic for… well, he didn’t really know how long, but it was a while. Leo didn’t even bat an eye, keeping pace well and interjecting with his own points calmly and collectedly – the gentle breeze to Finn’s tornado. He was smiling, too, even though sometimes he tried to hide it behind the rim of his coffee cup. And he was smart, Finn learned as they jumped from one topic to the next and the minutes ticked by. He knew a lot about literature, like Finn, but he could also make these random connections to all kinds of different topics that Finn would’ve never thought of, all while keeping up with Finn’s fast-paced brain and tendency to jump down rabbit holes.

It was an instant connection, the likes of which Finn had never experienced before. It was intoxicating. Finn felt like he could never get enough.

During a lull in between one conversation and the next, Leo pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it over, looking suddenly and inexplicably shy. Finn cocked his head confusedly, then unfolded the paper and looked down.

Would you like to go on a date sometime?

PS: I’m free tonight if you are. :)

- The Guy Who’s Been Crushing on You for Weeks

Finn’s heart threatened to burst. “Absolutely.” He hesitated, just for a second, then decided to go for it. “Are you free now? I know a pretty great café nearby.” With a wiggle of his eyebrows, he jerked his thumb at the bookstore café and earned a laugh. He wondered what he could do to earn another.

“Sounds perfect.”

They walked over to the counter together, the backs of their hands just barely brushing – it was still enough to make Finn hyperaware of every miniscule movement and get his pulse hammering. Leo was teasing Finn for his terrible eyesight in a soft, southern drawl – something Finn definitely wasn’t expecting but sure as hell wasn’t complaining about, his fingers deliberately playing with Finn’s now, and Finn knew it was going to be a good night. It was already a good night; how could it possibly get any better?

“What can I get for you?”

Leo and Finn looked up at the barista and their eyes widened in tandem as they took in thick chestnut waves, long, dark lashes, and bottle-green eyes. He wasn’t smiling, not necessarily. His expression was fairly neutral, all things considered – except for those eyes. If you stared at then long enough, you could see just the faintest whisper of amusement.

They both looked down slightly, searching for a nametag. There, in bold black letters, read:

Logan.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #leo knut #bookstore/coffee shop au #bewitched body and soul #cw: food #cw: drink

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melisa-may-taylor72 · 4 years ago

Photo

QUEEN BEFORE QUEEN

THE 1960s RECORDINGS

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

PART 4:

THE OPPOSITION

JOHN DEACON WAS THE QUIETEST MEMBER OF A MIDLAND-BASED FIVE-PIECE WHOSE GREATEST AMBITION WAS TO PLAY ANOTHER GIG.

Initial research John S. Stuart. Additional research and text: Andy Davis.

John Deacon was the fourth and final member to join Queen. He became part of that regal household 25 years ago this month, enrolling as the band’s permanent bassist in February 1971. His acceptance marked the culmination of a six-year ‘career’ in music, much of which he spent in an amateur, Leicestershire covers band called the Opposition.

From 1965 until 1969, Deacon and his schoolmates ploughed a humble, local furrow in and around their Midlands hometown, reflecting the decade’s mercurial moodswing with a series of names, images and styles of music. The most remarkable fact about the Opposition was just how unremarkable the group actually was.

Collectively, they were an unambitious crew: undertaking precisely no trips down to London to woo A&R men; winning only one notable support slot for the army of chart bands who visited Leicester in the ‘60s (opening for Reperata & the Delrons in Melton Mowbray in 1968); and managing even to miss out on the option of sending a demo tape to any of the nation’s record labels. The band’s saving grace is its solé recorded legacy: a three-track acetate — although even this was done for purely private consumption, and has rarely been aired outside the confines of their inner circle.

It is perhaps indicative of the Opposition’s modest outlook that their most promising bid for stardom, a beat contest, was called off before they had the chance to play in the finals. For John Deacon and friends, it seems, merely being in a band was reward enough.

Considering of all of this, it’s easy to imagine the response to the following story, related in the ‘60s to one of the Opposition’s guitarists, Ronald Chester:...[ ]

...[ ] “There was a teacher who worked at Beauchamp School, which John attended, who told fortunes. They went to see her one Saturday and were told, ‘John Deacon is going to be world famous and very, very rich. Of course, they all fell about laughing. She was determined that this was going to happen. But they all thought it was a joke."

What particularly amused Deacon’s colleagues was the unlikeliness of this scenario, given the plain facts of his demeanour. John was born in Leicester in 1951, the product of affluent, middle-class, middle England. As a youngster, he was known to his friends as ‘Deaks’ and grew up to be quiet and reserved, what Mark Hodkinson referred to in ‘Queen — ‘The Early Years’ as “a ghost of a boy".

“He is basically shy,” confirms Richard Young, the Opposition’s first guitarist/vocalist, and later keyboardist. “I suppose he was quieter than the rest of us — but he was fairly static with Queen if you look at him on stage.”

Ron Chester agrees: “John was quiet by nature. His sister, Julie, was the same. Once he got going, though, he wasn’t any different from anybody else. But on first approach, you really had to coax him out of his shell. We’d have to pick him up. He couldn’t walk down the road to meet us."

CONFIDENT

Despite any lack of personal dynamics, Deacon was a capable teenager: “He was very confident," recalls another of the band’s guitarists, David Williams. “But in a laidback sort of way. He didn’t have a problem with anything. ‘Yeah, I can do that’, he’d say. We used to call him ‘Easy Deacon’, not because of any sexual preferences, but because he’d say something was easy without it sounding big-headed. I remember saying to him once, I’m going to have to knock off the gigs a bit to revise for my ‘A’ levels. What about you?’ ‘No’, he said, ‘I don’t need to. I’ve never failed an exam yet, and I’ve never revised for one’. Ultimately, he was just confident, with a phenomenally logical mind. If he couldn’t remember something, he could work it out. And, of course, he got stunning results.”

John’s earliest interest was electronics, which he studied into adulthood. He also went fishing, trainspotting even, with his father. Then music took over. After dispensing with a ‘Tommy Steele’ toy guitar, John used the proceeds from his paper round to buy his first proper instrument, an acoustic, when he was about twelve. An early musical collaborator was a school mate called Roger Ogden, who like Roger Taylor down in Cornwall, was nicknamed ‘Splodge’. But his best friend was the Opposition’s future drummer, Nigel Bullen.

“I’d first got to know John at Langmore Junior School in Oadby, just outside Leicester, in either 1957 or 1958,’' recalls Nigel. “We were both the quiet ones. We started playing music together at Gartree High School, when we were about thirteen. We were inspired by the Beatles — they made everybody want to be in a group. John was originally going to be the band’s electrician, as he called it. He used to build his own radios, before we had any amps, and he fathomed a way of plugging his guitar into his reel-to-reel tape recorder. He was always the electrical boffin."

The prime mover in the formation of the group was another Oadby boy they met on nearby Uplands Park, Richard Young. “Richard was at boarding school," recalls Nigel Bullen. “He was always the kid with the expensive bike. He played guitar, and what’s more had a proper electric, with an amplifier. He instigated getting the band together. Initially, we rehearsed in my garage, and then anywhere we could. John played rhythm to begin with. He was a chord man, the John Lennon of the group, if you like."

SWITCH

Despite his later switch to the bass, Deacon’s technique on the guitar also developed, as Dave Williams reveals: “Later on, I remember he could play ‘Classical Gas’ on an acoustic, which was a finger-picking execise and no mean feat. It’s a bit like ‘McArthur Park’, a fantastic piece of music, and when I heard it, I thought, ‘Bloody hell. You dark horse!’ Because he never showed off."

The Opposition’s first bassist was another school friend of John’s called Clive Castledine. In fact, the group made its debut at a party at Castledine’s ouse on 25th September, 1965 (their first public performance took place the...[ ]

...[ ] following month at Gartree’s school hall). Clive looked good and appreciated the kudos of being in a group, but he wasn’t up to even the Opposition’s schoolboy standards. “I was the least proficient, to put it mildly,” he admitted to Mark Hodkinson.“His enthusiasm was 100%,” adds Richard Young, “but his actual playing ability was null, so we had a meeting and got rid of him.” Deacon took over, initially playing on his regular guitar, using the bottom strings. “John was good,” Young continues. “It was no problem for him to switch to bass. He hit the right notes at the beginning of the bar, and we were a better band for it. Whereas Clive made us sound woolly, as anyone who just plonked away on any old note would, John was solid.”

DIARY

Young turned out to be the Opposition’s archivist, keeping a diary of each gig played, the equipment used, and the amounts of money earned (as indeed did John Deacon). Richard’s diary documented the day Deacon — now, of course, bassist in one of the world’s most famous groups — first picked up his chosen instrument. “In an entry for 2nd April, 1966,” says Young, “it reads, ‘We threw Clive out on the Saturday afternoon. Had a practice in Deaks’ kitchen, and Deaks went on bass. Played much better.’ John didn’t have a bass, so we went down to Cox’s music shop in King Street in Leicester, and bought him an EKO bass for £60. I paid for it, but I think he paid me back eventually.”

“John’s bass style with the Opposition was the same as with Queen,” reckons Nigel Bullen. “He never used to play with a plectrum, which was unusual, but with his fingers, which meant that his right hand is drooped over the top of the guitar. Also, he plays in an upward fashion, which I’d never seen before, certainly when we were in Leicester. Over the years, I’ve watched many bass players adopt that style. I’d say he has been copied a lot. I’ve mentioned this to him, but he doesn’t agree.”

Clive Castledine wasn’t the last member of the band to be dismissed. “The vocal and lead guitar side of the Opposition was changing all the while,” recalls Nigel. “Myself, John, and Richard Young were always there — as were Dave Williams and Ron Chester later on — but we had a succession of other musicians who I can hardly remember now. There was a guy called Richard Frew in the very early days, and a young lad called Carl, but he didn’t fit in. After we began playing proper gigs, Richard decided he wasn’t happy with his singing and wanted to move onto keyboards, so we brought in Pete Bart (formerly with another local band, the Rapids Rave) as a guitarist and vocalist. He was good, but again, didn’t last long.”

“Bart was a bit of a rocker, while we were all mods,” remarks Dave Williams. “We were impressed by mod bands like the Small Faces and the original Who. Bart seemed to come from a different era altogether.”

“Deaks had the Parka with the fur collar,” remembers Ron Chester. “And short hair, a crew cut. Mirrors on his scooter.” Richard Young agrees: “John was more of a mod than us. But you couldn’t really pigeonhole the band, because our music went right across the board”.

”Buying Deacon his bass was no one-off, and Richard Young is remembered as the group’s benefactor. Being older than the others, he had a steady job working for his father’s electronics company in Leicester, which brought him a regular, and by all accounts, generous wage. He rarely thought twice before splashing out on equipment for the other members.

RECEIPTS

“Richard bought me a P.A.,” recalls David Williams. “But he didn’t ask, he used to think that the group needed it. He’d buy it and then say, ‘You owe me this’. My mum used to get really annoyed. She’d was at that going- through-my-pockets stage, probably looking for contraceptives. She once found a receipt from Moore and Stanworth’s, a local music shop. It was for a Beyer microphone, which cost about £30. I was still at school, getting pocket money, and my mum said, ‘What on earth is this?!’ Receipts on the Sunday dinner table, that sort of thing. It was good, though. The group needed it.”

“I was dead serious about the band,” claims Young, who switched to organ with the arrival of Williams in July 1966. “Perhaps more so than anybody else. I could see it going nowhere if money wasn’t pumped into it.”

“Dick Young was an accomplished organ player,” adds Dave, “and he improved the group quite a lot. He always had plenty of dosh, and a car. But he was totally mad, a crazy bloke. He’d come round with an organ one week, then next week, he’d have a better one. He ended up with a Farfisa, with one keyboard on it, then one with two keyboards — one above the other. Then he had a Hammond, an L 100. which was really heavy. Then he had a ‘B’ series one. The ‘L’ was top-of-the-range and he sawed it in half to make it easier to carry!”

Dave Williams helped to improve the group as well. “He was at school with us,” says Nigel Bullen, “but in another band, who we always looked up to.” That band was the Leeds-based Outer Limits (who went on to issue several singles — without Dave — in the late ‘60s). “I joined the Opposition after they asked me to watch them and tell them what I thought,” recounts Dave. “The Outer Limits were older lads, all mods, but I was after something a bit more easy going, and the Opposition were my own age. They were okay, but I first saw them at John’s house, when they were still practising in bedrooms, and they were absolutely awful. I said, ‘Have you thought of tuning up?’ They said they had. But it sounded like they were playing in different keys — totally horrendous. It was so funny. They were so conscientious, they’d all learned their bits, but hadn't tuned up to each other. That was my first tip.”

“Our first proper gig was supporting a local band, the Rapids Rave, at Enderby Coop Hall,” recalls Nigel Bullen. “They used to play at this village hall every week. and then we ended up doing it every week for quite some time.” Richard’s diary records the Opposition’s debut taking place on 4th December 1965, and that the band’s fee was £2. Thereafter, they began to offer their Services in the local ‘Oadby & Wigston Advertiser’, which led to bookings in youth clubs and village halls in local hot-spots like Kibworth, Houghton-on- the-Hill, Thurlaston and Great Glen.

SCHOOL WORK

By spring 1966, the Opposition were playing every weekend, school work permitting. The peaks and troughs of their career are illustrated by the following memorable gigs: one at St. George’s Ballroom, Hinckley, on 23rd June 1967, when just two people turned up and the band went home after a couple of numbers; and a September appearance in a series of shows at U.S. Airforce Bases in the Midlands, at which they were required to play for four-and-half hours with just two twenty-minute breaks. It was nothing if not diverse.

“It didn’t seem to matter what you played,” says Dave. “People would clap simply because you were making music. They never said, ‘Do you do Motown, or soul stuff?’ ” The band’s repertoire initially consisted of chart sounds and the poppier end of the R&B spectrum. “Although we were inspired by the Beatles, we never did any of their songs,” claims Nigel. “But we covered the Kinks, the Yardbirds, and things like Them’s ‘Gloria’, and the Zombies’ ‘She’s Not There’.

They also altered their name slightly to the New Opposition, which they unveiled at the Enderby Coop Hall. “The name-change was decided overnight, when John moved from rhythm to bass guitar,” recounts Richard, whose diary records the date of the transition as 29th April 1966. Interestingly, though, it makes no mention of another local group also called the Opposition, long thought to have been the reason for Deacon’s crew adopting the ‘New’. The change did act as an impetus for further development, however, instigated by Dave Williams, who soon took over as the group’s lead vocalist.

“When I joined they were doing all Beach Boys stuff,” he recalls, “and I think I may have brought in a little credibility. In the Outer Limits, I’d been playing John Mayall, the Yardbirds, that sort of thing, plus that group was into really good soul like the Impressions, and fantastic vocal bands from the States. So I had a broad musical knowledge by then, whereas the Opposition had been a bit poppy.” Appropriately, the words “Tamla” and “Soul” were now added to the Opposition’s ads and calling cards.

Towards the end of 1966, the New Opposition were enhanced further by the arrival of Ron Chester, who’d previously played with Dave Williams in the Outer Limits, as well as in an earlier band, the Deerstalkers. “Ron Chester was a bit eccentric,” claims Richard Young. “He never used to go anywhere without his deerstalker. He was a really good guitarist (“stunning”, adds Dave Williams). We were probably at our best when Ron was in the band.”

On 23rd October 1966, the New Opposition entered the local Midland Beat Contest. They won their heat, landing themselves a place in the semifinals on 29th January 1967. They won this, too, and steeled themselves for the finals, which were due to be held on 3rd March 1967, when they were to be pitched against...[ ]

...[ ] an act called Keny. The stars of the show would have been the nearest the Opposition came to having a rival: an outfit called Legay. (A year later, incidentally, this band issued a now collectable single, “No One” (Fontana TF 904,£80J.) Unfortunately, for all concerned, however, the contest never took place. “That was a fiasco,'' laughs Ron. “Somehow we won those heats, but in fact, I don’t remember seeing anybody else playing. I don’t know whether we won by default or not. After that, they pulled the plug on the competition — probably because they knew we’d be playing again!”.

CASINO

“The heats took place in a club in Leicester called the Casino, which was the place to play,” adds Nigel. “The guy who ran the competition was an agent for the club. His company was called Penguin (or P.S) Promotions and he walked like a penguin too, with his feet sticking out. The final was going to be held in the De Montford Hall, which is still the main venue in Leicester. We thought, ‘Crumbs, this is it, perhaps we might make the big time.’ But the guy did a runner with all the money — people had to pay to come to the heats. So the final was called off.”

David Williams wasn’t too fussed, as he scored another prize that night: “I remember taking a girl back to Dick’s car on the strength of us winning our heat. I said, ‘Can I borrow your keys, Dick? He said, ‘What for? You can’t drive!’ “

Were the New Opposition — or the Opposition, as they dropped the ‘New’ again in early 1967 — left in limbo by the cancellation of the Beat Contest? Having achieved the most public recognition of their talents so far, were they disappointed with the loss of the chance to prove themselves further?

“No. It was almost insignificant,” reckons Ron. “We didn’t really look upon it as a stairway to stardom.” And what would John Deacon have thought? “Nothing really,” suggests Chester. “ ‘It’s cancelled. What are we doing next, then?’ That would have been about the depth of it. We were a village band, all gathering at the church hall to try and improve our abilities. The financial aspect of it wasn’t in the forefront of our minds. We were more concerned with our music, and if we could get a booking doing it as well, to pay off some of the equipment, then that was a real bonus. Three bookings a week was enough for us while we were working or still at school.” Despite any dodgy dealings, history does have the Penguin promoter to thank for the only professionally-taken photograph of the Opposition. (“We didn’t go much on photos in the band,” remembers Dave Williams.) On Tuesday, 31st January 1967, two days after winning the semi-finals, the ‘Leicester Mercury’ dispatched a staff photographer over to Richard Young’s parents’ house in Oadby. Here, the group lined-up in the front room, looking more like refugees from 1964, rather than 1967. The only indications of the actual date are perhaps Ron Chester’s deerstalker hat and the ridiculous length of David Williams’ shirt collars — seven inches, no less, from neck to nipple.

“Dave was very extrovert,” recalls Nigel. “But we all had those silk shirts with the great long collars made by our mums and grandmas for our stage gear.” Dave admits: “Our clothes were all a bit mixed up. We had silk shirts with tweed jackets — which were fashionable for a while — and bell-bottoms. Musically, we were pretty good, better than...[ ]

...[ ] most of the local bands around that time, but we had this squeaky-clean, schoolboy image which let us down. I used to get frustrated when we were billed with other bands, and they’d all play with so many wrong chords but had a better image and still the punters applauded. Were they stupid? We were still at school — we didn’t leave until we were eighteen — and weren’t allowed to grow our hair long”.

“After the mod thing,” he continues, “long hair became really important. Bands were growing their hair right down their backs. I remember getting to one gig with John and Nigel a year or so later, and the other group were already on. And when they saw us they turned round and said, ‘Look! They’ve got no hair!’. We were quite upset about that”.

“We also went through the flower-power look,” Dave adds. “And then we got into those little jumpers without any sleeves that Paul McCartney used to wear, the ones so small that half your stomach showed. And then it was grandad shirts without the collars and flares.” Ron Chester: “The flowery shirts and flared trousers were everywhere. We looked like a right shower of poofters. But so did everybody else. You stood out if you didn’t wear them.”

1967 also heralded the arrival of an additional attraction to the Opposition’s stage show: two go-go dancers. At least, it did if the existing literature on the subject is to be believed. “I vaguely remember it,” admits Richard, “but speaking to Nig, neither of us can recal who those dancers were”.

Dave Williams throws some light on the subject: “They were the jet-set girls of the sixth form, they came from the big houses. They came to a couple of gigs and just started dancing. Somebody who booked us for the following week actually advertised us ‘with go-go girls’. But they were never really part of the show.”

ART

On 16th March, 1968 for a gig at Gartree School, the Opposition changed their name once again. “We called ourselves Art,” reveals Nigel, “because Dave was arty, that is, he was training as an artist. It was as simple as that.” Dave agrees: “It was my idea, because I’d been doing art at school.” Nigel Bullen was aware of another band using that name around the same time (the pre-Spooky Tooth outfit), but assuming them to be American, reckoned they’d be no confusion. As the Leicester-based Art never made it to London, there wasn’t.

Despite wording like “A time to touch and feel, to taste and experience, to hear and understand” appearing on the group’s tickets, Richard maintains that Art was “just the same band” as before. “Nothing changed."

“It was mutton dressed up as lamb, really,” admits Ron Chester. “We thought if we were called something different, people might come because they were curious. But it didn’t make a lot of difference. The audiences were captive at the places we played anyway. There was nowhere else to go on a Friday or Saturday night. Everyone used to roll up to see whoever was on, whether they’d heard of them or not.”

1968 was the year psychedelia caught up with many provincial British bands. The Art were no different, but their acknowledgement of what had been last year’s scene in London was via sight rather than sound. Their light shows seem to have been particularly memorable, as Dave Williams explains: “They were brilliant. We used the projectors from school, filled medicine bottles with water and oil, and projected through them to get this lovely golden, amber backdrop. As the image came out upside down, when we poured in some Fairy Liquid, it dropped straight through in a blob, but came out on the wall like a giant green mushroom cloud. It was amazing, and we had about four of them at the back, projecting over the band.”

John Deacon was party to another of Dave’s exploits. “One day,” recalls Williams, “John and I bought a 100-watt P.A. — which was pretty big for those days — and took it into the lecture theatre full of kids at Beauchamp School (which Deacon had attended since September 1966) for our version of Arthur Brown’s ‘Fire’. We cranked it up as loud as we could, put the light show on, and let off these smoke bombs, which were DDT pellets we’d got from the chemist. All the kids started choking, and then the headmaster walked in...[ ]

...[ ] with a load of governors. You could see the fury in his face. One of the governors asked what we were doing. ‘It’s a demonstration in sound and light, sir,’ I said. ‘We’re using these ink bottles turned upside down, but we’re a bit worried about these DDT pellets so we might knock the smoke on the head, but we’re still experimenting.’ And he fell for it!”.

INFLUENTIAL

Towards the end of 1968, a crop of new groups began to have a profound effect on the maturing schoolboys: Jethro Tull, the Nice, Taste, and in particular Deep Purple. Ron: “We used to buy Purple records and learn to play them. We’d seen John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers and the Downliners’ Sect in Leicester, the Nice, King Crimson. These sort of groups. We learned a lot from just watching them. They were influential. There was always a big discussion in the band as to whether we should do a particular song. Once we’d decided that, there’d be another big discussion as to how we should do it. Everybody had their say.”

Hair, too, had finally began to grow: “John grew his quite long,” recalls Ron. “We all had longish hair, but not shoulder length. We couldn’t look too unkempt for the normal side of life, but we didn’t want to be too prissy for the other end of the spectrum. That was when we started playing universities, and we went a bit heavier. The audiences were far more serious minded about music and more enthusiastic. In some of the youth clubs we’d been playing, the audience would be moving around on roller skates, or peeling bananas all over the place, things like that”.

“We felt we were making an impression towards the last year or two of the band,” he continues. But it went no further: “We were at school, some of us had jobs, and there was an element of common sense overriding what we would have liked to have done. None of us wanted to chuck in our apprenticeships or courses. If we’d had a flair for writing our own material, we might have taken off. But we just played what was popular, nothing different from most other groups. That wasn’t a basis on which to launch ourselves. So it never happened."

“We didn’t think that far ahead,” admits Richard Young. “I just thought of playing and getting repeat bookings. John was probably the least ambitious of all of us, to be honest. I think he felt that there was no mileage in what we were doing, although it was good fun. I think he had the impression that this was a hobby, a phase he was going through.”

Sometime in the Sixties, possibly 1969, but maybe earlier, Art recorded an acetate. Whatever the date, the crucial point is that John Deacon was present at the session. “We weren't asked to do it,” recalls Nigel. “We just wanted to make a disc. I think it cost us about five shillings.”

The venue was Beck’s studio, thirty miles south east of Oadby in Wellingborough, Northamptonshire. “I’d never been in a studio before and it seemed awesome, really,” recalls Dave Williams. “It was a fairly decent-sized room for acoustics. It was all nicely low-lit, with lots of screens. The guy knew what he was doing.” Richard Young was less impressed, though: I’ve been in studios all my life,” he says. “That was just another session. Nothing about it stood out.”

The “guy” Dave remembered was engineer Derek Tomkins, who informed the group that they could record three tracks in the time allotted. “We’d only gone in there with two, ‘Sunny’ and ‘Vehicle’,” says Nigel, “and we didn’t want to waste the opportunity, so Richard knocked up a little instrumental called Transit 3’ — named after our new van, the third one — right there in the studio. Although we were purely a covers band, everybody had a bash at writing, but we never did anything of our own on stage. The exception was Transit 3’, which was incorporated into the set after this session.”

“ Transit 3’ was about about the only track we ever wrote," reckons Richard Young (“Heart Full Of Soul”, as reported in ‘As It Began’, is in fact a Graham Gouldman nurnber). “I initially had the idea, but I can’t really remember anything about it. It’s very basic. It wouldn’t take a great deal of effort to write something like that.” To the objective observer, “Transit 3”, taped in mono but well recorded, is a fairly uncomplicated, organ-led scale- hopper, reminiscent of Booker T & the MGs.

“Everybody was listening to ‘Green Onions’,” confirms Nigel, “so Booker T would have been an influence there.” But for all that, it’s well- played, with memorable lead and twangy, wah-wah guitar passages courtesy of Dave Williams. And, crucially, John Deacon’s thumping bass is plainly audible throughout. On this evidence, the Opposition were clearly a tight, confident outfit. “Transit 3” could have been incorporated into any swinging ‘60s film soundtrack, and no one would have jumped up shouting, “Amateurs”!.

UNFAMILIAR

The other two tracks, covers of Bobby Hebb’s ‘Sunny' and the more obscure, soul- tinged ‘Vehicle’ (later a hit for the Ides of March), featured a vocalist, but an unfamiliar one: another of the Opposition’s fleeting frontmen. “We had a singer for a while called Alan Brown,” recalls Nigel. “He came and went fairly quickly. He was good, really good. Too good for us, I think. That wasn’t him saying that. We just knew it.”

On both songs, Brown is in deep, soulful voice, sounding not unlike a cross between Tom Jones and the early Van Morrison — if such an amalgam can be imagined. The Art’s reading of “Vehicle” is edgy and robust, dominated by Richard Young’s distinctive keyboards and Nigel Bullen’s bustling drum work. Dave Williams is again in fine form, delivering more sparkling wah-wah guitar, while on the cassette copy taped from Nigel Bullen’s acetate, at least, John’s bass is very prominent, over-recorded in fact, booming in the mix.

“Sunny” goes one better, breaking into jazzy 3/4 time halfway through, before slotting back into the more traditional 4/4. It’s an imaginative arrangement, with alternate soloing from both Dave and Richard, while the whole track is underpinned by swirls of Hammond organ and John Deacon’s pounding bass.

“We did ‘Sunny’ as part of our stage set,” says Nigel, “but I don’t recall us ever going into the jazzy bit. That’s quite interesting. We might have talked about that before we went into the studio, but I think it was just for this session. Dave had two guitars, a six-string and a twelve-string, or it could even have been twin-necked. I still quite like the wah-wah he played on that track. By this time Richard would have been onto his second or third organ — he was heavily into Hammonds and Leslies."

Operating as they did in a fairly ambition- free zone, and having prepared the listener for a mundane set of recordings with their trademark laid-back approach, Art’s acetate comes as something of a revelation. Let any bunch of today’s schoolboys loose in a studio for an afternoon and defy them to come up with something half as good!

Just two copies of the Art disc are known to have survived. John Deacon’s mother is believed to own one and Nigel Bullen has the other. “I’d forgotten all about this record,” admits Nigel. “We know that one copy was converted to an ashtray!. We stubbed out cigarettes on Richards at rehearsal one night.” Although treated with anything but respect at the time, the importance of the disc is now apparent to Nigel Bullen: “This is probably John Deacon’s first recording, apart from tracks he did in his bedroom on his reel-to-...[ ]

...[ ] reel, which are probably long gone. Although, knowing John, they’re probably not!”

The beginning of the end for Art came in June 1969, when John Deacon left Beauchamp. With a college course lined up in London, his days with the band were obviously numbered. He played his final gig with the group on 29th August at a familiar venue, Great Glen Youth and Sports Centre Club. By October, he’d moved to London to study electronics at Chelsea College of Technology, part of the University of London.

Another blow was dealt in November, when the band's lynchpin, Richard Young, left to join popular local musician Steve Fearn in Fearn’s Brass Foundry.

“They were a Blood, Sweat and Tears-type of group,” recalls Richard, “and paid better money than I’d been used to. I was out five nights a week, on about £3 per night, against an average of about £10 between us.” The previous year, Richard had played session keyboards on the Foundry’s two Decca singles: “Don’t Change It” (F 12721, January 1968, £10) and “Now I Taste The Tears” (F 12835. September 1968, £8).

SAVAGE

Ron Chester departed shortly afterwards, and gave up music: “I left in the early 70s, after John Deacon moved to London. John was replaced by a bass player was called John Savage, who unsettled me. He had different tastes and drove us a bit hard. His approach was totally different from Deaks's, and he was much more interested in the financial side of things. We’d all been mates before, we didn't just knock about for the band. It just wasn’t the same.”

Nigel, Richard and Dave pushed on into 1970 with the new bassist, changing the band’s name again, this time to Silky Way. They returned to Beck’s studio to record a cover of Free’s “Loosen Up” with another vocalist, Bill Gardener, but that was the band’s last effort. Dave left after falling into Nigel’s drumkit, drunk on stage at a private party one Christmas. “I waited for them to pick me up the next day,” he recalls sheepishly, “but they never carne.”

Richard and Nigel moved into a dinner- dance type outfit called the Lady Jane Trio — “Corny, or what!”, laughs Bullen — but Nigel left music altogether soon afterwards to concentrate on his college work. Richard turned professional, moving into cabaret with the Steve Fearn-less Brass Foundry, before forming a trio called Rio, finding regular work on the holiday camp and overseas cruise circuit. In the late ‘70s, he joined a touring version of the Love Affair.

Down in London, John Deacon caught a glimpse of his future world-beating musical partners as early as October 1970, when he saw the newly-formed Queen perform at College of Estate Management in Kensington. “They were all dressed in black, and the lights were very dim too,” he told Jim Jenkins and Jacky Gunn in ‘As It Began’, “All I could really see were four shadowy figures. They didn’t make a lasting impression on me at the time.”

While renting rooms in Queensgate, John formed a loose R&B quartet with a flatmate, guitarist Peter Stoddart, one Don Cater on drums and another guitarist remembered only as Albert. The new band was hardlv a great leap forward from Art: they wrote no originals, and when asked to perform their only gig at Chelsea College on 21st November 1970, supporting Hardin & York and the Idle Race, they hastily billed themselves — in a rare fit of self-publicity for the quiet Oadby boy — as Deacon.

A few months later in early 1971, John was introduced to Brian May and Roger Taylor by a mutual friend, Christine Farnell, at a disco at Maria Assumpta Teacher Training College. They were looking for a bassist. John auditioned at Imperial College shortly afterwards. Roger Taylor recalled Queen’s initial reaction to Deacon in ‘As It Began’: “We thought he was great. We were so used to each other, and so over the top, we thought that because he was quiet he would fit in with us without too much upheaval. He was a great bass player, too — and the fact that he was a wizard with electronics was definitely a deciding factor!”

How did the members of the Art/Opposition back in Leicester, view John’s success with Queen? “It wasn’t sudden”, says Ron Chester. “First we heard he’d got into another group. We couldn’t believe that — were they deaf? There were all these sort of jokes going along. Then we heard he’d got a recording contract and the next thing he had a record out. It was a gradual progression. No one dreamed he would end up the way he did.”

“I don’t think we expected success for any of us" admits Nigel Bullen. “Richard maybe. He was the first one to go professional. But when John left for London to go to college, he left all his kit here. I thought that was the end of it for him. He had absolutely no intention of continuing. His college course was No.1. It was only after he kept seeing adverts for bass players in the ‘Melody Maker’ that he became interested again.”

He also seemed to lose some of that ‘Easy Deacon’ touch which so impressed Dave Williams in the ‘60s. “He’d ring up these bands,” continues Nigel, “but when he found they were a name act, he bottle out. When he went to auditions for anonymous bands, where he would queue up with about thirty other bass players, he had a bit of confidence. He just wanted to play in a decent band. Once I heard what Queen had recorded at De Lane Lea, and John played me the demo of their first album, I thought they were well set.”

CABARET

By early 1973, Dave Williams had forsaken a career in animation to join Highly Likely, a cabaret outfit put together by Mike Hugg and producer Dave Hadfield on the back of their minor hit, “Whatever Happened To You (The Likely Lads Theme)”. While Dave was in the band, they recorded a follow-up single which wasn’t released, before evolving into a glam rock outfit, Razzle, which later become the Ritz, who issued a few singles. “During Queen’s early days, before they’d had any real success, John came to see us once,” recalls Dave, “and said, ‘I wish I was in a band like this which could actually play some gigs’.” Dave concludes: “I remember John coming round once around that time, saying I’ve got a demo’. ‘So have I!’, I said. So we put his on first, and the first track was ‘Keep Yourself Alive’. My mouth dropped wide open and I thought. ‘Bloody hell! What a great track’. I remember saying that the guitarist was as good as Ritchie Blackmore — who was still our hero then — and thinking ‘They’re serious about this. This is the real thing’.”

RECORD COLLECTOR Nº 198 FEBRUARY 1996

⬅PREVIOUS: SMILE

https://melisa-may-taylor72.tumblr.com/post/639672109315014656/queen-before-queen-the-1960s-recordings

��NEXT: IBEX, WRECKAGE & SOUR MILK SEA

@natromanxoff, @mephisto92, @moviestorian, @x5vale, @39-brian, @onegoldenglance, @crosmopolitan, @an-abyss-called-life, @his-majesty-king-mercury, @i-live-for-queen, @brian-39-may, @toomuchlove-willkillyou, @brimaymay, @sail-away-sweet-sister, @drummerqueenrmt, @old-fashioned-roger-boy, @briianmaay, @inui-mycroft, @deacytits, @iminlovewithrogscar, @drowseoftaylor, @brianmayislongaway, @balticlover, @astrophysicist-guitar-god, @miez-lakatz, @brianmayoucease, @jesus-in-a-life-boat, @aslongasthereismusic, @roger-taylors-car, @silapril, @sherrifanciesfriskyfreddie, @tenderbri, @brianmydear, @thosequeenboys, @millionairewaltz-carpediem, @painandpleasure86, @bribrifrenchfry, @xlucylennonx, @a-night-at-the-abbey-road, @inthedayswhenlandswerefew, @madformeddowstaylor, @queenrogertaylorfan, @let-roger-get-a-lunch, @queen-for-life, @rethought, @drivenbybrianmay @mymakeupmaybeflaking, @old-but-still-a-child, @let-roger-get-a-lunch, @warriorteam1924, @funnydressesweirdhairanddance, @painkiller80, @thefanhuman13, @yourtieddownmother, @hgmercury39, @brimi-stardust, @thefairyfellermercury, @retroromantics, @sailawaysweetbrimi, @sophiaintheskywithdiamonds, @holybrianmaywritingbear, @lydiannode, @39-yellow-daffodils , @ure-gonna-loveme-when-u-seeme, @kaykaybeachgirl, @foxmonkey, @deakysgurl, @redspecialandclogsandcurls, @briansrainbowsocks-deactivated2, @delilahmay39, @ohmybribri, @bless-the-queen, @everythingaboutfreddie, @doitforthevine67, @recordsoftheseventies, @rhysjoejoshtomfarisblog, @tenementfunsterwithpurpleshoes, @drummah-in-a-rocknroll-band, @beatlegirl1968, @maylorsqueen, @autumnscenemcyt, @gralto, @alittlepeoplemagic, @rainbowsockbrian, @frejudy, @drivenbybri, @yourlocalmusicalprostitute, @saik-ava, @omb-xx, @sassymaylor, @somekindofroger, @starlightmay, @freddiemercuryismylife, @sunshine112, @chrysochromulina, @glitteryloveravenue, @deakyislife51, @0-primejive-0, @just-a-skinny-lad, @bluewillowmom, @sassiesillie, @stesichoreanpalinode, @farrokhbulsaramercury, @tayloredofqueen, @rushingheadlong, @izzy-is-slightly-mad, @scandalacious, @0-my-fairy-queen-0 @39-volunteers-to-space@zodiacaldust, @deakytaylor, @queenband70s, @deakyeveryday, @drivenbybrimay @70smay

#Queen Before Queen #Pre-Queen Series #John Deacon #The Opposition #🎤🎵🎸👑⭐

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spaceorphan18 · 3 years ago

Text

99 Perspectives #44

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

[Ao3]

***

The Tadpole Gay (Goodbye)

Sitting on the courtyard bench, pouring over his freshly bought copy of the Thunderclap - McKinley High’s yearbook, is Nestor Smalls; a freshman whose first year of high school is coming to a close in less than a few weeks. It’s slightly warm out for May - but Nestor is happy with the way he looks. He found the perfect vest to go with his dark, designer jeans. And the giraffe brooch he found at a rummage sale is a delightful match for his brightly orange newsie cap. An unexpected, yet welcome addition to his collection. He couldn’t be happier.

His boyfriend, Jon, who could hardly be wearing anything considered fashionable, sits next to him with a grunt. “Can you believe those two?” Jon nods to the stairwell, where Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson are chatting with each other.

Well - it’s more like intense flirting, but Nestor has never seen them ever be more physical than a slight touch. Not that it matters. Nestor adores both of them. Kurt has been his fashion icon from the moment he stepped into McKinley’s halls. And Blaine is so dreamy. He’s well aware of Jon’s disdain, however.

“Why don’t they just fuck and spare us all the over-the-top drama of a couple of gays daring to touch each other,” Jon says, with a bit of scorn on his tongue. “Could they be any more prudish? No one is going to beat them up.”

“I’m pretty sure they are dating,” Nestor says. He looks down at his yearbook, to the open page of the glee club, where Kurt and Blaine are sitting front and center. Nestor would join - but he can’t sing at all - and knows better. Still, unlike Jon, and his sour attitude, he finds them inspiring. “You don’t know that. Just because nothing has happened to us, and we’re not that much more careful, doesn’t mean bad things didn’t happen to them.” Nestor had heard the rumors from the previous year’s prom. And his online friends have told him horror stories from places they live less evolved than Lima.

“It doesn’t make them any less annoying,” Jon says, rolling his eyes. “Do they have to be so stereotypical? I mean one looks like he’s been fired by Tim Gunn for incorporating too much Elizabeth Taylor into his look and the other screams I have the sex appeal of a gay front man for a teeny-bopper boy band. They might as well be a couple of sexless lesbians.”

Nestor angrily slams his yearbook shut. Jon’s been getting under his nerves a lot lately, but this is the final straw. “You know what - I had a really good year this year. I shouldn’t have - because we’re freshman in high school, and statistically, it’s actually supposed to suck. But mine didn’t - do you want to know why?”

Jon looks at him, a bit shocked at the outburst. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re going to go on another one of your diatribes.”

That one struck a nerve. “I figured out it was okay to be me,” Nestor says with strong conviction. “I’m pretty weird and out there and wildly gay, but I’m okay with that.” He’s all but screaming - people are looking, but he doesn’t care. “People look at me funny and call me names, but still, I’m okay with that. Because there are a couple of people on this planet that have shown me that it’s okay to be as outlandish and unique as I am. And not just people on TV - and not people pre-approved by you to be gay icons; but people I see in my everyday life. I don’t care if you consider them the right or wrong kind of queer. I don’t care that you find them an insult to a community that you are barely a part of yourself. I don’t care that you seem to be offended by every little thing they do. And I doubt they care either.”

“I cannot believe you’re trying to defend them…” Jon tries to cut in, but Nestor isn’t done.

“So, I had a great first year of high school,” Nestor continues. “I figured out what I want to do with my life. I got a boyfriend. I had sex. And I’m pretty confident in myself that I realized that I don’t owe you anything for being my first. There are plenty of gays in the world - hell Lima even, that are better to be with than your judgmental ass. So, fuck you. I’m dumping you. And then I’m going to do the one thing I haven’t had the guts to do this year. Tell a couple of my personal idols thank you - and ask for their autographs. Fuck what you think.”

Nestor, feeling quite exhilarated, gets to his feet, and without giving a glance to his now ex-boyfriend, walks across the courtyard in hopes of getting an autograph from two people he admires: Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson.

#99 perspectives #s.o. writes things #and that's a wrap on season 3 #klaine #klaine fic

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rein-ette · 3 years ago

Note

If you still fancy a drabble prompt, I've always seen Canada and England having a very warm and comfortable relationship- if it interests you, maybe a prompt could be one going to the other for advice about something?

It does indeed interest me, thank you for the prompt! I've had a bunch of Mattie-Arthur scenarios swimming around in my mind for a long time, so I'm glad to have a chance to put one of them down on paper. As always, this was supposed to be a "drabble" but magically lengthened itself the more I thought about it -- I don't think drabbles are supposed to have historical notes.

"Come in."

Matthew shifted his pile of papers to his other arm and pushed through the door of Arthur's office. Inside, the fading afternoon light illuminated the rich mahogony floor and danced on the spines of the hundreds of books that lined each wall. Remembering the excitement he felt when he was first allowed to peruse these shelves, Matthew couldn't help but smile softly to himself.

Arthur himself sat at his desk, one ankle propped up on his knee as he stared idly out the window. Matthew could just barely see a white trim of bandages that peeked out from underneath his collar. That dimmed his smile. It had been more than two years now since the war had ended in Europe, but Arthur still looked as gaunt as he did during the days when engines still roared over London and — though Matthew had not thought it possible — even more exhausted. The worn smile Arthur offered him said as much, and Matthew pushed away a twinge of guilt.

Arthur jerked his chin at the seat in front of his desk and Matthew sat, stacking his documents in a neat pile in front of him. Instead of immediately going through them, however, he gazed worriedly at his old guardian.

"How are you feeling?"

Arthur sighed and shifted in his seat, dropping his leg and turning to face Matthew. He stared at the ancient, ink-stained wood of his desk for a while, and Matthew could almost see the warring emotions on Arthur's face as his desire to be honest fought with his lingering instinct to conceal and protect Matthew from the worries that plagued him. But because they were past such pretenses, he finally murmured, "Tired."

Matthew hummed sympathetically in response. There wasn't much he could do or say to change that, and he expected the reports he brought would only exhaust Arthur further. So he merely asked, "Are you remembering to apply the salve twice a day?"

Matthew flushed a little when Arthur rolled his eyes at him good-naturedly, realizing he was fussing like Arthur was his child, instead of the other way around. Thankfully, Arthur spared him further embarrasment by only answering a tad dryly that yes, he was actually capable of following simple instructions. Matthew mumbled out a reply before deciding that he might as well get on with what he was actually here for, knowing Arthur had never been one for small talk. Clearing his throat, he slid the top half of his stack of papers across the desk.

"They sent you a copy of Lord Mountbatten's plan, I think with annotations, though I haven't gone through the whole thing. And this part is the proposal for the national flag. Also," he pulled a cream letter from the pile and passed that over as well, "India asked that you be there personally, in August," he finished.

Arthur hummed and rifled through the papers. Matthew couldn't quite read his expression. After a few moments, he stacked them again and placed them to the side, with the letter on top. "Thanks. I'll go through them later."

Matthew nodded. "And here I just summarized the letters and stuff from the others. I've left them back in the box, in case you wanted to read them yourself. There's not too much going on really. That you don't already know."

"Yes. Thank you. This is a great help, Matthew, truly."

"You're welcome," Matthew murmured, and watched Arthur scan the notes before setting them aside as well. His eyes traced the shadows underneath the other nation's eyes, before dropping back down to the cotton bandages around his neck. He wondered if Arthur was sleeping at all.

"Is there anything else I can do? I'm heading back to Ottawa next week, but if you need me to take over some stuff for a bit, I can stay longer —"

"No, no, it's fine," Arthur cut him off. "Like I said, I'm just a little tired, that's all. But all this," he waved a hand at the documents , "isn't anything new."

Matthew frowned. "Isn't it?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean, I know the paperwork isn't new, but, these," he drew a breath, "reforms, and the war, of course. That's — I mean. No one's, you know, had to deal with that, before."

Arthur frowned, and traced a finger along the edge of his desk, before sighing, "No, I guess not." He turned again to look out the window behind him. After several long moments, he said, quietly, "But it's not entirely unexpected, either. I just—" The corner of his lips jerked down, and for a moment it seemed as if he was almost in pain. He drew in a breath, and said, "It's just. Difficult. That's all. To—but." He stopped again, grimaced, as if at his own ineloquence. Finally, he said, slowly, as carefully as if he was embroidering the words onto the air between them, "The world is changing. Let us not stand in the way, lest they make us out to be fools."

Watching him struggle, Matthew found himself at a loss as well. Never had he imagined that Arthur — sharp-tongued, quick-witted Arthur, who could neither be bullied nor silenced, who could quote from more books than Matthew had ever read — would be scrambling for words. But then, as he watched Arthur's shoulders curve in towards himself like Matthew had seen a thousand times before in another stubborn, sandy-haired nation who also seemed to have endless words but never quite the right ones, he knew what he needed to do.

Smiling again, Matthew stood, drawing on Arthur's arm so he would turn to face him and said, "I think you need a hug."

Unnecessarily Long Notes are Unnecessarily Long

I didn't state the specific setting of this scene, but the timing of the historical events mentioned means it has to have been sometime between June and August of 1947. Despite the fact that Mattie says "not much is going on", my lord, a lot was going on in 1947; hence why Artie is doing his best impression of the walking dead. Besides the Indian and Pakistan independence movement, officially achieved in August 1947 which is alluded to (Mountbatten, or 3 June Plan, was the precursor to the Indian Independence Act of 1947), Europe was also going through complete social upheaval. To mention just a couple highlights: Germany was in such ruin it was said to have returned to the Roman ages, Britain was rationing harder than ever despite the war having ended, and of course Mr. Truman and Mr. Stalin were gearing up for the Great Showdown. A quote I like which captures the feeling of the time is from H.G. Wells: "[where] other civilizations rolled and crumbled down, the European civilization was, as it were, blown up." [quoted by Tony Judt, Postwar]. Also directly concerning Arthur was the issue of Palestine, which as we all know was and is contentious, to say the very least.

Arthur's attitude to decolonisation is...complicated. Clearly I went with a softer view here, but certainly not all (or even many) British held the view in 1947 that the Empire should be decolonized at all. Hence Arthur during this time was probably a raging hypocrite and, if he wasn't already, at least 50% psychologically unstable. However, I allowed Arthur a little dignity here, in part because he's 2000 years old and as such should have a tiny more perspective than us humans, and also because the weakness of the Empire was much more evident to those in government and the army. Even if it wasn't popular opinion yet, anyone with half a braincell could see that every day Britian didn't decolonize was costing them more than they could afford. Additionally, Britain did decolonise much, much faster than all the other powers and in a relatively peaceful and orderly manner, though what ensued in the countries they left behind was neither. I should also add that Matthew is not the most objective of narrators either -- Canada, despite being a former colony, was still strongly Anglophilic, especially right after WWII. Still, I hope ya'll won't begrudge Arthur a hug.

#hws england #hws canada #fic #ask #rainbowfruitpastilles #needcake i'm working on urs next #ngl urs is kinda hard #but thats what practice is about #in the meantime send more asks :D #this is fun #fun times with the commonwealth

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ailendolin · 3 years ago

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Thank you for the invitation to ask random questions about your stories! Please could you tell us about some of the things you sadly had to leave out because they were unrealistically fluffy and involved the hurt character just getting TOO much care and love? (Feel free to describe these scenarios in detail if you'd enjoy doing that... :)

Thank you so much for wanting to know more about my stories! I’m always happy to talk about my writing (and also fandom stuff in general, of course). 💙

In answer to your question – the thing you need to know about my writing process is that I don’t have a document with cut scenes like other writers do because I rarely change a first draft so completely that whole scenes end up getting cut. I mostly expand them during the editing process to improve the reading flow and include more details but the first draft remains the backbone of the story, really.

The downside of that is that I can’t open one of my fics, point at one specific part and go, “This one used to be different.” I remember The first step and Compromise giving me a lot of trouble with unrealistically fluffy moments, though. Both fics are from Julian’s pov which probably explains it. Writing him somewhat realistically is really hard and can make the editing process rather frustrating. For example, right at the end of The first step, there's a scene where Thomas and Julian fall asleep on each other and I debated a long time whether to leave that in or not because it was treading that line of being too fluffy. In the end I left it in and people seemed to like it so I’m glad I didn't change it.

Flashback is another fic where I cut out bits of comfort. Nothing major but I ended up dialing everything down a notch. Looking back on Brave now, I kind of wish I’d done the same there. I love that story but I think it’s a little bit too self-indulgent at points.

Regarding specific scenes I deliberately cut / had to leave out, I'm afraid I can only remember two at the moment. The first one is from next week’s Whump Wednesday fic and concerns a scene where Charles (Larry’s chamberlain) hugs Billy (Mat’s page). It’s just a short moment but it didn't feel quite right so I ended up changing it when I edited that part yesterday. Since it doesn’t spoil anything, I’m going to copy the scene as it was here for you:

“I feel like such an idiot,” Billy murmured.

Charles sighed softly. “Come here.”

He opened his arms and Billy was moving before he even realised what he was doing.

“You’re not an idiot,” Charles continued quietly as he held him.

There's also something I desperately wanted to include in the last chapter of This place (I never though would feel like home). When I came up with the idea for that story I had the image of Nigel taking off his coat (cape? What’s that thing called anyway?) and draping it around Thomas’s shoulders to keep him warm in my mind. But when it came to writing the final part, I just couldn’t work it in. The good news is, I managed to include that idea in May 25th’s Whump Wednesday fic so Thomas will eventually get to wear Nigel’s cloak, just not in the way I originally intended.

I hope this sort of answers your question. Sorry for rambling on. 😅

#It's really more about dialing the comfort down instead of erasing it #a hug gets changed to a gentle touch on the arm or softly spoken word #that sort of thing #bbc ghosts #yonderland #whump wednesday #WWFF challenge #my fic #ask #mp

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apexqueenie · 4 years ago

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For One-Punch man : S-Class psychic (with the power of telepathy) male superhero reader x Tatsumaki

Ooooooooh yes, sorry for taking so long! Work and School are REALLY taking a toll on me ugh. Welp, here’s bby Tatsu❤️

Enjoy!

Warnings: Foul language, dead monsters

“Ehhhhhhhhh? Some nobody made it to S-class right off the bat?” Tatsumaki crossed her arms. She hovered over the tech guys in the Hero Association headquarters impatiently and just happened to see a new document come up on screen. The name was cut off at the top of the monitor, but the large S above the nearly perfect score was clearly visible.

The nervous tech man jumped at the S-class heroine’s voice, “uhm, yes ma’am, he was just registered today”

“Tch, first King, then Demon Cyborg, and now this guy? So I guess anyone can just waltz into the S-class instead of earning it like the rest of us? Ugh, weaklings” she scoffed. “Also, I don’t know if any of you morons remember but I came here because you guys said you needed help so get on with it!”

She looked around the room at the various operators all furiously typing away at their keyboards, some taking distressed phone calls from powerless civilians encountering lower level monsters. Sighing, she floated around looking for the staff member that called for her aid. Tch, if there were copies of her around, there won’t be so many monsters wandering the streets. Waiting around here was so goddamn booooooooooooooooring.

“Who called me here anyways?!” She yelled, “It’s taking so long for them to show up that I might as well just go look for the monster myself!” She raised herself far above everyone else, hoping that someone would notice and give her some coordinates. ANY coordinates.

Her hopes were answered when an association worker, Scruff man she calls him, entered the room, laptop in one hand as he adjusted his headset in the other. She growls with impatience and hovers over to him, fixing his headset for him so he could pay attention to her quicker.

“Where’s the monster I need to clean up?” she said, poking the man’s head.

He sighed, still heading over to his desk to set his laptop down. “Actually, we already have a hero there, but we have reports of the commotion attracting a huge energy signature from the-”

“Yeah yeah, give me the location already! I have to do ALL the work here” she interrupts.

He typed at his keyboard seemingly unbothered by the heroine’s rude mannerisms. “City J, watch out along the border in city K though,” he says. He was about to say more, but the green haired woman already vanished. He shook his head, getting back to other important matters at hand. “She’ll be fine” he mutters.

***

City J wasn’t that far by any means, not if you could fly there like the Terrible Tornado. She could hear the screams of frightened people before she even got to the scene...at least...she thought they were screams. Listening closer, Tatsumaki realized they were...cheers?

Oddly enough, she saw people smiling, taking videos and selfies of an abnormally big bear monster that laid sprawled across the floor, a massive dent in its head as well as a destroyed cafe in front of it. The hero of the day stood next to the corpse, smiling at the crowd as they swooned over him. She didn’t recognize him however...was it some lower class trying to get a rank boost? She flew over, hovering above him for intimidation.

He turned to look at her, unfazed by her presence. “Oh, hi partner! You must be the Terrible Tornado! I heard they were sending you as backup-”

“BACKUP?!” she yelled, “I am NOBODY’S BACKUP! If it weren’t for those STUPID HQ workers, I would’ve been here faster and without all this damn mess!” She waved her hand to the remains of the destroyed building to prove her point.

The hero blinked at her and smiled again, “so, this must be the award winning personality that coined your name huh? Well, you’re not the only one with a powerful mind you know. Mine takes over weak ones- anyways, we need to evacuate these people. They came back once the alarm stopped, but HQ warned us that there’s another beast hiding somewhere…” he trailed off, concentrating at the crowd of people that still cheered for him. He was sensing an approaching danger…a BIG danger. Suddenly, he turned to Tatsumaki and called her name, pointing to a cluster of people urgently.

She barely got the message as the ground began to crack underneath them. In between the cracks, she spotted a blue and disfigured monster, its drill like teeth boring its way to the surface until it suddenly froze, its eyes turning milky white. Subconsciously, she had already picked up everything in that area: people, cars, street signs, rubble and all, placing them gently out of harm’s way. Next to her, the unnamed hero holds both his hands out towards the monster, his eyes reflecting the same white as the monster he controlled.

“Tornado!” he yelled with a bit of difficulty. Quickly, she pulls everyone she sees far away from the battle scene, clearing the debri from the streets simultaneously so they can make their escape. The alarm sounds again, warning everyone of a threat level demon terrorizing the city. Tatsumaki rises above the buildings, scanning the area for more threats, but to her surprise, she sees none. Before she could start worrying about the monster at hand, the hero below lets out a triumphant yell at the area being cleared of civilians.

“Hah! This is where the real fun begins!” He says.

Tatsumaki looked down to see the male jump right above the monster before it unfroze and launched itself far above the ground. She moved out of the way to let the blue salamander-like monster pass her, its impossibly long body covering her view of the sun. She stared in awe at the hero riding the nearly 200 foot long beast to the sky. He felt no fear as he dropped with the giant, yelling with glee like a child playing with a new toy. It fell to the ground, crushing uneven buildings with its soft underside, the sudden takeover messing with its head and making it uncoordinated and confused. This gave the hero the perfect opportunity to control it with ease. The Salamander’s eyes turned milky white in its confusion, ceasing his movements and almost robotically repositioning its body. A split second later, it began bashing its head against the ground, quickly losing the strength to stand up as the hero rode on top of it like he was at a rodeo. Tatsumaki could only stare in shock as it took one last hit and stumbled on its side, dying next to the previous monster who met the same fate.

She was speechless. Never had she seen someone use an enemy’s own power against them, not like that. What did he say again..? ‘Well, you’re not the only one with a powerful mind you know. Mine takes over weak ones.’. Huh, so someone on the opposite side of the Esper Spectrum.

The hero turned to smile at her from below and Tatsumaki couldn’t help but turn a bit red from embarrassment. She was the number 2 hero, yet, she barely did anything to aid in stopping the attack. She didn’t know why, but for the first time in a long while, she felt ok with someone else handling the monster. She floated down a good distance to meet him, hoping her green aura would cover up some of the redness.

“Thanks for the help back there, I don’t really like taking over human minds all that much, so it was a big help for you to move them yourself.” he says as he begins to make his way down from the monster’s neck.

Tatsumaki only responded with a ‘hmph’ as she hovered in pace with him. She wasn’t used to being the backup, but what’s done is done. Even if she was impressed, she couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit salty.

Sounds of sirens, helicopters, and news reporters became audible soon after the hero’s feet touched the ground. Few people came back to the aftermath to take pictures and film the dead beasts.

“Well,” the hero says, fixing his outfit, “looks like people are coming to interview us already. S-classes really are a big deal huh? I don’t think I’m ready to spend the next hour or two being asked boring questions, so I'm gonna dip. I’ll see you around?”

“...Sure.” She says.

“Great!” He smiles, before turning around to head off away from the paparazzi.

Tatsumaki eyes him for a second, trying to figure out again if she recognizes him before the curiosity gets the better of her. “Wait!” She calls out.

He turns around, giving her his full attention.

“What’s your name anyways?” She huffs.

He gives her a playful smirk, “I thought you knew already. I’m your new S-class companion, and I’m comin for Blast’s number 1 spot.” He says, pointing a thumb to himself as he turned back around and continued walking.

“LIKE HELL I’D LET YOU TAKE THAT SPOT” he heard Tatsumaki yell before she let out a frustrated growl and began heading off to her next task.

The hero chuckled to himself. The Terrible Tornado could be cute sometimes if she wasn’t trying to kill you.

***

As Tatsumaki flew off, she couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy. Finally, there was someone who could pull their weight... someone she could share the load with and who wasn’t quite normal like her and Fubuki. It was an odd feeling of..relief? Comfort? She didn’t quite know just yet, so she shook that feeling away. The number two hero doesn’t catch feelings that easily, at least, that’s what she told herself. Aside from her sister, relationships were hard for Tatsumaki...but deep down, she secretly hoped she would work with him again soon.

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#opm x reader #opm imagines #one punch man x reader #tatsumaki #tornado #Tatsumaki x reader #Tatsumaki x male reader #anime x you #anime x reader #one punch man tornado

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lobakmerahs · 4 years ago

Text

One: Painting and Its Secrets

Summary: This series is about Levi’s slow burn relationship with the reader who is not only a squad leader but a spy who works under Scouts Regiment.

Warning: mentions of death

A/n: I hope you, whoever you are that will read my series will enjoy it as much as I do when I wrote it. Thanks and have a pleasant reading! :)

~ 🎨

3 weeks before...

A blond platinum wig in a pixie cut, button down shirt in beige, a dark brown suspenders, a pair of pants in olive green with a jacket in the same colour. Last but not least a black fedora on top of the head. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, making sure that you looked completely different from the real you at the same time not wanting the disguise you were wearing would catch unnecessary attention. After you were fully satisfied with your look, you took your steps outside your little home.

It was supposedly your off day and you were strolling at the Stohess District and went to buy a newspaper before taking your seat at an empty bench while facing the river. After a few moments had passed, you glanced at your watch and stood up to head to your destination.

Hans Art Gallery. You were on time when you stood in front of the art shop as the business was just begun and you were the first one to enter.

“Good morning and welcome to Hans Art Gallery. Is there anything that I can help you, Mrs?,” the gentleman asked.

“A bouquet of tulips for the man with the black shoes.” You answered to the gentleman who was not wearing a pair of black shoes but upon hearing your sentence and clearly understood your code, he went to the back of the gallery before returned to you and handed the canvas piece that was neatly wrapped with an oil paper.

You calmly walked to your home and naturally looked around you to make sure no one was tailing before you entered your house and produced a soft click sound as you locked the wooden door behind you. You didn’t go straight to your room, instead you climbed to the attic and yet again locked the door. Slowly you unwrapped the frame and brought out your forceps as well as your scalpels, no need to ask how did you get those. The canvas held a drawing of an evening sky which was rich with every shades of orange colour capturing the beauty of the sunset, it seemed like it could bring calmness to whoever that laid their eyes on it, but what people didn’t know, didn’t have to know as well as didn’t have the right to know was what lied beneath the drawing. Yes, the drawing was undeniably beautiful, it was made by none other than one of your assets in the Wall Sina that disguised as an art dealer among the nobles. The said asset had planted a few layers of documents under his drawing which was the main reason you were about to form a surgery on the work of art. Meticulously, you ran your scalpel on the border of the drawing, next you brushed your thumb along the already cut borders to make the edges curled upwards then you used your forceps to peal the drawing away, revealing layers of papers which were believed to be the documents that were hidden beneath it.

“Hmmh.. hmmm~ yare yare, found ya’.” You whispered to yourself and smiled in relief, taking out the pieces of papers and gave it a read.

The documents contained the Military Police reports of Nicholas Lovof’s crimes that included bribery, kidnapping, murders and any other atrocities that were enough to put someone under justified punishments. Not only that, the documents also included a detailed descriptions as well as names of the people that were in charge to kill Erwin Smith, a good colleague of yours, thanks to Nicholos’s manipulations. The said people were; a young red-haired girl styled in pigtails, another young man with a light-brown hair and persumably the oldest one of the pack,a sharp dull blue eyes man with a black hair styled in an uppercut.

Then, you made a copy of the documents and kept them in a scroll so you could send them to Erwin, where the original copy of them were properly sealed in an envelope for you to send them to none other than Dhalis Zachary.

~🎨

You took a deep breath, inhaling the morning’s crisp while staring at the blue sky. It was always your favorite thing to do, starring at the sky, focusing on the colours that it held. From the wide ranges of blues, to the variety tones of the white from the clouds and sometimes the contrast colours of orange or pink that appears during dusk or dawn.

After you had enough of your morning pill from the sky, you stepped out of your chamber and was greeted by your best friend, Hange with a raised of both your eyebrows. Both of you did not need much words to greet each other most of the times. You were best friends since your Training Corps years. Morning wasn’t the time for you guys to start acting real with each other. So, both of you walked by each other to the mess hall to get your breakfast then attended the assembly Scout Regiment’s concourse.

During the morning assembly, you lined up beside Erwin as you were also a Section Commander and had your comrades under your unit to stand in a line behind you. As you were standing, you could see there were 3 people standing beside Commander Keith Sadis, and were introduced to the whole Scout Regiment as the new Scouts. One of them was a girl with red-brown hair tied into two pigtails, named Isabel Magnolia, the other was a man with dark blond hair named Furlan Church and the last one named Levi, a shorter man with black hair styled in an uppercut. All three of them were assigned into Flagon's unit much to his dismay. You glanced at Erwin by your side and he gave you a knowing look. While others found those new Scouts’ names foreign, both of you were exceptional and for a good reason.

They were surprisingly good during their training, for some people who never had a formal training using the ODM gear, they performed fantastically well but they still needed some polishing for their Titans killing skills, except for Levi. You were always up to offer help to them but they often misunderstood since you usually looked cold and always a bit brutal during your trainings which were a famous fact among the Scout Regiment. Farlan and Isabel often thought that you hated them since they received resentments from severel other Scout cadets and thinking that you were also in the same boat as the other Scouts. Levi was always with his bored expression, you could barely read his expressions let alone his thoughts, unlike the other two. There was a time where Isabel blurted about why you insisted to help training them when you seemed to dislike them.

“It doesn’t matter if I like you guys or not, people train to kill the Titans and to survive. You guys seemed to rush things and hiding something, as if you wanted you to get done with killing Titans then move on to do something else that isn’t Titans related and I’m here trying to help you not to get killed by Titans”, you answered. There was a short silence followed after your answer. You could tell their breaths hitched for a moment but you remained stolid nevertheless.

“Well, we have to move on to do something else as in to focus on the formation right?”, Furlan replied with a hint of nervous.

“Yeah, let’s hope so.” You answered.

~🎨

In life, there were a lot of moments where the air would be tense and the night before expedition was one of them. The night was calm and quiet but you couldn’t ignore the heavy feeling in your heart. Tonight was just another night inside the wall but to some in the Scout Regiment, it would be their last. Tomorrow’s expedition would surely cost some of your comrades’ lives and might even yours, for the sake of humanity.

You took a deep breath. But it still didn’t help to calm your nerves. You had been pacing in your room since dinner. You couldn’t stay still, palms were sweaty and heart was beating unsually fast tonight. Something bad was going to happen tomorrow. You could feel it in your guts. You recognized these telltale because whenever you felt like this, you’ll end up receiving death news be it your favorite neighbour from your hometown, your beloved pets or even the Scouts that you had helped in training. Deciding that sitting in your room wouldn’t help lessen the nerves, you grabbed your pencils and sketch papers then headed outside to gaze at the starry night sky to do some sketches in hope of easing your mind.

As you arrived at you usual spot at tower of the Scout Regiment barracks, you slumped down and took a glance at the sky. The moon hadn’t shown itself yet, and there were thick clouds hanging everywhere. Then, you stared at your paper and pencil. Blank. No idea. No inspiration. Stuck. You sighed, and continued to stare at the night sky hoping to relax your mind for awhile. Then, you heard the sound of clicking boots which meant that there were people not far from you. It was Furlan and Isabel whom just arrived, they walked to a figure that you assumed to be Levi. You remained quiet and peeped them from your location. You could heard Isabel and Furlan trying to convince Levi about them joining tomorrow’s expedition. As you were eavesdropping not that you planned to in the first place, suddenly your hand started to sketch the paper, starting with the clouds and adding the diamonds in the sky, slowly without you realizing it, you were sketching the trio starring at the starry night sky under the moonlight that shone magnificiently.

When you were done with the sketching, you returned to your room as quietly as possible and continued to add colours to your drawing before you got sleepy and finally free from your anxious feeling earlier. Before you headed to your bed, you jotted down the date behind your work which now known as painting, no longer just a sketch.

During the expedition, you and your squad were put around the right flank of the long range formation. There were few Titans appeared throughout the journey, none that your squad could handle. You were beyond grateful that all of your squad were still well and alive at the moment. Then, you received a signal to tighten the formation since the sky started to show sign that it would rain soon and a heavy one at that. You commanded your squad to pull on the hood of their capes and stayed as close as possible with you and each other so that no one would go unnoticed and it would be easier to assist if anything happen.

Despite the heavy downpour, your squad kept moving forward and you efficiently assisted your squad in killing any Titan that came in the way, it was always your promise to make sure everyone under you would return to the wall safe and alive. Then, suddenly you heard a weird noise coming from in front of you, not the usual strange noise that a Titan would make.A load, short but multiple groan as if a Titan was in pain. So, you rushed to the direction of the sound assuming that there might a cadet or a squad that needed your assistance.

You arrived at the same time as Erwin’s and some other squad leaders, surrounded by an Abnormal Titan’s and plenty of your other comrades’ corpses. Then, you noticed Levi standing next to the Titan’s dead body with blood all over him and Isabel’s head in front of him with half of Furlan’s body not far from him as well. Levi seemed to be the only one survived from his squad. His head hanging slightly low, with his hair covering his eyes but the tears streaming down his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by you. So, this explained the sweaty palm and racing heart you had another night- to see two cadets that you helped with training days ago, only now left with just just head and half of a body. You felt your shoulder fell and knees slightly shaking. You felt like your breath had been taken away.

As the rain started to stop slowly as the sunshine gently peeking from the clouds, you watched how Levi was about to kill Erwin which was stopped by Mike then Erwin explained about the Nicholos Lovof's situation causing Levi to stop his actions and stood silently, digesting the fact that he was caught up in Erwin’s plans.

You did feel bad for Levi, Erwin wasn’t the only who knew about him and his friends’ true intention of joining the Scout Regiment. You knew about it too. It was your assignment to obtain the information about Nicholos Lofov’s crimes and sent it to Erwin as well as finding out the person who was assigned to supposedly kill Erwin. It was just a simple guess as to why those three didn’t refuse so much on joining he Scout Regiment when Erwin offered them to.

You were assigned with that task since you were not only a Section Commander but also a spy under the Scout Regiment as well as the cadets under your wings and some were also assets scattered across the town in disguise as an art dealer in Wall Sina, a commoner who opened a bakery shop or could be anyone in the town that simply invisible to the world but not to you. You needed to sniff around to obtain crucial informations that could contribute to the Scout Regiment strategies, formation and as well as humanity.

~🎨

The barracks became quieter after the expedition ended which was normal due to the lost of lives. You were at your room that night, just checking your report before you could submit them to Erwin the next morning and decided to write some notes in your book. You opened your drawer and saw the painting that you made before the expedition took place. Levi, Isabel and Furlan staring at the sky. Two of the were smiling in admiration to the sky while Levi just being Levi, stoic as ever except his eyes where they were packed with ......hope.

You suddenly felt drenched and decided to go for a glass of water at the kitchen before you headed to sleep. You inserted the sketching into your notebook and brought them with you to the kitchen, it just came across your mind to let Levi had it since you remembered how shattered he looked when he was kneeling in front of Isabel's head. The kitchen was empty when you arrived so you went to grab a cup and filled it with water.

As you took a sip of water from your glass, you saw Levi entering the same room as yours. Both of you were startled for a second yet no words left your mouths before he proceeded to make himself a tea and you with your drink. The room was filled with silence but not an uncomfortable one, at least for you. That was when it slipped your mind that you wanted to give the drawing to Levi. Only if he would accept your drawing. You thought he might wanted it since that drawing was an evidence of a sweet memory that his two friends left him during their short time in the Scout Regiment. Probably something for him to look at when he felt lonely. He was stirring his teaspoon with his back facing you when you called his name. Probably the first time having you calling his name. Probably the first time you would ever interact with him ever since he joined the regiment.

“.....um..Levi,” you called. That’s when your heart skipped a beat. And you felt a bit....just a bit nervous to see him reacting to you. Then, he turned around and faced you, intense dull blue eyes focusing on your eyes, expecting you to continue. You gulped. Man, was his gaze always this tense? You never noticed that before for sure.

“I was at the tower the night before the exhibition, with my sketching utensils because I needed to calm my nerves. Then suddenly you guys came and I made something. I didn’t plan doing it, I just went with the ideas flowing in my head,” you stopped and brought out your painting to his attention. He stayed focus listening to you and eyes never left your face before he took the drawing and examined it. You couldn’t say he was amused but his gaze did soften a little.

“I’m sorry I draw the three of you without your permission.I know I should have asked your consent. And um, you could keep that...... If you want though,” you continued. You felt quite nervous not because you were scared of him, shy probably but not scared. You were nervous because one, you wished your drawing didn’t remind him of his late friends in a bad way and caused him more sadness, two, you didn’t want him to get mad at you for drawing him without his permission and three, um...what if your drawing looked like a toddler’s work? That would suck.

“It’s nice,” Levi finally spoke. His deep monotone voice comforted your ears. You breathed out a relief.

“I want to keep it,” Levi said, hand still holding your drawing, eyes travelling back to yours with a softer gaze and as if asking for your permission.

You nodded, “sure, make it yours, I do hope it’ll help you feel better, if that's even possible”, you replied with a soft chuckle as you slowly stood and got ready to head back to your room.

You saw Levi took a glance at the drawing then looked at you again before he replied you with, “thanks, I’ll treasure it.”

You flashed a small smile before yawning and took off to your room to get your sleep. Feeling light and at ease, knowing your drawing could help lift up someone’s mood.

Little did you know that, back in his chamber, Levi stared at your painting. He indulged himself into the painting that you made, every drop of colour as well as every line and traces left on the paper by you, realized how he missed watching his lost friends’ smiles and thanks to you, he could see his friends’ smiles once again eventhough it was just on a piece of a paper. Not to mention, he finally got to interact with you. You striked a mysterious aura when you first appeared before his eyes which intrigued him to get to know you, yet he never had a chance or a reason to talk to you but you were always there somewhere in the back of his mind. He was utterly grateful with the drawing you made, at least he could carve the smiles of his friends into his mind, their smiles might no longer exist in this world but it would always be in his heart and mind.

Next chapter

#levi ackermann #levi ackermann x reader #levi x reader #levi ackermann imagines #levi ackermann fic #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #aot imagines #levi aot #aot fanfic #levi ackermann fanfic #attack on titan #attack on titan fic #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #Furlan Church #Isabel Magnolia #hange zöe #Erwin Smith #erwin smith

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softboywriting · 4 years ago

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Right Place, Right Time | Santiago “Pope” Garcia | Triple Frontier

Summary: You and Pope have known each other for years because of your ex. When you end up in a bad situation because of your brother, Pope is the last person you thought would end up saving your life. [Post Movie] [TW: Violence, gunshots, mention of drug running, hostage situation] [Film: Triple Frontier]

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist In Bio

The sound of a gunshot rips through the air, ringing in your ears and your heart stops. You huddle down into the cold porcelain tub you're handcuffed to, praying that you can get out of this situation alive. The situation has gone from bad to worse and you suspect it may get uglier.

You're not even meant to be here, you're a bartering chip because your brother fucked up and owes a cartel boss a fuck load of money. You can't even remember his name, Parade? Patron? Partida. That's it. Three days ago you got grabbed by three guys in a van outside your apartment in San Antonio Texas; had your hands tied up and mouth taped shut, tossed into the cargo hold on a small plane and flown for a long time then put in a trunk and driven for a longer time.

Since then you've been fine, no one has hurt you or made you feel uncomfortable other than the whole being held hostage. It's only been a day since you've been handcuffed, you started out much more comfortable in a small sunroom but you quickly ruined that luxury. Your back hurts from the awkward position you're forced to sit in. It's what you get for trying to make a run for it during a guard change.

It's been just under fifteen minutes since you heard commotion from the floor below you. Unmistakable sounds of struggle and loud thumping. Then came the gunshot. You have no idea who is shooting, if it is a guard or someone else with a gun. There are two more gunshots and you are certain that they've come from the stairs just outside the bathroom door. You have a feeling that there is a drug bust going on or a rival cartel is making a move. Either way you're in a bad position.

The hall outside the bathroom door creaks and you hold your breath. Maybe they won't check the bathroom. Maybe it's one of Partida's guards sweeping for intruders. Not that you'd rather it be a guard, but you'd rather not die or go to prison for being in a drug lord's house. You slide the curtain over quietly and lean your head back against the cold tile wall.

The sound of a man speaking catches your attention. It's low, unintelligible. You listen closer, trying to make out what they're saying but you're only catching pieces. It sounds like English.

"I'm going to sweep the rooms."

The door hand jiggles and you can't breathe. Sure enough the door creaks open and you hear someone moving into the room, heavy boots moving slowly across the floor. As long as they don't pull back the curtain it's fine. You're fine. They will take the shit they want and leave. Then you can make a run for it. Just don't open the- fuck.

You stare up at a blonde man with striking blue eyes. He's got a backwards baseball cap and a full tactical vest on. He looks American and you feel only fleeting relief, knowing that at least he doesn't appear to be part of a rival cartel in the country.

"Holy shit." He touches a com on his chest. "Pope, we got a girl up here, second floor bathroom. She's handcuffed to the tub."

"Copy that, I'm on my way."

Your heart soars. Pope. You know a Pope who is now ex military. Your ex boyfriend's squad leader was nicknamed Pope. You got together several times, had drinks with the squad and their significant others. You always had a thing for him, though you never let on since you were with Jude, your ex. The two of you got along far better than you and Jude ever did and you always wondered what if. It was a classic case of right person, wrong time. You can only hope that somehow on the gods green earth, this is going to be the same man.

"Hey sweetheart you know English?"

"Yeah, I'm American." You tug at the handcuff and it rattles loudly against the tub. "Got anything to get this off me?"

"Not on me. I'm gonna let Pope make that call."

Another man appears in the doorway. He looks similar to the one standing before you. Blonde, blue eyes, same jawline and build. "Ah fuck. Did you tell Pope yet?"

"He's on his way up."

A third man steps into view as the second man steps away. He's about the same height, dark curly hair with a bit of gray in the front, stubble, brown deep set eyes. It's him, Santiago "Pope" Garcia. He looks to the man in front of you and then to the one out of sight. They both exit the room and he enters, closing the door behind him.

"Santiago...Pope...holy shit, is this for real?"

"It is." He kneels beside the tub and you can see gray in his dark stubble. He doesn't look old enough to be graying, maybe late thirties or so, you can't remember. His eyes are soft, gentle as he looks at your wrist in the cuff. It's sore, red and rubbed raw. "This is the last place I ever thought I'd see you again. How the hell did you get here?"

"My brother owes Partida money, he did that private security gig here a while remember? He couldn't pay up so Partida took me and brought me here as a hostage. I've been here for three days."

Pope swings his gun around to his back and digs in the pocket of his vest. "He's kept you chained up for three days?"

"No, just one day. I was in the sunroom downstairs under a guard's watch until I tried to get out. I didn't make it far, obviously."

"Then he cuffed you. I got it." He pulls out a pair of pliers and goes for the chain around the pipe. "I want you to listen to what I'm about to say, and listen closely."

"O-okay?"

"If you're lying to me, and you try any funny business I cannot guarantee your safety. Just because we know each other, doesn't mean I can trust you entirely. I don't know you that well anymore. I'm cutting this chain and letting you go because I don't condone hurting women or hostages, and I want to believe you're telling me the truth."

"Of course I'm telling the truth, Pope. Fuck, we've known each other for years, yeah it's been a while but how many times did we get wasted together? Why are you here?"

He gives you a hard look but it smooths out, trust softening his features. "I'm trying to make a difference."

You rub your arm, massaging the bicep as you're able to relax it finally. It's been uncomfortably held at a weird angle since you were chained up. "You're here for the drugs? Are you a mercenary now or something?"

"Something like that." Pope stands and offers a hand to help you up. "You need to get out of here and get back home."

"I can't. I don't have any documents. How am I supposed to get over the border or get a flight?" You climb out of the tub and run a hand over your hair. "They brought me down here on a fucking crop duster hidden in the cargo hold."

Pope sighs, muttering under his breath and hooks his thumbs under the straps of his vest. "I'd say go to the embassy but I'm sure they're in Partida's pockets. Okay, I'll get you out of here, just go downstairs and wait for us to come down."

You nod and open the door, heading down the stairs and stopping short of the last step because there is a guard laying across the bottom steps and he is clearly not responsive. You close your eyes and tell yourself he is just unconscious as you step over his legs and go to the foyer. The front door is open and it's raining outside, the sky a sick green color. How did this happen? How could you have let your brother get in this much trouble? How did you let yourself get picked up outside your apartment? Fuck. You lean on the doorframe and you feel sick. You can't just go home. Partida will find you, his men will find you.

"Hey Handcuffs, you ready to go?"

You turn and see the blond with the baseball cap that initially found you. "Yeah, I'm not eager to stay."

"Pope says you're comin' with us. That he knows you. You're American right? Where you from?"

"Texas."

"Ah I see." He does a little two step move. "I've had a couple of good rounds in Texas. Nice place. Good food and better company." He adjusts his hat and you roll your eyes at him. "How'd you end up in Columbia?"

"My idiot brother." You scoff. "He was in private sector security and he stayed here for six months. Apparently he got in with the wrong people and then ended up owing more money than our childhood home is worth. He's so fucking stupid, he put me and everyone he's knows at risk and look at me now. I'm so fucked."

"Hey it'll be okay. Pope knows the right people, he can get you home."

"I can't go home! If I just go back to my apartment in San Antonio then Partida's men are going to hunt me down. They'll interrogate me about this, whatever this is!" You pace across the foyer. "I'm not supposed to be here, I'm not supposed to be part of anything! This is all my brother's fault and I'm really tempted to snap his fingers one by one when I see him again, if I see him again."

"Ouch. Trust me, Pope will get this right. Partida isn't going to be a problem much longer. Well, he ain't a problem now."

"What do you mean? Of course he's a prob-"

The other blonde comes down the stairs with Pope behind him. He's got a necklace in his hand with a cross on it. It's the one that Partida never goes without. The only way they could have gotten that is- Jesus fucking Christ what did Pope get into? "You got the matches Pope?" The blonde asks.

"You know I do." Pope says, tossing a bottle of some sort behind him.

"Don't you think maybe we should give some of this money in the house back to the people?"

"It's dirty money, it'll just find its way back to the next cartel that tries to take over the country. It's best we don't feed anything back into it. Let the people heal, free of Partida's grasp."

"Whatever you say, Pope."

Baseball cap and the other blonde grab bottles from a bag nearby like the one Pope tossed. You realize they're lighter fluid, or perhaps gasoline. They're going to burn the house to the ground with everything and everyone in it. "Come on, let's get this place good and soaked."

Pope walks up to you and lays his hand on your shoulder. "I never thought I'd see you again let alone in a place like this. Small world."

"Yeah, small world. What are you actually doing here? Seriously this is not a government mission."

"No, it's not. I've spent the last two years here trying to take down Partida. He was responsible for the death of my aunt and uncle a few years back. I worked with the local government for a while but they were all on his payroll. I met up with Benny and Will about doing this on our own. They hot some hard times so I told them they could keep as much cash as they could carry if they helped me and well, here we are."

You reach out and touch his jaw, there's a scratch you didn't see before and it's bleeding a little. You wonder if he knows it's there. "Never thought you'd do some cowboy shit like this."

He shrugs and looks away. "It's against everything I ever swore under oath but it's the right thing to do and we've got the skill set to do it. So many people suffer under Partida's rule. I've done something like this before in Brazil, it didn't turn out so well but it made a huge difference for the people and the government."

"Well I'm glad you are doing it. I've never been more relieved in my life than I was when I saw you walk into that bathroom. I was sure I'd end up dead or in prison or something far worse. I'm so far from home, and someone I know is saving my life, how did I get this lucky."

Pope chuckles. "I guess people are tied to each other once they meet. The invisible strings of fate. Seems that way anyway. How's Jude?"

"We broke up two years ago. It wasn't ugly, just a mutual falling out. He was being deployed to Turkey for a few years so it would have been rough."

"Oh I'm sorry to hear that. Is he still there? I've not heard from him since I retired."

"Yeah. What about you? Still got that Brazilian girl? What was her name? Annamaria?"

Pope clears his throat and runs a hand over his hair nervously. "No, no she uh...she wasn't into my work. It didn't last long."

"That sucks, I'm sorry. She was a sweet girl."

"She was. Life goes on though."

"Alright we're done, let's light it up and go home." The blonde says and picks up the bag they got the lighter fluid from.

Baseball Cap claps a hand on Pope's back. "Let's get the hell out of dodge my man."

"Let's go." Pope says, laying a hand on your back and guiding you toward the doorway. "We've got a truck waiting on the other side of the highway."

_____________________

The way home isn't as easy as it should be even with Pope's connections. For Benny and Will, baseball cap and the blonde, it's easy as pie. Pope had already set up their fake passports and IDs before the mission. You end up staying with Pope at the place he pays weekly for in Medellin. It's a temporary apartment, all the furniture and appliances are supplied. It's perfect for a man on the move. You both know it's a risk to keep you in the country, should Partida's men decide to get retribution for their boss. Not that many knew who you were or why you were in his home, but either way, if any of them knew about you, this is going to get pinned on you. How one woman in her late twenties could take out several armed guards and a drug lord alone, you have no idea. You're not John Wick, but you're not completely off the hook.

You wake up to the early morning light pouring in the open window of the bedroom. You're covered in soft blankets, a bit too warm, but comfortable enough. Beside you Pope is asleep, his tan skin and dark hair such a contrast against the cream color bedding. He looks peaceful, serene in this state.

Sharing the bed had been your idea. It wasn't as if two adults couldn't share a queen size bed for a few nights. You weren't horny teenagers on a camping trip, forced to share tents. None the less your heart races when you see him inches away, lips parted slightly, eyes closed and his whole expression relaxed. He's gorgeous, rough but attractive beyond measure. He's older than you by a few years, a good eight at least, but you don't care. You definitely still want him.

"Good morning," he mutters, one eye opening to peek at you across from him. He smiles slow and sleepy.

"Good morning."

"Did you sleep okay?"

"Mmhmm."

Pope reaches out and closes the gap between the two of you, fingers gliding over your cheek. "You're flushed. Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah." You bite your tongue as you stare pleadingly at the man across from you. Do you say something? Does he feel this vibe? Does his chest ache the way yours does right now? You can't decide what to say so you go with the first thing that comes to mind. "You've gotten some gray since I last saw you."

He grins, breaking out into a laugh and let's his hand fall from your face. "Stress and the military will do that to you."

"I like it."

His laughter lulls and he looks over at you once more. "You do?"

"Yeah." You reach out and touch the curls at the front of his head where they are streaked with gray. His hair is soft but full and thick, his latin genetics for sure. He won't be thinning anytime soon, just graying. "It's nice, makes you look distinguished."

"It makes me look like an old man."

"You're not that old."

"Thirty seven and I've got these grays like a fifty year old pushing sixty hard."

You run your hand into his hair, dragging your fingers up through the thickest bit. "Don't worry about it. Get some hair dye. The ladies will still be all over you with a face like this."

He chuckles. "Oh yeah? What if I don't want ladies all over me? What if I just want one." He rolls forward and leans over you. "Am I reading this wrong?"

"No, you're reading it perfectly right."

"Good." He leans in and presses his lips to yours. His hand slides into your hair and you melt. His kiss is everything you imagined, soft, gentle, loving. "I've got a place in Brazil, a condo in Rio."

"Are you asking me to move in with you?"

"Maybe." He smiles and kisses you again. "Just for a bit until things cool down with Partida's men. I think you'll like Brazil."

You smile softly and close your eyes. "Fuck it. Why not? My job sucks in San Antonio. My parents are who knows where since they retired and my brother can figure it out himself. He put me into this mess, he can suffer a while wondering what happened to me."

"If he hadn't, we wouldn't be here." He presses his forehead against yours. "Never thought I'd see you again."

"I guess it's like you said, people are tied together by the universe once they meet." You run your hand through his hair and down his neck, twisting your finger in his curls there. "Maybe we were supposed to end up like this."

He presses another kiss to your lips and then to your jaw. "It was finally the right place, right time."

"Finally."

-------

end

Header imgae by @/delicate-venus

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

#triple frontier #triple frontier fic #oscar issac #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia #santiago garcia fic #santiago garcia imagine #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier fan fic #fan fic

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yurissweettooth · 4 years ago

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Yay For 10 Years!🎉🎉

*Psst, click the image for higher quality!*

I have zero shame in saying that this show (and all related media) has changed my whole life in so many ways! I’m also not shy about the fact that my heart belongs to Yuri (I think he's so cool!) so of course he was the obvious choice for who do draw and write a short, light hearted fic about (which you can read below the cut!)💚💙

I hope everyone has had a lot of fun on this day!

“Let’s see here… Kotetsu Kaburagi damage report… Kotetsu Kaburagi damage report… Kotetsu Kaburagi... damage report…” Yuri exhaled, massaging the bridge of his nose in exasperation as he leafed through a mountain of crinkled, coffee stained documents. It was of little to no surprise that the pile of paperwork that had been left on his desk while he was away on his lunch break could mostly be attributed to the more reckless half of Sternbild’s prized crime fighting duo. With a sigh Yuri lifted the receiver of his phone, intending to politely remind Tiger once again not to use his paperwork as a coaster. However, before he could dial the number it had begun to ring.

“Justice department, Yuri Petrov speaking.” he answered, suppressing his annoyance and replacing it with his usual polite tone.

“Good afternoon Mr. Petrov, it’s Agnes. As you might be aware, today is the ten year anniversary of the Justice Tower’s remodeling.” She explained.

“Remodeling?”

“Yes. Ten years ago today all of the walls were repainted and appliances replaced to give it a more modern look to reflect a new era of Heroes.” She stated, as if that really explained anything at all.

“That is quite lovely to hear Ms. Joubert. The paint is, uh, a very nice color.” he stated politely, not even sparing a glance at the boring grey walls that surrounded him.

“Look, you don’t have to flatter me, I couldn’t care less about the paint color either. The sponsors are complaining that the returns on their investments are decreasing so we need to drum up some interest and we need to do it fast. Anything can be a reason to celebrate if you look at it right way, right? I mean, do you have any better ideas?”

“Ms. Joubert, I’m merely a judge… I apologize, but I don’t see what this has to do with me.”

“Yes, precisely! You’re a judge, bringer of justice, upholder of the law!” she passionately proclaimed “Apollon media stands for justice, as such it’s only natural that we feature a man of true justice like yourself..”

Yuri elicits a sound of smug approval and leans back in his chair “Well, I suppose when you word it in that way I may be able to see your point.”

“Fantastic! So, of course our main heroes are our star attraction, our second league heroes are a nice side dish, but you’re probably somewhere right below that when it comes to your importance in delivering justice. ”

“Oh… is that so?” Yuri asked as his briefly amused tone fell flat at her backhanded remark. Was she trying to insult him?

“Precisely.” she said as though she believed she had just bestowed upon him the complement of the century. “I was thinking, in a way you’re kind of like a minor hero yourself so maybe we could spin it as something like a ‘Meet Sternbild’s Hidden Heroes!’ segment. Of course we’ll save all the big questions for our real heroes but maybe at some point we could get your perspective on what you think of the decor of the tower and what it’s like to be a judge.”

As he began to feel the backs of his eyes grow warm he made the quick decision to end the call there before he lost his composure. “Agnes, you always have incredible ideas and I wish you all the best with pursuing that. Thank you for the information, I'll think it over. I’ll be returning to my paperwork now but please don’t hesitate to contact me again when you are in need of further assistance.”

“Oh, you're doing paperwork? In that case, this is actually a great opportunity. Stay put and act natural, I’ll be there in just a minute with the supplies and the film crew.” Agnes made a point of hanging up quickly before he even got the chance to protest.

Just as she’d promised, Agnes and her posse were barging into his office and shoving cameras in his face before he’d even been able to sign off on the first document. She wasted no time in bounding right up to his desk, turning towards the camera.

“Would you look at that, Sternbild’s very own Judge Yuri Petrov, hard at work as usual!” She gracefully spun around and held the microphone out to him “So tell us Yuri, what are you working on currently?”

He pursed his lips, just barely masking his disapproval. He had never been one for interviews, especially not while presenting simply as Judge Petrov, so he figured it best just to blurt out a few simple answers and get it over with quickly. “Well you see, Wild Tiger has again destroyed more property in one week than a group of delinquents could in their entire lifetime." He motioned to the papers in front of him "As you can see, I have a lot of damage reports that I need to-.”

It was rather frightening how suddenly Agnes was able to snap out of her charming, professional mode. “Hey! Take your job seriously!” she shouted, slamming her hands against his desk. “You’re supposed to say ‘Heh heh, I’m sure you would love to know but that’s confidential.’ and wink at the camera or something like that.”

“You’re right, my apologies." Yuri said. He tucked a lock of his hair behind his ears, shuffled his papers, and started again. Sorry, I can’t tell you what I’m working on as doing so would violate the code outlined in article 371 B of the Sternbild judic-”

“Ugh, forget it, moving on. Ahem, soooo Mr. Petrov, why don’t you tell us a little bit about what led you to become a judge and why serving justice is so important to you.”

“Ah, well that one is simple.” he said, putting on the vaguest semblance of a friendly smile “I believe that justice is important.”

Agnes nodded her head, the microphone still pointed at him for a moment longer. That is, until the moment passed without him saying anything else. “I-is that all?”

“I’m not sure what else can really be said on the topic.” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Jeez, who hired this guy…” she muttered. “Well, can you at least tell me what you think of the new penholders?”

“Aren’t these from ten years ago?”

“Well they’re newer to you because you only started working here just within the past two years.”

“Mm, I see… but couldn’t the same have been said for the pen holders that were here before the renovation if they were still here now? Does being new to me really make them new?”

Agnes lowered the microphone and gave him a look that would make even Lunatic tremble in fear. “Alright, I had hoped we could avoid it but you’ve left me no choice but to resort to plan B.”

The words “plan B” didn’t leave the most pleasant feeling in Yuri’s gut and, for a moment, he almost considered interjecting and asking to restart the interview. However, Agnes already had her mind made up and was knocking his paperwork and carefully arranged pens aside to make room for a large box displaying the company logo. She rifled through the contents, producing a large cupcake bearing red and green candles in the shape of the number ten among other various party related items.

“Bring it in.” Agnes motioned her crew closer to get a better shot as she rounded the corner of his desk and placed a large, blue and green party hat on his head, pressing it down to try and make it sit smoothly atop his curly hair. “You like these colors, right?” she asked, as if the colors were what might be wrong with this.

“Well, yes but…” he started, but she silenced him with a simple wave of her hand.

“Alright, great. Here, put this in your mouth.” she said, shoving a party blowout, rather reminiscent of Sky High's suit, towards his lips “Try not to get any lipstick on it, we need to reuse this for next year.”

“May I ask why you are making me do this?” Yuri asked, his resolve wavering.

“I’ve decided we’re doing a magazine interview instead. I’ll write out all of your answers for you, we just need a few photos of you to accompany them. Now, pretend like you’re having fun!” she reached back into the box, grabbed a handful of confetti, and sprinkled the colored paper over his head. “Cain, go go go!” she instructed, hoping not to have to waste all of their confetti on just one shoot.

Yuri complied, albeit begrudgingly, but only because it seemed to be the only way to put an end to this save for burning the place down. He gave her the smile she requested, posed with the cake, and shuffled his papers around a few more times to make it look like he had been working.

“Alright, that’s a wrap.” Agnes said at last “This should be enough to work with." She said as she began to pick what confetti she could from Yuri’s hair and place it back into the box.

“Ms. Joubert, I must ask, will something like this really be helpful to our image?” Yuri sighs.

Agnes closes up the box and sets it on the floor beside his desk.“Well, it will be interesting, that’s for sure.” she answered vaguely, “Thanks for your time, I think I can use what I got. I saw you eyeing it so you can keep the cake as compensation, just have the other stuff back to me by this evening.” She had already turned to leave before another thought popped into her head “Oh, and Yuri?”

Yuri, rather reluctantly, looked up with a questioning look. He prayed it wasn't another weird question or dumb photo idea.

“Maybe try to be a bit more cheerful sometimes, with an attitude like that people are going to start thinking you hate heroes or something. Plus, you actually look sort of pleasant when you’re smiling and having fun, even if you're just faking.” she shrugged. “Anyway, I’ll have a copy of the issue on your desk when it comes out.” she said, waving her crew after her and closing the door behind them.

Yuri, now alone in his trashed office, exhaled a sigh of relief at her departure. “I suppose the public wouldn’t be too pleased if they thought their judge hated heroes.” he remarks to himself as his glowing fingertips make contact with the candle wicks and set them alight. Once his hand had cooled he brushed it across the surface of his desk and collected the remaining confetti, repeating Agnes’s words from their phone call earlier about how anything can be a reason to celebrate. He took the stack of papers and shoved it into the bottom drawer of his desk. In a swift movement he sat back and tossed the confetti into the air above his head in celebration of ,what he just decided, was going to be a well deserved and much needed day off. As the scraps of paper rained down on him he recalled her other words and smiled to himself.

#tiger and bunny #tiger & bunny #tigerbunny10 #yuri petrov #agnes joubert #this was a really quick stream of conscious thing so i hope its not too bad!

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emilycollins00 · 4 years ago

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I LOVE LOVE your headcanons and scenarios so much I can't help but make a request!! How do you think Itaru would react if a colleague (reader) from work found out that he was a gamer, the complete opposite from his work persona and what becomes of their relationship after? THANK YOU SO MUCHH!!

YOU ARE SO VERY WELCOME, DEAR!! 💕 I feel so grateful to receive comments like these, ugh. Hope you like it!

Pairing: Itaru Chigasaki x Reader

Title: Forceful revelation

Itaru would never say he liked his job per se. It was more like he had had to get used to it if he wanted to buy his precious games plus a place to play them. Even after all this time working in the same department, he hadn’t tried to get promoted or cared about developing relationships with his colleagues.

Never felt like he needed those things.

He was content doing his expected hours and then going back home at the end of the day. Especially if next day was his day off, like that night.

Waiting for some final copies to be made, he noticed a few colleagues passing by, their jobs already done.

“Good work today, Chigasaki-kun”

Flashing an already practiced working smile, the blond wondered if he would ever remember their names just as much as they liked to remind him of his own “Good work you too”

Just as he predicted, he could hear the faint laugh of his co-workers entering the elevator. Itaru looked at the clock- Only a little more before he could leave. The blond sighed tiredly as he sat again on his desk.

Everyone at the dorm made fun of him, but there really was no heavier burden to carry than the pressure of having to uphold your image and reputation. It wasn’t as easy as he made it look.

“Chigasaki-san!”

You were a clear example of it.

Itaru didn’t have to lift his head to recognize your steps, but did it anyway. You were practically running and he felt even more tired just by watching you “Y/N-san” he greeted, not moving from his seat as he watched you regain your breath.

It had been a bit more than five months since you had transferred to his department at the company and he still didn’t know how to deal with your personality and your seemingly attachment to his working persona.

“Thank goodness I made it!” you smiled brightly as you regained your lost breath.

At first glance, you and Itaru weren’t that different. You both were usually congratulated for doing a good job at work and had overall good relationships with everyone.

However, Itaru knew better.

You had achieved much more than he had in all his years in such a short time. He even heard rumors that you would probably get promoted to manager by the end of the semester.

Which wasn’t surprising to him though, seeing you didn’t stop moving for a second from one project to another. What had your parent given you as a kid?

“...and so I was wondering if you knew the password for the projector they have in room 201? You know, the one with red chairs and a big plant on the corner”

Itaru hummed, looking around his desk to give you a copy of the passwords “Here you go, you can keep them”

“As expected of Chigasaki-san!” you accepted them happily.

The spring member’s smile faltered.

Honestly, it was annoying to be put by such high standards.

He had tried to not get close to you, hoping the polite distance he always kept with others worked, but so far, you were still practically glued to him whether it was to ask him for advice or commenting how much you respected him.

…If you knew how he really was, Itaru was sure you wouldn’t be talking about him so happily. Focusing again, he noticed you waiting for something “Sorry, what did you say, Y/N-san?”

“Ah! I heard you are taking tomorrow off?”

“Yes, some personal matters happened at home” he turned around to make you understand he had things to do “I already signed and prepared everything, so there shouldn’t be a problem to send without me the first draft to our fellow company, I already talked with their administration”

“You really are amazing” he heards you whisper impressed.

He didn’t comment on your compliment “Anyway if anything happens tomorrow, I’ll be counting on you, Y/N-san”

Exactly as he thought, you gasped, beaming happily at the thought of being relied on “Of course! Good luck with your personal matter!”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“I can’t believe you took a day off just to play games”

Izumi rested her hands on her hips when she discovered the spring member laying on the sofa, tracksuit on and shirt already filled with crumbs from the bag of chips next to him. He already had bags under his eyes.

“I did my overtime and this is how I chose my reward, director”

Rolling her eyes, she took her handbag, considering futile to argue with him “I’m going shopping and then to a meeting, make sure you don’t stay all day in that position, all right?”

Not breaking contact from his game, Itaru hummed a goodbye. Damn, thank god he had taken a day off. This event was being too competitive. He wouldn’t have been able to make the quests unless he spent last night and next 24 hours defending his rank.

At some point the doorbell started ringing “Someone is at the door” he called out loud to no one in particular.

The bell kept ringing. Where were Matsukawa or Citron supposed to be at times like this?

“Itaru, my ears! Open the door, dammit, open the door!” Kamekichi flew over him.

Groaning, he walked towards the entrance, eyes still fixed on the screen. Hadn’t he made it clear he wasn’t planning to move until tomorrow night? “Hey director, you should remember taking your keys when- Shit! How come these fuckers have so much luck? I’m gonna have to fucking sweep the floor with-”

“Chigasaki…san…?”

And for the first time since yesterday, slowly, Itaru broke contact with his controls.

No.

That couldn’t be you.

If anything, the situation happening was just the most lucid dream Itaru had ever had, because there was no way in hell that was real life.

“Itaru, who’s this jerk, want me to beat them up?” Kamekichi had landed on his shoulder, wings moving in an attempt to scare you, but neither of you reacted to it.

Gripping your bag, your face was white, looking like a scared puppy that had just encountered a scary and bigger dog “I, uh… really apologize for coming unannounced on your day off. Chief tried to contact you but, um, we couldn’t reach you and-“

“…Why are you here”

You shivered at the tone of his voice. You had never heard Itaru talk like that to anyone. Ever. You showed him an envelope “T-there’s this document chief needed that you forgot to sign for this afternoon meeting and…”

In silence, he grabbed them, scanning them with a stoic face. You could cut the mood with a knife “Pen” he opened his hand.

“A-ah, right!”

Barely exchanging looks, you took the signed papers and thanked him.

“Chigasa-“

“I hope that’s all, wouldn’t want you to come again and tire yourself out more”

You were practically shaking. Wishing him a good day, you turned and practically ran out of the place.

With the door closed, Itaru leaned his back on it, not even looking at the control resting on his hand.

Out of all the people he didn’t wish to show this side of him, somehow, unconsciously, you had become one of the firsts.

“…Well, shit”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When you finally took notice, you had already reached the station, breathing heavily. The situation that had happened moments ago struck you as surreal.

Itaru Chigasaki, your colleague at work, was what you would describe as the epitome of what you aspired to be. His charm, professionalism… could someone be any more perfect?

“I’m gonna have to fucking sweep the floor with…”

You shook your head, still not over it. You had never expected someone you admired so much to be so… different outside work.

Oh god, work.

You mentally groaned, already cringing at what scenario could possibly happen when he came back next week. As you entered the train, your mind started running wild. Would he accuse you? Joke about it? Although he hadn’t seemed comfortable… Wait, did people know about this? Would he threaten you to not say anything? The last thing you wanted was to be on bad terms with him!

As you sat on the platform, you noticed the crumbled documents in your hand, Itaru’s sign finally on them.

So much for a quick visit.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Neither of you talked about it when he came back next week.

Or the next one.

Time passed, and you were getting more and more anxious. Your blond colleague had never been someone who was cold to anyone, but it was more than clear that he had made a point not to interact with you under any circumstances, unless it was necessary.

Which was exactly why you understood his raised eyebrows looking at the coffee you had brought to his desk. Thankfully, he took the cup, bringing it to his lips “I believe I left all the files in your place, Y/N-san, do you need anything else?”

"Ah, well..." you had no idea what to say or how to react to him anymore. Itaru could feel it too, however, he didn’t try to alleviate the awkwardness.

It was painfully obvious how much it had shocked you seeing him at the dorm, so he didn’t understand why you kept trying to talk to him “You don’t have to force yourself, Y/N-san, people will notice things like that” he kept talking, his mouth covered by the cup

You opened your mouth to try and deny it but closed it, unable to. The awkward silence that had followed the last few days appearing again.

Pressing your lips together, you whispered an excuse and turned back to your own desk, dejected.

As he finished the coffee, Itaru couldn’t help but follow your figure. He had arrived expecting rumors about him, but no one seemed to have changed their demeanor.

So then, why did he feel like he was getting punched when you averted your eyes from his on meetings or he felt like being a dick to you when after it you tried to appease him?

Itaru leaned on his chair, sighing. Was it guilt?

You were someone who aspired to do your best with all you got, reminding him so much of people like Sakuya or director.

Maybe that’s why he felt like he had disappointed you, which made Itaru angrier and more confused. Why should he feel bad about it? It had been your fault. Leaving those thoughts aside he tried to concentrate again. It was actually better for him, now that he didn’t have to deal with you.

At least that’s what he repeated to himself.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It was almost dinner time when the doorbell at Mankai rang.

“I’ll go!” Izumi left the kitchen, opening the door and finding you there, not that the young woman knew you “Yes?”

“Hi, uh… Is Chigasaki-san inside? I’m a… colleague from work”

The young woman laughed nervously, looking inside and then back at you again “Is… Itaru-san expecting you?”

You shook your head “I can wait here if he prefers to change. I’m not in a hurry”

“Oh! Um… all right, I’ll call him. Please wait a second”

The door closed again, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm down. A minute later, the blond came out. You took another look at his appearance. It really was miles apart from his working persona.

“I figured it wouldn’t matter anymore” he shrugged, answering as if he had just read your thoughts. His personality was on another level too “Why are you here?”

You swallowed down “I... I am lazy too, Chigasaki-san!”

Frowning, Itaru opened his mouth confused “What are you… “

“I don’t like to clean at home and get overwhelmed easily! also, I hate waking up early and I don’t like waiting for the food to get cold and end up burning myself…!”

What were you doing shouting all those things about you?

“…I also tend to leave everything until the last minute because I love spending time on the phone and have to make up for it after and, uh, what I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable in your own house! But..!” you clenched your fists “You are still the Chigasaki-san that I admire and respect, it doesn’t matter if you behave differently outside work. You are you!”

Itaru stared at you, not knowing how to react to your outburst.

Seeing your expectant face waiting for his reaction, his mind suddenly compared it to how the spring troupe did that cringy act to keep him from leaving the dorm.

Noticing the similarities, he found himself smiling and then laughing, under you confused stare.

‘You are you!’

A tiny smile reached his face. It was as if the burden and guilt he had been carrying these weeks about being fake had lifted from his shoulders “…You really are something else”

You raised your hands, moving them to reject those words “I’m sorry! I just meant it was…!” Itaru kept staring at you with a smile you had never seen before and you blushed, not knowing how to behave right now.

“Ey, Y/N-san…”

“Y-yes?”

He looked at the dorm and then to you, smirking now “…Would you like to play some games?”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Fuck, Itaru-san I told you to wait! You are gonna kill me too if you throw that grenade now!”

“I don’t need weak people in my party” the blond pressed the bomb, eliminating every single person surrounding him “GG, Banri”

“SHIT! Why would you-!” they kept arguing until a knock was heard on the door

“May I come in?”

“Oh, Y/N-chan-san! It’s been a while” the high school boy turned around

You smiled at him “I know! There are a lot of things to take care of as a new manager… I brought some snacks as an apology though” you lifted a bag “I’m not late, am I?”

Itaru scoffed, still looking at the screen “Hey there, Y/N, more like I thought you had gotten scared”

You frowned, making space for yourself in the couch next to them “I never back down from a challenge Itaru, and you know it! You are just too enthusiastic when it comes to these things, so I have to prepare myself to kick your ass”

“Mmm… I wonder where did that ‘I admire you the most, Chigasaki-san’ attitude go. I kind of miss it”

“I can respect you and still want to see you eating dirt, you know”

The spring member snickered, stopping the game and giving you the controls “Yeah, yeah, let's show you how to really level up to the fullest to at least entertain me”

“You bet I will!”

Itaru wouldn’t say he tried hard to achieve big things or create ties with others, that just wasn’t his thing.

However, glancing at you talking to Banri about the best way to make him lose, he thought allowing you entering in his world hadn’t been so bad after all.

And he smiled. Guess relationships really worked like that.

_________________________________________________________

Hopefully you guys ended up liking it! Have a wonderful day! 💕

#A3! Actor Training Game #a3 act #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#a3 #a3 itaru #itaru chigasaki #a3! itaru #itaru #itaru x reader #chigasaki itaru #chigasaki itaru x reader #a3 x reader

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sandu-zidian · 4 years ago

Text

Blabbing about this Musician!au I started last summer that has now also turned into a marching band!au because I got sad and nostalgic because despite how shitty it could be, marching band defined my high school life and social life and I couldn’t had asked for anything else.

I also don’t have every single prequel character (because this au is surrounding the prequel characters) in Star Wars smacked into here, and I gave up halfway through a couple of months ago in terms of brainstorming. Anyways, this is hella long so check everything out under the line if you’d like! don’t want to spam everyone with something that’s like, 4 pages long

Now, you might be asking. What instruments are these characters playing, or what are they doing in marching band? well, boy oh boy do I have some lore for you.

Anakin Skywalker: alright lets start of with the “Chosen One”. Now, I gotta say. He’s got some intense brass vibes, specifically high brass. But I don’t know. He didn’t really mesh well. And given his natural talent with the Force in canon, I thought that Anakin would be a sort of prodigy. And we all know the two instruments associated with that: the piano and violin. He’s more of a piano dude, so here we go! piano prodigy Anakin Skywalker. He also gives mad drumline vibes, and I can see him as either the lead snare, setting the tempo, or the main quad player. He’s brash, slightly obnoxious, but damn is he fucking good at what he does.

Obi-Wan Kenobi: I literally started this AU on the idea that Obi-Wan would play the cello. One of the defining quotes for him is that fucking “infinite sadness” quote. And we all know that cellos play some of the saddest pieces out there. (see: Elgar cello concerto) However, I can’t see him as a marching band dude. He doesn’t really give off color guard vibes (since that’s where most non-band people go to) so I have him as the resident student helper who everyone tolerates because he brings ice cream after band camp.

Ahsoka Tano: Ahsoka is a flute player. As a flute player, I have intimate knowledge on this. She’s like the chill flute player who’s competitive enough to keep her position as principal, but is also chill enough to not have a big ego that butts heads with everyone. She also gives mad color guard vibes. Also speaking about that from personal experience (am I lowkey projecting my own experiences on her? you didn’t hear that from me). She seems like the type to love swing flags and sabre, and is 100% captain by senior year.

I have Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka as siblings in this AU because I say so. Qui-Gon is around here somewhere as the resident hippie dad who lowkey smokes pot and will support his children while giving a big ‘fuck you’ to Dooku.

Yoda’s also in here somewhere, and I love the idea that he’s an old Chinese/Asian man who refuses to speak english and will only do so with the most backwards grammar so his grandchild (Qui-Gon) and great-grandchildren (the trio) are forced to speak Mandarin/Cantonese to him (pick your poison). He just spends his days cutting up fruit and also might pull out his erhu if everyone asks nice enough. (I want to say he was a Peking Opera musician, but immigrated during Mao’s reign after he lost opportunities during the cultural revolution)

So, I know that it doesn’t make sense for a family to have 3 sets of twins and one triplet set, but fuck that I do what I want.

Cody Fett: okay so, Cody 100% plays the french horn. I don’t know, he just, he does. He’s got that air of sophistication because he can play the hardest brass instrument, but at the same time, he’s incredibly good at it and is matter-of-fact about it. He also would be the mello section leader (I was playing with the idea of drum major, but for now, leaving him as a section leader for now). He’s a bit uptight to be a low brass player, but cool enough to still be associated with the general brass group.

Rex Fett: I got Rex and Cody as the eldest Fett twins. Rex feels like a string player, so I have him on violin. I can see him be very hardworking and practicing diligently to the point where he easily sweeps through to concertmaster in high school and the local youth orchestra. He also gives of mad drum major vibes. I can see him copying music, handing out drill charts, and hauling the met around. Also, just think about Rex doing a fancy ass salute at competitions. Yes.

Next round of twins lets gooo

Jesse Fett: You could say Jesse has brass vibes. I see him as a reed person though. In concert band, he’s on clarinet. I used to think clarinets were as stuck up as us flutes but no they’re literally balls of chaotic energy ready to be unleashed. Just imagine Jesse blaming everything on his reed. I see him as the guy who switches to saxophone for marching band, though. He’s got the energy of the clarinet and the saxophone harnessed. Also, wouldn’t be surprised if he knows how to play the sousa.

Kix Fett: Y’know, when I originally made this AU, I had Kix as a musician as well. I’m gonna scratch that. He’s going to medical school, or at least, he’s planning to. He’s on the pre-med track and is dying in organic chemistry and wishes there weren’t so many pre-requisites. However, in high school, he definitely played the oboe. Of course Kix chose one of the hardest instruments to play. Also, just imagine him trying to make his own reeds. I don’t see him as a guy who’s in marching band. He’ll come to competitions and maybe football games if he’s bullied into it. Kix is the guy who’s classes are all AP and he’s dying inside.

Next round of twins yeet:

Fives Fett: shit, I forgot I gave them all real names. If I remember correctly, Fives is Frank. Anyways, trumpet vibes. Need I say more? He’s on the trumpet in marching band as well and he’s the dude who’s obsessed with DCI and always tries to play as high as he possibly can and absolutely demolishes his chops. I would say he’s section leader as well. He also hangs with the drumline at the back of the bus and always plays meme songs on blast and sends weird pictures to people’s phone via open airdrop.

Echo Fett: I think his birth name is Ethan??? I’m spitting thoughts not checking my old documents. Anyways. Echo feels like a string person. Specifically, low strings. So, he plays the bass. Upright bass. Whatever. You get what I mean. He sleeps in the case after school and hates hauling it everywhere. He was in marching band as a mello player (the easiest brass instrument to pick up for the activity so) but he was in a car crash that left him paralyzed from the hip down, and had to quit to recover. He never stopped playing, and found ways to adjust. (I do not know how exactly this would work, since I’m able bodied and also don’t play the bass, but I know he’d at least have a stool to sit on in order to lean his body on. let me know if you have other ideas i’d love to hear them!)

Finally, we got the triplets:

Dogma Fett: Dogma plays the bassoon. He’s a low reed kinda guy and between the bari sax, bass clarinet, and bassoon, he fits the last one the best. He and Kix moan over making reeds and he’s on the quieter side. He just vibes and plays all the low notes and has fun whenever he’s got some moving part. I see Dogma as someone who is only casually into marching band. He uses Jesse’s old student clarinet as his instrument and he’s always on time, knows his sets, and his technique is on point. He always finds himself roped into his brothers’ shenanigans though.

Tup Fett: Tup plays the harp. I like to think he met Shaak Ti (we’ll get to her in a bit) when he was young, and she was playing with an orchestra. He met her backstage and she offered to give him lessons. Tup’s not really a part of high school orchestra but sometimes he’ll be brought in. He’s more involved with solo work and the youth orchestra more than anything. Tup’s another on where I don’t think he’d be into marching band. Though I can see him being in winter guard as the dude who just shows up and is lowkey rip and therefore is a hunk on the rifle. His technique’s good but they’ve never been able to saddle him into fall guard.

Hardcase Fett: (i’ve given up on remembering the birth names so i’m just gonna not) Hardcase is 100% low brass vibes. He can’t be anything but a low brass. I see him as a tuba player. He’s chill, laid back, but also reliable for being the foundation of the band sound. He plays the sousaphone in marching band and always blasts either Seven Nation Army or some other popular show tune right after rehearsals. Hardcase also can play the bari sax and no one knows when he learned how to.

OKAY we’re done with the Fett’s! Jango and Boba are in here somewhere but honestly I don’t have enough brainpower to come up with what their roles are. Jango’s gonna be a good dad though. Maybe he was a musician and that’s why most of his kids are going into music. Or maybe he’s just a supportive father. Boba’s the youngest though, that’s for sure. And he’s a little shit. Don’t know if he plays an instrument (probably) or what it might be.

Now lets get into some other characters! There’s a lot. And I wasn’t even halfway done with the characters I wanted to include. What the hell was I on last summer?

Padmé Amidala: Padmé is a flute player who quit after freshman year of high school and started taking music production and music theory classes. She loved it so much that she decided that composing was her jam. Now, she’s highly successful and often works with well known pianist, Anakin Skywalker, on piano concertos. Also, she may or may not be dating said pianists but you didn’t hear that from me.

Satine Kryze: twosetters don’t shit on me but Satine feels like she’d play the viola. She and Obi-Obi-Wan definitely dated in high school but after a year broke up on mutual terms and are just good friends now. A lot of people feel like she’d have been a better political science/international studies major than a music major but she’s good so no one complains (until she gets into a fighting match with someone and wins smugly)

Bo-Katan Kryze: shes Satine’s younger sister and is a mad athlete. She doesn’t play any instruments but she’s deeply active and is on scholarship for college, on the pre-med track with Kix. She’s very scary and most people are too intimidated by her to approach.

Plo Koon: I originally had him as an asian man, but I can see Native American as well. He plays the euphonium and he’s just a sweet man. He helps out a lot with private lessons at local high schools and is often brought in to help with low brass during marching band.

Wolffe Koon: Wolffe and Gregor (get to him in a bit) were both adopted by Plo when their parents died when they were very young. Plo was their godfather and he took them in like they were his own. They’re cousins to the Fett brothers (though don’t ask me how I have no idea). Wolffe is an engineer and works close to home.

Gregor Koon: Gregor is Wolffe’s younger brother and had a short stint of musical interest in middle school but quit after he entered high school. Gregor was in a serious car crash during college that left him amnesiac for a year before some of his memories returned. He now owns a restaurant and sticks close to home. Wolffe often comes around to check up on him because his brain injury still impacts his current life in small physical and emotional dips

Kit Fisto: Kit gives off mad trombone vibes and it’s mostly because he seems incredibly laid back. He’s one of those brass players who’s just a nice guy and while jokes around, never got pulled into jokes as a student.

Shaak Ti: like I said above, Shaak Ti is most definitely a harpist. She has that ethereal quality I think is common in harpists. She’s a tall Indian woman and she loves her job! She’s a private lesson teacher and instructor at the conservatory on top of her job in the orchestra since she’s not called in often to play. She loves all her students and gives good hugs.

Mace Windu: Mace is the director of the Jedi Symphony, the orchestra which almost everyone is involved with. He is a bass player and he likes his more classical pieces over contemporary music. He’s good friends with Yoda and sometimes the old troll has to wack some sense into Windu and have him take on newer pieces. Windu 100% gives off unhinged director vibes because mistakes and lazy musicians definitely don’t end after high school/college is over.

Quinlan Vos: this lil shithead definitely is the obnoxious, slightly arrogant, but kind of deserving of that, percussionist. He loves his snare drum and is also in the drumline. He’s the same age as Obi-Wan and the two are close friends. Quinlan is definitely slightly unhinged and is always at the back of the bus causing havoc after competitions. He’s the guy that I (OP) hate but also can’t help but respect cuz yeah he’s annoying but at least he’s good.

Aayla Secura: Aayla is Quinn’s half-sister, and plays the French horn. Again, like Cody, she’s got this air of professionalism that I associate with French horn players and like, we gotta represent the girls in brass somehow. She just fits it really nicely.

I feel like now is the time to list who’s still in conservatory and who isn’t: Obi-Wan, Anakin, Rex, Cody, Jesse, Quinlan, Padmé, and Satine are all recent graduates. Ahsoka, Aayla, Fives, Echo, Tup, Dogma, and Hardcase are still in conservatory (at varying years of course). Kix and Bo are entering med school/frantically applying and banging their heads cuz MCATs. Wolffe and Gregor are older and have been in the field for quite some time now. Plo, Kit, Shaak, and Mace are all faculty/seasoned professionals.

Somehow, I was gonna bring in The Skiratas (with proper research cuz I know very little about them), Dooku, Ventress, the Oppress siblings, rest of Domino Squad, Cut Lawquene, the other CCs, and more. I designated a page out of my sketchbook for this and my oh my the flow chart was hella confusing. How I thought I was gonna handle that in the summer before my first year of college, I have no idea. Maybe I’ll brainstorm more in the future but for now, this is all I have :]]]

Also excuse some of my slightly unhinged language I started writing this a few days ago while slightly unfocused and tired and stressed so my language is a product of that

#star wars #meta #musician au #my thoughts #I miss marching band so fucking much #I miss DCI #and WGI #miss the community #even if it was pretty stressful at times cuz drama #people love their drama in band #I don’t blame them you get sick of people after band camp #star wars au

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takaraphoenix · 4 years ago

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*chanting* Danny Phantom, Danny Phantom, Danny---

Let me set the stage. The year is 2014, a friend of mine has successfully not just convinced me to watch this cartoon but also introduced me to the baffling concept that wait in this fandom, selfcest exists and is like vaguely popular? I was delighted!

So this story took off after 02x06 Identity Crisis, when Danny’s ghost and human side were split in canon. Phantom started to develop more of an on personality in Danny’s mind, a comforting presence, but they were now two souls trapped in one body. And, here’s where my memory fails me a bit on the “how?” but somehow, they would manage to split into two separate bodies, one full ghost, one full human.

The endgame was that they get married and adopt and raise Dani together, like on the very long run. And yes, long, because this was supposed to be a rewrite of the entire consequent show post 02x06.

And though I only ever got three pages written, the document has remained in my folder for those past six years, because I did make notes on the changes I had planned throughout the show and I guess that a part of me remained hopeful that hey, just maybe once I rewatch the show, I’ll get back into it and actually finish it.

(...man I really hope the vase metaphor makes sense. I had, still have, a very clear visual picture of what I meant with that xD”) But here, have a snippet:

It had started out how everything that ended in chaos, catastrophes and crisis in his life had always started. With one of his parents' inventions. Of course it did, it had to.

The Fenton Ghost Catcher.

The first time he became they. Splitting one person into two different, separate beings.

Sometimes Danny wondered if Sam and Tucker truly believed that going through the catcher again (and again because the second time had failed in the most confusing and weird way. Which was saying a lot considering the first time) would simply fix things again? Make them one again?

How could it? It had created two separate entities. Splitting his personality.

Phantom had explained it to Danny the first time he had asked what this meant, how this was possible. Right after the two of them had gone through the catcher to 'fix things', just to notice that Danny wasn't alone in his mind anymore. That he was hearing a voice, a voice he wasn't controlling, one that spoke to him. Another mind inside his head. Phantom's mind.

Now, Phantom had explained it with a metaphor. He had described them as a vase – which was weird for Danny, but he had gone with it and listened patiently anyway. A white vase. Danny Fenton was the vase and when he had gone into the ghost portal for the first time, one half of that white vase had been painted black. Creating Danny Phantom. Now that vase was facing society with its white side, everyone who walked past it saw a white vase. If someone came and just spun the vase around once, everyone who would walk past that vase would see a black vase. Just like when Danny would 'go ghost', turning human Danny into ghost Danny.

Going through the Fenton Ghost Catcher was like breaking the vase, a clear cut right in the middle. But it was more than just breaking the vase, it was like fixing each half with a flat part to close it, creating two working vases that coexisted. Going through the Ghost Catcher again didn't just put the vase back into its original form though, it just took the two fixed-up vases and glued the flat sides together. It looked like one, whole vase again and they couldn't stand beside one another anymore, but the water one poured into the white half wouldn't fill the black half. They were still two different vases, just now stuck together again.

And so were Danny and Phantom now. Two minds forced back into one head. And just like the vase, the half turned to the front was the half 'in charge'. When the black half of the vase was turned to the front, filled with water and holding the flowers, that was when Danny would go ghost from now on. Giving the reins over to Phantom, who took charge of their body.

Danny was a freaking vase.

It gave him a headache, really, so he decided to just nod and agree. They had been split and they couldn't be put back together to one, he got it that far. At first, that annoyed and scared him. Because there was that constant, nagging voice – Phantom had a lot to complain and it distracted Danny from the actual situation he was in, causing Mister Lancer, his parents and his friends to scold him for spacing out. What scared him however was the essential question.

Was he still himself? Had the split taken part of his personality away from him, given it to Phantom? Was he still the person he thought he was? But no one noticed a change in him. Where Tucker had claimed the human Danny to be 'fun Danny' before, now he and everyone else seemed to see Danny as just Danny. But that had only unsettled him even more.

If nothing of his personality was missing, then what exactly was Phantom?

“I'm not you. We're not split anymore. We're both separate people now, Danny. Why can't you wrap our head around that? I explained it often enough by now”, complained Phantom's voice annoyed.

Because it was strange and weird and confusing, really. Wouldn't that mean they weren't the ones who had come out of the Catcher after all? Because Danny wasn't so careless and uninterested in saving lives anymore, he was back to his overly worried and self-sacrificing self. And Phantom had finally stopped with his stupid alliterations, he still spoke a little high-and-mighty and seemed more intelligent than Danny though (if Danny was being honest, which he didn't like, because seriously, he wasn't even the cleverest person in his own mind anymore. How was that fair?).

“We evened out. Like the vases. I don't feel like you truly grasp the metaphor, do you? I've really tried putting it simple for you, Danny. We were fixed, like the two halves of the vase. Being glued together again changed our dynamic once more, just like breaking us apart had. We were two extremes – the heroic ghost and the carefree human. Now you're as much a complete person as I am, even though we have been split from the same. I am still the hero and protector of Amity, but it's not the only interest I have anymore. Just like you have concerns for other things aside from fun”, replied Phantom, sounding bored. “However, we adjusted differently. Not evening out to be exact copies of one another. Now we're two different people.”

Two different people, but stuck in one mind.

“You're not happy with that, I gathered as much”, sighed Phantom.

“It's not that”, muttered Danny beneath his breath, knowing it wasn't necessary for him to talk out loud, but very much feeling like this was important enough to be properly discussed. “I... like having you around. But it's just... draining. And confusing. I think Jazz is that short of stuffing us into a straight-jacket, you know? I'm worried about that. And it's depressing that I'm the only one who can hear you when we talk, which did lead to the whole Jazz wanting us in a straight-jacket thing to begin with. And sometimes I just... want you there, like physically there, when I talk with Tuck and Sam, because you're like the only one who really understand me, you know? Like, they can be really stubborn and they don't get me, but I know you would and you would be able to explain stuff in a way they'd get it too, because you're just better at those things...”

In Danny's mind, he could picture Phantom grinning at that. If Phantom would be here now, he so would be rolling his eyes and grinning, Danny just knew it. And it irritated him that he couldn't see it. But the Ghost Catcher was broken, had been broken a couple days ago. And there was no other way either of them could think of to separate them.

Send me a document title from my WIP folder and ask me about it! If I can, I’ll provide a snippet!

#Pitch Pearl #PitchPearl #Danny Phantom #WIP Doc Ask Game #send me asks #wonderdoves

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takonei · 4 years ago

Text

Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 6, Investigation (Part 3)

Note of the author: jfc this investigation is long. But that’s to expect from chapter 6. Also: Updated the warning list. Please check before reading.

Also I apologize for the terrible formatting at a certain point in the chapter. Tumblr is a bitch. If it really bothers you, I suggest reading on AO3.

Chapter 6: My killing game, our killing game

...

Miu and Shuichi stared at each other.

"So... What is even left to investigate in this room?" Shuichi looked around.

The wall with Motherkuma was covered, Kokichi and Kirumi were taking care of the computer, and all that was left was, well, a kitchen. A simple trashcan, a fridge, and several cupboards.

Miu shrugged. "Well, I would hate myself if some clues were hidden in this section and we ignored them because we said 'who would hide major clues in the fridge?', if you know what I mean."

She started making her way there. Shuichi blinked, a bit confused by her statement. Who would even hide evidence in a fridge?!

But perhaps she was right. He could try to look up in those strange places.

He opened a cupboard to see packs of coffee and different types of food: Almonds, dry nuts, and other non-sugary snacks. Whoever owned this place clearly didn't have a sweet tooth.

"Why the hell are there hard drugs in the fridge??"

Shuichi immediately turned around to see Miu holding what looked like a blister of tablets. "What do you mean 'hard drugs'?!"

She looked just as confused. "I don't know, there are dozens of them in the fridge, that's the last thing I expected to see here."

He approached the fridge to see what she was talking about. And true to her words, dozens of blisters were placed there. He could only stare wide-eyed at the questionable sight.

Miu sighed. "I am seriously wondering what the hell is going on in the mastermind's head."

"For now let's just... Put it back where it was." Shuichi said.

Obtained truth bullet! Drugs in the fridge

He closed the fridge, then turned back to his friend.

Miu shook her head. "Anyway, let's just- let's just investigate somewhere else!"

It was clear she was asking herself as many questions as him.

Why would the mastermind need drugs…?

Shuichi eyed the trashcan on the side. It was ridiculous, but judging by what they found in the fridge, he wouldn't be surprised if something important was in there.

He lifted and shook the bin to empty it on the ground. And just as he thought, two items fell off. It was... a book and a USB key?

The book was heavy and old-looking, although that aspect looked like it was done on purpose. It didn't have anything written on the cover nor on the back, but instead, he could feel his eyes staring at the odd and mysterious decorations on the front. If anything, it looked like a dark magic grimoire.

He opened it and saw the title on the first page.

"'Necronomicon'...?"

Shuichi flipped through the pages. He felt his heart skip a beat when he saw a resurrection ritual being mentioned, but his hopes were cut short when he noticed that all the pages had tacky doodles of Monokuma everywhere. It was very hard to take this book seriously, and it probably didn't have any real value. No wonder it was thrown in a trashcan.

But where did it come from? That was another mystery...

He set the book down and took the USB key. Black and white with Monokuma's signature eye on it. But on a closer look, it didn't seem to be a USB key. Perhaps another storage system that didn't fit a normal computer.

Whatever these were for, they had a reason to be here. And he would have to find it.

Obtained truth bullet! Book and key

He took them both to show them to Miu. Perhaps she will know more about their uses than him.

"Hey... Did you find anything yet?" he asked.

The blonde woman closed the cupboard she was searching in. "Nope. What are these?" she pointed at the two objects.

He handed the book to her.

"I found them in the trashcan. It looks like Monokuma wrote the book, but... I don't really get it. What is it even for?"

Miu inspected the cover and back of the book. She opened it and looked at the inside cover.

"... I've seen this pattern before. I don't know where, but I've seen it."

Shuichi raised an eyebrow and his friend showed him.

However, it was a simple abstract mix of black and dark grey hues. There wasn't anything concrete, just monochrome splashes.

"Are you sure that's not just... a random pattern?"

"Hey! Don't doubt my-

She abruptly stopped herself. Shuichi felt guilty seeing her fierce expression deteriorate into sorrow. "Nevermind... Maybe I'm hallucinating as you say."

Miu gave back the book. "As for the key, I don't have a clue. Never seen anything like that before."

He glanced away. It wasn't his intention to make her doubt her abilities as an artist, but he did. But before he could apologize, she walked away to the next cupboard to inspect, clearly wanting this conversation to end.

… Perhaps he should do the same.

After putting the book and the key on the table next to the sink, the blue-eyed teen opened the next cupboard.

But just as he tried to reach inside, something heavy fell from the top of the shelf directly on his head. He heard the object hitting the ground as he rubbed the spot.

Of course, he would get karma for that with Kokichi a few meters away from him.

But what had hit him?

He looked on the ground to see a... hacking gun?

Shuichi inspected it. It was remarkably similar to the ones Ryoma had created, if not the same. But this one was painted differently and had started accumulating dust. It was black and white, and the symbol on the side was Monokuma's red eye instead of Ryoma's sigil.

With the dust, it looked like it was created before the actual hacking guns, but Ryoma hadn't built this one for sure.

Upon turning it on, his eyes widened as he looked at the number of shots left in the gun.

49.

It had been used once before, but... By whom?

Obtained truth bullet! Hacking gun

Shuichi set the gun on the table and sighed.

None of these ‘clues’ led to anything other than more questions. It was frustrating.

He turned to Miu, perhaps she would-

...

She was staring at a document with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Miu...?"

Her eyes shot up to his, and he instantly felt a chill down his spine.

She was filled with pure terror.

She swallowed and walked up to him, clenching the paper tightly.

"Shuichi, what the hell is this?!"

The blonde shoved the paper in his face.

He stumbled on his feet and took the paper, confused.

...

What...

What the hell was this?!

"Saihara... family contract...?"

Miu was silent as he was reading, the dread slowly settling on his face.

It was a contract between his family and an organization known as ‘Team Danganronpa’ to finance and advertise a killing game with himself as the ‘protagonist’.

"Did you or did you not sign that shit?!"

Her voice became louder, and his heart started racing in his chest.

"I-I don't remember any of this! I've never seen this paper in my life!!"

"Then whose signature is at the bottom?!"

...

He froze.

His gaze drifted right next to the scarlet red stamp that had the form of Monokuma's eye, on the three signatures written in dark blue ink.

Respectively his father, his mother... and himself.

He felt his throat tighten at the sight of his own handwriting.

Shuichi Saihara.

His hands were trembling as he kept staring at the paper.

Shuichi Saihara.

It was the truth, wasn't it?

His family was responsible for the killing game.

He was responsible for the killing game.

…

Everything became white noise. He could feel his senses leaving him.

All he could see was his own handwriting. Blue stains from a past he could not remember, taunting him endlessly. All he could hear were muffled voices clashing together, drowned in a constant dissonant ringing that didn’t want to stop. All he could feel between his fingers was the paper stained with his own mistakes, now wet with the warm, fat tears he didn't even feel falling.

...

What...

What had he done?

What kind of monster was he?!

The noise became louder and louder, until...

Shuichi felt the paper being taken from his hands, and everything instantly became clearer in his mind.

He raised his head to look at Kokichi and Kirumi, who had joined them supposedly because of the ruckus. The latter was reading the paper with an unreadable expression.

Her intense green eyes suddenly met his. The cold wave was another hit to the chest.

There was a long silence in the room.

"This is your signature, isn't it?"

Unable to mutter a word, he closed his eyes, breaking the painful eye contact. "... It is."

For some reason, he couldn't feel her judgmental gaze on him. What was she thinking about?

They had all the reasons to hate him, and he deserved it. He agreed to make them suffer, to let them die and decay miserably, away from their loved ones.

Rantaro's words kept playing in his head.

He may not remember it, but the evidence was here. He did sign this. He agreed to let them rot.

And he doesn't even remember it.

"I'm... I'm sorry I... I don’t…"

The three pairs of eyes were surely locked on him, but the words never came out of their mouths.

...

"Kirumi... What do you think of all of this?"

He couldn't bear looking at her.

"... Something about this contract doesn’t sit right with me."

Shuichi felt his heart skip a bit.

"I do not know what, though.” She brushed the paper with her fingers.

“I do not think this is the original but rather a copy. However, correct me if I’m wrong, Miu…” Kirumi gave the paper to the other girl. “… But the writing does give me the impression that this was not edited in any way.”

“I don't have any reason to think that this contract was faked, but... It's too easy."

He heard Kokichi shifting his feet to turn to her. "What do you mean?"

"Miu, you find this in a cupboard of all places." she said. "Not a safe, not in a drawer, but a cupboard anyone could open, in the middle of glasses and plates. Why would a contract that important be here, and not in a secured place, or at least a real drawer?"

Shuichi lifted his head.

"From what I remember, I have spent countless hours in mansions either stealing important documents, taking care of evidence that could expose me as the culprit, and sometimes placing fake evidence to incriminate another maid or worker."

"And never have I ever found a document that important in a cupboard nor have I ever placed fake evidence here."

Miu seemed to ponder for a moment. "And... What do you think that means?"

She sighed. "To me, there are no logical explanations. The mastermind is just making a fool out of us."

The blonde's eyes widened. "You're the one who said this thing couldn't have been faked! It has to come from somewhere!"

"It's… exactly like the Sanzu garden."

The three turned to Kokichi.

"Kiyo... He had made his plan because the mastermind knew Tsumugi's attitude was suspicious to him! They manipulated the academy for days to separate us! Maybe they're doing the same here to throw us off!"

Shuichi's eyes widened. "You... You think so? But-

"You might be right. That's the most plausible theory in my eyes." Kirumi interrupted him.

"With the proof that our memories could have been altered, I decided to only trust the memories we made in this killing game, and nothing else."

"And perhaps you guys should do too."

"So you think... Shuichi doesn't have anything to do with the creation of the killing game?" Miu hesitantly asked.

...

Silence.

"Maybe, maybe not. Because our memories may have been altered doesn't ultimately prove his innocence. This contract looks real, after all." she said.

"But Kokichi is right. Letting our emotions get the best of us would be our greatest mistake, and that's exactly what the mastermind wants right now."

His other two friends nodded in understanding.

... But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to feel relieved by her words.

After all, he might be more of a monster than he remembers.

And that terrified him.

Obtained truth bullet! Saihara family contract

Shuichi still had trouble looking at any of his friends.

"Should we... go back to the computer?" Kokichi broke the silence.

"Of course."

Miu, Kokichi, and Kirumi started walking towards the engine. But Shuichi still had a word to say.

"Kirumi..." he muttered.

She stopped in her tracks.

"Why did you defend me?"

The young woman said nothing, then side-eyed him.

“First of all, learn when it is appropriate to start conflicts between us.”

He winced at the remark.

"I don't know what you did before we all met. I don't know why you supposedly agreed to finance this killing game.”

“You could even be faking your emotions and try to create unnecessary conflicts to make sure we don’t find enough hints to end this killing game for all I know."

"You may have signed this contract, but I could be worse than you in every way imaginable, rotten to the core and deserving hell more than anyone else on this wretched planet. I remember being a mercenary, I might as well be the devil."

"To blame you for everything that happened to me, knowing there is a possibility that I am a monster viler and more vicious than you could ever be... would make me a hypocrite."

Shuichi pondered to himself, eyes low.

"Kirumi! You coming?" Miu's voice took them out of their thoughts.

"I'm here."

The sound of her heels resonated in his ears. He followed them, and his eyes landed on the computer screen.

The long-haired girl started typing again. "I don't know what I can do at this point. As I said, I'm not an expert hack-

Kirumi was interrupted by a sudden explosion that blew up the door that was right next to them, scattering debris and... burned books?

He had forgotten about the door leading to the library. And standing there, a cannon pointed at the room, was Monoshi.

"SECRET-ENTRANCE-UNLOCKED: LIBRARY. NO-SECRET-ENTRANCES-REMAINING."

The modified bear left as suddenly as he came, leaving a gaping hole replacing the sealed door between the two rooms.

"Guys! Look!"

Shuichi suddenly turned to Miu.

"We finally got access to the computer!"

Kirumi raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "How...? I didn't even enter anything."

Shuichi hummed. "Maybe... Karma did the job?"

"Whatever happened, it worked. We shouldn't waste time wondering about that right now." Miu scanned the screen with her eyes.

There were several applications and files, it was hard to choose what to click first.

"Look, there's a file called 'flashback light list', maybe we should start with that?" Shuichi suggested.

Miu clicked on the file.

Sixteen files, all named with... Two letters.

"Okay... What are we choosing first?" the blue-eyed teen asked.

"The first, duh."

The blonde clicked on the file named "AY".

Anterior_AY.cmr Chapter_2_AY.cmr Chapter_3_AY.cmr Chapter_4_AY.cmr Chapter_5_AY.cmr Character_AY.ccr Motive_05_AY.ccr Motive_05_END_AY.cmr Talent_AY.cpr

Miu frowned. "... I have several questions."

"The ‘character’ file matches what we saw in the flashback lights guide." Kirumi noted.

"But what about the 'chapter' ones?" Shuichi asked.

Kokichi blinked. "I don't even know what I'm looking at."

He couldn’t deny things were very confusing, whether they knew what was in the guide or not.

"Maybe we should check the others...?" the other boy suggested.

Miu went back and clicked on the second file: "GG". It was the exact same list, with the 'AY' replaced by 'GG' except...

The 'Motive_05' files were missing.

"Could you go back for a second, Miu?" Kirumi frowned.

The girl did as told.

The other stared at the screen for a moment. "... Those are our initials. Each of those files is about us."

Shuichi's eyes widened. But just as she said, he noticed the file named 'SS'. And indeed, the list was about them.

AY, GG, HY, KA, KM, KT, KO, KS, MH, MI, RA, RH, SS, TC, TI and TS.

Miu immediately clicked on her file. It had all the same files as the others, without the 'Motive_05' ones.

"What the hell...?" she muttered.

They checked each of the files to spot the differences.

Angie had the 'Motive_05_AY.ccr' and the 'Motive_05_END_AY.cmr' files.

Ryoma had 'Motive_05_RH.ccr' and 'Motive_05_END_HR.cmr'.

Tsumugi had 'Motive_05_TS.cmr' and 'Motive_05_END_TS.cmr'.

However...

Kokichi was missing the 'Talent' file.

Shuichi was missing the 'Character' file.

Kirumi was missing the 'Anterior' file.

And Tatsuya was missing those exact three files.

Shuichi swallowed. Should he be happy that he didn't have a 'character' file? Should he be mad? Worried?

He didn't know.

All those files were the same for everyone, except the initials at the end of each of them, unique to each participant.

But Kirumi, Kokichi and Tatsuya... Why were they missing files?

Especially Tatsuya. He would understand if he was a robot like they all thought until tonight, but Tatsuya was a human just like them before being transferred into K1-B0.

...

When were those flashback lights even created?

Obtained truth bullet! Flashback light list

Miu turned to the others- those with the missing files.

"I don't get it... I know I should be mad that I have those flashback light files but what about you guys? Why are you missing some of those files?"

Shuichi nervously looked away. "I wish I knew..."

Kokichi was still staring at the screen. "I think we skipped a file..."

Miu froze. "I-I don't know what you're talking about?"

She was clearly lying.

Shuichi scanned the screen, until...

"... It's Rantaro's file, isn't it?"

Her shoulders dropped, her hands clenching into fists.

"I... I don't know what it's gonna be and I'm scared."

Kirumi crossed her arms. "Unfortunately, he could be like us, missing a file. We have to know if there is a difference.”

She swallowed and clicked.

And indeed, his file was different. But not in the way they expected.

Anterior_RA.cmr Chapter_2_RA.cmr Chapter_3_RA.cmr Chapter_4_RA.cmr Chapter_5_RA.cmr Character_RA.ccr EmergencyTherapyRantaro.ccr Talent_RA.cpr

Shuichi's eyes widened.

What the hell was this new file?!

Miu jumped from her seat. "Emergency therapy...?"

She didn't think and immediately clicked on the odd file to open it. But...

... An error message popped up, indicating that the file was corrupted and thus impossible to recover.

They stared at it, defeated. They didn't even do anything, but it still felt like they failed at keeping one person safe.

Seeing a file named 'Emergency Therapy' exclusively for Rantaro corrupted and beyond repair gave him a sick feeling in his stomach.

If there was one file that they had needed, it was this one. And yet, it was completely ruined.

This message reeked irony, and Shuichi hated it.

Obtained truth bullet! Corrupted file

Miu slammed her hands on the table. "Why?! This isn't fucking fair! Why is this file even here if it's just to stand there and taunt us?!"

...

No response.

Indeed, why did this file even exist? Why would the mastermind even create this?

The more they searched through this room, the less he understood their intentions. It was getting harder and harder to look at the hints and clues that were ‘offered’ to them.

But was there really something to understand?

The mastermind was a monster. Someone who would make them suffer for their own amusement no matter what. But...

'The 'mastermind' is only a pawn in the greater scheme that this killing game is.'

If they were merely a pawn, then how disgusting were the people above them...?

... This was terrifying to think about.

Kirumi leaned forward and closed the error window. At least they wouldn't have to look at it anymore.

The girl next to her stared at the file's name. She seemed to ponder to herself.

"Hey, is it me or..." she trailed off. "... Nevermind."

She closed the tab. No one wanted to see those files anymore- this grotesque mockery of their despair.

Shuichi couldn't find the courage to look at the screen anymore.

Kokichi broke the silence. "Was this icon here before?"

He pointed at a logo that looked like Monokuma's eye. Titled 'FLIBD - SRD subjects'.

Kirumi frowned. "No... It definitely wasn't there."

Miu got the message and clicked on it.

What appeared before them looked like an information sheet. A picture of a young girl their age, and some data about her.

She had incredibly beautiful traits, the bright blue eyes of a doll, and voluminous blond hair attached in two pigtails. She wore a thin black necklace that contrasted a lot with her fair skin.

But something caught his attention. His heart skipped a beat when his eyes landed on the hairpins.

Two Monokuma heads, one fully white on the left and one fully black on the right.

"W-Who the hell is she?!"

"She's wearing Monokuma like a fucking trophy. Whoever she is, I already don't trust her." Miu hissed.

Only an ally of Monokuma would wear such a gross accessory.

"Her name is Junko Enoshima, according to the info on the profile." Kirumi noted.

Junko Enoshima...

He has never heard this name before in his life.

At least, from what he remembers.

Was she part of those behind the killing game as a whole?

Obtained truth bullet! Junko Enoshima

They decided to look into the written details about her.

Junko Enoshima - #01-006 Ultimate analytical prowess - Type primary: O Type secondary: M Intensity: A- High Beginning: / Conflict status: Tame Keyword: Despair Status: Dead - 6M - 1/26

"Wait, she's dead?" Miu raised an eyebrow.

"Apparently so." Kirumi said. "Although I do not know what the '6M' means."

Shuichi neither. But what did those 'types' even mean? And all the other info given here?

"Wait, look at the keyword!" Kokichi said. "Isn't Monokuma always babbling about despair?"

"So you do think she has some kind of relationship with Monokuma, right?" Shuichi asked.

"She has Monokuma hairpins, so there's no questioning that." Miu turned to her friends. "She does give me the impression that she’s like… The creator or something."

The creator of Monokuma...?

"But she's dead! Does that mean the mastermind was her, but she was actually dead all along?" Shuichi exclaimed.

"I don't think the mastermind is dead. Someone has to take care of Monokuma and the killing game somehow." Kirumi pondered. "Though I don't deny she must have a connection with him."

Shuichi stared at the screen. "Wait, there's a '1/26' at the bottom of the screen... Are there other people like her?"

Miu span around to face the screen. "That's what we'll find out."

She tapped the right arrow on the keyboard, and another information sheet appeared. But the person on the screen looked... Completely unrelated.

It was a boy this time. His face gave Shuichi chills. He looked like he was a ghost. Messy hair white as snow with weak scarlet ends, and skin almost as pale as a corpse. His grey eyes looked empty, devoid of life. He seemed to be wearing a green hoodie, but he could only guess. However...

... He did not wear a single accessory related to Monokuma.

Nagito Komaeda - #02-028 Ultimate lucky student - Type primary: O Type secondary: / Intensity: A- High Beginning: / Conflict status: Tame Keyword: Hope Status: Dead - 5V/S – Terminated - 2/26

"Dead too?!" Miu yelled. "Are all of these people dead?!"

"This one indicates 'terminated'. That was not on the first one." Kirumi pointed out.

Whatever that meant, it was not a good sign.

"But look... The keyword..." Kokichi said.

Hope.

The exact opposite of Junko Enoshima.

"Do they or do they not work for Monokuma?" Miu raised an eyebrow. "It's confusing as hell."

"I don't think we were right when we assumed this was a list of those who worked for the game." Kirumi explained. "This is something else. The icon said 'subjects' with two acronyms. But if we don't know what the acronyms mean, we are not going to get far."

Subjects...?

It sounded like an experiment. This was... worrying, to say the least.

"So what? Do we look at the other info sheets to see what is actually going on?" Miu suggested.

"We can only try."

And so, they did. Each of those info sheets contained the same kind of info, although the parameters changed.

There didn't seem to be a pattern in the talents- they were at random, from art, to knowledge, and sometimes even murder related. Ultimate vocalist, assassin, poet, anthropologist, psychiatrist… How many ultimate students even existed in the world?

The ‘types’ changed letters. Some had both primary and secondary filled, some had only the primary.

The intensity part was generally either low or moderate. Sometimes it was marked as 'high', but only on rare occasions. The letter 'A' also seemed to have turned to an 'N' around the 5th person.

But he also noticed that for some, unlike the two first, the 'beginning' part was filled. Sometimes it was a person's death, a day, a random event, and sometimes... A trial? They did wonder if other ultimates had been in a killing game just like them.

The fact that they were probably not the first victims made Shuichi want to puke.

They then noted that the 'beginning' part was only filled for those with the letter N in the ‘intensity’ part.

The 'conflict status' part was completely random, with no apparent pattern. This was probably the part he understood the less.

On the keyword part was often noted notions or concepts, but he had seen a name or two on these info sheets.

As the status...

All dead.

Not a single one was noted 'alive'. One or two had the 'terminated' note, but all of them were dead, for some reason or another.

It was painful to look at, even though none of them recognized any of the people in the pictures, or even the names.

On the 25th info sheet, Miu clicked on the keyboard to see the last person, and...

It was like time had stopped.

They recognized this face all too well.

Messy green hair, an intense emerald gaze powerful enough to petrify someone, and young, slightly feminine traits on a male teenager they had all known as...

"R-Rantaro...?" Miu muttered, her voice shaking.

This was him. There was no doubt about it. But... Why...?

Rantaro Amami - #53-844 Ultimate medic - Type primary: T Type secondary: P Intensity: N- High Beginning: Tsumugi Shirogane's death ~ Ch4 trial ~ Night 16 Conflict status: Very aggressive Keyword: Save Status: Dead - 5E - 26/26

"W-What does Rantaro have to do with these people?!" Kokichi exclaimed with his feeble voice.

Kirumi approached the screen and narrowed her eyes at the picture that was in front of them. "As much as I hate to say this, we will probably get a better understanding of this list with him there."

Unfortunately, she was right.

However, something immediately bugged him. "Hey, is it me or are those '53' everywhere? This is the third time in a row I've seen the number written.”

Kokichi turned to him. "Wasn't it also written on Keebo's plans?"

Shuichi's eyes widened. "It was! I don't get what it means, though."

"Can we talk about like, everything else?" Miu frowned with a mix of both confusion and annoyance.

Perhaps it was nervousness that made him focus on the less important details. Whatever the reason, he hated it. The rest of the information was much more primordial to their investigation and understanding of the situation, after all.

"'Tsumugi's death’, ‘Ch4 trial’, and a certain night…“ Shuichi muttered to himself, low enough so he wouldn’t be heard by anyone.

He did have an idea of what had happened during that time, but… He didn’t have the courage to say it out loud.

Kirumi was reading the info sheet. She seemed to be focused on trying to get a clue out of this.

“Did you… figure out anything?”

She only narrowed her eyes. “I do have a theory, but it lacks evidence, so I suggest you take what I say with a grain of salt.”

“I do believe this has something to do with his mental state.”

Bingo.

“What do you mean?” Miu raised an eyebrow. “I mean… We all figured out something wasn’t right, but… What does this have to do with that?” she gestured to the info sheet.

Kirumi seemed to be choosing her words, then sighed.

“It’s after Tsumugi’s death that he… started acting strange, to put it lightly. And as much as I tried to talk to him about it during the last few days, it was useless.”

Shuichi felt his heart sting as those moments started invading his mind again. The fourth trial was a nightmare. Four hours of figuring out who had orchestrated Tsumugi’s execution, and a quarter of it was spent deciding if it was Rantaro’s most trusted friend or the beloved therapist who was the culprit.

And the fifth trial… He didn’t even want to think about it.

“Hold on, you knew he was in this state and you didn’t say anything?” Miu frowned.

… He didn’t like where this was going.

“Look, some things happened that you probably don’t want to know. This group was already fragile to begin with. To tell you the truth would have been like smashing an already collapsing vase with a baseball bat.”

“And you just left him alone thinking telling us would have made things worse than they already were?!” she yelled.

“I severely fucked up, I know that already!! Don’t you think I realized by now?!” Kirumi’s voice was growing louder, filled with rage.

Her eyes, bright green, and a glare as powerful as…

Shuichi instinctively took a step back.

“Why didn’t you tell us?!” the other girl stood up. “What did you have to gain by doing your little thing alone on your side?!”

“Miu-“ he approached her.

“Shut it! It’s between me and her!”

“No! I’m just as much at fault for this if not more!”

She stopped. Everyone turned to him.

Oh no.

“You… What?”

He turned away. “I… I knew about this as much as Kirumi. I’m the one who told her in the first place. I tried to investigate with her but… We were never successful. He always turned us away.”

Kirumi looked at him, silently.

“And what’s your excuse? Why did you decide to hide all of this from m- from us?”

He could tell Miu was mad. But her anger was not his biggest concern.

Why was this moment still intact in his mind, replaying itself over and over again?

The cold blade against his throat, steady and ready to slice through it like a vulgar piece of meat.

A gaze… His gaze…

“I-I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Please.”

He felt his voice cracking at the last word. He probably looked miserable, which was something that happened way too often for his liking.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. He couldn’t blame Miu for wanting to know, but that was not something he wanted to even think about right now.

Kirumi sighed. “Look, Miu. I know we messed up. You have every right to be mad. But this-“ she vaguely gestured at the group. “-is exactly what I wanted to avoid at a time like this. If you want, you can take a small break while we continue to investigate.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s fine. It’s just… a lot to take in. All of this.”

While he knew she could not even begin to understand how he felt back there, to learn that two of your friends hid such important things about the person you cared about the most…

Miu rubbed her eyes. “I’m fine. Let’s just- let’s just keep going. Sorry for the outburst.”

Kirumi put a hand on her shoulder. “Listen. I might have been too harsh and I’m sorry. When I say take a break, I mean it.”

She lowered her gaze. “… Alright, I’ll- I’ll be right back.”

Miu walked to the back of the room. She needed time for herself, and Shuichi respected that.

Kokichi glanced at them both. He looked like he wanted to ask about what had happened but didn’t dare to.

“It’s… It’s complicated.” Shuichi muttered.

“I wasn’t going to ask… I’m just wondering if you at least talked about it properly to someone.” He replied. “When I talked to Miu, I felt a bit more… refreshed, I don’t know how to explain it.”

Shuichi weakly smiled. “Thanks. I talked a bit to Kirumi about this already, but it- it’s still not something I want to share. At least not now.”

The white-haired boy turned to the picture of Rantaro. “Save…”

An obsession he developed, to the point of ending his own life in some twisted plan.

“I don’t think I will ever understand him…” the boy muttered.

Shuichi swallowed. “Maybe we could have been true friends… If only we met differently, then things would have been better.”

Kirumi had her eyes on him. “… That’s nothing but a distant dream, now.”

She looked at Miu, then back at the computer, deciding to close the haunting file.

They would have to figure out what it all meant, but right now they were drained. Whenever Rantaro was mentioned, things did not end up well.

Obtained truth bullet! Subject list

Shuichi glanced at the ground for a moment. He was the one to start the meaningless investigation, despite himself.

He thought it had been completely useless in the end, since Rantaro ended up achieving his wretched goals, but perhaps... Not all of it was for nothing. There was still more to this, and this list was the proof.

Miu came back to them. “Alright, we done with this file?”

It was obvious she was still shaken.

Kokichi hummed. “We… figured we could go onto something else.”

She went back to the chair and thought for a moment. "… What are we checking next?"

Shuichi approached her to look at what could be useful, pushing his thoughts to the back of his head. "Hey, doesn't this look like a chat device?" he pointed at an icon. "Maybe the mastermind was talking to an ally, or someone they're working with."

The girl cracked her fingers. "Let's see what this bitch was up to."

After clicking the icon, one single conversation appeared on the screen.

"We might need to read all of this, maybe try to scroll up to see where it starts?" Shuichi suggested.

And so she did. Unfortunately, they didn't seem very talkative, and they did not know when those conversations really happened.

But now, they could read actual conversations from the mastermind and their accomplices, and that was more than enough.

Or superiors, if Rantaro was right.

=====

I request an alternate motive. This is urgent. <

> Which one?

Number 05. <

> Understood. Please give me the details in a voice call.

(Voice call lasted 19 min 47 sec)

=====

"Alternate motive...?" Kokichi tilted his head. "We were supposed to have another motive at some point?"

Shuichi slammed his hands on the table. "Wait! Motive 05! It's the flashback lights file!"

"The flashback lights for Ryoma, Angie, and Tsumugi only." Kirumi noted.

Miu frowned. "Wait, if this is about the despair disease, why didn’t Kokichi have a file? You had the disease, right?"

He stiffened. "Y-yes? I had the disease!!"

And yet... Nothing was proving it. Neither the files, nor the attitude back then.

"That's... odd, don't you think?" Shuichi raised an eyebrow. "Kokichi did not change attitude and did not have his memories of that period erased..."

The young boy looked panicked, to say the least. "I don't know! But I... I had the disease, Monokuma said it and I know I had it..." he trailed off.

The three looked at each other. After what had just happened with the contract and the file, preying on it would only make things worse.

Instead, Rantaro's words ringed in his head.

'No existing disease infects people that differently.'

And he was right. This was no disease, but instead flashback lights. Which made a lot more sense than whatever explanation the bears came up with.

... And with how much Angie changed because of 'the disease', he started wondering what the flashback lights were truly capable of.

Pure terror, and nothing else. he thought to himself.

Miu scrolled down to look at the next conversation.

=====

The next motive will be an alternate one as well. This is an important demand.<

> I expected that. Which one?

Number 13. <

> Are you sure? This is not an easy motive to handle.

Yes. I believe it is the best way to continue the game. <

> Understood. Shall we make a voice call for the details?

Yes. <

(Voice call lasted 1h 49 min 04 sec)

=====

"Wait, the Sanzu garden was not planned from the start either?" Shuichi raised an eyebrow.

"Forget about that, look at the voice call!" Miu exclaimed. "Two hours of babbling about how to make us suffer?!"

"No, Shuichi is right." Kirumi frowned. "The motive was planned after the despair disease to an extent. This means that the mastermind somehow managed to put all of that into place in a few days at most."

He didn't think about that. "That's... how?!"

"Shuichi, I think at this point we should stop asking 'how is this possible' and more 'what is going on’. This entire bullshit sounds like science fiction, but here we are." Miu sighed.

And she was right, unfortunately. He didn't expect science to be able to transfer a human soul into a robotic body nor to be able to mess with memories in such a way, but he had to accept that this was real.

"Still... They planned and prepared all of this way too quickly..." Kokichi muttered.

If the mastermind worked alone, that would have been impossible. But as Rantaro said, they don't know how many people are behind the scenes.

It was terrifying.

They kept scrolling to see what happened after that.

=====

> This trial was a wonderful success. You have made an excellent job handling this motive.

> Rare are those who can make it work correctly.

Thank you. <

> However, we will once again need you to keep an eye on someone for tonight. You might already know who I'm talking about.

Yes, I do. And understood. <

=====

"Wonderful success my ass." Miu hissed. "As long as we get hurt, they’re happy. Fucking bastards."

"I think we should talk about the 'Rare are those who can make it work correctly.'" Kirumi noted. "Did other people have to do this in the past?"

That was more of a rhetorical question. This conversation was just blatant proof that...

... This was not the first killing game. And enough of them had the Sanzu garden as a motive for this to be said. How many had to be trapped in those chambers, or were hurt by the countless traps placed to terrorize them?

It was sickening.

"Um... Why are they talking about 'keeping an eye on someone' though?" Kokichi asked. "And 'once again'? Did the mastermind already have to do that?"

"It does seem normal that they are tasked to keep an eye on us, but that message seems to hold more importance." Kirumi said.

But for what, though...? What is so important that the mastermind needed to be reminded to do that?

Whatever the reason, he already hated it.

He glanced at the screen and saw that Miu had scrolled down a bit.

=====

We need to talk. Right now. <

> What is it about?

Don't feign ignorance. <

> We are already working on this. You do not need to intervene.

Understood. <

=====

"What the hell?" Miu raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"

It was odd to see the mastermind be mad at whoever their colleague was. Whatever they did must not have pleased them.

But was it a good or a bad sign?

"It must have happened after the fourth trial, but not on the same day as the other conversation." Kirumi pondered. "Although I doubt this has anything to do with the fifth trial."

He nodded. Judging by how they talked, the chances were low.

But unfortunately, there wasn't much they could deduce from this conversation.

Miu scrolled down and they realized this would be the last conversation the mastermind and their accomplice had.

======

> This entire trial was a full-blown disaster. How did you mess up that badly?

> Do you realize we might have executed Mr. Amami for nothing? We don't even know if he was indeed guilty.

I didn't ask for him to be executed, as far as I know. You did. <

Also, don't act like you didn't want him to die. I do have a part of responsibility < in this, but do not put 100% of the blame on me.

There are things and people I simply cannot control, you should know that.<

> You do know executing someone without concrete proof of the crime is not something we can do out of the blue.

> Someone like you shouldn't be in this position. You knew him better than everyone else and there is no excuse for your failure.

Once again, you are also to blame. I warned you about him. I specifically told < you he was a force to be reckoned with, someone to never underestimate.

Why do you think I chose him of all people? <

> You could have made the job easier for yourself and for us, and you didn't.

What is done is done. This game will come to an end very soon, and I have < no choice but to take another route for the finale.

> You know we cannot afford to end the killing game like this.

It is too late for that. We underestimated him, and we must pay the price. <

I'll let you handle the preparations. You might need to hurry up, though. I have < a feeling he prepared more than we first expected.

> Understood.

======

The four of them stared at the screen with wide eyes.

Shuichi had his eyes locked on one single sentence.

'I didn't ask for him to be executed.'

Rantaro...

"Rantaro was supposed to live?!" he yelled.

"Hold the fuck up! If the mastermind didn't want him dead, then why was he executed?!" Miu turned back, panicked.

Shuichi paused, then glanced at her. "W-

"He was right."

He suddenly turned to Kirumi.

"Rantaro mentioned Monokuma possibly getting new orders during the trial, when he suddenly turned against him and gave us a very explicit reason to vote for him."

"So that wasn't the mastermind?!" Kokichi exclaimed.

Then... The mastermind was actually not in total control of the trial...?

What on earth had happened back there?!

"So they fucked up, the mastermind wanted to let him go but whoever the fuck was actually behind the scenes wanted him dead?!"

This was almost exactly what Rantaro had predicted.

His foresight was one of the greatest qualities he had, to their dismay.

But...

"Who are we even calling the mastermind if they don't even have full power over the game?!"

"A pawn." Kirumi bluntly said. "The 'mastermind' has a certain amount of power, but they’re at the lowest level of the hierarchy."

He swallowed. "Still... The fact that the one we considered our greatest enemy for so long might be nothing next to whoever was behind them..."

A graveyard silence settled among them.

He couldn't even bring himself to fear the mastermind anymore.

Rantaro had told them. He had told them that there were more people behind this horror, but... He never imagined anything like that.

"But... Look at this..." Kokichi pointed at the screen. "The other person says they can't kill us out of the blue... Are they still bound by the rules? I thought the mastermind was doing this game for them?"

"Then there must be more layers to this." Kirumi crossed her arms. She raised a finger, pointing at nothing in particular, then raised it up as she talked. "The 'mastermind' is at the bottom, then it's the second layer- this person, whatever their role is, and finally someone else at the top, who has given them the instructions and is only watching."

"That's my understanding of the situation."

Shuichi pondered. This looked like a decent explanation.

But still, whoever is at the top...

... What kind of power did they even possess for multiple killing games to be organized?

Miu stared at the screen, still reading the messages. "The mastermind knows Rantaro more than anyone else... What does that mean? Do they know us as well?"

"That does seem logical. They have 'chosen’ Rantaro, whatever that means, so they probably ‘chose’ us as well. Though I don't know how they could know us enough to the point of creating the Sanzu Garden." Kirumi said.

"That doesn't surprise me at this point, to be honest. What I'm worried about is the last message the mastermind sent. They seemed to know Rantaro had prepared something, so Monoshi must have not been that much of a surprise for them."

If they knew something was going to happen, then... Why didn't they do anything? Was it because the game was already supposed to end?

Was the game successfully ended by Rantaro, or was it already supposed to end, making his sacrifice utterly useless?

"Does that mean they knew we were going to end up in this room?" Kokichi asked.

That... was actually a good question. They didn't seem to have tried to hide major clues like the flashback light guide and the computer, but at the same time, the contract with his family was here. And they were actually able to go past the computer security.

"Maybe... I wouldn't be surprised if they did, but here we are, looking at their conversation with their boss, so who knows." Miu sighed.

Obtained truth bullet! Conversation with the mastermind

The group stopped talking for a moment. They needed to process this. Not just this part of the conversation, but the rest of the investigation. From Tatsuya Idabashi and his corpse, Keebo, the contract with his own family, the subject list to this...

What did he get himself into?!

Kirumi let her shoulders drop. "We should go back to investigating the academy while we still can. I think we’ve seen enough from this computer."

Shuichi turned to her. "Wait, there might still be info on this…"

As much as he hated it, he knew he was right. This computer was a gold mine, despite all the nuggets being coated in poison.

Miu pondered. "But she's right on one thing. We’ve all been on this computer for a while instead of the usual two-by-two. We should get back to that strategy."

Just as she finished her sentence, the sound of another explosion from the outside was heard.

"I... I think I'll stay here…" Shuichi nervously said.

"Fine. I'll go outside." Kirumi took a step back. "I'll try to investigate alone."

"I might also need some time to process all of this bullshit or I think I'll have an aneurysm." She muttered to herself, although Shuichi did hear her.

The sound of her heels faded away as she passed through the destroyed entrance in the library.

Miu crossed her arms, gaze to the ground. "I'll go to the surface too. Can I leave you two with the computer?" she asked.

"C-Count on us."

Shuichi muttered this unconsciously, but he didn't even know if he was ready to see more.

Miu gave him a weak smile and walked away, leaving him with Kokichi.

Once she was out of sight, Shuichi sighed, putting his face in his hands. “What are we even doing…?”

Kokichi put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

It was impossible to keep calm.

“I’m sorry, I- I just don’t know what to think anymore…” he mumbled.

The other boy let his hand drop. “It’s fine… I know this is dumb coming from me, but… Please talk if you need to.”

He paused.

“I just… I feel guilty about Rantaro. I should have said something to Miu… I know I shouldn’t have stayed silent but h- he…”

His throat tightened.

“I don’t know what happened to you exactly, but… He did something bad to you, didn’t he?”

His silence provided him the answer.

“I can’t blame you for reacting the way you did… I know I shouldn’t talk behind people’s backs, but I know Miu is biased, and I can’t blame her either.”

“What I’m trying to say is, you shouldn’t feel bad about keeping it a secret. Maybe things would have gone differently if you talked about your worry, but… You are not the one who is responsible for his death.”

Shuichi stayed silent, a bit surprised by his words.

“Kokichi…”

“If anyone is at fault, it’s whoever organized the killing game, right? So the only thing we can do is to stop them.”

He felt a smile form on his lips, despite the tears threatening to fall at any moment.

“… Thank you.”

“No problem, that’s the least I can do now.”

Shuichi glanced back at the conversation.

"Do you think we should try communicating with them?" he asked. "I don't even know what we'll get out of it, but we could try."

Kokichi frowned. "It feels weird talking to the people who did all of this to us... But we don't have anything to lose, right?"

"I don't think so..."

Shuichi approached the keyboard and took a deep breath.

I managed to get back to the room. What's the next step of the plan? <

"Wait... Aren't they watching us with the cameras?" Kokichi asked. "Don't they know it's us?"

Shit.

Shuichi slowly turned to him. "W-What do we do now?"

They stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity.

"I don't think they'll answer..." Shuichi mumbled.

He reduced the window size to look at what was available on the computer. Unfortunately, there weren't many icons, but one stood out to him.

"Mastermind rules...?"

He clicked on the icon. It looked like a set of rules they had to follow.

Overall, nothing was alarming or too out of place. Check the room and give updates as often as possible, always keep an eye on the participants, interact as little as possible with the environment not to disturb the game...

... But then, his eyes landed on one specific rule.

#10. Prevent suicides

There is always a possibility a participant will try to end their life at some point in the game, and at a time it is not welcome (i.e.: less than 24 hours after a trial, a participant's death -unless chapter 3- or at any moment the death will be too obvious for a proper trial to be done). In that case, make sure the participant stays alive for the sake of the game by whatever means necessary. Keep an eye on them until the situation is suitable enough for them to do so, or if they simply don't want to commit the act anymore.

Shuichi's eyes widened.

"That's... That's what we're worth to them?" Kokichi's voice was shaking.

The blue-eyed teen swallowed, taking a step back. "This… This is..."

…

If he had truly wished to end it all... The mastermind themselves would have come to his rescue, for the sole purpose of continuing the game...?

How was he supposed to feel about this?!

Obtained truth bullet! Mastermind's rules

He instinctively closed the window.

Thankfully, there wasn't much they could search in this computer anymore, aside from one icon Kokichi pointed out.

"Hey, look at this, maybe... Maybe this is about the cameras?"

Shuichi clicked on it, and to their surprise, all the screens lit up, showing different cameras around the academy. But the cameras looked like they were... flying? They were at the very least not attached to a wall, the ground, or a ceiling, and they were moving.

He spotted Kaito's exisal and Monoshi still hardly fighting against the other bears, Miu running around the main building and Kirumi walking towards the dorms' building.

Another screen showed their faces, staring at the camera. And yet, there was nothing in their field of vision aside from the screen of the computer.

Very disturbing, to say the least.

On the main laptop was a gigantic list of... 'nanokumas'?

There seemed to be hundreds of them, each marked as active, aside from a small portion of them, marked as destroyed.

Were they the cameras? Cameras small enough not to be noticed by anyone?

Rantaro was right on many more guesses than he thought.

Obtained truth bullet! Nanokumas

Since there wasn't much to see here, he closed the window.

"So... What do we do now?" Kokichi asked before glancing at the table. “Hm?”

Shuichi turned to him. “What is it?”

“Kirumi and I found a key next to the computer, that she guessed was a master key, something that could unlock all rooms. But it’s gone now, she might have taken it.”

A very useful item that he despised the existence of.

He looked at the entrance in the library. "There is nothing left to check in this room, so we might as well get out. I hate this place."

His friend nodded. "Yeah…”

And so they did. Once they were out, they decided to split up to check places they might have missed.

There was one place Shuichi needed to go to.

He glanced at the dorms building where Kirumi had supposedly gone to.

He needed to get there. He ran as fast as he could to avoid any possible damage.

Shuichi immediately closed the door behind him, and the ruckus outside became less loud. But the silence of the dorms was not that much more reassuring.

His eyes drifted to the different rooms, now all empty, as their owners were either dead or investigating. However...

... He noticed one door was slightly opened.

Rantaro's.

He swallowed and approached the room.

...

After what felt like an eternity, he found the courage to quietly open the door.

He felt himself gag right after stepping into his room.

There was a strange mix of unpleasant smells- nothing like Tatsuya's lab, though. A mix of sweat, chemicals and medicine drowned in a sea of heavy enclosed air. The room itself was incredibly messy and disorganized. He noticed a needle on the bedside table with a bottle of liquid medicine, a half-emptied bottle of water, and pills.

The bed was not even made. The pillow was thrown away and the blanket had fallen on the floor next to the bed.

His eyes glanced towards the wardrobe. It was supposed to have a mirror, but... The shattered shiny pieces of aluminum on the ground told enough for him to understand what had happened.

Looking at this scene made his heart ache. Everything he had seen in the mastermind's room had been messed up, but...

Seeing the madness in the most intimate place they had for themselves was something else. It felt like he wasn't entering a simple room, but rather getting a glimpse of the fragmented mind of his former friend. The one who laid down his life for them- for their safety and out of spite.

His head turned to the bathroom, and that's when he noticed the other person in the room- who hadn't noticed him yet.

Kirumi was staring in front of her, an unreadable expression on her face.

She placed a hand on the mirror, gently brushing it with her long, thin fingers.

After swallowing, he stepped forward.

Kirumi suddenly turned around, just noticing him.

"... It's you."

Shuichi looked down for a moment. "Sorry if I surprised you."

Her shoulders dropped as she turned back to her reflection. "It's fine."

It’s only then that he noticed the state of the mirror, which had been out of his sight until now.

Shattered.

Three strikes that left crackles all over the piece of furniture. The mirror was barely keeping it together. One move too brutal and everything would fall apart, breaking into a million more pieces. Their reflections were distorted by the splits, one of the strikes ironically placed around Shuichi's head.

He could only stare, a hand clenching his heart and his mind drowning in never-ending dread.

(BGM)

They stared at themselves, not even daring to look at the other’s reflection, in a silence that he would have enjoyed at any other moment, but right now, he couldn’t describe it as anything other than suffocating.

His eyes drifted to the glass shards in the sink and the opened tubes of painkillers. The unpleasant smell was stronger, it was impossible to ignore it.

"..."

"Kirumi..."

She glanced at his reflection. "Yes?"

"Can we even stop them?"

She stayed silent for a moment, looking at herself.

"I don't know."

"The mastermind and their allies are powerful, and they seem to have total control over us."

"I would be lying if I said I truly believed everyone would get a happy ending."

Shuichi looked down.

"What even is a happy ending? One where we at least survive? Do we escape the academy? Will we able to go home?"

"What's... What's your happy ending, Kirumi?"

Her eyes widened a bit. Was she… caught off guard?

"..."

"... My happy ending, huh?"

She narrowed her eyes.

"It’s not like I can choose my destiny. The moment this game started, the possibilities for my future narrowed down to very few thin lines.”

“I do not care what happens to me in the end. I know my purpose was to stay alive at all costs, but… There’s no point believing in that anymore.”

“Perhaps I will die, perhaps I will live, and it doesn’t matter. What I truly wish for is to stay true to my morals.”

She paused.

“I know this might sound nonsensical, but I despise cruelty. I’ve seen many flaunting its greatness, but I always believed those people were the weakest humans to ever live.”

“Being cruel is admitting you are unable to suppress a mere urge, that you are nothing but an animal.”

“A simple proof of inhumanity.”

Her eyes hadn’t moved from her own reflection.

“I don’t want to die as a beast, a slave taking orders without second thought, nor as a killer.”

“My happy ending… is to die as Kirumi Tojo.”

…

Shuichi looked down.

“And you?”

His eyes darted up.

“What is yours?”

He looked back at himself.

... What was his happy ending?

"You don't have to answer me. All that matters is that you know what you want and what you believe in."

"Believe me, it takes a lot of mental strength to bring yourself to question all of this, but once you do, it's a new path that opens to you."

"One that you won't regret, even if things may not go exactly as you wanted."

She walked out of the bathroom.

"This killing game changed us all. It's our job to gather the misery and despair we felt for so long and throw it back in the faces of the wretched monsters who ruined our lives."

The sound of her heels faded away.

He stared at where she was standing for a minute before turning to the mirror again.

He wished to say his happy ending is one where they all escape and go home, but…

That was dream out of his reach, and he had to accept it.

Perhaps they would never stop those behind the scenes. Perhaps they would never find peace.

Perhaps they were all going to die.

But…

He couldn’t wallow in what-if’s.

He was going to fight until the end, for those who died, and those by his side.

He may never achieve a true happy ending, but to die trying to get it would be better than to let everyone’s sacrifices be in vain.

And he had just the right idea for a way to end this game.

After sharing one last glance with his shattered reflection, he left Rantaro's room.

He opened the door of the dorms building to see the long-haired woman standing there.

Kaito's exisal was down, surrounded by the four others.

The mecha opened to reveal their friend coughing. He lifted his head to look at them both. He was...

Defeated.

"Kaito!!"

Miu's voice echoed in the courtyard as she sprinted with Kokichi towards them.

"Puhuhu! My, my! You put up quite a fight! I'm impressed!"

Monokuma's laughter ringed in their ears.

"Unfortunately for you, it looks like your little temper tantrum is over!"

Kaito tried to get himself out of the exisal but was struggling to do so with only one functioning leg. Miu ran up to help him, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"So... How was your little period of free time without your beloved headmaster? Did you have fun running around? Going into my super-ultra-mega private rooms?"

"Fuck you." Kaito spat.

"I will take that as a yes!~" the robot laughed. "Now, now. Since this unwanted chaos is finally over, shall we-

"I demand a trial!!"

Everyone turned to the source of the voice.

Shuichi had taken a step forward. That might be the dumbest idea ever, but if this game had to end, it had to be like this.

He stared at the bear in the eyes.

“I want one last trial to end all of this.”

Kaito looked at him with eyes that screamed ‘what are you doing?’. But… That was the only way.

“Rantaro said it himself, this game is over. We have seen what was behind the scenes and we will not partake in this madness anymore!"

He pointed a finger at him. "This is your trial! Your trial as the culprit of everyone's murders in this killing game! And if you don’t want to accept this reason…”

“… Then think of this trial as the one for Keebo’s murderer, since you lied about Kaito being the culprit of the case.”

...

Monokuma looked surprised, although it was hard to read his mechanical face.

"Puhuhu... You do have some guts! Can’t say the same about my sweet monokubs… and myself, but that’s not the point.”

His glare did not falter.

“Very well! I accept the deal!”

"Everyone, please gather at the shrine of judgment!"

The bear and his cubs jumped away to their destination.

Once alone, everyone turned to him.

"Shuichi... Do you really think this is a good idea?"

He wanted to say he wasn't sure, but now wasn't the time to doubt.

"This is our only choice if we want to end the game. I don’t think Monokuma would have accepted to do anything else."

Kirumi crossed her arms. “Monokuma has already accepted the deal. I can’t say I had better ideas, though.”

Kokichi nodded in agreement.

Shuichi looked at his friends with a weak smile. "Let's end this, everyone."

Miu put a hand on his shoulder. "Then let's go. Together."

"You guys are going to have to sum up the situation for me, because I have zero clue how your investigation went." Kaito sighed.

The four others glanced at each other. He was lucky not to have seen the horrors of the mastermind’s room, but they would have to tell him at some point.

"We'll... We'll do that in due time, don't worry." Miu mumbled.

Kaito sensed her worry and put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, I know you guys did well. We'll talk about it during the trial, alright?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

They arrived at the shrine, which had been slightly damaged by the exisals. The elevator opened, and the five survivors stepped in.

This was it.

The final trial where everything would end.

He could feel his heart racing in his chest as they got closer and closer to the courtroom.

He glanced at each of his friends, the ones who were still alive with him.

Kokichi, who, despite the hardships he went through before and during the game, gathered the strength to surpass them all, with the help of the kind hearts of the group.

Kaito, who, despite his disability as well as the false accusations thrown against him during the third trial, was someone one could count on, a great friend who wouldn’t let you down.

Miu, who, despite her willingness to kill for her cherished son at the beginning of the game, turned her sorrow into determination to end the game and to fight against their captor, and used her compassion to help whoever needed her.

Kirumi, who, despite her title, was one of his greatest allies, helped him through the hardest times, as well as the rest of them with a great strength, intelligence, as well as the double-edged sword that her condition is.

Friends that he would never, ever forget.

…

The elevator ride was even longer than last time- were they in yet another room?

His question was quickly answered when the door opened.

The courtroom did not even look like one anymore. The decoration was as futuristic looking as the podiums, with bright neon colors vibrating in the dark. And yet, the room was illuminated well enough for them to be able to see each other clearly.

They went to their podiums. And now, eleven of them were occupied by portraits stained by pink crosses.

They looked at each other, all uncertain about the outcome.

But they had to do this.

This killing game was going to end, right here and there, at last.

#ndrv3 #danganronpa v3 #ndrv3 au #beta au #main story

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