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mae-gi-writes · 4 years

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Plus One | Kevin Moon (Around The World Collab)

When your boyfriend of eight years suddenly decides to break up with you right before your destined trip for your cousin’s wedding, nothing can cure your broken heart. In a desperate attempt to make you feel better, Kevin states that he will be your plus one.

Genre: little angst, fluff, friends to lovers.

This fic is part of a collab “Around The World”, featuring different countries x the boyz members. I had the utmost pleasure of working with such an amazing group of talented writers for this project, so please don’t forget to check out their works too! ^^ <3

This fic is takes place on Mauritius Island.

Word count: 9k IZ A LONG ONE SO BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUPS

Tagging: @aniyawoos @chaoticdeobi @moondustaeil @juyeonzz @atbzkingdom @2hyunjae @jopping-to-my-kpop @jeongsinkookie @ihearttbz @heartyyjeno @bahnmi07 @sadlandia @itsquxxn

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Eight years, gone just like that.

I stare at a spot on my navy blue suitcase, not really focused on what’s before me and more concerned about the memories flickering past my lids. I can’t help it. Everytime I see luggage, it makes me think of the way I kicked him out of my life. Everytime, a slab of pain will grab my heart between its icy fingers and squeeze it so that I can barely breathe. Everytime, until I feel like I’m drowning inside dark waters without the real desire to swim to the surface.

My psychiatrist told me that it had been for the better. That it had been an obsessive, unhealthy kind of love in the first place. But was it better now that I couldn’t even feel my heart in the hollow space where it’s supposed to be?

“Y/N.”

Still, I remember the messages on his phone, the way his touch would feel strange, eerily hollow for some reason, the way he’d avoid my eyes whenever he’d tell me that he was going out with the guys. I remember smelling his coat and recoiling at the cheap scent of perfume clinging to it like second skin, how he’d constantly tell me how wonderful I was-- too wonderful for him -- and that I should find better, that I didn’t deserve someone like him.

And then, when I’d stumbled into our flat a little earlier than I was meant to -- since my gym class had been cancelled -- and took note of the trail of shoes, followed by a coat, a shirt, a thong, before my ears picked up on the noises echoing from the bedroom doors…

“Y/N?”

His face when he spotted me, the astounded expression like a dog that had just been caught sneaking into the pantry. And the girl, a prettier woman, a curvy woman, with red lips and with those beautifully deep red wine locks tumbling down her back with the perfect physique that could make any man drool. That girl, who was none other than one of my good friends at work and who had spent most part of the year listening to my rants about him.

“Y/N!”

“Huh?” My head whips up when I register my name being called out, looking up to see a raven-haired, petite-faced man leaning against the bedroom doorway with raised brows and a concerned expression on his face.

“Oh, you’re here,” I say, as he crosses the doorway and sits beside me. The bed dips down under his weight as he tilts his head in that knowing manner of his, “daydreaming again?”

“No,” I mumble, but he sees right through my facade and with a sigh, his arms wrap around my shoulder before pillowing his head against my shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs as I allow myself to lean back against him, against his comfort. His lavender scent wraps around me, a little bed of comfort amidst all the pain.

“I can’t stop thinking about him,” I murmur, tears stinging the corner of my eyes, “it hurts, Kev.”

He only holds me a little closer, a little tighter.

If there is one person that I can trust more than myself, it’s Kevin Moon. I’ve known Kevin ever since high school, having hung out in the same friend group until we had become partners for an art project. It was only then that we’d become closer, and had been close ever since. With his angular features and almond mono lidded eyes and thin lips that were constantly shaped in a pout, the Korean-born man had moved to Canada when he was young, just like I had a few years ago. He had kept me afloat during my university days, I had comforted him through his first break up. He had been present during my final Fine Arts Photography Exhibition, I was up all night coming up with re-branding concepts for his design project. Overall, Kevin had pretty much been a constant in my life, you get the gist of it.

When he found out that my boyfriend had cheated just a few days before our destined trip to attend my cousin’s wedding -- mind you, I had been sobbing waterfalls and it was a miracle he even understood me through my blubbering mess -- he had half a mind to storm up to the guy and rip his throat out. But he did the most surprising thing; booked a ticket for himself and turned up at my flat on the eve of the departure, stating that he was going to accompany me to that wedding, whether I liked it or not.

My cousin, Emma, was getting married right where home was: Mauritius. The memories I once had of the small island nestled right in the Indian Ocean on the right of Madagascar, was of my grandma’s comforting food, the sea scented air that washed along with the too-white sandy beaches, the multitudes of merchants selling all kinds of fresh fruits and vegetables on the side of the road, and small corner stores that looked like they had come out of a 1960’s movie. People liked to claim that Mauritius was paradise on earth, and in a way, it is.

“Come on,” Kevin had nagged when I shook my head adamantly. He’d wriggled his plane ticket before my nose, “you’re not going to let that loser spoil such a happy event are you? Emma’s waiting for you!”

In the end, he’d won. Which is why we are here, staying at my cousin, Emma’s, apartment in a village called Moka, located at the foot of a mountain and has an abundance of forestry adorning the sides of the road. It's chilly here, in comparison to the harbourfront, and constantly smells like fresh rain and has a gentle fresh breeze blowing through.

“You know, assholes like him are not worth thinking about,” Kevin says now, his arm a gentle soothing caress up and down my back, “your brain might rot.”

I can’t help but let out a soft, choked up laugh.

“It’s our first day here, let’s not ruin it by thinking about him, hm?” Kevin continues soothingly and I nod in agreement. He’s right. I’m just wasting time by reliving memories that I should be banishing from my mind.

“Okay!” he brightens up then, “where shall we go? The sea? The market? Or do you want to go eat?!”

--------------

The first few days are about meeting up with family and rediscovering Mauritius for what it is. Emma gives me a full-fledged hug the moment I open the door to her house, pressing me close to her with such motherly warmth that it takes everything in me not to break down right then and there. I greet my uncles and engage in small-talk with my aunts, help my grandma out in the kitchen as she continuously asks me why I’ve gotten so thin. While I know the main reason, I decide to smile and spare her the details, as embarrassing as it is.

No one mentions him, until one of my uncles slips during a conversation with Kevin, “so you’re Y/N’s boyfriend. Such a pleasure to meet you! We’ve heard so much about you that we started thinking she was just making things up.”

“Er--” Kevin reddens, “I--”

“So how did you two meet?”

It is at this very instant that my mouth decides to move on its own and I blurt out, “we’re high school friends.”

“Oh highschool sweethearts! How cute!”

Kevin doesn’t fail to mention what a mistake I’ve made to lie to my entire family to save face.

“I feel guilty,” he says as we walk out to the car, keys dangling from my wrist.

I unlock the car, “it’s fine. We’ll be in and out before they know it. They don’t have to know anything.”

“Hm, sure.”

After some well-deserved family time, Kevin and I decide to head to the west of the island to catch the sunset, my camera stuffed neatly in the backseat, where Kevin has tossed a few spare towels just in case. We each have donned our swimsuits for the occasion and it doesn’t take an expert to see the excitement thrumming through Kevin’s veins as he sits beside me like an excited child in the passenger seat.

“I never realized that you guys drive on the left side of the road,” he comments, head whipping back and forth in-between the passage of cars.

“Yeah, it takes some getting used to, especially if you’re crossing,” it is then that I notice that there is a newly built mall as we turn left at the green light, “hey, that’s new. I’ve never seen this before.”

“Cas-ca-velle,” he mumbles out with that strong accent of his. He is definitely not one to know French and I’ve been acting as his translator all along, considering that my family speaks French at home, “what does that mean?”

“Beats me. It’s just a fancy name for a new shopping mall,” I peer into its parking lot, “wanna visit?”

“Whatever floats your boat, honey. I’m all in.”

The mall is longer than it is wide, with white archways decked with wooden-style roofs that give way to an open-plan exterior. A wide beige cemented pathway occupies the space, with shops lined on either side.

“I never realized, but you guys are very multicultural,” comments Kevin as we pass by another family of four chattering quickly in a mixture of French and Creole.

“We’re similar to Canada that way.”

“Do you miss it here?”

My eyes glance over at him, notice the soft empathy in his expression.

“I guess I do sometimes,” I say while I kick at a stray pebble, “It’s like homesickness. But in a way I can’t quite explain,” after a moment, I ask, “do you miss Korea?”

“The food, mostly,” he grins bashfully, “my halmeoni makes a killer gamja tang.”

“Let’s go visit her one day.”

“Is that a promise?” he asks as I shrug, “if you want it to be.”

It’s a little past six when we drive up to the Flic En Flac beach and as we gather our things, my eyes light up upon falling on a nearby roti stand. I quickly slap Kevin’s arm in my bout of excitement.

“Ouch! What? What is it?”

“Kevin, you’re not going to believe this,” I point at the stand in question, “this roti stand? It’s the best roti in Mauritius. Here, take this,” I don’t wait before shoving my bag and camera in his arms, “I’m gonna buy us some. You go and find us a spot on the beach.”

“But--”

I don’t wait for him to finish his sentence before taking off, greeting the merchant who is just about to be wrapping up to ask whether I can get two rotis with ‘cari saumon’ (roughly translated into salmon curry mixed with indian spices), local and freshly made. The smell wafts through the folded paper wrappers as I grab them. They smell just like my childhood, where everything had just been as easy as having rotis by the beach without a care about the future that is to come. It’s nostalgic and I can’t help the smile tugging up my mouth at the thought.

Kevin is already settled atop a pair of spare towels and looks up at the sound of my footsteps approaching. I pass him one of the paper wrappers and he takes a peek, confusion flitting across his face.

“This smells spicy,” he mutters loudly enough for me to hear, “it looks like naan bread.”

“It is,” I agree, “except it’s flatter and more like a crepe.”

Throwing me a hesitant glance, he takes a small bite. I watch his face go from confused to impressed in a few seconds, before his eyes whip up to mine, “woah, this is good.”

“Told you so.”

“But this is really, really good,” he can’t help but marvel at it and laughing, I proceed to dig into my own roti, allowing my mouth to be filled with that salty fish taste melting along my tastebuds, the curry spices giving it the nice tangy kick you wouldn’t find anywhere else. The roti is soft and practically melts on my tongue and I can’t help but moan at how good it is.

“God, this is everything I’ve been looking for my whole life,” I find myself telling him, wrapped up in momentary bliss, “this, this is everything.”

I can feel his eyes on me, so intense that my own flicker up in question. He drops his gaze the moment I do and I frown, confused.

“What?” I can’t help but ask, wondering why he suddenly seems so meek, so shy and awkward, “what is it?”

“Nothing,” he replies like he’s trying to be casual, except that it’s anything but. When he gazes back at me, I notice the warmth in his maroon eyes, more the color of caramel in the dim light from the sunset basking his profile in a golden glow, “I think--I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you so happy, since...”

He doesn’t need to continue, for I know where this is going. Indeed, this is the first time in many months that I haven’t paid any attention to the hole inside my heart.

And it feels good.

“Yeah,” I murmur as I watch the sun settle on the ocean’s horizon, fire kissing water, “I don’t know, I just feel like this is nice. Like it’s right.”

I spare him a glance from the corner of my peripheral and watch him shift. His sleeveless shirt slips, allowing me a glimpse of the naked skin underneath. I quickly look away, slightly embarrassed at the notion of even thinking of him in such a way.

“That’s how you should be, Y/N,” Kevin murmurs back just as softly. It’s almost like talking too loudly will break the sudden spell that has settled over our shoulders. He takes a sip of his beer before continuing, “you’ve suffered enough for someone who deserves nothing but shit for what he’s done.”

There’s a small pause as I digest his words. Then, I manage to murmur out, “thanks, Kevin.”

“No problem.”

Another small bout of silence ensues, covered up by the sound of the ocean roaring up the sand, distant birds chirping in the fading light of the sunset drowning into the now orange-flecked waters.

“Hey Y/N.”

I glance at him. He’s gorgeous, even more so somehow. Maybe it’s the time of the day, maybe it’s the mood, or maybe it’s the way my heart can’t help but be swallowed in gratefulness whenever I look at him.

“What?” I ask.

“Do you know water has memory?”

I choke on my beer, “do not-- and I mean this-- do not quote Frozen with me.”

“Huh, I tried.”

---------------------------

“So, Kevin huh?”

My eyes shoot up to meet Emma’s in her crusty-dust-filled mirror, presently lounging on her bed and flipping through a book as I had been trying on my bridesmaid gown. Kevin is downstairs, helping out with the barbeque grill with the rest of the family, and it is only now that I get to have some alone time with the woman I consider my sister.

She’s the only one that knew the exact details of my breakup, and that Kevin is only a mere replacement to cover my humiliated ass. I remember her trying to calm me down when I had called in a frenzy, practically hyperventilating because of the amount of pain that gripped at my heart and was choking me of all air.

I revert my eyes back to the dress, a baby blue as bright as a summer sky, and smooth my hands down my sides, “he’s been so good to me, ever since…” I can’t finish the sentence, voice already wobbling at the thought that comes with it.

“Hey,” Emma’s murmur causes me to look up, and in her eyes I see a flicker of understanding, “he’s not worth it.”

“I know,” I swallow back the tears crawling up my throat, “I know, it’s just--a hard pill to swallow.”

A hand comes to a rest at my elbow, before my cousin tucks her chin atop my shoulder, “it’ll be alright, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve you."

I nod. Then, just to change the subject so that I don’t break down in her arms, I gesture towards the dress, “so? How does it look?”

Emma tugs at some pieces here and there, rearranging the fabric as she sees fit, “I think it looks good. You look gorgeous. Kevin will swoon, for sure.”

“It’s not like that,” I hurriedly say as I strip out of the dress and put it back on its hanger, “we’re just friends.”

“Mhm,” she throws me a pointed look, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her lips, “'just friends' doesn't feel right..”

“Emma, really? Right after my breakup?”

“He came to Mauritius just for you Y/N,” she squeezes my shoulders comfortingly, “doesn’t that count for something?”

“Well, we’ve been friends since high school so…”

“I don’t think just any friend in high school would do such a thing if I asked,” Emma catches my eye in the mirror, her gaze deep and meaningful, “just think about that.”

I just nod in hopes that she’ll stop yapping away at my nonexistent relationship with Kevin, whatever that means. The hole in my heart is still so raw and filled with pain that I can’t even start thinking about another relationship. The thought alone is enough to drain me of all energy and I decide to brush it off for now as I follow Emma out in the backyard now filled with familiar chatter and the smell of cooked meat wafting through the air, with the sky bruising a soft purple to signal the end of a long summer day.

Catching sight of Kevin as I bring out one of the many salad bowls that my family has prepared, my lips can’t help but twitch into a slow smile when I see him by the grill, whipping away the multitudes of flies zipping back and forth as my other cousin deftly flips the sausages upside down with a trained rhythm that only years of experience can bring.

“Kevin! You’re not doing your job right!” my cousin cries playfully. Kevin attempts to flap the newspaper around while screeching, “oh god, my eyes are burning!"

“Someone bring more meat!” My cousin hollers.

“There’s more?!”

“He’s doing a great job,” my grandmother’s voice brings my attention back to the salad bowl in my hands, and I quickly bend to kiss her cheek as she continues, “better than any of your other cousins. They never help out.”

“That’s because you pamper them too much, grandma,” I grin at her and follow her to the dining table where my aunts are already settling down amongst themselves.

The evening passes by with good food and good company, the sky darkening and dotting with a veil of stars that has Kevin gawking in awe. I'm not surprised, you don't see skies like that anywhere, a sky that isn't so intoxicated with modern chemicals. My uncles take it upon themselves to introduce Kevin to all the types of Mauritian delicacies, such as chickpea fritters we call 'gato pima', small balls of graped choko vegetable and minced pork 'niouk yen', and to top it all off, a plate of cornmeal pudding also known as 'pudine mai' that makes Kevin's eyes go wide with surprise.

"This is dessert?" He holds it up in his hand, "with ...cornmeal?"

"Sure is," one of my aunts chime in with a smile, "made it just this morning."

It's past midnight when we get back to our little apartment with Emma's dress hanging off my arms, which Kevin doesn't hesitate to grab from my hold despite my protests.

"It's fine dude," he flashes me a quick smile, albeit tired, and my heart does this weird little squeeze in my chest at his thoughtfulness.

He's kind. Too kind. I really don't deserve someone like him.

"I'm sorry," I say as we settle onto the small couch, shoulders fitted snugly against each other, "my family is kinda overwhelming."

"No no," Kevin looks over, edges of his lips curled up, "I actually love your family, you know."

My chest warms, "thanks."

There is a moment of silence that we enjoy, the day's events sinking into my bones.

"Hey," he murmurs.

"Hm?"

My eyes slide over to catch his, dark pools glimmering with a certain softness that catches my attention.

I bite my lip. It suddenly feels a little warm.

"What is it?" I ask, voice hoarse.

"Is oreo a sandwich?"

I sit up so suddenly that I jostle him, "wait--what?"

He grins up at me with that little nose scrunch that I can't help but find endearing, "is oreo a sandwich?" I open my mouth to answer but he beats me to it, "is cereal a soup?"

"Stop."

Reclining back to lace his hands at the back of his head, he says, "is ketchup a smoothie?"

"Stop it."

"What about hotdogs? Are they sandwiches?" He continues in a singsong voice and rolling my eyes, I make a move to punch him once more. But he's faster, hand shooting out to hold my wrists. He pulls me over and I stumble, knee pressing against the side of his leg.

"Come on. Answer it," he wriggles his eyebrows.

"Nope."

“Don’t be a party pooper.”

“You’re so annoying.”

"Are you sick of me yet?" His face is so close that I notice the creases at the corner of his eyes when he smiles.

"That's an understatement."

"But really, do you think oreo is a sandwich?"

"No! Oreos are just oreos!"

“You’re no fun,” He pouts before finally releasing his hold. I draw back with a roll of my eyes, settling beside him once more and pillowing my head onto his shoulder.

Emma’s right. Kevin had sacrificed so much to be here with me, and he doesn’t even know Emma. Yet, he immediately dropped everything so that he could be my plus one, so that I wouldn’t have to face the music alone. The thought makes my heart swell with emotion and suddenly I’m all too aware of his presence beside me.

I shift to gaze at him, eyes tracing the curve of his nose, the indent above his lips before I whisper, “hey Kevin.”

“Hm?”

“Why’d you come?”

His eyes flicker over to mine then. A heartbeat passes. For a moment, I wonder if he can hear my heartbeat suddenly throbbing a little too loudly in my chest.

“Good question.”

Another pause.

“That’s not an answer,” I laugh slightly, to show that it’s all just fun and games.

But when I catch his eyes next, there’s something else brimming in them. They’re tender with emotion and it catches me so off guard that I almost don’t catch his next set of words:

“Because I care about you.”

My heart gives a quick lurch but I somehow can’t tear my gaze away. I want to say something. Anything.

But all I can muster is a soft, “oh.”

“Why do you ask?” he asks, voice hoarse.

I hesitate, “Emma asked why. And...I guess I wanted to know too.”

“Oh.”

The air feels heavy, heightened with the things that are threatening to slip off the edge of my tongue. A mixed series of ‘but why’s and ‘can’t you tell me more’ jumbling up my thoughts with so many possibilities that I decide to stay quiet for the sake of not ruining the moment. Because there’s this lingering fear that once I do say something, then it’ll just pull me down a rabbit hole that I can’t crawl out of, that the only escape lies on the other side.

And I don’t know if I want to take that leap yet. My heart is already so fragile with the aftermath of a love that went wrong. I don’t know how much more I can take.

So I just stay quiet and let out a soft sigh, and though Kevin shifts as if he wants to say something, he doesn’t. The question just hangs there between us, in-between the slithers of moonlight and in the cold Moka air, like a perpetual ghost we ignore as we drift off to sleep.

----------

Something shifts between us after that. It’s unspoken of, but suddenly, I am all too aware of Kevin as a whole. Things that I hadn’t noticed before surface as we spend most of our free time visiting the rest of the island; like how he loves ruffling his hair whenever he feels uncomfortable, or the way his bicep curls as his arm drapes over the wheel with the barest hint of muscle that is enough to be attractive yet subtle, or how he smirks in that attractive way of his whenever he thinks something is undeniably adorable.

The good thing about having Kevin is that I don’t get to think of him all too much, which is a blessing in itself. It’s been days since I’ve shed another tear and for that, I have to say I’m glad that I’m making progress.

We spent the last few days before the wedding traveling around the island to visit all the touristy spots that I know Kevin will enjoy, like a hike all the way to the top of Le Morne mountain, where I explain that’s where slaves would throw themselves off when their masters would find them. We visited Bois Cheri, a tea-making factory where Kevin had the pleasure of tasting all different kinds of teas cultivated in the fields below, and ate lunch on the Caudan Waterfront as we gazed at the boats lulling along the harbour.

“Woah, this place makes me feel like I’m in Aladdin somehow,” Kevin’s mouth is wide agape as his eyes try to take in the endless racks of stands selling fresh fruits and vegetables of the day. The Port-Louis Bazaar has always been one of my favourite places to visit, but it’s also one of the busiest. Even now as we attempt to squeeze our way through, people are jostling us here and there, causing me to press my bag to my chest in case any pickpockets are nearby. I prompt Kevin to do the same.

“Hey Y/N, I wanna check out the bags over there,” Kevin motions towards the hand-woven baskets situated at the far end of the market and I nod as we keep moving forward with the crowd like a pair of salmons trying to swim upstream. But there’s so many people, it’s so suffocating that it gets hard to keep up with Kevin’s figure. Someone elbows my shoulder and I groan, stumbling to the side in irritation, only to get pushed forward by another.

“Seriously--” I curse under my breath, when a hand suddenly appears before my eyes.

Looking up to see Kevin’s outstretched arm, I am only greeted with his bashful smile and averted eyes.

“Come on,” he doesn’t even wait for my consent before slipping his palm over my own and tugging me along, his hold firm and strong despite his skinny frame and the action is enough to render a flurry of butterflies soaring over my stomach.

Stop, I try telling my subconscious. That does nothing, however, to stop my neck from tingling with unfamiliar heat.

Kevin’s hand feels so warm. It’s comfortable, safe.

And I’m liking it a little too much.

He doesn’t let go when we reach the desired stand and talk over which bag looks the best and keeps his hand in mine for the entirety of our journey back to the car. Only when I unlock the doors that his palm finally drops from my hold and air rushes over my palm that is now a little too cold without his warmth. But while a multitude of questions are burning the back of my throat, they fall apart halfway through at the thought of his answer, before I decide to drop it altogether.

Kevin, on the other hand, doesn’t seem the least bit affected.

When the day of the wedding finally rolls around, I drive my car to Emma’s after a quick breakfast that Kevin surprised me with -- to my surprise, he’d managed to make a decent eggs and toast without burning the place down -- so that I can help her get into her gown and more importantly so that she doesn’t run away, lest her mind goes in a frenzy at the thought of tying the knot.

“You’ll be fine,” I reassure her, teasing a few of her curls so that they slip down to her chest in a perfect wave. She looks stunningly beautiful, with her strapless white dress that shimmers with diamonds in the light with every movement she makes.

I reach out to smooth over her veil so that it falls on either side of her face, frames her perfectly, and notice her big brown eyes staring back at me through her vanity mirror.

“You look beautiful,” I can’t keep the awe from my voice.

Her face blossoms into a smile, “you too.”

“Ah come on, you can’t say that to me on your wedding day,” I shove her playfully on the shoulder, “you’re the star of the show. Don’t let anyone take that away from you.”

“Okay mom,” she rolls her eyes before changing the subject, “So, how have things been? With Kevin?” My hands freeze in mid-action, “It’s good.”

I don’t have to look at her to know that she’s giving me a pointed look.

I sigh, “well, okay. Maybe you’re right. About the whole…’just friends’ thing not being true.”

“Why?” she straightens up, turns to me, “what happened? Did you kiss? Did he make a move--”

“No we didn’t kiss,” I’m quick to answer as my cheeks heat up. And after a few beats of hesitation, I give her a summary; the way he’d looked at me that night with eyes that held so much in them that it had made my chest swell, the way that he’d snitch glances at me whenever he thought I wasn’t paying attention, and the fact that he’d grabbed my hand and didn’t let go even long after the crowd wasn’t an issue anymore.

Emma’s eyes are wide and sparkling with a feeling that I know all too well, I can practically see the cogs turning in her head and quickly shook mine in rapid retaliation, “Emma, no.”

“But--But he’s perfect for you!” she bellows in protest, “What do you mean ‘no’?!”

“I can’t go there. Not after,...not now, it’s too soon…”

She rolls her eyes, “it’s not like he’s asking you to marry him, christ’s sake. He likes you, and I feel like you’re only trying to deprive yourself because you feel like it’s not right.”

“It’s not right--”

“Who says so?” she cuts me off then, her gaze hardening on mine with such intensity it takes everything in me not to flinch back, “who says it’s not right? It doesn’t matter if it’s after two days, two weeks, two months. You think I don’t know how it feels to be heartbroken? You can’t just keep thinking about the past. You’re going to hurt yourself that way.”

My teeth sink down onto my lower lip, her words like ice-cold knives aimed straight at my chest.

“What you can control, right now, is the present, Y/N.”

“I know,” I mumble out half-heartedly.

“I can see it, you know, the way he looks at you,” she shakes her head, “even if you don’t like him back, you gotta be aware of all that he’s done for you.”

Her hands find their way to mine, enclosing them in her grasp before squeezing them with such care that I can’t stop the tears crawling up the back of my throat.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs next, “I don’t want to pressure you if that’s not how you feel. That--That was not my intention,” her eyes latch onto mine, filled with understanding, “I just want you to be happy.”

Happy.

That’s a word I haven’t heard in a long time.

“Don’t you dare cry now,” Emma says while waving her hands around in warning, “you’re going to ruin your makeup and we definitely don’t want that.”

I sniffle, trying my best to hold in the tears now brimming through my eyes, “you’re right,” I attempt to smile, albeit it’s wobbly, “we don’t.”

“Come here,” she tugs my arm so that I fall into her embrace. Her head finds her way to my shoulder and she hugs me tight, not caring that her veil is getting all bunched up and wrinkled, “you’ll be okay,” she whispers, one hand stroking my back, “you’ll be just fine, little one.”

Then, pulling back and pushing a few strands away from my face, she flashes a bright smile, “we should probably head to the church soon.”

----------

“We now declare you, Vincent and Emma, as husband and wife.”

The church explodes in a round of applause and I join in the clapping, furiously trying to keep the tears of joy at bay. Vincent has been there for Emma ever since they met at work and it has been the most beautiful love story ever since; filled with the purest kind of love no one can imagine. Beside me, I feel Kevin’s hand coming to squeeze my shoulder in a reassuring manner and I feel warm all over despite the rush of emotion in my heart.

The wedding reception is to take place at a fancy restaurant overlooking the harbourfront. Our family has booked the venue for the evening, and as I enter, I take in the baby blue veils that come down each corner of the restaurant, sprinkles of glitter here and there as we make our way to our assigned tables that each have a baby blue napkin shaped in swans.

I don’t even have time to place my butt down when I hear a voice call out, “Y/N! Look how big you’ve gotten!”

Of course, big wedding ceremonies only mean that we get to meet all of our extended family that we haven’t seen since forever, and they’re all too happy to chat with me about living overseas. Soon enough, I’m bustled off to a table and look back over my shoulder to mouth a quick “I’m sorry” to Kevin. Bless his soul, for he only smiles and shakes his head, his hand motioning for me to go on.

I manage to catch up with cousins I haven’t seen since I was a little girl, talk over appetizers with excited aunts who want to know all about how it feels like to live away from family for such a long time, and nod along to the old uncles trying to get me to give a concrete answer about when and where will my wedding take place.

“Come on Y/N! You’re the next one after Emma for sure,” one of my uncles bellow, face flushed red as a result of the glasses of wine he has downed like water. He is Emma’s father, no surprise that he’ll want to get drunk from happiness and pride. It is his daughter’s wedding after all.

He leans close with a conspiratorial look in his eyes, “so tell me,” his eyes glance over to Kevin, currently deep in conversation with another one of my distant aunts. I watch as he says something to make her laugh, and something inside my chest warms at the action, “is he the lucky guy that’s going to ask for your hand?”

“Do you think he’s the one?” another uncle pipes up.

I purse my lips and attempt to shrug, “it’s early days,” I try laughing it off although it sounds forced, “who knows what can happen.”

“He’s a good kid,” an aunt says, “you know how we all have this sixth sense? Well Y/N, I have a good feeling about this young man. Don’t let him go. Something tells me he’s a keeper.”

A wild imaginative speculation, considering that we’re not even dating. But I nod along and say that yes, I’ll tell them whenever I decide to tie the knot.

It’s only when the dance floor opens and people start pooling onto the dance floor after the first dance -- led by no other than the bride and groom themselves -- that I finally allow myself to breathe. I find my way back to my chair, back to Kevin’s warm smile flashing in my direction as his eyes take in the fatigue lining my face.

“You look like you could use a drink,” is the first thing he tells me the moment I plop my butt onto my designed seat, the one that’s been kept cold ever since I stepped foot into the dining hall.

I gratefully accept the glass of wine he offers me, swallowing it down in a few gulps, “thanks,” I sigh with relief, “I needed that.”

“How was catching up with family?”

“It couldn’t be as bad as being left behind,” I peer over at him, guilt flooding me at the prospect of having left him all alone, “sorry. It’s just that everyone--”

“Oh stop that,” Kevin nudges my shoulder with his, “don’t be sorry. It’s totally normal. I’m happy for you. And I wasn’t left behind. I had a wonderful time talking to your aunt. She seemed so happy to tell me what your childhood was like.”

“Bet you liked that, didn’t you?”

“Hey, it works as blackmail. Why wouldn’t I like that?”

“Dork.”

“You’re friends with this dork.”

“Oh piss off,” I slap his shoulder playfully in retaliation, causing him to laugh softly as we watch couples glide across the dance floor like swans over water. The lights have dimmed, the yellow hues now replaced by soft cool blues and purples that cause Emma’s dress to shimmer every time she turns. She’s absolutely stunningly beautiful, and the way she and Vincent are gazing at each other just scream of pure love that wraps around them in a golden mist so enchantingly beautiful that I find myself catching my breath in the back of my throat.

“She’s so beautiful,” the words fall from my mouth without meaning to, and I feel Kevin’s eyes on my face from the corner of my peripheral.

“You are too.”

I bite my lip and narrow my eyes at him playfully, “thanks, but why do I have a feeling that this isn’t a compliment?”

“It isn’t,” he holds my gaze, “it’s just the truth.”

Emotion lodges at the back of my throat. I stare at him. He stares back, a glimmer of tenderness echoing through the dark pools of black, his whole expression relaxed into a face that appears flooded with affection for--

Me.

For some reason, no words seem to come to me as I open my mouth and close it. Embarrassment slowly bubbles through my stomach. I look away, unable to contain the goosebumps suddenly exploding across the back of my neck with that same familiar uncomfortable sensation I keep getting around him these days. Like I’m standing atop a cliff and preparing myself to jump.

“Wanna dance?”

I blink in surprise, before turning to the said young man beside me who has his head cocked to the side with that same expression. My heart can’t help but squeeze inside my chest before I push down the rising protest searing through my brain.

I nod. And off we go onto the dance floor. His hands settle on my waist, mine atop his shoulders in a casual sling. There’s enough distance between our bodies to show that we’re not together and yet, I can’t deny that electrical tension that keeps on pulling me towards Kevin like a magnet. I wonder if he feels it too, that searing heat that is so palpable I can feel sweat break out from the back of my neck. Asking, though, would mean that I’m aware of what’s happening, asking would imply that I want something to happen.

Maybe I do.

Maybe I do want to grab life by the reins myself and steer it wherever I want it to go.

“What are you thinking about?”

I blink. Right up into Kevin’s brown orbs, his hair catching the shades of blue from the disco balls. My throat runs dry.

“Uh--” my mind tries to scramble for a response, any response, “just--uhm, it’s kind of like our last day here.”

He cocks his head, “sad?”

“Kinda. I like it here,” my eyes brush over Emma and Vincent’s forms in the vicinity, catch my grandma sitting at one of the tables, little cousins running all over the place. Then, I look back at the said young man gazing at me with that undecipherable look in his eyes that makes my heart sing, and try not to squirm as I continue softly, “it feels like home.”

“We can always come back,” he uses ‘we’ as though it’s now an adventure kept between the two of us, a secret to our own little neverland that nobody knows about. I can’t help but smile at the thought.

“Do you want to come back?” I ask.

“Are you kidding? Hell yeah I want to come back. The views are amazing, the food is out of this world, and your family has been really kind to me.”

“I’m sorry, they are kind of overbearing when you first get to know them.”

“I love it,” Kevin says seriously, “I love that they’re overbearing. Couldn’t have asked for anything more.”

If I had any doubts, the sincerity dripping from his eyes is enough to wipe out any suspicions left from his compliment. The sudden urge to hug him rocks through me and my hands fist on the back of his shirt in response.

We keep on dancing silently, bobbing from one foot to another for a few minutes more before he speaks up softly.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“I wouldn't mind getting married here.”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “really now?”

“Yup,” he grins, “really.”

“Your future wife will have me to thank for that.”

“Maybe my future wife won’t have to thank you.”

There it is. That same borderline flirting that’s been happening for days on end.

“And why is that?” I probe, partly just to tease him, and partly because I just want to know.

“Maybe she might be right here, in this room.”

“Didn’t know you were into one of my cousins,” I start looking around the room, only for one of his hands to cup my cheek to turn my face back to his.

There is none of that teasing glimmer now. His eyes are darker, gazing down at me with such emotion that the breath catches in the back of my throat and the air halts in my lungs. We gaze at each other for a few beats longer, before I feel his thumb graze my cheek. Gently, so gently like he’d stroke a flower petal.

Swallowing at the heat of his hand cupping the side of my face, my hands unconsciously tighten on the back of his neck. He senses my nervousness, but only pulls me slightly closer so that we are mere millimeters from each other, noses hovering over each other in a space that causes my heart to stutter inside my chest.

When he opens his mouth next, his alto is hoarse, pent-up with emotion.

“I wasn’t talking about your cousins.”

My heart practically jumps to my throat, teeth biting onto my lip.

I can’t hear the music, nor the people. I can’t hear anything except for my pounding heart and Kevin’s soft breaths washing over my face.

His eyes search mine and we hold gazes for a moment too long.

“Y/N?”

I press my lips together, “Y-Yes?”

He moves even closer then so that his nose brushes mine in the most intimate of ways.

“I--”

“Y/N! I was looking all over for you!”

We spring apart like we just got burnt just in time for one of my cousins to grab onto my arm. He sends an apologetic smile at Kevin, before explaining, “we just need to sort out the takeaways. She’ll be back in a second!”

And without listening to my protests, he proceeds to drag me away from the said young man on the dancefloor. I look back, mouthing an ‘I’m sorry” once more -- it’s the second time that night!-- and see the raven-haired man laugh good-naturedly before shaking his head and waving me away. That does nothing to keep my heart from cartwheeling out of my chest, swelling up with such affection that I grin back despite the earlier predicament.

One thing’s for sure: I’m not done talking with Kevin Moon yet.

----------

I find him sitting alone in the tiny garden that overlooks the decorated pavillon a few hours later. His figure, illuminated by the soft yellow hues of interior light, seems to glow in the dark, the moon bouncing off his hair and catching the strength of his cheekbone when he turns and catches me staring. He only smiles though -- that beautiful tender smile that I keep seeing more and more these days -- before waving me over.

“What are you doing out here all alone?” I ask as I reach his figure. A soft breeze dances along the back of my spine, cool in contrast to the warm stickiness of the air.

“Your smaller cousin was showing me what she’d learnt in astronomy at her school,” he tilts his head up at the sky, “she’s quite the prodigy at that.”

“The next woman to land on the moon,” I joke.

“Jeez, I should get her autograph.”

“Wise idea,” that’s when I feel his hand slip into mine and I look down at him, blinking. He grins a little shyly, before tugging me forward so that I all but stumble right into him, halfway sprawled across his lap.

Heat explodes through my chest at the proximity of our bodies and I can’t help but avert my gaze from his, partly embarrassed that maybe there might be someone around to see, and partly because it’s only recently that I’ve started seeing Kevin in a new light that being so close makes my heart choke up and my mind to run blank.

We’re close. So close I feel his breath mingle with mine. My hands settle atop his chest lightly, “Kev,” I breathe out but nothing follows, too scared to verbally voice out what is going on for fear that it might all crumble into nothing.

I don’t want false hope. I also don’t want his heart -- or mine -- to break.

This friendship is too precious to let go. I can’t imagine a life without Kevin in it.

“Listen Y/N,” Kevin’s voice is soft, a hushed murmur resonating through his chest as his eyes search mine, “I think we both know what’s happening here.”

I nod mutely.

Taking a shaky breath, he continues, “I don’t want to do anything that will hurt you. I know it’s been tough and that you’re still healing. I just--I just want to know.”

As his words wash over me as gently as the forest leaves rustling around us, I feel the warmth of his hand cupping my cheek, holding me like I am fine china and stroking my skin with his thumb so that butterflies suddenly rush along my middle.

I bite my lip so hard I can taste blood, " I-- well, I think you already know how I feel."

"I know," he breathes, "but I need to hear it from you."

As if it isn't hard enough to come face to face with my own feelings, having Kevin stare me down as though I put the moon in his sky makes me want to squirm with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement.

“I like you,” I blurt out then, “a lot.”

There is a few seconds delay, before a shit-- eating grin --the biggest I’ve ever seen -- spreads across Kevin’s face like sunshine peeking through the clouds.

“Enough for us to go on a date?”

I nod mutely. I don’t trust my voice, not right now when I already feel so pathetic. Kevin’s grin softens into a tender smile, one that I can’t help but return when our eyes meet in the most intimate of ways. Suddenly, the air feels charged and alive with electricity, the heat between our bodies palpable as his hand moves to the back of my neck.

He tugs. I follow.

His lips find mine mid-way in a delicate kiss.

It’s soft. Softer than any kiss I’ve ever had. Kevin’s mouth parts over my own in a gentle caress, before he tilts his head to the side and captures my lower lip between his.

I gasp slightly at the contact, hands unconsciously tightening around his neck.

Slowly leaning away, I notice the film of lust like a dull glow at the back of his maroon orbs, just the slightest hint that he wants me as a woman. And that makes my lungs constrict, air suddenly halting in the back of my throat.

My skin is prickling with the aftermath of his touch. I let out a soft breath before he covers my mouth with his once more and all thoughts fly out of my brain the moment he does.

I don’t really know how long we spend outside, exchanging the softest of kisses underneath the moonlight, until I hear the soft exclamations of my family’s voices suggesting that it is time to head home. So I part from the said man and can’t help but blush at the lack of space between our bodies.

“We should probably head back,” I hate how wanton I sound, like I’ve just sprinted a mile when in truth I’ve been sitting in this very spot for the last hour.

He agrees and I descend from his lap, his hand subtly finding mine as we walk back to the wedding hall.

Emma is still saying her goodbyes, her hair now dotted with glitter, probably from the decorations that my younger cousins took pleasure in bathing her in. Her face lights up as soon as she spots our entwined hands and I try not to meet her eyes for I know exactly the kind of smug look she'll be giving me.

"Enjoyed the wedding?" She says as soon as we're within earshot.

"That must've been the best cake I've had in my life," Kevin lets out a dramatic sigh, "and that says something."

"Do I trust your taste buds though?" She teases.

"I'd be offended if you didn't," he gasped in mock offense, before they both break into playful chuckles.

As we exchange our goodbyes and Vincent engages Kevin in a conversation, Emma takes this chance to drag me to her side as she whispers, "so you gonna tell me the tea or am I going to have to extract it from you?"

I press my lips together as I try to control the heat searing through the back of my neck, "...we kissed."

She gasps, "No way! OH MY GOD! Are you guys a thing then?!" The answer is as clear as water on my face and she clamps a hand over her mouth, would've jumped up and down if she could've, "OH MY, OH MY GOD. I knew it! I just knew this was going to happen--"

"Shut up!" I hiss, scared that Kevin might overhear and think I'm a big fat tattle tale. My eyes quickly swivel over to his and I'm glad to find his head bent towards Vincent in concentration.

"You need to tell me everything," Emma's eyes are sparkling, "like--as soon as you have some free time."

"You--" I send her a pointed look, then jerk my head at Vincent, "--need to tell me everything."

"Oh I will, don't worry."

"Anyway, I'll talk to you after your honeymoon."

"Okay," I turn around to find Kevin, not failing to notice the smirk playing on Emma's lips. I slap her arm in response, causing her to laugh before she calls out:

"Don't forget to use protection!"

-----------

"We'll come back right?"

That's the first thing that Kevin states as soon as we step inside security, away from the tears of my family that I just left behind a few seconds ago. My heart still aches when I think of their faces, all crumpled and blinking at me with tissues in hand and noses as red as traffic lights. But I seek comfort upon feeling Kevin's hand slip through mine as we walk towards our destined gate.

"Sure," I look at him; at his red-tinted cheeks (probably the aftermath of a sunburn), his newly tanned skin a fresh contrast against his white shirt, and the permanent grin that seems impossible to wipe off his face. My heart instantly flutters.

It's only been a few days since we've confessed our growing romantic interest in each other, but I can already feel the weight of his love pouring out of his heart and into mine the moment he realized that my arms would be there to catch him when he fell.

"I'm not going to wake up to an empty bed tomorrow morning, am I?" He’d joked when we stumbled, half-asleep, into Emma's flat after the wedding.

I frowned at him, "Why would you think that?"

"Just in case you think that kissing me was a mistake."

A small pause ensued, in which I realized that despite all my fears and all the pain I had been carrying in my heart ever since we landed on my motherland, I had not once considered how Kevin might be feeling at this very moment.

My eyes quickly took note of his countenance, sweeping right up to his face only to notice the flash of vulnerability in his eyes, the way the corners of his mouth were tense, cheekbones taught against his skin as he awaited for my answer with baited breath.

Clearing my throat, I whispered, "it wasn't."

A soft smile tugged at his lips, "good to know."

His answer seemed so genuine, so wholehearted that my chest tightened in a mixture of gratefulness and affection, so much so that my arms automatically reached for him to tug him close. My nose found its rightful place at his neck and I breathed in his comforting lilac smell that I enjoyed so much.

I felt him take a breath. Then, softly, a hand caressed the back of my head. I buried even closer if that was possible.

"I really want this to work," my words were a muffled mess and I was surprised that he understood.

"Me too," he murmured into my hair, "and it will work. I promise I won't break your heart Y/N."

Looking back now at this tender moment in which we both weren't certain of where we were stepping, I can't help but laugh at the thought, for now the love and attraction is so natural I'm amazed it has taken this long to flourish.

Maybe I hadn't been looking the right way. Maybe I had been searching so far out and wide that I hadn't noticed that my safe harbour is the one standing right beside me.

"Hey Kevin," I call out.

Kevin turns towards me, where he'd been watching planes take off from the ground into the gorgeously blue sunny sky.

"Yeah?"

“I’m really glad you came.”

There's a few beats of silence although his mouth immediately cracks into that gorgeous, crooked grin of his that I adore so much.

“Me too.”

----

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your-art-is-gay · 3 years

Text

Raya and the Last Dragon: my thoughts

I’ve officially sat down and watched Raya and the Last Dragon now that its out, so here’s an informal review of it from yours truly. Spoiler warning, obviously.

Naturally, the animation was visually gorgeous. Hair movement, lighting, water animation. There was something particularly satisfying about the way that Sisu’s hair was animated, though that may just be me. I think that, as far as world environments go, Moana was prettier, but I’m a massive sucker for that tropical ocean aesthetic, so that’s mostly down to personal preference.

For a while before the movie came out, I heard people complaining or picking on the way Disney designed the dragons. Hell, I was one of those people. I still think that giving Sisu a Disney Princess face was ridiculous (and every time she opened her mouth, I kept expecting to hear Idina Menzel talking), but I understand why they did it. It’s Disney. If they made Sisu look more like a traditionally fearsome dragon, how could they sell adorable plushies??

I mean, even HTTYD made the dragons decidedly cute, and Dreamworks has more balls when it comes to character design than Disney does.

As for the story, I can’t say anything about it was totally groundbreaking or anything, but hey, it’s a Disney film. A princess goes on a quest to save her father and all the people of her world from an evil shadowy force. Pretty basic stuff.

I think the narration at the beginning could have been handled....better. It felt a little clunky, which feels out of place for a Disney movie. I mean, there is a lot of worldbuilding going on, but still.

Maybe they could have gone with a flashback to the battle that initially destroyed (locked away) the Drun, framed as Raya’s father telling her the story before the gathering of the clans, explaining to her how Kumandra had fallen apart and how it was important to become Kumandra again. Like what Moana did. It might have been a bit repetitive, but hey, when it works, it works.

I think the most interesting part of the story came in the characterization of Raya herself. At the beginning of the story (after the flashback to The Day The World Broke), we have 18-year-old Raya at the end of her six-year-long-journey to find the last dragon at the end of a river.

She’s suave, she’s cool, she kicks major ass and has one of those gnarly jointed swords...and she’s alone. Other than her handy ride and best friend, the abso-fucking-lutely adorable Tuk Tuk, that is.

As the movie continues, we see that Raya has major trust issues. She works alone. Basically, she’s a Disney anti-hero. How cool is that?? It’s a major first for a Disney princess, and I think it’s one of the things that made me like her so much as a character.

And the most compelling part about that anti-hero-ness? Her drive is LOVE, not revenge. I’ve never seen that before!

Her entire push through the movie is to right a mistake she made as a child and see her father again (saving the world is just a plus to that). She doesn’t care about destroying every Drun, or getting revenge on Fang and Namaari for betraying her trust. Sure, she and Namaari fight, but it never feels like Raya is going out of her way to do so.

Naturally, this sort of thing is easier in a story where the motivating loved one isn’t dead. Raya can and will see her father again if she succeeds. It’s a little harder to write a love-motivated anti-hero if the one they’re doing it all for is dead and there’s no way to bring them back. I think it would be an interesting challenge though...hm, note to self.

At no point does Raya’s distrust of people feel silly or blown out of proportion, which some anti-heroes fall into sometimes. I mean, the last time she trusted someone, the world literally fell apart. Not to mention, she was a child when it happened! She witnessed her father trust in humankind and how that had gone so horribly wrong.

It makes sense why she wouldn’t just tell Namaari “oh hey, I found the last dragon and I’m collecting the pieces of the dragon stone so I can save the world.” Sure, telling Namaari that early on would have arguably made things go so much smoother. But Raya has seen what greed and distrust can do to people. She saw what happened the last time the leaders of the clans saw the dragon stone. If anyone found out that she had multiple dragon stone pieces and the last dragon alive, there’s no telling what sort of horrible things they’d do to obtain that power.

Raya’s arc with Sisu teaching her to learn to trust again is just fantastic, Sisu herself was just a fantastic character, and I love her. I love that she’s not the uber-powerful, majestic dragon Raya was expecting her to be. She’s goofy, she’s kind of naive, but she comes through in the end and you know that she’ll always be a fantastic friend.

The ending fight scene was gorgeous, and that final part where Raya finally trusts Namaari was just...oh, it was fantastic. And then the others following suit, because they know that if Raya actually trusts someone... And then, one by one, they give Namaari their dragon stone pieces and then let the Drun turn them to stone. Oh. Just. Just fantastic. That’s all I can say about that.

One thing that stuck out to me in the movie: the pose the Drun-turned statues made. It looks sort of like a praying position? Kind of like what Raya and the others did when they honored the family lost to the Drun, cupping the flowers in their hands before putting them in the water. I wish I knew more about the specifics of any of that, though. I know next to nothing about the South-East Asian cultures the movie drew inspiration from, so any cultural meaning is completely lost on me.

That being said, I really enjoyed the movie! It was an entertaining watch and a fantastic addition to the Disney Princess movies (assuming that Raya will, in fact, become an official Disney Princess). I love this newer direction Disney is taking with telling cultural stories like with Moana, and I hope this becomes a trend! (As long as they keep doing it well, I mean.) I’d really like to see a new Native American Disney princess. Preferably not one based on an actual historical figure because, well, you know how that went with Pocahontas.

TL;DR: I personally really liked Raya and the Last Dragon. The animation was great and the direction they took Raya’s character in is something we’ve never seen from a Disney Princess movie. I highly recommend watching it at least once. :)

-Artemus

#artemus opinionates #artemus reviews #artemus approved #Disney #disney raya #raya and the last dragon #raya and sisu #disney movie review #raya and the last dragon review

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sleepy-exe · 3 years

Text

Shapeshifter AU - 7

Iwaizumi x f!reader

<< Part 6 | Part 8 >>

Summary: Y/n goes to the park with Iwaizumi and finds a shapeshifter friend. Mizuki wants to know about this guy Y/n has been spending time with.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: none

Genre: sfw (18+ regardless), shapeshifter au, strangers to lovers

Part 7: We Could Be Friends

Y/n and Iwaizumi made plans to go to one of the forest parks nearly a week ago. But due to busy schedules, they didn't have any free days line up until now. This was the first time in awhile Y/n had been to a park in the forest in a long time. Which meant she wasn’t exactly the best guide. Luckily the park had marked paths through the area versus her usual running wild anywhere between the trees. Seeing sunshine through the trees may have been even prettier than the moonlight at night, tucked behind the treetops.

Used to the quietness of nocturnal animals and lack of any people, this area felt like another world even though they weren’t too far off from one of her frequented nighttime spots. Walking alongside Iwaizumi, she found herself almost constantly catching the sounds and movements of birds and small critters that she wouldn’t normally get to experience. She tried not to get distracted too much anytime Iwaizumi started talking. But with the new sounds and different scents through the trees, she couldn’t help but get distracted some.

“I thought you said you’ve been out here before,” Iwaizumi questioned, breaking her trance of the world around her.

“Huh? Oh.” She realized she had really slowed down her pace but quickly sped up again. “Yeah, but it's been a minute. It’s so.. alive here.”

“Alive? Isn’t fall kind of the opposite,” he said, crossing his arms. “And I mean, it's nice out here, but the way you keep looking around.. It’s like you’ve never seen such a place before.”

She laughed nervously. “Well, the last time I was out here I didn’t notice so many animals.”

He looked around, trying to spot something in the trees or fallen leaves, but other than a squirrel and a couple of birds he couldn’t find anything that could possibly be so interesting. But he decided not to argue. “Right,” fingers tapping his left bicep.

Soon they came across a stream off to the side of the designated path; likely the same stream that ran through where she sat with Sakusa a couple of weeks ago. Y/n took it upon herself to lead them off the path towards it. As she sat down in the leaves, Iwaizumi stood next to her, eyes narrowing. “Aren’t we supposed to stay on the paths?”

She looked up to him and smirked before bringing her attention to the water. “So? What, we might get yelled at? It’ll be fine.”

He watched her for a moment, then sat beside her. “I really don’t want to get kicked out of a park.”

She snickered. “Do you think this is any worse than showin’ up after dark? It’s fine! Just sit here and listen.”

He followed her command. “..The birds?”

“Hmm. Yes, but not just those. You can hear the water move, the breeze shuffling leaves, and there’s either squirrels or chipmunks running around the trees and ground.. Just sit here and relax, listening and being in nature.” She looked around to where she heard each sound as she spoke.

But he can’t hear every sound that she can. “Yeah, I guess I can do that..”

She took the chance to stubbly take in the new sights and sounds, getting better attuned with her lively-to-her surroundings. They stayed like that for a few minutes, before she looked over to him and realized he had been staring at her. Her eyes widened for a split second. “Come on.” She shoved his shoulder with a playfully grin before standing and dusting off her pants. “We’re like what, half around this trail?” She grabbed his arm and dragged him back towards the path with her.

They walked along the path for a while. Watching squirrels run about and climb trees, listening to everything Y/n had pointed out.

Her phone started buzzing repeatedly, so she slipped it out of her pocket to check what’s going on.

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “r u out on that date yet?”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “u said that’s today right?”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “when am i going to meet him”

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “not a date. i told you that”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “i barely know anything about him n dont even know what he looks like >:(“

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “come onnnnn i wanna see this guy that managed to get ur attention”

She chuckled. “It’s Mizuki.”

“How’s she?”

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “as if you and sakusa didnt get my attention”

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “what’s wrong with me having a new friend?”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “yeah but sakusa was all but forced into our friendship and i forced my way into your heart so whooo forced this lil friendship-thing? Who do i have to thank for helping socialize our Y/n”

She gave an exasperated sigh. “Apparently dying to meet you.”

He raised his eyebrows and slid his hands in his pockets. “You talk about me to your friends?”

“Mmm.. Well, it's hard to keep things from her. It seems like she always finds a way.” She crinkled her nose as they passed a plant that had a strong odor to her, though Iwaizumi didn't seem phased. “That and she saw me texting ya the other day and had to ask questions.” She shook her head. “The ever curious, Mizu’.”

He laughed. “She sounds.. interesting to have around.”

She giggled. “She’s high energy, but she means well. She’s just curious.”

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “wow”

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “i am capable of making friends on my own you know”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “uh huh and i’ll get to see him when?”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “why are you hiding him ;P is he that hot that you want to hide him away lol”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “love u”

“Maybe you should introduce us.” He bumped into her, grinning.

“If I do that she might drag you on last minute adventures. Which could range from running around downtown or staying in. But mostly out.” She gave a half shrug.

“That almost sounds like a complaint,” he said.

She waved a hand defensively. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the city and coming out here, but I prefer staying in more than she does.”

“Maybe we should have stayed in then.” He looked her over, noticing she was no longer looking around constantly. “Though you seem.. Not so overwhelmed now.”

She blushed in embarrassment. “Ah- Hmm, I’d say more like.. Deeply enjoying.. This place.”

He looked unimpressed by her poor explanation. “Uh huh.”

She cleared her throat and their conversation paused as they made their way to the end of the path. Enjoying the sights and sounds around them in the process.

“But really, I do love her and love having her around.” She giggled quietly to herself. “There’s not a dull moment with her. I may have to raise her spirits from time to time, but she can do the same for me.”

He smiled softly. “Sounds like you’re good friends.”

She hummed an agreement. “Maybe I will introduce you sometime.”

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “love you”

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “You became friends in college, right?” He tilted his head towards her.

She shook her head. “Yeah. We were both business majors and had a couple of classes together.. my second year, I think. And well, she has a way of befriending anyone. So next thing ya know, we were friends.”

Approaching the parking lot, they stopped to chat. Not having plans for if their little outing stopped here or not.

“Do you ever do anything other than go for walks or to bars in your free time?”

“I go out to eat,” she said matter-of-factly, then looked around the lot in front of them until she spotted her car. She found Iwaizumi’s green Tacoma several cars down from hers in the process.

He nodded slowly. “Okay.. but if those three things suddenly didn’t exist what would you do?”

She shrugs nonchalantly. “Guess I’d die.” She smirked.

He rolled his eyes and pointed to his truck. “So you don’t want to go to grab a bite then?”

“You have found my one true weakness,” she says dramatically with a hand on her chest and a sarcastic grin.

He shook his head. “Come on, follow me. There’s a little cafe not far from here, if that’s your thing. I can give you the address.”

She happily agrees at the promise of food and they head for her Civic. She drops into the driver’s seat and leaves the door wide open while Iwaizumi gives her the address. Once she has the GPS ready to go, he walks around the car to head for his truck. Kicking one leg outside the car, she texts Mizuki, deciding to entertain her with a selfie of the two from the beginning of their walk.

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “here”

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “Attachment.jpg”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “ooohh!! owo”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “he is HOT! no wonder you’re keeping him around”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “you met at that bar?? damn maybe i should have joined you lmao”

Hopefully that’ll keep her happy for a bit.

“Hmm?” Blur of orange to her right catching her interest. A gorgeous red fox had appeared while she was preoccupied, walking around the open driver’s door. Her eyes widened at the sight. Foxes typically stayed away from her, but she was almost only ever out here as a wolf, so that’s only to be expected. The fox sat on the pavement, giving her a cheerful tail wag. She cooed, “Hey there lil’ fella.”

Immediately the fox’s ears pulled back, and she swears its face scrunched. Not a minute later the fox swiftly hopped into her car and onto her lap, completely catching her off guard.

“Ho?” She squinted. How strange. She would have never imagined such behavior from a wild fox; though there is a shifter that looks oddly similar that probably would crawl in her lap if given the opportunity. He does have the same set of face markings..

The realization of the situation hit her. “Oh! No no, hey! I’m not alone here!” She quietly scolded the shifter in her lap, looking over to where Iwaizumi had parked but she couldn’t spot his truck passed the other cars from here. “Ah shit, do you need a ride home?” She asked the fox shifter just before he hopped into the backseat.

“Okay, uh, hold on.” She quickly dialed Iwaizumi, “Hey, uh, sorry, um.. No, no.. A friend just got a hold of me and needs me to take them home.. Ah, no! He’s fine, just- ..Actually, can we just change locations? ..Yeah, no, he's remotely close to where you live, kinda, so if you want to go anywhere around there, I can meet you when I’m done or something.. Yeah, yeah! I think I know that place..” She peered into the backseat at the fox. Cupping the microphone and sighing, she whispers to the fox, “You’re lucky I love you.”

Back to the phone, “Okay! I’ll see you there! Sorry, again!” Hanging up, she started the car. “Stay down until we hit the highway. Don’t shift yet either.”

Part 8 >>

#shapeshifter!haikyuu #shapeshifter au #iwaizumi haijime x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi fanfic #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi scenarios #haikyuu fanfic #strangers to friends #strangers to lovers

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docharvard · 5 years

Text

docharvard’s stardew mega modlist v.2

howdy doody everyboody!

my last modlist did pretty well with regards to notes, but there have been some major changes to both stardew and my modlist since then, so i thought it was high time i made a new one! once again, this is mostly graphical overhauls, with a few gameplay tweaks and cheats here and there. most of these mods are fairly popular, so chances are you would already know them, but i hope this compilation finds its use anyway. now, without further ado, the list starts under the cut!

one final warning before i proceed, as of today 21st of February 2020, some of these mod’s official releases do not work with Stardew 1.4.5, but they do have unofficial patches floating around on the forums that update them to work with this patch, and i will be linking to those instead of the official releases for those mods (you will need a chucklefish forums account to download them). if you see this in a few months or weeks time from when it is posted, it is probably in your best interests to check the official releases for updates.

ENGINES/PRE REQS most of, if not all, the mods on this list will require some combination of the following engines to run. i know nothing about coding, so i cannot give an apt description of what they do or how they work, but trust me, you will need them. if you don’t download all of the mods in this list, you might not need all of them, check the requirements segment on a mods nexus page to see which of these engines you will need to run it.

SMAPI - SMAPI is the modding API for Stardew, necessary for all modding (besides old xnb mods).

Content Patcher

Custom Critters

Json Assets

Mail Framework Mod

More Grass

PyTK

SpaceCore

TMXL Map Toolkit

QUALITY OF LIFE mods that don’t change the game significantly, but slightly improve the base mechanics to make it easier/better.

Auto Animal Doors - automatically opens all barn and coop doors at a set time every morning, and closes it once all animals are back inside at night.

Big Silo - increases the hay capacity of silos to around 200k.

Casks Everywhere - gives the player the ability to put casks anywhere, instead of only in the basement of the house.

Crop Transplant - gives the player the ability to move crops and trees without destroying them.

Mod Update Menu - puts a handy-dandy extra button on the main menu that shows you your modlist and whether any mods are out of date. clicking on a mod in the list will take you to its web page, if you want to download the updated version. (sometimes, like SMAPIs console, it is wrong. occasionally will tell you a mod is out of date when it isn’t, but is more often right than wrong.)

No Crows - removes crows, no more losing crops to those thieving corvid so-and-so’s.

No Fence Decay - fences no longer decay and break down over time. they stand for time immeasurable, like the monolith in space odyssey, or the empty shell of a blockbuster video.

Safe Lightning - lightning will only strike lightning rods, or if none are available, it will not strike at all.

Stack Everything - gives the player the ability to stack every item in the game, items like casks can now be stacked instead of having a 1:1 ratio in inventory/chest space.

UI Info Suite - ui overhaul(ish) that adds things like being able to see if you’ve pet an animal that day, whether the travelling merchant is in town, what your luck is for the day, or how many days a crop/keg has until it’s finished, etc. this mod is a must have for any playthrough, even if you’re going completely vanilla. possibly the most useful mod that exists for stardew.

GAME TWEAKS things that add mechanics or change gameplay. immersion (i don’t know what else to call it)

Babies Take After Spouse - makes your children actually look like the offspring of your chosen spouse. also adds some more outfits for toddlers, if you’re into that.

Canon Friendly Dialogue Expansion - adds a metric buttload of new dialogue for all of the friendable characters, in case you’re sick of seeing the same four sentences on loop.

Cat Gifts - bit of a misnomer, makes your pet (either cat or dog) occasionally bring you gifts of random items. it’s pretty darn cute.

Climates of Ferngill - expands the games weather system, as well as tweaking the original one, to add new things like fog, and weather that changes over the span of a day instead of being one set thing.

Eemie’s Bees - adds bees! they hang around your beehives! very cute!

Lunar Disturbances - adds a rad lunar system to the game, including an overhead moon that goes through phases. also adds stuff like eclipses and blood moons.

Mizu’s Flowers - adds so many new flowers to the game. frankly, it’s quite homophobic how few variations are in the base game.

Oasis Greenhouse - completely reworks the greenhouse to be way bigger (on the inside, it doesn’t take up more space on the actual farm) and have more rooms in which to do greenhouse things, like spots to grow trees.

Seasonal Villager Outfits - stardew residents will now change clothes on the reg, including during different events, depending on the weather, and with the seasons.

Slime Hutch Winery - retextures the slime hutch to look Not Garbage, and adds a customisable inside space that you can combine with Casks Everywhere to make a usable winery.

cheats there is only one mod in this section but i couldn’t figure out what other section to put it in.

CJB Cheats Menu - it’s a cheats menu. for cheating. amongst normal cheaty things like infite health and stamina, gives you the ability to increase your movement speed, and harvest crops with a scythe, which i find immensely useful.

AESTHETIQUE who needs the orignal graphics when you’ve got soft pastel versions? most of these are by elle, aka junimods. she’s good at aesthetic overhauls, sue me.

Bathroom Replaces Spouse Room - replaces the spouse room with one of three nicer looking bathrooms, in case your spouse has decided to have an unchangeable hideous colour scheme that does not go with the rest of your house, like all of them do.

Better Artisan Goods - retextures the artisan goods (milk, cheese, fruits, etc) to look prettier/more accurate.

Elle’s Cat Replacements - highly customisable cat retexture, including fur patterns, and the colour of its collar.

Elle’s Critter and Butterfly Replacements - retextures the little critters and butterflies that hang around the valley.

Elle’s Dog Replacements - same as the cat replacements but for dogs. the nomenclature is difficult to grasp, i know.

Elle’s New Barn Animals - retextures of all the barn animals, with a whole bunch of customisation options to choose from for each.

Elle’s New Coop Animals - same as the barn animals one. shocker.

Elle’s Seasonal Buildings - highly customisable retexture of all the buildings on the farm. pick from a bunch of designs and colour palettes to make your farm the best representation of you it can be. or don’t, i’m not your dad, i can’t tell you what to do.

Flippsie’s Alternative Lamp Posts - retextures lamp posts to look a little more victorian and aesthetic-y.

Garden Variety UI - customisable ui colours! let’s you customise the look of all the menus, inventory bar, etc, from a buuuunch of different colours and designs.

Industrial Kitchen and Interior - retextures the kitchen appliances and benches to a softer aesthetic.

Starblue Valley - reshades the whoooole of stardew to make it colour gooder. greens are more green, blues are more blue, and the whole game looks a lot less yellow and harsh. much softer and easier on the eyes.

Wildflower Grass Field - retextures and adds a bunch of variation to the grass that grows around the valley. instead of one grass texture everywhere, there is now over 50 possible combinations, really makes the whole place look much more realistic and varied.

Yellog’s Wood Craftables - retextures and redesigns the craftables (chests, beehives, kegs, cheese press, etc) to have a softer palette, with a rustic wooden aesthetic.

and that’s that folks! i also use these two harvey dialogue expansion packs, but that’s because he’s my favourite bachelor, so i kept them off the general list. i hope y'all found this modlist useful, sorry it took me so long to get around to making/updating it. thank you so much for all the followers on this newer sideblog of mine, it’s really cool to see other people enjoying a game that i love so much. catch y'all on the flipside! ^-^

#stardew #stardew valley #stardew valley modding #stardew modding #stardew mods #stardew valley mods #stardew modlist #stardew valley modlist

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forkanna · 3 years

Link

[AO3] [WATTPAD]

NOTE: Most Japanese schools run Monday through Saturday. Also, thanks for keeping up with this story, despite my choppy update schedule!

Saturday slipped by awkwardly. That really was the best description for it, terrible as that reality was; the whole situation felt awkward.

The night before, they had parted ways at the train station. A tacit agreement had been reached that too much had happened in a single day, and they both needed time to process. They texted a few things about being glad they hung out that day, or what they were eating for dinner, but mostly they kept to themselves.

Rise had been hoping the next day would find them magically falling back together and not having to worry about how intense things had been in Shinjuku. Alas, they avoided each other. Neither seemed to want to be the one to reach out and initiate contact. Maybe they had told themselves that they were over it but clearly it was another matter to put so much raw emotion on display, then face the consequences. Plus, Ai had been very wasted and probably felt embarrassed she let it lead to so many things she definitely had not been planning for their outing. Rise could completely understand that.

But when school let out, she tried to screw her courage to the sticking-place and go find her maybe-girlfriend. Boyfriend? The whole thing still confused her, but she knew enough now to accept that said confusion did not at all mean she was disinterested. Far from it. She just had to figure out how deep her interest lay.

Ai was gone already. Probably to Shinjuku, or Okina, or Okinawa for all she knew. No new texts, either; she finally summoned her courage and sent a simple 'What are you doing?' but got no reply.

"Figures," she muttered as she stared at the screen, walking slowly toward Marukyu. "Why does she have to disappear on meeeee?"

"Who?"

"AAAH!" she gasped out, jumping into Chie's arms. The startled girl staggered and yelped as she tried to support Rise's weight, and of course, in the end they went down like a ton of bricks.

"HEY!" Hissing in pain, she shoved at Rise and said, "Get off! What are you DOING?!"

Rise hissed as well as she picked herself up. "Oww, my knee! I'm- oh God, where's my phone? What happened to my phone?!"

The two of them scrambled around on the side of the road, trying to figure out where the piece of vital technology had disappeared to. Once or twice, they even rolled down the riverside hill thanks to how slippery the light rain had made it earlier. Eventually, Chie turned up with it, and they sat panting with relief on the slope for a little while, trying to recover from the unexpected flurry of activity.

"You were… totally off in your own world, dude!" Chie panted, staring up at the clouds. "What the hell? You didn't even… hear me calling to you!"

"Ahh… hahh… I… sorry…" Chie was definitely in better shape than her. But she did finally manage to swallow and roll over to face the other girl, trying to prop her head up on her arm. "I've been… hoping Ai would text me back, and… my brain is…" She made a vague motion off into the distance.

"Yeah! Yeah, I get that one. For sure, believe me."

"Really? Because… you and Yukiko?"

"That's…" She did grimace, but finally just said, "Whatever."

"HAH! I knew it!"

"What's your problem, if you don't mind me asking? With Ai. Did you have a fight or something?"

"N-no, not really… a fight." Another deep breath to brace herself, and because she was still a little dizzy. "She told me something yesterday that… I mean, it has me really confused, and I just kinda wish somebody would tell me what to do and how to feel."

Chie snorted. "Thought Ai was really good at that. But okay, what happened?"

Rise told her, as briefly as she could. Which didn't end up being very brief. By the time she had explained the whole situation, they were stuffed into the back corner of Aiya, a couple of bowls of noodles and some sodas in front of them. The hot food would help them dry off after rolling around on a damp hill. Chie had plowed through a lot more of hers considering she was mostly listening and could let her mouth focus on that sweet sweet beef she coveted so much.

"Lembge geddiz straig."

"How about I let you swallow first?" Rise said with a wince. "I'm sorry, I just really can't understand you."

Chie nodded, chewed hard a few times, and gulped. "Ah! DAMN, do I love meat! Okay… what were we talking about?" When Rise let out an exasperated noise, she chuckled and said, "Just kidding. But yeah… I guess Ai's a guy. Weird."

"Right? Because I mean, look at her. How can she be a boy?!"

"Yeah! Like, I get what you were saying, about like… crossdressers on TV and junk. Some of them look like hell and some of them are really cute, but you can still tell. But Ai is like… he's a chick! Really, really a chick, like us! I'd never think…"

"Yeah," she agreed with a dejected sigh. "And at first I thought she was lying, Chie-chan, or trying to play a really mean joke on me, but now I don't think so. She was dead serious. And the way she talked about how hard it was for her to be herself when she was being told by everyone else she had to 'be manly'? I get that. Not that exactly but I know what it's like for everybody to be looking at you one way and wishing they could just… listen."

The tomboyish senior frowned down at her bowl as she stirred its contents with her chopsticks. "Pretty rotten. I mean, you weren't there for me having to confront my Shadow, but I used to have a lot more issues with that, too. I was jealous of Yukiko. That's stupid, she's my best friend! But she's so beautiful; I mean, you know, you've seen her. And I'm this fugly pile of dog doo."

"Aww, you are not," Rise said with a frown. "Don't say that."

"Nah, it's okay now. I mean, I know I'm not hideous but I'm not jealous because Yukiko is prettier anymore. That's just, like… I'm lucky to know her, and happy she gets attention. She deserves it." When she looked over and saw Rise's frown had completely turned upside down, she ducked her head. "Sh-shut up, I'm just happy for my friend!"

"Uh huh. But yeah… we've all been through a lot, and seen some really crazy stuff. I don't know why I freaked out so much about Ebihara now; so what if she is a boy? She's still a hotter girl than any of the rest of us will ever be, regardless."

Chie pointed her chopsticks at the idol. "Hey, watch it! You're lumping Yukiko in with the rest of us, and I know you're not trying to say she isn't the prettiest girl in Inaba!"

"Hey, hey, easy, Bruce Lee! Oh — right, did you get it?"

"Get what?"

"N-nothing." That was close; Yukiko would have had every right to be angry with her if she spilled the secret before its time.

"Riiight. Anyway, I… man, I'm really sorry for getting so cheesed off."

"You should be. I mean, you know I wasn't trying to diss anyone, I was just commenting on how pretty my girlfriend is. Boyfriend. Whatever."

"Yeah, that's gonna be a mind-fuck for a little while," Chie snickered as she took another huge bite. Where she put it all, Rise would never know. "So you didn't see it?"

"See what?" When Chie just stuck her pinky out and waggled it back and forth, eyebrows moving in much the same manner suggestively, Rise felt her face flush. "N-no, I did not."

"Awwwww, I was gonna ask about the size."

"CHIE!"

"Well, what else am I supposed to ask?!" she burst out in exasperation. "Like, clearly the rest of him looks like a chick, so that seems like the biggest difference! I just wanted to know how big that difference was!"

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she finally simply sighed, "I'll let you know. If I ever find out, I mean… since she's not talking to me today."

"Aww… yeah." Growing more serious, she stuck her chopsticks in the bowl and put an arm around Rise. "Listen… all dumb jokes aside, that sucks. But he's probably just trying to sort things out, like you are. I mean, you said he can't even figure out if he's a girl or a boy, so like, on top of having the hots for his new best friend? That's a lot."

Something about the way Chie kept saying "he" and "his" was bothering Rise. She knew it was technically accurate — again, assuming this was all true, which she had decided to believe for the time being — but it didn't sit right. Didn't Ai say she had known all along she was a woman, even when the world saw her as male? But she didn't want to get too bogged down by worrying about that niggling little detail just now.

"Okay, so I'm an idol, she's a fashionista. If she is a boy, maybe it's not as weird that we hook up — like, she could be my fashion designer when I make my comeback. Right? Or… if she's not a boy, then she can be, anyway, and… we could… date secretly."

"Secretly? I thought you said you would be Japan's first gay idol."

"I'd love to be, but I also don't know if that'll work. My management might not like that I'm throwing them a curveball. And… I guess…" Rise felt her eyes watering. That was stupid. "I don't want to stop being Risette."

Chie snorted. "Pretty sure you're going to be Risette forever, even if you don't like it. Which I thought you didn't, but like, you did say you're accepting it again."

"No, I meant that… if I really am interested in women, and I come out, I won't be 'Risette the idol'. I'll be 'Risette the gay icon', or 'that lesbian singer'. Dumb stuff like that. I've been thinking about it a lot, and that could be really cool, but it also means I have to give up having fans who just like me because I'm cute and I can sing. It'll get super political."

"Oh… yeesh, I hadn't thought about any of that junk at all. That sounds like a big pain."

Whimpering, she flopped down on her arms. "But it's important. Like, I've never thought it was right that queers in Japan don't have any representation really. Y'know?"

"But they do! Well… not a lot, I mean… Ikko, like you said, and that one drag queen, Matsuko Deluxe… and I thought I heard Utada might be? Or her teddy bear was…" When Rise just cracked an eye in her direction, she wilted. "Yeah, okay, so not that many. Seems like everybody's gay in the West, and over here it's like, five people."

"That we know about."

"Yeah. I never really thought that hard about it… but I guess… I should have."

A slight smirk tugged at the corner of Rise's mouth. "Why should you have? Hmmmm?"

"Well… you know."

"See? You can't even tell me! I'm right here telling you I made out with either a girl, or a guy who wears girl clothes better than me, and you still don't feel like you can tell me the truth! That's exactly it — we just don't wanna talk about it!"

Chie was poking the tips of her index fingers into each other as she stared down at her bowl, face glowing like a stoplight. Rise knew she was being a little mean, but she also had a decent reason to press this subject.

"Alright, forget it. I'm sorry."

"No, you're right, Rise-chan. I'm…" She took a deep breath, looked around the diner to make sure nobody was sneaking up on them. Still not that brave, it seemed. "I'm with Yukiko. We're together. And I don't just mean cool for the summer because we're trying stuff out; I mean forever. She's all mine, and she loves b-being mine, a-and… and I've never…"

Oh. Chie Satonaka, badass kung fu afficionado who helped save Inaba without anyone ever finding out what they did to protect the town… was crying. Rise sat up, brow furrowing hard as she watched this unprecedented phenomenon for a moment. Fat droplets of shame were rolling down to be absorbed by the collar of her ever-present green jacket as she gripped the skirt covering her thighs. How sad that trying to force herself to admit something like this was so difficult she couldn't do it without tears.

"Shhh," Rise soothed her as she pulled her into a warm embrace. And Chie clung as if she were a life raft. "It's okay. I'm on your side, okay? Remember? Investigation Team forever. Everything's gonna be fine."

That was all they could accomplish for a little while. Even though she was hiccuping and trying to keep her voice down, it seemed now that Chie had let down her ever-present shields it was all tumbling free in a rush. So Rise just held her, trying not to add to the mess by breaking down herself. Poor thing.

She only hoped time wouldn't make a liar out of her. Because if everything wasn't fine for Chie and Yukiko… then what chance did she and her boy-girlfriend have?

~ o ~

Ai did eventually get back into contact with her later that evening, via text. Her first order of business was a heartfelt apology for blowing her off all day. They both did the dance of trying to reassure the other person that it was no big deal, and they both just needed some space to figure things out.

AI: But I really threw you for a loop and we both know it

RISE: Definitely

RISE: I'm sorry I just don't have a gentle way to agree you really fucked me up

AI: Wow do you have to put it like THAT?!

AI: Sounds like I was doing it on purpose!

RISE: I know you weren't!

RISE: Seriously… I'm sorry I just needed to figure things out

AI: Yeah… me too

AI: Look can I just call

RISE: Oh uhhhhh I guess?

No answering text. Just her phone ringing, and the poor idol dropping it and leaning away on her bed. Feeling silly that it had startled her so badly, she scooped up the phone and answered. "Hello?"

"Do you hate me?"

Rise's blood froze in her veins as she sat up straighter. Ai sounded bad. Not just unhappy, or like she had been crying, but she sounded as if she were completely out of energy. Swallowing hard, she whispered, "Ai-chan? Are you okay? What's…"

"No." A little sniffle. "I… I fucked up."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm… so I've had this… I…" Rise didn't interrupt; just gave her time to collect her thoughts. "I'm bulimic. I've been purging on a regular basis since before junior high, and I thought I had it under control, but… today wasn't good."

"Oh…" Wincing at the notion, she went on, "Oh, that's terrible, I'm sorry. I mean, I get why you would, you… thought you needed to."

Silence. Then in a quiet whisper, "It's been worse lately. And I'm not stupid, I know it's because of you and me; I'm… messed up about it, and instead of confronting my feelings, I binge and purge. And it's disgusting, and I'm disgusting, and I haven't been able to keep anything down since… Shinjuku."

"Oh. The beer. That got you started again, didn't it?"

"Like I ever really stopped," she snorted harshly. "But you're not wrong. I've been pretty good about just sticking to my diet the past few months, and now I'm stress-eating all the time, and then I have to purge because my system can't handle it, a-and…"

When her words devolved into unintelligible noises, Rise just soothed her, "Wait, wait, it's okay. It's okay! I mean, I might not get all the, um… boy-girl stuff, and whether or not we should be… u-uh… whatever we should be." Wow, eloquent; pull it together, Rise! "But I'm used to bulimic girls."

"What? I mean, you are?"

"Sure. There's a ton of them in the entertainment industry; we're all supposed to look like adorable little stick figures who are always happy. It's hard. I'm just lucky that I'm naturally kind of lean, but I still do have to watch what I eat. Other girls aren't so lucky — like you. Just like that. So…"

Ai sounded so desperate for affirmation when she pleaded, "So I'm not broken?"

"No way! I mean, maybe you shouldn't do it anymore, but like, it happens all the time. You're not crazy, and you're not 'broken'. I mean it."

"That's… that's the most I've believed anyone when they told me that in a long time." A long sigh. She still sounded weak but Rise was trying to suppress slamming the panic button. "Dad tells me that, too, but he isn't very convincing. I mean, he's my dad, he has to say that shit."

Giggling softly, she laid back on her bed and picked at a fray in the comforter with her painted nails. "Yeah, I get that. Well, with my grandma. My parents don't even call."

"Bitches." They both laughed. "Um… I think I'm gonna make myself go get some juice… but um… before I go…"

"Yes?"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you so nice to me? I don't deserve it. No," she cut her off, and Rise almost laughed that her friend had predicted she was going to protest. "Don't argue, you know I'm a hot fucking mess. And I boss people around, and I… but you pushed until I let you befriend me. And I don't get it. I thought you were a nerd and a glutton for punishment, and you still showed me all this gross love until I caught it. Why would you? Why waste all that time on a gender-bending jerk like me when you could have picked any-"

"You're not a jerk. You're not a mess. And you are not alone."

The next word was a sob, but she was reasonably sure what she said was "Rise". So she just waited, curling up on her sheets more tightly with the phone pressed to her ear. Waiting, until finally… "Thank you."

"Hey, no big deal. Just… don't give up, okay? I'm in your corner, and I'm always going to be. You got a friend in me."

"Why does that sound so familiar?" she half-laughed.

Curling up with a warm smile on her face, Rise purred into the phone, "I have no idea, Ebi-chan. But I mean each and every word."

To Be Continued…

#we'll face ourselves #persona 4 fanfiction #saphir de lune #p4 fanfic #rise x ai #forkanna writes #jess the writer

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years

Text

Poison and Wine || Morgan & Miriam

Just two undead gals being pals.

@meflemming

The hide, not yet treated, floated in the water like forgotten flotsam after a wreck, or perhaps a dead body. Morgan had only floated in the deep after coming back from the dead, where she could rise or sink at will. She couldn’t imagine how she might have looked if her curse had tried to drown her instead, if Remmy would have had to fish her out with a hook, or their bare hands, but maybe it would have been something like this. “And you say this helps you feel more alive?” She asked, curious underneath her snark. “Do you think this is like, a thing for people like us? Searching for life in more death?” she mused.”I’ve spent a lot of time this past month watching animals die and thinking about taxidermy.”

Hair pulled back and sleeves rolled up, Miriam added a few chemicals to the water so that the hide didn’t damage while it soaked. It’d be a while before it was ready to go into the liming process, but she had a few pieces in various states of treatment to show off to Morgan since the other woman had been curious enough about the process. “Well, perhaps it’s a thing for you, but this goes a bit further back for me,” Miriam said, lips quirked up. She washed her hands, explaining, “Leatherworking has been in my family since before we moved to White Crest several odd generations ago. Though, I will admit, the process of dying has become much more interesting. I suppose since I can’t do it again…” She raised an eyebrow. “Taxidermy, though? An interesting pursuit. A fun one, too, I’ve heard.”

“I didn’t take you as someone into tradition, Mim,” Morgan said. “You seemed like such a renegade. Still, I mean you’re heading this operation by yourself. And everything here is…” More than a little impressive. Even to her undead senses, the leather workshop was rich with the smell of creation, death into a different kind of life. The tools were heavy, plain, and simple. The tables, spacious. Everything had its place, its purpose, its balance. It looked like the most beautiful puzzle to Morgan. “Yeah, you can’t really watch your own death, you only remember the part where it hurt, and where it was quiet. Or--I mean, do you? Still remember?” She sped along with the other train of discussion, just in case it was too personal, even for the strange bond of undeath between them. “Yeah, well, my girlfriend dabbles and I spent a lot of time in the shed where she works. Playing with glass eyes and small specimens she’s done. It’s kinda neat, how they get suspended in time, sometimes a little prettier, a little happier looking than they were before. Some of them still look alive, if it weren’t for how still they are. It’s...interesting, I guess. I think skinning the critters is going to be the hardest part, if I ever try. I kinda go apeshit for some nice, raw, dead tissue.”

“I have a head for business and a talent for making things, dearest,” Miriam said breezily. “And I put more work into this business than my father ever did. I actually make things. He simply ran them.” She looked around her home workshop, everything neat and orderly and accounted for. Her father had it built for her after… well, after. No windows for sunlight to escape in, and it was connected to the house through the wine cellar. It was the perfect workspace for all sorts of work, and Miriam took more than a little pride in it. She grew quiet, trying to think of her death. The car wreck, the pain and the heat of it, was still fresh on her mind. “I remember it rather clearly, though I couldn’t even begin to tell you when the troubles of my life ended and the troubles of my unlife began. Someone, though, came along, and here we stand. Making leather.” She walked over to a piece that was closer to being finished, the hide already cured and turned into actual leather. She’d been toying around with it, a messenger bag, perhaps, tooling floral designs into the flaps of it. On the table in front of it was the designs sketched out more clearly onto paper, so she had a rough idea on what she was creating. Next to it was a sketch of a pair of heeled boots she thought about attempting, though it’d been quite some time since she’d attempted shoes. “It’s all a bit macabre how we make beautiful things out of death, isn’t it? Jackets, taxidermied animals, it was all living once and we… I don’t guess I could say that I’m doing much to preserve it, but.” She looked Morgan over. “You’re still very new to all of this. Control comes with experience. Until then… Perhaps you can help her with the less bloodied parts?”

Morgan hadn’t considered that Miriam’s work would be a pragmatic choice. But she’d never had anything passed down to her except her curse, nothing she could use or consider her own. She was used to using whatever she had on hand, though. And this, well, she could admit was a pretty good ‘whatever’ to lean on in a crisis. “Do you identify more as an artist or a craftsman?” She asked, hearing Miriam’s pride in doing the heavy work on her own. “Oh, yeah, I think...that’s the hope right now. I haven’t really got up the nerve to see her while she’s working, but I fiddle with the tools sometimes, the glass eyes. It’s weird, what pains people will take to make something fake look like it has a spark of life. Although, I think it’s all in the lid sculpting, from what I can tell. Even in people, it’s the skin that signals emotion, or the eyebrows,” She gestured to Miriam’s own expression with a smirk.

Morgan wandered over to the work in progress, ghosting her finger along the shapes tooled into the leather. “With leather I guess it’s different,” she said. “What do you think about, when you’re making it into something? What are you trying to capture?”

Considering the question, Miriam cocked her head to the side, considering her work. “I suppose it depends on who you ask. One of my teachers in college would have said an artist. Between my sketches, and I’ve dabbled in other mediums. But some businessmen I’ve worked with would say a craftsman. All the work that goes into the craft, the labor behind it. But you asked me.” She paused. “I’d say there’s an art to the craft. I can do practical. I made a saddle once. Someone recently asked me for a harness.” Though, that one seemed to be more for pleasure than practicality. “But I like detail, and adding artistic flair to my work. I want it to be personal. When I do something, I like it to be one of a kind. I have two employees for the shop in town. We all work everything by hand, though they rarely cure their own leather. I buy supplies for them, and they make it lovely. They make it into art. So, I suppose it’s all about the piece, really.” She smirked, allowing her face to be more expressive. “There’s your convoluted answer for the day. Though I’m sure I’ll have more. And people don’t want it to seem fake. They want it to seem preserved. A dear family pet isn’t really dead, only sleeping by the fire. They want the illusion of well-preserved life.”

Miriam looked over at the piece, moving a bit closer to Morgan. How strange; she was rarely around other members of the undead. It was almost as quiet as if she was alone in the room. Not a single heartbeat between the two of them. “Mostly I’m trying to capture what the buyer wants,” she said wryly. “But sometimes, I’m simply playing around. I think about what looks pretty. If it’s something I could stand to own myself or not. I might see a design in something and think I can do it better, so I make the attempt. The end result is either something that can be sold at an extremely high price or an extremely low one.”

“You’re gonna hate this, but putting my spin on a commission was my favorite part of the alchemy-crystal game,” Morgan said, looking thoughtfully at the sketches on the table, carefully picking up one sheet, then the other. “Every once in a while I got some really boring, overly-detailed request, usually ugly too. But some people would say, I want an amethyst mirror, I want a smoky quartz ring holder that reminds me of my cat’s left paw, and that was it. That middle space, where what they want becomes part of the challenge, or the fun, was the best. I don’t even know how many sketchbooks like these I threw out.” She brushed her hands on her skirt, as if dusting away the memory, the longing for those hours. “Whatever I do next will be the old-fashioned way, don’t worry,” she said wryly. “A set up like this would be nice. It feels lived-in, for lack of a better word. I bet you could pass a whole day here and not notice a thing. Or maybe that’s just me? Time has a way of getting slippery. I’m not good at coming home when I’m supposed to unless I set an alarm. If it wasn’t for everyone else, I don’t think I’d mind so much. Days and nights don’t mean as much when you don’t sleep. But I guess that’s different for you, you sleep a little, right?” She danced her fingers on the edge of the table, pressing down, testing how much of it she could feel. “Do you have anyone, that makes time matter for you?”

“You were certainly good with your craft,” Miriam said, only a bit begrudgingly. She had the decanter Morgan made in the house, filled with quality bourbon. She’d yet to actually drink any of it, but she stared at it sometimes, torn between being disgusted and impressed. “I’ve always liked it when customers give me that bit of creative license, the freedom to give them what they want without it being too specific.” She did raise a single eyebrow a bit at Morgan’s comment. “Morgan, dear, I know it’s not quite the same,” not as wholly wrong, “as it was before, but, for better or worse, you’ll always be using magic with whatever you apply yourself to for the rest of your days. There’s no more old-fashioned way.” She looked around, taking pride in her workshop, the one place that she felt at home. “I do pass the whole day in here occasionally. Sometimes several days. No eating, no sleeping, no noticing the time until it’s pointed out to me.” She shrugged, leaned against the workbench. Miriam didn’t slump; she was raised better than that, but she did grab a pencil and twirl it between her fingers, thoughtful. “I sleep?” She hated how it sounded like a question. “Not for long, and it’s not… I don’t particularly dream or anything. I suppose it’s just rest. The closest I got to sleeping lasted for several years and was closer to death, I think.” She watched Morgan’s fingers and the slight dent in the table they caused. She didn’t say anything about it, though, too focused on the question. Did she? No. She had acquaintances, occasional dalliances, but no one who made time matter. That had been Theo and his family and her family. They were all gone now. Now, all she had was revenge, and that didn’t make time matter; it just made it drag. “I have my work,” she said breezily, while not being specific as to what work she meant. “It’s no person, but it serves its purpose.”

“What do you mean no more old-fashioned way? Like, because--” Because she was dead? Or un-dead rather? Morgan hadn’t thought of it that way before. Obviously what had happened to her wasn’t the norm. Dead people, generally speaking, did not come back. The soft nothing space she had slept in was the end of all things. There were no more sunrises or lovers or rabbits any more than there was no more sleep, no more taste. And with magic dead inside her, she carried that betrayal. She hadn’t thought that it was keeping her alive, somehow. That it had seeped into her corpse and carried her through her existence. But if it wasn’t her heart, what else could she call it? “Because of what I am? W-what--” She looked down at her hands, pasty and dead and--still, somehow hers. “Does that ever bother you? That you’re a little magic too? That the same energy in the universe that I used to control is part of why you’re still here? I just-- I’ve never even thought of it that way before,” and now that she had, now that she could, her mouth quirked upwards in a small guilty smile of wonder. How could she never have asked herself that before? And how did Miriam know, and want to comfort her with that truth? “I just wonder how you could, much less say it so easy like that.” She looked at Miriam thoughtfully, and wondered if her loneliness had been part of why she’d felt drawn to her before. She’d lost so much, even before she died, and she knew pain well enough to become bent and twisted by it. How heavy must it be to do that? “You should let yourself have people, Miriam,” she said. “Sometimes they’re the only thing that makes a day mean anything.” She held her gaze for as long as she could. Morgan wasn’t sure if Miriam would listen, if she knew that she meant it, but she hoped. Morgan rubbed her hands on her skirt and reached under the table to pop the dents she’d made smooth again. “Is there, uh, anything else I can see?”

“On the nose,” Miriam said quietly. “We’re just dead things reformed by something impossible to truly understand until we’re no longer quite dead.” She’d spent hours thinking on it, fretting about it. What she was, what made her, or, rather, unmade her. She had, for the early years, clung desperately to the idea that she might have survived that wretched car crash. It wouldn’t have killed her. She would have been fine. She’d been resentful of others like her, particularly those who weren’t bound to the town or molded by white-hot revenge. Eventually, she’d come to terms with magic, what it was and what it was for. “I have no problem with magic, Morgan. I truly don’t. It’s a beautiful thing, you know. But it doesn’t belong with humans.” How humans perverted magic. They used it and twisted it into beautiful things, sometimes, like Morgan’s crystals, but also awful, wretched things. “Magic corrupts them all, in the end. Kills them. It killed us.” Miriam places a hand over her unbeating chest. “Only difference is that it keeps us alive as well.” She knew she wasn’t going to get Morgan to see her side. Spellcasters, even former ones, rarely did. Though, she supposed that was usually because the conversation was a bit one-sided; she talked, they screamed. It made it so hard for them to hear her. The last one had screamed until he couldn’t; he’d been about useless, unable to tell her about any local covens or even how to fix her White Crest-locked predicament. He left his shoe, too. She saw it out of the corner of her eye but was careful not to draw too much attention to it. Instead, she met Morgan’s eyes and smiled. “Perhaps you’re right. It’d do me good to have,” she paused, ruminated on the word, “friends. We are so useless alone.” She clapped her hands together and looked around. “There’s not too much else going on in here, but there’s a set of stairs and a tunnel that connect to the house’s wine cellar so I can avoid sunlight. My mother’s idea.” It was also so the staff wouldn’t see the family’s bloody secret lurking around in the dark, but still. It was a nice gesture. “I have a fairly decent collection of alcohol. It’s practically useless unless in large quantities, but it’s pretty to look at.”

“A car killed you, unless there’s more to the story. Not that you have to share either, but—” Morgan shrugged, mouth stretched in a sympathetic grimace. “But my family curse killed me. So you’re not wrong there. I just didn’t think about magic as bringing me back. The magic I did before didn’t really look like this.” She slid off her cuff and showed the scar near her wrist in the shape of Remmy’s mouth. “But you’re right. Nothing else to call it.” She tugged the cuff back down and tugged on her sleeve for good measure. “And I am, about having friends. I don’t know how much you believe me, but I mean it. You should get to have people, Miriam. It means a lot, to be known.” She smirked at the idea of the wine cellar. “Hey, at least you can get drunk at all. I’m down to appreciate the aesthetic though.” She wandered over to the walls, looking for the stairs and room in question. She’d thought there’d be more, but it was almost a relief to see that Miriam held on to some of her humanity, even with the side murder.

“A car headed to confront my husband, who was only using me for money so that he could fund his coven’s magic is what killed me,” Miriam said with a shrug. It was fine. She’d come to terms with it. Her jacket was on the back of the chair she was standing near. She stroked the sleeve gently. “See, it’s magic that’s keeping us alive. Not what human’s can practice, of course.” They were doomed if spellcasters learned how to do whatever bullshit it was that made vampires and zombies. Then again… Necromancers. Miriam fucking hated spellcasters. She smirked, though. “Well, I do thank you for that, Morgan. I should invest in some people. Friends.” She batted her eyelashes, knowing it probably wouldn’t work with Morgan having a girlfriend but not being one to turn down an opportunity. “We can be friends, I hope? Put all the silliness of the past behind us?” She led the way to the stairs, wondering if she should move the shoe but deciding against it. “Have you tried mixing alcohol with, I don’t know, organs? That might get you a little buzzed. Blood always helps me.”

“People aren’t investments,” Morgan childed mildly. “It doesn’t necessarily speak badly of you if things don’t ‘pay off’ the way you want. What speaks well of you is that you try anyway.” She answered Miriam’s fluttering lashes with a coy smile, a roll of her eyes. It was a little late to pretend there wasn’t something of a connection between them. Mriam understood what it meant to walk through death in a way like she did, and without a reason to fear her, Morgan found the return of a feeling she’d had before: a wish that Miriam would let someone ease her pain a little, that she would let go and allow herself a different way of being. “We can be friends, yeah,” she said gently. “And, tragically, no boozy combo I’ve tried yet seems to take the edge off. So that’s one point for vampires!” She followed Miriam towards the dark hall, trailing her fingers on the wall. She noticed a stray shoe strewn absently as she went, pointing to it as she asked, “Do you, uh, get a lot of company down here?”

“Nonsense,” Miriam said. “I was always taught that people were investments. Good ones, if you went about it the right way.” But she could see what Morgan was saying. Relationships were meant to be enjoyed. They were good things, usually. Unfortunately, when all was said and done, Miriam had done a bit too much to allow anyone to get too close. She didn’t regret any of the wretches she’d killed; why, she could barely even remember their faces. Sure, the first few times had been rough, and sure, she ached for something to fill the whole inside of her, the one that wasn’t desperate for revenge and blood. But she was quite good at pushing all of that aside, pretending she was whole. She was still a young vampire, after all, more years in the ground than she’d spent as a creature of the night. Perhaps she’d eventually get used to feeling like this. And, if not, well. She’d read that vampires could turn it all off, if they so desired. Whatever would happen to her if she couldn’t feel her anger and rage? Her thirst for revenge? She didn’t know. Maybe she’d find out. “Darling, you can still go out in the sun. I’d trade all the booze in the world for a nice day sunning down at Dark Score. But maybe we can find something out there for you.” Looking at the shoe, she gave Morgan a wink. “Well, I did say I liked to have dalliances, didn’t I?”

Morgan winced, feeling guilty for bemoaning her eternal sobriety when Miriam couldn’t even watch a sunrise. She couldn’t feel a sunburn or a winter chill anymore, but she could stand in the light and the snow and imagine what it was like. She could remember, at least for now. “What, you mean drinking away the undead existential crisis isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?” She asked wryly. “That’s a fair point, you know,” she said. “More than. Sorry. Although, apparently there’s a giant squid in the lake that may or may not eat people, so maybe you’re not missing out on too much.” She really didn’t need to know anymore about Miriam’s dalliances, however charming calling them that sounded in her dated cadence. She scampered down the stairs after Miriam, ready to leave all of that behind and see the rest of her place.

“There’s nothing like a drunken bender every few weeks to destroy your liquor cabinet,” Miriam joked. Though, she wasn’t actually joking, seeing as how she could smell last week’s rage in the form of spilled wine all over the cellar. She sucked in her cheeks frowning. “I forgot about the mess down here. Those undead existential crises tend to end in a bit of broken glass.” She gave a short laugh, but she could clearly smell blood, human blood, underneath all the wine. And if she could, she figured Morgan could as well. “It’s nothing to apologize for, darling. And I have heard about the squid. See, I can’t recall anything like that happening back when I was alive.” Miriam really needed to learn to clean up after herself better. And, perhaps a wine cellar wasn’t the best place to torture a little witch bitch into giving her information on a coven she apparently didn’t know anything about. There’d been some spilled wine, spilled blood, and a new rosebush in the garden. But no cleaning of the wine cellar. It was a shame, too. In her rage she’d managed to break a few bottles of very pricey vintage. It was a waste on all fronts. She walked over to the stairwell leading to the house, a sigh on her lips as she stepped over the mess. Miriam gave Morgan a tight smile. “I’m sometimes unaware of my own strength and anger, these days.”

Maybe if she hadn’t died and made a passtime of stuffing her face with viscera, Morgan wouldn’t have been able to notice the difference between wine and bloodstains on sight. She might not have been able to sense some bits of dead skin, dead something, ground into the floor. But she was salivating in a way that made her clench up with undease. Why was she feeling the hunger pull? Why was there blood mixed with broken glass. Morgan stopped short, surveying the mess. She looked up at Miriam’s thin smile, too sharp to reach her eyes. She didn’t need to ask, she shouldn’t. The whole reason she had stayed away from Miriam for so long was because she knew what she was capable of. She didn’t just carry darkness in her, she had hatred. The kind of hatred that lead to a mess like this. Blood spread in so many directions couldn’t be from anything swift or easy. She backed away slowly. “Y-yeah, um...I can see that. That’s…” The smart thing to do would be to come up with some non threatening question to indicate she didn’t care or at least wasn’t going to push. But as she crept back up the way she came, eyes fixated on the stains she couldn’t un-see as blood she asked, “Who was that? How many...how many people do you bring down here?”

Miriam frowned. A part of her recognized that she should apologize, try to start this over and appeal to the tentative friendship that had been forming between the two of them since before Morgan even died. Miriam wouldn’t lie, she’d grown a bit fond of the witch even while she wanted to kill her, just as she’d always been fond of Theo’s sisters and friends. But Miriam had been raised to not apologize, even before she’d been turned, so she didn’t, couldn’t. Whatever. “It’s mostly just wine, you know,” she said as a way of explanation. But that wasn’t good enough, probably. Readjusted. She smiled, an attempt to soothe. Sometimes, Miriam forgot that she was more bite than bark. “Morgan, I would never harm you, you know. Not anymore. I have no reason to even try.” She adjusted her posture, trying to appear non threatening, but she could no more do that than get Morgan to forget their first encounter. So, she sighed and took a seat near the steps that led to her house. They were on opposite sides of the wine cellar, at an impasse. “I don’t ask for names,” she said. “And she didn’t have any information. Just a drifter, lucky bitch.” Really, Miriam couldn’t be to blame for killing the woman. She’d practically rubbed it in Miriam’s face that she could leave and perform magic while Miriam was stuck in this town as a living corpse. She closed her eyes and took a soothing breath that she didn’t need. “I don’t know. Not many. Wine cellars make terrible places to conduct business, you know. Too many breakable things that I don’t want broken.” She ran her finger through a dark, sticky substance near her heel.

“Miriam--” Morgan began, her voice soft and heavy with disappointment. What had she expected? Where was the surprise in any of this? She stopped, tugging on the roots of her hair as she tried to take in the cold, matter-of-fact way Miriam talked about her killings. It reminded her of Deirdre when she was at her worst, when she was the thing her mother wanted her to be. How could Miriam be this way in so short a time, after one heartbreak? Had she loved him that much, that nothing could exist for her besides that hurt? She let out a long sigh. “I know you wouldn’t, Miriam. I know that,” she said. “But I wish you would let this go. Or at least that I could understand how--why this is so important to you. If it’s so fulfilling, why do you have to turn yourself off like that.” She nodded in her direction, taking in all the signs, the hard lines, the heaviness of the apathy. It was somehow more horrible to look at than the blood. “I just...if it was really that worth it, I don’t think you would have to be like this about it. I think if you understood you can have something besides hating people who never hurt you…” What? She wasn’t sure. She couldn’t see another version of Miriam hiding under the darkness, exactly. She knew she was lonely, driven, proud. Sometimes, under the weight of her death and her un-life, she could be funny. But Morgan didn’t know what else. She just wanted to believe it existed. Another breath. It was stupid, she didn’t need to breathe at all, but if she could float some air into her, maybe she could understand why she felt this upset over something she should have known all along.

There was a part of Miriam that wanted desperately for someone, anyone, to understand. She couldn’t let it go. It wasn’t from a lack of trying. After she’d killed Theo, when the high from it all had faded away, she’d cried until she couldn’t. Her mother had been the one to find her, a bloody mess, a shadow of a human being, sobbing over what was left of the husband she’d killed. Her mother, prim and proper, who had left the rearing of her daughter to her stern and more business-oriented husband when Miriam had been more interested in leathers than satins, didn’t know how to react to seeing her child the murderer. The monster. She never did. And yet she’d tried to comfort. And Miriam had let her, had thought this was a one and done situation. But there was no such thing. She couldn’t explain the hunger or rage that was only quieted by others’ screams. Morgan would certainly never understand it. Instead, Miriam kept her face impassive as she licked the blood and wine off her fingers, her eyes flashing red at the taste. She smiled, both sharp and sanguine. “Dearest, I’m only being myself.” She leaned back against the steps. “At least, what’s left of me.” Her hate must be fed to be tempered. She’d learned that the hard way. Miriam would stop if she only knew how.

Morgan lingered in the stairwell, wondering again what in all the earth she had been thinking of in coming here. Why she didn’t have her fill of Miriam from the last time. Had she really set aside the hatred in her eyes over a shared dread of eternity? Was the numbness, the pain between them really enough to scrub away the things she’d done? When she’d been alive, Miriam had sent her to the flipping hospital, of all things. She looked at the woman, resigned and stubborn on the ground. She was so lost she couldn’t even argue with Morgan, couldn’t even fight her.

Morgan crossed the room, stepping over the mess out of respect for the dead. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know sorry’s are stupid, but since I actually know how it is to wake up and feel chunks of yourself missing, I feel like I’m allowed. And--I just don’t think those empty spaces have to stay that way. Not for you, or for anyone else. There has to be something different, something better for you.” She bent down, closer than she had ever been to Miriam yet. She ghosted her fingers over Miriam’s hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I wish you would look for it some more,” she said. Then she turned back the way she’d come and left.

Not meaning to, Miriam flinched back from the tenderness of Morgan’s touch. She hadn’t experienced anything like that in so long. Not even the people she’d slept with recently had been tender. But she didn’t cry, for what it was worth. Didn’t allow tears to even begin to well in the corners of her eyes. But she felt worn around the edges and seen. It was fucking with her head a bit. Did Morgan seriously think she could be redeemed? After all that she’d done? There was no redemption for her, only vengeance and the final death that it would bring. This was what she knew, what she felt in the pit of her cold heart. But she couldn’t find the words to say it. Instead, she said, “Shut the door on the way out, sweetness.” It wasn’t loud, and it lacked her usual bravado. She stood up slowly, a phantom feeling in her bones, like her true age’s weariness was catching up to her, and she went in the opposite direction. She was going to have to clean up herself, it seemed. Didn’t matter. She had a bit more time on her hands than she planned for the evening, anyway.

#wickedswriting #poison and wine #wr miriam #wr chatzy #wr miriam chatzy

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parab0mb · 4 years

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I live!

So... yeah, after about 3 and a half months of complete silence, I’m back. I know taking forever to upload anything new is a pretty common occurrence for me, but the whole summer is admittedly long even by my standards. Despite recently graduating I think a combination of career-hunting and depression siphoned any motivation I had to accomplish anything these past few months. I’m still busy with work and looking for a career but I’m at least feeling slightly more motivated now, at least enough to attempt to get back into a drawing mood, even if it’s nothing substantial.

Anyway, since I’ve had my OC Lilian on the brain for a while now, I figured I should draw her alongside the rest of the core cast for her story. Originally I was considering making a reference sheet for all of them (and I still might someday) but the aforementioned bout of depression combined with my usual laziness kept that from going anywhere, so instead I decided to draw them all together, so that I can have their designs all down on paper (this is also a personal ref for me to help remember their heights). Can’t say all the names/designs are set in stone but it’s a start.

Now then, wall-of-text character description time!:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~ Lilian Liao - An eleven-year old tomboy who seems to attract paranormal activity like a magnet, Lilian was hoping that moving to a new town would bring a sense of normalcy to her life. However, she quickly learns from her new neighbors (who happen to be a family of witches) that she is a medium who is fated to attract all manner of weirdness to herself no matter where she goes. On the other hand, while she may not be able to "turn off" her powers, she can learn to pacify and resolve the issues of the various supernatural entities she regularly encounters.

Impatient, ill-tempered, and a bit of a bully at times, Lilian's bad attitude tends to clash with her powers and she often makes a bad situation worse for herself because of it. Fortunately, with the help of the witch family next door, a wannabe conspiracy theorist, and a possessed talisman, Lilian may yet learn to control her powers (and temper) and find peace in her hectic life.

~ Ling's Talisman - Given to Lilian by her new witch neighbor Medea, the Talisman is an artifact of unknown origins capable of siphoning and amplifying magical power. However, upon receiving it Lilian quickly discovers the Talisman houses one other secret: a lingering fragment of its previous owner's soul. This previous owner, known only as Ling, was a medium just like Lilian but seems to have forgotten much about himself after lying dormant inside the Talisman for hundreds of years.

Ling is (understandably) bitter about his current, body-less state of being, and is apparently just as stubborn and hotheaded as Lilian, meaning the two are constantly butting heads with one another. Still, believing that Lilian's powers may be the key to exorcising himself from the talisman, Ling reluctantly agrees to teach her better control of her powers for their mutual benefit.

~ Devin Liao - Lilian's older brother; presents himself as a rebellious and edgy punk but isn't quite as deep as he thinks he is. Him and Lilian don't get along very well, and regularly belittle and argue with each other. While Devin is one of the few normal humans in Lilian's life who actually acknowledges all the paranormal activity that surrounds her, he does little to actually help her deal with it and will even complain if it begins to inconvenience him (even though she has little control over such things).

Still, in spite of their frequent bickering Devin does genuinely care about Lilian and will help her without a second thought should she find herself in legitimate trouble. And even without any supernatural powers of his own he proves himself to be surprisingly adept with confronting the paranormal (when forced to do so).

~ Hui Liao - Lilian’s and Devin’s father, Hui does his best to strike a balance between his demanding engineering career and being a reliable single parent, to which he is mostly successful. Hui has an almost unwavering levelheadedness and rarely ever grows impatient with his children's antics and bickering (while still knowing when to put his foot down and keep the two from tearing each other apart). He also does his best to support his kid’s interests, even if he doesn’t always understand them or unintentionally embarrasses them.

Unfortunately, Hui’s demanding career leaves him little time to physically be with his family, and despite his efforts to support Lilian and Devin he clearly does struggle to relate to their interests or help resolve their personal issues. Lilian in particular is distressed by her inability to prove the existence of the paranormal to her dad; while he would never scold her for claims of ghosts and monsters being real, as a man of science and reason Hui struggles to accept her seemingly baseless claims and chalks it all up to her simply having a vivid imagination.

~ Wally Peskon - A wannabe paranormal investigator and the closest thing Lilian has to a non-magic friend, 11-year old Wally quickly gravitated towards Lilian due to their like-minded fixation on proving they aren't crazy to the rest of the world. And at first Lilian was actually elated to meet a regular human who's observant of the paranormal, but her mood quickly changed when she realized he's a hack who gets caught on bogus conspiracy theories and completely overlooks real supernatural activity happening right in front of him. Not to mention he's frantic, clumsy, and a busybody, making just as much of a headache as the supernatural beings that are always bothering her.

Fortunately, Lilian and her unwanted paranormal company helps Wally improve his perception of what is and isn't real (somewhat), and he slowly begins to get better at recognizing and even helping Lilian resolve supernatural phenomena. He also has a habit of buying or cobbling together seemingly useless pieces of anti-paranormal equipment that sometimes end up saving the day. Sometimes.

~ Wednesday "Wendy" Cauldrison - Lilian's new neighbor and the 8-year old daughter of Medea Cauldrison, Wendy is a hyperactive and spontaneous witch-in-training who’s obsessed with all things cute and glimmering. Heavily sheltered from non-magic culture by her mother, Wendy quickly takes a liking to her new neighbor Lilian, who offers her a chance to hang out with normal humans and partake in non-magic activities. Unfortunately, while Wendy usually means well, her overambitious nature combined with the haphazard use of her magic often exacerbates Lilian's paranormal problems, and as such Lilian (at least initially) isn't exactly eager to let Wendy tag along with her.

Like her mother, Wendy's magical expertise mainly involves brewing up potions, powders, and other concoctions to cast spells. However, her lack of experience means a lot of her brews don't come out quite right and have unpredictable effects, while the few brews she actually does have a grasp on are only good at making things prettier or making them explode violently, with no in-between.

~ Medea Cauldrison - The mother of Wendy Cauldrison, Medea is a coven-less but highly experienced witch living in plain sight within Lilian’s new neighborhood (although she hardly has to try to keep it a secret). Despite appearances, she's over 600 years old and has traveled a good portion of the multiverse. And yet, in spite of her vast experience with all things magic, she knows surprisingly little about the culture and technology of humans, as she has a bit of a superiority complex towards them and tries to avoid interacting with them when possible (even going so far as to forbid Wendy from experiencing most of the human world for herself).

While Medea may not hold humanity in high regard, it can’t be denied that she’s still fairly knowledgeable of all things magic, and she’s highly understanding of Lilian's plight and (usually) willing to help her out. Combined with the fact that she's competent enough in her magic to ward off many of the more threatening paranormal creatures out there, she's certainly one of the more reliable personalities in Lilian's new neighborhood. Medea’s magical expertise revolves around nature and potions; she can not only conjure and manipulate plants but with the right ingredients can brew up all manner of potions and powders to suit any situation.

#I feel that Devin and Wendy are the most fun to draw of the lot #just throwing that out there #artwork #myartwork #lilian #lilian_liao #devin_liao #hui_liao #ling #wendy #wendy_cauldrison #medea #medea_cauldrison #wally_peskon #wally #original character #ocs #reference

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meta-squash · 5 years

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Intro to the Manic Street Preachers

(In which I wish I still had photoshop so I could make one of those silly slideshow type posts)

It’s come up in at least 3 separate conversations recently that I (or someone) should make an “intro to/how to get into the Manic Street Preachers,” so I’m gonna do that.

Also I tried to be brief but when it comes to the Manics and also writing in general that is not in my nature.

So here goes, a Manics 101 that is slightly longer than I anticipated but not as long as I might have made it:

First of all, a brief Manics history/bandmembers 101:

James Dean Bradfield - Lead singer, lead guitarist. Writes most of the music for the songs. Also has the job of cutting down the lyrics into something he can actually sing.

Nicky Wire - Lyricist, bassist. Writes the lyrics for the songs, with Richey and alone. Says he can’t play bass but is actually quite good. Loves to wear dresses/skirts onstage and is generally a fashion disaster. Has a big mouth and loves to criticize other bands. Has OCD and loves to clean. Is 6′3″ and has great legs and loves to mention both of those things.

Sean Moore - Drummer. Also writes some of the music. Is the only Manic who is classically trained, and sometimes plays trumpet on tracks. Sarcastic and small. Generally quiet and doesn’t like interviews. Is the only Manic actually active on social media (Twitter).

Richey Edwards - Lyricist, rhythm guitarist. Wrote most of the lyrics with Nicky and was essentially the band’s spokesman. Was extremely intelligent. Couldn’t play guitar well, basically stuck to power chords and usually forgot them anyway. Struggled with severe mental illness and addiction. Disappeared in 1995; his body was never found.

The band have all known each other since they were children and all lived in the same neighborhood. The band itself started basically in about 1989. Their thematic mantra was “culture, alienation, boredom and despair.” They were inspired by The Clash, Situationism, the Miners Strike and the various existentialist or absurdist literature they’d read. Their sound and style have changed pretty much every album. They’ve never managed to break into the American music scene but they are/were popular in Asia and Europe. Most of their songs are political or emotional, and rarely talk about love or relationships in the traditional sense. They didn’t go aboveground until 1996 and didn’t get a number one in the charts until 1998.

Where to start:

The Manics have changed their sound/style a lot, so it sometimes depends on what you like.

The bands most popular/charted songs are: Motorcycle Emptiness (1992) Faster (1994) A Design For Life (1996) If You Tolerate This Then Your Children Will Be Next (1998) Your Love Alone Is Not Enough (2007) Rewind The Film (2013) Walk Me To The Bridge (2014) International Blue (2018)

But, like I said, it depends on what you like. So, here’s a rundown of suggestions for songs to listen to in order to get into them. I’ll link the song itself, give a little description of the album/song style or sound, themes, etc. Possibly some extra info if I think of any. And probably reasons why it’s a good introductory song. I’ll go chronologically, but feel free to pick and choose.

Motorcycle Emptiness - 1992. Generation Terrorists. An epic glam/punk rock anthem critiquing and despairing over the nature of society and modern culture. The band has said that if this song wasn’t included on the album, it would not have been successful. It’s also one of the coolest guitar songs the band has. This is often a starting song for most people.

Slash N Burn - 1992. Generation Terrorists. A much more punk rock song, a critique of the destructive nature of entertainment and “first world” culture, how entertainment means people ignore the ills of the world. This song is a good intro to their more social/political lyrics, and good for those who like the punk sound.

Bored Out Of My Mind - 1992. Generation Terrorists B-side. I’m including this because it was the first b-side I fell in love with. This is an acoustic piece, a lot more yearning and, well, tired/bored. It basically takes a punk riff and slows it down into something a lot prettier.

Roses In The Hospital - 1993. Gold Against The Soul. This is the song that made me fall in love with the band. It’s a critique of the mental health system, and a song about unhealthy coping mechanisms. This album has more of a grunge-feel to it, and is a lot more produced. The song features stair-stepping power chords and a grunge rhythm section with pop flair.

La Tristesse Durera - 1993. Gold Against The Soul. A grunge-style song about the way elderly veterans are (mis)treated and/or ignored by the general public once they no longer serve a purpose. This song has an excellent bassline and some great vocals.

Faster - 1994. The Holy Bible. This is the song the band itself and most fans hail as their masterpiece. An industrial/punk/hard rock song that has been described by James as “a set of sarcastic commandments for the modern age” and by Richey as being about self-abuse and “society speeding up - finds worth is failure.” It is a song that is utterly autonomous and judgemental, an Ubermensch of a song that is extremely powerful. It is, in the words of Simon Price “warped metal and tungsten under unendurable torque.”

This Is Yesterday - 1994. The Holy Bible. The calmest song on the album, this piece is a nostalgic look at the past. I’m mostly including it because the guitar riffs are simple but very pretty. (And because my roommate, who isn’t a fan, said she likes it a lot.)

ifwhiteamericatoldthetruthforonedayitsworldwouldfallapart - 1994. The Holy Bible. A fast-paced criticism of racism in the US and UK, filled with political and historical references. An industrial/post-punk style song with some excellent riffs and even better harmonies.

A Design For Life - 1996. Everything Must Go. An anthem for the working class. This song features strings and is a lot more “epic” than previous songs. The album itself is calmer, more radio-friendly. This was the band’s first big hit and the first album after Richey’s disappearance; it reached number 2 on the charts at its release.

Everything Must Go - 1996. Everything Must Go. A song ushering in a change in the band’s sound. It is the introduction of a larger, wider wall of sound, and the anthemic rock style of the album.

Small Black Flowers That Grow In The Sky - 1996. Everything Must Go. A song written by Richey before his disappearance, about the abuse of zoo animals. (In my opinion) The demo is better than the studio version, as it is a yearning acoustic piece that allows the guitar to echo the fragility of the lyrics. (The studio version has a harp that overshadows both guitar and lyrics, so I linked the demo which is my favorite.)

You Stole The Sun From My Heart - 1998. This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours. Lovely lyrics and a simple riff. This album has a cleaner, clearer sound. This song’s sound is optimistic even if the lyrics are slightly sadder.

I’m Not Working - 1998. This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours. A much slower, sadder song. I include this song because I think the lyrics describe a universal feeling. It’s a song that really shows the emotion of James’ vocals.

If You Tolerate This Then Your Children Will Be Next - 1998. This Is My Truth Tell Me Yours. The band’s first ever #1 single. This is an anti-fascist song about the Spanish Civil War, warning people to be aware of injustices. It’s anthemic and full of echoing guitars.

Intravenous Agnostic - 2001. Know Your Enemy. A return to their old punk sound. This is a slightly more anthemic take on the punk sound, but it works. The lyrics are weird but interesting.

Baby Elian - 2001. Know Your Enemy. A political song about Elian Gonzalez, a Cuban refugee who, as a 7 year old, was the center of an immigration and international custody battle between the US and Cuba.

Freedom Of Speech Won’t Feed My Children - 2001. Know Your Enemy. Another political song. I just love it because it’s SO anti-American.

Judge Yr’self - 2003 (1994). Lipstick Traces. This is from an anthology album, but it was an unreleased song recorded in 1994. Its lyrics are almost Nietszchean, intense and repetitive. Yet another huge hit with most fans, with themes and sound similar to Faster. An excellent if momentary resurfacing of their industrial sound of THB.

Empty Souls - 2004. Lifeblood. This album is more more digital-sounding, a lot more glacial than previous albums. The song is sad and aching, but very beautiful. It features a gorgeous piano riff and lingering guitar chords to complement the lyrics about loneliness.

Your Love Alone Is Not Enough - 2007. Send Away The Tigers. Their biggest hit since Tolerate. It’s a duet with Nina Persson, the lyrics a conversation between two people about what makes someone gain contentment and what does/doesn’t help. This is much more a radio-friendly rock song.

Anorexic Rodin - 2007. Send Away The Tigers B-side. Another favorite b-side and favorite among fans. The lyrics are clearly about Richey Edwards, but the best thing about the song is the fast-paced marching of the distortion guitar and the badass punk rock chorus.

Imperial Bodybags - 2007. Send Away The Tigers. This song is incredibly late 60s/early 70s-feeling, for some reason. An excellent grooving riff drives a song about war and imperialism and how civilian deaths are trivialized.

Peeled Apples - 2009. Journal For Plague Lovers. First track on the album and an intense, sludgy punk intro. The band has said that the lyrics of this song are pretty impenetrable but the visuals they provide are fantastic. One of my favorites, and so much weird, aggressive, wild energy. This album consists entirely of songs Richey gave to the band just before his disappearance. Because of this, the album’s sound kind of combines the sounds of The Holy Bible with the slower, prettier sounds that the band developed over the years.

This Joke Sport Severed - 2009. Journal For Plague Lovers. A short, stark acoustic song about the failure of love and one’s own inadequacy. This song is gentle and simple, with yearning vocals and lovely chords.

All Is Vanity - 2009. Journal For Plague Lovers. A song closer to the post-punk sound of The Holy Bible. A lilting riff that disintegrates into a much harder sound complements the lyrics that illustrate a conflicted idea of the self and a desire for answers.

Postcards From A Young Man - 2010. Postcards From A Young Man. This song returns to the huge, anthemic sound of Everything Must Go. The drumming/guitar is a lot “bouncier” than most Manics songs, but the tune itself has some really interesting turns. The lyrics look back on the past, lamenting losses but refusing to be brought down by them.

Some Kind Of Nothingness - 2010. Postcards From A Young Man. Another anthemic song that incorporates strings/a choir, this song is another nostalgia trip, this time a bittersweet mourning, an acceptance of grief and the ache of memories. It features guest vocals by Echo & The Bunnymen’s Ian McCulloch.

Red Rubber - 2010. Postcards From A Young Man B-side. This is a surprise bop. A song about Leopold II’s violent colonization of central Africa (and takes the title from a documentary of the same name), it features synthesizer sounds and distortion guitar. It starts out sound slow and meandering, but suddenly picks up to a frenzied punk pace. The chorus is catchy as hell and angry as hell.

Rewind The Film - 2013. Rewind The Film. This album is almost entirely acoustic. The song itself features Richard Hawley (although I personally like the demo version with Nicky Wire on the vocals) and emphasizes its simplicity with acoustic guitar and simple piano and strings parts. This is yet another nostalgia song, wishing to re-experience happy memories. This one is not as grief-stricken as the other ones, and instead almost seems like a haze-tinged daydream.

As Holy As The Soil (That Buries Your Skin) - 2013. Rewind The Film. A Nicky Wire vocal, this is a song specifically written to/for Richey Edwards. An acoustic piece that features a beautiful trumpet solo from Sean, this song also grieves for the past and remembers good times. But this time it asks for those who are being grieved to return, and reminds them of how much the narrator (Nicky) loves them. This is a song that is so emotional it hurts to listen to but it’s also impossible to stop listening to it.

30 Year War - 2013. Rewind The Film. A departure from the nostalgia-trip of the last few songs, this song talks about the history of Wales and the government war on the working class during the 80s. It also features some lovely trumpet work from Sean and a really cool clapping-style drum beat. The lyrics describe class-related struggles and accuse the rich and the bourgeoisie of using propaganda to blame the poor/working class for their situation and to keep them from rising up in resistance.

Walk Me To The Bridge - 2014. Futurology. This album is a transition into prog rock/krautrock. This song features a heavy marching bassline and synthesizers, a huge glacial sound that opens up into a chorus with shining chords. Nicky says it’s about “the idea of bridges allowing you an out of body experience as you leave and arrive in different places,” but the demo also contains a number of Richey-specific references so who knows.

Sex Power Love And Money - 2014. Futurology. The power of this song mostly rides on power chords that structure it and the almost metallic-sounding synth and drums. The song itself is so fun it’s almost silly, a critique of technology and the entertainment industry that simultaneously takes itself seriously and takes the piss. It is a criticism of the entertainment industry and the way that capitalism erases originality and organic-ness. But it’s also just a fun musical romp that is almost reminiscent of late 90s/early 2000s Bowie.

Futurology - 2014. Futurology. This is a gentler song that fuses the huge glacial sound with something more sunny. The band describe the lyrics as “a statement of existential socialism – belief that humanity is still a viable ideal.” The lyrics and the guitar are optimistic and big, with a nice bass riff supporting the synth sounds behind it.

International Blue - 2018. Resistance Is Futile. A gorgeous, soaring song. Jumps off the back of Futurology’s proggy sound but adds more body. The song itself is about painter Yves Klein and his creation of the color Yves Klein Blue.

Broken Algorithms - 2018. Resistance Is Futile. Returning to their punk roots in terms of the rhythm section and crunchy guitar chords. A song also returning to Nicky’s perpetual subject: the critique of society’s thoughtless dependence on technology/social media and the consequences it can have on social awareness and creativity and the self.

#manic street preachers #manics #old repost #music meta #manic street preachers meta #intro to the manics #this is old as hell but i added rif to the end #and if there's a new album released next year maybe i'll add to this like i added withdrawn traces to the book review post #tbqh i only listen to like half the rif album on a regular basis oops

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lorewytch · 5 years

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A 80′s Gushing Rant

Sorry I just spammed everyone with 80s cartoons XD (Well.. sorry, not sorry?) As a child born in the 80s, I have a special attachment to these cartoons. I mean doesn’t everyone? Nostalgia sells for a reason after all. We all at least have one fond memory of one cartoon or TV show or book that touched us. I was born a only child so often I only could play with myself. I was shy and much different than my other classmates. I was awkward a lot and often did my own thing. But one thing I loved was my parents giving me VHS’ to play which I would watch over and over until the tapes warped. I had many favorites over the years. And the 80s and early 90s were a peek time for several different companies to open their doors and unleash a barrage of toys, videos and books at young kids. I of course loved the popular shows. Shows like TMNT, Tiny Toons, Care Bears, My Little Pony, etc. I had a special spot in my heart for them all. But there were a few that were widely unknown. Most of these were popular but only really had one animated episode created. I kinda just wanted to gush about them a bit. Because these were underrated and I felt needed more recognition. A few of these did have a few episodes out on VHS but most only had one or two episodes. Some you may recognize, some not. Granted I didn’t watch everything that aired in the late 80s and early 90s. But these are some I just remembered.

Rose Petal Place

This one had only one episode, several dolls and apparently a board game XD. Rose Petal Place was about a group of flowers. They were given life when a little girl cried over them, wishing to stay with her flower garden forever. But the family was forced to move and she had to leave her poor garden behind. The magic behind those tears transformed the flowers into real magical beings whose sole duty it was to protect the garden per the young girls wishes. Rose’s voice is the only thing that can keep the flowers blooming in the garden. Her singing brings life back and her spunky and upbeat personality kept me intrigued as a child. I loved girl heroes fighting bad guys as a child. It inspired me and showed me I could be as strong as her. Rose never backed down even when her voice was stolen from her by Nastina the classic spider villain in the series. She still tried to sing even without her voice. One of the very first lines we hear from Rose Petal perfectly defines what kind of character she is. Nastina: Rose Petal. You think you can restore the rose garden with your singing? Rose Petal: You know I can. (hands on hips) She was pretty classy too for a cartoon character. I loved her voice and singing was very on point. The episode itself was rather cliche and dated by todays standards. But the voice acting I felt was mostly on point. It did struggle a bit, but it kept it entertaining even as I watched it a few months ago. Sadly it didn’t really define the characters all that well. But I think given the chance it could have been a nice series. Maybe even with more colorful villains. It was very similar to Strawberry Shortcake and Rainbow Brite. I think also with the limited setting and semi unbelievable background story was probably a few of the reasons it didn’t do so well. However, the character designs were pretty cute and I loved the creative concept. “Friends, would you like to be friends? Would you like to share the day with me? We can be anything we want to be!” -Rose Petal Pound Puppies (1980s)

Okay this one is a bit more popular than the others on this list. But honestly, I forgot about it until recently. The series itself is nice, but the one thing I remembered most about it was the movie.

I think the best part of it was the music. While some songs were meh, Songs like “All In your Mind” and “At the Pound” were pretty good and I found myself singing along. Also it was pretty dark for a kids movie. If you really think about it, the villain was creepy and him turning those puppies into those vicious dogs reminded me a bit of dog fighting and how people turned dogs into killing machines. Plus the background design on these were pretty impressive as well. At least for me anyways. This is really all subjective anyways. But I liked the concept. Who wouldn’t love singing Dogs and cats going on adventures? XD But I feel like a lot of that vanished in the TV series. I got to say I don’t remember the TV series that well. And while it was popular, I think if you think of the 80s cartoons, this one takes a while to come up. It’s not forgotten totally but its not one of the first ones you remember. I certainly didn’t. I remembered the movie more than the TV show. But I also think it was a important show/movie. Because it was the show to bring more awareness about Pounds and shelters. Adopting kitties and dogs from shelters seems common now. But it wasn’t so back then. And a lot of animals were treated very badly at these places. I feel like this had more promise. And I’ll always remember Cooler and his gang from back then. The voice acting was meh most of the time. But some of the characters were pretty interesting and I loved the movie. Also, can I say I love the whole 50s/60′s theme they got going on?! Poodle skirts! YES!

Lady Lovely Locks

Okay for this one, I only remember two episodes in particular off the top of my head. The Dragon Tree, which I loved because of the creative way dragons were born in this world. (Born from flowers the dragon tree bore) and the cute little baby dragons that emerged from them. Plus you got to see Lady Lovely Locks in black of all colors. The second episode being the first one. We get to see first hand at how Lady Lovely Locks can make her kingdom beautiful. Its literally in her hair. Magical girl hair. She was also rocking colored hair before it was popular. The voice acting can be cringe worthy and there’s not much music in this series, which is probably why it never got SUPER popular. It was semi known enough. Again, not one of the first ones I would think of. But I loved the character designs. I think in the 80s there were a lot of creative people wanting to create new and prettier dolls that stood out in one way or another to sell the toys to girls. But the world itself was very creative too and I appreciated that. So yeah the writing and stories kind of fell flat, especially by today’s standards.

But it was a series that doesn’t get nearly enough credit. It was one of the first American magical girls we had really. Lady Lovely Locks was a lady true to every word and not afraid to get her hands dirty to stop Ravenwaves. Also those Pixie Tails were so cute! Peppermint Rose

“Listen... to the legend... of Peppermint Rose...” Can I just say how much love I have to this lesser known cartoon girl? Okay, I admit, this girl at the beginning of her one episode debut was a bit of a brat. Hey they even admit it in the cartoon! Rose is the typical spoiled teen. She has a bit of a attitude problem and is more the hesitant hero than anything. But she has personality!

The writing on this episode is some of the better writing I feel on this list. Not to mention the music in this animated episode was pretty, flowery and I fell in love with many of the lyrics. Here’s the title song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bEy536JeVEc “ Sunshine, Rainbows A breeze that gently blows A garden filled with magic The home of Peppermint Rose Daydreams, Laughter A sweet and Fragrant Glow As Four enchanted Maidens Help their gardens grow. There’s lemon Drop Lily So pretty and frilly Miss Vanilla Daisy Kind of Cute And kind of crazy And Dreaming ‘neath a sky of blue Merry Mint Violet dreams here too Someone Special And so the story goes A rose whose a rose Who’s much more than a rose And we call her Peppermint Rose Listen to the Legend Of Peppermint Rose..” Yeah no I had that stuck in my head for weeks.. couldn’t get it out. Despite Rose’s sour personality, she manages to cross a dangerous river, out wit the Bubba Beetle and magically sing the evil Queen turning her good as well as her henchmen because.. y’know...magic! XDDD The ending did seem rushed and the bad guys were very typical bad guys of the time. But I loved that Rose had a lot of negative traits. It goes to show people can change and her transformation into Peppermint Rose only proved that she could be stronger, braver and kinder. I admit the story does not age well. But I loved the music and character designs of them all. The story was also very cute. This was a decent cartoon for the time honestly and I was sad that there was only one episode of this. It had potential to be more. Again, another one like Rainbow Brite. “What’s that Smell?” “Begonia!”

Now I didn’t put Strawberry Shortcake, Rainbow Brite, Jem and the Holograms or any of the other more popular 80s cartoons here because while I did love them to death.. this list is for lesser known cartoons that others may not be familiar with. Granted the 80s and 90s were quite the decades themselves with a ton of cartoons. Both good and ehhh. But these always stuck out to me as a kid. Yes, I was a very girly girl. Still am in a few aspects. But each of these had something I appreciated and carried with me. And all had really cool designs for characters. I just wanted to show how much I appreciated them even as a adult. Even if they are dated and slightly cringe worthy today. I just appreciated the magic they brought with them, the music and the characters. I would love to see great remakes of any one of these. (The new pound puppies is kind of meh to me honestly) But I’d also love a great revival of Rainbow Brite and Jem and the Holograms too. Sorry this got so long. Whew... I think I will wrap this up. If I think of any more I may post something separate. Now remember, keep singing to bring life to those around you, never lose your bone of scone, let down your hair and let it shine and remember this beyond all else: A rose, whose a rose, who’s much more than a rose... And we call her.. Peppermint Rose.

#80s #Peppermint Rose #Pound Puppies #Rose petal Place #Lady Lovely Locks #lesser known cartoons #my childhood #I loved these #SO MUCH NOSTALGIA!

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chopper-witch · 5 years

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AWOMOD: A Touch of the Past (CH 9)

Characters: Loki x Ashira; TV GoT version characters of Dorne but it’s my version of that version.

Warnings: angst, nightmares,

Locations: her ship, TV GoT version of Dorne but it’s my version of that version; a place that is basically my version of Jakku.

Word count: 8,000+

Summary:Memories Ashira forced herself to forget (though she remembers everyday) are dragged from the depths when she realizes just how much Loki means to her.

A/N: I am so sorry for taking so long,,, It’s been a long few months. This feels longer to me than it is. Also, the dress she wears is basically Daenerys’ Qarth dress (this). Sorry for any mistakes,,, its been a thing.

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The sun on Dorne never seems to fail cheering her up. Something about the way it shines, she supposes, always makes it feel nicer than it is. Maybe it’s because it’s where Ares isn’t. It is an adversarial planet to her home after all, and, despite that, she can roam freely around. They will never turn her over; Dorne doesn’t want Ares to have the satisfaction of anything. The ex-princess of Ares was essentially granted amnesty as soon as she escaped Hala. They even contacted her.

And she had gladly accepted. She needed somewhere to go and to be honest, if they were intending to kill her or use her in an attempt to create a fake peace of some form, she was so close to death that she didn’t care. Anything would be better than what she just escaped.

They hadn’t tried to use her for anything. In fact, they genuinely wanted to help her. So for a few years after she escaped she spent most of her time in Dorne, adjusting their technology to match Ares or beat Ares’ detection.

But it just wasn’t home.

“So where are we?” Loki asks.

While he almost always wears the same thing with only mild moderation, she is yet again in another outfit. But this one is a bit of a shock: she’s wearing a dress. With her normal boots on, but a dress nonetheless. Made of a pale blue, shimmering, flowing fabric, and gold stripes periodically dusting the the fibers, it fits perfectly. The curls of her hair flows over her shoulders and down her back to cover where there is a v in the dress. The silver of the locks braided contrast the gold metal work that is covering her shoulders, also found in the large gold metal work belt cinching her waist. Little baubles hang off each side of her waist; they even jangle a little as the wind blows past them. The neckline matches the back, plunging between her chest and easily exposing more cleavage than anything else he has ever seen her in.

Something slightly peeking out from the top of the low neckline, discoloration of her skin. A pure white patch just barely hidden…

Her hair also seems different. Braids, like always, but this time there are a few pins in it, all with smalls gems in them of the same shade of blue.

“Dorne. Come on.”

He’s never heard of it before. Then again, there is a lot he hasn’t heard of before that Ashira has guided him to. Asgardian education really let him down.

Loki shoves his hands in his pockets. “Should I change? You look much nicer than I thought I’d ever see you.”

Ashira scowls. “I can look nice, asshole. I just don’t normally wear dresses.”

“Sorry…” Loki trails off. His intent wasn’t to insult, but rather compliment. “I just meant, it looks nice on you…”

A glint of dark blue catches his eye. Around her neck is a simple pendant necklace. The blue in the center, which rests perfectly in the center of her sternum, seems anything but ordinary. There is a glow that yanks his mind towards it. It’s beautiful… alluring… mesmerizing…

“Loki, hey, Loki!” Ashira snaps her fingers in front of him.

He snaps his eyes up. “Yes?”

“Brain is up here.” She points towards her head. “That’s definitely my best feature so if you want to stare at anything let it be that.”

Loki laughs at that, forcing his eyes back to her grinning face. “But if your face is your worst….?”

“Still look there.” She chuckles, pulling at his left arm. “Come on, Loki. I’m not going to sit here the whole time when we are in one of the nicest places in the universe.”

When they exit the ship Loki hops back in. They are not in an open field or a secluded forest. Instead the first thing he sees as he walks out is several pathways followed by several other landed ships followed by the realization that they are landed in an area very clearly in an area designated for the government of this… Dorne.

Banners and flags are set up all around the area with a red sun proud in the center of the dusty orange fabric, a single golden spear running straight through it. Even from the glance of the landing area he got, he can tell there is one painted beneath them.

Ashira is already thirty steps ahead of him, however.

Unsure of whether she is being foolishly stupid or not, he opts catches up with her. Better to be with her and help her get out than leave her alone and end up both detained or killed.

“So why are we just walking around so casually?” Loki asks once beside her.

“Major enemy of Ares. They don’t want Ares to get me back and Ares has no access to this planet so they can’t tell if I am here or not.” Ashira slows her steps as they approach the arched entrance of the Water Gardens. “Plus I fixed a lot of their tech so Ares can’t touch them for the most part. I come here only occasionally though. It’s pretty.”

Loki continues to walk forward and even passes her when they finally reach the entrance of the Water Gardens. “I’ll agree with you on that.”

A quiet snort is released as she watches Loki look around in awe.

Every color Loki could ever imagine (and then some) in every plant; shimmers and glimmers like he never thought possible on a plant of all things; birds that appear to be hummingbirds but vibrant pinks and blues and purples instead of a more toned down blue or brown or shimmering green (though that does make sense, evolutionarily); and row upon row of infinity pools filled with the most fantastic water features, plants and fish.

And he thought Asgard has the most amazing gardens.

“Enjoying yourself?” Ashira teases.

Loki happily scoffs. “This is amazing... I’ve never seen any place prettier.”

“It only gets more beautiful.��

It remains a silent walk. Loki is far too distracted by everything to make conversation. Ashira opts to just silently move beside him and continually playfully tapping some of the more active plants, hands gliding through every little pond and basin of water.

Then, about ten minutes into the walk, a set of 9 guards marching come around the corner. Clad from head to toe in something eerily similar to what she wore when they landed on, but with more loose and colorful fabrics. The guards are large as well, larger than him in every respect.

Loki expects Ashira to either tense up or even try to find an alternate route. Instead of tensing, she simply pauses her steps and smiles.

She even stands a little straighter. Not in challenge though… respect.

“Ashira, the King awaits,” the singular unmasked guard at the head of the group announces.

Ashira nods. “Thank you.”

Her steps pull her forward, then immediately back again. At least half have weapons pointed at Loki that she hadn’t originally noticed. Those that don’t are gripping the hilt of their swords anxiously.

The guard peers past Ashira. “Who is your friend?”

Ashira glances over to Loki. There is a soft smile on her face, no malice or suspicion for once. “He can be trusted. He was outcasted from Asgard.”

“Asgard?” The guard looks him over. Loki feels exposed. Sure he was singled out on Asgard for various reasons but never treated like a hostile threat being brought on trial. “Then he is welcome as well.” All the guards immediately return to a neutral position resulting in Loki letting go of the breathe trapped in his lungs. “Come.”

All guards turn a perfect 180 in sync to begin their walk towards the palace.

Loki leans down to whisper to Ashira. “So... what is happening?”

“The King meets with me once a year to thank me.” It’s at a normal tone instead of the whisper he desired.

“Oh.”

Ashira chuckles. “That’s why I am dressed like this.” Her hands gesture down her body. “For respect of their traditions.”

Loki hums. Respecting traditions doesn’t really seem her style. “And the necklace? A gift from him?”

“No!” She rushes to reply. Loki immediately whips his head to more closely examine her. No one replies that quickly about a necklace. “It was.” She swallows hard. Loki notices. “It was a gift from someone else. A...” she exhales slowly. “... a friend.”

Loki leaves it at that.

The palace is entirely open from what he can tell, built of a red clay with no real doors or windows, just open arches on every level. In fact, Loki hadn’t even noticed they were entering a building until the sun grew dim as they turned right down a hall.

At the end of said hall sits a man who appears to be at least half way through his life, as Loki does not know how these people age.

And the chair… has wheels?

Loki recalls reading about some form of chair with wheels that helps those who cannot walk, but Asgard never even had them as far as he is aware. It’s a bizarre sight to see and even more bizarre to see a monarch in one.

“Ashira!” The King shouts, extending his arms out to her. She leans into them, awkwardly balanced on her toes as they embrace. It’s not very long but the man is definitely happy with it. “And who is this?” He gestures behind Ashira.

Ashira simply places her right hand on his left forearm as reassurance that Loki is not an enemy. She pauses though, taking a moment to look back at Loki.

His face is entirely neutral and mostly focused on her (not on the king like he was trained). The pair shares a brief smile before Ashira turns her head slowly towards the king again.

“A friend.”

Doran raises his right brow skeptically. Ashira has never brought anyone with her on her trips back to Dorne. Not even Selene. “A… friend. Alright. Well, everyone is here today.”

Ashira yanks her head back in shock. “Your brother is here?”

“He is.” Doran nods. “As are all his children.”

“Is there a special occasion?”

“I wish. He is never here when those occur. Let’s go before he decides to leave again.”

A guard aids in wheeling the king around. While they wait Ashira realizes her left hand is still rested on Loki’s forearm. The prince seems not to even mind her instinctively protective touch that has turned into a comically long lingering hold.

Embarrassed, Ashira tugs her hand away hastily before slowing her movements once a few inches away to reduce the visibility of her movement. Loki notices regardless.

As the group starts to walk, Loki leans towards Ashira, again.

“So who is all here?”

“The king, his daughter and two sons, the king’s younger brother and his eight daughters are all here today, as well as the prince’s lover.”

Loki furrows his brows. A lover invited to a formal gathering? “His lover?”

“Yeah, she is the mother of four of his children.”

Oh. “So they are not legitimate?”

“Every child is legitimate, but they aren’t in line for the throne. Any of them, technically. Four have the same mother, but the other four all have different mothers.”

“What?”

Ashira looks up at him confused. “What?”

Loki hums. “That would never be allowed on Asgard. Unmarried is one thing but five mothers for eight children?”

“Marriage is immensely rare on Ares.” So are unplanned kids. Or, kids at all. “So it happens. Think of Dorne like an in-between.”

And then they enter the room.

Well, it’s more like a courtyard, Loki figures, seeing as each side as covered pathways but the inner part is entirely roofless, giving way for the bright, searing sun to light the semi-bricked yard. A large wooden table is set in the center, with trees and bushes surrounding it and a water fountain proudly on the other side from them.

The people - hel the people - are dressed everywhere from close to what Ashira is donning to sandy toned clothing that is barely covering anything. Then there is the sheer chaos of the situation. Even the older of the people seem to be running around and play fighting, one girl using a whip to pull who appears to be her older sister back to her.

This is a royal gathering? It feels informal. He would be chastised for not sitting properly, forget wrestling his brother to the ground.

“Come on,” Ashira whispers at Loki’s stoic and shocked form.

There are three seats towards the end of the table near the side they are on where there are no indicators of being pre-occupied. Well, four, if you count the empty spot where a Queen would presumably sit, as well as two on one side and one on the other.

Loki goes opposite Ashira as she chooses to sit where there are two spaces. He almost followed to sit beside her. His upbringing kicked in and overruled him, reminding him that he ought to sit opposite her.

So he reluctantly sits across, sliding into the chair at the very end of the right side from the King’s view. Ashira offers an almost sympathetic smile.

Barely a minute after Loki and Ashira sit down, the rest begin to follow. The once empty seat beside Ashira is soon filled by a woman who makes a show of staring another guest down before tossing her spear to stick perfectly in the center of the planter behind said guest.

“Still don’t see why you should get to go first,” the other guest, another woman in similar clothes practically whines.

“Because I am both older and better.” She raises her brow before sitting very uncordially down.

Someone slides in besides Loki, as he expected, so he does not pay much attention. His mind is more focused on trying to generally identify most of the people as everyone begins to seat themselves not wanting to insult anyone. He has learned that it does not matter whether or not you’ve been introduced or told the title of someone, it’s better not to disrespect them.

“Nym, no weapons at the table, you know that,” an older woman a few spots down and across from who Loki has identified as the younger brother of the king, whispers angrily.

The way the girl reluctantly slides the whip beneath the table to her feet reminds him much the many, many times his brother had to be reminded Mjolnir was not allowed at the table and opted to just slide the weapon out of sight.

Loki cannot help but zone out. He’s been through too many events like this in his lifetime. The king will make an announcement thanking everyone, the food will be brought out, people will eat. Conversation will commence.

And that’s exactly what happens. The only factor throwing Loki off is Ashira. She is just sitting there across from them in clothes that just don’t seem to fit her quite right. She doesn’t seem like a roam around in a flow dress type. Yet she is conversing as if this is niche, this is where she really flourishes. From what he knows these sorts of meals were not common on Ares. Somehow she makes it look like she’s been through it for centuries like he has.

As he continues to eat mindlessly (the food is amazingly flavored but immensely repetitive, though he can't really blame them for being in a desert planet), his eyes can’t help but switching between the necklace and the plastic like spot on her chest, even if his mind is elsewhere. Something about both just seem unnatural in ways he can’t quite describe and now that he is sat directly across from her he has the opportunity to just look.

The pendant seems to be alive. The blue pulses not randomly, but controlled and consistently, like a heart beat almost. But it also seems to react to Ashira as she laughs and talks as if it is trying to respond as well. The shades even swirl around like it is thinking a couple of times.

The spot is less and more odd. It is not like her other scars that seem to have naturally stitched back together with the surrounding skin; it also doesn’t look like something just pasted on either. Add the strangeness that the patch appears to be most of her left chest, meaning her heart was somehow impacted as well.

At least that is what he assumes.

“What do you think, Loki?”

He is shaken out of his mindless staring. “Pardon me?”

“I was wondering what you think of the trade disputes due to the new found mine of gravitonium?” it’s the king’s brother.

Loki shifts slightly. “I don’t think I have enough knowledge to be qualified to answer that.”

Oberon nods satisfied. “A reasonable answer. I wish that’s how the rest of the Westeros system would respond instead of interrupting our intervention. That reminds me…”

He looks back to Ashira for assurance he responded correctly to her to see her smiling over at Loki widely, hiding her face partially behind the glass of wine in her hand. A smile pulls at his lips as well.

The King watches the entire table carefully, including his guest and her friend. He notes the lingering smiles between the two causing himself to get slightly distracted when his brother asks him a question.

One of the others, Loki assumes the lover of the king’s younger brother, soon says something that pulls Ashira’s attention to way. But her head pulls away slowly, her lips answering before actually looking back to the others.

“You are very lucky,” the woman to the left of him whispers.

Nam? Nym? Something like that.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Ashira. She is an amazing warrior and very pretty. Anyone would be lucky to have her.”

“Oh, we’re not —”

The girl cuts him off.

“That’s a shame. I know the older of the two princes has been interested in her since they first met. She isn’t interested but you never know.”

Loki’s brows furrow and he looks down the table again. The prince on his side on the table is indeed staring at Ashira. It isn’t a subtle stare either. It’s a doe-eyed, intense, ceaseless stare that Ashira is either blissfully ignorant of or insanely amazing at ignoring.

“Don’t worry, it would never work out.”

The girl’s words draw him out of the staring he begun at the prince. The difference? Loki’s utensils now were slightly altered in shape; the handles of them now bent back to follow the curve of his hand. He opts to set them down and pick up his glass. Just needs to relax.

“Pardon me?” Loki asks.

“It would never work. We only live for a hundred years at most, she’s almost 5,000 years.”

Loki chokes on his drink at that. She’s as old as his entire lifespan? He really hadn’t thought how old she must be if she is in the Greek Myths. She looks maybe a tad bit older than him, by maybe a few years in terms of relative age. So if he is a fifth through his life, there is a chance she is as well.

Live for 25,000 years? Hel, that’s a long time.

Too long, even.

“You okay Loki?” Ashira asks. Her attention has returned to him at the sound of his coughing. Outwardly she appears generally concerned like any friend would; internally she is genuinely concerned.

He looks down at the red wine refusing to drip off his leather then to her. “Yeah, just drank it wrong.”

“Well, be careful. It’d be a shame for you to die because of some wine of all things.”

The rest of the meal continues similarly - Loki unsure of when he should and shouldn’t talk, Ashira being unusually social and talkative, several of the daughters of the prince (and the prince himself) suggesting things that seem obscene to be discussed at such a supposedly formal setting. Sure, Asgardians talked often about battles and such, but never anything like the poison the girl beside him figured out how to imbue her whip with.

That was currently sat at their feet.

Something he appreciated, but a few others did not.

When it does finally end, some of the people go off in various directions, others remaining in the court-yard to go back to fighting each other.

His attention is removed from the clamor around him when Ashira says his name.

“Loki, we’re going to leave soon. If you want to fight them, do it now.”

“I-I what?” Loki narrows his eyes. “I was observing them.”

She shrugs as she stands. Loki stands as well. “All I’m saying is if you want to rumble before we leave, might as well.”

The king is wheeled down towards their end while Loki walks around the end of the table to meet Ashira.

“I’m assuming you will want some wine again?” Doran asks Ashira.

“I can’t say no. Best alcohol in the entire universe.”

“Well, I’m not sure about that.” The King waves his right hand and two guards move quickly out of the room. “We wish you good fortune and that you will visit again.”

“I will. Don’t worry.” Once again she bends down awkwardly, carefully tipping to hug the ruler. Loki nearly grimaces at her disastrous posture as she does so. “I’ll always come back to visit.”

“Very good. Goodbye until next time.”

“Until next time.”

Ashira then turns to walk back to her ship, skirt billowing out around her. Loki is quick to follow. While this place isn’t threatening (confusing, rather), he doesn’t wish to linger without Ashira. The prince was taught better than to intrude.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t get more than a few paces before his name is called once again.

“And Loki?”

Loki pauses, watching as Ashira continues on as if she didn’t even hear his name being called. Hesitant to completely lose sight of her, Loki opts to look over his shoulder at the older king.

“Yes, your grace?”

“Stay a moment.”

Loki sighs and turns. His royal upbringing is fighting the past few months of adventures. On the one hand, he knows he needs to remain courteous in front of a member of the royal family of this planet (more importantly, the king) and stay as long as the king wants; on the other Ashira’s impatience and specific type of chaos has seeped into him and he has become wary of anyone who is not himself or her.

“What is it that you need?” Loki speaks up.

“Just some advice from an old, dying man.” Loki nods. Seems as though every old, dying man he has met in his life has advice to offer. “Don’t hurt her. She’s been through a lot... she’s hurting a lot, still. We don’t invite her just to thank her, we invite her to make sure she is doing okay. We took her in for a time after she escaped, a time when she was too shaken up to make sense of anything. This is the first time she has seemed happy. Don’t ruin that.”

Loki takes a moment so he can process what was just told him. It’s a lot packed into only a few words.

First, the old, dying man is advising him not to hurt Ashira because she seems happy. Between the king’s insinuation and the girl’s implication, what Loki had begun to consider since the quiet conversation the other night seems more real… or maybe realistic? Two people don’t just say things like that unless the feelings are two-sided.

He also just admitted that it isn’t a yearly thank you, rather a yearly check-up on her. Loki’s been a witness to some of her worst moments of relived panic but for it to be of enough concern that an entire other race checks on her regularly?

That is a little stunning, to say the least.

“I have no plans to,” Loki decides to respond.

“Good. Cause if you do, she has more people behind her than she makes it seem. She could change the universe if she wanted.”

Loki smiles at that. “Trust me, I know.”

Loki finds Ashira spinning around like a child in the pilot’s seat, outfit changed to plain black leggings and a matching tank top. His eyes inadvertently go immediately to the scars along her neck and arms that she is no longer covering. The day she explained them was the same day she gave him something that healed him when his magic wouldn’t. So he stares almost blankly as he realizes she has scars when she shouldn’t.

“So what did the King want to talk to you about?” She does not stop spinning as she asks.

“Just offering me some advice.” Loki sits in the co-pilot seat.

Ashira nods slowly as she final stops her spinning. Her brain is still off somewhere else as she continues to speak. “So despite being stocked up on alcohol, we are kinda low on everything else. We’ll stop at J’henga tomorrow.”

“Alright.”

Silence blankets the ship for a few minutes, save the sounds of switches being flipped and the engine whispering to life. Ashira has nothing more to say for now; Loki is not sure what to say to her. Yet right before she can finally take them off the ground he speaks again.

“Were you ever going to tell me you live for 25,000 years?”

She pauses. Shit. “Why would it matter?”

Loki shrugs. “Would have been nice to know.”

“Why?” She scoffs and her head turns to face him. “One day you are going to go home…” she shakes her head. “…and if not, realize that I’m not a good person to be around. You’ve seen me and what I do. I bring chaos and even death everywhere I go. One day you will leave me and it will be long before my age actually comes into question.”

Her words end with a sad, nearly in tears tone. She didn’t intend for those words to tumble from her lips. As the anniversary of the day grows near, despite her attempts to ignore it, her mind and body automatically begin to act on their own, forcing her into more unstable and erratic moods.

“Well, I am the God of Mischief,” Loki replies as he works to make sense of what she just said, “sometimes known as of Chaos. I’m not worried.”

“You should be.” She shakes her head and turns away. “You should be.”

With that she pulls them off the ground, leaving Loki to sit quietly in their ascent.

—

The following morning Ashira awakens before him, as always. She pushes herself to a sitting position with ease, her left hand mindlessly reaches to where the pendant of the necklace ought to be. Her hand, however, just touches the strands of hair that decided to stick to her chest as she slept.

The necklace is gone.

Her heart practically skyrockets past the walls of the ship.

She knows she didn’t take it off last night when they both finally made it to bed; it was definitely still secure around her, the metal clasp going absolutely nowhere. It had to be, she remembers seeing the reflection of its glow as she fell asleep.

In her panic Ashira nearly falls off of the window seat.

Thankfully she stops herself before she can full tumble off.

First, her eyes search where she was sleeping while her hands fervently shake out her hair and shirt.

No necklace.

Then a quick search of the floor around her is done.

No necklace.

There is no way it could have gone far.

Right as she turns to go downstairs to see if it could have possibly fallen off down there, she catches sight of the blue.

It is hovering along the wall, a little note beside it.

‘Didn’t want it to get tangled with your hair, I hope you don’t mind.’

Ashira snatches it away from the hook. The blue swirls around inside as she grabs it into her hands once again as if to greet her like an excited dog. Similarly relieved, she quickly puts it back on.

The weight is exactly what her anxious self needs. Her fingers on both hands nervously curl and uncurl around it several times.

“Are you alright?”

Loki has barely woken up at the sound of her scrambling.

“Y-Yeah,” Ashira mutters back, turning to face him. “J’Henga is uh, not far out. Maybe 45 minutes? We can land now if you’d like.”

“I mean, we’re up.”

Ashira nods. “Yeah, already up. I’ll be downstairs.”

And her timing is still scarily accurate. 45 minutes after she descends to the cockpit they land and another fifteen later she is standing at the entrance of the ship in white leggings and a loose tan blouse, Loki coming to stand beside her a moment after in a looser, less leather version of his normal clothing. Another desert planet.

“You ready?” He asks.

Loki watches as Ashira nervously grip the necklace.

Ashira turns to him and smiles. “Of course. Always am.”

The trek to the trading post - Ashira made a point of ensuring Loki knew it was not a city or village of any kind - is unusually quick. It is not a one mile or more hike to get close to civilization. Instead, it appears there are tons of ships around them and everyone seems to generally be moving towards the same trading post - some with wagons and actual boats worth of goods, others with nothing. The walk itself is also not long, a half mile at most.

Loki isn’t sure what he expected when he finally gets a clear view of the area. It really is just a bunch of make-shift stands and people randomly scattered once they pass the entrance point. More species than he has ever seen before are selling and trading in one spot to their left, to their right a singular woman with ten animals he has never seen before. The closest thing Loki can compare them to is some form of mangled horse.

“We really just need food, to be honest,” Ashira finally relays to Loki. “Once we are out of this system with the track I’m on we won’t be getting great food any time soon after, so we need to get a lot, actually.”

“Any suggestions then?”

“Not really. Trust your gut, but most of the stuff here is good. To be honest,” Ashira careful side steps a bucket of who knows what, “the food that doesn’t follow any regulations tends to be the best I’ve learned. So don’t be afraid of the gross stuff, your highness.”

“I - I am offended you would think I would be afraid of ‘gross’ stuff,” Loki huffs.

“You are a pretty rules and regulations guy from what I can tell so… yeah. Anyway, c’mon.”

Of course, she’s right. Loki nearly slaps a bag of out of Ashira’s hands as it is passed to her because he swear he saw something moving inside of it that shouldn’t have been. He claimed he is just concerned for her health. She has to remind him that it will be just fine and that she has been here before whereas he has not.

He reluctantly yielded.

Three hours into their market wandering and multiple instances of Ashira casually handing Loki yet another bag and him pretending not to notice that she still is carrying nothing, Ashira notices them nearly done.

“So we’ve got almost everything,” Ashira hums, handing yet another bag to Loki.

“So what’s left, miss ‘I cannot carry my own bags’.”

Ashira tries to stop the absolutely ridiculous grin pulling on her lips at Loki’s remark. “Hey, every king needs to learn to be humbled every so often.” She glances up to him. “Sugar, is what we need. Like candy. Specifically something that is like 100% sugar is preferable.”

“Do you have a sweet tooth I never noticed?”

“Hm, maybe. It’s also good to chase some of the drinks I got from Dorne with candy or mix them. Trust me, it makes the experience much, much better.”

“You would know. A true connoisseur of drinks, I’ve learned.”

With the next step her gut feels like it’s been punched.

It’s the day again.

To be honest, Ashira tries not to keep track.

But she feels it in her gut. The dread, the complete and utter dread fills her system as they walk through market. Her heart is palpitating so painfully; her vision blurring dramatically. Things are spinning in circles, the crowd rolling almost comedically around as she struggles to stay balanced.

Loki immediately notices the change. The runaway has a very distinct pattern of walking through bustling crowds and any change is immediately obvious to him.

So he calls out to her as she stumbles out of arms reach.

Only one grabs Ashira’s attention, however. A person. Someone a bit shorter than Loki pushing through the crowd a few feet in front of her with white hair to his shoulder and a perfectly clean dark silver streak against his left side.

At least it looks that way to her spinning head.

Ashira rushes forward. The crowd is thick but means nothing to her panic mixed with her natural strength. She isn’t paying attention to the narrowed eyes, growls, and Loki’s increasingly concerned shouts to her.

Once she reaches the man, her hands wrap around his wrist. His head whips to look at the sudden intrusion.

“Eros?” Ashira asks hopefully.

Who she grabbed onto, however, is a disgruntled mixed Elf, part light, part lunar with narrowed, angry plain hazel eyes and hair that is actually more of a very light blond with brown streak through it. The man yanks his arm away from Ashira violently. She involuntarily stumbles forward.

Then someone else comes to stand in front of her. Fingers curl around her upper arms and squeezes. She’s too disoriented to even flinch or pull away. Her eyes just stare directly forward for a moment or two. So the person squeezes her arms again. Her brows slowly pull inward; she’s confused as to what is happening. The person squeezes again.

She finally looks up, mind completely dissociating from her surroundings. The face seems familiar, she thinks.

“Are you alright?” Loki wonders.

Ashira furrows her brows. “Loki?” It’s a statement laced with confusion.

“Uh, yeah, it’s me.” Loki puts on a smile to assure her it will be okay. “Let’s get you back to your ship, you don’t look well.”

“Alright...” Ashira looks back to his chest. “Sure.”

Loki practically drags her back to the ship. She is stumbling and struggling to even see as her body falls into a numb panic.

When he finally practically hurls her onto the ship, she instantly dashes up the stairs.

It’s not a smooth run, it’s messy. Loki is staring agape as she falls on her face twice in her scurry.

She’s tearing open her pathetic little chest of clothes in her little window seat. Buried beneath all her clothes, deep within her makeshift bed, are two physical pictures she has kept. The first is her and Selene, centuries ago, laughing on top of their ship after their first successful stealth mission.

But the second?

Her and Eros in front of the new engine they built so ships can be converted mid-flight instead of needing fighter ships attached and risk the main ship getting damaged. Her lips are pressed against his cheek as he grins sappily, the engine acting as a seat. He’s flushed in both excitement and embarrassment: she had just kisses him (albeit only on the cheek) in front of hundreds of people. He was never particularly public.

She hasn’t touched it in ten years.

But to see it doesn’t help. That’s why she stopped looking at - instead of helping her cope it only made her sadder and more angry at herself.

This time she doesn’t burn. There is a numbness inside of her that directs the pain inwards, her organs ripping and shredding instead of her surroundings. It somehow hurts less this way as well. She isn’t sure why.

To her, it’s unclear how long she has been sobbing on the floor, clutching the photo to her chest. It’s been about fifteen minutes.

Loki, having chalked up the incident on her just needing to eat combined with the heat, decided to make her something legitimately edible. Well, as edible as he can make something, especially given the limitations of the ship.

Satisfied, Loki calls out to her. “Hey, Ash, I made you food.”

Ash.

Only one person ever called her that.

And she falls into harder sobs.

“Ashira?” He calls out.

He listens for a response only to hear her crying. It’s a painful, wet, deeply quiet sob.

With a sigh, he walks up stairs.

Ashira rushes to put the photo away; the seat closes right as Loki gets up the stairs.

“Seriously, what’s going on with you?” Loki demands.

“I’m fine.” It’s through a damaged throat still damp with tears.

Loki crosses his arms. “You are literally sobbing while collapsed on the ground."

Ashira hiccups. The hiccup shutters her entire body but she shakes it off, looking up at Loki with a crooked smile. “Like I said, perfectly fine.”

Loki rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

—

When night falls, Loki is no less worried.

She opted to leave as soon as dusk hit (without giving him a reason) and he didn’t push for one. Something is wrong and she is too stubborn to explain.

Due to the overwhelming amount of energy she spent crying (and her body attempting to heal itself), Ashira falls into a calm slumber quickly.

Loki is not so lucky.

He lies awake worried.

What the hell happened today and what the hell happened to mess her up this much?

He spends a few hours mulling it over but knows he will get no answers by just making assumptions in the dead of night.

Eventually he, too, begins to drift off.

—

“Are you excited, ‘Shira?” Selene asks, finishing off the braid she’s spent the past hour on.

Ashira snorts. “Of course. I mean, I’m getting married.”

“And it is going to be a wonderful spectacle.”

“I would hope so.”

Loki, in his half-asleep state, barely registers the sound of Ashira suddenly gasping like she is choking.

Kneeling in the water bed of the waterfall, Ashira chuckles as splashes continuously hit her and Eros in the face. He keeps flinching his silver eyes closed to stop the water from hitting them but he keeps reopening them to look at her. Her grin causes Eros chuckles back, his fingers gripping hers a little harder.

“Now, to make the bond official, you both shall share a kiss to seal your fates together.”

Ashira pushes forward to press her lips against his. She’s crying into it. So is he. It’s a messy kiss, filled with wet tears on their wet faces, a happy giggle leaving both of their lips.

As her lips pull away from him, it’s no longer Eros in front of her, smiling back.

It’s Loki.

“Wh-what?” She gasps.

“What’s wrong, Ash? Did I get something caught in my hair again?”

“Y-you’re not…”

“You’ve got something, on your…”

But then he begins to vanish. First his hands crumble in hers, nothing more than ashes. It quickly spreads up his arms; bit by bit he slowly fades into nothing more than shattered particles, body falling into the water and washing away.

His face is last, still smiling as it does, like nothing is wrong.

A sob passes her lips in both real life and her dream.

Loki practically jumps out of bed.

She turns her head back to look at Selene, tears already blurring her eyes with sorrow and panic. Selene looks just as shocked as Ashira feels. Her face is darkened by sadness combined with fear - fear of repercussions, not fear of her best friend.

“What did you do?” Eros’ father shrieks. “What did you do to my son?”

Ashira, terrified and breathing sporadically looks back to the group of people watching. All eyes are either wide with terror or narrowed with anger.

“I-I… I don’t know,” she sputters out.

Some of the higher officials run up behind Ashira and grab her arms and throw cuffs around them. She’s immobilized as the paralysis injection begins to push through her veins. But it increases the panic in her system, the complete opposite its intention, whatever flowing through her veins fighting off the substance, the poison, attempting to hurt her. She’s too panicked to notice the burning glow on her body, too terrified to feel the heat radiating off of her.

The blanket around her body is practically strangling her.

Loki begins to shake her quickly with his left hand and his right is tugging the blanket from around her. It’s choking her.

“Ashira, Ashira you need to wake up.”

“No! No please, I don’t know what happened, please let me go!” Ashira screeches as multiple officials begin dragging her away. “No!”

Before she is dragged more than a foot, the ones holding her slowly begin to disintegrate too.

There is a burn of purple erupting along Ashira’s skin. She’s heating up and yelling out nonsense. Not only is the purple whatever tearing at her, but she is physically burning up, a sweat beginning to cover her skin.

“Ashira, come on you gotta wake up.” His hand goes to touch her head to see just how hot she is.

He pulls his hand away with a hiss. He remembers that one visit he, his brother and the other four fools his brother calls friends took to Muspelheim and how Volstagg so graciously tripped him so he fell face first into a pile of very, very hot rocks. The whole ship begins rumbling and tearing apart slowly at the seams. The metal begins to glow a heated red around the edges.

She’s going to blow the ship.

In the middle of flying.

“Hey, Ash, wake up!”

It’s only a sense of distraught in him. His heart is skipping beats as he keeps shaking her by touching the extra fabric of her shirt. Her skin is far to warm for her to even be living at this point.

“What the hel is going on?” Loki whispers desperately.

Loki looks around again to see the ceiling ready to fall on them both. So he does what he can to calm and cool her. It’s dangerous, it’s risky and also the only solution he can think of. He hopes he won’t regret what he is about to do.

His skin begins to shift blue.

It’s chaos. People are screaming, shouting, scrambling. Except Selene, who is running towards the girl she was raised with. Selene just wants to pull her friend away before any more drastic action is taken, like being killed on the spot.

Where he touches her he begins to literally sizzle. Despite it hurting like hel and then some, Loki continues to try and cool her down at least marginally.

It seems to a work just a hair; enough that Ashira doesn’t feel like she ought to be a molten puddle on the ground, at least.

Before Selene can dive to Ashira, though, Ashira is blasted nearly unconscious. Her friend turns to see the Queen standing there, Scepter in her hand with at least three mindless Chitauri behind her.

As a taller, terrifyingly imposing person, even one side glance can instill fear. This murderous glare could cause immediate death.

“Have something you need to tell me?”

Selene gulps nervously.

Ashira hears this as she rolls over to look at her mother. Her hands reach out towards her mother, begging for her to help.

She barely spars at glance at her only child as Ashira loses consciousness.

But now she is re-heating up.

“Ashira!” Loki shouts.

The ship stops rattling.

She gasps for air as she sits up suddenly. Her eyes are wide and startled, whole body heaving with each inhale and exhale. She isn’t even looking towards him, just straight ahead. Her heart will not slow at all; there is purple radiating off of her palms and chest still. There is an odd cold touch on her left arm. It feels nice compared to the obscenely warm sweat covering her.

“Ashira?” Loki shifts back to his ivory color and touches her left arm again. It hurts from the scotching heat yet he refuses to let go. He decides to just change his hands and slowly rubs them up and down her forearm. “Normally you say something right after I wake you. Is everything alright?”

She’s grinding her teeth to calm her breath and mind. She doesn’t really know so she doesn’t really want to answer.

On one end, everything is fine. He is there in front of her. And alive.

On the other, this is the first time someone else has appeared in her nightmares.

“This is...” she pauses to slow her breath. It works only to slow her breath a smidge; it is better than nothing. So she turns slowly to look at Loki directly. His eyes are wide with sheer worry and he is desperately attempting to help her relax with his soft touch against her arm. “This is real, right?”

Loki’s brows softly gather together. He’s confused and concerned by her question. It even causes him to drop his hands. She isn’t paying enough attention to the physical sensations around her to notice.

“Why are you asking?”

Ashira wildly shakes her head, hoping her brain will reset. “I’m just being an idiot. I’m sorry.”

Her hands yearn to reach out and touch to confirm he is still there but she is too afraid that if she does they will move right through, or worse, he will vanish entirely.

Or even worse: he will crumble.

“You don’t ask dumb questions for no reason. What’s going on?”

Not even Selene, the girl she was raised with, the girl who has been her best friend for longer than Loki has been alive, has been the victim in her dreams.

She is terrified to admit what is the reason.

I’m scared, she wants to admit. I’m terrified. You were in my dream, I killed you in my dream and I’ve never had a dream like that. I think... I think I might love you.

And that might be more petrifying, horrifying, terrifying than anything else.

Because loving you means killing you.

“IOx-10. Let’s land tomorrow, maybe do some hiking or something?”

Loki smiles. “Whatever you need.”

“Thank you.”

There is no joke. No ‘my liege’, no ‘your highness’.

Simply a thank you.

___

------

Taglist

@tarynkauai @illogicalfangirl

#awomod #loki imagine #loki fic #loki x oc #loki x reader #imagine you are purple #and short #you get it

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themurphyzone · 5 years

Text

Absolutely Disastrous Ch 11

Ch 11: Milo’s First Gym Battle! The Unpredictable Substitute Gym Leader!

Classes ground to a halt whenever a gym battle took place. Every student and teacher in the school gathered in the bleachers surrounding the battlefield. Even a class of six-year-olds from a nearby primary school had come over to watch. Their teacher wasn’t too pleased with the disruption though. She was busy giving Mrs. Murawski, a teacher at the Rustboro School and referee for the gym battle, an earful about the proper times to allow a gym battle so her students could focus on their lessons.

“-YOU TRAINERS, AWFUL AT REMEMBERING THAT MATH AND READING ARE JUST AS VITAL!”

Mrs. Murawski sighed dreamily at the desk she’d carried down herself, ignoring the other teacher completely.

“-STOP FONDLING THAT DESK LEG AND PAY ATTENTION! MY STUDENTS CAN’T EVEN GET THROUGH A SIMPLE BERENSTAIN BEARTIC BOOK CAUSE OF YOU!”

Since the gym battle would be delayed until those two sorted out their drama, Melissa and Lydia took the opportunity to review strategies with Milo, while Zack and Amanda distracted Scott from potentially overhearing them and coming up with a counter.

Supersonic had finally worn off on Zack, but he seemed just as confused as to why Scott was throwing empty candy wrappers into the air like they were flower petals.

“Don’t let him tire your Pokémon out,” Lydia suggested. “Principal Milder used the same tactic earlier on a boy’s Shroomish. He lucked out, you know. Effect Spore decided to activate when she tried finishing the battle with Tackle. Nosepass went right to sleep and couldn’t block Bullet Seed. If you ask me, he didn’t deserve that badge.”

“Black hair, glasses, sarcastic, and rude?” Melissa asked.

“Plaid gray shirt too,” Lydia shuddered. “No fashion sense at all.”

“I can hear you!” a voice protested from the stands.

Milo waved at Bradley, who scowled back fiercely. His Shroomish and Minun were playing an odd game of rock-paper-scissors together, ignoring their trainer’s grudge against Milo.

Well, it looked like rock-paper-scissors, but Milo wasn’t sure how Shroomish managed the appropriate shapes without hands.

“Hey, you came!” Milo exclaimed. “I bet you’re just as excited as me!”

“I’m excited to watch you lose,” Bradley said, adding an eye roll for good measure. He turned his attention to Lydia. “And this shirt is part of the Gothitelle Boutique winter line. It’s fashionable.”

“Sure, if your definition of fashionable includes rainclouds hanging above your head and spreading a mission of doom and gloom,” Lydia retorted.

Bradley flicked his hand dismissively and sat down, still glaring at Milo while he scratched Minun’s ear.

Milo wasn’t sure if Bradley was trying to emulate one of those jerk rival archetypes from Sara’s favorite anime, because he seemed to run more along the lines of grumpy guys with soft spots for non-humans.

“You’ll do great,” Melissa said. “Just remember, Zack and I are right behind you...and the protective shield.”

The shield was mostly there to protect spectators from barrages of dirt, water, and other attacks, but it would be good protection against Murphy’s Law as well.

“You can do it, Milo!” Amanda cheered. Minccino squealed in encouragement, perching on Amanda’s head for a better view.

Milo took his position on the battlefield. Diogee stood next to him, his front legs trembling with excitement. Milo grinned.

“You’ll get your chance, but I’d like to lead with Mudkip,” Milo told him.

Diogee fixed Milo with a red-eyed stare, his chest heaving in a deep sigh.

“Save the best for last, remember?” Milo asked.

Diogee’s chest puffed out with pride.

The irate primary school teacher finally gave up berating Murawski and stalked off the field, muttering some very unkind things about Milder’s hiring choices.

Murawski draped herself across her desk, holding a megaphone in one hand while supporting herself with the other. Milo took the opportunity to set her up with a protective shield of her own as she announced the rules of the gym battle.

“This is a match between Scott, designated gym leader, and Milo, our challenger!” Murawski shouted into the megaphone. “This will be a two-on-two battle and no-SCREEE!”

Her last word turned into a high-pitch wail that made everyone cover their ears.

“Sorry! Technical malfunction! Happens all the time!” Murawski giggled nervously, a strange snort coming out of her nose.

Once he was finished with the shield, Milo set two extra megaphones on the ground next to her desk. “You’ll want those,” he said.

Murawski took it in stride and shooed him back into position.

“-no substitutions are allowed. Scott has been given authority to issue the Stone Badge if the challenger wins.”

“Pumice or feldspar?” Scott asked, digging around in his hard hat, which appeared to be full of small rocks.

“Do you even have the Stone Badge on your person?” Murawski asked, aiming the megaphone in his direction.

“My person is Mildred!” Scott exclaimed.

Murawski stared at him for a few moments, and when he offered no further explanation, she turned her attention to a group of students in the stands. “Allison, grab a Stone Badge from Milder’s office. It’s in the desk, first drawer on your left.”

Allison ran off and came back with the Stone Badge in record time, evidently not wanting to delay the match any further.

Murawski stored the badge in her desk for safekeeping. “Commence the battle, and I swear if any of you hurts my little desky-poo...”

She let the threat hang in the air, then raised a green flag to signal the beginning of the match.

“Mudkip, let’s do our best!” Milo shouted, sending the Poké Ball flying. Mudkip used Water Gun on his Poké Ball in a display of power and sent it hurtling straight for the megaphone in Murawski’s hand.

“Save me, desk!” Murawski shrieked, ducking underneath for cover as the Poké Ball shattered the megaphone upon impact. The megaphone released a final screech as its final cry before falling silent.

“The blue-finned one’s your new friend, Cynthia!” Scott exclaimed, gently setting an orange juice carton down several feet in front of him.

Milo glanced at the audience, but most of them didn’t look too surprised at Scott’s choice. Zack, Lydia, and Amanda all had to strain Melissa from marching down to Scott and decking him for breaking the sacred rules of battle.

“Scott, the rulebook clearly states that orange juice cartons are not Pokémon,” Murawski sighed. “Neither are motorbikes, cupholders, or Pikipek.”

“You mean the native bird of Alola?” Melissa asked, looking up from the notebook she was writing in.

“Pikipek are evil. They will devour your desks in seconds and have your backup desk as dessert. They are not of this world,” Murawski’s voice dropped to a low hiss, stunning everyone into silence.

Except for Scott, who just threw his arms up in the air. “It’s the inside that counts!” he exclaimed.

A green pile of goo oozed out of the carton, reshaping itself into a blobby Pokémon. It smiled at Mudkip, revealing two peg-shaped teeth.

Milo was no stranger to Grimer, since they lived inside the caves surrounding Mt. Chimney. But he’d never seen a green one before.

“Milo!” Melissa shouted from the stands. “Alolan Grimer are Poison and Dark type! It’s even more weak to Ground than the ones at Mt. Chimney!”

“Don’t give him info!” Bradley scoffed. “I’m trying to watch him lose!”

He was immediately met by four outraged protests. “Quiet, Bradley!”

Bradley sank further into his seat, grumbling about unlawful interference.

“Use Mud Slap!” Milo shouted, deciding to open with a super effective move to see how Mudkip fared.

Mudkip slammed his paws into the rocky ground and released twin jets of mud, which arched towards Cynthia.

“Make yourself pretty and share your makeup with the blue-finned one!” Scott yelled.

Cynthia’s body glowed blue and vanished in the blink of an eye. The mud streams hit the ground, leaving a rather ugly splotch of greenish-brown gunk. Before Milo could blink, Cynthia materialized behind Mudkip and spat a glob of acid at him. Mudkip yelped as the sludge hit his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Milo asked as Mudkip staggered.

Mudkip nodded. He wasn’t poisoned for now, but that could change at any moment.

“Make yourself even prettier!” Scott exclaimed.

“Try another Mud Slap!” Milo yelled.

Mud Slap clipped Cynthia’s arm, but didn’t cause enough damage to surprise her.

Unfortunately, the protective shields did nothing to protect spectators from attacks above their heads. Screams erupted from the stands as people used backpacks, jackets, and each other to block the sludge Cynthia haphazardly lobbed as she zoomed all over the gym. It splattered all over the protective shields, making Murawski shriek and cover her desk protectively.

Cynthia bounced off the walls at high speeds, leaving small piles of goop behind wherever she landed. Diogee ducked into a small area under the bleachers, dutifully avoiding the sludge piles as he curled up.

“I’ll call you when it’s your turn!” Milo shouted to Diogee, quickly putting on safety goggles to protect his eyes.

Scott chuckled at the chaotic scene. “We’re making art! Don’t forget your subject, Cynthia!”

Cynthia lobbed several globs of sludge at Mudkip, but Mudkip blocked them all with well-aimed Water Gun attacks. However, this didn’t deter Cynthia in the slightest.

Milo knew he had to do something before Mudkip got too tired to track her. He flicked a stray candy wrapper that had blown onto his shoe.

There were a lot of candy wrappers on the ground.

Vaguely, Milo recalled his dad’s wise sayings about Grimer.

“Grimer love trash of any kind. So if the Bouffalant painting behind us mysteriously disappears one day, I deny any involvement in allowing a Grimer to eat it.”

Granted, the Bouffalant painting hadn’t disappeared under mysterious circumstances yet, but the point still stood.

While Cynthia and Scott were fixated on creating an acidic portrait of a Dustox on the shields, Milo called Mudkip over. Mudkip bounded him up to him, shaking the sludge off his tail.

“Mudkip, I want you to gather every candy wrapper you can find and put it into a pile. And don’t call Scott’s attention to you,” Milo said. “We have to get Cynthia in one place to hit her. She’s too fast with that double Rock Polish.”

Once Mudkip collected a sizable amount and piled it all into the middle of the field, Milo ordered a Water Gun to get Cynthia and Scott into battle mode. Mudkip stayed near the pile of wrappers, dodging Sludge attacks until Scott finally called for Bite.

Now that Rock Polish had mostly worn off, Cynthia wasn’t as swift in her movements and Mudkip easily sidestepped her gaping maw. Cynthia crashed into the wrappers, though she wasn’t hurt by the impact and immediately started munching on the wrappers.

“You’ll ruin your dinner!” Scott shouted. “Don’t you want roast leftover meatloaf on a stick?”

Cynthia paid him no mind.

Milo grinned. “She’s in position! Fire at will!”

Just as Cynthia dropped the last candy wrapper into her mouth, twin jets of mud smacked into her mucky green body.

Mudkip cheered at the direct hit, but his elation didn’t last long when an enraged Cynthia tried to drop a giant rock on his head.

“Target practice! Head worth fifty points, fin worth forty, body worth twenty, and limbs are five!” Scott exclaimed. “Bet you can’t beat my record!”

As a matter of fact, Cynthia really wanted to beat his record. Mudkip panted, crouching low in front of a rocky pillar. Cynthia stretched her slime so that she rose above Mudkip, holding a giant rock above her head with amazing strength.

“Mudkip, get out of there!” Milo warned.

Cynthia brought the rock down, and Mudkip’s body suddenly became enveloped in a blinding white glow. His front legs stretched, growing longer until the rock was firmly in his grasp. The form grew larger, then the light died away, revealing a light blue Pokémon with a bipedal stance.

“Let’s finish this off, Marshtomp!” Milo shouted. “Mud Bomb!”

Marshtomp wrenched the rock out of Cynthia’s grasp, applied a much stronger Water Gun to the rock to break it into dust, and flung the muddy projectile into Cynthia’s torso.

Acid and mud splatted everywhere, and Cynthia laid unconscious, her peg-like teeth exposed.

Murawski blocked her desk from further attack with one arm while she used the megaphone to announce the results.

“Grimer is unable to battle!” she proclaimed.

A resounding cheer came from Milo’s friends.

“Into the orange juice carton, Cynthia. We’ll dumpster dive for your reward later,” Scott said, coaxing her into the container he’d first thrown onto the field. Once Cynthia was out of sight, Scott grinned widely at Milo. “Have I ever introduced you to Mildred?”

Milo shook his head.

“Oh, I haven’t?” Scott looked sheepish. “Whoops, guess I’ll have to fix that! Methuselah, meet Mildred!”

He placed a milk carton on a flat piece of rock at his waist level.

Milo waved awkwardly. “It’s Milo.”

“Sassa-oh no, it’s sorry! Sorry, Mikey!” Scott said.

Close enough.

Murawski lifted her megaphone again. “Scott, milk cartons are prohibited from participating in an official gym battle.”

Scott blinked at her. “Wow. You guys are like, really discriminatory to cartons.”

The carton glowed red and released a Miltank, who stomped the ground with such force that Milo could feel the tremor. While Milo was curious as to how Scott managed to get a discarded carton to work as a Poké Ball, he didn’t get a chance to ask since Miltank body slammed Marshtomp into the ground without a prompt from her trainer.

Marshtomp was knocked out instantly.

“Marshtomp is unable to battle!” Murawski declared. “Both trainers are down to their last Pokémon!”

“C’MON, MILO! YOU CAN BEAT HIM!” Amanda screeched. She leaned dangerously over the railing. Zack and Lydia hauled her back to her seat, but she barely noticed.

Bradley muttered something Milo couldn’t make out, but Melissa didn’t look too happy and she ‘accidentally’ jabbed him with her elbow while standing up to cheer for Milo.

“Looks like you’re up, Diogee!” Milo called as he returned Marshtomp to his Poké Ball.

Diogee crawled out from his spot underneath the bleachers and took up a position on the battlefield.

“No roughhousing!” Scott yelled. “Play nice, Mildred!”

Mildred took her trainer’s order as an excuse to body slam Diogee, who barely dodged in time. Milo sidestepped to avoid being steamrolled by a charging Miltank, and she crashed into the wall that separated the field and bleachers.

The spectators behind him screamed as the bleachers shook and collapsed.

“We’re okay!” Melissa yelled.

“I can’t feel my appendix!” Zack complained.

“All of us except Zack’s appendix are okay!” Melissa amended.

Mildred grinned dizzily, charging back onto the field. Diogee aimed a Cut attack in her direction, but it barely slowed her down.

“Right hoof, let’s stomp!” Scott yelled as he did some weird jig that involved a lot of leg-shaking. Mildred stomped on Diogee’s hind legs, making him stumble and lose his balance.

“Are you okay?” Milo asked. Diogee staggered away from Mildred, sending an affirming nod to Milo. “Good! Let’s try Bite!”

Diogee darted forward, avoiding another Stomp and landing Bite on Mildred’s shoulder. Mildred cried out and tried to shake him off, but Diogee held on tightly.

“Scratch while you’re in close quarters!” Milo shouted.

The tips of Diogee’s claws elongated into long, thin strips of light and scratched Mildred in the face and stomach.

“Good job, Diogee!” Milo praised.

Diogee broke his Bite attack to give a pleased look at Milo, allowing Mildred to fling him off.

“Snack break!” Scott exclaimed, wolfing down a can of beans at a speed so fast that Milo was sure he’d choke. He tossed a milk bottle to Mildred, who happily gulped it down. In a few moments, it appeared as though Diogee hadn’t gotten those close quarter hits on Mildred at all.

“Is that legal?” Milo called to Murawski, who was too busy carrying her desk out of the room to pay attention.

“You saw the destructive power of that Body Slam!” Murawski shouted. “There is no way I’m risking my desk’s life!”

“Keep rolling, Mildred!” Scott called as he wiped bean residue from his face.

Mildred curled into a pink ball and spun in place, building up enough energy to propel her to Diogee. Diogee unleashed several Cuts, two hitting their mark and three that crashed into the ceiling, sending several chunks raining down.

Milo opened an umbrella to protect himself from the dust.

Mildred slammed into Diogee, sending him sprawling. Then she continued to roll past him at high speed, ricocheting off a wall as she rolled into him a second time. Diogee retaliated with another Cut, which prevented a third Rollout from connecting and sent Mildred spinning toward Scott’s side of the field.

Mildred crashed into another wall, and Milo decided that he’d better end this match before the building collapsed.

“Diogee, cleave a furrow into the ground with Cut!” Milo shouted.

“Pass the roll and butter, Mildred!” Scott called.

A well-executed Cut cleared enough rock to form a shallow groove in the ground.

“Dodge and ready your Razor Wind!” Milo called as Mildred barrelled straight at Diogee. Jumping to the other side to avoid Mildred, Diogee’s horn began to glow white as the winds whipped through his fur.

Mildred crashed straight into the furrow, her body still a pink and black ball, as if she hadn’t realized she was trapped.

Once the wind was sufficiently built up, Diogee released it, and the air blades crashed straight into Mildred. She uncurled, panting heavily and making no effort to climb out.

“Finish with Bite!” Milo yelled.

The resulting Bite drained the little energy Mildred had left, and she collapsed as soon as Diogee carried her out of the furrow.

Melissa hopped over the railing and grabbed a megaphone that had somehow avoided the line of fire. “Miltank is unable to battle! The winner is Diogee! The challenger wins the match!”

With the exception of Bradley, the spectators cheered. His friends ran onto the battlefield, loudly cheering for Milo’s victory. Bradley sullenly followed behind them.

Bradley scowled. “You’re not an official referee!”

“There’s a rule stating that the family of a gym leader could act as referee if an official ref is unavailable,” Melissa replied with a smirk. “It’s obscure now because the League wants to avoid nepotism, but never officially repealed.”

“Your friend is kinda scary,” Lydia remarked.

Milo couldn’t reply because Amanda and Minccino were nearly choking him in their enthusiasm.

Once they allowed him some breathing room, Milo released Marshtomp from his Poké Ball. While Marshtomp would need more rest before battling again, he was well enough to celebrate their victory.

“You two were awesome today!” Milo exclaimed.

Diogee and Marshtomp puffed their chests out in pride.

“It shouldn’t count,” Bradley muttered. “He wasn’t even battling the official leader.”

Lydia left briefly to retrieve the badge from Murawski, who still refused to enter the arena while Scott and Mildred were around. They still had the capacity to destroy her beloved desk.

Because Scott was the designated gym leader, Lydia had to hand off the badge to him so he could officially present it to Milo.

“This stone makes you our leader!” Scott declared, dropping the Stone Badge onto Milo’s head. “Cynthia, Mildred, and I are at your command! Who would you like us to trap underground?”

“Well, there’s someone who owes me money...” Melissa began, but Zack put his hand over her mouth to indicate that they weren’t trapping anyone underground. Scott and Mildred seemed rather disappointed.

Milo plucked the Stone Badge off his head, passing it around to his friends so they could see it too. Minccino wouldn’t let Amanda give the badge back to Milo until it received a proper cleaning.

“I just got...A STONE BADGE!” Milo exclaimed once Minccino was satisfied, holding his badge triumphantly in the air. Marshtomp and Diogee struck victory poses.

“Really?” Melissa asked as Milo stored it in his badge case.

Milo shrugged. “It looks fun when they do it on TV.”

“Well, Mildred and I must be off!” Scott saluted as he and Mildred squeezed into a large pipe that had been exposed during the battle. “Those dumpsters ain’t diving themselves!”

“The next gym leader better not smell like sewer...” Bradley muttered.

“And then I said ‘girl, that’s not a Trubbish! That Pokémon is way cuter than your hairstyle!’“ Lydia finished, bowing low to a round of applause as they exited the Rustboro School.

“Trubbish are pretty popular with Dr. Magnezone fans,” Milo said. “Problem is there’s so many nicknamed Trubbishdroid that they can never tell them apart!”

Zack and Lydia broke into hysterical laughter, and Milo laughed too until he felt someone crash into him. Milo fell back, rubbing his head where it had collided with the other person’s.

The pain quickly subsided and Milo offered his hand to the other person, who was whimpering fearfully at the empty briefcase he dropped. The green suit looked vaguely familiar.

“Hey, aren’t you that businessman we helped in Petalburg Woods?” Melissa asked.

“You have to help me!” the businessman cried out, looking ready to faint at any moment.

“Yup, it’s him. Before you faint from sheer terror, mind filling us in?” Milo asked.

“Red mustache! Gray clothes! Stole...weird hat doesn’t match! No, wait!” the businessman screeched, pointing in the direction of the mountains. Melissa and Bradley shot him exasperated looks. “Other way around! Gray mustache and red clothes! Funny hat! Took my goods! The super important goods! Running into Rusnel Tunturf...Neltun Turfrus...I regret skipping lunch...”

He fainted.

“I think he meant Rusturf Tunnel,” Amanda said while everyone stared in disbelief. “It’s east of here.”

“I’m leaving,” Bradley scoffed. “I have my own things to do.”

Melissa latched onto his arm and dragged him to the east exit, ignoring Bradley’s protests. “You’re coming. Milo’s Pokémon are still tired and we could use the extra help.”

Alolan Grimer can learn Rock Polish via TM. Both types of Grimer can learn Rock Tomb.

The bit with Martin saying he wanted to feed the Bouffalant painting to Grimer came from Disco-Do Over, in which one of Martin’s listed dreams is replacing the buffalo painting in the living room.

Whitney’s strategy in the anime was to just have Miltank steamroll her opponent with Rollout until they fainted. Similar concept here really.

First gym battle is done and Milo has the Stone Badge! Next it’s to Rusturf Tunnel they go!

#milo murphy's law #absolutely disastrous #scott the undergrounder #oras au #pokemon au #bradley nicholson #melissa chase #zack underwood #diogee #amanda and lydia

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quackspot · 5 years

Note

imagine someone just going 1-200 and you have to answer 200 questions for a stranger

well u better strap up becuase im about to do it

200: My crush’s name is: i dunno who do u think my crush’s name is199: I was born in: a year which is 2004198: I am really: a homo sapien197: My cellphone company is: i think its samsung196: My eye color is: brown195: My shoe size is: 9 or 9.5 i think just 9194: My ring size is: WAIT RINGS HAD SIZES????? i dunno193: My height is: 5′4 ISH but i just say 5′4 because im actually really sensitive about my height and the less than an inch that brings me to 5′4 makes me somewhat happier with myself192: I am allergic to: maybe dustmites 191: My 1st car was: not yet190: My 1st job was: NOT YET189: Last book you read: technically a book called Dad Jokes theyre really funny jokes but if you mean story with plot then probably Grand & Humble unless if you include everything then yesterday i peeked in some books188: My bed is: a bed which i sleep in and that’s pretty much it actually i havent really made my bed in a while 187: My pet: jax and nibsy r the family pets jax is a shih-poo shihtzu poodle mix and nibsy is a cat186: My best friend: my brother185: My favorite shampoo is: shampoo184: Xbox or ps3: hard choice there’s xbox overall and little big planet this is actually a very hard choice lksiiro3jedsklmf,gsda little big planet is great........................183: Piggy banks are: piggy banks. theyre great182: In my pockets: I DONT HAVE POCKETS IM A WOMAN181: On my calendar: whats a calendar lol!!!!180: Marriage is: marriage 179: Spongebob can: dodod od odo dodooo178: My mom: IS GREAT i lov her shes a good mom177: The last three songs I bought were? i dont buy songs i listen to them176: Last YouTube video watched: i mean im listening to boyfriend big time rush on youtube right now but if you mean actual watching its snufkin saying “hi moomin” to moomin a quick 6 second clip175: How many cousins do you have? i duno174: Do you have any siblings? yeah173: Are your parents divorced? yeah172: Are you taller than your mom? probably not :(171: Do you play an instrument? i play the trumpet i did it today and it was really boring i dont want to go to any more graduations not even my own170: What did you do yesterday? things[ I Believe In ]169: Love at first sight: not really but somewhat and i like it because its a fun little thing to put in fiction 168: Luck: yea im very lucky167: Fate: its my destiny to die someday . . .. . in the futuuuuuuuuuuure

166: Yourself: as far as im aware no165: Aliens: yeah probably164: Heaven: i know it probably isnt real but i cant help believing163: Hell:i know it probably isnt real but i cant help believing162: God: only to blame them for stuff161: Horoscopes: yea theyre fun to read160: Soul mates: ehehehehehhe fun in fanfiction and would greatly b ok with it irl159: Ghosts: who else would hold my hand at night...... not even a ghost :) (but yea i do believe in them when i grow up i wana be a ghost)158: Gay Marriage: why wouldnt i believe in gay marriage 157: War: what is it good for156: Orbs: borb155: Magic: i like magic so i will believe in it [ This or That ]154: Hugs or Kisses: yes153: Drunk or High: probably high i guess152: Phone or Online: ONLINE151: Red heads or Black haired: black haired 150: Blondes or Brunettes: BRUNETTES dude blondes r ok but i personally like darker hair149: Hot or cold: hot148: Summer or winter: SUMMER I HATE WINTER SO FUCKIGNT OASJKU*($@IRWJKOSDIUOKLJEZUDIFLK:LDSK:LKF:LJIODSKZVDJFKL mostly becuase i hate being cold and i hate snow becuase i have to shovel snow and its so cold147: Autumn or Spring: either one 146: Chocolate or vanilla: choc o late145: Night or Day: night144: Oranges or Apples: apples143: Curly or Straight hair: curly but i guess straight is ok142: McDonalds or Burger King: burbger king good milkshakese141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: idk uhh milk chocolate140: Mac or PC: pc139: Flip flops or high heals: neither......138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: ugly and rich i can just buy surgeries to make me prettier lmao137: Coke or Pepsi: coke136: Hillary or Obama: i dont wanna answer this :(((((( i dont like being bullied135: Burried or cremated: cremated babye put me in the flames ;3c134: Singing or Dancing: i like singing i like dancing i like trains 133: Coach or Chanel: what132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: who are these people131: Small town or Big city: im just a mere small town babye ;3c big cities sound scary 130: Wal-Mart or Target: target has the good cheeseballs129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: i only know adam sandler128: Manicure or Pedicure: i dont do my nails 127: East Coast or West Coast: uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhh both are coasts126: Your Birthday or Christmas: birthday i get more gifts then uwu125: Chocolate or Flowers: chocolate124: Disney or Six Flags: disney because idk what six flags is isnt it a restaurant or something123: Yankees or Red Sox: a baseball bat [ Here’s What I Think About ]122: War: what is it good for!121: George Bush: idk 120: Gay Marriage: yeah gay rights119: The presidential election: im not that into politics so i dont understand the elections and i dont think their fair since i get all my facts from adam ruins everything this isnt even a joke118: Abortion: pro choice i dont giv a crap about some lifeless baby. its only alive if it can properly move its arms or cry or feel.117: MySpace: haha dead116: Reality TV: idk 115: Parents: theyre parents 114: Back stabbers: ow my back113: Ebay: website.... money112: Facebook: lizard man111: Work: what110: My Neighbors: idk who they are but my old neighbor was one of my best friends i should talk to him this summer109: Gas Prices: probably too high108: Designer Clothes: clothes107: College: something i dont plan on going to any time soon106: Sports: something i dont plan on doing any time soon105: My family: a family104: The future: spooky. very scary. idk what my job will be[ Last time I ]103: Hugged someone: idk (update it was today)102: Last time you ate: 4:13 ish i made ramne101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: i duno100: Cried in front of someone: today i suppose i almost cried???? maybe my dentist appointment a few weeks ago??99: Went to a movie theater: lego movie 2 i think98: Took a vacation: 6th grade im in 9th grade now its been like 3 years97: Swam in a pool: over 1 year i dont go to the pool anymore96: Changed a diaper: NEVER AND I NEVER PLAN ON IT95: Got my nails done: i duno94: Went to a wedding: i also dunno its been too long93: Broke a bone: not that i can recal92: Got a peircing: never and never will91: Broke the law: i duno90: Texted: just now i told my mommy to pick me up it wasl ike 1 hour ago[ MISC ]89: Who makes you laugh the most: me88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: my momy and nibsy and jax and probably zach but he’d already move out by the time i leave87: The last movie I saw: i dont remember probably lego movie 2 or osmething on tv86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: next year drama club85: The thing im not looking forward to: dying?????? idk man 84: People call me: moto moto (not really idk what they call me)83: The most difficult thing to do is: the most difficult thing82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: never though i probs will someday81: My zodiac sign is: aquarius sun leo moon aries rising80: The first person i talked to today was: probably kiley79: First time you had a crush: kindergarten i think78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: myself77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: idk76: Right now I am talking to: nobody 75: What are you going to do when you grow up: *has a crisis over my future plans as i do not know*74: I have/will get a job: im gona work at target or burger king next year maybe it depends on if they like me73: Tomorrow: 5/20..............72: Today: today71: Next Summer: in a theater near u70: Next Weekend: my first summer weekend 69: I have these pets: I ALREAD YSAID WHAT PETS I HAVE I LOVE NIBSY WITH ALL MY HEART and jax with some extra parts of my heart68: The worst sound in the world: a sound67: The person that makes me cry the most is: me66: People that make you happy: me65: Last time I cried: ealier today64: My friends are: online63: My computer is: on62: My School: is a school61: My Car: nonexistent 60: I lose all respect for people who: are really mean and seem to hate people for being happy. people who make jokes that make me uncomfortable. i generally avoid them.59: The movie I cried at was: all of them58: Your hair color is: brown57: TV shows you watch: idk56: Favorite web site: idk probs youtube55: Your dream vacation: nowhere 54: The worst pain I was ever in was: A FEW WEEKS AGO I GOT STITCHES IN MY MOUTH AND IT REALLY HURT UGHGTUERIJOKFLDc53: How do you like your steak cooked: edible52: My room is: a room51: My favorite celebrity is: myslef..... just kidding idk any celebs 50: Where would you like to be: where i am 49: Do you want children: no 48: Ever been in love: hoo ha hoo ha i duno how love feels exactly47: Who’s your best friend: MY BROTHER46: More guy friends or girl friends: guys i think 99% of my friends are my brothers friends so45: One thing that makes you feel great is: being happy44: One person that you wish you could see right now: nobody right now but sometimes kiley43: Do you have a 5 year plan: 5 years??? haha no i only plan on using savings accounts to make a bit more money and MAYBE moving to kiley but idk for sure since i like my parents and my brother and my parents plan on driving around in an rv but idk man moving to another state would be HARD and im kinda lazy and i’d have to get a whole new driver’s license 42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: no41: Have you pre-named your children: lmao all my ideas are jokes40: Last person I got mad at: probably myslef39: I would like to move to: my bed???????38: I wish I was a professional: personer. talker. socialer. [ My Favorites ]37: Candy: probably snickers or a salted nut roll36: Vehicle: big car. tahoe shape. tahoe size. idk. something like a tahoe thats my only reference35: President: I Don’t Care34: State visited: probably florida its the only one of 3 states i’ve been to33: Cellphone provider: what32: Athlete: WHAT31: Actor: idk 30: Actress: idk29: Singer: not me? me? idk28: Band: taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaally hall??? ? ?? ? ?? ? ? ? I DONT KNOWIJ DSKJZLFKSJKLDSHDLfjklskl;fdkl;sfk;laf 27: Clothing store: i legit have like no faves god this is the hardest part26: Grocery store: target probably25: TV show: maybe the simpsons???24: Movie: idk ive seen a lot of movies23: Website: one of them22: Animal: one of them21: Theme park: universal studios20: Holiday: none of them theyre all ok but ??? meh19: Sport to watch: none.18: Sport to play: idk i dont like being competitive but??????? gym class is a fun sport! :)17: Magazine: none of them16: Book: one of them15: Day of the week: wednesday sounds like a good day. maybe sundays. 14: Beach: what13: Concert attended: frankly the only concerts i’ve been to are my own12: Thing to cook: probably ramen11: Food: cheeseballs??????? burger king milkshake, a drink?10: Restaurant: buuuuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrger kiiiiiiiiiiing?9: Radio station: 101.9 kelo eff emmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm8: Yankee candle scent: what7: Perfume: what6: Flower: what5: Color: red or purple4: Talk show host: wha

3: Comedian: i duno2: Dog breed: one of them1: Did you answer all these truthfully? yeah i tried but i kinda gave up slightly after i came back from a graduation party though i also kind of gave up from the start so

#ohrat

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minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 6 years

Text

Arranged Epilogue

Description: Y/N and Yoongi have been through the ringer and they finally have a moment to breathe. They are making up for lost time as they explore an idyllic island together. Who wants to follow them on their honeymoon?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x (f) Reader

Word Count: 4,744

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Chaebol!Au, Company!Au, Arranged Marriage!Au

Warnings: Coarse language, although not frequently

A/N: Ah hello my loves! Here is the epilogue. I’m excited to give you guys some straight fluff!! Like dang, you have suffered enough!! This is a bit shorter than a normal chapter, mostly because there’s no drama haha. So I hope you like it. Just as a little thank you for enjoying the story, and as a send-off for Arranged! I know it’s weird to say goodbye, but we can always explore these characters more through drabbles! Just let me know what you want and I’ll get on it. As always, please send me anything you want! I’ll be without wifi at the coast, so my responses might be a little late since I’ll be on mobile, but please don’t let that stop you from sending me an ask! I truly love talking to you guys. And of course, feel free to message me about any concerns or critique you have.

ALSO VERY IMPORTANT!

Our next fic will be titled Dissonance and, as you may or may not know, it will star the one and only Kim Taehyung - based on your poll votes! So, keep an eye out on Wednesday for an official introduction and a lil baby spoiler ;). I’m excited to get started!!

–Mercury

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen (END), Epilogue

———————————————————————————————————

“I can’t believe he took me to Tahiti.”

“I can’t believe you’re on the phone with my while you’re in Tahiti.”

I sighed and glared into the cerulean waters outside our floating cabin. I could see a few stray fish playing tag in the ocean’s depth just beyond where I sat, shaded by the thatched roof. I rested on a chaise lounge, phone in hand, sun warming my thighs.

“He’s sleeping,” I insisted.

Hana gave a rapturous yawn. “Yeah, that’s what I’d like to be doing too.”

“Wait,” I said, then covered my lips with my fingers. “What time is it?”

“Six in the stupid morning,” Hana mumbled.

I blinked a few times. It was only eleven here. I’d completely forgotten the time difference. “Shit! I’m sorry. I’ll go now.”

She laughed. “Go wake up your husband.”

I blushed. “Sleep,” I said before hanging up and wringing my hands. I glanced around me, back towards the island, and saw the lush greenery sway slightly in the ocean breeze. I’d never seen so much beauty in one place, the island’s sharp peaks reaching into the bright blue sky unobstructed by even a single cloud.

Our porch was comfortable and through the gaps in the wood floor I could see bits of ocean water as it waved. I wiggled my toes and smiled. Despite the guilt over being here at all, I couldn’t deny the place’s breezy charm. It was like a living daydream. I took a deep breath of fresh sea air, letting the warmth fill my nostrils, and stood to my feet, padding softly back into the hut. Yoongi slept peacefully on the massive white bed, his arms and legs spread as he lay on his stomach and let out little snores. I smiled fondly at him.

Quietly, I opened the bamboo blinds, letting more sunlight seep into the room. I heard him groan and smirked. I hated waking him up. That was something I’d learned quickly once we started sleeping in the same bed. Not only was he a total grump most mornings, he was as immovable as a damn rock. Trying to find creative ways to coax him out of bed in the morning had become something of a ritual.

I knew the window wouldn’t be enough. The cabin was already flooded with morning light by nature of its design. I pursed my lips and thought a moment. Then, with a smile, I hopped back into the bed, my pajama shorts bunching as I lay on top of the sleeping man, the whole weight of my body pressed onto his back.

He groaned. “Y/N,” he mumbled, the familiar rasp in his voice causing butterflies to flutter in my stomach.

I chuckled. “Time to get up, lazy boy.”

“They called me Motionless Min in high school you know,” he said, lips pressed into his pillow.

“Yes, I know. You’ve told me. Now rise, my undead servant. Rise,” I said, shacking his shoulders.

He shook his head. “Ten more minutes.”

“That excuse works at home. Not in Tahiti.”

He turned his head so he could look at me through one dark eye, the other half of his face squished onto the pillow. His lips spread in a smirk. “Wait, we’re in Tahiti?”

I smacked his exposed shoulder and sat upright, straddling his back. “Min Yoongi!” I shouted.

He twisted around so he was laying on his back, resting his hands on my thighs with a bright smile. “Min Y/N,” he said lowly.

I rolled my eyes. “That’s not the face of a man ready to go on a jungle hike.”

He laughed. “You’re right.”

I hit his chest lightly. “We’ve been here a day and all we’ve done is sleep,” I complained, my lips forming a pout. It was strange what married life had done to me…

“Hey,” he said softly, hands rubbing my skin. “We’ve done more than sleep.”

“Ew!” I shouted, hopping off of him and stumbling back onto the floor, leaving my lecherous husband laughing in the bed by himself. “You have ten minutes to get ready or I’m throwing you into the ocean!”

Although I did not throw him into the ocean, Yoongi did take longer than ten minutes, despite me breathing down his neck as he lazily brushed his teeth, lazily put on his clothes, lazily styled his hair (which I mentioned on more than one occasion was a waste of time because of the humidity). We ended up leaving the cabin at 11:30 AM, armed with backpacks I packed and a map which I demanded to keep in my possession.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” I said as he whined about it during our walk to the trailhead from the car we’d rented. “It’s that I trust me more.”

He stuck out his tongue for a second before gently taking hold of my hand and intertwining our fingers with a cheeky grin as we stepped over some exposed roots. “You know what’s better than a long hike in the jungle?” he asked.

I leaned away from him slightly, furrowing my brow. “Don’t say anything that will make me have to really push you into the ocean…,” I warned.

He laughed and planted a soft kiss against my temple. “Resting on the beach. Maybe taking a nap,” he said.

I clenched my jaw and shut my eyes as I struggled to retain my composure. Perhaps because he was wealthy all his life, these amazing places didn’t hold much interest for him anymore. Perhaps he was used to majesty in the world. But to me, this experience was invaluable.

“I’m not gonna waste my time in a place this beautiful by sleeping,” I said, glancing at him. “We have to see it, Yoongi! Do you know how many people would kill to be here?”

He pursed his lips. “We aren’t keeping them from coming here themselves.”

“Most people who want to can’t afford it,” I said softly as we walked along the sand, following the directions I’d found online to the trailhead.

He was quiet as he thought of this for a moment. He took a deep breath as we reached the edge of the forest, just beside a sign marking the beginning of the hike, and gave me a smile. “I’m sorry,” he said.

I raised my brows. “Hm? What for?” I asked.

“Sometimes I forget that I’m fortunate. I’m glad you’re here to remind me,” he said.

I laughed and shook my head. “If nagging is all it takes to get you to appreciate me, I’ll nag more often,” I joked, leaning up towards him and offering a chaste kiss. “We don’t have to do this today if you really don’t want to, you know,” I conceded with a smile. “We can rest on the beach and play with the fish.”

He shook his head, thumb rubbing circles into my hand. “I want to. You’re right. When are we gonna get this chance again?”

I smiled as I tilted my head to the side, examining him from below as the sunlight made a gold halo around his hair. “You’re handsome when you listen to what I say,” I said with a giggle.

He narrowed his eyes at me, but after a moment cracked a smile and swayed our clasped hands. “I’m always handsome,” he said.

“Indisputable,” I teased.

He rolled his eyes. “Quit quoting me and let’s get hiking.”

The canopy of trees seemed to bend and curve around us as we tramped through the undergrowth. We were met at every turn with beauty unparalleled: spectacular views of the water, sweeping expanses of emerald rainforest, steep cliffside stopping points leading impossibly down to the beach. Yoongi complained very little, much to my surprise, and even though both of us were sweating and tired our spirits were remarkably high. The hike wasn’t long or arduous, but his attitude seemed to have changed entirely over the course of our trek. As we dredged ever closer to the elusive promised land of a beautiful waterfall, Yoongi came up behind me and, slowing our speed, wrapped his arms around my torso. The action was awkward as I was still wearing my backpack, and his hands barely made it around to touch my tank top.

I turned to look at him as we lobbed side to side together, our steps slow and synchronized. “What is it?”

“I’m just…kind of amazed,” he said.

I laughed. “Even the great Min Yoongi can feel overwhelmed by nature sometimes,” I teased.

He chuckled. “Yes. I am a human after all.”

“I’m amazed too,” I said as I glanced around the path, a couple squeezing past us as they walked back the way we came. “It’s really pretty here.”

“And it’s about to get prettier,” he said, pointing ahead.

I followed his pale finger and saw in the distance a hint of waterfall. I was quick to untangle our limbs and jog ahead towards it, Yoongi in tow and laughing behind me as he struggled to keep up. We both slowed to a stop on the cement viewing platform, my mouth agape as I took in the splendor of it. Water cascaded from hundreds of feat overhead, pooling in a plume of mist below us. I laughed in disbelief and turned to Yoongi. His eyes were wide, his smile wider, and his hair was standing at awkward angles, curling slightly from the humidity. I chuckled and took a moment to softly brush a stray hair from his dewy forehead.

“Yoongi,” I said quietly, grinning up at him.

He wrapped his arms around me and smiled with a tenderness that disarmed me. “Thank you,” he said.

I blushed and shook my head, watching the waterfall reflected in the brown of his eyes. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You got me out here,” he said, fingers rubbing my hips slightly. “That was no easy task.”

I pursed my lips, tilting my head side to side, and shrugged. “A fair point.”

He laughed and gave my forehead a light flick. “I’m trying to be appreciative.” I smiled, settling my arms around his neck and lacing my fingers. “Consider me thoroughly appreciated,” I said, smiling.

“Excuse me?”

Both Yoongi and I turned to see a woman, maybe in her fifties, smiling at us grandly and pointing at the waterfall. “Would you mind taking our photo?” she asked, pointing to a woman around her age, giving us a bashful look.

I smiled and removed my hands from Yoongi’s shoulders. “Of course,” I said, taking the woman’s expensive digital camera from her outstretched fingertips and lining up the shot as she took a spot against the railing beside the other woman.

The two wrapped their arms around each other and met eyes and, in an instant, I felt love. It was as if I was glimpsing something very pure and primal. I wondered in a brief haze of selfishness if other people saw that when Yoongi and I looked at each other. I remembered what Jungkook had said about the way I looked at Yoongi all that time ago. I shook my head a little to gather my thoughts and smiled as the first woman pressed a kiss to the second woman’s cheek.

“One! Two! Three!” I called, holding my fingers out as I counted before snapping the photo.

The first woman came trotting back and stood beside me as I pulled up the photo. The other woman approached as well, both of them staring over each of my shoulders as we reviewed the picture together.

“Oh, Rainy, it’s so pretty!” said the first woman with a light smack to my arm.

I chuckled as the other woman, Rainy, gave me a soft smile. “Thank you,” she said. “Cassandra, shouldn’t we let the happy couple have a photo too?” proposed Rainy.

The first woman, apparently Cassandra, gasped and nodded. “Oh of course! How rude of me. Let me take a picture of you two,” she insisted with a grin.

I glanced over my shoulder at Yoongi and he laughed, shrugging. “Um…sure. Here, let me grab my phone,” I said, pulling my backpack around to my side and digging through it I found the device. “Thank you,” I said as I handed it to Cassandra who shook her head at me, dismissing my gratitude with a wave of her hand.

I waited for Yoongi to catch up to me before walking by his side to the edge of the slab, leaning back against the railing. “What kind of pose do you want to do?” I asked.

He met my eyes with a smile and squinted his eyes as he thought. “V sign?”

“Hm,” I said, my brow furrowing. “Maybe a dumb face? Like this?” I asked, pulling my head backwards slightly to produce layers of extra chins.

Yoongi, upon seeing me that way, let out a booming laugh that flitted around the jungle. I laughed with him, our eyes connected as we tried to fight the giggles. “I like that,” he said, still laughing. “But how about just a nice, simple pose?” he said as he snaked an arm around my waist.

I smiled and nodded. “Alright,” I said, then turned to the women who were smiling fondly our way, staring into the phone together. “We’re ready!” I called, angling my body towards Yoongi’s and wrapping an arm around his waist and placing my free hand on his chest.

“Ready! One!” called Cassandra, flashing her first finger. “Two!” she shouted, and I looked up at Yoongi with a wink. He smiled brighter in response. “Three!”

We reunited with the couple and, before we could review the photos, they were packing their things, ready to leave. Before they made their departure,

Cassandra approached and gave me a pat on the shoulder. “I took a few so you can choose from them,” she said with a smile.

I nodded. “Thank you!” I called as she and Rainy walked back towards the trail. Then, suddenly alone again, I turned to Yoongi. “Wanna look at them?”

He smirked and came around behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder as I opened my photos. The first one to appear was the most recent one, featuring Yoongi and I posing against the lush, vibrant greenery and the rapidly flowing waterfall. I swiped to the right to see the earlier photos, Yoongi’s hands now wrapped around my torso. The next photo was the two of us adjusting our position, me looking at the ground and Yoongi staring handsomely off into the distance. The last one gave me pause and caused my heart to skip. It was the same frame, the same waterfall, the same dripping foliage and white water, but this time we were laughing, staring at each other, not even touching as we shared a private moment. My eyes were glittering, and Yoongi’s smile was so big it shone out against the mossy backdrop. And, in our eyes, I could see it. I could feel it.

It was love.

I flushed. “Yoongi,” I said.

He kissed my cheek from behind and hummed in response. “Yes?”

“I’m happy.”

He laughed and swayed us a little. “Me too,” he said. “Now let’s get going so we can get some food.”

The sun had trailed to the edge of the horizon, settled neatly where the sky and sea touch. Streaks of lilac, navy, and vibrant red rippled out across the water, reflected from the dome of sky above. Yoongi and I sat quietly, each of us resting on the sandy beach on a blanket. We’d spent the afternoon eating and basking in the sunlight. I really began to understand the Motionless Min nickname, as there were times when I had to check his breathing to make sure he was still alive. At one point, I’d asked Yoongi why he hadn’t moved for thirty minutes, just laying on his back in the sand, to which he replied that he was ‘photosynthesizing.’

I sat hugging my knees with a soft smile as the waves came and went, gently lapping at the sand, leaving damp imprints in their place as they receded. The air was warm, and somewhere in the distance I could smell a barbecue. My stomach constricted and offered a low moan. I was grateful to be by the sea, hoping Yoongi may mistake it for a whale’s call and avoid his teasing.

I heard him shuffle at my side, moving around this way and that. Had it finally happened? Had he fallen asleep? Before I could check, something cool was touching my bare arm and I jumped slightly, turning to look at Yoongi with wide eyes. He was sitting upright with an equally surprised expression, in his hand a cling-wrapped roll of kimbap. I furrowed my brow at the thing, then looked back at him.

“Kimbap?” I asked with a smile, musing as he fussed with his fluffy hair.

He shrugged. “I made it last night after you went to sleep. I thought I’d be able to pack my own bag for the hike and surprise you at the waterfall, but you packed for me,” he said, his lips pouted and eyes squinty with drowsiness.

I took the kimbap and unwrapped it, unceremoniously taking a bite to sate my appetite. As I chewed, I held the roll out to Yoongi and he, in turn, took a bite straight from my hand. I laughed. “I’m sorry,” I said.

He met my eyes and shook his head. “Why?”

“For pushing you today and making you feel bad,” I said as I took another bite of kimbap. He’d prepared this the night before, meaning he’d always intended to go on the hike. I pursed my lips. “I think I feel…a little guilty being here.”

He took his bite and chewed quietly. “Mm,” he hummed.

“Some old insecurities are coming up,” I said, meeting his sleepy eyes, his sun-flushed cheeks, his messy hair. “Sometimes I feel like we don’t really understand each other.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You do?”

I nodded slowly. “Just because…I don’t know, the way we grew up, the worlds we were a part of…they’re just really different.”

“Funny,” he said with a soft smile as I chewed. “That’s what I like most about our relationship.”

“Hm?” I asked, surprised.

He shrugged. “We’re different. We have different perspectives,” he said. “That means we can both learn a lot from each other.”

My cheeks warmed. “I guess…I didn’t really think of it that way before.”

“Well, being in an echo-chamber doesn’t really help you grow does it? It’s good to get new perspectives. Like today with you. The hike was a lot more fun than I thought it would be,” he said.

I chuckled. “Well, to be fair just sitting on the beach with you has been really nice too.”

“See?” he said, scooting closer so our thighs touched and taking a hearty bite of kimbap. “We both learned something.”

I nodded, resting my head against his warm shoulder. He chuckled beside me as the kimbap slouched in my hand. “Why do I feel like we’re some campy PBS show or something?” I asked.

“See kids?” he said with a nudge. “Even two people who seem really different can be friends!”

I groaned. “Stop it. You’re ruining Tahiti.”

He laughed boisterously and nodded, ruffling my hair with his cheek. “Hand me the kimbap,” he said, taking the food from my hand and chomping down.

The sky was black and full of uncountable stars, shimmering in the night. The water which I heard splashing the support beams of our cabin was no more than a navy blue mass outside, the peaks of waves sometimes catching the moonlight just right and glittering like a mirror of the stars above. Inside, I could vaguely hear Yoongi humming in the shower. Our hut was filled with warm yellow light, filtering out onto the deck on which I sat, staring once again at my phone. So much had happened that day, so much that I wanted to tell Hana and the others about.

Hana had insisted that we create a group chat for her, Namjoon, Jungkook, and me so we could stay in touch while we all went our own ways. Jungkook in Busan, me in Tahiti, Hana at work, and Namjoon at the company: I had to admit it was a good idea. Although the group chat had been significantly more lively than I’d anticipated, and it was rare that my phone was quiet these days. Tonight, however, I was really grateful for it. I still felt guilty for the privilege of being in such a lavish place, but sharing it with people who couldn’t be here too made me feel a little better. I reached out to the chat in the middle of a conversation about about the best food stall in Hongdae.

Meme Squad: Jungkook: Alright, listen. You can think the tteokbokki place is better, but know that your opinion is inferior and I hate you. Hana: And the hotteok place is better? With their oily-ass sweet bread? You’re wild. Namjoon: Me, an intellectual: the odeng stall is the best. Jungkook: YOU’RE CRIMINALLY INSANE! Hana: YOU’RE NOT EVEN IN THE CITY! Y/N: Wow, hello. Hana: Y/N!! Y/N: Hana!! Hana: How’s Tahiti? Sorry I was crabby this morning lol. Y/N: No I woke you up at the ass-crack of dawn, that’s on me. Y/N: And Tahiti is great! I have a photo to send if you guys want it. Jungkook: I also have a photo! I met up with my friend from Busan today and we went to the beach. Y/N: Oh! What friend? Jungkook: His name is Jimin. We used to play together. Hana: Haha…lame… Namjoon: Jungkook, that sounds fun. Namjoon: And Y/N, I’ve heard Tahiti sunsets are the best! Y/N: They are. We ate kimbap on the beach while watching the sunset. Hana: How…romantic? Y/N: It was nicer than it sounds. Jungkook: Hana why must you hurt me this way? Hana: Idk. For some reason I just wanna bully you. Jungkook: (;¬_¬) Namjoon: Anyway, let’s see Y/N’s photo first, yeah? Y/N: Thank God for Namjoon keeping this group chat on track… Namjoon: Someone has to.

I exited the chat for a moment to flick through my photos. I had pictures of the rainforest from our hike, pictures of Yoongi resting with a towel on his head on the beach, pictures of the sunset. But one photo stood out to me. Yoongi and I, standing against the railing of the concrete viewing slab, the waterfall raging behind us, both of us smiling as we looked at each other. Just seeing the photo caused a swell of warmth to flood through my body.

Y/N: [Image Attached] Hana: Oh my God! THAT’S SO PRETTY WTF!! Y/N: Haha yeah it was really beautiful. Namjoon: That’s a great photo. Y/N: Thank you :’) Jungkook: You guys look really happy. Y/N: We are. Thanks, Kook. Jungkook: ⊂( ・ ̫・)⊃ Hana: Oh my GOD can you stop with those? Y/N: I think they’re kinda cute… Jungkook: Now for my photo. Hana, feel free to not look if you’re gonna drag me. Hana: All the more reason to look… Jungkook: [Image Attached] Jungkook: The guy with the orange hair is Jimin and we went to the beach we used to go to when we were kids. It was really fun! Namjoon: Aw! That looks nice! Y/N: Kook, that’s a great photo. Jungkook: Yeah, I’m thinking about putting it into a portfolio. Y/N: Do it! Jungkook: (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑ Hana: For the love of God, I was about to compliment your picture but you forced my hand… Hana: STOP SENDING THOSE DUMB ASS EMOTICONS I AM REALLY ABOUT TO BUST THIS MUST STOP I WILL KICK YOU FROM THE GC I REALLY WILL YOU MANCHILD LAST WARNING!! Hana: I feel better now. Jungkook: (´;︵;`) Hana: BJKJDNNMRGOIGNK

I chuckled, covering my lips with my hand so as not to disturb any of the other huts nearby and, as I did, I could hear the water shut off inside and quickly stood to my feet, locking my phone and entering the warm cabin as Yoongi emerged from the bathroom with a towel on his head obscuring his face, dressed in his cozy flannel pajamas. He fluffed his hair with the towel, coaxing it to dry, before pulling it off and giving me a bright smile. I walked near him, placing my phone on the small table by our window and crossed my arms in front of him, narrowing my eyes.

“What’s that look about?” he asked with a laugh.

I tilted my head to the side, still staring up at him. “Hm…”

“What?” he whined, tossing his towel in the hamper.

“I’ve decided,” I said.

“Decided what?” he asked, laughing.

I smiled. “Island life suits you. We can’t leave.”

His eyes went wide and then he tossed his head back with laughter. “God, you had me worried.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He was glowing, eyes twinkling, smile bright. “Hey,” I said, raising a hand to his cheek and tracing my finger along his skin. “You got some color!”

“Don’t say that like you’re so surprised,” he mumbled, still smiling.

“I am surprised!” I teased with a laugh. “Here I thought I’d married a ghost, you were so pale.”

“Oh?” he asked, smirking with a sudden glint of mischief in his eyes. “You’re poking fun at me now? Your loving husband?” he asked, quickly grabbing me by the waist and tossing half of my body over his shoulder.

I shouted. “Put me down!” I screamed through laughter.

“No! You said you were gonna throw me into the ocean, now I’m gonna throw you in!” he yelled in response.

But before he could get to the back deck he changed course and tossed me lightly onto the bed with a creak. I laughed as my body bounced a few times before he came tumbling down on top of me. Part of me wondered if he was initiating something, but the second his form collided with mine I knew he was only playing. Because as he hovered over me, he suddenly dropped himself entirely, letting his full weight rest on top of me. He giggled loudly, a high-pitched squeal, as I writhed under him, struggling to free myself.

“Yoongi!” I shouted.

He laughed and spread his arms and legs wide like a starfish. “Take it back!”

“Take what back?”

“Take back what you said about me being a ghost!”

“No!” I shouted, laughing.

He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and glared down at me. “Take it back,” he said, a warning in his tone.

I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing and fought a smile. “Nuh-uh.”

“Y/N,” he said, giving me a stern look.

I shook my head. “Yoongi,” I said, imitating his tone.

He tried to hold it in, but his lips spread in a smile and he sighed, letting his head dip and his damp hairs tickled my nose. “You’re such a brat. Why do I hang out with you?”

“I really don’t know either,” I said, laughing.

He smiled, meeting my eyes and leaning down towards me. I shut my eyes as our lips met and, slowly, my hands smoother over his shoulders to clasp behind his neck. He lowered himself slightly so we could be closer and I bent my arms at the elbows, holding him in place. His lips were hot against mine, and his touches left fiery trails behind them as they trailed my skin, finding the bottom of my tank top and playing with the hem of my shorts.

And then he leaned back, eyes heavy-lidded as he looked down at me. “I love you, you know,” he said, voice low and gravelly.

I smiled and nodded. “I love you too.”

He smiled. “Still not gonna take it back?”

“Nope.”

He rolled his eyes and leaned down to kiss me once more, stretching a hand over my head past my ear to flick off the bedside lamp, plunging our cabin into warm darkness, the sound of waves ushering us into the night.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #yoongi fanfic #bts reactions #bts au #bangtan #arranged bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts scenarios #bts reader insert

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aldmerii-blog · 6 years

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bitch u know i want all of those answered for shaelle. i ain’t ever gonna stop loving you or her. bitch

aubren i would literally go to war for u.

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?

im boutta give her a bunch of middle names to upp the fancy meter here we go

so her full as name. the name she signs on Official Documents. is Lady Shaelle Alihanna Amoniel Erunae Dasyra

her middle names are the names of prominent ancestors, because her mom’s Like That. both her siblings are named after ancestors too. her first name translates roughly to “increased happiness”.

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?

Master Wizard of the Luniac, Heir to the Third Advisory to the Crown of Serin Ilyan.

master wizard is the title she got for graduating. the luniac (academy) is a prestigious school in the city.

and her family holds an advisory position to the queen. sort of like a cabinet? when she inherits the position it’ll change to Third Adviser to the Crown.

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

her childhood was very happy! idyllic, even. she was a leeeetle bit of a spoiled brat. she really really didn’t take to being told “no” and her parents weren’t hands-on raising her, she had nannies. and her nannies kind of gave up fighting with her. it wasn’t their money, anyway!

anyway. her favorite memories are times spent with her brothers, particularly sundemar! he’s closer to her in age than sylvar is (i can’t remember how much older than her sylvar is, but sundemar is two years younger). she was the brains, sundemar the brawn, and they got up to all sorts of trouble.

bad memories... one time her dad hit her but that’s about it.

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?

HA. distant, i guess. her mom treats her more like a colleague and she doesn’t talk to her father even though they all live together.

good memory w/ pollae was when shaelle graduated. pollae was so legitimately proud of her and straight said so. bad memory was seeing her mother cry when sylvar got arrested.

good memory with her father was uhhhhhhhhh. visiting her paternal grandma when she was very very young, before she died. bad memory is every other minute with him.

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

two siblings! sundemar, younger brother. sylvar, older brother. she was very very very close to sylvar. he was her friend and confidant. sundemar was close to her when they were kids but they’ve grown apart since she started school. now she doesn’t really talk to him and she CAN’t talk to sylvar because he’s in PRISON.

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

she was teacher’s pet. she loved it. she graduated with highest honors and there is literally no further “schooling” she could have -- she’d just have to do research on her own from now on.

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?

she was friends, at least loosely, with most of her parents’ colleagues’ children, and she’s run in those same circles ever since. she doesn’t have many close friends, though.

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?

no, no, well enough. she’s not averse to having pets but her mom hates them, and since she still lives with her mom. yknow.

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

dkjlfs not really. she’s a little nervous around animals and i think they can sense that. she’s okay with relaxed animals like. cats.

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?

she likes kids a lot! i think kids like her? she has a sort of caring maternal presence and she does very fun magic tricks. she very much wants kids.

i think she’d struggle with being a parent, at least at first. because she doesn’t have anyone to model her own parenting after. but i think al and al’s mother especially help her fall into it better. she’s very encouraging and supportive but she is terrible at saying no.

11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies?

nope! she eats most vegetarian but that’s mostly a cultural thing.

12. What is their favourite food?

heavily spiced curry.

13. What is their least favourite food?

Cucumber Sandwiches.

14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal?

a picnic with her brothers as a tween. laying under a leafy trellis on a blanket, with the sound of the ocean’s dull roar somewhere in the distance. eating dates and hummus and little cakes.

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

she’s never had to cook in her entire life. and she is atrocious. she can, like, dice carrots or whatever. but that’s it. she just straight up don’t cool for people. she’ll pay someone else to do it.

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?

perfume! she has hundreds of bottles of perfume. she has her favorites on her vanity and the rest in a glass case in her closet.

17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos?

if she took photos, they’d be either selfies of her with acquaintances or of parties. maybe som like studyblr type photos. and she’d been an instagram queen.

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

she either reads nonfiction hard science books or epic poetry. and music...she’s not really into. poetic ballads.

19. What’s their least favourite genres?

uhhhh thriller/whodunnits

20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when they’re favourite song comes?

no, no, not really. she’ll hum along to a song she knows.

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

OH BOY DOES SHE. she does not take kindly to being disrespected, especially. like there aren’t a lot of things that piss her off but she has a short fuse on the things that do. and she. usually will get violent. if she can’t hurt you directly she’ll find some way to ruin ur fucking life.

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

usually insults that imply someone is stupid/foolish. idiot, fool, etc. sometimes dumbass if she’s feeling vulgar. and it’s usually because they did something stupid. but she doesn’t often insult people directly to their faces.

23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?

she has a pretty good memory! she can remember names a lot better than faces. she’s better at. like. facts and dates and shit than people.

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

midnight to 9am, pretty constantly. she does not snore, but she does sometimes mumble in her sleep. and she sleeps. on a big ol canopy bed on imported linen sheets. and she absolutely sleeps on a featherbed.

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

she’s a witty banter kind o gal. but i think she laughs easily at what other people say. she’s not particularly funny.

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

she’s not super expressive. she’d probs smile more easily or even laugh more but that’s about it. unless she’s around someone she likes, then she’s open and giddy and giggly.

27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?

she cries real easily, but she usually tries to keep that hidden. listen my sweet girl gets overwhelmed really easily because she never learned how to deal with her emotions in a healthy way so she just cries.

28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

she’s really afraid of making bad decisions. she’s afraid people will get hurt because of her. or that she’ll do something so bad she gets disinherited and leaves her family with sundemar as its heir. yknow.

also zombies.

29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective?

she tries to comfort people, usually. or explain why they shouldn’t be afraid. that kind of thing.

30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?

dude you couldn’t convince shaelle to exercise. she does not like being sweaty. she goes on walks sometimes but that is It.

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

NO. jfdls no she does not drink. she doesn’t trust herself to. her brother’s an alcoholic and she’s afraid she’ll get addicted too and she’s not willing to risk it. though she does take care of drunks when she comes to them.

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

She’s Fancee. big skirts, ruffles, embroidery, sewn in pearls. all her clothes are custom made. she mostly wears up-to-date fashions. to sleep, she has a selection of ruffly nightgowns. she wears “”natural”” makeup, designed to make her look prettier without being noticeable. and her hair is wavy and silky and she does a lot with it -- it’s very cooperative.

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?

f. fantasy underwear? modern!shaelle would wear cute little lacy undies. matching bras always.

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?

pear shape! she got Hips n Thighs. narrow-ish shoulders and small tiddies. (ok not small like a comfortable b cup). she’s about 5′5. and she doesn’t hate her body. she wishes she was shaped less like a human but what can ya do.

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?

human food is guilty pleasure. dancing is unguilty.

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

she’s. hm. a good wizard. and smart. but she doesn’t really have any hobbies or talents. come to think of it she’d probably be self-conscious about that.

37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction?

she loves reading! she’s a fast reader. either poetry or non-fiction. she doesn’t read a lot of fictional prose.

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

people who are charismatic/good with people. bravery, loyalty. also people who have any talent with musical instruments, because she’s pretty rubbish.

39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging?

she writes letters but modern!shaelle would write emails fjkdsl.

40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert?

she drinks caffeinated tea in the morning. and she really likes sweet food. but generally she’s fine to stay up without it.

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

she’s uhhhh bi i guess? she likes people who are tall. stronk, usually. she really likes intelligent and kind people. but she is Not Picky. ideally she /needs/ someone who supports and encourages her and attends to her emotionally stunted ass but she rarely gets it.

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

survival basically? look basically she’s on a path she’d rather not be on with no way out. if you’d asked her at sixteen what her goals are, she would have told you she wants to travel and study magic and maybe teach, once she gets old enough. and she’d still love to do that. but she’s got a noble house to run now so she’s just. gonna do that.

43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?

nooo. she. thinks it’s foolish and pointless, and religious people fools. she’s not mean about it and won’t say anything on it unless you try to preach to her.

44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?

spring! warm sunny spring days! she complains about the heat more than anything else but that’s because she wears heavy clothing. even her lightest clothes are heavier than they should be.

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

uhhhh I don’t think so? i would think people who know who she is would be a little intimidated by her. she’s very smart and marginally powerful. but she sees herself as weak and foolish and ineffectual so!

46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?

she usually makes a? pretty good first impression? among peers, at least. mostly by virtue of her manners and title, because she introduces herself by letting everyone know she’s a master wizard and is gonna have the queen’s ear in a decade so like. lol.

47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?

She Loves Fancy Parties. that’s one thing she’d miss about being an academic, less opportunity to dress up and be better than other people. but yeah she loves getting dolled up and dancing and gossiping.

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?

fancy parties, tea parties, dinner parties, galas, etc. she both hosts and attends, but never without being invited. and she’s very well-mannered and good at making party small-talk.

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

she’s. pretty sentimental. she still has all of sylvar’s books, even though they are of no interest to her. she has a necklace he gave her for her last birthday w him that she wears a lot, but not always.

50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials?

HH. a book, paper, ink, pen, toothbrush, soap, perfume, change of clothes, magical focus.

#fingersinhisass #Gosh Golly Gee I Sure Love My Wife.#fjdklsf ;thank u!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#carly tells tales #carly's ocs #oc: shaelle

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