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thefinalcinderella · 3 years

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Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 10 - Shooting Star (Part 1)

We finally made it...we’re in the endgame now...

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. My Grandfather’s Clock is a popular song written by Henry Clay Work in 1876. The 2002 version by Ken Hirai was especially popular in Japan

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January 3rd, 5 a.m.

Yuki was in a dimly lit room in the Ashihara Ryokan. He changed into his Kansei University uniform and jersey and picked up his bench coat.

Two hours had already passed since Yuki woke up. After breakfast and a bath courtesy of the ryokan that took place at a time that could be better called late night, Yuki returned to the room where he had spent the night once the food in his stomach digested properly.

It was a night where he wasn’t sure if he had slept or not. However, his mind was clear and lucid. Excitement and tension became sharp blades that pared his body, and he felt somewhat light.

My energy is high, Yuki thought. He had felt the same way when he passed the bar exam. He read the questions for the essay exam and wrote his answer. It was almost funny how the meaning of the questions soaked into his brain, and before he could even think about how to answer them, the answer sheet was filled with words; it was just like automatic writing. He had never been able to output so smoothly what had been inputted into him until that moment, as though his consciousness had become clear and his sixth sense was working.

He knew that the same moment of elation and focus was about to visit his body and mind.

The return leg of the Hakone Ekiden started at 8 a.m. Yuki would slowly warm up over the next three hours, in order to build up his energy levels. It was Yuki’s method to relax and relieve his nervousness for two hours, and then concentrate on warming up for the remaining hour. Ever since the time when he was confronting his bar exam, Yuki preferred to increase the intensity of his concentration at this pace.

The six-mat guest room was completely occupied by the three futons laid out on the floor. Shindou, wearing his mask, was breathing faintly in his sleep. Yuki gently put his hand on his forehead and found it was still a little hot. The landlord was grinding his teeth as he slept soundly.

Yuki lightly folded his futon and put it in a corner so as to not wake them. Standing by the window, he quietly pulled back the curtains: the cozy garden of the ryokan was covered with a light dusting of snow, and ashy snowflakes continued to fall from the dark sky.

Yuki had never been skiing before. He didn’t understand going to the trouble of sticking boards to your feet in a cold place in a cold season. He thought it would be better to spend that time on one’s studies, and more than that, living with a single mother, they had no money to spend on fun.

Can I run down a steep, snow-covered slope? I can’t say I don’t want to run in the sixth leg at this point. Should I have at least experienced skiing if it’s like this?

The window was immediately fogged up by Yuki’s breath. The room was slightly warm from Yuki, Shindou and the landlord's combined body heat.

It’s not just me, Yuki reminded himself. In the past few years, there has never been snow on the roads of Hakone at New Year’s. Most of the runners—no, maybe all of them—have never gone down the mountain roads of Hakone covered in snow. Everyone lacks experience. I can run. I can run.

Chanting that in his mind as though to convince himself, Yuki picked up Kansei’s sash from the alcove. It seemed to still be damp from absorbing the sweat of the five people who had run in the outbound leg.

After carefully folding the sash and putting it in his jersey pocket, Yuki quietly left the guest room.

He walked through the corridor to the front door and saw the ryokan’s proprietress holding a newspaper.

“Oh, you’ve already changed?”

“Yes. I’ll be warming up from now on.”

“Outside?” Looking at the still-dark front of the building, the proprietress furrowed her brow in concern. “It’s minus five degrees right now.”

Yuki had planned to go outside, but he quickly changed his mind. He would have to wait until the temperature rose a little, or his muscles would stiffen up from the cold.

“May I borrow this space?”

He pointed at the empty lobby, and the proprietress graciously said, “By all means.

“Do you want to read the paper? I asked them to deliver it earlier today.”

While reading the newspaper, Yuki sat down on the floor of the lobby and began to stretch. He exhaled and began to relax his muscles and joints.

The paper had a big spread on the outbound leg of the Hakone Ekiden. Bousou University won the outbound leg by a narrow margin. It was a close race where it was impossible to tell if Rikudou University would make a comeback in the return leg, or which school would take the overall victory.

There was also a mention of Kansei under the headline “A Challenge with Only Ten People”. There was a photo of Shindou, unsteady and desperately trying to run on the mountain roads. Yuki opened his legs and brought his upper body down while reading the article.

“With only ten members, Kansei University unexpectedly put on the brakes in the fifth leg. They dropped down drastically in the rankings and ended the outbound leg in eighteenth place. However, with ace runners such as Kurahara, a freshman, and Kiyose, a fourth-year, in the return leg, there are still plenty of opportunities for a comeback. All eyes will be on the development of this small team’s great challenge.”

At the end of the article, there was a signature (布). It’s Nunoda-san, Yuki thought. The reporter Nunoda, who had come to Lake Shirakaba during summer vacation, had continued to keep an eye on Kansei.

There are still more than enough opportunities. We believe that, but it’s reassuring to have a third party say so as well. Yuki put the newspaper on the rack in the lobby and silently worked on stretching.

It was 6 when Shindou appeared in the lobby. He was wearing Musa’s bench coat and a mask. “Good morning,” he said in a hoarse voice, and pushed on Yuki’s back to help him stretch.

“You should be sleeping.”

“I asked Musa to give me a wake-up call because I knew you would be thoughtful like that.” Shindou sat down next to Yuki. “It’s snowing.”

“Yeah.”

The two watched the fluttering snow through the lobby window.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good. What about you?”

“I’m feeling much better.”

Yuki began doing sit-ups. Shindou lightly held his ankles still.

“To tell you the truth,” Yuki murmured, “I’m getting uncomfortably nervous. I want to run away, if I could.”

“I was the same way,” Shindou laughed under his mask. “Why don’t you try listening to some music? I took it from your luggage without asking.”

Yuki took the iPod Shindou gave him and put the earphones in his ears. He listened to his favorite songs for a while, but today, the world of sound was no comfort to Yuki.

“It’s no use.” Yuki tore out his earphones. “When I’m running, it feels like music I don’t like is playing through my head incoherently and endlessly. And it’s music that you can’t even get into! Like My Grandfather’s Clock (1) and stuff like that!”

“You hate it?”

“I don’t like irritating things.”

“I think it’s a good song, though,” Shindou said, and Yuki stood up with a “hmph.” Looking up at Yuki, who was rotating his ankles, Shindou made a suggestion.

“No matter what song plays in your head, you can always arrange it so it’s up-tempo.”

“Shindou, you’re amazing.” Yuki was deeply impressed. “I’m filled with worries. All I can think about are bad things like, what if I fall down the slope, or what if my shoelaces get torn off.”

“Yuki-senpai, you can even aim for the sectional prize.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because you’ve always accomplished what you said you would do. Whether it’s the bar exam or the Hakone Ekiden, you said you’ll do it, and you did.” Only Shindou’s eyes were smiling. “So say it this time too. That you’re aiming for the sectional prize.”

As though pushed by Shindou’s quiet force, Yuki said, “I am.”

“Yes, then it’s fine now. You will definitely run a good time.”

Yuki looked down at Shindou, who was nodding in satisfaction, and couldn’t help but laugh.

“I know how useless I was yesterday,” Yuki said. “I knew you were experiencing this pressure before the race, but I couldn’t support you like this.”

“No matter how much support I get, in the end, I’m the only one who can bounce back from the pressure.” Shindou also stood and prompted Yuki. “Let’s jog.” The two put on their shoes at the door and went outside. There was no sign of the sunrise anywhere, but birds were singing in the mountains. The fine snow felt dry against their cheeks.

“But yesterday, you stayed by my side until the very last moment before I started running, Yuki-senpai. That gave me a lot of strength.” Shindou pulled down his mask and breathed in the cold air. “That’s why, I’ll stay with you today. I’ll stay with you until you start.”

Yuki didn’t have any words to respond. He was simply happy, and watched Shindou put his mask back on.

“We’ll freeze if we stay in one spot. Let’s run.”

“By the way, how’s the landlord?”

“He said he’s going to take a morning bath.”

“He’s in a sightseeing mood, that person.”

“His nighttime teeth grinding was very loud, wasn’t it?”

They chatted about trifling things as they jogged, and Yuki and Shindou's white breaths flowed shakily along the dark, snowy lakeside path.

---

Kakeru was feeling restless.

Kiyose was acting strange. When Kakeru invited him to go jogging after breakfast, he refused, saying, “Go ahead. I’ve got a lot of calls to make.”

It’s definitely strange that Haiji-san didn’t do his morning jog. He didn’t seem to sleep well last night either. I wonder if his leg hurts.

After running around Yokohama Station for about thirty minutes, Kakeru decided to go back to the hotel. He could still warm up at the relay station. He had never cut a jog short before, no matter how sick he was, but right now he was worried about Kiyose. He wondered if he was planning on pushing himself too hard. As if spurred on by a bad premonition, Kakeru ran back to the hotel.

In the lobby of the small business hotel, Jouji was opening a sports newspaper while watching the weather forecast on TV. Noticing Kakeru running across the lobby and pushing the button for the elevator, he came up to him and said, “You’re early.

“Your jogging time was unusually short today.”

“Where’s Haiji-san?”

“I think he’s in his room. Prince-san and Hana-chan are organizing their luggage together. I was chased away. I can sense that he’s trying to keep me away from Hana-chan.” Jouji pouted in dissatisfaction, but Kakeru wasn’t listening anymore. He rode the elevator to the fifth floor. “What’s going on?” Jouji asked as he followed him.

Kansei had three rooms: Kakeru and Kiyose’s room was at the far end of the corridor, Jouji and Prince’s was next to theirs, and Hanako’s room was near the elevator.

After exiting the elevator, Kakeru passed a man in the hallway. He was in his late thirties and carrying a large black bag in his hand. Thinking that it looked like a house call bag, Kakeru turned around with a start. The doors to the elevator the man got into were just about to close.

That wasn’t a guest just now. That was a doctor. Kakeru had a hunch. He must be the doctor who came to examine Haiji-san’s leg.

“Haiji-san!”

Kiyose was sitting by the window near the two beds. He looked up in surprise at Kakeru’s menacing attitude, and Kakeru sprang at him.

“Let me see your leg, let me see it!”

Kiyose fell down onto the bed, pushed by the momentum. Kakeru didn’t care and tried to pull up the cuff of Kiyose’s track pants.

“Just calm down, Kakeru! I’ll explain!”

Jouji was standing in the doorway of their room, watching in amazement as Kakeru and Kiyose grappled with each other. Noticing the commotion, Prince and Hanako came out of the room next door.

When Hanako asked, “What’s this all about?” Jouji tilted his head to the side.

“Uh, I have no idea.”

Kiyose finally pulled Kakeru off of him and beckoned everyone in the doorway to come in. The group that had stayed in Yokohama gathered in the room and sat down on the beds and chairs of their choice.

“Haiji-san, there was a doctor in this room a while ago, wasn’t there?” Kakeru sat on the bed and questioned Kiyose.

“There was,” Kiyose admitted as though he could see that there was no way out of this. “It was the doctor who always examines me. I asked him to make a house call and he gave me some painkillers.”

“The leg you said you injured—did it not heal?” Prince asked in shock. Jouji and Hanako had never even heard that Kiyose was injured, and they looked at each other in disbelief.

“What are you going to do?” It was all Kakeru could do not to let his voice tremble.

“Of course I’m running.”

“Are you okay with being so reckless?”

“If I’m not going to be reckless now, then when?”

“If…” Kakeru hesitated to put it into words. He was afraid that if he said it aloud, it would become reality.

“What if you can’t run for the rest of your life because of your recklessness today?”

He saw Jouji gasp and Prince hanging his head. Hanako didn’t move, only watching the course of Kiyose and Kakeru’s exchange.

Kakeru stared fixedly at Kiyose and waited for a response.

“It would be very painful,” Kiyose’s voice was quiet, and Kakeru knew that he had been thinking about that for a long time already. “But I won’t regret it.”

There’s no stopping him, Kakeru thought. If he were in Kiyose’s position, he would still choose to run.

Kakeru made up his mind. If that’s the case, then there’s only one thing I can do: to put as little burden on Haiji-san as possible, I should gain as much time as I can in the ninth leg.

The silence that enveloped the room was broken by Kiyose's phone ringing. He hung up after a short conversation.

“That was Shindou. The final entries were announced at Lake Ashi. Just as expected, Rikudou put Fujioka in the ninth leg.”

Jouji looked at Kakeru with both anticipation and worry in his eyes. “Okay,” Kakeru murmured. Blood was rushing through his body, and his heart was beating with joy and a fighting spirit; the day had come when they could finally compete in the same place. At the TSU meet in spring, he had only chased Fujioka’s back, but it was finally time to test how fast and strong he had become since then.

“Kakeru, don’t lose the race,” Kiyose said. Kakeru nodded determinedly.

It was past 7 in the morning.

They had to leave the hotel now. From now on, they were to split up: Kakeru and Jouji were going to the Totsuka relay station; Kiyose and Prince were going to the Tsurumi relay station; Hanako was going to Otemachi, the finish line.

“Are you okay with Jouji attending you? I can go with you, if you’d like,” Prince asked Kakeru, but he didn’t understand the intention of his question at all.

“Why? It’s fine as we planned.”

Even though his generous consideration was turned down, Prince didn’t seem offended at all, instead laughing and shaking his head lightly as though to say, “Good grief.”

When they reached the Yokohama Station premises, Kiyose said to Kakeru, “About what you said earlier.

“The situation isn’t as serious as you think. The painkillers are working, and I’m not beyond recovery.”

“Is that really true?”

“Have I ever lied?”

“Quite a lot.”

Kiyose frowned at the sky for a few moments, seemingly recalling his past acts.

“Don’t worry. I’m telling the truth this time,” he smiled. “I’m looking forward to seeing you run at Tsurumi.”

He felt like he wanted to say something to Kiyose—his gratitude, worry, and determination. But they were feelings that would never take shape no matter how many words he spent on them, so Kakeru only said, “I’ll hand you the sash not a second late.”

The group raised their hands a little to say goodbye, and then headed up the stairs to the platform to go to their respective places.

---

8 a.m.

As the starting gun sounded from Lake Ashi, the Bousou runner started running first. One minute and thirty-nine seconds later, the Rikudou runner followed.

One after another, the runners from each school left Lake Ashi with their sashes, with a time difference reflecting the times they had finished at Lake Ashi in the outbound leg. This time, the return leg of the Hakone Ekiden was beginning, heading for Otemachi, Tokyo.

Schools with more than ten minutes of difference from the outbound leg leader, Bousou, would start together ten minutes after Bousou began the return leg. In this year’s race, five schools had to start at the same time: the federation selected team, Eurasia University, Kansei University, Tokyo Gakuin University, and Shinsei University.

Kansei had a time difference of eleven minutes and fifty-three seconds with Bousou. Even though they would start the race simultaneously after ten minutes, the extra one minute and fifty-three seconds would not be discarded and would be automatically added to their overall time. Because of the simultaneous start, the visible order in which the runners were running and their orders by their times might differ from each other for the return leg.

In the return leg, especially for lower ranked teams, the competitors must not only look at the race’s development before their eyes, but also keep in mind the complicated time calculation, and try to fight calmly to raise their actual rankings as much as possible.

I’m made for this, Yuki thought. Rather than competing against others, he preferred to think about how to achieve his goals by developing countermeasures and how to show off his abilities while doing that. The sixth leg of the Hakone Ekiden, the mountain descent, suited his personality; he didn’t have to be misled by the apparent rankings, he just had to use his skills to run down the winding slope against the invisible enemy called time.

Just as he had declared, Shindou stayed by Yuki’s side the entire time before his departure. He helped him stretch, massaged his calves to prevent them from stiffening up in the cold, and conversed with him casually. Thanks to him, Yuki was able to calm his mind and focus on the race.

When the time came to set off, Yuki took off his bench coat and left it with Shindou. The temperature at Lake Ashi was minus three degrees Celsius. There was still powder snow in the air. The road surface was covered in snow and the ruts were frozen. Even with a long-sleeved T-shirt under his uniform, there was no way to prevent the cold from pressing down on him. The lack of wind was the only saving grace.

Jounan Bunka University was the last team that was able to start according to its time difference with Bousou. After being called by the staff member, the teams hurriedly lined up at the start line to start simultaneously.

Yuki looked at the crowd of people next to him. Shindou was almost swallowed up by the waves of spectators, but he was watching Yuki firmly.

“We’ll meet at Otemachi,” Yuki said. It might not have reached him, having gotten lost in the cheers, but Shindou was nodding.

Ten seconds after Jounan Bunka, the runners from the five teams started running at the same time on cue. Yuki’s glasses immediately fogged up from his body heat, but he soon regained his clear vision thanks to the cold wind blowing.

The road surface was covered with a thin layer of snow, making it nerve-wracking to even walk on flat surfaces, but running on it, there was no time to check your footing. Every step he took, the sherbet-like snowflakes bounced off his legs. Even the lightest shoes with the latest features couldn’t prevent the soles from slipping slightly as they kicked the surface.

The first four kilometers from the lakeside road to the highest point of Route 1 were mostly uphill. Of the five teams that had started at the same time, Eurasia was in front and Yuki didn’t hesitate to follow him. When he checked his watch at the first kilometer, his pace was less than three minutes and twenty seconds.

On the way up, he was a little too fast considering the poor road conditions. But if he didn’t go all out here, then there was no way Kansei would be able to improve their ranking in the return leg. Besides, Yuki thought, among the runners assigned to the sixth leg, the Rikudou runner was the only one who has a record of twenty-eight minutes for the ten-thousand meter. In other words, the runners in the sixth leg don’t put much emphasis on speed.

From the highest point to the town of Hakone-Yumoto, almost the entire sixth leg was downhill. Even if your time on flat surfaces wasn’t good, you could still go fast on the downhill if you gathered momentum. What was important was the dexterity to change your running style depending on the ups and downs, a sense of physical balance, and the boldness to run downhill without fear.

Even if he entered the first uphill slope at a somewhat fast pace, he would be able to conserve enough stamina. With this judgement, Yuki didn’t recoil.

They left the lakeside and headed up the path towards the mountains. There was one small up-and-down right before the highest point. As they approached the first descent, Yuki looked at his watch again. Kiyose had instructed him to run at a pace of three minutes and twenty seconds per kilometer on the way up, but he was now going at a pace of three minutes and fifteen seconds per kilometer.

I can do it. He was convinced. His body felt light and he was able to asjust his footwork according to the ups and downs without even thinking about it.

Tokyo Gakuin University and Shinsei University were already about to be shaken off from the lower-ranked group, which was now composed of six schools as it had absorbed Jounan Bunka, who had departed ahead of them.

All Yuki could think about was overtaking as many schools as possible in front of him. The cold didn’t bother him anymore. He climbed to the highest point in one go.

The downhill slope, which stretched for nearly fifteen kilometers, awaited him, meandering on and on beyond the falling snow.

---

“Isn’t he going too fast?”

Watching the portable TV, Kakeru arrived at the Totsuka relay station with Jouji. The screen showed Yuki and the others passing in front of the main gate of the Flower Center, the five-kilometer marker.

“But I heard that the normal pace for the sixth leg is five kilometers in around thirteen minutes?” Jouji said in his usual carefree way, but it didn’t ease Kakeru’s concerns. It was the pace after you got into the descent in earnest—it was hard even for a runner himself to hold back his speed once he was completely going downhill. Once your body got into the rhythm of the descent, it wasn’t impossible to run down a hundred meters in fifteen seconds. In the sixth leg, despite the long distance of 20.7 kilometers, the speed in some places was comparable to that of a short distance run.

However, even though the first five kilometers were uphill and the road conditions weren’t good, he was running in sixteen minutes. Even with Yuki’s running ability, it seemed to Kakeru that this was clearly an excessive pace.

“I’ll call Haiji-san.”

Kakeru took out his phone from his jacket pocket.

“You worry too much,” Jouji said, shrugging a little.

“Yes, this is Kiyose.” The phone immediately relayed Kiyose’s voice along with the bustle from outside. It seemed that he had already arrived at the Tsurumi relay station.

“Are you listening to the radio?”

“Prince’s phone has a TV function. He also found out about it just now. We’re watching it. It’s amazing what you can do with a cell phone these days.”

“Yes. No, not about that…” Prince’s slow pace and Kiyose’s hopelessness with technology made Kakeru feel dizzy. “Isn’t Yuki-senpai running a little too fast?”

“Yeah. I would call the landlord, but there’s no point—the coach cars don’t stay close to the runners on the mountain roads of Hakone.”

“What should we do?”

“There’s nothing we can do. The rest is the descent. It would be foolish to slow down now, so we can only pray that Yuki doesn’t slip and fall,” Kiyose let out a light laugh, as though he had gotten over all his worries. “Anyways Kakeru, make sure to jog and warm up properly. I have to get in touch with Nico-chan-senpai and King now, so we’ll talk later.”

The call ended, and Kakeru let out a sigh.

“I told you it’s fine,” Jouji took the phone from Kakeru. “You need to trust us a little more.”

“Trust, huh,” Kakeru began to rotate his ankles and prepare for a jog. “Come to think of it, Katsuta-san said that too.”

“H-Hana-chan?” Jouji immediately turned red. “Why are you bringing up Hana-chan?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Are you doing that on purpose or are you really that airheaded?” Growing impatient with Kakeru’s pointless reply, Jouji turned to him again. “Hey, you know, I like Hana-chan.”

“I know.”

“You know!? How?”

“Nico-chan-senpai said it on the phone yesterday.”

Even when we’re apart from each other, we can still be overheard just as well as when we’re in Chikusei-sou, Jouji grumbled.

“What about you, Kakeru?” He asked the question he wanted to ask the most: “Is it okay if I confess to Hana-chan?”

Why do you need to check with me for that? It seems that the residents of Chikusei-sou are convinced that I like Katsuta-san. Kakeru, pondering up to that point, felt a jolt to his heart like the feeling of falling during the first stage of sleep.

I like Katsuta-san.

It was partly because he was so dense that he couldn’t even laugh at the twins, but it was a feeling that had been in his heart so quietly and naturally that he hadn’t been aware of it until now.

Kakeru had always kept Hanako’s figure carefully in his memory. The color of her scarf on the night they walked together. The profile of her face when she watched them train under the sky where summer clouds were rising. The first time he saw her, her thin back as she pedalled her bike through the shopping district.

Kakeru was looking at Hanako. And all that time, her eyes and thoughts were solely on the twins.

“Now I get it.”

Kakeru was shocked at his feelings that had finally become clear.

“…What are you talking about?” Jouji nervously asked, seemingly thinking that it was creepy how he had suddenly zoned and then nodded to himself.

“No,” Kakeru shook his head. “I think you should just confess to her.”

It wasn’t an act of bravado, but a feeling of clarity. He was sure that Hanako would be happy to know Jouji’s feelings. Perhaps she would be equally pleased with a confession from Jouta, and there might be a quarrel there. But that wasn’t Kakeru’s business.

This wasn’t a competition. Hanako’s heart belonged to her. Jouji’s heart belonged to him as well. It was the same as how Kakeru’s heart only belonged to him. It was a domain that was free from all standards and measures, something no one could steal or bend.

It was satisfying to know that there was a gentle but strong feeling within him that had nothing to do with speed or victory or defeat. Hanako, who taught him those feelings, seemed more and more important to him. Kakeru would be happy if her love was realized.

Also, I’m used to long-distance running. I’m good at patiently waiting for an opportunity. Even if Hanako has feelings for the twins right now, you can’t state definitively that it’ll be forever.

“I see, I guess it’s better to tell her. Uwah, what should I do, I’m so nervous.”

Jouji was determined to confess his feelings to Hanako without any hesitation, not realizing that Kakeru, who was patient when it came to the important things, was chewing on his first realization of love like a ruminating cow.

---

Yuki was smoothly descending the mountain.

In the beginning, he tried to run on the ruts because he was afraid of slipping on the frozen snow, but then he couldn’t steer a good course through the turns. Too much concern about slipping would cause him to put pressure on his muscles, which would make it all come to nothing. In the end, Yuki decided to run and take the course as usual.

Running downhill is fun, Yuki thought. To be able to feel such acceleration with my own body. His speed was so fast that even the soft snowflakes hitting his face from the front hurt like pebbles. While balancing with his whole body, he followed the slope as it led him forward. His fear of falling down didn’t cross his mind at all in the face of the pleasure of speed.

The front of Kowakien was the ten-kilometer point of the sixth leg. It was also a TV relay point. Even though the weather was bad and it was early in the morning, there were spectators along the roadside cheering for them. Following the Eurasia runner, Yuki turned to the right, and he could hear the watery footsteps of the Shinsei runner right behind him.

Yuki, of course, had no way of knowing, but the announcer and the commentator Yanaka were watching the live feed and commentating on the running of the athletes from each school.

“The footage of the lower-ranked teams at the ten-kilometer mark is coming in. What do you think, Yanaka-san?”

“They’re going at quite a fast pace. I thought that the section prize for the sixth leg would go to Manaka, who is steadily improving their rank from twelfth place, but there is a possibility that it will go to one of the lower-ranked teams.”

“According to the data at hand, except for Tamura-kun of Rikudou, all the runners in the sixth leg have an official record in the twenty-nine-minute range for the ten-thousand meters.”

“When it comes to the mountain descent, the time on flat surfaces is not that important. If you can run ten-thousand meters in the twenty-nine-minute range, then the rest is all down to guts.”

“Guts, you say?”

“Yes. The speed and incline the runners experience is much more than what you see on the screen. It’s like pedalling a bike down a steep slope with both hands free. And today, the footing isn’t good. It’s crucial to calmly keep your balance and have the guts to keep your momentum going.”

“Which of the lower-ranked teams do you think is closest to the section prize?”

“I still don’t know yet, but I like Iwakura-kun of Kansei. He has a very stable lower body. His upper body doesn’t sway unnecessarily, and he doesn’t flinch from running down bad roads at all. He is an excellent example of how to run downhill.”

“I see. The rest would depend on their persistence when the road becomes flat after Hakone-Yumoto. They've passed the ten-kilometer TV relay point.”

As they descended in altitude, the snow turned into sleet mixed with rain and the road became covered with a sherbet-like muck. Yuki realized that he had crossed the width of the crosswalk in two steps.

The current crosswalk was probably four meters wide. If he had crossed it in two steps, then that meant he had gone two meters in one step. Yuki was once again shocked at himself—his acceleration was incredible. He had gained momentum and was literally running as if he were flying, and his stride was widening as a result. He glanced at his watch: for the past five kilometers, he had been running downhill at a pace of two minutes and forty seconds.

One kilometer in two minutes and forty seconds. It was a time Yuki couldn’t achieve on flat ground. As far as he knew, the only person who could sustain such a pace for five kilometers on level ground was Kakeru.

The branches of the cedar trees on the roadside were piled with pure white snow. The trunks were black and wet, and the mountains had been transformed overnight into a beautiful, monochromatic world. As soon as they appeared in the corner of his eye, they streamed backwards, smoother and faster than in a movie.

So, this is the world Kakeru normally experiences. Yuki had a lump in his throat.

Kakeru, you’re in a very lonely place, aren’t you? The wind rumbles loudly in your ears, and all the scenery passes by you in an instant. It feels so good that I never want to stop running, but it’s a world you can only experience alone.

For the first time, he understood why Kakeru was so devoted to running, sometimes to the point of overdoing it. If Yuki were allowed to run at such a speed, he would certainly indulge in it like an addict. He wanted to see the world in quicker, even more beautiful instants. Perhaps that was a momentary experience, almost like an eternity. However, it was too dangerous—it was a world that was too beautiful, too harsh to challenge with a flesh and blood body.

Now I’m just looking at the gate that would lead me there from a distance, with the help of the mountain roads of Hakone, Yuki thought. He knew that he wouldn’t get any closer.

Dragged in by Kiyose’s enthusiasm, Yuki’s life had been centered around running for the past year. But that life was coming to an end today. I have my own way of life. I don’t want to aim for momentary beauty and exaltation, sharpening my mind and body day after day. I want to choose to live among people, even if I’m covered in filth. That’s why I passed the bar and am trying to become a lawyer.

Today’s the end. But I’m glad I experienced this speed for the first and last time. Yuki smiled slightly as he sped along the mountain road. Kakeru, don’t go too far. What you’re aiming for is a beautiful place, but it’s lonely and quiet. So much that it doesn’t suit a living person.

It would be nice if there’s something to tie Kakeru’s soul to the earth, Yuki thought. In people’s lives, in people’s joys and sorrows. It’s only by planting his feet on the ground that Kakeru would definitely become even stronger. Balance was essential. It was the same as running down a snowy mountain road.

As Yuki entered the Miyanoshita Hot Spring Village and passed in front of the Fujiya Hotel, he saw something unexpected and let out a short cry.

“Uwah!”

In front of the hotel, there were many guests waving Hakone Ekiden flags. Some of them were dressed lightly in yukata and padded kimonos, shouting their voices hoarse even as they shrank back from the cold. Among them, Yuki saw his mother, his younger sister who was only half related to him, and his mother’s second husband.

“Yukihiko!” his mother shouted loudly.

“Onii-chan, do your best!” His young sister leaned forward, and his stepfather, who was holding her, nodded firmly.

“This is so embarrassing…”

He passed by the hotel in a few moments, but Yuki ran for a while with his head down. Did my family elegantly spend the New Year’s at that hotel? Yuki snarked inwardly to cover up his embarrassment. They probably knew I wouldn’t be able to come by even if they invited me, so they planned to surprise me by not saying anything. Even so, it’s too bad for my heart. I hope the TV and radio didn’t pick up the voices and figures of Mom and the others. Nico-chan-senpai would definitely make fun of me if he knew. Well, he should only have a radio, so I think I’ll be fine.

Yuki suddenly felt happy. That look on Mom’s face just now. She looked desperate and tearful, like she was the one running.

Yuki didn’t remember his biological father. He had died in an accident right after he was born, so his only memories of his father were in his mother’s words and photos. Since his father’s death, Yuki had only lived with his mother, and he treasured her very much. His high school girlfriend had once said to him, “Yuki, you’re a mama’s boy, aren’t you?” Of course I am, Yuki thought. A son who doesn’t take care of his mother isn’t a good son.

Perhaps because he grew up watching his mother work late into the night, Yuki set his sights on his goals early on. He wanted to get a steady job so that he could make his mother’s life easier. Fortunately, he had confirmed during his school life that his brain wasn’t half-bad. If that was the case, then it would be easy to aim for the bar exam, which was called the strongest qualification. He thought that being a lawyer, where he could work between logic and emotion, would be suitable for him, and more importantly, it seemed to make a lot of money. As soon as Yuki entered high school, he began preparing for the exam on his own. He studied hard and worked on his stamina. He thought that he should be well-versed in the inner workings of relationships between men and women, so he went out with girls.

However, something happened that made Yuki’s efforts all come to nothing: his mother remarried. Her new husband was an office worker who earned a decent wage, so his mother didn’t have to work anymore. She loved her new husband and seemed to be very happy. His stepfather was easily able to do more for her than Yuki had ever wanted to do for his mother.

Yuki couldn’t help but feel devastated. He had his pride, and when he decided to do something, he had to finish it, so he didn’t give up on passing the bar exam. However, it was all in vain now. The following year after his mother remarried, she had his little sister. This was also a situation that made Yuki, who was in his late teens, feel awkward and uncomfortable. When he got into university, he left home and rarely came back, even at New Year’s.

Seeing his family cheer him on made the trivial pent-up feelings he had melt away. As though to match that, the snow had completely transformed into rain.

Both his stepfather and his sister had always cared for Yuki as a member of the family. And most importantly, his mother was happy. That’s all that matters. That’s exactly what I’ve always wanted. It would be childish of me to keep sulking about the fact that my mother became happy in a slightly different way than I envisioned.

Yuki laughed, unnoticed by anyone else, in the midst of his white and billowing exhalation. Before he knew it, he caught a glimpse of the Teitou University runner's back at the end of the turn. He couldn’t sense anyone behind him; he seemed to have pulled away from the lower-ranked teams he had started the race with.

He looked at his watch and confirmed that he hadn’t slowed down his pace at all. His mind and body felt light. He could go the rest of the way downhill at this pace. What was important was whether or not he could keep up this running for the last three kilometers of flat ground after Hakone-Yumoto. Kiyose had given him advice yesterday.

“After a downhill slope, even flat ground feels like going uphill. That’s when the real battle begins.”

I think I’ll be okay, Yuki answered in his mind. I have no intention of losing today—to the battle between me and my body and mind.

---

The drums were still beating at the Odawara relay station. In front of Kazamatsuri Station, there were many people crowded into the kamaboko company's parking lot, waiting for the arrival of the sixth leg athletes.

“Did you see that, Jouta? Yuki’s face was there just now!”

Nico-chan had directly witnessed the scene in front of Fujiya Hotel with the TV function of his cell phone. It was only when Haiji called him earlier that he realized he could watch TV on Jouta’s phone as well. Even Nico-chan, who was knowledgeable about computers, only used his phone for calling, and Jouta only used his for texting. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t interested in the evolution of machines that he could be satisfied with the rundown apartment.

“Yuki-senpai’s mom is young and beautiful,” Jouta said, biting into a rolled omelette. “By the way, he’s going to win the section prize at this rate, isn’t he?”

“Yuki doesn’t seem to be aware of that fact, though. The Manaka guy is just as fast as him, so it's hard to tell.”

“Ugh, I’m so frustrated! I want to tell Yuki-senpai his time.”

“How?”

“I’ll use willpower or telekinesis or something,” Jouta put the omelet he was partway through eating away in his sports bag and began to look at his phone intently. “In less than twenty minutes, it will be Nico-chan-senpai’s turn.”

The screen showed Bousou in the lead, and Rikudou chasing behind with a difference of about one and a half minutes. They were about to finish their descent and head towards Hakone-Yumoto Station. The Manaka runner, aiming for the section prize, had improved his position and was now in eighth place. His pace hadn’t slowed at all.

“How’s Yuki?”

“He’s not on the screen. Until they go out to Hakone-Yumoto, the lower-ranked teams won’t be shown much.”

Nico-chan told Jouta to keep an eye on Manaka’s time and began his final adjustments. He ran lightly in the parking lot to loosen up.

Nine o’clock in the morning. The Bousou runner arrived at the station in the lead. His time was sixty minutes and forty-six seconds. Rikudou and Yamato were the next to receive their sashes. Nico-chan hurried back to Jouta, who was near the relay line.

“Amazing!” Jouta was excited. “Even on flat ground, his speed hasn’t slowed down. Keep going, Yuki-senpai!”

On the screen of his phone, he could see Yuki sidestepping the Teitou runner at the crossroad with New Hakone Road. Kansei, in fourteenth place, had a clear view of TSU in front of them.

“Yes, that’s it!”

Nico-chan took off his jersey. Now it was time to see if Yuki could get the section prize.

“Manaka?”

“We'll be able to see them with our own eyes soon.”

Jouta raised his head from his phone. “They’re here!” he shouted.

The red uniform of Manaka, running along the railroad tracks, was just about to turn off the road and enter the relay station. They knew he was a candidate for the section prize, so the cheers were even louder. Manaka’s sash was handed over.

“What’s his record!”

“Sixty minutes and twenty-four seconds.”

Jouta read the information on the TV screen on his phone out loud. It was a good time for running on snowy roads. Even Rikudou’s Tamura, whose ten-kilometer time was in the twenty-eight minute range, had a time of sixty minutes and forty-eight seconds.

At the relay station, the schools relayed their sashes one after the other. The TV screen showed that Yuki was almost there.

Yuki, just a little more. The staff member called Nico-chan to stand at the relay line. All that was left was a race against time. Next to him, the TSU runner received his sash and started running. He could hear Jouta’s voice as he timed Yuki on his watch.

“Sixty minutes and seventeen seconds, eighteen, nineteen…”

Yuki entered the relay station. He was gritting his teeth and holding the unfastened sash in his right hand. He might have learned Manaka’s time from the spectators along the road and was trying to summon up all his strength in the final stretch.

“Yuki!” Nico-chan howled. “Sixty minutes and twenty-four seconds,” Jouta screamed. There was a stir from the spectators. The sash still hadn’t been passed to Nico-chan’s hand. Yuki was a step short of the section prize.

But at that moment, Nico-chan forgot about the existence of times. Yuki’s eyes were looking straight at him. He wasn’t thinking about the section prize at all, he just wanted to give the sash to Nico-chan as soon as possible. That was the only thing he was thinking about as he made it through the last three flat kilometers. Nico-chan understood that. He could see that in Yuki’s fingertips, which were still hot and damp despite being exposed to the cold wind.

“Good job,” Nico-chan muttered.

“I’m tired. I’m leaving the rest to you.”

Yuki clapped Nico-chan on the back, managed to step firmly on his trembling legs, and prevented himself from falling over.

“Yuki-senpai!” Jouta snatched a towel from a staff member and ran up to Yuki to support him. “It's disappointing, but you were incredible!”

“Disappointing? What is?” Yuki drank water from a plastic water bottle and finally found his voice.

“The section prize. Yuki-senpai’s time was sixty minutes and twenty-six seconds. If you had been two seconds faster, you would have tied for the section prize.”

“Really.”

Two seconds. Yuki laughed. Only two seconds. Such a short amount of time that passed in a single breath. Did I miss out on being the best in this leg by such a small margin?

“Oh well,” Yuki said. “Those two seconds were like an hour to me.”

Jouta almost cried when he saw Yuki’s soles after he took off his shoes. The blisters at the base of his big toes had peeled off and there was blood welling up, even though the skin on his soles had grown so thick over the past year. He realized just how hard it was to run down the mountains of Hakone.

“Of course it was enough. You were so cool, Yuki-senpai.”

After patting the tearful Jouta on the head, Yuki looked at the road leading toward the town of Odawara.

I’m leaving the rest to you, Nico-chan-senpai.

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#Kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru #kazetsuyo #kazetsuyo translations #run with the wind

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btsandvmin · 4 years

Note

why do u think fandom brozone vmin so much? it doesnt happen nearly as often w other ships

I have talked about this a great deal before, and for good reason. It does happen a lot, and it has always been like this. At least I can speak for the years I have been in the fandom as the first post I ever made properly was about this exact topic. (The “bromance” issue) It’s short and a bit outdated, and honestly we also have to admit that while a lot of people still keep insisting on Vmin not being shippable and being “brozoned or friendzoned” there are also a lot more people who both ship Vmin and even see actual real potential in them being more. (You can even tell by the increase in analysis here on tumblr.)

Personally regarding the “issue” of how Vmin are viewed I am no longer as annoyed with it as I used to be. I do think it’s mainly a problem when other shippers come and say it about Vmin, because that is frankly just hypocritical. I have also written Normalizing Vmin or “Vmin” and Shipping vs Believing that explains more about my views on the subject of friendzoning and shipping as a whole. (Personally I feel Vmin get more friendzoned than brozoned, but that’s just a minor detail.)

But your question was about why you think the fandom brozone/friendzone Vmin so much, so let’s get to that.

First of all I obviously think there are several reasons, but this is all based on my speculations after being in this fandom for so long and what I have seen. Every person could have their own very different reasons to why they think the way they do. I think all the reasons play a part, but might not be equally important and might also not apply to every single person, but rather affect the fandom as a whole in one way or another.

So let’s break it down to the things I think play the biggest role in why Vmin are seen as platonic, regardless of if they are or not, just simply compared to a lot of the other ships.

1. They have since the start used the label “friend” or “best friend” to describe each other. In particular the label “chingu” of course, which in actuality is used to described someone of the same age that you are close with.

2. The English translation and constant use of “friend” will when repeated constantly get stuck in people’s minds and affect how they view a dynamic. Just how “hyung” gets translated to brother, but a lot less well known and noted by the fandom. Basically the western fandom will likely get even more platonic feelings towards Vmin because of the word being translated to friends.

3. Compared to the other “chingus” in the group, Namjoon and Hobi, there is much more emphasis on Vmin as the same age and as being close and best friends. Namjoon himself made a comment on this. I also think the use of “friends” or more recently “soulmates” by editors is a reply to this, basically that the editors too use these words because they are used a lot by the members first. Hence it gets doubly reinforced. Every time we hear it or read it we get another reminder of Vmin being friends.

4. Their early dymanics were less soft. A lot of their interactions were teasing like Taehyung’s “Jiminie pabo” and fans saw it as two siblings or friends rather than as the “teasing your crush”. Basically people didn't read their behavior as romantic. When BTS first started Vmin already called each other best friends, and that stuck, even more so in combination with people basically not seeing any "spark" between them. I would call this preference in a lot of cases.

5. There were in the beginning already a lot of competition between ships. Jimin often focused in a lot on JK and basically flirted with him while he at the same time brushed off Tae when he did similar towards Jimin. Meanwhile Tae and JK had a very physical relationship as well and JK often seemed the most open and comfortable with Tae. I think both of Vmin kind of pushing themselves on and teasing JK was a dynamic many shippers like. Meanwhile you aslo had Yoonmin getting popular due to Yoongi seeming a bit soft on Jimin and Jimin being very open and loud with wanting attention from Yoongi.

6. Some people find Vmin's dynamics boring. To a lot of shippers “too” obvious closeness might be a little boring and get labeled as just being friends or bros. This was in particular evident in the early days of Vmin. It also matters for fan content, and we can see a lot of Vmin fiction use a bit more “soft” tropes and might not get as many readers as more conflict driven plot. For me I would also include Vmin’s bias towards each other as another point here, that people might see as too much if they are a couple and have to hide. Basically a lot of people don’t see friendship to romance as the most interesting, or the "obvious and equal dynamic" as interesting. BTS said Vmin were the closest or the “best duo” etc. but since all of them were close people picked based on preference for their ship. Of course this still applies to shippers now, they fall for the type of dynamic they like, but now they also have a easier time getting convinced by material from other shippers. Having analysis is another thing that can make a ship more appealing as well.

7. Speaking of, fan content getting created and spread will reinforce certain images. Reading BTS fanfiction or watching moment videos you will see a lot of Vmin being “the best friends”. Basically once the image is used a lot, it will get more spread and used even more. It will be a constant in many places and when talking to a lot of people. It will also of course pull people in to other ships that makes Vmin impossible. Not to mention the big ships will get bigger and spread more easily.

8. Now this might not be true for a lot of people. But I have come across a lot of fans who seem to think being a friend is something that makes romance less likely. For me I want my partner to be my best friend as well, but a lot of people do see these two things as mutually exclusive. Many see friend and lover as two very different things and that you have one best friend and one partner, not someone that are both. Basically just the view on friendships and labels and how that might lead to some feeling being romantically involved is something separate from a close friendship.

9. Other ships spreading the narrative even further. It’s easier to just call Vmin friends, honestly. It’s often hard to deny their closeness (not that you should have to just because you ship something else, doesn’t change reality). But Vmin being so close and being part of the three biggest ships in BTS of course their label as best friends will be spread and used even more by those shippers. And because of the size of those ships it eventually gets turned into not just those shippers views, but the whole fandom’s.

10. More recently I would also say fear is a reason why people push back and try to remind the fandom that Vmin are “just friends”. Because we have very bad examples of what happens when shipping goes too far, basically it makes many non shippers try to protect Vmin from the same faith. Not a bad thing (again, as long as you don’t ship something else and is a hypocrite), but it surely does further the narrative of Vmin being very platonic. (A bad group is of course included here, which are homophobic fans, but since they feel the same about all ships it’s just a sidenote.)

11. Lastly, and probably most influentual, is the fact that Vmin and BTS friendzone Vmin in many ways, constantly.

I won’t go into all the examples, but I think we all know a few moments even at the top of our heads by now.

I mean.... They called their song about being soulmates and wanting to be together for eternity "Friends". And maybe that's what they are, but they sure like to remind us.

So we have times when BTS or Vmin basically remind us and spells it out even more clearly that Vmin are FRIENDS. They use it very very often, and personally to me sometimes at very weird moments. Even so, the things most fans see will of course be what they say. Vmin are friends and that is it.

And at face value that is true. I just personally don’t see being best friends (and soulmates) as meaning they can’t be more as well. Especially since they wouldn’t even be able to say more than that. I mean, if Vmin are basically described as the closest in BTS, then why does that mean they have less odds of being real? Being friends doesn’t have to equal being only friends.

However, Vmin have in fact said things against being interested/denied the other, I don’t want to lie. I am sure some would see this as 100% truth and use it againt the possibility of Vmin being real. Like when Taehyung basically said he would rather date Hobi.

However, Jimin said he would definitely choose Taehyung to date, but that gets ignored by people who ship Jimin with others, so it’s really just about choosing what fits your narrative. All ships have contradicting moments or statments or answers where they answer two different things at two different times in general.

We also have how Jimin answered back to Taehyung about liking men by saying he isnt “like that” to Taehyung.

There are moments like this, and even though they might be small and forgotten by most I think they could in a sense still have registered in some fans who then basically managed to spreak the “vmin are just bros/friends” into the more common perception.

However we also have opposite moments when they try to appeal to each other, or like when Taehyung asks Jimin to be the girlfriend etc. and personally though I do take these things into account it’s a bit like when you see members say “men can’t do this or that” and it doesn’t necessarily mean they can’t be queer. To me even though there are things against most ships, there are still a lot that speaks for some, and that’s why I remain unsure.

Sometimes you might get more defensive or nervous if there is some truth in there as well. It’s all about interpretation, even though I don’t want to blatantly ignore what they say. But since they have said and done directly contradicting things (like how Jimin said he would choose to date Tae while also saying he doesn’t act like “that” to Tae, or how they have changed a lot of answers in general) I also don’t see it as something definitely against them being more. Not to mention time can change things as well.

In the end though this isn’t about what other things there might be that show Vmin might be more than friends or not, but simply reasons for the fandom’s view of them as platonic. (Personally I think they do a lot of things not normally seen as platonic, which is obviously the reason for me having this blog and writing anlysis on them.)

So, Vmin is friendzoned by the group, and by shippers of bigger ships, and even by themselves at times. Then everything else is reinforcement and inability to view them as anything more than friends.

There are some other things I think might play a part in it as well, but most comes down to personal preferences or what you get exposed to. Like who is the bias of the shipper and what things do they come across to make them a shipper, what kind of dynamics do they like etc. (It's more likely for someone who "falls" for JK to have JK in his ship, for example. Because they will focus on him and notice his interactions and then likely fall for a certain dynamic.)

History is a huge factor in general, and trying to change the perspective of the fandom might not be easy. But with a lot of new fans coming in and seeing with their own eyes how Vmin have behaved the last two years in particular, I think we can see a change.

Vmin are loved by the majority of this fandom, and that’s far better than them having people be anti them because of their ship being too big or too toxic. So in the end I do feel it’s a good things for them and for us that Vmin is being viewed as mostly platonic while they manage to slowly include more “normally not platonic things” into their platonic box. (I mean we are at a point where they can casually mention sleeping together and sing about being soulmates and hold hands in public).

Thank you for the ask and I hope you found this interesting. This is a topic I have a lot of opinions on and think is interesting myself, so I hope you enjoyed this post. No matter what we all know that one truth won’t change; 95z is love!

#vmin #vmin analysis #vmin friendzoned #vmin friends #vmin bromance #btsandvmin ask #btsandvmin answer #btsandvmin

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cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[CN] Lucien’s R&S - The victim who disappeared (Eng Translation)

🍒This R&S (消失的遇难者) was part of the Dream Heart Lake event which will unlikely come to EN🍒

Angst warning!

More Lucien R&S from this event:

> regarding what books don’t say (important to read this first!)

> my love rival older brother

> the victim who disappeared ♡

> since that rainy night

[ Chapter One ]

Recently, the girls in the precinct have been addicted to a variety program called “Miracle Finder”. When it’s time for lunch, there’d be a bunch of them piling in front of the computer screen, watching and exclaiming.

Filled with curiosity, I lean over to take a look. The girls immediately stop me, recommending it fervently.

“Captain Fan, do you watch this program too?”

“This week’s guest is Professor Lucien. He looks so handsome!”

I shake my head in resignation. “You girls only know how to look at appearances the whole day.”

“Captain Fan, you can’t say that! Our Professor Lucien became a neurologist at a very young age.”

“Exactly, exactly! He’s also a guest professor at Loveland University!”

“Sigh. If I had such a handsome teacher back then, I’d have definitely worked hard.”

Watching the girls chat, I can’t help but tease them. “Don’t all of you have an even more handsome-looking superior? It isn’t too late to start working now.”

The moment I finish speaking, their exclamations completely cover my words. Seems like the young and gifted “Professor Lucien” they’ve been talking about has appeared on the screen. Seeing his refined manner and gentle appearance, I actually feel a sense of familiarity.

“Hurry and look! Even Captain Fan is dazed!”

“We were right, weren’t we? Doesn’t he have an especially good temperament!”

The crinkled and smiling eyes of that boy in my memories overlap with the person on screen. That unresolved case which almost disappeared finally has a favourable turn after so many years. Even though I know that the chances are slim, I still wish to grasp this new lead.

“What’s his name again?”

“Oh? Wasn’t Captain Fan completely uninterested just now?” The girls notice the change in my attitude, becoming enthusiastic in an instant. They start introducing him, their words pouring out in an unceasing torrent. “His name is Lucien, a neurologist who returned after studying abroad. I heard that the thesis he released at twenty was published in an internationally renowned science magazine...”

“Isn’t he just as intelligent as that boy?” I mutter softly, the hope in my heart brightening by a few notches.

Although the name doesn’t fit, if that child managed to survive after that incident 19 years ago, it feels as though he would have gone down such a life path.

“Uncle has worked very hard. Kid, have you been doing your best over the years too?”

Even though I’m unable to find concrete evidence to make public the incident 19 years ago, the least I could do is to shed some light on the truth concerning that kid and his family.

In the midst of a cruel reality mixed with tears and blood, and the truth which cannot be found, the me of the past finally decided to step out of the days of living in a wasteland, plunging deeper into a depthless pool of truth.

[ Chapter Two ]

At night, I dreamt of that day yet again.

It was that boy’s 7th birthday.

Early in the morning on that day, he had headed out with his parents. Before he left, he specially gave me an invitation card to his birthday party in the evening.

He rarely revealed the innocent smile a kid should have. Instead, his mouth remained merciless, saying something unadorable. “I’ve already spoken with my dad. Tonight, he can tell you how to play chess. If you don't improve in your chess skills, I won’t know how to play with you anymore.”

I snatched the invitation card in his hand in an impolite manner, deliberately provoking him. “You’ll have to make do with it, little genius. I’m the only one who’s willing to play with you.”

In a huff, he ran over to where his parents were waiting for him not afar off. Taking their hands, they left while talking and laughing.

I rarely saw this busy couple accompanying their child outside over the weekend. They must have taken a day off from work specially for his birthday.

“Kid, have fun!”

“Mm.”

“Also, happy birthday!”

“Thank you, Brother Fan.”

His parents and him turned around to wave goodbye at me, the three of their smiles under the sunlight, sparkling and bright.

On hindsight, I should have given him his present then.

It was a sci-fi novel which was popular amongst kids, and I’d frequently see children gathered in the yard discussing it together. Although I didn’t know if that kid liked reading other books aside from those profound science materials, I felt it wouldn’t hurt for him to engage with things people his age liked.

He was still a child. From the bottom of my heart, I hoped that he could live a little more like a child.

However, this wish that I never said aloud was completely shattered by that car accident.

That evening, which should have filled with presents, cake, and the sound of birthday songs, only welcomed pattering and whistling rain, as well as blood stains on the asphalt road which couldn’t be washed off even with a scrub.

Sirens from the ambulance and police cars intertwined. Mixed with the sharp cries of passers-by, they composed the saddest and shrillest background music.

[ Chapter Three ]

“Oh my goodness, that’s so horrifying! Those two people are covered in blood!”

“Let’s leave, it’s too pitiful.”

The crowd in the surroundings remarked in soft voices, showing sympathy towards the victims they weren’t acquainted with.

The incident happened on the road outside our estate. After receiving the task, I rushed over to the scene. When I saw the names of the casualties, I was both shocked and had a flicker of hope in my heart, praying that they were people who happened to share the same names. However, after confirming the identities of the two bodies underneath the white cloth, coldness rushed through my body--

Those were the parents of the little genius.

In just the blink of an eye, the couple who had greeted me with warm smiles had turned ice cold, lying in a pool of blood. I didn’t dare to imagine how such a young kid would be able to face such a cruel reality, and my insuppressible tears, along with the rain, drenched my face.

The captain came over to pat me on the shoulder, consoling me with a lowered voice. “Settle your emotions, and do a proper investigation.”

I nodded my head silently, lifting my hand to wipe my tears away. After that, I started taking down records of what the witness had to say.

The witness was a boss of a news-stand nearby, around 45 years of age. He was in a state of fright, hugging his elbows and shivering.

I asked if he needed a rest before supplementing the record, but he shook his head repeatedly, saying that it’d be better to record it early, since he wouldn’t want to recollect such a horrifying image afterwards.

According to his description, the cause of the accident was a large truck which had lost control. It was yet to be confirmed whether the reason for the loss of control was due to a human error, or the slippery road.

After realising that there was an issue with the truck, the driver had frantically tried to turn. But in the end, it still ended up hitting the family of three who were walking on the zebra crossing.

The three of them were sent flying a great distance. The places where they fell turned into pools of blood not long after.

As for what happened after, the boss of the news-stand expressed that he didn’t pay attention due to fright.

After handing him over to the medical personnel to console his emotions, I continued making notes for the next witness.

The images described by all the witnesses were virtually the same. From the various indications of the scene, this tragedy could have been a normal traffic accident.

When I finished making the records, the scene was more or less cleaned up. After wrapping up my work, I inquired about which hospital the boy was taken to. But I was notified that no injured child was found on the scene.

“How’s that impossible! That sketchbook over there belongs to him! That boy suffered such grave injuries - where else could he have gone!”

Agitatedly, I pointed at the exhibits collected, one of them a sketchbook coated in blood. At a glance, I recognised it as the book that boy would carry with him all day. That’s because the flower garland on the cover was a work he was proud of, and it was exactly the same as the one drawn on his birthday invitation card this morning.

He was definitely at the scene when the accident happened. Also, he definitely couldn’t have left on his own.

“Has the scene been investigated? Are there any other suspicious areas or areas we’ve overlooked?”

"Didn’t all the witnesses say there was a family of three at the scene? There’s definitely one more kid!”

“How much time passed after the incident before the scene was cordoned off? Could the kid have been taken away before that?”

I tossed out points of contention in succession, but the expressions of my colleagues remained confused and blank. In a moment of anxiousness, I burned with impatience and went to check the surveillance tape on my own. However, I didn’t notice any suspicious people entering or exiting the scene before or after the incident.

I didn’t have a single clue regarding his whereabouts, and could only hold onto hope as I contacted his relatives one by one.

They were generally not from the city. Most of them didn’t even know that the family had met with an accident, much less the whereabouts of the boy. After consoling their emotions, I hang up dejectedly, turning back to the scene of the incident.

The police cars stationed around earlier had long since left, and traces left on the asphalt road had been washed clean by the rain. Everything returned to peace and quiet, as though nothing had happened. Only the lingering grief served as a reminder that it wasn’t over yet--

The sudden car accident, the missing child, the ignorant relatives - all of these seemed to remind me that this wasn’t a simple traffic incident.

Without any orderliness, I started investigating the vicinity, imagining countless times for that smart fellow to suddenly lunge out from a dark corner, telling me that this whole thing was just a prank he pulled.

However, that didn’t happen. Even after checking every corner of the large streets and small alleys, I ended up empty-handed.

In the end, I sat down tiredly along the side of the road, looking at the pitch-black sky as it started turning into a grey dawn.

Although it was dawn, the truth of the matter would forever be hidden in that dark night.

All my hopes and hopelessness fell into pieces, leaving behind a maze of doubts, akin to a dense fog.

[ Chapter Four ]

On the morning of the second day, without even washing my face, I headed to the news-stand to buy various newspapers, looking through them seriously to search for any reports on the matter.

As it was temporarily classified as a normal traffic accident, the length of all the articles were very short. Also, they were placed in nondescript corners.

I closed the final set of newspapers, realising in disappointment that none of them mentioned the missing child.

It’s as though he had evaporated from the world. Aside from me, no one else remembered his existence.

I couldn't stand for the case to be closed just like this, and finally understood the anxiety family members felt when they asked for our help in conducting investigations. As long as it was related to a living person, there wasn’t anything not worth investigating.

With a determination to investigate the matter and leave no stone unturned, I once again returned to the scene of the accident. I asked around the small shops along the roadside, hoping to obtain just a tiny hint.

Heaven will not disappoint the person who tries. From the lips of an owner of the shop facing the zebra crossing, I received an important lead which wasn’t brought up before - a black car.

“When the accident occurred, I was busy, and even had a scare when I heard the truck braking. By the time I set down my stuff to watch, the police cars and ambulance weren’t here yet. But a black car was stationed here for quite some time.”

Regarding this lead, I first expressed shock. Then, I had doubts.

Based on the surveillance tape I watched on the day of the incident, no suspicious cars appeared. If this person deliberately toggled with the surveillance footage to capture the kid, the remaining investigations would likely be a bitter struggle.

“Why did he take the kid away?”

“Could there be a conspiracy behind this?”

That black car had taken both the truth and that boy, disappearing into thin air.

The scene I had witnessed, the images depicted by the witnesses, the true footage of that surveillance tape, pieces of evidence which weren’t able to fit together, created paradoxes. The entire incident was akin to a vicious cycle, tangled and complicated, twisting and turning, unable to grasp a hint of it, and left one spinning around on a superficial level.

In the end, the police classified this matter as a normal traffic incident. And I could only continue investigating in the dark.

[ Chapter Five ]

Many years passed. From a small police officer who had accomplished nothing, I struggled and worked hard, becoming a captain who solved countless cases.

Even so, the unresolved case concerning that boy hasn’t had a breakthrough.

Over ten years, I found some leads, but they would ultimately be flawed fragments. And along with the passage of time, they’ve eroded even more.

This time, the person called “Lucien” was probably the finally hope of this case.

I visit Loveland University over the weekend, asking the kids about this “Professor Lucien”, but receive scant results even after a long while. He’s indeed very popular amongst students. But regarding his personal life, everyone expressed that they weren’t clear about it.

“Then again, which student would be so free to ask about a teacher’s personal life?” With a wry smile, I take a seat at the resting area of the math building. Without realising it, someone sits beside me. While feeling puzzled over why someone would choose to sit next to a middle-aged uncle when there are so many other empty chairs around, I see the face of the person I was looking for.

“Lucien?!”

“I heard from the students that you were asking about me. So I thought, why not let you ask me in person directly?” His tone is as calm as what I saw in the program, but I can vaguely sense a hint of irritation.

“Please don’t get the wrong idea. I didn’t mean to offend you.” I find an excuse on the fly. “It’s just that after watching your program, there were some issues I didn’t quite understand, and wanted to consult you.”

He listens patiently to the many unorganised questions I have, and explains them thoroughly. That look of concentration makes me think about the boy again.

Finally, I can no longer contain myself. When I’m about to bid farewell to him, I ask, “It might be a little presumptuous of me, but could I ask if you’ve always been living abroad since young?”

There doesn’t seem to be much change in his expression, but he raises his eyebrows slightly.

“In that case, could I be also be presumptuous and ask why you have such a question?

Since things have already reached this stage, I decide that there’s no longer a need to conceal anything. So I tell him the honest truth. “You kind of resemble a kid I used to know, but he’s gone missing.”

Upon hearing this, a sadness dyes his eyes in an instant. He lowers his eyes, his expression sad, as though he had also once known that pitiful child. “I feel deeply sorry for that child... but it’s a shame that I’m not the person you’re looking for. From the moment I could remember, I’ve been living in an orphanage.

“Ah... sorry about that.” I feel uncomfortable knowing that I’ve rubbed someone else’s sore spot. As though he’s talking about matters pertaining to somebody else, he says relaxedly, “It’s all right. I hope you can find that child soon.”

His eyes really do resemble the boy. It’s just that he’s much more modest in how he conducts himself. I increasingly hope that if the boy were still living on this earth, he must definitely be a person who is just as well-liked.

“Many years have passed. To tell you the truth, I think whether or not I find him isn’t that important.” I look into the distance, making a wish from the bottom of my heart. “I just hope that in a corner of the world, he’s living happily and well.”

After Lucien hears this, he chuckles lightly. “I’m almost envious of that boy - that he was able to meet a kind-hearted person who would think of him even after such a long time.”

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc lucien #cncancelled #...T-T

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sleepawaywriting · 4 years

Text

Mornings, Part I

[Piers x Reader, NSFW]

okay so this is half domestic headcanons, half unadulterated horniness. i love the goth boy okay I JUST WANT HIM TO GET SOME SLEEP.

NSFW (18+) UNDER THE CUT

You learn a lot about a person by sleeping with them. In your case, literally. Sleeping next to someone can be an exercise in trust, as it can be extremely vulnerable, and potentially disastrous. After all, you never know who you truly are while asleep until someone is there to bear witness. You could see everything: their nightly routine, their little habits and quirks. What did they prefer to wear, if they wore anything at all? How did they wind down? How did they get comfortable? Did they read? Listen to music? Did they prefer one pillow, or two, or ten? Did they surround themselves in a cocoon of blankets, or sleep completely uncovered, mocking the monsters under the bed? Did they stir at the slightest disturbance, or could they sleep through the end of the world? Were they restless in their slumber, or still as the grave? Did they snore? Did they talk? Did they steal blankets in the night, or did they cling to their partners? You personally found all of these details fascinating. It was as if the other person was sharing a special part of themselves, a part not too often seen by others.

You especially appreciated it now, as you dozed in-and-out of consciousness on a warm, cozy Sunday morning, lying entangled in the slender arms of your loving boyfriend. Your mind tended to wander on mornings like this, when you had no duties, no obligations, and could simply bask in the comforting presence of your slumbering musician. You thought it was funny, how you personally had very little change in your own sleeping habits since dating the ex-Gym Leader, despite your newly-inherited responsibilities as the Champion of Galar. Piers, on the other hand, had gone through an entire circadian metamorphosis since the two of you became intimate. Before you had moved into his flat in Spikemuth—a shocking and borderline scandalous development in your relationship, as far as the tabloids were concerned (you rarely paid them too much mind)—and before he had stepped down as Spikemuth’s Gym Leader, you were amazed if he managed to sleep more than four hours a night. You had an idea of how rarely he slept before you started dating—after all, why else would he send you texts in the dead of night and wee hours of the morning? But it wasn’t until after the two of you began sleeping together that you fully understood the extent of Piers’ problems. He had insomnia, that much was clear, and tended to become restless in the hours that you normally retired to bed. He claimed that all of his best ideas came to him late in the night, and would spend hours scribbling in his trusty journal while you cluelessly snoozed away next to him. Upon discovering this, you felt somewhat guilty, but he assuaged your worries by waxing poetic about how your soothing presence provided him with endless inspiration—that even while asleep, you helped organize his frenzied, haphazard thoughts long enough to translate them into song (and no matter how many times he admitted it, hearing how much you effected his music never failed to make you blush like a starstruck teen).

After moving in together, and as your domestic routines began to blend, so did your sleeping habits. It was surprisingly easy to get Piers into bed with you, you discovered. You simply had to tip-toe down to his basement studio and subdue him with a gentle kiss to the neck, along with some soft words teasing the shell of his ear. Though your schedules were not entirely in sync, as you had very different jobs, your sleepless songbird was finally getting some well-deserved rest. Gone were the mornings spent opening Spikemuth’s Gym, and spending most of the day prepping Gym Trainers, training Pokemon, and fighting rambunctious, overly-confident Gym Challengers, who often underestimated the rockstar’s abilities, much to your frustration. Now that he was a full-time musician, his workday didn't begin until late into the afternoon, and his concerts would often go late into the night. During your busiest times, when your Champion duties required you to be up at sunrise, you would have to bow out early most nights, feeling guilty when you could only support your boyfriend’s gigs about half of the time. Of course, in typical Piers fashion, he was endlessly understanding, and there was nothing quite as sweet as the feeling of going to bed alone, only to wake up and find him exhaustedly cuddled up next you, face buried into your chest or the small of your back (along with your menagerie of Pokemon, which, due to many of them being simultaneously competitive and cuddly, the two of you had to make a schedule for which Pokemon got to share the bed on certain nights).

You never expected Piers to be such a massive cuddler, but you very much welcomed it. At the beginning of your relationship, you suspected that Piers was averse to touch, as he tended to tense or not entirely reciprocate when you first began kissing or embracing him. You soon discovered that this was far from the truth, and that the poor guy simply wasn’t used to the type of affection you so enthusiastically showered upon him. Once the two of you lived together, it became increasingly obvious that he adored and craved your touch, often snuggling up against you and draping his arms around you when asleep. You also learned, that despite having trouble falling asleep, once Piers was securely in dreamland, it was almost impossible to wake him. On most mornings, escaping his Bewear-like grasp was your first Champion challenge of the day. On top of being a heavy sleeper, he was also a heavy sleep-talker. This rarely bothered you, in fact, you enjoyed having full conversations with him while he was none the wiser, with topics ranging from Marnie’s homework, Obstagoon’s yearly PokeCenter check-up, scheduling future gigs (he often mistook you for his manager in his sleep-addled stupor), and other silly, mundane things. He never remembered any of it, no matter how much you tried to jog his memory (he once mumbled out an imaginary itinerary for your future wedding—you never told him this, but it was a secret you held near and dear to your heart). There were many mornings where you would lie next to him, mindlessly scrolling through your phone or checking your emails, only for him to jolt half-awake, ask you, groggily, to write something down (usually an idea for a song), then immediately plop back down onto his pillow, snoring comically.

Those mornings were much like this one: quiet, unassuming—where you would debate for several minutes on whether you were gracious enough to let him sleep in, or impatient enough to wake him. You weren’t exactly in a hurry to get out of bed, as this was one of your rare days off, and the warmth radiating from Piers’ body, the welcoming scent of his lingering cologne, and the light pitter-patter of rain on the roof of the massive structure overhanging Spikemuth was enough to tempt you back into sleep. Your head rested under your boyfriend’s chin, your face close to the base of his neck, and you gently brought one hand up to trace a finger along the smooth metal of his collar, which he rarely removed. You weren’t sure if it was because he never wanted to, or if he simply forgot it was there, and either sounded like him, if you were being honest. Yawning quietly, you nudged your head back, wanting to get a better view of Piers’ sleeping face. Your bedroom happened to have a window facing the outside of Spikemuth’s container, allowing the diffused morning light to bathe your room in an overcast veil. He seemed to be sleeping soundly, despite his perpetually-grumpy expression still present, if somewhat more relaxed. You smiled to yourself, remembering when you first admitted to him, early in your friendship, that you assumed he hated you because of how he always seemed to look annoyed around you. “Hate to break it to ya, love, but that’s just my face,” he said then, making you feel embarrassed for assuming the worst about him, but also somewhat flustered that he referred to you as “love”. Back then, you wanted to write it off as one of his many Spikemuth-isms—that perhaps it was just a more casual nickname where he was from—but here you were, proven wrong.

Sighing softly, you looked over his sleeping form, admiring the way the stormy glow highlighted his features. You had always found him both incredibly adorable and handsome, despite the things he would say about himself in hushed tones on his worst days. His large, sad blue eyes, though closed for now, paired nicely with his high cheek bones and dark, striking eyebrows. You drew the tip of your index finger down the bridge of his nose, slightly crooked from the handful of times he had broken it in his youth, through back-alley scuffles and far-too-wild concerts. You tried not to giggle when the muscles in his face twitched as you reached the tip, giving it an extra boop for good measure. And, of course, you loved his mouth, the way his lips felt so soft and inviting against your own, the way they curled into the most adorable little smiles. The way they felt against your skin, at your wrists, the dip of your neck, across your shoulders, between your breasts, down your stomach, flush against your sensitive, needy heat, along with his overly-generous tongue.

Oh.

Suddenly and without warning, you really wanted him. Biting your lip, you didn’t wish to disturb the musician’s peaceful slumber, nor did you want him to spend the energy on reciprocating, which you knew he would insist upon (it was difficult to get him to be the least bit selfish about his own pleasure). Not to mention, you were still fairly groggy yourself, but you were equally as longing for your boyfriend, and the way his body would react to your loving, methodical touches, the way his beautiful voice would sound upon waking up in the throes of pleasure. Then, you remembered something. It was an idea the two of you had discussed before, whispers of heated fantasies in the dead of night, something that you had been waiting to act upon, but only at the right time, when it would truly be a surprise. Well, now was as good a time as any, you thought, smiling mischievously to yourself.

Ever-so-slowly, you wriggled out of Piers’ all-encompassing grasp, trying desperately not to laugh at how ridiculous you looked—arms firmly pressed to your sides, legs squeezed together, shifting yourself to-and-fro like a newly-hatched Caterpie. Once free, you sat up on your knees, careful to not shake the bed with your movements. Next came the difficult part, you thought, as he was on his side, and you needed him to be on his back for your plan to work. Placing one hand gently on his shoulder, and the other on his hip, you subtly began nudging him onto his back. You almost startled when he suddenly moved, shifting onto his back of his own accord. You winced internally, fully prepared for him to stir awake and be reasonably confused as to why you were leaning over him, but he quickly settled back into sleep, completely oblivious to the waking world. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, smiling at the silly, dramatic, sprawled-out position you boyfriend had assumed.

Carefully, you straddled his waist, making sure to place most of your weight onto your knees. Since the weather was getting warmer, even in the rainy, coastal town of Spikemuth, the both of you were sparsely clothed, with Piers completely bare, save for a thin pair of briefs. Looking him over, you watched the slow rise-and-fall of his chest, and admired the way his long, thick, two-toned hair cascaded down his pillow, descending into rivulets of stark white and midnight black against your bedsheets. He had just showered the previous night, which meant it was extra soft and fluffy, and just messy enough to make him look even more attractive, without risk of becoming a tangled mess. From your angle, you took the time to appreciate his slender frame, which you found endlessly attractive. You loved everything about him, from his prominent collarbones, to his flat chest, to the slight indents of his ribcage traveling down to the smooth plane of his abdomen, punctuated by his sharp hip bones. It took everything in you to not draw your hands up his torso, feeling every muscle and the occasional edge of bone beneath your eager touch. You frowned slightly, remembering how he would occasionally jab at himself, stating that he looked like a skeleton or a walking corpse at times. Though you knew he was joking, at least for the most part, you were adamant on reminding him just how much you adored his body, which was something that simultaneously baffled and flattered him. Your effortless and brutally honest compliments never failed to turn him sheepish, avoiding your gaze and hiding his warm cheeks behind his long, thick bangs. And you would keep reminding him, again and again, that he was plenty attractive, even if you needed to give him a a few more hands-on demonstrations to prove it, which you were more than happy to provide.

Taking a deep breath, you leaned over him, slowly placing your hands on either side of his head. Leaning down, you simply couldn’t resist brushing your lips against his own, just the softest, feather-light touch, holding yourself back from diving in and kissing him blissfully awake. Moving down, you grazed your lips across his neck, planting a gentle kiss at the base, right beneath his choker, noting the faint, yet sharp scent of leftover hair product, and the smooth, silky scent of mild soap. You left a trail of soft kisses across his collarbone, smiling into his skin as you noticed goosebumps appearing at your touch, then moved down to his chest, leaving a few kisses over his sternum before boldly swiping your tongue over one of his nipples. He flinched, and you looked up at his face, fearing the worst, but he simply turned his head to the side and settled back into sleep, breathing deeply. You could have imagined it, but you thought his cheeks took on a slightly rosy tint, contrasting with his normally pale complexion.

Continuing your journey downward, you lavished his soft belly with loving kisses and the occasional warm, gentle sweep of your tongue. Reaching the top of his hips, you nuzzled the soft, dark hair trailing down from his navel into the waistband of his briefs, before shifting your body down between his knees. You gingerly spread his thighs apart with your fingertips, lying down onto your stomach and slowly shimmying yourself forward, fitting comfortably between his long legs. Kissing up his soft inner thighs, you began to apply more pressure, teasing the sensitive skin with the edges of your teeth. You journeyed further upward, sucking on a particularly sensitive patch of skin that made his legs twitch beneath you. Hearing him exhale, you looked up, noticing as his breathing became slightly more labored. With a satisfied grin, you reached up with one hand, lightly palming the growing bulge beneath the soft fabric of his briefs. You adored the way Piers’ body reacted to even the slightest, most teasing touches, and the fact that you could make him feel so good so easily was a massive turn-on. It certainly helped boost your confidence—not to mention, seeing the handsome musician thoroughly enjoy himself never failed to make you weak in the knees.

It only took a few moments for your boyfriend to grow hard and wanting beneath your ministrations. You released him from his briefs, taking a moment to admire his cock in all its unapologetic glory. You suddenly remembered his reaction to you the first time you saw it. You must have been making some kind of face, because he immediately interjected with, “It’s not that big, is it?”, to which you replied, “Oh, ‘It’s not that big, is it?’,” playfully mocking his accent for good measure, “Mr. Humble over here with ‘It’s not that big’. Seriously?” you smiled and rolled your eyes as your boyfriend laughed. You then told him it was pretty, which made him laugh even harder, but you were being completely serious. It was big, as in long, but not too girthy, and as pale as he was, save for the last half, which was flushed pink (it was actually quite similar to the rest of him, now that you thought about it). It also never failed to make you feel so full and satisfied, hitting all the spots inside of you that made you whimper and squirm. You wanted to be re-acquainted, preferably soon, but for now, you had other plans.

You decided to tease him a little more before fully indulging yourself, drawing the soft pad of your index finger up the underside of his shaft before circling it around the tip, taking your sweet time to feel every dip and curve. His breathing grew heavier, and now you could see that his cheeks were fully flushed, his brow tensing slightly as you all but tickled his aching cock. Licking a stripe up your hand, you gently wrapped it around him, keeping your grip loose enough as to not overwhelm his senses right away. Stroking him slowly, you lavished the rest with gentle kisses, reveling in the way his hips twitched and his breath stuttered once you began swirling your tongue around the tip. He was so warm, and you felt him throb beneath your hand, his hips practically jolting in place when you gave the tip a generous squeeze. You briefly wondered if he was dreaming, and if so, if he was dreaming about you.

Watching, enamored, as the tip began to leak clear pre-cum, you felt a hunger welling up deep within your chest and between your legs. You slowly began to take him into your mouth, securely holding his hips down in case he unconsciously thrusted up inside of you (though you weren’t opposed to the idea, you didn’t want him to wake up to the sound of you gagging). You took him down about half way, before delaying his gratification by withdrawing and, again, swirling your tongue around the tip. His entire body shifted this time, a soft, tired, breathless moan escaping his lips, sending a sharp pang of arousal deep into your lower belly. Your brain grew foggy, a wave of lust and adoration clouding your thoughts as you took him all the way, brow furrowed in concentration, wrangling in your gag reflex once the tip hit the back of your throat. He moaned again, and if it wasn’t the most beautiful, erotic sound. His voice was already gorgeous under normal circumstances, but especially in the morning, when it was tinged with the slightest bit of gravel and honey-like richness. It made you feel hopelessly needy, your own arousal, slick and hot, pooling between your thighs.

You continued with the same action, slowly taking him until he hit the back of your throat, then withdrawing, listening intently to the way his moans became more haggard and desperate—until about the fifth time, when you pulled him in completely, daring to swallow around him and practically choke yourself on his cock. You heard him gasp, a startled moan escaping him as you felt a hand grip the back of your head. Well, good morning, you thought, trying not to smile or laugh with a cock stuffed halfway down your throat. You drew up off of him, your eyes connecting with his sparkling blue ones, his pupils blown wide, noting how his adorable flush had spread up to his ears and down his neck. Before he could say anything, you took him again, setting a more intense pace now that he was awake.

“Fuck—,” he groaned loudly, hips stuttering as he carded his long, slender fingers through your hair, his other hand clinging to the one holding his hip. You laced your fingers through his own as you drew up off of him again, sucking on the tip almost obscenely before licking a firm stripe up the underside of his shaft.

“So good, love,” he praised, shuddering as he threw his head back onto the pillows, taking a handful of your hair and tugging slightly. Pulling him back into the slick heat of your mouth, you moaned around him, his breathless praise making your heart flutter. Feeling him throb inside of you, you moaned again, breathing out through your nose, before bracing yourself and taking him as far as you could go, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. He practically convulsed, making a delicious choked, startled noise when you felt him spill down your throat—hot, musky, and not entirely unpleasant. He held your head firm to him as he rode out his orgasm, a string of curses, praises, and broken moans leaving his exhausted body, before you tapped him twice on the hip, indicating that you needed to breathe.

“Ah, sorry—!” he startled, releasing you as you practically gasped for air, settling back onto your knees. He leaned up, reaching out to cradle your face with one hand, drawing a thumb along your cheekbone before hooking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His gentle touch made you shudder, closing your eyes as you steadied your breathing. Upon hearing your name, you opened them again, your heart swelling at your boyfriend’s tired gaze and dopey, lovestruck grin.

“I… I just—,” he started, stumbling over his syllables, drawing a hand back through his messy hair, “You— you’re so— ah, fuck it,” he gave up on words and decided to just pull you up into his lap instead. You laid on top of him, chest flush against his own as he drew you into a lazy, tender kiss, and you couldn’t help but hum at the way he slid his tongue lovingly between your lips. Cradling your chin, he broke the kiss, staring deep into your eyes.

“I love you,” he practically whispered, and you felt your face heat under his intense gaze. Suddenly feeling shy, despite the filthy things you just did to him, you hid your face into the crook of his neck.

“I… I love you too,” you squeaked. He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, and you could feel the vibrations of his voice beneath your flushed cheeks.

Sighing, you settled into him, listening to the rain and breathing in his warm scent as he came down from his high. You had almost dozed off again when he suddenly spoke.

“Ya know, if ya want me to do somethin’ for ya, I could—“

“Not right now,” you hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his neck, “Can we just stay like this, for a while?”

“Of course,” he replied, voice gentle and smooth as silk. He felt you smile against him, before you yawned dramatically, nuzzling further into him. He began tracing soothing circles into your back, sending tingles down your spine, and you quickly fell asleep to the sound of his breathing.

#piers x reader #piers pokemon x reader #piers #piers pokemon #swsh #pokemon sword #pokemon shield #pokemon piers x reader #pokemon piers #pokemon

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katehuntington · 4 years

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Title: In Bad Waters - part twelve Word count: ±2750 words Episode summary: Still in possession of the Winchesters’ belongings, Zoë meets up with the hunters on her next case. When it turns out to be a little more complicated than anticipated, she accepts their help in order to make an important deadline. Part twelve summary: The only way to find out the truth about Laura, is to start digging even deeper. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Descriptions of domestic violence/child abuse. Drug use/addiction. Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures/resuscitation. Swearing, alcoholism. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Descriptions of torture and murder, drowning. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09 and @deanwanddamons. Thanks, girls! Gif credit: @demondetoxmanual.

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E02 “In Bad Waters” Masterlist

“Dead as a dodo,” the oldest of the Winchester brothers states over the phone, as he exits Arkansas Methodist Medical Center, Zoë by his side. Before they drove to the hospital, the hunters dropped Sam off at the Shire residence, so that he could make sure the family wouldn’t get targeted. Laura has proven to be relentless, and they didn’t want to risk the family getting killed as well.

“Laura attacked him while other people were around?” Sam, who is on the line with his brother, is clearly surprised. “She didn’t. She waited until he went to the supply storage, alone,” Dean tells. “Same deal; beat up, broken neck.” Sam cuts to the chase. “We have to figure this out fast. The only other people who may know something about Laura’s location is what’s left of the Shire family.” “You got eyes?” Dean checks, knowing Sam is staking out the residence on Lake Front Lane. “Yeah. So far so good.” “Make sure he keeps them in sight at all costs. Use an excuse and get into the house if he has to,” Zoë suggests, only catching half of the conversation.

Dean glances aside at the woman next to him. She has changed into a clean shirt, one that doesn’t have her own blood on it. Back at the Hampton Inn, she taped her right side, relieving some of the pressure from her aching ribs. After a quick touch up of her hair and make-up, one could barely tell she just got attacked by an angry spirit. Her walk is slightly stiff, but the bruising she suffered is sufficiently masked, her brown curls falling over the gash on her hairline, which she closed with butterfly stitches.

With a groan she lowers herself in the front seat of the Impala, muttering ‘fuck’ under her breath when fractures send a sharp pain through her body. Dean notices when he gets into the car as well, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead he puts his phone on speaker, now that the Impala provides them the safety to talk freely. “Zo says that when you lose sight of them, you better get inside. Tell them you’re insurance or somethin’.”

“Will do. Did you guys manage to get Laura’s medical records?” “We did. Let’s see what we have here.” The older Winchester pulls a folder from the inside of his leather coat. He opens it, about to leaf through the documents, when Zoë snatches it from his hands. “Hey!” “Like you could make sense of what’s in here,” she scolds.

She wets her finger and flips the page. A huff escapes her throat as she reads the file, shaking her head, disapproving. “1999, age four; skull fracture of the parietal, supposedly fell off her bike. 2001, age six; fracture of the left ulna. 2003, age eight, multiple fractures, right radius, she needed surgery for that. Same year, broken carpal bones, right wrist, this time it was the trampoline's fault. It goes on.” “Fucking bastard…” Dean scoffs. “And no one picked up on this?” Sam wonders. “Perks of the dad being Chief of surgery.” Zoë holds an X-ray against the light. “Good news for us is that we should be able to determine now if it’s Laura in that grave or not. Especially her right arm, which was screwed back together.”

“Only one way to find out. Looks like your gonna pay Linwood Cemetery another visit,” Dean says, turning the key in the ignition. The V8 engine comes to life with a roar, a song by The Kinks called ‘You Really Got Me’ playing on the local radio station.

“You know you and Zo have to stick together, right?” Sam brings to mind. “Say what?” Dean replies, puzzled, before he pulls away from the curb. “He’s right.” Zoë backs up the younger Winchester’s statement, glancing at the driver next to her. “Laura kills everyone who stops her, but only if they are alone. We already know she’s after me, and now you shot her through the head, so I’m guessing you moved up her murder list.” “Well that’s a comforting thought.” Dean breathes out, once realization sets in. “What about you, Sam?” “I don’t think she’ll come after me. I never actually had contact with her, unlike you guys,” Sam explains. “So basically, I’m stuck with her?” Dean nods his head at the young woman next to him, even though his brother can’t see it. “Hey, still in the car,” Zoë snarls, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She then continues to correct herself, in her usual brazenness. “Excuse my French. I’m still in the ‘67 Chevrolet Impala.”

Dean’s jaw clenches as he fights the urge to pull the gun from the glove compartment and shoot her. He’s getting pretty tired of her smartass comments. “He has a point, though,” Sam intervenes. “Whatever happens, you two have to stick together, or it will be the end of you. The second one of you ends up alone…” Sam leaves the rest of the words unsaid, because no one needs to hear them to understand. If Dean and Zoë get separated, they will die, and especially the huntress is not particularly happy about that matter.

“Great. My lucky day,” Zoë mutters sarcastically, after which she looks away and watches the houses rush by. “Do I have to remind you that I just saved your ass?” Dean recalls. The huntress huffs, of course he has to bring that up. “I didn't need your--” “Oh, come on! Don't start that bullshit with me,” the oldest Winchester counters, letting out a laugh. No way in hell she’s going to win this argument. “What were you planning to do exactly after Laura pinned you to the wall and was a second from snapping your neck, huh?”

“Could you two stop bitching at each other for one fucking second?!” Dean looks at the phone on the dashboard. For a moment there, he forgot Sam was still a part of this conversation. The younger Winchester clearly has had enough of their bickering and fighting, because it’s not often that the respectable sibling curses. The outburst helps, because both shut up instantly.

“Thank you,” Sam sighs and continues on his theory. “Dean, you dig up that body, I’ll keep an eye on the Shires.” The Impala comes to a stop before a traffic light, crossing cars not allowing Dean to run the stop sign. “What about Miss Congeniality over here?” “She can’t dig. She broke her ribs.” Sam states, matter of factly.

Zoë, who still had her arms crossed in front of her, now turns herself to watch the hunter’s reaction. The amusement that bubbles inside of her makes it impossible to suppress the wide smirk on her lips when she notices Dean translating the true meaning of Sam’s message. For once in her life, she is not going to disagree with Sam, because this is playing itself out beautifully. “So, I’m gonna have to dig up a coffin while she stands there being pretty?!” he almost exclaims. “Ah-uh.” “I have no issues with that, whatsoever.” Zoë agrees, adding fuel to the fire. “Of course you don’t, you--” Dean shuts himself up, biting his tongue before he says something he might regret. He’s only at an arm's length away from her, plus he’s driving his precious car. The huntress might be hurt, but she can still do some serious damage. “Alright, Sammy. You stay put, and be careful, okay?” he presses. “Who knows what that mini poltergeist has up her sleeve.” “I’ll be safe,” his younger brother promises. “You guys too, alright? See you in a bit.”

The sun is about to sink behind the horizon and golden hour is upon them. The heavens are colored in a dark shade of blue, gradually turning lighter in the west, where apricot and merigold fire up the sky. It’s getting chilly, autumn bringing down the temperatures at dusk. Nocturnal animals come to life, a barn owl hooting in the distance. The cemetery’s gates closed an hour ago, offering the hunters the peace and quiet needed to stay undetected.

This time it’s not the huntress who is shuffling dirt. In fact, she’s casually sitting on the tombstone next to Laura’s, her legs crossed like the lady that she is, watching Dean do all the hard work. While filing her nails, Zoë cannot help but admire the scenery, and it’s not the pretty sunset. The Winchester in her company is working his way into the ground, scooping dirt over his shoulder with steady amounts. He shed his jacket and his grey shirt is clinging to his clammy torso, perspiration shimmering on his exposed skin. Muscles roll beneath the fabric of the thin tee and his biceps flex with every motion, a glimpse of a tattoo peeking from under the right sleeve. The huntress might want to bite his head off most of the time, but even she has to admit; Dean’s is easy on the eyes.

“Like what you see?” Dean grins mischievously, having noticed her appreciating looks. Zoë isn’t at all thrown off balance by his remark, however. “Really? You objectify women all the fucking time, and you’re calling me out?” “Touché,” he chuckles, not slowing down for a second. “Just sayin’, the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid.” Zoë scoffs, finding his assumption entertaining. “Keep on dreaming, Casanova. I’m more likely to die before ending up between the sheets with you.”

“Well…” Dean swings more ground out of the hole, groaning at the increasing ache in his left shoulder. His eyes are still mischievous, and so is the smirk on his lips. “Let’s get that mini poltergeist off your tail, and we’ll talk again.” Zoë rolls her eyes. This arrogant prick doesn’t know when to stop, does he? “Like I said; keep on dreaming. Now what the hell is taking you so long?” she judges. “It’s only six feet and the ground is already loose.” “Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe if you hadn't put a bullet in my shoulder two days ago, I’d dig a little faster!” Dean snaps, glaring at the person who has been giving him orders all day. “Don’t be such a baby. It didn’t even hit the joint,” Zoë scoffs, blowing the dusty residue from her fingertips. “Now would you hurry it up? I have places to be.”

Gritting his teeth, the hunter dumps another load of soil on the grass besides the grave. I swear to God, one of these days a spirit will be the last of her worries. “Maybe if you had paid attention when you fucking lit the kid in the first place, you could’ve left town hours ago.” “Maybe if your brother hadn’t distracted me, I would have. But you asshats tend to ruin other people's cases,” Zoë counters, rapidly. “Hey, we are just trying to help! Do I have to remind you who’s doing the actual dirty work here?” Dean pauses his actions. “Why don’t you get off your throne of thorns, princess. I’m nearly there.”

Zoë cocks back her head back; did he just call her ‘princess’? Her eyes shoot flames at the intolerable guy, her mouth opening to send back a remark, when the metal shovel collides with the wooden casket. The hollow sound catches Zoë’s attention and she gets up. “Fucking finally.”

Dean hoists himself out of the hole, making room to lift up the lid and exposing the remains. He was going to offer the huntress a hand to get into the grave, but he can’t be bothered now; she can figure out how to lower herself if she’s being such a bitch. She doesn’t ask either, and sits down on the edge, sliding down with a grunt. The older Winchester watches her descent, the light of her flashlight shimmering on his features as she turns it on and places it on the corner of the coffin.

“How are we supposed to tell if this is Laura or not? You already burned her bones to crisp,” Dean wonders, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “Because they aren’t burned to crisp. A salt and burn doesn’t actually destroy them like an oven would when cremated,” the huntress explains wisely, pulling on a pair of latex gloves from her pocket and putting them on as she crouches down.

“So what’s the crime scene telling you, Horatio?” Dean wonders, shining his flashlight down on the skeleton. Zoë doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she clears the burned clothing and half deteriorated skin and muscle tissue from the right arm of the girl in the coffin. She rubs her thumb over the radius bone, swiping away the ash and grime. There are no signs of a healed break, nor has the arm ever been screwed and bolted back together. “This isn’t Laura,” she knows. “Well, shit,” Dean responds, staggered. “If this ain’t her, then where the hell is she?” “Good question.” Zoë rises again, going over the clues they have gathered so far. “Let’s head to the Shire house, get back to Sam. We gotta figure this out, fast.”

The two hunters pack up, Dean hauling the dirt back into the grave while Zoë gathers his jacket and the torches. It takes him less longer than digging the hole in the first place, even though he has to bite through the pain. Not wanting to let Zoë know and give him a reason to scold him again, he keeps his mouth shut.

Thirty minutes later, the driver of the Chevrolet settles down on the front seat, closing the door behind him. “Where to?” Zoë has already pulled her laptop out, studying the map of Paragould on the screen. “Highway 412 up west, right on Reynolds Road, and then take left on Reynolds Park Road.” Dean guides the Chevrolet back onto the street, focused on traffic while the passenger takes in the moving world outside the window. The sinking sun sends an orange glow through the Impala, reflecting on the polished hood of the classic car. They are losing light, they are losing time.

When the driver glances aside briefly, he detects the pondering frown knitted between Zoë’s eyebrows. “Do you happen to see any bright ideas in that thousand mile stare?” he wonders. “We can’t split up, so we have to find Laura’s body and figure out how she relocates with the information we already have,” she says, thinking out loud. Dean brainstorms. “Maybe the way she relocates is a clue on itself.”

Zoë lets the air fall from her lips while thinking about that, trying to make sense of it all. “She can jump houses, but stays in a certain area. The principal’s home, the hospital, the Dawlson’s house, they are not far from each other, but what connects them?” “When you saw her, she was wet through, right? That has to mean something,” the older Winchester brother contemplates. “Yeah, but doesn’t make any sense. We know she didn’t drown,” she ponders, glancing aside at the driver as he turns on Reynolds Park Road. “What if it has something to do with the cover up of her cause of death and not with her death itself?” Dean brings to mind.

Suddenly, it clicks. Her eyes grow wide as she straightens herself, her eyes now locked on what’s in front of her. The Reynolds Park Lake comes into view, the last of the evening light reflecting on the surface. It seems peaceful and quiet at this hour, but it becomes very clear to her that these waters hold a dark secret. “The lake…” she huffs. “The park lake has a water purification system. It provides water to the town.” Dean follows her gaze. It only takes a second before the penny drops. “So that’s how she travels.”

It all makes sense now. Why Sam’s vision showed the sprinklers when he saw Taylor Dawlson get attacked. Why the faucets in Zoë’s hotel room opened right before she manifested. She’s not six feet in the ground, she’s six feet under water. “Little Laura took a swim,” Zoë realizes.

Stunned that they actually managed to crack the case, she glances aside at the green-eyed hunter, who shares a knowing look with her, a small smirk playing on his lips. They finally know what happened, before and after the girl’s death. All they have to do now is find the remains so they can put the spirit to rest, and who knows, maybe Zoë will make that deadline after all.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read chapter thirteen here

#Supernatural: the Sullivan Series #Supernatural OFC #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester fanfiction #Supernatural fanfiction #SPN #Supernatural #STSS #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Zoë Sullivan #1x02 In Bad Waters #Kate Huntington

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bylerchoseme · 5 years

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Anna’s love for Elsa (An in depth analysis)

The Next Right Thing was specifically written for Anna to show the audience the intensity of Anna’s love for Elsa. The truth of the matter is there is only darkness for Anna when Elsa isn’t a part of her life. We saw her fall into depression because her star supposedly died. She was ready to surrender herself. There is no life for Anna without Elsa. This bothers people.

Anna being in love with Elsa and wanting to follow her everywhere she goes doesn’t make her Co-Dependent. She needs to be with the love of her life. Co-Dependent is a label used by people that want to avoid the Elsanna ship or don’t want to admit the truth behind why Anna is acting this way. The term is overused and repeated many times. It would be out of character for Anna to leave Elsa alone when she feels something beyond sisterly feelings.

As difficult as it may be for some people to grasp, Anna is coded as being in love with Elsa. If you want to see it, it’s there in front of you. If you don’t want to see it, it’s still there regardless. Her story is being told in a very blatant way. A lot of people are questioning things between Anna and Elsa (more than ever before) and I will respect the integrity of these people by not making their comments public.

For a sisterly dynamic, boundaries need to be met. Anna and Elsa have no filter especially Anna. Disney didn’t even try to hide anything either. Their comment about not listening to fans demands and writing the story they want to tell ties into this too. Over the years Elsanna became very popular and people complained about shipping two sisters. They could have been written lightly in the second film to not give fans more reasons to love Anna and Elsa together romantically. However, the opposite happened.

In Frozen 2, Anna found reasons to touch Elsa. Some Things Never Change is at the beginning of the movie. Anna and Elsa were holding hands shortly during this song and at the end Anna pulled Elsa in for a tight hug. It’s the how she does it that gets to me. She extends her hand like a partner would and looked at her in a particular way. She didn’t hesitate waiting one second before bringing her closer. They appeared to be in a relationship.

Call me crazy but every new scene Anna shared with Elsa further validated how deeply, truly, and irrevocably Anna was in love with Elsa. I’ve never seen a character so willing to go to such lengths for someone and not giving it second thought. Anna teaches us about patience, loyalty, trust, certainty, and determination. She is something else. She is the first character I came across that became a game changer.

The only consistency in all of Frozen is Anna’s love for Elsa. Anna has never (not once) second guessed herself when it came to Elsa. Her feelings for Elsa didn’t change before, during, and after the six years. Elsa was a constant in her life. The writers didn’t ruin this part of Frozen. When we begin to consider everything, Anna hasn’t been out of character when it came to Elsa. She loved her then and now maybe even more.

I didn’t think it was possible for Anna to fall harder for Elsa. She proved me wrong. Her heart has unlimited love for Elsa on an unreachable level. I could even call it ‘the rarest of the rarest love.’ It means exactly as it sounds.Her love for Elsa is unstoppable. We’ve seen how far that love went.

Anna climbed the North mountain for Elsa. She froze for Elsa. She went into fire for Elsa. She did The Next Right Thing for Elsa. She jumped a cliff, put herself in danger with the trolls, and stood on the Dam as the stones were coming at her in memory of Elsa. I know this sounds a bit absurd but let me explain. She fought hard to not survive. She didn’t want to live. She wanted to die and forget her misery.

There isn’t anything Anna wouldn’t do for Elsa. She loves her more than humanely possible. To love someone so much is to love like you’ve never loved someone at all. Elsa is her first, only, and last love. She is absolutely crazy about her. I am not sure if Anna is aware of the degree of her love for Elsa. She doesn’t have to think about it.

Anna’s love for Elsa has been emphasized intensively in both films and the shorts. All of her actions, words, and tone of voice when she says certain words aren’t light. She doesn’t know how to be a sister. That’s not her fault. She wasn’t raised to be a sisterly figure to Elsa. She doesn’t want to be a sister to her even by choice.

A saying I came up with is “Sisters by chance, lovers by choice.” You don’t choose who to love. Love chooses you. It’s almost like Disney wanted reactions out of us in regards to Anna and Elsa to sell their original idea of romantic love interests. We saw right through them. The truth eventually comes out. They should have made Anna and Elsa friends.

Anna climbed the North Mountain for Elsa and they were strangers. She didn’t know anything about her and yet she was willing to fight for her no matter the outcome. How do you go so far for someone you barely even knew or know at the time? What was her motivation? Why did she do this? The answer is simple. I don’t even have to explain anything. Elsa was a mystery. Anna wanted to know that side of her because she wanted to be the first person to let her in while everyone else was scared.

Next thing you know... Anna froze for Elsa. The question about whether or not she knew she would die is somewhat subjective. I guess there is a part of her that didn’t care either way. The point is she gave her life. She died loving Elsa. I know some people like to say she would have eventually unfroze with or without Elsa’s love but the message is true love. A hug broke the spell and brought her back to life. She needed to feel Elsa’s love.

Following Elsa into fire went along the lines of “If you die, we die together.” There wasn’t another option. Anna experienced life and death situations for Elsa. The possibility of dying from fire exposure didn’t cross her mind when Elsa was in trouble. She wanted to save her even if she didn’t make it. Anna’s loyalty to Elsa is everlasting. She will go the distance for her no matter how far or life threatening.

The cliff jump was reckless. She didn’t have any ounce of guilt. She wanted to be where Elsa was and was determined to get there somehow. I watched this sequence a few times and noticed how little she paid attention to reaching the other side. If she didn’t make it, she didn’t make it. If she made it, she made it. Her mind was already dark. She was long gone.

Finally, the dam moment. That’s the final moment of Anna. I keep imagining the stones not missing and hitting her directly. Only when the dam was collapsing did she attempt to fight for her life but when you consider the proximity of the stones when the giants first started throwing them, she wanted to be hit. There wasn’t a response from her at all. That’s how little she cared about living. This is all as a result of Elsa presumed dead. Anna’s story arc was dark. We didn’t see her like this before because she had nothing to lose until she lost everything.

A small part of me wishes the writers followed through with Elsa’s death to show the full impact on Anna coping with the loss of her true love. The story would have changed drastically. I know this would have been too much for a children’s movie but death is inevitable. Elsa dying over the separation makes sense. I have a head-canon about Anna finding Elsa dead. I feel like Elsa should have been washed on shore from the sea and Anna seeing her lifeless body and as she held her singing her solo number. Now of course I don’t want Elsa dead which is why there would be a twist in the story-line.

Anna’s love for Elsa is permanent. If she were to stop loving Elsa, it would be a shock and character assassination. I can’t fathom Anna putting anyone above Elsa. That’s wishful thinking for some people. Whenever I think she could not love her more, she proves me wrong. Elsa gives Anna reasons to keep falling in love with her even though she hurts her. Love isn’t meant to be busy.

Find someone that loves you as much as Anna loves Elsa. To say that’s impossible would be an understatement of the year. No one except Anna is capable of loving a person in such a jaw dropping way. That’s why there are struggles in real life relationships. No ones love for another comes close to Anna’s love for Elsa. I’m not exaggerating. I mean it.

Elsa is very lucky to have Anna. No one can love her like Anna which is why Elsa being in a relationship with anyone else is unrealistic. They can’t give her what Anna does. She is all set. No one can come in between them. Elsa has to stay single.

Another part of me wonders if Anna was the one to die, how would Elsa deal with that? Imagine Anna breaking the dam to fulfill the last right thing and Elsa returning to her sister dead. Elsa learning Anna saved her but had to die in the process would be devastating. She would be faced with a dilemma. Neither deserves to suffer. However, I am imagining different possibilities.

Fate decided Anna had to fall in love with Elsa. Fate is always certain. Things happen for a reason. Anna and Elsa use the word sister or sis so loosely. Just because they say it doesn’t mean that’s how they feel. Actions speak louder than words. Words have to mean something. That’s why the sis and sister label doesn’t translate well.

Anna is usually the first one to initiate something with Elsa. She needs her touch. She needs her closeness. She needs to feel her. She needs it all. I can’t remember a time when Anna didn’t want to be in physical contact with Elsa. She would hold her forever if time were to freeze and let them be.

It takes determination to show up at Elsa’s closed door everyday for 13 years. Anna had hope they would one day come face to face. She tried everything she could to be a constant in Elsa’s life even though a door was blocking them. Love is a powerful force in the world. If you believe in love, anything is possible. She was dedicated. She didn’t leave Elsa behind.

One of the saddest moments is Anna’s last memory of Elsa before she died. She was angry with her. Little did Anna know that might’ve been the last time she saw Elsa alive. Somewhere along the way, Anna forgave her. Staying mad at her for too long isn’t in Anna’s personality. On the bright side...she was able to hug Elsa before her world crashed down.

Anna’s love for Elsa is immerse. She loves her wholeheartedly. She gives so much of her heart to Elsa. If only we could all feel the same love Elsa does whenever Anna does something for her or delivers a heartfelt speech. Fantasy overtook reality in the sense it’s our reality.

Anna’s love for Elsa may have ruined romance for me. In other words, Elsanna is the summary of my relationship. Watching Anna love Elsa makes me not want a romantic partner in real life because it won’t measure up to that. She raised the bar of how a person should be loved.

Elsa ruined Anna for other people. The struggles of being related to Elsa must be complicated for Anna or are they of the same blood? Unless you’re Elsa, the chances of having a successful future with Anna decreases the odds. Is there anyone more compatible for Anna than Elsa? No. They can relate to each other. They have history.

To sum up Anna’s love for Elsa......Frozen 2 was a love letter indeed. It was a love letter because Anna couldn’t deny her love for Elsa. Rather than a typical love letter, it was a love letter come to life. Anna was living in her love for her true love. True love is a constant reminder for Anna and Elsa. Anna should have sang this phrase “Some things stay the same like the love that I feel for her.” This is Anna’s story.

#elsanna #elsa and anna #frozen 2 #frozen

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thomaslightwood · 4 years

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A Kind of Magic

Chapter three: Pain is so close to pleasure

When your plans go wrong - you turn out the light

But inside of your mind you put up a fight

Where are the answers that we're all searching for

(recommend, but not necessary to read/hear the song)

• • •

His hair is black, Thomas thought, marveling at it.

He knew that Alastair's natural color is black but had never seen it. Until now.

Thomas wanted to touch it. It would be weird just to do it, but he was really tempted.

It would be soft, he thought. It looked so soft. Thomas imagined it between his fingers, how he runs his hand through it, the little curls escaping, cuddling his skin...

“Thomas,” he felt warm hand on his own and with surprise found out it was Alastair's. His breath stopped but Alastair didn't seems to notice. His palm was calloused against Tom's wrists. The hand of a fighter. “Do you heard what I asked?”

Thomas felt his face hot. The other man raised an eyebrow at him.

“I'm sorry, what were you talking about?” he asked, very embarrassed.

Alastair didn't look annoyed though. Actually, in his eyes had amusement. Like Thomas reaction was not what he expected but he likes it.

Alastair moved away his hand and Thomas missed it immediately.

“I said that I heard there is some strange demon activity. Is that true?”

Thomas suddenly felt anxious. This time it had nothing to do with the dark-haired person in front of him.

“Yes, that's true,” he admitted, talking a little bit quieter. “In South London, around Brixton. At the moment the Enclave has a meeting for it.”

His father and mother were at it, and Will Herondale. He was actually relieved that it was a day now because if not he was sure his parents would go to check themselves.

“Is it really that serious?” Alastair asked, a little bit surprise in his voice.

Thomas hesitated for a moment. He wasn't sure what he could tell or even how true was his information. But he didn't see the point of hiding it. The people would know it soon anyway.

“Honestly, I don't know much myself. What is known for now is that the Shadowhunters who go to hunt there almost never return. These who do are badly injured and say that there is some kind of a demon that they have never see before.”

There was no joy on Alastair's face anymore but a deep frown.

“How long has this been going on?” he asked.

“No one is absolutely sure but around three or four days maybe,” Thomas answered. “I guess we will know more after the meeting.” Or at least he hoped so.

Alastair's frown deepen.

“It's impossible to be something that no one has never seen before.”

Thomas shook his head.

“I don't know,” he answered honestly. “My parents are at the meeting. I believe they could find solution.”

Alastair looked thoughtful and even a little worried. Perhaps to find out there was some kind of new demon when you and your family just arrived at the town weren't the best news.

Thomas felt bad. It would be better if he kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to see Alastair unhappy. But it was always better to know the truth.

“Hey, do you want to get out of here?” Thomas asked suddenly. He wanted to distract Alastair a bit.

Alastair's eyes widened a little. “What?!”

“Come on,” Thomas said hopefully. “I want to show you something.”

Alastair hesitated.

“But I have to attend. We can't just leave, can we?” He looked around the ballroom which was full of laughing and dancing people. Then at Thomas' hopeful eyes. And sighed. “Let's do it.”

After Alastair and Thomas secretly left they caught a carriage. Thomas didn't want to reveal where they were going so he said a place near their real destination. He was almost sure Alastair didn't know London well enough to recognize the name even if Thomas did say it but he didn't want to risk it.

After they were left on the beginning of Victoria Bridge, together they started walking along the water. The few mundanes and automobiles that was passing couldn't see them. Thomas felt more at place when people couldn't see him rather on sort of events like the ball.

“You don't like crowds, do you?” Alastair asked quietly.

Thomas gave him a surprised look.

“Yes, that's right. They make me anxious since I was young.” Thomas was silent for a moment. “I... I didn't think you remember.”

Alastair didn't answer. They kept walking together, while the sun was slowly beginning to set.

“So where are we going?” Alastair finally asked.

“You will see.”

They were silent while walking. But it wasn't uncomfortable at all. Actually, Thomas felt very pleasantly. Alastair Carstairs wasn't a friend but walks with him were Thomas' favorites. Which was strange though. But thinking about it now he realized that it was a simple truth. It wasn't he didn't like to be with his friends. But Lucie and especially Matthew always wanted to make small talk which Thomas didn't like. James and Christopher were nicer but Jamie was always reading some book and Kit was often very distracted and thought about other things. But with Alastair he felt calm. Like he was a longtime friend or... a lover.

Thomas stopped his thoughts immediately. Alastair was none of that. Though Thomas really wanted to be. A friend. A lover. Both. None. He wasn't sure. But what he did know was that he wanted to be close to Alastair no matter what.

“Here we are,” Thomas said when they came at the end of the bridge.

“This is a park,” Alastair said, looking around curiously. There was a endless size of trees and greenery. The entrance was open and just now a few people came out. The paths were extensive and clean. There were benches in every few meters. It was almost evening and there weren't many mundanes.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Battersea Park. Do you want to go there?” Thomas asked hopefully.

“Of course,” Alastair smiled a little. “Why not?”

They entered. This was one of Tom's favorite places in London. When his surrounding became too much he came here. He had never told a soul about it before. It was his very private spot where he could be alone for a few hours. He wasn't sure why he wanted to show it to Alastair. To bring him here felt like giving him a part of himself. To break his own heart into pieces so he could give Alastair one of them.

Love is painful, Thomas thought. But pain is so close to pleasure.

He looked at Alastair out the corner of his eye. His heart was beating so fast he had a feeling it was going to jump out of his chest.

The sun was setting behind him. Looking at Alastair who seemed to enjoy the light breeze with a smile and closed eyes, Thomas felt like he was out of breath. He sensed the world like he was underwater. The sight in front of him was so beautiful that made his heart ache.

“Adelbaram,” fell from Thomas' lips, involuntarily, and the wind carried his quiet words to Alastair's ears.

The Persian opened his dark eyes and looked at Thomas. There was shock. And something else. Thomas' broke the eye contact because he didn't think he could bear to see the disgust on Alastair's face.

“What... did you just say?” his voice was strange. Guttural.

Thomas didn't look at him. He could hear, feel, how Alastair approached him. He grabbed his arm, right under the tattoo.

“What did you call me?”

Thomas was a fool. He was too used to people around him to misunderstand what he murmured. But Alastair was Persian. He could understand what he said pretty well. Or maybe he said it in Persian on purpose? Did really one part of him wanted Alastair to know it so bad?

Thomas let out a breath. He returned to London with the thought he was better now. That he wasn't the sicky little boy who everyone took care of anymore. Thomas wanted to be brave.

He looked right into Alastair's eyes. He couldn't believe he was doing this.

“I called you,” Thomas began, placing gently his hand on the lower part of Alastair's arm, “the thief of my heart.“

So many emotions crossed Alastair's face. And so fast. For a second or two. Thomas couldn't recognize any. Then it became an ice mask.

Dear Raziel, what have I did?

Anxiety grabbed Thomas. He waited. And waited. He wanted Alastair to say something. Something.

But there was only silence.

• • •

As it seems there had happened interesting things at the ball. The morning, while Barbara, Thomas and their parents sat at the table for breakfast, his sister told them.

For a start, the Blackthorns appeared. Gideon tensed.

“All three of them?” He asked.

He and Uncle Gabriel weren't in good relationship with their sister.

“That's right,” said Barbara. “It was a shock for everyone.”

It was for Thomas as well. The Blackthorns had lived in Chiswick for a few months already but they very rarely come to some social event and definitely not all of them.

“How did they look?” Sophie asked while drinking her tea. “Were there any problems?”

“Well,” Barbara looked unsure. “They seemed fine. But aunt Tatiana didn't let them talk with neither me, nor uncle Gabriel and aunt Cecily. The Herondales too. I couldn't introduce myself to them.”

“Only Raziel knows what Tatiana is thinking,” murmured his father but the words was intended to his mother. Sophie whispered something to him which made Gideon smile softly at her.

Thomas thought about his cousins. He had never met them but he had wished to talk to them more than once before. Especially Jesse Blackthorn. Thomas knew that he was sick child too and really wanted to talk with someone with the same condition as his when he was little.

Barbara kept talking about the ball. Their parents were interested to hear what happened but not Thomas. The only thing that he wanted was to finish his breakfast so he can go help Lucie with the translation. Maybe this could distract him a bit.

“What happened at the meeting though?” Barbara asked and drank from her tea. This caught his attention.

“It was longer then expected,” Sophie said. “But useful.”

“We got new information from the injured ones,” his father said. “The Silent brothers told us. But it was confusing at first.”

“What do you mean?” Thomas asked, the first thing he said this morning.

His mother eyed him.

“Some of them said at first they thought that were Moloch or Iblis demons but there was too much fire. None of them could say what exactly are these creatures and no one recognized them the Codex,” his mother shook her head.

“Everyone was worried,” Gideon added, puting a hand on his wife's shoulder. “In the end we decided we have to restrict distribution as much as possible.”

“Are you saying this new demon is trying to seize the whole London?” Thomas asked surprised. How strong these demons could be to not be able to be stopped by so many Shadowhunters?

“Unfortunately, yes,” Gideon said. “It's observed the same demon activity in Camberwell and we will try to stop it from going in west and north now.”

Thomas wasn't feeling good enough for this conversation. Without finishing his breakfast he excused himself and rose from the table. Shortly after that he left the house.

Thomas' body was so heavy. His mind was a little unclear. The night was restless for him. He needed sleep, he knew. He needed to forget. No, he needed to get back in the time to make himself to not say a damn word to Alastair.

Alastair, Alastair, Alastair.

So in love, he thought bitterly, but love had a bad reaction.

While he climbed into the Lightwood carriage, Thomas suddenly missed Eugenia who was in Idris now.

She often was sharp but has a soft side which was saved mostly for her little brother. Maybe she wouldn't say the most soothing thing but would tell you the truth the way it is - imperfect, sometimes painful but always better then a lie.

Thomas remembered what she once told him. He was feeling very weak that day and everyone was trying to make him feel better.

Eugenia sat then on his bed, held his hand and said “Some days you're feeling good, some days you're feeling bad,” she gently ran her hand through his hair. “And if you're feeling happy someone else is always sad. And if you're feeling sad someone else is always happy. This is the way things are, Tom-Tom. So the least thing you can do is to make yourself better. To always try to make feeling yourself well and happy. Because when you are fine you can try to make people around you to feel fine too.”

Thomas had always tried to follow her advice. As much as possible. But it hasn't been so hard until now.

• • •

A/N: Here Jesse is 16-17. How you ask? Well, I don’t know but he is.

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beca-mitchell · 5 years

Text

life as we know it (1/1)

Summary: After Beca's miscarriage, the road to healing is a long one. Their first night out together in a while proves to be more difficult than expected.

Word count: 2.7k

continuation from this. Part of now i see daylight—an au series that explores beca and chloe’s lives together as if they had been childhood friends.

A/N: this universe is the work-product of hours of hc'ing with @asimplefavors, so just assume all ideas are things we've discussed. <3 in this universe, beca and chloe are high school sweethearts.

Warning for angst and mention/reference to a miscarriage.

read below or on AO3.

——————————

“I never want to be without you again.”

“I never left.”

“I know, but it felt like you did and that’s what hurt the most.”

Blinking at her reflection, Beca murmurs a quiet thanks at both her stylist and her make-up artist as they quietly mill about behind her packing up their things.

It feels odd, as it has for the past while, to be preparing to go out when it still feels like she ought to be grieving. The aches and pains—the physical ones—have long faded and she has been spending more time in the studio, slowly getting her bearings again. Though she is technically on a break from the album she had been working on before and during her pregnancy, she still thinks about the music she had been creating—the music she had anticipated being read just in time for their baby, but—

She inhales deeply.

Music has never felt more soothing or poignant.

Though she still shares her music with Chloe from time to time, there has been a very specific solitude she has received from simply immersing herself in music again.

But more than that—losing herself in the love she feels for Chloe, their life together, and their baby who didn’t make it, but who will forever be so, so loved and cherished. All of that, translated into music and memories to be cherished forever.

Beca attempts a smile at herself in the mirror.

Chloe’s quiet gasp draws Beca out of her musings.

“You look beautiful,” Chloe murmurs, pulling Beca towards her for a quick kiss. Beca finds it amusing that for how much Chloe hadn’t given a second thought about PDA in high school, Chloe is now the more reserved one between the two of them.

It’s charming.

“Wait,” Beca pleads, wanting to feel Chloe’s warmth against her for just a few seconds more. Her stylist can wait a few measly seconds. “There,” she mumbles against Chloe’s mouth, purposefully sliding her hand up Chloe’s back to send a shiver down Chloe’s spine. Pleased with her own ministrations, Beca pulls back, taking care to ensure that Chloe’s lipstick is as pristine as it was before.

“You two,” Beca’s make-up artist says lightly from where she’s packing up her things. “I’m not fixing anything,” she sing-songs.

Beca smiles up at her girifriend who returns the smile with equal energy. “There’s nothing to fix,” she promises, speaking directly to Chloe. “I’m going to have the best-looking woman on my arm.”

Chloe’s smile threatens to turn into a smirk, but she maintains innocence long enough. “Flatterer.”

Though Beca feels light at the moment, an undercurrent of nervous anticipation rushes through her. This is the first event she and Chloe are attending together ever since the miscarriage and though their relationship is pretty much back at where it was before everything nearly fell apart, it wasn’t without hard work and pain. One month after Chloe finally broke down in her arms, clutching at Beca with the desperation of somebody on the brink of total collapse--one month and eight joint therapy sessions later--Beca finally feels like she’s close to whole.

So while flirting with Chloe openly is only a mask to hide her nerves, she still thinks Chloe is the most beautiful woman she has ever laid eyes on. She softens her gaze, allowing herself to sink into the sensation of being so in love with the woman standing in front of her; it is gratefulness and happiness and passion all at once--Chloe, who has been there for everything, will continue to be there (so long as you let me, Chloe had said with tears in her eyes).

“What?” Chloe finally asks when she senses the change in Beca’s demeanor.

“Nothing,” Beca responds. She reaches out to hold Chloe’s hand. “I’m just happy.”

She’s telling the truth.

“Me too,” Chloe says.

Beca knows Chloe is telling the truth as well.

——————————

The event is close-knit enough that Beca doesn’t feel any of the usual anxiety she feels whenever she goes to industry events. She can tell Chloe also feels a small measure of comfort having met many of the attendees as well. It is still surreal to both of them—Chloe more so than Beca—that this is their life now. By virtue of Beca's status as a celebrity and recording artist with a major label, they mingle regularly with celebrities. This event in particular is a moderately-sized event—honouring some of the older, well-respected music industry executives. It means the flashy celebrity turn-out is low to medium at best, which seemed like a fitting way to make a public appearance. Beca barely knows the honorees, but she supposes showing her face can’t hurt every now and then.

Her label’s president immediately swoops in front of her for a quick conversation. Chloe smiles and kisses her cheek, murmuring that she’ll come back with drinks.

In the past few weeks, Beca realizes then that she and Chloe hadn’t really spent too much time apart. It’s the only explanation for the loss she feels so keenly even though Chloe is just across the room.

“—Beca?”

Beca startles back to the present, flicking her eyes guiltily back to Tom who smiles at her knowingly. “Sorry,” she says quickly. “What, um—?”

“Never gets old, huh?” he asks, tipping his wine glass in her direction.

“What doesn’t?”

“Being in love.”

Beca feels the blush spread across her cheeks and down her neck all at once. “Oh, well, I don’t know if—” At his raised eyebrow, she shrugs helplessly and cuts herself off. “I don’t know where I’d be without her.”

“Well, behind every great artist,” he says lightly.

Chloe appears by Beca’s side again. “Is an even greater woman?” she asks with a pleasant lilt to her voice.

Beca grins, accepting the glass. “Took you long enough.”

“Well, I was going to say a great partner,” Tom corrects. He holds his hand out to shake Chloe’s hand. “Tom Mackay. A pleasure to meet you formally. Beca never shuts up about you.”

“He’s the big guy up there,” Beca clarifies for Chloe, talking over Tom.

“Chloe,” Chloe says after nudging Beca lightly with her shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Tom.”

They are soon joined by a couple, Dan Freeman and his wife Robin.

"So, Chloe," Dan begins in a tone that already has Beca rolling her eyes. She’s never particularly enjoyed his company, but he’s such a solid sound engineer that she begrudgingly admires his talent and tolerates him at least half of the time. "This one is always spending time in the studio, especially recently.” He tilts his head towards Beca. “I bet you’ll be glad when she’s finally done with this album.”

Beca clears her throat. “I’m actually taking a break,” she reminds him stiffly. “Remember?” Chloe, for her part, has not tensed up uncomfortably next to Beca, but instead tucks her hand neatly into the crook of Beca’s elbow. A quick glance shows a gentle smile on Chloe’s face as her eyes flicker to Beca’s.

“I’m grateful for Beca all the time,” Chloe says simply.

Robin coos at them and leans into Dan. “Look at them, why can’t we be more like them?”

Beca tries not to smile too smugly at her coworker, but a small measure of self-satisfaction seeps through nonetheless.

“How long have you two been together again?”

“It’ll be seven years next month,” Beca replies, unable to resist smiling at Chloe again who beams back at her.

“I envy you,” Dan says, shaking his head. “You’re so young and you have so many opportunities to attend events like this. Don’t have to worry about staying out too late or finding a sitter for the little ones,” he jokes, nudging his wife with a playful smile.

Tom laughs at that. “I agree. It was impossible for me and Emily to find somebody to look after our rascals, but we did. I’m sure they would have enjoyed this thrilling event though,” he jokes. “Well, the joys of being a recording artist...at least your schedule is king and you can set up whatever you need with no super strict deadlines,” Tom directs at Beca with a wink. “As long as we still get those albums.”

“Stop pressuring them both of you,” Robin chides. “I’m sure you’ll make lovely parents,” Robin says graciously, directing an apologetic smile at both Chloe and Beca. “But I know that’s not always in everybody’s agenda—at least not really early on.”

For a moment, she struggles to breathe. Beca feels some of the air around her grow thick and stagnant. The shift happens in an instant. She tightens her grip around the stem of her glass and wills herself not to crush the fragile material in her fist. Chloe tenses next to her as well and Beca feels the brief tightening of Chloe’s fingers in the crook of her elbow.

——————————

“I think...with our history and everything that we’ve been through together...part of me is afraid that one day I’ll wake up and she won’t be there,” Chloe whispers. She can barely look at Beca while she says so, taking the brief silence as an opportunity to quickly swipe at the tears welling quickly in her eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Beca murmurs, trying to keep her voice steady despite the sharp pain that spreads through her chest. “I would never leave you.”

“But you almost did. We almost broke because of what happened.”

“I felt so guilty,” Beca explains even though the words are increasingly meaningless. So much of the misplaced guilt had been alleviated over the past few weeks. “I still do sometimes, but—”

“Beca, don’t,” Chloe pleads.

“But,” Beca continues, reaching out to hold Chloe’s hands. “It’s mostly because I know that I hurt you and I know that things still hurt, but I can’t imagine doing this whole life thing without you and I can’t believe that it feels like I almost threw it all away.”

“You didn’t,” Chloe promises. “We’re both working on it now and I know you’re trying. I’m trying, too.” Chloe twists her hands so she can hold Beca’s hands properly. “I love you so much.”

Beca sniffles, surprising herself. Laughing hollowly, she reaches up to quickly swipe away a few stray tears before immediately holding Chloe’s hands again. “I love you, too, Chlo.”

For a moment, they both forget that their therapist is sitting across from them.

They’ll get through it. "We'll get through this," Beca promises. "I'm sorry for ever making you think otherwise. Too lost in my own head."

"Don't apologize for feeling things, Bec. I only ever wished I could take some of that worry away from you."

"We're going to get through this," Bece repeats, with conviction.

Chloe has no choice but to believe the love of her life.

——————————

There is a quiet pain in Chloe’s entire posture as she sits silently next to Beca at their designated table. The lights feel increasingly hot and jarring as they bear down on her. Though Chloe never shied away from the spotlight figuratively or literally, she somehow feels more put on the spot than ever.

The sudden reminder of what had happened such a short period of time ago—and the fact that she and Beca hadn’t even had the opportunity to tell anybody about Beca’s pregnancy before the miscarriage—sticks in her chest like a dagger through her heart.

She tries to focus on the food in front of her and the sound of the MC’s voice amid bursts of laughter, but none of that makes sense—it shouldn’t make sense, not when the flash of grief that rushes through her is immediately struck down by other warring emotions all threatening to burst free.

The fear she had felt when she had received the call from Beca—how Beca’s voice had trembled and hitched and wavered. The drive to the hospital and the energy it had taken to not tremble too badly so as to not get into an accident. Tears. Beca profusely apologizing for nothing and everything all at once, like she had any hand in what had happened.

And the distance—the distance that had stretched between them afterwards.

Apologies and declarations of love.

“Chlo,” Beca says softly. “Are you okay?”

Dragged back into the present moment, a rush of noise hits her as Chloe turns to Beca and quickly swipes at the tears that had formed. “Yeah,” she replies. “I think I’m just…” she trails off.

“Yeah, me too,” Beca murmurs. Her eyes reflect a similar pain. She glances around. “Want to...go?”

“Go? Go where?”

“Go home,” Beca says simply with a half shrug.

“Don’t you need to...be here?”

“I’d rather be at home with you.”

Chloe watches her for any trace of emotion that might indicate otherwise before she nods her head.

Together, they leave.

——————————

“I’m pregnant,” Beca whispers, tears springing to her eyes. “I’m pregnant, oh my God.”

Chloe drops her plate into the sink, hastily wiping her hands off on the closest dishtowel. “Beca, what? What did you just say?”

Beca smiles through a hiccup or a sob. She can’t tell. “It worked,” she tries to explain with a shaky voice. “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh my God,” Chloe exclaims, immediately reaching out to hold Beca’s waist. Beca immediately notices the careful grip Chloe has on her already. “Oh my God, Bec, I—” Poor Chloe, completely overwhelmed, simply begins to cry.

Beca looks incredibly alarmed at the display. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Chloe promises. “I’m just so happy.”

——————————

“Chlo,” Beca murmurs as they lie together in bed, showered and refreshed.

Chloe hums, tucking her face further against Beca’s neck and holding her close. “What is it?”

“You know what I see in our future?”

Chloe shakes her head, ruffling her hair as it sticks to Beca’s shirt and skin.

“I think I can see us with two kids. A beautiful house with a backyard. Maybe close to the ocean. And every day when we wake up, it’ll be to the sound of them laughing and giggling as they jump on our bed. You get the side of the bed closer to the door because I’m not getting my spleen ruptured by them every morning.” Beca inhales. “And God, I know they’re going to be beautiful. Whether we adopt or whether we figure out another way, they’re going to be such beautiful, beautiful children to call our own and that’ll be because they have you to model themselves after. I am so lucky to have you by my side. I was so sad earlier, thinking about everything and how unfair life can be sometimes, but Chlo, I can’t imagine what life would be like without you and I want you to know how much I love you.”

Chloe thinks she’s crying and laughing by the time Beca finishes, but she doesn’t care because she is pulling Beca in for a slow, deep kiss that quickly becomes messy because Beca is whispering words of love into her mouth and tightly weaving her arms around Chloe’s back to hold her close. It is surreal how this feels—how incredibly close to Beca she feels then. It is then that the memory of their entire shared history (littered with all kinds of memories, both happy and sad) doesn’t feel quite so daunting anymore. Like clouds parting to reveal an incomparable warmth, Chloe envisions such a clear and probable future with Beca. As clearly as Beca has seen it, evidently.

They share the same future.

They’re in this together.

“I know that we’re going to be good parents,” Beca whispers, voice thick with emotion. "Like...the best." She rests her forehead against Chloe’s. “I know I’m going to be a good mom despite my own parents.”

“You are,” Chloe breathes out with the little air she has left in her lungs. “You are so, so—” Beca kisses her, interrupting her. Chloe huffs, placing her hand loosely on Beca's chest. “I wasn’t finished."

“I know. I just had to tell you that you’re going to be an incredible mother too. I’ve known this forever. Ever since we were kids even when I didn’t even understand what I was feeling. I just know because you’re Chloe Beale. Our kids are going to be beautiful because of you,” Beca repeats. “I know it.”

“And you.”

Beca closes her eyes. The silence that follows is heavy, rife with all the emotion shared between them in the past few minutes. “I believe you,” she says finally.

Chloe knows she’s telling the truth.

fin.

#bechloe #my fanfic #pitch perfect #text #fanfiction #beca mitchell #chloe beale #angst #mine #now i see daylight

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matoitech · 4 years

Note

First things first, I must let you know that you are an absolute star and I love you! I also especially love your explanation for 'Kori Ni Tojikomete' and thank you so much for translating Shiho Ochi's thoughts on the lyrics. I was just curious if by any chance your beautiful mind had any thoughts on 'Nexus'? That is honestly my favorite Promare song and I've been listening to it on repeat, but I've also heard it's Lio singing to Galo?

thank you that’s very sweet!! and that’s true, it’s from lio’s pov! all promare songs with vocals have certain povs they’re written from, many of them sang from galo or lio to each other or as a duet. songs from lio’s pov are ashes, kakusei, and nexus; galo’s are gallant ones and kori ni tojikomete. inferno is a galo and lio duet. we don’t have eramorp’s pov confirmed as far as i know, but i’d guess it’s a duet as well since the pov feels like it alternates or is unfocused on a specific character

anyway, i do have a lot of thoughts on nexus! nexus IS lio pov and he is talking to galo / we’re hearing his feelings abt galo through it, that’s the majority of the lyrics. it brings up a lot of interesting things they don’t really talk about in the movie but we know ARE present through the lyric choices. promare songs are cool like that! a lot of the narrative is communicated THROUGH the music.

so to talk about the word ‘nexus’ first of all- it means a connection linking two or more things. promare is a fan of bringing words from different origins and languages into it, and (google tells me) nexus is of latin origin and means “to bind or tie.” there’s other ways it can be defined, but since the song literally has a part saying “we’re connected you and i” it’s more obvious it’s talking about THIS definition of nexus. the song, then, is really about lio and his connection to galo. lio is relying on that connection for his words to resonate with galo.

some songs in promare have pretty straightforward lyrics, and nexus is one of them i think. with nexus it starts off with gems like “you can’t believe in what you hear” so the rest of the song is basically “don’t believe the propaganda, fight back with me instead.” a lot of the lyrics are also pretty impossible to view as anything but romantic so its also a “be gay with me instead” song lol

since i talk so much about the rest of, i’m not really gonna go into the first verse- lio’s feeling drained and dejected and wondering if fighting for so long for so hard is going to be worth it. there are, however, some lines in it that made me think a little harder, which i talk about in this post here i wrote while thinking abt this ask, but those thoughts are too long to include in this answer lol. they’re relevant to discussing lio and his connection with galo though

the pre-chorus is interesting, because it really is lio talking to galo specifically. everything about nexus is framed like lio trying to tell galo to listen to him. to realize what is going on with the burnish and with the foundation, to understand why lio is fighting so hard. lio wants him to understand that everything he’s doing, he’s doing for a purpose. that’s why lio told him about the burnish and about the foundation in the cave- he wanted to be understood and heard. i don’t think he counted on galo actually taking him seriously and listening. ok, moving on!

“Hate Blinding me, and your love When you're talkin' about him Sound just like a broke' record! There's a reason why”

the pre-chorus, to me, has always come off like lio’s bringing up how kray’s propaganda is basically just brainwashing galo and everyone else in promepolis? ‘he’ typically seems like its referring to kray, while ‘you’ is referring to galo. ‘i’ is lio, of course. ‘you’re repeating the same shit he’s feeding you, you can’t give me a good explanation for what’s going on, and there’s a reason for that. you’ve been told lies all your life and you don’t know what’s really going on.’ the line ‘sound just like a broke’ record’ nailed that one in, since you just repeat the same rhetoric you’ve always heard over and over without truly hearing yourself or comprehending or thinking more critically about what you’re saying.

and then the rest of the pre-chorus talking about what kray’s doing, keeping secrets, profiting off his lies, killing lio’s family. because to lio the burnish are his people, his family.

there’s also the part about being blinded by hatred which is interesting because there’s a bit of a narrative thread promare’s got going on about not becoming consumed by your emotions... hate blinded lio to his moral code as the dragon and galo was the one who stopped him from doing something he’d regret.

‘blinded’ by an emotion is also brought up in a line in the movie, when kray says heris is ‘blinded by her love for her sister’ when heris turns on him. galo was blinded by respect of kray and viewing him as the closest thing he had to family; lio was blinded by hatred. though you can see where both of them are coming from; galo had good reason to not know when kray was manipulating him, and lio had good reason to be fucking pissed about his people being used to power a spaceship. promare likes to bring up certain lines or words or concepts multiple times to clue you in on there being something there to think about.

and then we got that fucking AWESOME chorus.

“So spend some time with me I really like your company We're not so different Flip the coin it doesn't matter And if we don't survive I'd rather die than live a lie”

this one’s also more obvious :) gay people! lio also reminding galo we’re not so different in a lot of different ways. ‘you and i could’ve been the same- we’re similar people, if our roles had been reversed we would still be fighting for people. fundamentally at our cores, we are people with similar goals who are alike in a lot of ways’. lio wants to save people. his character is built around this. so is galo’s! and the “if we don’t survive i’d rather die than live a lie” could refer to lio not wanting to live a life where’s forced to pretend wrt being burnish, maybe saying he’d rather die and expose kray for the monster he is than live while his people suffer, maybe that if him and galo die then at least they died fighting. it can also be read as a double metaphor for being gay. just gonna throw that one out there

then there’s these lines, important though often overlooked:

“I can see your tears inside Hanging on the deepest pain Yeah, we both are bruised He's the reason why Are we gonna let him choose? We're connected you and I”

these are important lines because it implies that lio knows what kray did to galo. even if he doesn’t have specifics he knows how much he hurt him. ‘i’ve been hurt by kray, but so have you, and we both know it. are you going to let him keep controlling your life, manipulating the way you see our world and keeping you from seeing the truth?’ and then ending with the iconic “we’re connected you and i” which is just.. sweet and sad. they’ve both been deeply hurt by foresight, but that’s another thing they have in common. another thing lio is reminding galo about to get him to fight for the burnish. not like galo needs persuading! but lio doesn’t know that yet. anyway, lio’s acknowledging the connection they have. the one that the movie keeps going back to, the one that promare is BUILT on. its because of their connection that they were able to do what they did; able to save the world.

(there’s also the “never see the game” as part of that verse as well, galo never seeing what kray was doing and it being just... a game to kray and not real human lives he’s affecting. ‘never see the thirty years of burnish suffering’ is another way to look at it.)

so to end this answer that got very long, nexus to me is like.. the serious side of the promare experience- effects of propaganda, effects of oppression, gay people, trauma- encapsulated in a damn good song. like promare, nexus is written to bang so fucking hard you forget there’s some deep shit going on there. i hesitate to say beneath the surface because its not like it’s buried, it’s right there in the lyrics, its just dressed up! that’s a unique way to go about a narrative for sure!

#ID PUT THIS UNDER A READMORE BUT I DONT WANT IT TO DISAPPEAR IF MY BLOG GETS DELETED SRY #anyway tysm for asking! this was a lot of fun!#anon #fess replies #long post #promare

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luzysabel · 4 years

Text

|| One Piece x Fem! Reader || Past || Part 1 ||

Memory

Okey, so I started to write a fanfic in wattpad and I want to publish here too. If you want you can read the fanfic here, the fanfic is in Spanish (my first lenguaje) but Google can translate the page to your language if you are using it.

Warnings: Mentions of dead, diseases and anxiety

● ● ●

I like look at the sky. It brings me peace, it makes me happy. Even if it makes me feel nostalgia, even if it makes my heart ache.

It's on nights like this, when the sky is totally clear and minutely adorned by the brightest spheres of light, when I appreciate that I'm not an astronomer. Because that's how I cannot see how different this sky is from mine and I can find comfort in the similarities that I want to believe there are. Allowing me to feel as if I were back home again. Even if I can't help but feel sad afterwards. Even though I know that no matter how much the two skies resemble each other, they will never be the same.

I like to admire the landscape. It brings me peace, it makes me happy.

The island I live on is very beautiful. Wonderful, rather. Makes want to draw it, take a picture, never look away, and everyone who has seen this place will agree with me. I never tire of exploring and strolling through it, it's a delight. It looks like a landscape taken from a book. A fantastic sight, almost unreal. Or at least in my world I have never seen such a place. It is not as if I had lived a long time, 15 years, and my family was not much traveller either. So it's not such a crazy thing. But it also doesn't look like any image I've seen on the Internet. However, I don't want to comment on something I don't know.

Another thing I like is that everyone here sings. Well, not all, but the vast majority yes. It's very rare to see someone who is not good at singing or without any talent related to art. It is the paradise of every artist. Here you find people singing, dancing or performing almost everywhere. Even I sang once (I was forced to do so) with other village children on a holiday. It was nice, I enjoyed it a lot.

I also like how peaceful this place is. The pirates don't attack us and nothing serious happens here, as far as I know. It is a very good place to live. Honestly, it doesn't bother me, I'm a rather calm person and not very adventurous (not to say I have none of that) so I could not be happier. This is all I need, after that the last thing I want is to live a busy life. What's I need is tranquility, a stable place to live. That which I always dreamed of in my previous life.

I'm very afraid of forget. It terrifs me. Every time I think about it my breath is cut off, I feel like crying. It is as if a bucket of frozen water were thrown at me. I feel cold, I don't stop trembling, my skin becomes pale, suddenly I feel bad, I feel sick. I don't like it, I hate it.

A few years ago (shortly after I turned three) I started a diary. There I write everything I remember about my past life. I write a lot, I'm very good at remembering, but lately I have started to forget. It's not something that happened suddenly, in fact, it has happened to me for quite some time. Little by little I've been forgetting more and more things, but it wasn't until not long ago that I started to realize it. It was almost like a stab to the heart. Suddenly I started to breathe through my mouth, the air that entered through my nose was no longer enough. My chest started to hurt, my palms became sweaty and I clung to my own clothes, I didn't stop trembling.

Although the worst time I had was when I tried to draw my mom and grandma.

It was on mother's day, we had just finished a surprise party we had for Adela, my mother of this world. We had spent a lot of time organizing it, we tried hard to make it special. But, I couldn't help but be sad and leave. I tried my best to hide my feelings and pretend I was doing well, I was doing so well...

I just wanted to make a draw of my mom and grandmother... I couldn't see them, I felt very lonely without my family, I couldn't say goodbye the last time I saw them, I couldn't tell them how much I loved them and I didn't want to think that those moment would be the last time I would see them. However, it was. Now I'm here, locked in this huge and dangerous unknown world, where I can die at virtually any time and in any form, yeeeeei. Please notice the sarcasm.

It happened in the night, everyone was sleeping, I couldn't sleep. I kept remembering my family, how we celebrated mother's day, the sad memories didn't leave me alone, I couldn't with it anymore. I cried. I Tried to calm down myself and not to make any noise, in vain, I don't stop of crying, instead, it get worse. I didn't remember my family's faces, everything was blurry, I couldn't see anything clearly. Luckily I sleep alone, so no one could see me. In a desperate attempt to remember, I tried to draw them, to put on paper two of the most important people in my life. I don't know why I thought it was a good idea, it just made it even worse.

While I was crying Adela came. She was worried, she asked me what happened, which was what made me cry. I couldn't answer, I couldn't say words, I was unable to speak. Adela approached me with care, she seemed afraid to scare me. She asked if she could hug me, I said yes, so she gently wrapped her arms around me, while caressing my head with one hand. It wasn't until that moment that I realized how touch starved I was. It's not that I'm not affectionate or something, no, not at all. It's just that is uncomfortable for me to be like that with them. Not that I don't love them, no. On the contrary, I love them very much and they have a special place in my heart, but my memories are a barrier that prevents me from seeing them for who they are, my family.

I don't want them to replace my family, I'm afraid they will, I'm afraid I'll forget them, it feels like a betrayal. It makes me feel guilty, it makes me feel bad.

She held me against her chest while she whispered comforting words to me. She asked me if it was a nightmare, I nodded. It was impossible for me to tell the truth, I doubt she would believe me. I also don't know how they would react. This is a secret I'm going to take to the grave.

She sang a lullaby to calm me down, I listen this song since I practically arrived to this world, it's a very beautiful song, definitely one of my favorites. She offered to sleep with her, in her room (along with my father and my little brothers of this world, obviously) I was too sad to sleep alone that night and I thought I would surely have nightmares, so I agreed. I slept well that night.

I miss been called by my name. I find it strange that they don't. It's uncomfortable, I don't like it. I feel like I'm someone else, like it's not me, it makes me feel false.

My name, now, is a nickname, although it was not my intention that it would be. What happened was this: all my stuff has my name somewhere. I did this for fear of forgetting it, initially everyone was a little bit surprised of me doing this and asked me why, so I lied to them saying it was a nickname given to me by a child I played with a time ago. It was from then on that everyone started calling me by my name and little by little they stopped using the one they put me here.

I really appreciate everything they do for me, they always makes me feel comfortable and happy. They have also endured me since I came into this world, they even helped me with my (I think) phobia of getting sick. After having died of an illness during a pandemic, I am afraid of illness and whenever this is mentioned I feel horrible. Especially when I pass it. It's as if I relive that illness, as if everything happened again. I hate it.

I can't deal with doctors either, I can't even be near to a hospital. So I try to take care of myself as much as I can so I don't get sick again. The few times I did it I felt horribly bad, I thought I was going to die, I almost had an anxiety attack when I noticed the symptoms. But fortunately they were able to calm me down before it all got worse, I am really grateful for that.

Adela and Ulysses are the best parents of the world, they have educated their children very well and they are all very united. They remind me a little of my family. I'm happy I was born here. Sometimes I feel I don't deserve them, but I don't want to think about it. I just enjoy the few moments of peace I have, and I couldn't be happier about it.

I like to be here. I feel well, I'm happy.

#one piece imagines #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #one piece imagine #x reader #reader insert #one piece reader insert

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luciddeparture · 4 years

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Is Meditation for Morons?

I’m can’t exactly recall the first time I decided to meditate. I just know what happened when I finally bothered to learn how to. It has since had a profound effect on my life.

Now I know what you are probably thinking… “Meditation? I don’t need any of that woo woo crap in my life.” That’s at least how I used to feel about it, but who knows? Maybe you are a little bit less cynical than I was.

It is somewhat ironic that I am now the one who is writing a blog on meditation and its benefits.

When I first heard about meditation I immediately dismissed it, until I rediscovered it about two years ago whilst listening to a podcast called The Tim Ferris Show. The podcast is a series of interviews where Tim Ferris interviews top performers in a variety of fields from all around the world. Surprisingly, over “80% of the people [he] interviews have some form of meditation practice”. That’s a significant percentage! I’m by no means insinuating that we all need to be world-class performers, but I feel that it could not hurt to learn from those who are achieving high levels of success. Especially when there is an easily identifiable common trait, which in this case is meditation.

It slowly became clearer and clearer to me that meditation might be less bullshit than I had originally anticipated.

Before we get into things, it is important to acknowledge that although meditation is now becoming increasingly commercialised and “trendy” in Western Cultures, meditation has been a huge component of many spiritual practices for many hundreds of years. In the East, meditation played a huge role in particular in both Hinduism and Buddhism. The earliest records of Meditation can be found in the Vedas, a religious text written in Sanskrit in 500bc. After reading the Vedas the Buddha added his own spin too, developing his own technique called Satipatthana, which is now most commonly known as Mindfulness. The direct translation is Sati (Attention) or (Remember) + Upa (Inside) + Thana (to keep) So Satipatthana means: To keep your attention inside.

Transcendental Meditation was introduced to the West in part by the popular culture of the 1960’s. A notable contribution was The Beatles sharing their experiences after visiting India. Although Mindfulness meditation was introduced much later to Western Cultures. Throughout this article I will primarily be discussing the effects of Mindfulness Meditation.

Over the last few years, the process of meditation, as well as its effects, has become a rapidly expanding subfield of neurological research. One of the most interesting experiments involved scientists conducting tests on a Monk, finding that although he was 41 he had the brain of a 33 year old. They gave him an FMRI scan while asking him to cultivate a sense of compassion by meditating, and the neural activity in his empathy circuits grew by 700-800%! One of the researches later wrote “Such an extreme increase befuddles science.”

When most of us anticipate getting burned our pain receptors act as though we are already suffering. So much so that when the pain actually comes nothing really changes. Once the physical stimulus stops the mental pain slowly subsides. Expert meditators act much less in anticipation of the pain and feel the pain more intensely while the stimulus is present. Their awareness of the pain ceases immediately as soon as the stimulus is removed.

Interestingly enough, the emotional centre for the brain, the Amygdala, acts in a similar fashion to the pain response. Meditators are often much better at responding in anticipation to emotional stress.

I’m someone who has always lived predominately inside their thoughts, probably leaning on the more erratic side. The thought of being able to sit in silence sorta freaked me out, not to mention seeming borderline impossible.

To understand what my mind looks like, you need to look no further than The Simpsons. Remember that scene where Homer is listening to Marge and inside his brain a monkey is clanging symbols? That’s the relationship I had with my brain almost all of the time. I believe this is the same for most of us.

Let’s put this to the test. You, my lucky reader, can be the test subject of a little experiment on your own psyche. For the next minute, I want you to close your eyes and just do your best to focus solely on your breath. 3…2..1. GO!

How did you go? Did you get lost in your thoughts? Did you forget entirely that you were even trying to focus at all? Where did your mind take you? Your relationship (or lack of)? Work? Or maybe even what you might have for dinner?

I found that when I first began meditating my mind would sometimes find itself distracted on the most obscure things. The reason why I am illustrating this point is because often when I speak to others who have tried meditation for the first time, I hear “I tried meditation, and it’s not for me - I just think too much”. I hate to say it, but these are the people who probably should be learning to meditate most of all.

The way I see meditation, is similar to closing background apps on your phone. It saves battery, and it just makes your phone faster. No brainer. I believe the same is true with meditation and giving your brain a break from constantly thinking.

A lot of the people who are reading this article will have grown up with internet access. Therefore, you have been bombarded with external stimuli in each and every moment. Bzzz, Bzzzz, Bzzzzzzzz. I’m sure that most of you will have received a messages even whilst reading this article.

Our brains have been over stimulated and are in a constant state of overdrive. Even when we are asleep our brains are constantly thinking, even if it is in the form of dreams! Obviously that isn’t a negative on it’s own, in fact sleep is crucial for the brain. But when you add everything up it’s a lot for a brain that has only been subject to this much stimuli for around 15 years - the first iPhone only came out 13 years ago.

As you discovered just before, learning to “not think” doesn’t happen instantly. Like you, when I first attempted to sit in silence and tried to focus on my breath it did not work. My monkey mind remained supreme. Once again I was convinced that it wasn’t for me. But like all skills, meditation takes time and discipline to both learn, and improve.

I’m not saying this to deter you, it’s just the truth. An easy comparison might be to say that you wanted to learn how to play a musical instrument. It would be ridiculous to expect that you would be able to play your favourite song after your first time attempting to pick up the instrument. The same logic can be applied to meditation. It takes time, practice and discipline - however unlike musical instruments, you bring your mind to all situations in life. In my opinion, sharpening your ability to think is well worth the investment. According to scientific studies Mindfulness meditation induces big changes in the minds of experts, but when beginners first meditate not much happens.

At its core, the aim of meditation is to become more present in each moment by focusing and training attention and awareness. This is to achieve a mentally clear and emotionally calm and stable state. This in turn gives you the ability to have significantly more control of how you react to external and internal stimuli when they arise in your life.

In Mindfulness meditation, the goal is to act as an observer whilst focusing on your breath, watching your conscious experience as thoughts and sensations arise and disappear.

As mentioned earlier we are often multi tasking, with tech and external stimuli, but even whilst we are not, we remain deep in thought. We are often living in the past or in the future through memory rather than in each and every moment.

Meditation helps you learn how to not be constantly reactive to stimuli on the inside or outside. When I meditate, I find that it simply quiets my mind. It’s a simple reset of the brain allowing me to slow down and focus solely on the present.

Another way of looking at it is that meditation is like going to the gym. You can see it as a way of working out your mind. To begin with your mind will wander, time traveling from the past to the future. But with practice you can slowly train your mind to become more present.

Being present throughout the day allows me to consciously make better decisions, rather than just remaining on autopilot.

As hedge fund billionaire Ray Dalio puts it “When you're centred, your emotions are not hijacking you”. “Meditation is 'the single most important reason for my success.”

If you are looking to start meditation, Mindfulness meditation apps are a great way to initially learn how to meditate. I still find myself using one most days. Having tried all of them, I would recommend Sam Harris’ Waking Up app. Its thirty day training course is clear and concise and an awesome starting point to learn how to meditate. After that, new daily meditations appear on the app. Harris is a Neuroscientist and an Atheist and breaks meditation down in a way that is less spiritual which might make more sense to a western audience.

Worried it’s going to cost too much? If you can’t afford a subscription, you can email the help section and receive a one year free subscription. No questions asked. You have no excuse not to try it!

Other Mindfulness app alternatives are:

- Headspace - Andy Puddicombe

- Smiling Mind (An Australian non-profit alternative)

For further learning check out these guys:

Sam Harris, Mooji, Ram Dass and Andy Puddicombe

I am by no means an expert in this field, I just wanted to share something which has improved the quality of my life by at least 10%. I hope that it works for you too!

#meditation #mindfullness #wakeup #samharris #mooji #ramdass #headspace

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leoninapelliolovesconchitawurst · 4 years

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ENGLISH TRANSLATION (by me)

LOSDELAMUSICA.COM 19/11/20

https://www.losdelamusica.com/articulo/conchita-wurst-me-encantaria-colaborar-con-ruth-lorenzo-amo-tanto-a-ruth-y-es-tan-gran-artista

Conchita Wurst: "I would love to collaborate with Ruth Lorenzo, I love Ruth so much and she is such a great artist!"

Conchita Wurst is back and she's never gone. It has changed and evolved since we heard “Rise like a Phoenix”. Now behind her is also Tom, who is embarking on all kinds of projects, like his recent collaboration with Ricky Merino on "Smalltown Boy".

We had the pleasure of interviewing Conchita and below we have his answers on his appearance at Eurovision, his new album, his new stage as presenter and some curiosities like his dreams to be realized.

After your stint and your victory at Eurovision in 2014, now that time has passed, how has that influenced your new music? Are you still seeing as much impact?

I believe that all musical development is an evolution and that everything that comes from the past influences the present and the future. Winning the Eurovision Song Contest and all the attention that came with it allowed me to live the life I live today. And I think I felt a lot of pressure at first to be perfect and do everything right, and now a few years later I feel more mature and genuine and I have no intention of thinking about what other people might think. I'm just doing my thing.

“Truth Over Magnitude”, T.O.M, what does this record mean to you? Why does it have the initials of your name (Tom)?

It means that I appreciate the truth and being myself more than the celebrity. You understand? Being famous or a celebrity is fun and all, but in the end it doesn't mean anything to me. It's no good if you don't live the life you want to live. "Truth Over Magnitude" is very personal, so it fits very good as an album name, and abbreviated as TOM, it also shows that this album is much more my personal self than Conchita.

Your projects do not end there. You recently launched a collaboration with Ricky Merino, how did you receive the proposal?

I love collaborating with other artists and seeing what we can do together. Ricky contacted me and sent me his version of "Smalltown Boy", which I loved. So of course I said yes when he asked me to record a reissue of the song together.

Is the career or the fame of an artist important for you to collaborate with him?

Obviously it's flattering that a famous person wants to collaborate, but again I think it's “Truth Over Magnitude”. I really wanna like what the other person is doing, I wanna like the voice and the whole vibe, that's more important than the fame. I would never work with a super famous person that I don't like. And I've worked with people in the past who weren't very well known and we still do duets and projects together.

Which other Spanish artist would you collaborate with?

I would love to collaborate with Ruth Lorenzo of course, I love Ruth so much and she is such a great artist! And I think there are so many talented Spanish artists that I don't even know! Send them all to me and we'll do something together! (Laughs)

You also sang with Anastacia, do you want to edit one of her songs in the studio and release it as a single? Which?

I would record all of Anastacia's songs with her! She's an amazing singer, such a kind and friendly person and I think we would have a great time together in the studio!

Why do you think we need an example like you to follow for the LGTBI + collective? Are you proud to be a reference?

I don't like to think of myself as a point of reference, honestly, and I've never seen myself as an example. I like to think of myself as a guy who does his thing. But yeah, sure, I know I'm an example in people's heads, not mine.

Hope a lot of people will see that you can do whatever you want as long as you don't hurt others. If you want to be a bearded woman, be a bearded woman. If you don't want to be the bearded lady anymore and want to make electronic music, then do it. You only have one life, and I hope that's what people see in me: the motivation to love their own life and their fantasies.

You also worked as a presenter this 2020 on German TV, what about the experience in 'Fame Maker'?

You know? I love hosting TV shows especially when they're live because it's so much more fun than pre-recording and recording stuff over and over again. And “Fame Maker” was the first live concert I did this year where there was a real audience, it was also very nice. Having instant reactions is very important, not only for me as a presenter, but also for the jury, the artists and the entire production team.

Being a program where you can see but not hear, does the image matter more or are there other deciding factors?

Seeing the artists without listening to them was really interesting and fun. Of course, it also makes you aware of how quickly we judge someone by seeing them for a few seconds. But you can't see the talent, you can't see people who can really sing and have a great voice.

You might be able to see if they have some experience on stage. But it was also the fun of this show, anyone could guess it and it was full of surprises all the time!

How important is the image to you?

Image in the sense of how you look, your hair, what you wear is of course very important in the entertainment industry. Not just in situations like a cover shoot or during a three minute live TV show.

I think everyone knows what it feels like to look in the mirror and say, “Wow! Today I love myself a lot ”, that gives you a lot of confidence. Likewise, we all have days when we feel like wearing jogging pants and not leaving the house. I think the appearance and image can help a lot with the confidence and the way other people notice you. Use them to your advantage!

And now that it seems like every dream is impossible, do you see yourself in the middle of the Super Bowl in a few years? You would like it?

Haha, they still haven't called me! Of course, the Super Bowl is one of the greatest entertainment shows in the world and every year we see how Americans are crazy about having a massive experience.

At the same time, I like to watch the Eurovision Song Contest because, if we're being honest, it's our European Super Bowl and we don't have to watch a lot of sports to finally enjoy it. (Laughs)

What can we expect from Wurst in the short term?

With the pandemic, it has been a very difficult year for artists around the world, and I fear it will still be some time before we can enjoy concerts with crowded audiences. The closures in Austria have made me think about things I would like to do in the future, I have been working on some creative projects and looking forward to sharing them with my fans, when possible.

But don't be fooled, of course I also spent days at home doing nothing and being lazy; I think it's also something that unites us all. It's also okay to be lazy sometimes.

Thank you very much for your closeness and for answering questions so extensively, Conchita. We wish you good luck and success.

Check out the latest single with Ricky Merino on 'Smalltown Boy' below, then one of Tom's most recent singles, 'Hit me':

#conchitawurst #wurst #tomneuwirth #singer #artist #esc2014 #escwinner #music #performer #lgbt #celebrity #smalltown boy #article #translation

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johnnys-so · 5 years

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got7! street racing au: Jaebum (Part 1)

Group: GOT7 World: Street Racing au Parts: Prologue, Jaebum (Part 1) Racers: Jaebum, Yugeyom, Youngjae

A/N: Hello! First off, thank you so much for the love and reaction that this fic has received. I am so motivated to see this through till the end that I’ve been planning like crazy. But much like relationships, I will ruin a fic if I plan it out too much. So, here is the first part of the story. I hope you can learn a little bit about our got7!racers and do let me know what you think/want to see and I’ll incorporate them into the story!!

Three cubes of ice slipped neatly into the glass. The clink of drinks being passed around at the bar was drowned by the slow lilt of a grand piano in the background. At an establishment of this stature, it was only ordinary to see the entitled heirs of Korean conglomerates mingle daintily with each other.

In his usual corner, Lee Hwan sat in the middle of his group of admirers. To call them friends, would associate an amicable nature to the otherwise stone-cold heir. Lee Hwan was known for three things within his circle of acquaintances: smart investments, fast cars and a temper to be vary of. It was rare to see him lose his cool in public; it almost never happened. But if anyone could step on his toes, it would be Im Jaebum.

“I honestly don’t know why you tolerate him. I mean, sure, he’s the best in the scene right now but you’re not so bad either. Right, Hwan?”

Someone should have warned this second son of some company that to compare Lee Hwan with anybody, was the quickest way to death. Hwan’s eyes locked momentarily onto this insignificant boy, his shoulders shifting to stare him down into submission. Before he could say another word, Hwan’s trusted friend and the manager of his racing team was quick to speak up. “Jaebum is the best because he’s in our team. He would be no one without Hwan and he should know his place before he decides to act out again.”

The growing insinuation in the room spoke volumes of the incident at Soyang Lake. In the early hours of the morning, the same group which sat huddled around Lee Hwan, had gathered in the boughs of the forest around Soyang lake. The ‘three black roses’ was an exclusive group of racing enthusiasts who met thrice a year to watch over chosen racers competing against each other in a maddening chase. They were a coming together of three princes from conglomerate families who met not only to organize and watch over the underground street racing scene, but also to shake up each other’s’ future. The Soyang Takeover was a fan-favourite. Winding roads hugged by a mystic lake on one side and death-trap cliffs on the other. For an automobile enthusiast, it provided a prime opportunity to test the skill and courage of his driver.

For Lee Hwan and Jaebum, this was a race to establish that they were still the kings of street racing in Korea.

Unlike previous times, when Jaebum had silently obliged with Hwan’s orders, this time was different. As the crowd watched, Jaebum’s car David swerved dangerously against the railing and pulled ahead of the Goliath. Its screeching tires were in harmony with the echoing cheers of a rampant crowd. The onlookers raised their glasses in blatant excitement, compliments for Jaebum pouring over their lips like honeyed liquor. At a distance, Youngjae and Yugeyom looked at each other in relief. Jaebum’s neat trick was a huge risk, especially on Soyang’s roads. But he had always managed to do the impossible, earning him and his car the rightful nickname ‘David’.

Just then at the bar, someone drew the group’s attention with a clearing of their throat.

“Hwan.” Jaebum’s deep tenor resonated softly in the air. The relationship between these men had grown tense over the last few weeks, in the wake of the race.

“Mn.”

Jaebum knew not to push Hwan when he was surrounded by his lackeys. His gaze carried over to gentle Seunghoon, the manager. At his cue, Seunghoon stood up with a flourish and scooped Jabeum by his shoulders. “Oh come now, you don’t have to be like this. Just apologise to our hyung, and he’ll surely embrace you back into his good graces.”

An uncomfortable silence followed his over the top attempt at flattery. Under his fingers, Jaebum’s shoulders tensed at the mention of an apology. He had done nothing to apologise for. Hwan had demanded a victory and that is exactly what Jaebum delivered. How he managed that delivery, was not his concern.

“I’m here for my pay.”

At the sound of money, as most people do, the entitled bunch of men scoffed. “Shamelessly asking for the money huh, these street urchins really don’t change do they.”

Hwan’s gaze brushed over the passing comment and went straight to Jaebum. Just like he had expected, he watched the man’s fingers fold into a fist. His lips grew thinner and a smudge of tension settled between his brows. Ever since he was a teenager, Jaebum had been easy to anger. But Hwan knew that eliciting anger was a fool’s knife. Anybody could do that.

As Jaebum icily slinked away from Seunghoon’s hold, a flutter of money rained in front of him. Hwan lay satisfied, a slow smirk cooking on the side of his lips. “You’re right. Of course you’re here for the pay, you deserve it Bum-ah.” Hwan lazily stood up from his chair, his hand grazing the curve of Jaebum’s shoulder. He circled his racer like a tiger on a hunt, under no visible hurry to do any damage.

As he leaned in closer, Jaebum heard the final words whispered into his ear, “I’ll just be really sad if something were to happen to your daily wages. You know how we get. We rich and spoiled brats have too many pets to take care of. You have a few people left to pay, don’t you?”

There it was. The obvious slander, packaged in glitter. Hwan didn’t need anybody else to humiliate his underlings for him. He did that job all too well himself. For Jaebum, however, this was more than humiliation. This was a warning, and he had heard it loud and clear.

Hwan’s whiskey lay unattended on the mahogany table as Jaebum crouched by it. He slowly picked up the leftover bills, counting each one under his breath. As the last bill had been folded safely in his hands, he straightened his back and looked pointedly at the ground.

“I’m sorry, Hwan.”

Hwan waved a dismissing hand in the air. Seunghood rushed to translate the peacock’s blatant dismissal of the matter, and escorted Jaebum out of the premises.

——-

“Hyung!”

A slender frame jumped earnestly by the street corner. This early in the afternoon, the street was bustling with activity. Women squatted by the pavement to sell fresh produce, restaurants swinging their doors open to welcome the lunch crowd and shop-keepers peeping into the streets to catch hold of strangers.

Jaebum’s face visibly lightened at the sight of the younger boy. Yugyeom was one of the few people in his neighbourhood who could keep him sane. He reminded Jaebum of simpler times, of racing across the grey tarmac on summer evenings. As he inched closer to the entrance of the grey building, Yugyeom bounded towards him.

“Is it done, hyung? Did you get it? Will we able to settle the amount today?” Yugeyom’s song-bird lilt of a voice crashed into Jaebum like spring wind. He huffed out a laugh at the visible urgency. “Yes. Youngjae will be fine from now on.”

Slipping his hands into his jacket to pat the bundle of money one more time, the boys entered the office of a loan shark.

Although it was a naïve statement, Jaebum hoped that his apology would have smoothed over his indiscretion. Enough to help him protect that truth; to protect Youngjae and Yugyeom from further damage.

#got7 #jaebum #yugyeom #youngjae #got7 street racing au #got7 scenarios

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tabooneko · 5 years

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Dance with Devils -Twin Lead- Vol. 3 Shiki & Roen

Hi~ Guess who finished all her exams~ ;D To celebrate I prepared a new drama CD for you!

It was really fun to translate it~

Special thanks to @violet-sin for the opportunity to listen and translate this amazing drama CD! <3 :D

Please DON’T REPOST

If you find any mistakes, please let me know, so I can fix them ^^ Enjoy~!

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Japanese Title: アクマに囁かれ魅了されるCD 「Dance with Devils -Twin Lead-」 Vol.3 シキ&ローエン (CV.平川大輔&CV.鈴木達央)

English Title: Captivating CDs Whispered by the Devil: Dance with Devils -Twin Lead- Vol. 3 Shiki & Roen (CV: Hirakawa Daisuke & Suzuki Tatsuhisa)

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Track 1: Sudden false accusation

Roen: Shhh! Be quiet. If you make any sound, people will know that we are here. No, I should be the one apologizing. I’m terribly sorry for dragging you into such situation. Oh, you’re really softhearted after all. But I want to thank you. If you’re with me, he won’t do anything reckless. Although, if you sense any danger, don’t hesitate, leave me behind and run away. No, you have to promise me. Otherwise, I...

Shiki: Ah, found you~

Roen: Aaah! Natsumezaka Shiki!

Shiki: You are good at hiding. I was looking for you for a while. Ah, so you’re with him. When I think about doing it in front of the audience, I feel thrilled. Roen, are you ready?

Roen: Of course I’m not! I’m sure you want to tear my fur out again. I’m not a material for a stuffed animal.

Shiki: Aren’t you always yelping from joy?

Roen: I’m complaining about pain!

Shiki: Ah, pain is great, right?

Roen: Please, don’t just assume that everyone feels like you.

Shiki: You say so? Maybe think that’s your last moment and try experiencing it again. Who knows, perhaps your opinion will change. What’s more, I love your high-pitched scream, Roen. Sometimes I really want to hear it. Just like there are times when you suddenly feel like listening to a song. It’s the same.

Roen: Am I like an advertising jingle?!

Shiki: Oh, I know! Let’s set your scream as academy broadcast’s opening sound! I’m sure that students would be happy too!

Roen: I obviously rise an objection.

Shiki: Let’s just try it out once~ I need to record you scream to do so, though.

Roen: I will show no mercy, if you come any closer.

Shiki: Resist as much as you want. It will be more amusing for me that way. Oh. Hmm~ Do you plan to stop me? I don’t mind if you want to take his place.

Roen: Stop it at once! As for you, it’s dangerous to come here. Leave, please.

Shiki: I’m happy that you want me so much, but now I have to keep Roen company. Hm, wait. Now that I think about it, I was looking for Roen with a completely different intention in mind.

Roen: What do you mean?

Shiki: You know about Rem’s precious shōgi board, right? Have you heard that one piece got lost?

Roen: There is no way I’d know about something so exceedingly trivial.

Shiki: I guess so. But it’s a really important matter for Rem, so he is extre~mely angry right now. Because of that Urie and Mage got dragged into this mess too and are pretty annoyed. No. It’s the best situation for me. Because there is rarely a chance to get falsely accused and punished.

Roen: So just hurry up and go to Rem Arlond and tell him you’re the culprit.

Shiki: You don’t have to tell me, I’ve already done that. But Rem said that he can tell from my behaviour that I’m not the culprit. In the end, he just drove me out of the library. Now the biggest suspect is you, Roen, so I thought that if I catch you and hand over to Rem, I’ll be able to ask for a punishment as my reward.

Roen: Huh? Wait a minute. He of all people suspects me...?

Shiki: Looks like Urie and Mage have an alibi.

Roen: Impossible. After all stolen from the Third Library was the crystal shōgi which were bought in some unknown place. There is no other person than Rem Arlond who would want those pieces.

Shiki: That’s not the case. I’m talking about shōgi board from Rem’s classroom.

Roen: So that man leaves such things even in a classroom?

Shiki: At this rate, I’m afraid that if culprit doesn’t kill himself to atone for his crime, Roen will be punished instead of him. You’re so lucky~

Roen: What is so lucky about it? I by any means don’t wish to be falsely accused.

Shiki: But as long as you don’t have an alibi and there is no other evidence, it will be hard to clear your accusation. You’re up against that Rem after all.

Roen: Eh. Why do I have to be dragged into such a troublesome situation? I don’t want to get involved, but if I just leave it, I’ll probably have to pay a high price for this later. It’s so unfair but it looks like I have to look for the culprit myself. ...Oh. Of course. I’ll gladly accept your help. But why? You won’t get anything from this. Heh. You’re really softhearted after all. But the truth is, your kindness is helping me a lot. If you don’t mind, would you lend your support then? Thank you very much.

Shiki: Huuh~ Looks like something funny is going to happen. Maybe I’ll tag along~

Roen: No, thank you.

Shiki: But she is going with you, right? Then I can’t just leave.

Roen: I don’t think this fallen angel will really help us. Eh, I understand. If you say so.

Shiki: The three of us will look for the real culprit. It’s just started getting interesting~

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Track 2 Blind spot

Roen: Looks like all students have already gone home. We can thoroughly investigate the scene of crime... I didn’t come here to have fun. If I don’t clear my name, I’ll keep getting falsely accused. Nevertheless, a tasteless shōgi pieces’ thief is not a laughing matter. Well then, from the three of us, Natsumezaka Shiki, you know the most about this accident. Would you tell us more about it?

Shiki: It’s not such a difficult story that needs to be explained. But have it your way. Looks like the accident took place in this classroom, at Rem’s seat.

Roen: Undoubtedly you must mean this desk. Although it’s hard to understand why a shōgi board was placed here. Was he playing shōgi with classmates?

Shiki: Nah. He didn’t let anyone touch it. So it’s like a tsume shōgi problem.

Roen: What was this man doing in the classroom?

Shiki: The piece went missing sometime between yesterday after classes and today’s morning.

Roen: The stolen piece is king, huh? Only one piece is missing, right? Does it have any special meaning?

Shiki: Maybe it’s a message from the culprit.

Roen: There is a possibility like that. Although, what’s with that strange shōgi board?

Shiki: It’s pretty unusual, right? Front side is white, while back is black. And symbols are all gold. It suits Rem well.

Roen: They look just like pieces in chess. Ah, right. Please take a photo as an evidence.

Shiki: In the first place Rem looks like he would like playing chess, but instead he always plays shōgi. What a strange thing.

Roen: Indeed. He is a very inexplicable man. To begin with, why am I the suspicious one? If you think about it a little, it’s obvious that I’m not the culprit. Everyone could be responsible for that crime if it took place after school. That’s why classmates or teachers should be the most suspicious.

Shiki: Yeah, that’s why Rem used his magic to interrogate them. But he didn’t find the culprit, at least in this classroom.

Roen: To think that he used his powers for such a reason. How much is he attached to that shōgi board?

Shiki: Looks like it’s one of a kind. There is only one board like that in this world.

Roen: It would be a problem if two or more such boards existed in this world.

Shiki: But because of that he can’t just buy a new one. So he became quite desperate.

Roen: Then he should buy a brand new, different shōgi board. Or he can just use an imitation to solve the problem.

Shiki: Oh, I see. Why didn’t I notice this move (as in shōgi) before?

Roen: Hm? Is something wrong?

Shiki: Fufu. It may be possible to solve this mystery... without catching the culprit.

Roen: What?!

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Track 3: Counterfeit

*school bell rings*

Roen: I’m sorry for making you wait. Rem Arlond caught me, when I was leaving school. There is nothing to worry about. Although, he persistently interrogated me about the day of that accident. It seems like I’m still under suspicion. This man is unpredictable. We have to solve this problem as fast as we can, since we don’t know what he will do next.

Shiki: Rem likes to stick to his prejudices. At this rate, it’s only a matter of time when he starts catching Roen inside our academy.

Roen: We have to avoid it. That’s why we have to find a breakthrough solution as fast as possible. Natsumezaka Shiki, may you continue our yesterday’s talk? What did you mean that we can solve the problem without catching the culprit?

Shiki: It’s simple. Rem is so angry, because his precious thing has been stolen, right? So we just have to make an identical piece for him.

Roen: I see, a blind spot.

Shiki: Rem certainly will be pleased, if the piece comes back to him. But one day, I’ll tell him the truth. That the piece he has is fake and he will never get the real one back. I wonder what expression will Rem make? It’s thrilling just to think about it!

Roen: I don’t care if this man gets shocked. But because of that, I’d be affected by his reaction. If we are doing this, it needs to remain secret.

Shiki: But that’s boring!

Roen: I’m not asking about your opinion.

Shiki: Fufu, you’re so cold. Well, whatever. So it’s decided. We will make a fake piece.

Roen: Even if it will be fake, it’s still better for him than not having it at all. Well, we don’t have a guarantee that everything will go as planned. Although, believing in success isn’t so bad, is it?

Shiki: What are you secretly talking about? I’m going to buy materials now, you’re coming too, right?

Roen: Yes, of course. I’ll accompany you. Let’s go then.

2:52

Roen: So what shall we buy first?

Shiki: Probably coloring materials to paint the piece. We have to be especially accurate with the golden symbols. Otherwise, Rem will immediately notice that they’re not original ones.

Roen: I understand. Ah, but where is corner with paints?

Shiki: Oh, there are pencils on sale! If they’re so cheap, it’s better to buy a lot of them at once. You’re right, there are even canvases on sale! Maybe they’re selling some other things too. Come here~ *Shiki grabs you*

Roen: There is so many things, you can’t tell where what is. But you probably know shops better than me, right? Would you lead-… Darn! I only took my eyes off her for a moment! Where did she go?

4:11

Shiki: Panels and canvases are good, but first we need to buy some brushes. I’ve broken brushes I liked, so I need new ones. Yep, I broke them. Destruction is essential part of art after all. The incredible feeling when you destroy things you created or cared for… you have to enjoy it. You should try it out once too. I know, how about you destroy my painting? You can stab my still fresh canvas with scissors. It should be interestingly easy to cut and torn it... Ah, just thinking about it fills my heart. You don’t have to refuse so bluntly. You can always tell me, if you change your mind. Well then, let’s choose a brush. Help me. Let’s see~ Using different brushes depends on a taste in art. But basically, I like brushes with a soft tip. Hm~ This one feels nice when you touch it. Seems easy to use. But I’d like a softer one. For example, a brush from this brand… Oh my? You haven’t used this one? Heh, then why don’t you try out those two types: round brush and flat brush? First, the round brush… Instead of touching it with your fingers, it’s better to touch your cheek. It lets you feel its texture better. Come on, focus on place I’m brushing. No, I won’t let you run away. Today I decided to buy things you said made you feel good. What do you mean? I think it’s normal to confirm how comfortable those brushes are in use. Okay, so now let’s try out the flat brush… It’d be nice if you liked the feel of it this time. I’ll stop with cheeks. Let’s try your neck now. It should be easier to feel the touch there. Was it ticklish? So it means it’s a little too soft? But your moan was so pleasant, that I want to try out a lot of things now. Show me a lot of expressions… *kiss* What a nice face. It’s red and full of shame, but your eyes are glaring fiercely at me. If I play with you more, will you get even angrier? Or maybe you will coldly look down on me? Ah, I can’t wait to see it~ You don’t want it no matter what? But if you don’t cooperate with me, we won’t be able to buy a brush. Since it came to this, there is no other way but to make a brush you li-… Ah. Don’t force on me a brush you’ve chosen at random… Surprisingly, it’s not that bad after all. It’s soft and firm. Seems good for precise paintings. Yeah, I like it. It would be fun to paint you as a model with this brush. Really? I think there is no one who stimulates my creative urges more than you. Huh? You’re really a strange girl. There is a lot of interesting themes in this world and yet you want to paint me? But… it’s not an unpleasant feeling. Let’s buy one more brush. It’s for you. You’re going to paint me, right? Show me, when you finish. I’m sure it’ll be fun to be imprisoned in a canvas by you. Hehe. You promised me, okay?

Roen: I’ve waited so long but I haven’t thought you will just come to the painting corner.

Shiki: Hm? Ah, Roen!

Roen: Don’t “ah” me here! Why are you two just shopping carelessly? This brush has nothing to do with our accident. Good grief. You’re also at fault. Why did you let this fallen angel to take you so easily. If you want a brush so much, maybe we should just pluck feathers from his wings and make a quill pen.

Shiki: How belligerent of you, Roen. I don’t mind, tear up as many of my feathers as you like and scatter them…

Roen: I can’t go along with this fallen angel. Even getting angry at him seems foolish. Anyway, please just buy necessary painting tools.

Shiki: Okay, okay, I get it.

11:50

Shiki: So now we have all painting materials. We also need a piece. But what should we do about it? Hm, we can only buy similar one after all. But where should we go? I guess good quality pieces that Rem would use aren’t sold here.

Roen: Please leave this matter to me. I have some ideas. Please come to the park close to our academy on next free day. I’ll tell you the details.

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Track 4: A moment of rest

00:11

Roen: Are you looking for me? I’m sorry for surprising you. I couldn’t help myself, since you were looking around so frantically. It’s not so bad from time to time. You’re the one who always surprise me, so I’m only repaying you. Ah, that fallen angel isn’t here yet. He is late for our meeting. What a hopeless man. Waiting for him is a waste of time. Let’s leave him be and get down to business. (to defeat the Huns~! XD) Oh right, I haven’t told you precisely where we’re going. I have some friends who know a lot about shōgi. If we ask them, we will now where to find good-quality shōgi materials. Why are you so surprised? I may not look like this, but I’m pretty well connected. Ah, you came. Good morning. What a beautiful weather we have today. Is something wrong? Ah, let me introduce you. Those gentlemen are mister Tanaka and mister Satō. They’re playing shōgi here every weekend. They both are more than 70 years old. They’re veterans of park’s shōgi. What’s happened? You don’t have to pull me. What’s wrong? That’s a difficult question. If I have to answer, I’d say they’re… walking companions? I really like taking a walk in this park, so we met a few times and became friends. Whether a devil or a human, we both enjoy walking. Thanks to it, they’re cherishing me like a grandson. They should know where to buy a good-quality shōgi materials. Please wait a moment.

2:45

Roen: According to their advice, there should be a shop nearby. Yes, but let’s not be in hurry. Walking with someone is pretty enjoyable. Oh my? That’s unexpected. Who would have thought that you’re keen on walking too. Then let me invite you later. Yes, I’m looking forward to it too. I’ll think of a route you’d enjoy. Oh my? Is something wrong? That’s… an accessory shop? If you’re curious about it, shall we go inside? The true charm of walking is going out of the usual route once in a while. Let’s go then.

3:52

Roen: Hm… it doesn’t look like a valuable jewelry. Although, every product looks laborious. Humans are pretty skillful, aren’t they? Let’s see… I like this hair ornament. It has a beautiful tortoiseshell design. It’s probably only a cheap ornament, but it’s quite charming. Do I think so, because I’m sure it’d look good on you? Would you try it on? I understand. Please don’t move. You don’t have to be so embarrassed. I will only touch your hair. Or maybe you are expecting something from me? I was only joking. Would you show me this hair ornament? Ah, just like I thought, it looks good on you. You’re beautiful. Since we’re already here, let’s try on some other things too. Don’t you think those earrings would match your hair ornament? You can’t move like that. If you don’t stay still, I won’t be able to put earrings in. Oh my! I’m sorry. I touched your ear. Were my fingers cold? You’re blushing again. This time even your ears are red. When you react like this, it makes even me a little nervous. Why don’t you let someone care for you? I’d like you to let your guard down at least around me. Yes, please try to do so. Then as a practice, let’s try to put this collar on you. I think a simpler one would be nice. For example… how about this one? This delicate chain should look nice on you. Now it’s time for your neck to become red, huh? If you let your heart race because of this, you will give a devil a chance to take advantage of you. *kiss* I apologize. I was messing around too much. Please forgive me. We tried out a lot of things, but the hair ornament looks best on you after all. Let’s buy it then. I’ll pay for it, so please wait here. It’s a thank you gift for accompanying me in the walk. And this hair ornament is probably happy too. Someone who looks good in it will get it after all. Do you want to say you can’t accept my gift? That’s extremely disappointing. Looks like I’m no one important to you. You should have said so from the start. Then I’m going to pay, so please wait a little.

7:55

Roen: Looks like it’s the right shop. As expected of mister Tanaka and mister Satō’s recommendation. There is a lot of shōgi related things here. Although, which set is similar to the one that man’s owns… It’s pretty difficult to identify them. That reminds me, you took a photo of his shōgi board in the classroom, right? May I see it? Thank you very much. Slope of the upper part of a piece is pretty gentle. And pieces are pretty thick too. I think they’re quite similar to those. Did you find any other similar pieces? Ah, please show me. Why are you keeping your distance? Screen is small, so if I don’t bring my face closer, I won’t be able to see the photo. I’m doing it to find the piece. If you run away, I can’t see the screen. It can’t be helped. Looks like I have to take drastic measures. If we stick close to each other like this, you will get used to it whether you like it or not. We will stay like this for a while. Please don’t run away. It can’t be helped, right? When you stop being so embarrassed, I’ll let you go. But there is a possibility it’ll take a whole day-...

Shiki: Hey, this piece looks the same as Rem’s!

Roen: Ah! Y-You! When did you-…?!

Shiki: Hm? I’ve just came to this shop. But I was tailing you two from the park.

Roen: Excuse me?!

Shiki: You were choosing a hair ornament for her, enjoying your walk with a smile… So even Roen is capable of such things.

Roen: You were following us? What a tasteless man!

Shiki: But you are the one who stole a march on me and had her all for yourself. You showed me some interesting things, so I’ll forgive you.

Roen: Don’t make a show of me.

Shiki: Shouldn’t we focus on this piece right now? Look, it’s identical to that Rem had.

Roen: Such a nonsense. How is it si-… Ah, you’re right, it’s similar.

Shiki: If we just put color on it, it’ll be perfect.

Roen: It’s hard to admit, but thanks to you we have all materials now. I’ll forgive you and sheathe my sword for today.

Shiki: Huh? But you can just punish me!

Roen: When you say such things, I lose my motivation even more. Let’s go straight home after we buy the piece.

Shiki: Oh? Are you sure? “The true charm of walking is going out of the usual route”, isn’t it?

Roen: Ugh. I’m not angry. I just don’t want to have anything to do with this fallen angel anymore.

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Track 5: Piece’s replacing

0:21

Shiki: Yeah, Rem and other students left the classroom.

Roen: Now is our chance to go inside. *they go inside* I’m using magic to keep people out. No one should enter this room for a while.

Shiki: Then let’s just leave this piece quickly. I painted it and falsified a little, so now it looks like the original one.

Roen: The piece I’ve found was good after all.

Shiki: But I’m the one who found it. Oh, whatever.

Roen: Okay, leave the king piece here.

Shiki: Yup, it’s perfect. Rem won’t notice it for sure.

Roen: So the incident is solved now. Rem Arlond got his piece back, so it should improve his mood. Everything will work out peacefully. I wasn’t even involved in this incident, so why I had to worry about it so much?

Shiki: Why not? It was a lot of fun.

Roen: You wasn’t treated like a culprit, so you can say such carefree things. I was interrogated and observed by him. It was really hard for me those past few day.

Shiki: Hm? Why didn’t you like it? Being questioned about things you don’t know, getting looks full of suspicion, having your every move observed… it all sounds so exciting!

Roen: Shut up please. More importantly… why do you have such a difficult expression?

Shiki: Ah, right, we still have no idea who the culprit is.

Roen: We haven’t got enough clues and we can’t even guess why someone stole that piece. It’s impossible to solve it now. Although, I don’t like the idea of letting go a culprit who falsely accused me.

Shiki: I don’t really mind either way. Oh. But if he is found out, he will be severely punished, right? It can be quite funny to watch it.

Roen: You’re as disgusting as always. But we don’t have any way to catch him.

Shiki: That’s a shame. It’d be good to have some brilliant idea. Eh? You have an idea?

Roen: Hm, I see. When the culprit hears the piece is back, there is a possibility he will come to check it. It’s worth a try. If we manage to catch him, we should… thank him a lot for this incident.

3:46

Roen: No results after a couple of days. No matter how long we wait, culprit isn’t showing himself. Our plan has failed. Oh!

Shiki: Roen? Are you here?

Roen: Oh, it’s you two. Oh, you got me something? Thank you very much. I was getting thirsty, so I appreciate it. But why am I left as a lookout like in some detective drama?

Shiki: Because it was your idea. So, any results?

Roen: Unfortunately no.

Shiki: He won’t come after all.

Roen: Yes. Let’s just give up. Of course it’s not good. I want to catch the culprit and make him atone for his sins. But we don’t have any other way to catch him. Our investigation will end here-… Is that?!

Shiki: Something is getting close. Come on, hide.

Roen: What? It’s a crow.

Shiki: It’s flying to Rem’s desk…

Shiki & Roen: AH!

Roen: It picked up the piece we left there and flew away.

Shiki: Who would have thought that our culprit is that crow. I didn’t expect it to be an animal.

Roen: Stop being so carefree!

Shiki: Yeah, if we lose sight of it, we won’t be able to catch it. I will fly after it, so follow me.

Roen: Let’s go after him. Please grab me. We will fly with my magic.

6:02

Roen: Ah. So here you are. Where is the crow?

Shiki: I lost sight of it around here. I think it went to its nest.

Roen: Crows have a habit of building nests on big trees. That one is the biggest tree around.

Shiki: You’re right. I’ll go and check.

Roen: Wait a minute. If you thoughtlessly approach the crow, it’ll attack.

Shiki: Is there a problem here? I’m expecting that!

Roen: I was stupid to worry about you. Just go already.

Shiki: Okay. *flies to the tree* You don’t need to be so cautious. I’ll only check your nest for a moment.

Roen: He is communicating with a bird. What’s wrong with that fallen angel…?

Shiki: Found it! Sorry, but can I take this king with me? I’ll give you the one we made. Thanks, that’s a big help. *flies back* I’m back. I retrieved the piece.

Roen: A crow collecting shōgi pieces is pretty unique.

Shiki: Looks like it collects shiny things. I wonder if it’s a habit or something? You look relieved. I’m leaving the piece in your hands. Give it back to Rem. He probably won’t honestly accept it from us.

Roen: More like he would tell us: “you were the culprit after all!”.

Shiki: It wouldn’t be such a bad development if you ask me. But you’ll be happy if that incident is solved peacefully, right? Then I leave it to you.

Roen: Now the matter is settled. But I wonder what face would Rem make, if he knew he was robbed by a crow. Just thinking about it is pretty delightful. Don’t you think so too? *crow says yes! xD*

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Track 6: Truth like a lie

0:06

Shiki: Glad that Rem’s mood is better now. Thanks to it, I can focus on painting.

Roen: What are you saying? You were enjoying yourself to the fullest when we were looking for a culprit!

Shiki: What’s bad about it? I bought a new brush. I wanted to use it and paint something~ It’s really comfortable to use after all. It was worth using your skin to choose the right one.

Roen: Please wait a minute. What do you mean by “using her skin”? What’s happened when you were buying that brush?!

Shiki: It’s a secret~ Leaving that aside, it’s a good thing we solved the incident, but academy is facing a hard time now, right?

Roen: You mean those anti-crows installations in the whole academy?

Shiki: Yup, yup. Ren tried to act tough in front of her, but it was a big shock for him that a crow tricked him.

Roen: Is that so? That’s a pretty delightful information. I was pretty depressed at first, but now when I think about it, it’s a wonderful thing.

Shiki: I just genuinely like it. That anti-crows system. It’s so disgusting, how nice~

Roen: I’m not going to argue with your aesthetic sense. Nevertheless, crows are pretty clever animals, aren’t they? From all pieces it chose the most important one – the king. But why didn’t it touch any other piece?

Shiki: Isn’t it because, everyone just need one thing they like? Right?

Roen: Why do you look at her when you say it?

Shiki: Maybe I also should just snatch away what I like and hide it?

Roen: I also want to keep my precious things safe. I won’t give it to you.

Shiki: So let’s fight to find out who will be able to get her.

Roen: As you wish.

Shiki: Oh? It’s the crow from before?

Roen: Looks like you’re his target! Please run away! Ah! That’s a hair ornament I bought for her!

Shiki: And the brush I gave her!

Roen: Its target isn’t this girl, but shiny things she has! Ah, stop right there! I can’t give it to you!

Shiki: Exactly! Without that brush, she won’t be able to imprison me in a canvas!

Roen: I don’t care about that. Let’s just go!

Shiki: I prefer being chased than chase, but there is no other choice this time.

Roen: Please don’t worry. I’ll get it back no matter what.

Shiki: For you, the one I like.

Roen: Okay, let’s go.

Roen & Shiki: I won’t let you escape!

THE END

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