#he HAS to make them in front of people who 1. recognize the pun as a pun

[monarchetype]

magnus archives au where instead of taking statements jon can only feed off of people groaning at bad eye puns

[pocket-luv101]

Flowers Lost to Time // Chapter 2

Fandom: Genshin Impact Ship: CynoNari

Summary: Each Valuka Shuna are blessed with a mark that will tell them who their soulmate is. Tighnari has a flower tattoo but he couldn’t recognize what it is. (CynoNari, Soulmates AU)

(Ch.1) // Ch.2

“Let’s stop behind that dead tree and rest. The tree should give us a little shelter from this sandstorm.” Cyno pointed at a shadow against the veil of sand. Tighnari didn’t know how he was able to distinguish anything in the sandstorm. He thought that the heat would be the most dangerous part of the desert but now he feared that they wouldn’t be able to find the path back to the rainforest. That brief worry disappeared when Cyno squeezed his hand. He trusted that he would they would return home together.

They hiked up the hill. The shallow slope was made difficult by the shifting sand and wind threatening to throw them deeper into the sandstorm. They kept each other grounded as they walked. When they reached the tree at the top, the wind was weak enough that they could take a break to catch their breaths. Tighnari leaned against the tree trunk and he was grateful that the tree blocked the sandstorm slightly.

“Tighnari, sit down.” Cyno told him. While he didn’t know why he would ask him to sit, he trusted his judgement. He was more familiar with the desert than he was. Tighnari lowered himself on the ground and Cyno knelt in front of him. He placed his hand on the bark over his shoulder and leaned over him. The closeness made Tighnari’s heartbeat quicken. He could only hope that Cyno wasn’t able to hear his heart racing in his chest.

The wind pulled at Cyno’s dark cloak and it billowed behind him. He took off his cloak and moved the fabric so it was draped over them both like a tent. “This should keep us from swallowing sand while we’re talking. A tent would be better but setting up camp in this weather would be too in tents. We’ll have to settle for my cloak for now.”

“You can make lame puns even in a situation like this?” Tighnari let out a small laugh. He knew that the sandstorm was the reason Cyno said the pun. He would tell jokes to his Matra so they could feel comfortable and relaxed with him. Cyno hoped the same technique would distract Tighnari from the sandstorm. No matter how stiff and forced his joke was, the intent behind it touched his heart. Though, the sandstorm didn’t scare him with Cyno with him.

Despite how his cloak blocked the sunlight, Cyno was able to see Tighnari grin up at him. His smile could light the night sky better than the sun. As implausible as it was, he wanted to see his smile everyday. “This is the first time you’ve laughed at one of my jokes.”

“Don’t exaggerate, Cyno. You have a few funny jokes at first but I’ve heard them all a thousand times by now. Please don’t take that as a challenge to make even more puns.” Tighnari ordered and placed his finger against Cyno’s lips. “I’m not going to pretend to laugh at your jokes like Collei and your Matra would. I doubt that you’ll want me to lie either.”

People rarely spoke so bluntly with him the way Tighnari did. With his reputation as the ruthless and stern General Mahamatra, most were distant from him. He told himself that their assumption didn’t bother him because it helped his work. However, he couldn’t deny that his conversations with Tighnari felt refreshing. No matter if someone was a student or sage, Tighnari spoke with them the same. That was one of the reasons Cyno fell in love with him.

While Cyno was distracted, the wind stole his cape from his hand. Tighnari reached out to catch it before it could go too far. He leaned into his body and his shifting weight pushed him backwards. The sand and wind made it impossible for them to stay balanced. Cyno felt himself fall back over the incline and he instinctively wrapped his arms around Tighnari to protect him.

The other side of the cliff was much steeper than the side they climbed earlier. They rolled down the hill and Cyno winced as rocks scraped against his skin. He ignored the pain and held Tighnari tighter against him. He couldn’t grab anything to stop their fall without letting go of him. The only thing he could do was wait for them to reach the bottom and hope neither of them would be hurt.

Dendro energy surrounded them and their descent slowed slightly. Cyno couldn’t open his eyes but he recognized Tighnari’s will within the dendro. He tried to grow grass on the sand but it was difficult to focus when he was disorientated.

Suddenly, the ground disappeared beneath them.

The fear that they had fallen off a cliff gripped Cyno and a thousand regrets followed that thought. He could’ve tried harder to dissuade Tighnari from joining him on the expedition. He should’ve done more to protect him. Cyno wished that he told him that he loved him. “Tighnari, I—”

He couldn’t finish the confession before he landed on the hard ground. His words trailed off in a low groan. Between the tumblr down the hill and the impact of the fall, it took a few moments for Cyno to reorient himself. Tighnari recovered first and he sat up. He leaned over Cyno and called his name. “Cyno, are you okay? I’ll treat your wounds. Damnit, why is it so dark?”

“My body is a little sore but nothing is broken.” Cyno reassured Tighnari. He reached through the darkness and gently took Tighnari’s hand. He squeezed his fingers and that light touch was enough to calm him. As a Forest Watcher and doctor, Tighnari treated many injured people and animals. Yet, seeing Cyno hurt still scared him.

“It’s best if I check for any broken bones or if you have a concussion. Humour me, Cyno.” Cyno rarely allowed himself to appear weak and vulnerable as the General Mahamatra. On the other hand, he liked whenever Tighnari cared for him. He nodded and a relieved smile spread across Tighnari’s lips. Tighnari took off his sweater and sash and then folded it into a pillow for Cyno. His shirt rose slightly and Cyno stared at the flower tattoo on Tighnari’s hip.

The only light in the room was from the hole they fell through. However, even that dim light was diluted by the sandstorm outside. Cyno struggled to sit up and placed his bag next to Tighnari. “It’s lucky that we didn’t lose our supplies in the fall. I have a flint in my bag. This place that we fell is safe from the sandstorm but it’s too dark.”

As though in response to Cyno’s voice, a lamp in the center of the room came to life. Light flooded the room and they could see each other again. Tighnari scanned the room for any clue to where they had fallen. His gaze was drawn to the unique lamp. The light was from a flame but a cluster of gold sunlight and stardust. The two elements swirled together and it was contained by a shrub. The scholar in Tighnari wanted to study the strange mechanism.

Tighnari turned away to focus on Cyno. He took out a balm to disinfect the scrapes on his skin as he searched for further injuries. Cyno sat in front of him and allowed Tighnari to treat him. It was a scenario that they’ve been in many times before. He traced his finger over the faded scars on his back. He wished that he could always be by his side to protect him instead of treating his wounds afterwards. That was the reason he suggested that they search for the City of Sapphire together.

“Where do you think we are? I read a few books about King Deshret’s kingdom but there weren’t any records of a ruin here. Also, that lamp is unique from other artifacts from his kingdom.” Tighnari wanted to learn more about the desert to prepare for their trip. Unfortunately, the Akademiya didn’t preserve their history well.

“This is a Jinn shrine. The Temple of Silence had diagrams of Jinn shrines but this is the first time I’ve seen one. Once, I asked the priests to visit Ay-Khanoum to see one. They said that a trip to Hadramaveth is too dangerous.” Cyno rarely spoke about his life before he came to Sumeru city and Tighnari was curious. He told him how the Akademiya treated him like an experiment before Sage Cyrus adopted him. What was his life before that? Did he miss the desert?

“My lord.” An unfamiliar voice startled Tighnari and he turned to face the person behind him. In a single smooth action, he nocked his bow and aimed it towards the voice. Tighnari was confused when he found that the room was empty. He didn’t lower his bow, worried that the voice could be a spirit or abyss monster. Cyno needed more time to recover from the fall so he would protect him.

“I can’t hear a person’s footsteps or their breathing. Can you sense where that voice came from?” Tighnari asked Cyno behind him. His ears twitched as he strained to hear any hint of the person. He could only hear the rustle of sand blowing against the floor. He never had difficulty hearing someone with his sharp senses before.

“It is an honour to be able to see you again, my King. Ferigees has stood guard for three thousand years. I cannot leave this gate but I heard your voice through the shrine.”

“That voice is from a Jinn. They must have recognized me because of Hermanibis’s spirit inside of me.” Cyno’s assumption was reasonable but Tighnari wondered if they could be more behind Ferigees’s words. She called him a lord instead of a priest or divine spirit. Tighnari couldn’t linger on the possibilities for long before a thought came to him.

“Ferigees is a Jinn from King Deshret’s civilization! That means she knows how King Deshret was able to cure his people of Eleazar. At the very least, she can show us where the ruins are and we can gather any research notes the doctors left behind. We can save Collei.” Tighnari cheered and he hugged Cyno in his excitement.

Cyno knew that it was best to be practical and temper their expectation for a cure. Yet, when he looked into Tighnari’s eyes, he couldn’t help but be swept away.

“There’s a breeze so we’re close to the end of the cave. I can also hear water.” Tighnari said. They followed Ferigees’s direction and to a ruin beneath the tornado. The Jinn told them that she didn’t know how King Deshret purged Forbidden Knowledge and Eleazar from the land. Though, she offered to take them to an orchard that might give them answers.

The tunnel they walked through was seemingly devoid of life and Tighnari worried that the Jinn might’ve tricked them. The light at the opening of the cave was blinding and Tighnari prepared himself to step into the sandstorm of Hadramaveth. When they stepped fully into the sunlight, his breath was taken away. In front of them was an ethereal oasis.

Tighnari had never seen a few of the flower species before and he ran forward to study them closer. Did the plants have medicinal properties? Without the original notes from King Deshret’s sages, it would take a lot of experimentation to know if it could be a cure for Collei. It was a start though.

He took in a deep breath to smell the flowers and realized that the oasis didn’t have wind. He looked up at the leaves to see whether they moved with a faint breeze. A bird hovered over a branch as if it was about to take flight. The animals and fishes around them were also frozen in time. The beauty of the oasis was overshadowed by the mystery of why time had stopped in the domain. Ferigees didn’t appear malicious so he doubted she led them into a trap.

He stepped onto the grass and thought he could hear a faint voice draw him deeper into the oasis. Cyno stood next to him and he appeared as confused as he was. Tighnari followed his gaze to the small island resting in the center of the pond. He instinctively took Cyno’s hand. “Should we go back to the surface? There’s a better chance to find a cure by finding a hospital and clinic in King Deshret’s kingdom. Cyno?”

“What? Oh, sorry, I was distracted, Nari.” The Temple of Silence had told him of the Eternal Oasis but he believed that it was a fairytale. Staring at the oasis now, he could almost believe that he had stepped into a blissful dream. He glanced around the lush garden but his eyes would always fall onto Tighnari. Would King Deshret be offended if Cyno told him that his garden couldn’t compare to Tighnari in his eyes.

Cyno turned away from the garden and said, “This is a spiritual place for someone to grieve. We shouldn’t linger here for long. At least this domain is connected to several places in the desert and it can help us find the City of Sapphire.”

“For someone to create a garden like this, they must’ve loved them dearly.” It was clear that Cyno knew far more about the oasis that he didn’t tell him. Tighnari didn’t expect to find a domain filled with life and flowers in the desert. As much as Tighnari wanted to ask him where they were, he didn’t. He trusted Cyno’s judgement and that he would’ve told him if he needed to.

They reached the top of the hill and Cyno paused in the doorway. He plucked a green flower from the vine hung next to the cave. Cyno touched Tighnari’s ear and, when he didn’t pull away, he carefully tucked the flower into his hair. Tighnari reached up and touched the flower’s soft petal. “Wouldn’t it be disrespectful to take a flower from a sacred place?”

“I doubt King Deshret will miss a single flower,” Cyno reassured him. “I picked this one because it looks like your tattoo.”

“My tattoo? Five green petals shaped like diamonds.” Tighnari echoed the word and his body became tense. His hand shook as he took the flower from his hair and traced the familiar petal shape with his fingertips. He stared at it in disbelief. “No wonder I couldn’t find it. This flower is from the time of King Deshret and likely extinct. It only survived here because the oasis is frozen in time.”

“Should we bring the flower back to the rainforest and grow more? I’m not a botanist so I don’t know if introducing a new species of flower into the forest will have an effect on the environment. Though, it would be a shame to leave these flowers here. They’re beautiful.” Cyno plucked another flower from the vine.

“No!” Tighnari’s yell surprised Cyno. He was further taken aback when Tighnari took the flowers from his hands and dropped them on the ground between them. “It’s better if these flowers stay here. I don’t want to take them back.”

“I’m sorry.” Cyno didn’t understand Tighnari’s reaction to the flower but he reached out to comfort him. He cupped his cheek and stepped closer to him until their toes touched. He gently blue away a green petal from his hair. “It was a silly suggestion. You taught me enough to know that the rainforest’s ecosystem is sensitive to changes.”

Tighnari’s heart ached when he saw his expression. He hadn’t meant to hurt him or make him feel guilty with his reaction. He clutched the fabric of his shirt in his hand as he thought of how he could explain why the flower had a special meaning to him. He stepped back from Cyno and pushed down his pants enough to show the tattoo on his hip. The tattoo matched the petals on the ground.

“Why couldn’t that be the first flower you’ve given me?” He bit his lip lightly and then repeated the legend his father told him. “Valuka Shunas only fall in love once. This mark is a blessing from the Dendro Archon to help us find our soulmate. The first flower our mate gives us will be on our body. If we take that flower to the rainforest, there’s a chance someone else will give me the flower. I don’t want someone to give me that flower unless it’s yo—”

Tighnari stopped himself before he could confess his feelings to him. He never thought much of his tattoo or his soulmate while he grew up. The flower was unique and he believed he wouldn’t learn its name. The possibility that someone would take him away from Cyno seemed like a far away possibility. Now that flower laid at his feet.

“Let’s go home,” Tighnari tried to walk past Cyno and flowers.

“Wait!” He stopped him. He took his hand and pulled him back. Tighnari’s foot slipped on the vine and he fell into his embrace. He wrapped his arm around his waist and longing filled Tighnari. Cyno squeezed him against his chest and held him as if he feared he would slip away like the flower petals. He whispered: “I’m the first one to give you that flower. Maybe I’m your mate.”

“It has to be the first flower someone gifts me. You’ve given me a million flowers before.” He wanted to savour his familiar warmth even as his heart ached. Since he wasn’t his mate, Cyno was fated to find someone else. He couldn’t push him away though. “A Padisarah when we were students and I was struggling with my thesis. The lotuses for Collei’s medicine. Even last night, you came to my tent with hibiscuses.”

“Those were things I gave you but they weren’t romantic gifts. I picked those flowers because I thought they would help with your research or medicine. That flower was the first time I wanted to give you one simply because it was for you.” Cyno didn’t let go of him but he turned them slightly to look up at the flower. “I want to be with you, Tighnari.”

“The first flower my lover gave me.” He said and circled his arms around Cyno’s neck. At first, Cyno thought that he was returning his embrace. Tighnari stood on his toes and stretched his arms to pluck a fresh flower from the vine. He rocked back onto his heel and held the flower against his lips. “It looks like I’ve found my soulmate.”

[harfanfare]

I saw this post and I was wondering if you write Malleus' too, is okay for you to make that?

How to win a heart of Malleus Draconia?

a/n: I started posting my writings here because I want to improve my English — so I technically wouldn't make this request. But! Someone on Wattpad (where I take requests) asked for the same thing, so I rolled up my sleeves and wrote this guide today in both languages. Enjoy~

1. Don't be afraid of him.

It is said that the first impression is the most important.

So when you first saw this guy walking through the corridor of Diasomnia, it was hard for you to get rid of that view from your head.

Illuminated both by the green magic flames set in the lobby, as well as by the moon, which eventually managed to break through the dark clouds and with a bright glow appear in the windows of the dormitory, he seemed... lonely and beautiful.

You shuddered as you took a step down the hallway and the dark-haired man turned to you. He measured you with his emerald eyes. And then you recognized him; all the conversations about the mysterious and fearsome Malleus Draconia flew through your head.

Everything told you to rush towards the hallway and run as far as possible, but a piece of you found it inappropriate. Or rather, no one would want to chase everyone away from themself... right?

When you realized you were looking at him for a while, you took a deep breath and nod slightly.

"Good evening, Draconia-san," you said quickly. After a while you added, "The moon is beautiful today, don't you think?”

 2. Smile a lot.

Today was a really wonderful day: the test was postponed, your favorite dish was given in the canteen, and for some reason, the last two lessons were canceled – your class had to make just a quick note about a topic and it took less than fifteen minutes.

"Something happened?" Malleus asked, seeing how almost in the jumps you walk past him. When you looked at him, he added, "You smile a lot.”

"I can stop smiling if you want," you made a sad face, but after a while, the corners of your mouth began to tremble uncontrollably and twisted up again. "Oops, I can’t. Today... it was such a good day... that I think I'm slowly using my life's happiness.”

"I didn't say that smiling is bad," he said. "You look so much better when you smile.”

"Oh," you sighed with apparent surprise. "Is it a compliment?"

"It’s rather a fact..?"

 3. From time to time visit him during club activities.

"Is this a class of the ‘Gargoyle research society club’?” with a deaf knock you opened the door. Malleus turned to you, making a break from browsing through the materials gathered in the library about the history of each of the gargoyles on the school grounds. And there were a lot of them.

"Yes," he replied briefly, getting up. "Do you need something, [Name]?"

"Not at all, my club don’t have a meeting today," you said, closing the door behind you.

You looked around: the room was as clean as ever, except for one desk, where were laid several huge volumes about statues in NRC.

“Are you here alone?” You said before you thought. You lowered your eyes to see Malleus nodding unconcerned slightly. You blinked several times trying to think of what else you could say. "This room... could be a secret base," that was the first thing that came to your mind. Malleus turned his head to one side, uncertain of your response.

“A secret base..? Why?”

"I have no idea," you admitted quickly. "But the very existence of a mysterious point is interesting, isn't it? Doing normal things, such as watching movies or just talking, seems more interesting in places like this,” After a moment of silence, you sighed. "You know what, this idea with the base is stupid”

"We can try," he replied with serious tone. You raised your eyes to see how he looked around the room. "But you'll just have to explain this idea to me in more detail. We can also tell Lilia, Silver and Sebek about it...” he smiled as if seeing your five together in his thoughts was a pleasure. "It will be surely... fun.”

 4. Get yourself a Tamagotchi.

"Look!" you spin a new key chain on your finger. You finally stopped and showed it to Malleus. "Now they are matching!”

A small electronic toy, in a dark green screen that, when it flashed, showed a virtual, pixelated animal. You were impressed with how good quality it was made, especially since you only gave the Shroud brothers a sketch of a toy that Malleus owned.

Your keychain was exactly the same, just a different color and with another pet.

Malleus pulled out his own device and put it on the table. He pressed one of the buttons and a small pet appeared on the keychain – a dragon.

"They can now be friends," you brought your toy closer to so-called Gao-Gao Dragon-kun.

"Do you think so?" He asked in a very surprised tone, but it sounded as if in a moment he were about to burst out with an inexplicably joyful and surprised laugh.

"Of course. Everyone needs a decent friend, no?”

 5. Gain the trust of Lilia, Silver and Sebek.

Lilia, one of Malleus' closest people. It is much more likely that you will meet him before Malleus. He will be very proud when he learns that Malleus has found a friend. If you become a taster of Lilia, in terms of his pastries, he will 100% like you, and at 20% you will leave the kitchen alive and well.

Silver, who has mastered the art of sleeping in any conditions. It's easy to get him into your plans, although with the craziest ones he will hesitate. Rather well-disposed towards everyone, he can cover for you when you are not in class— but he usually inadvertently falls asleep and both of you often have penal assignments after school.

Sebek, faithful to Malleus, if he doesn't like you, you won't have too many opportunities to stay by Malleus's side without a thunderous glances at you. He will recognize you if you will listen carefully to his monologues about his master and as a sign of your friendship, he will teach you by heart of all the titles and achievements of Malleus so far.

With this trio by your side, you can get a lot further than you might have imagined...

 6. Be a master in hide and seek.

You’d give your right arm that your breath was too loud.

You pressed your hands to your mouth as you crouched in the corner of the room.

From whose voices you already heard, you knew that Lilia had already found Sebek. This meant that you or Silver would still be helping cook dinner since Malleus didn’t come at the start of the game.

This may seem silly, but the ability to play classic games was one of the elements of the art of survival in Diasomnia.

It was thanks to games like ‘stone-paper-scissors’, hide and seek or tag that household chores fell on the shoulders of the losers. Lilia loved the idea, and there was always a proud smile on his lips when he saw his beloved children play together.

You heard the steps behind you and shivered.

Very slowly you turned around and looked up to see Malleus standing over you and wondering what you were doing, crouching in the darkest corner of the room.

Puns were also included in the survival pack.

Fearing that Lilia would hear your whisper, you put your finger on your mouth, asking him not to say a word. You put a begging eye into it – all but not cooking with Lilia. Not again.

Malleus nodded, recognizing the gravity of the situation, although he smiled.

Really, no one would want Malleus to be an enemy.

Or at least in such a situation.

 7. Do not hesitate to ask him for help with learning.

"In theory, you should focus on the space around you," Malleus pulled a wand in front of him. It flashed, and almost at the same time, a thin but incredibly strong protective barrier was created around him. “Weaker spells can be reflected. In turn, the stronger ones are better to block”

You nodded understandingly.

Defensive magic was not something easy to understand. Most depended on the person against whom the counter spell was being prepared. And there are countless people who walk on this Earth and want to start fights.

"Unique spells block or avoid physically," he continued. You nodded at every subsequent sentence, slowly feeling like all the lessons are eventually gaining transparency. “Using unique magic against unique magic, the stronger will win, both will lead to explosions or completely reduce.

He looked at you when you wrote down the last sentence in your notebook.

"I sincerely hope that you will only need this information in class," he said with a sigh. "If you need help, call me. I will come. I promise.”

 8. Sometimes be persuaded to wear extravagant clothes.

"Do you really think it suits me?" you turned around, looking at yourself from every possible angle in the mirror.

You were going to the theater in a few classes to see some era-related play that you've been discussing now in history lessons. Everyone, respecting the reputation, actions and achievements of theatre, dressed in their best clothes.

Malleus stood next to you.

He was already wearing a black and white outfit with green accessories. They all worked so well together and fitted him like a glove that you were sure that the whole outfit was made especially for him.

"Yes," he replied. "Everything you put on today suited you very well.”

Once again, with critical eyesight, you looked at the outfit, face and hair, before you quickly turned off the lights in the room and closed the door behind you.

Then you smiled at Malleus.

"We can go now," you said. You made your way through the portal to the main NRC building. "And... thank you for your help.

"My pleasure," he said. Under no circumstances was it just a polite formula. He really loved looking at you.

 9. Invite him to your birthday/party.

"Another break from school soon, huh?" — you muttered, leaning against the railing.

You took a deep breath and let the fresh, pleasant air refresh you.

"Are you going to home, [Name]?" Malleus asked. Green lights were still flying around him, so you guessed he’d just appeared here.

"I haven't decided yet," you sighed. "It would be nice to go home, but the break won't be very long... Ah, that's right!” you straightened up and turned to him. "How about spending another break together? As soon as I can, I will contact my family... although I cannot promise anything.”

Though he did not show it, Malleus' heart beat a little faster.

Spend free time? With someone? With someone he likes?

"Of course," he sounded less calm than he thought. He wasn’t often invited anywhere, even for the things he should have been on, so there was a lot of excitement growing in his body. "I don't see anything against it.”

 10. From "The Great Malleus Draconia-sama" to "Love".

"Ah, The Great Malleus-sama!" you sighed theatrically, taking from him a box of chocolates with a joyful smile. You could promise that because of this dark-haired boy here, you slowly become pampered. "Thank you for your generosity!”

Malleus frowned.

"The Great Malleus-sama"..?” he pondered, putting his fingers to his chin. "Did Sebek told you again to call me with this title?"

"No," you laughed softly at his reaction. "I did it out of curiosity. Maybe I could call you some cute nickname, hmm?" you smiled mischievously.

"For example?"

"By adding ‘-chan’ to your name?” you turned on your phone and typed something related to the nicknames. You started reading suggestions and struggled to hold back from laughing. ” ’Sunshine’, ‘star’, ‘flower’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘love’...

"I like the last one," he said, and the invisible force stung you to the ground.

"Would you like me to call you like that? Out of curiosity or out of love?" You laughed, but your cheeks were all red with blushes.

He smiled sincerely at your reaction.

"Hmm, I wonder..?"

[five-rivers]

Medium Despair

For @sapphireswimming

.

Danny woke up gasping for air and fighting against his sheets. By the time he’d recognized his surroundings, he’d already rolled off his bed. He dragged in ragged, shuddering breaths. He could breathe. He could breathe. He wasn’t suffocating. He wasn’t at school, in his locker or otherwise. He could move he could stand. He did stand, skin prickling with the memory of electricity.

“Sydney?” he called, softly. “Is that you?” He could see a glowing form in the corner behind his dresser, and with that dream there weren’t a whole lot of other people it could have been, but it was polite to ask. At least in Danny’s opinion.

The ghost slid out, slowly, flickering. “Sorry, Danny,” he said, and he really did sound remorseful.

Danny might believe it more if it wasn’t 2:20 in the morning on a school night, and this wasn’t the third time Sydney had done this. Still, Sydney was something like a friend.

“What is it, Sydney?” he asked. “Did something happen at the school?” Casper High was one of the most haunted buildings in Amity Park, which honestly didn’t make sense.

Danny had done his research. The school was old, sure, but Sydney was the only person who had ever actually died there. That didn’t stop the Lunch Lady, Technus, and a whole host of others from hanging around the place, although most of those others were pretty weak. Hardly strong enough to even interact with Danny or other ghosts.

Sydney shrugged.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Sydney looked down at the ground. The puddle of not-light he cast on the ground – visible only to only Danny and other ghosts – rippled and glimmered.

Danny frowned. “I have fun talking to you during the day, Syd, but I do have to sleep. I’m human, you know?”

“I know,” said Sydney.

“So why are you here?” asked Danny, briefly spreading his arms in exasperation and the dropping them to his sides again. He was still unsettled by the dream he’d just had.

Being close to ghosts while he was sleeping was just a recipe for nightmares. They weren’t always about their deaths, but more often than not…

Sydney’s death was a particularly unpleasant one. Danny did not expect to get back to sleep. Not tonight. Hence his annoyance.

“I need to…” started Sydney, before trailing off. “I need…”

“Sydney?”

“Warn you.”

“About what?”

“Not what they seem,” whispered the ghost. He looked away and phased out through the wall.

Danny’s frown deepened. Usually, Sydney was much clearer than that. Sometimes, talking to Sydney, Danny forgot he was talking to a ghost.

Danny sat down at the edge of the bed and tried to work a kink out of his neck. He caught himself scratching at his skin as if he wanted to pull it off a minute later.

It was always like this since the accident. Especially after he had a dying dream.

Forcibly, he stopped himself. His skin was fine. There was no electricity flickering under his skin. He was alive. He was safe. His body was his body. His body.

(He was not floating above it, light as air, staring at its waxy pallor, at the glassy, empty eyes.)

He was alive, alive, alive.

Awake.

Not dead.

Slowly, he laid back down on the bed. He was alive, awake. A medium, yes, associated with more ghosts than could possibly be healthy, either physically or mentally, yes, but alive. Definitely, clearly, alive.

He didn’t like it when ghosts woke him up. Especially when they came with ominous warnings about the future.

Maybe Sydney would let Danny track him down tomorrow, but Danny doubted it.

.

“Something’s off,” said Danny, staring up at the tall front of the school.

“Yeah,” agreed Sam, “it’s Spirit Week. When the teachers participate in medieval rituals to brainwash us into supporting the troglodytes that ‘represent’ our school in sports.”

“I was going to argue,” said Tucker, “but that is about what it’s for, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, “I don’t think it’s that. Probably. Unless there’s a ghost that appreciate the pun?”

“You appreciate puns.”

“I’m not a ghost,” said Danny, frowning at Sam.

“That’s true.”

Danny sighed. “I just have a bad feeling about this. I know you can’t see like I can, but… be careful. If you do see anything weird, let me know.”

“Hey, Danny!”

“Oh, I changed my mind. Kill me now, I want to be a ghost.”

Jazz ran up and threw an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “You left so early!” she said. “Are you excited about Spirit Week, too?”

“No,” said Danny.

Jazz paused, looked at Danny more closely. “You look terrible,” she said. “Maybe you should talk to the counselor?”

“Pass,” said Danny.

“You know, you’ll have to talk to me in more than monosyllables at some point.”

“Do I?”

Danny rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go to talk to Mr. Lancer about my speech! Have a great Spirit Week, guys!”

She ran off.

“I will never understand her,” declared Sam. “But I think she does have a point about the counselor. Maybe they’d be able to help with the nightmares? At least the non-ghost-caused ones.”

“All my nightmares are caused by ghosts.”

“Eh,” said Tucker, giving a half-shrug.

“Will it make you feel better if I agree to go?”

“Yes,” said both Sam and Tucker.

“Ugh. Fine,” said Danny.

.

Danny walked though the deserted hallway, pass in hand, study hall abandoned behind him as he looked for the counselor’s office. He’d never been there before, but it should be around here somewhere, right?

A cold hand settled on his shoulder.

“You must be Danny Fenton! Your sister told me all about you.”

Danny turned to look up at a tall woman. She was dressed a lot more flamboyantly than Danny would have expected.

“Yeah? That’s me. Who are you?”

“I’m Penelope Spectra. Your counselor! Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“Uh,” said Danny. There was something unpleasantly an unexpectedly pejorative and assumptive about that statement. Weren’t counselors supposed to tell you that there wasn’t anything wrong with you? That your feelings were valid.

He shrugged. He couldn’t put his feelings into words.

(Couldn’t open his mouth for fear of cold leaking out past his teeth, his soul exhaled with his breath.)

(Why did he feel this way?)

“Why don’t you step into my office?”

The room was… not what he expected.

“Sorry about the dust,” said Spectra. “I’m just moving in. They upgraded me.” She smiled, showing all her teeth. “So… like I said, your sister told me a lot about you, and I have a few things I’d like to try for your laz—Excuse me. Your difficulty with staying focused. It happens sometimes with traumatic brain injuries, that a promising young mind can be—Well. In any case. I am here to support you and find a way for you to succeed. What’s troubling you?”

Danny’s ginger perch on the dusty chair turned into a frustrated slump. “Nothing,” he said. He pushed himself back up. “I should go—”

“Oh, just humor me,” said Spectra. “There has to be some reason you came. Anxiety? Stress? Social pressures?”

Danny shook his head and stood up.

“Nightmares?”

He sat back down.

.

Danny leaned over the table to whisper to Tucker during English, when they were supposed to be reviewing vocabulary words.

“Have either of you seen the counselor before?” asked Danny, after what was easily the worst week of his life. He was starting to have suspicions, but…

“Yeah,” said Tucker. “When you were in the hospital. He was pretty cool.”

“He?” asked Danny. “He?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been seeing a ghost for the past week.”

“Ghost therapist? Well, if it’s working…”

“It isn’t. She’s from hell. I swear. A literal demon from hell.”

“Exorcism?”

“Exorcism.”

.

Jazz didn’t often come to school after hours, but she’d left several important things and she was the student body activity director, voted for and everything.

Important thing #1, her speech, which she had to practice.

Important thing #2, the—what was that?

Already spooked by the late-night atmosphere, she ducked into a doorway and peeked at the place she’d seen movement. There weren’t many classes held down that hallway, and she didn’t come down this way often, so maybe she was just—

No. That was her little brother and his friends conducting some kind of satanic ritual over a wastepaper basket.

Their parents were terrible influences. She was going to give them a stern talking to when—what what what what WHAT—

What had she just seen?

She looked back around the corner to see the… whatever it was dissolve in smoke and fire and shadows. Then Danny and his friends started cleaning up as if this was a perfectly normal Thursday night.

Jazz… Jazz was going to process this. Later.

She turned around and walked straight back out to her car. There was, after all, nothing that important.

.

“So,” said Danny, leaning towards Sam on the bleachers as he watched his sister give her speech. “Looks like we saved Spirit Week.”

“Never say that to me again,” said Sam.

“But we did. Look at all this spirit-filled people.”

“You were literally the only victim.”

“But Sam~”

“It does seem less grim, though, doesn’t it?” asked Tucker, contemplatively. “You are no longer the goth bird of happiness.”

“Maybe a bit,” allowed Sam. “I think that’s just because everyone’s glad this week is over, though. No offense, Danny.”

“None taken. I’m glad it’s over, too.”

[callemreine]

You got a name?

‘You seem like an interesting individual with good music taste for blasting RAIN by Ben Platt in the middle of the night’

AU August

Day/Prompt: Day 1 - Coffee shop

Ship: Pre-prinxiety, platonic royality

Word count: 1244

Cw: swearing / food mention

@tsshipmonth2020

Virgil has been working on this particular coffee shop for three years now and never has been assigned to the night shift. Unfortunately, with the loss of a few of their employees due to a new coffee shop opening that happens to be near where they all live, he had to be moved to the night shift. It didn’t matter if the other shop was nearer and that he has to prepare for a lot of caffeine to intake.

When he first got to this job as a barista three years ago, it took him a long time to adjust to the other employees, the regular customers, the route to the shop, and the environment. He isn’t going to do that again if not necessary.

He already knew a few of the employees in the night shift cuz’ he was always the last one at the shop and they always met at the end of the day to inform them if there were any deliveries or important memos(and sometimes gossip about the regulars).

~*~*~

It was Virgil’s first day on the night shift and he is currently on an empty bus, listening to one of his playlists. He wanted to get some rest earlier to prevent intaking much more caffeine than he needed. He liked to pretend that he did get some rest and, not ended up endlessly scrolling and indecisively changing the appearance of his Tumblr blog.

When he arrived, he saw his co-worker, Janus, cleaning up the counter and preparing his stuff to end his shift. There was a small exchange between the two before Virgil fully settled in behind the counter, waiting for his other co-workers to come in. Eventually, Patton came in causing the bell on the door to ring, catching Virgil’s attention. “Good evening, Virgil!” Patton cheered as he skipped to the back, passing Virgil, to drop his stuff.

The two conversed for a while, with a customer or two coming in every once in a while. After an hour or so, Patton excused himself to sort out the delivery the shop received earlier. He also informed Virgil that if a person named Roman comes in, just tell him that Patton is at the back and just let him through. Virgil was worried they were letting random people inside, but Patton had been on the night shift for as long as he was on the day shift so, he just nodded at Patton’s request.

After a few customers, Virgil decides to make himself a drink. While his back was facing the shop’s entrance, he heard the bell by the door, signaling that a person had entered the shop. “I’ll be with you in a sec,” Virgil stated, still not facing the person.

~*~*~

Roman has been friends with Patton ever since they were in kindergarten and even though he wouldn't exactly trust the man with his life, seeing that he'd drop anything to pet a cat, he's still the friend that Roman had since the start and he wouldn't have it any other way.

As Roman entered the shop with his earphones blasting some Ben Platt tunes, he’s frantically searching for something in his messenger bag. He looked up when he realized no one had greeted him when he entered. Usually, Patton would happily greet him with a pun or already handing him his drink. Now, he sees a barista with purple hair with their back facing him.

"Ahh, you're new I presume," he continued to look inside his bag as he walked to the counter. "Well, my order is kinda complicated so, you're gonna have to write this down," he warns as the barista walks over to him. "Okay, SO... a skim milk latte, with 2 extra shots of espresso... affogato style... make two of those shots without caffeine... add only 4 squirts of fat-free vanilla... steamed at 180 degrees... add caramel on top... no whip... and don't fill the cup all the way���" he notices the barista just standing in front of him. He stops what he was doing and fully looks up to see the other doing something on the monitor in front of him. "W-why aren't you writing this down?" Roman inquires as he marvels and gawks at the gorgeous human being in front of him. Eyeing him from head to... how far his eyeballs can reach with a countertop in between the two.

"What size?" the barista asks, keeping their eyes on the monitor. "Uhh… the big one. Do- do you need me to repeat everythi-" He was cut off, "Ventihalfcafquadextrahotwithroomskinnycaramelmachiatto? You got a name?" Roman doesn't know how to react. He's in between confused, impressed, and somewhat offended. The barista was now looking at him, waiting for his answer. Roman looks over to the other's name tag that says 'Virgil'; when he looks back at Virgil, realizes that he still hasn't answered. "That…" he trailed off.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "That sure is… a question... that has an answer," Roman continued, stammering. Virgil rested his chin on his palm, his elbow on the counter. He flashed the customer an amused grin, "Take your time, man. I got all night long," Roman’s face went red but eventually did tell the barista his name after apologizing. “Ahh. So you’re Roman,” Virgil acknowledged as he wrote the name on the cup. “Patton’s in the back. Let yourself in,”

~*~*~

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a hot new barista coming in today?!” Roman whisper-yelled to his friend as he closed the door behind him. “Who? Virgil? He’s been working on this shop for as long as I have. This is his first time in the night shift, though,” Patton explained as he took the box of their new blender out of the larger box and handed it to Roman. “Can you give this to him and ask him to set it up on the counter? We’ve been waiting for that blender for months,” Patton politely asked with a smile. “Sure thing, Pat,”

“Hey. Patton asked me to give this to you and he asked if you could set it up,” Roman stated as he handed the box over to Virgil. Virgil finished the drink he was working on when he recognized the box and snatched the box from Roman’s hands and exclaimed, “Oh! Thank fuck! We’ve been waiting for this for months!” He placed it on the counter and excitedly took out the blender from the box. Roman snickered at the other’s antics, amused. “Oh! That’s your drink right there,” Virgil pointed to the drink he left on the counter. Roman thanked him and flashed him a smile as he heads back to his friend.

“What’cha got there, Roman?” Patton began. “Uhm? My usual drink?” Roman replied, confused. “No, silly. There’s something written on the side,” Patton giggled. Roman rotated the drink in his hands and sees small scribbled untidy handwriting. ‘You seem like an interesting individual with good music taste for blasting RAIN by Ben Platt in the middle of the night’ followed by a phone number. Roman blushed at the note.

He could hear the bell by the door ring followed by talking, muffled by the walls:

“What’s up, bitches!”

“Sup’ asshole. Where the fuck have you been? Is that- Is that a drink from the traitors?”

“Don’t worry, babe. It tastes like shit. I was gonna throw- Is that a new blender?!”

“Fuck yeah it is!”

‘This is going to be interesting,’ Roman smiled.

I honestly don't know how to write when it isn't prinxiety so for the entire(ish) month will be mostly prinxiety. But, if you want me to write a different ship with the prompt on a specific day on AU August, send me an ask! I can at least give it a try😅

[littlemisslipbalm]

Little Border Town Pt. 3

Summary: It begins with a man and a woman, as it always seems to. One lives in France and the other lives in Italy, technically, but they’re also neighbors. Various issues arise between these two and they can’t ever seem to see eye to eye on anything. Will they ever move past their petty fighting or is the little town they live in doomed to only gossip about what Harry and Y/N are fighting about today? 

Part 3: the one with the boat and the beginning of a storm

IT’S BEEN AGESSSS I AM SO SO SORRY I LOVE YALL SO MUCH AND EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER READ THIS THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT

also harry is wearing this fit in this part just no tie?? i think i cant remember

college has been incredibly crazy this year already and i just dont have time to write like i did before i went back. i honestly had this mostly finished and i havent reread so i have no idea what even happens so lmk what you think, i can’t imagine that it will get a lot of notes but if it did id be very happy about that - anyways lots of love and feedback appreciated as always...pls enjoy

Word Count: 6.6k | Warnings: ?? Swearing? idek, more yearning bc slow burn

Catch up here! part 1 | 2 |

-

“Isn’t the weather not ideal for boat sailing today,” she ponders as her face looks up at the sky. She’s walking into Harry’s store again after running back to her place to grab a jacket and lock up. She placed a notecard in the door’s window that says “closed today, see you tomorrow” with a smiling face as punctuation.

Harry grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He had sailing boots on his feet with a smart big-collared printed shirt and marigold trousers. Instead of a belt, he had suspenders that matched the color of his pants and a pearl necklace as his final accessory other than his rings. He must have repainted his nails this morning because they were a light lavender shade that hadn’t been noticeable last night.

“It’s just fine. We’re entering fall and the sun is out today!” He gestures to the sky above them and she nods in agreement that the sun is indeed out. However she wasn’t sure if she’d categorize it as a nice day to go out on the sea still. With the sun there were also many clouds, they were mostly white and fluffy, but she was sure they could turn sinister any moment.

“Ready?” He beams.

“As I’ll ever be.”

-

On the boat, Y/N felt her stomach churning. Was she giddy or unnerved? Likely, both.

Harry was tying the boat off the dock after helping her onto the deck. It wasn’t a huge boat, not a yacht or anything, but it also wasn’t a tiny sailboat. It had an upper deck where maybe four people - at most - could comfortably be. Then a lower deck, inside a hatch in the upper deck. She couldn’t discern how much space was down there, but she was sure Harry would show her. He was talking through everything he was doing on the boat. Ad nauseum for an extremely nontechnical girl, such as herself.

Still, she sat in the spot he had directed her to next to the closed hatch and watched him move gracefully around the boat. Maneuvering the sails and different parts of the boat was a dance for Harry. Each step, each twist and knot, moved by a song unknown to her. It was beautiful. He was completely in his element, surprisingly. Again, Harry surprised her. She knew he had a boat, but whenever she thought of a jerk with a boat she didn’t think of what she was seeing with her own eyes. It was beautiful - or at least, it would be, if he’d shut his big mouth that was now making her roll her eyes as he made a pun about boats.

“So,” Harry starts finally, finishing up whatever he needed to do to get the boat off the dock and on the path he wanted. They were moving out into open water, she could see the little town, but it was growing smaller by the minute. Her stomach churned again as she looked up at the man she had just trusted to take her out onto the ocean. She grimaced slightly at the thought.

“Do you want to see the inside?” he continued.

She nods eagerly, “Finally!”

He chuckles lightly before opening up the hatch and gesturing for her to go first. She looks at him hesitantly.

“This isn’t a trap right? It’s not going to be all...murder-y down there?” Her voice is pitched higher, she’s almost completely serious.

This time Harry’s laugh comes from his belly, almost doubling over at the word ‘murder-y’. Between laughs, he tries to reassure her. “God no...oh my god.” More laughter, then a deep breath. “The only evil entity on this boat is the diavola I invited on here,” he gestures to her standing in front of him and her eyes narrow. Displeasure washing over her features.

“You’re ridiculous,” her hand swats at his sternum before she turns from him and climbs down to the underdeck area.

When she’s down, she’s surprised with her surroundings and she doesn’t notice Harry follow quickly behind her. It’s neat and stylish. Well, she’s not completely surprised, Harry was very fashionable. But the neatness dissipated all thoughts of the improbable scenario where Harry had lured her on his boat to murder her. It was what she had been freaking out over when she had at first refused to enter.

There was a small daybed at the end of the hall that doubled as a couch, a door to a bathroom, a dining area, a kitchenette, and then the random area they were standing in. It wasn’t super spacious, it was a hallway with things around it, but it was clean and it smelled nice. Everything had a place and they were neatly put in their places. After a moment, she turned at the feeling of Harry’s presence behind her.

He grinned, scanning the areas her eyes had just taken in for the first time. His green eyes were filled with admiration. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, smells like you.” She nods matter of factly.

“Huh?” His head whips to her, sure he hadn’t heard her right.

“The whole place is very you,” she looks away from him and walks down the hall to the daybed and takes a seat, “Styles-ish.”

He follows quickly behind, shaking his head out of his own thoughts.

He mumbles a thanks, not catching the play on words she’d used with his last name. She smiles to herself, pleased. He stands in the doorway, not really wanting to sit beside her. Maybe he didn’t trust himself with being in such close proximity with her anymore. No, not after last night.

Her eyes widen slightly when he leans against the doorway and crosses his arms. The sleeves of his button-up had been rolled up when he had been working with the sails. Her lips suddenly are dry and she wets them with her tongue, eyes moving to the fabric of the blanket she’s sat on top of.

“I meant to say,” Harry breaks the silence, obviously not a fan of the quiet. A hand leaves his pose and runs through his hair, rings classically tugging at his curls. He swallows before he speaks again, “Thanks, uh, for stopping me last night. That would’ve been weird…”

He trails off and her eyes go wide again, but now they’re trained on his face. His eyes are downcast now, watching the way light plays off his rings. She tries to make out the sound in his voice, the expression he’s trying to hide with indifference. Her teeth tug her bottom lip into her mouth as she thinks, silence once again taking hold of the small, small room. The air is tense, static, unmoving, the complete opposite of the water that rushes just outside the walls of the boat.

She clears her throat and Harry locks eyes with her, “No problem...alcohol and atmosphere, clouds the head. I get it.” She did, but she also hadn’t wanted the gratitude Harry had just placed on her.  

“You booze, you lose,” he smiles, straightening up and she looks at him quizzically.

“That’s such an odd phrase.”

“No it’s not!”

“It’s a play on ‘you snooze, you lose’ right?” She leans forward, face looking smugly up at Harry’s offended face.

“Well, yeah,” Harry admits.

“I can’t believe you made that up and got it tattooed,” She states breezily and then stands. She brushes past him to look around the rest of the cabin.

Harry scoffs, not even noticing the way her fingers had brushed over his naked forearm as she passed, too focussed on his indignation. “How’d you know about the tattoo?”

“Naked neighbor? Never closing his shade? Do you seriously need a refresher course already? Seriously, boat boy, I really thought you were smarter than that,” She talks as she snoops around the different parts of the cabin. She pokes at figurines and looks at little photos and paintings. Her head looks over her shoulder and she laughs happily at Harry’s face of irritation. It was so easy to push his buttons.

“Don’t call me boat boy,” he seethes, but she knows he’s not really mad. More like he’s a child who got told no dessert before dinner. A laugh rocks through her body again and bubbles to the surface. It causes Harry to soften, this time there’s no alcohol in his system to account for the feeling he just felt. He mirrors the smile she has. That is until she reaches the kitchenette and finds a rack of CDs sitting beside the sink.

She turns from him and begins to leaf through them, most of them are artists she recognizes. But then she reaches some that are just titled “Demo” with various numbers beside the word. Her fingers nimbly pick out “Demo #1” and turn back to Harry with an inquisitive gaze. His green eyes are bigger than usual, the smile gone from his face.

“These from the boy band days?” She smiles wider as he turns a little red. She crosses closer to him, remembering the sight of a cd player in the main area where the entrance to the cabin was.

“Erm..no.” She flips around again, confused again, but then it dawns on her. “Demos for my solo work.”

“That you put on hold to take over for your Uncle.”

“Great Uncle.” He corrects.

“I know.” She waited a second, where she was about to be quick to play the CD, she now wanted to get Harry’s permission. It might be a little more personal than she had first thought. “Can we listen to this one? You’d technically be taking me up on the request to play for me sometime.”

“Yeah, they’re rough - obviously. So if you could try to not bruise my ego, at least not more than you usually do,” he grins and she looks at him with dead eyes. A smile cracks on her face quickly, still.

“I wouldn’t...this is different,” she struggles to find the right words. She would never make fun of something he cared a lot about, not now. She wasn’t that person, it was odd to think he maybe saw her like that. She shook away the thought and focused on placing the CD in its player correctly.

The first song begins to play, he’s right it is rough, it’s a demo. There’s no backing vocals or beat of any kind. Just a voice and a guitar. And it’s amazing. After the guitar intro, she lets out a breath she had been holding when she hears the voice. His voice. It’s beautiful. And she’s shocked, her eyes flash to Harry. He’s nibbling at his bottom lip, watching her hear it for the first time. His voice from all those years ago.

“Brooklyn saw me empty at the news, there’s no water inside this swimming pool.”

Her eyes light up again at the lyrics and she smiles, finding it melancholic yet slightly funny at the same time. It was interesting, the words, his voice, the meaning. Some bits of information eluded her, but she knew she enjoyed the song.

“And I’ve been praying, I never did before.”

Even as the song moved on from this one lyric, she felt it replaying in her head as she watched the singer in front of her. Years older than he had been when he had written this song. She was filled with questions and paused the CD as the guitar faded out.

“That’s it?” Harry laughs, “Just one song? It was really that horrible?”

“Oh my god, no!” She is emphatic, needing Harry to understand she’s serious. She takes a step closer to his figure. He had traveled closer to her while the song had played. They were almost chest to chest and her hand goes out to touch his forearm. “I really liked it, genuinely. I just needed a moment before the next one.”

“Bracing yourself?”

“Stop, I’m serious. It was beautiful. Your voice is wonderful, Harry.”

His eyes sparkle at the praise, finally believing she’s not taking the piss. Then his eyes dropped from her gaze, “I was a lot younger then, was 21 I think when I recorded this demo.”

“So? A voice like that doesn’t just disappear, dude.” She looks at him with a finality in her expression before dropping the hand that was firmly gripping his tattooed arm and turning back to the CD player.

Harry bites his lip as another one of his early songs plays over the shoddy speakers. His voice repeats “Meet me in the hallway” over the solo guitar. There’s no echo or bass, no count in like the final song was supposed to have. It’s just him and his guitar, before he chose to leave it all behind.

His voice is sadder here, she notices and she visibly winces at “just take the pain away” and “just let me know, I’ll be on the floor” and his repetition of “gotta get better.”

How did this man, who seemed fazed by practically nothing, have so much hurt in him to write both of these songs? Her eyes welled with water, but she blinked them back still staring at the singer before her. He was watching the CD spin in the player as his voice came through the speakers. He was lost in thought, in memory. Maybe she was lucky, these weren’t memories for her, she was only hearing his interpretation of his life. She hadn’t had to live that pain first hand. This time she doesn’t pause before the next song.

The next one seems more produced than the last two. This one starts with drums, a step up from the last two acoustic demos in respect to production. A big crash and then a wailing guitar and an accompanying voice. His voice is stronger here, more sure of himself. And then it changes again, melancholic once again and her heart strings are yanked at again.

“We’re not who we used to be, we’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me, trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.”

The guitar continues that sad tone for a riff and then goes back to strumming beneath his voice. She shifts her eyes to him again and sighs softly, it weighs heavy on her soul that the man next to her has seemingly been through so much heartache. He looks up at “We don’t see what we used to see” and she holds his gaze, brows knit together in confusion and sadness. She pauses this time, finger reaching out without looking.

“This is depressing, please tell me they’re not all sad songs or I might as well have turned on a pet rescue commercial.”

His smile etches on his face, in a small knowing smirk and he crosses into her personal space. She’s about to step back, but he reaches out and softly bats her finger away from the pause/play button. She smiles back, shuffling to lean against the counter beside him. It was unusual for them to be on the same side of the counter, much like last night at the bar.

“There’s six songs on this demo. Three sad, three…” he trails off, looking at her expectantly. She nods. “You gotta learn to be a little less impatient, hmm?”

“Not impatient, just trying to brace myself for more sadness. I thought I had been promised a day of fun,” she grumbles.

“I wasn’t the one who suggested a demo listening party,” his brows raise and she twists her mouth to the side at his smug response.

“True,” she finally concedes with a murmur.

He presses play and a new song comes on that is more upbeat than any of the other’s that have played so far. It also seems to be a bit more produced than the first two. Her hand rests on the countertop and begins to tap, she quirks her brow at the first lyric “she’s got a family in carolina, so far away, but she says I remind her of home.”  A girl who likened Harry Styles to the South of the United States, interesting. As she listens to the lyrics, she smirks at the massive crush he must have had to write this song. The “good girl” lyrics bounce around in her mind and her mind drifts back to last night. Would it have felt good? To kiss Harry?

Then, she’s brought out of her reverie with “I met her once and wrote a song about her”. Her eyes widen and look to Harry again inquisitively as his past self muses over how good this girl felt. He wrote about a one night stand? That woman must have been magic. That was all she had to say about that.

“Really?” She asks incredulously, folding her arms over her chest. His gaze flickers at the movement, human nature. He presses pause.

“What?”

“A one night stand earned that?”

He looked at her seriously, like the answer was obvious. She laughs before continuing.

“You’re a simp.”

“I’m sorry?” He sputters at her statement immediately.

She raises her brows as a response now. Nothing else to say.

“She wasn’t a one night stand,” he defends, “She was a blind date...and it had been after a dry spell.”

She starts to laugh, about to give another snarky response, but he adds, “And I was twenty-one.” The numbers specifically enunciated.

“You’re still a simp in my book...but I liked the song. It was catchy, rock vibes in there. I don’t know about her telling you remind her of Carolina - north or south, I don’t see it.”

He eyes her warily, still not happy with her titling him that gen z term that was super popular all over the internet. He took her in and he knew she was only three years younger than him, he was pretty sure, yet she used ‘simp’ and ‘vibes’ like they were lexicon words. He didn’t hate it, it was just different than what he usually heard in the little border town. Italian not having translations for things like that, English was so interesting, internet language was so interesting.  

“I-” He starts and stops. “She said it. Was she right? That’s not my place to judge.”

“I don’t know,” Y/N pressed, words dragging out playfully, “Personally, I wouldn’t want to be a reminder of the U.S. South, but okay...simp.”

“I swear to god if you call me that one more time, I’m throwing you overboard and I won’t feel bad about it.”

Her eyes widen and then she smiles, he cracks a smile too. They huddle back around the CD player, ready for the next song. It starts with a strong guitar and drums, again well produced compared to the acoustic earlier ones.

His voice in this is far more shaky, unsure of himself again. “Let me take my medicine, take my medicine, treat you like a gentleman,” comes through the speakers. She shivers and looks at him, her fingers tapping along to the beat. The instruments are strong where his voice is soft, it doesn’t exactly fit, but she likes the lyrics still. When it gets to the pre-chorus, that’s when she knows she loves the song.

“I had a few got drunk on you and now I’m wasted, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (tasted)”

When his voice pitches high for ‘wasted’ she loses it. Her body moves with the instruments and her eyes close and her head wiggles. Harry smiles happily as she dances for the first time to one of his songs. The last word must have been shouted by his bandmates, because she doesn’t hear him say it.

Then the chorus hits and she wonders how it got even better. Her eyes shoot open and she just stares at Harry, her jaw slightly dropped.

“If you got out tonight, I’m going out tonight cause I know you’re persuasive! You got that something and I got me an appetite now I can taste it”

His past self sings of getting dizzy and his voice moans into the mic the demo was recorded on. She’s blown away. It sounds so hot, his voice gaining confidence during the pre-chorus and the chorus to have an all around rockstar sound.

The present Harry just taps his rings together as he watches her, studying her reaction with an even-tempered expression. Why isn’t he screaming like she is on the inside? When it gets to the second verse she’s bracing herself for what’s to come. This song has her pulse racing and blood flowing wildly around her body. She’s buzzing from it.

“The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with him and I’m okay with it”

The electric guitar follows the line up and she thinks she’s going to pass out on this boat right now. Flamboyant Harry. Was this what Marie had been talking about. The wild side of Harry she really had never seen, embodied in one song. She wanted more of it. Still all she got was the Harry on the demo rocking out to his song. She can hear him smiling through the recording, the sad boy from a few songs ago was now feeling euphoric. She just wanted to dance the night away with him.

Then another pre-chorus: “I’m coming down, I figured out I kinda like it, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (ride it)”

His voice goes high again for ‘like it’ this time and her question of what is to follow is quickly answered with the bandmates screaming ‘ride it’ into the mics they must have had. It’s punctuated with the drums and other instruments. A noise escapes the back of her throat and Harry looks at her both smugly and amused. She rolls her eyes in response, trying to convince Harry that she hadn’t just had images of him singing about how good someone rides him flash in her mind. Even more so with the images of someone, namely her, being the object of his dreams. Doing the things he said he’d dream of. That, that was definitely not what she was thinking about. Definitely not. Her throat was dry and she swallowed hard. Harry’s eyes never left her face. Watching every reaction, gauging it and storing the information elsewhere for the time being.

She sings along to the chorus, trying to focus on the song, it was easy to pick up, but then the damn moans. And then there’s a guitar solo that sounds like sex itself and she’s baffled that this was an unreleased demo, not a famous rock song. Harry in front of her can’t stop himself from tapping his feet at this part, a little dance forming on his body as his eyes finally leave her figure. They close as he feels the music, the memory of his friend playing the riff clear in his mind and how much he had loved it. It builds up again and then there’s a final chorus. She watches him now as he dances in the confined space. His mouth opens to sing along to the “la la la’s”

It ends and goes straight into another upbeat song. It seemed like a complimentary song to the one that had just played.

“I don’t want your sympathy, but you don’t know what you do to me, oh Anna!”

His voice sings strong again. Harry before her composed himself again, going back to his watching position. He took in her tapping and smiling to the song. He also mouths the words slightly as it plays, the lyrics clear as the day he finished writing them almost 4 years ago. One of the final ones for this demo.

“Hope you never hear this and know that it’s for you, don’t know what I’d tell you if you asked me for the truth”

She smirks at him, now, with the earnest lyrics, about to say something, but then notices the change in the guitar. It switches from the epic riff that was going to a more familiar tune, “Faith” by George Michael. She looks at him, a cheesy grin on her face as the voice begins to sing the chorus of that song. Her body begins to dance to it, like an old man doing the twist. She’s not ashamed and Harry loves it and joins her by mirroring the movements.

When the song comes to an end, they’re one large giggling mess. She falls into his arms and he holds her steady, their laughter coming out with freedom.

“Thanks for making me be patient,” She looks up at him, “it was worth it!”

He smiles, backing up slightly, “It’s like I knew what I was talking about.”

“Ok smart guy,” she teases with a silly voice. “I’m assuming whoever Anna is, isn’t actually named Anna then...?”

Harry hums and makes a twitch of his brows, but doesn’t respond. Instead he grabs her hand and she squeaks slightly, he pulls her to the ladder and prompts her to go up. She obliges silently and lands back on the top of the boat now. She looks out and sees the little town to be off in the distances now, shining blue water all around the creamy white boat.

Harry stands behind her now and shuts the hatch easily. She looks at him warily, confused by his silence. He extends his hand to her this time and she takes it. He leads her to the front of his boat. They’re moving, but so slowly you’d barely notice. There’s a loveseat of sorts right at the front and Harry sets her down in it. She smiles at him with caution, still bewildered. He leans against a part of the boat that stands in front of the seat.

“It’s beautiful, right?” He asks.

Her eyes have been looking around her, but they’ve mostly been trained on Harry. She was mesmerized by him now. His music, his boat, his clothes, his everything. She was seeing him in a new light. In a completely brand new way that had her unable to take her eyes off of him.

She nods finally when Harry looks at her expectantly. “It’s amazing,” she breathes.

His smile is the half-sided grin again. Beautiful big teeth on display with a little part of space between them. His dimple pops out and once again her eyes are on his face. She realized going on this boat with Harry might not have been such a good idea.  

He folds his arms, her eyes flicker down. Every movement he makes, she doesn’t want to miss it. Even if she also is telling her mind to shake it off, she can’t. It’s like a spell.

“Obviously Anna is a pseudonym,” he says finally, eyes watching where the boat was taking him. She nods in approval. He pauses, watching the little waves, but she knows he has more to say.

“What did you think of the rest of it?” He asks quietly, gaze never going back to her. He knew she’d teased him a little and had danced along to some. She’d looked at him with wide eyes at some lyrics, but he wanted to know what she really thought.

She can tell he’s nervous, but she doesn’t understand why. They were all very good songs, his voice was beautiful, the lyrics were interesting. She didn’t understand his lack of confidence. His first time not exhibiting his usual self-assured - self-absorbed, even - personality. She bites her lip in confusion and his brows knit together, further showing his apprehension. The wrinkles in his forehead show up more prominently and she’s reminded that Harry is 26. He’s a different person now then he was back when he recorded that demo. Maybe there was a reason he kept them on the boat. She felt unsure in her response now.

“They were all great, Harry.” His face softens immediately. “Each one was beautifully written and sung. The ones that were acoustic sounded wonderful as did the ones with your whole band. I’m honored to be someone who got to hear those masterpieces.”

She wanted to tell them they should be famous songs, but she had a feeling that might not have the effect on him that she wanted. He had chosen a little quiet life in the little border town. She didn’t think he would want to hear how his music could have made it big time.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, just about the sounds of the sea. He lets a closed mouth smile twist onto his face, but it feels like he doesn’t fully believe her. She wants to kiss his worry away, but again, she knows it’s not possible. His words from earlier rang in her head. It would make things weird. Yeah, you’re right. Ugh, why had she agreed. She didn’t agree, not at all, not anymore.

“Did you have a favorite?” He stands up straighter with his question.

She laughs slightly, “I liked the second to last one a lot. It was hot.”

“Hot how?” He steps closer, smirking.

She jumps up from her reclined seat, in indignation, “Oh come on, you know it’s hot. Now you’re just looking for me to stroke your ego! It’s obviously about sex.”

“And? You’re the one who’s saying it’s your favorite and blushing.” He arches a brow at her, arms going to his hips and looking at her teasingly.

“Well, you’re the one who was singing about sucking dick and dreaming of how someone rode you.”

“Is that what it’s about?” His voice raises as he purses his lips and raises both of his brows.

She realizes just how worked up he’s gotten her in such a short amount of time. She huffs and turns away from him with a flick of her hand. “You’re infuriating.” Is all she can say. She looks out at the waves now, ignoring Harry even though he’s less than a foot away.

He’s laughing behind her for a little. Then when she doesn’t turn around, he quiets and she’s not quite sure where he’s gone. Then his breath fans over her neck and right shoulder, where her jacket hasn’t managed to cover her. It’s warm and a little minty as the scent travels over the salty sea air. She doesn’t turn or move a muscle for that matter.

A hand reaches out to her shoulder, but still she makes no move to turn. It rests there for a minute and she simply huffs again, letting her shoulders rise and fall dramatically. A single laugh slips from Harry’s mouth.

“C’mon diavola, don’t be like that. S’all in good fun.” His voice is low in her ear, sultry even. It reminds her of his voice in that song once he got into it. His voice sounds like sex in her ear and this time when she sighs it’s not because she’s irritated with him. No, she wants him. The sigh has an undercurrent of that desire and she hopes Harry doesn’t understand that. But otherwise she stays quiet, letting him murmur into her ear with his hand on her shoulder and his chest pressed to her back now. The only witness of this exchange is the ocean before them.

His head leans closer and if she didn’t know any better it felt like he was about to press a kiss to her neck. Instead all she feels is the brush of his mustache, it tickles the shell of her ear and she can’t keep in the giggle. She twists away from the sensation and Harry is grinning at her when she faces him.

His hand still on her shoulder and his body still pressed close to hers. He’s so warm and so close and so shiny new in her eyes, even if he still manages to irritate her. Her eyes flicker up to his as their laughter quiets down. She realizes her own hands have gone to his waist to steady herself and she follows his feet as he backs them up from the edge of the boat that she had brought them too.

It’s quiet again. They’re staring at each other intently. Her eyes are swirling with emotion because she just wants to know what’s going on in the brain of the man before her. She wants to know everything about him, but she knows that’s not how he feels about her. Sure, they’re friends now, but nothing else.

Why did she have to come on this stupid boat and find his stupid amazing music? Why did he have such a stupid amazing face?

These questions and other silly things were racing around her head as she gripped his waist. He didn’t mind her quietness, he found her gaze to be a little unnerving, but he was just glad he had made her laugh. He found that he didn’t enjoy her anger at him as much anymore.

Just as he was about to start another conversation, there was a cloud that drifted over the shining sun. It was her original fear come to life. Harry’s brows furrowed as he looked up at the clouds. They were turning grey. Fast.

“Shit, shit, shit,” He began mumbling and released his hand from her shoulder. He pulled away from her hold and began moving swiftly around the boat. He needed to get them off the water, there was a storm coming.

Her eyes went wide as she noticed the approaching storm as well. Her brows furrowed with worry as she watched Harry begin working on the boat, his only words being curses to himself at first.

Then he enlists her help, asking her to hold onto a specific part of the boat for him after he threw her a life vest and made her put it on. She wore it with great dissatisfaction. He only shrugged as he continued to move nimbly around the boat, turning them around, back to the dock.  

The boat moved much swifter into the shore than it had on their way out. The waves were growing choppier by the minute and she would admit she was more than a little scared. Thankfully, Harry knew what he was doing and got them there quickly and safely. Once at the dock, he tied them there and then helped her off the boat. She stood on the dock uncomfortably as the rain started to come down.

“Give me your lifevest!” He gestures from the boat.

She quickly takes it off and flinches when the first bout of thunder sounds from far off. He takes it from her and throws it haphazardly down the hatch along with his own before jumping off the boat himself. He surveys the boat from the dock to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. Then he looks at her. She’s wrapped her arms around herself and is ducking her head, looking like she’s attempting to ward off rain but failing miserably.

She looks up at him and he offers a soft smile of reassurance.

“Take my hand!” He shouts slightly over the growing sound of rain and thunder. He wants to get them out of the rain, but he’s also apprehensive to leave his boat to the mercy of the weather. Still, that’s all he can do.

She puts her hand in his and his fingers weave with hers. Then, they’re off racing back to their street in the little border town.

-

“I should go back to my place!”

“Don’t be silly! France is much too far for you to go in this weather!”

She laughs and grips his hand tighter as he fumbles for his key. His wet hand slipping as the rain droplets soak their clothes and skin. Even though her door is a mere few feet away she allows Harry to pull her into his shop. The warmth and dryness appreciated after running a few blocks in the now torrential downpour. There weren’t storms often in the little border town, but like the old adage said ‘when it rained, it poured’ quite literally. The less she had to travel in the rain the happier she was, even if it was three measly feet.

It also occurred to her that she’d be able to sit out her first storm with someone by her side. And she would admit that didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. She wasn’t necessarily a fan of storms and being in a new place with a storm she’d never weathered before was daunting. Harry inviting her in was a blessing. She didn’t have to be asked twice.

Once inside the little shop, their wet frames begin to form puddles beneath themselves. Harry sighs and takes off up his rickety stairs. She looks after him in confusion but stays put when he calls a quick “Wait there!”

She shakes a bit of the rain from her and shivers as she listens for Harry’s movements barely audible above the crashing of the rain water. When he returns, her breath catches in her throat, like she just choked on something, yet there’s nothing.

As he walks down the steps, far slower now, his wet hair shakes out around his head forming some ethereal halo. The light from upstairs illuminates him and the darkness outside casts an ominous darkness as he descends.

“Un ange…” She whispers after finally catching her breath.

If he hears her, it doesn’t matter. He’s already beginning to smile widely just from seeing Y/N before him.

He skips the last step and crosses to her swiftly. “Let’s get you dried a little more,” he begins to dote. A matching smile spreads on Y/N’s face out of appreciation. She still can’t manage to fend off the shivering and Harry’s smile falters. His hands leave the towel and trace her exposed skin. Her cheek feels like ice, only slightly warming under his touch.

“You need dry clothes,” he mumbles.

Her eyes widen as she looks up at him. He’s so close and so attentive and she wants to ask him to kiss her because they’ve been going back and forth all day, but he’s right she’s freezing. His eyes are so intense though she can’t even maintain eye contact. Instead her gaze flits up to the droplet beginning to swell down one of his rogue strands of hair that flopped over his forehead moments ago.

She doesn’t respond as she watches and Harry begins to worry more. Her eyes seemingly unfocused, her shivering, and her silence. He thumbs over the apple of her cheekbone and finally breaks her reverie. The droplet splashing between them without her as its audience.

“C’mon,” he tugs her hand now to bring her upstairs.

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Movement (3/?)

For @peachworthy (The tale continues!) Part 1 here, Part 2 here

Link’s doing his best to tip toe in. It was a long night at the café he’s currently working at and he doesn’t want to wake Rhett. True, his roommate’s hours are strange (to say the least) but it’s always been ingrained in Link to be as respectful as possible.

Mrs. Neal raised her boy to be polite and one of the heights of good manners is not charging into the house you share with someone else in the middle of the night, raising a ruckus.

But as Link edges towards his room, he notices a glow coming from the living room and finds himself unable to not take a peek. Maybe Rhett left the television on?

Yet when he gets closer he sees that while yes, the television is on, it’s not because Rhett forgot about it. Rhett is actually in front of it, but not watching it. Instead his eyes are downcast and…wet.

A light sniffle comes from him and he runs the back of his right hand beneath his nose as if to wipe at it. Link can just barely make out a paper in his left hand when Rhett senses him.

Rhett turns and blinks, folding the paper up and clearing his throat, doing his best to sound amiable even despite the clear note of tears in his voice, “Oh! Hey, man! Didn’t know you were home.”

“Yeah,” Link says softly, “Had to stay late. Boss wanted to do a deep clean on the place after we closed,” he then adds cautiously, “You okay?”

Rhett looks back to his letter than to Link again as if internally debating something. Finally he comes back with, “Yeah. Kinda.”

He holds the letter up, “Got a message from my Momma.”

Link can only offer a sound of acknowledgement, not certain where to go from here. Rhett shifts about on the couch and Link takes it as a signal for him to come over, so he does, sitting across from his friend.

Rhett lowers the letter, but plays around with it, turning the carefully folded rectangle of paper over and over in his hands, “First time I’ve heard from her in a long time.”

“Good?” Link feels stupid and kind of helpless, but he’s trying and this is the only thing he can think to offer. Rhett sniffs again, but his lips twitch as if to smile, as if he recognizes that Link is doing his best, “I suppose. Looks like my brother got married awhile ago. Dad’s alright, stuff like that.”

“I see.”

“They’re still living in the same place. Mom changed jobs, but she likes the new one more. They adopted a dog and-and…” he sighs and just tosses the letter on the nearby coffee table, linking his fingers together to tuck his hands behind his head.

He lets out shaky breath, eyes directing upwards towards the ceiling as if to stave off more potential tears, “They’re fine…”

Link licks his lips, feels awkward and awful, and can only manage to say Rhett’s name before Rhett’s hands lower and he curls in on himself – his tall lanky form growing small as he whispers to the floor, “…totally fine…without me.”

That alone breaks Link. Without a second thought he moves over, draws Rhett close and hugs him tight. The bigger man lets himself be held, lets Link gather him up like a small child and rock him as he silently weeps.

Link murmurs nonsense into his hair for a while, little things like ‘it’s alright’ and ‘it’ll be okay’ and he doesn’t know if he’s doing more harm than good until he feels Rhett’s tense body begin to uncoil, begins to hear his breathing smoothing out.

Once he feels like Rhett’s doing better, he releases him – gets up and finds some tissues, a wet warm washcloth and a glass of water. He offers it all silently to Rhett, who takes it – using the washcloth to wipe his face clean, the tissues to finish up the job. He finishes more than half the glasses of water before he mumbles, “Sorry about that.”

“You ain’t got nothing to be sorry for, bo.” Link doesn’t know where the endearment comes from. He hasn’t used it in ages and just as he’s about to explain it, Rhett lets out a broken bubble of laughter, “‘Bo’? Oh, man…haven’t heard that in an age.”

Link offers an apology but Rhett waves it off, “Nah, Link. I…I like it. I’ll be your ‘bo’.”

And then he turns vulnerable green eyes on him as he asks quietly, “Mean…if you’ll be mine.”

This is, of course, when Link knows his crush is over. It’s over because he’s now completely and totally in love with Rhett and he swallows thickly, even as he nods, “Yeah. Of course.”

“Good.” Rhett nods to himself as if they’ve just made a blood pact or something and he looks at the television which is just showing some random commercials. He gestures to it, “How’s about we watch something, huh? Get our minds on something else.”

By ‘our’ Link recognizes he probably means himself in particular, because Rhett can’t possibly know about the revelation Link’s just had, yet he feels a little too…seen. He bites his bottom lip hard and – even though he knows he shouldn’t – finds himself playing the part of devil’s advocate, “We can – or you can tell me if you plan on writing back.”

Rhett sits up straight, eyes wide, and Link wouldn’t be surprised if the man snaps at him. Link feels like a total jerk – just because he’s realized he’s in love with Rhett doesn’t mean he should hurt him this way, and, he knows that’s the real reason he said what he did. A sort of, ‘please-push-me-away’ move.

But he did anyway and now he braces for an argument, an insult – something. But then, much to his surprise, Rhett says hollowly, “I don’t know.”

Link presses his luck, “Mean, if she wrote you…think it means she misses you…”

Rhett snorts, “Doubt it. Probably just felt a bout of guilt. Thought she should reach out to her black sheep son.”

“Or maybe she wants to hear from you,” Link offers, “Know you’re alright.”

“Yeah and what am I supposed to write?” Rhett grumbles, “‘Hey Ma, I’m doing good. I filmed a three way yesterday – how ‘bout you?’”

“…a three way?” Link repeats, but Rhett continues on as if he didn’t hear him, “It’s not like I can tell her or-or any of them what I’ve been up to. I don’t think many parents like to brag about their kid’s accomplishments when that accomplishment is DPing a woman while making out with a guy at the same time.”

Link wants to ask what ‘DPing’ is, but he thinks he has an idea and it’s probably best not to get too in depth (pun not intended) on that, as he instead takes a different route, “It’s not like you have to tell her about your job. You can just say you’re in LA, you’re healthy, you got a fantastically handsome roommate named Link…”

That makes Rhett laugh, but in a good way, some of his ire easing, “‘Fantastically handsome’, huh?”

Link spreads his hands out, “What can I say? I’m truthful.”

Rhett chuckles some more and shakes his head, “Nah, I mean – sure, I can tell her all that, but if we…if we do reconnect, I’m just-? I’m afraid it’s going to come up.”

“Thought you said you aren’t ashamed of what you do.”

“I’m not,” Rhett affirms, “But she’s my mom. They’re my family. You know that and I know you get why it’s not something I want them to know about…”

“Well, I mean, I could tell you to get another job, but if this is what you like doing-!”

Rhett gets up from the couch and starts pacing, “It’s not that I like doing it. It’s that I’m good at it. And, like I’ve told you – good money, good co-workers,” he sighs and his pacing picks up pace, “I mean, granted, I’m getting on in years and I can’t do this forever and I always did plan on getting out when I, y’know, found someone.”

Someone not you, a thought hisses in Link’s ear and he almost physically swats out at it as Rhett continues, “‘Cause it’s not like I’d want to be in a relationship and do…what I do. It’d feel sorta unfaithful to me, albeit I know some people in the biz who are married and their partners are fine with it, but for me…”

Rhett stops pacing and flops down on the couch, groaning, “…and it’s not even like I can show off. I can’t show someone one of my films with pride and be like ‘look what I did’! Not my folks, not my theoretical other half, not-!”

“Me,” the word leaves Link’s mouth and he’s sort of shocked it left him. Rhett is shocked too, head whipping in his direction at the declaration and Link’s mouth just keeps working on its own, disconnected from his brain, “You…you can show me. If…if you want.”

The last comes out almost silent.

And Rhett just…keeps looking at him.

Link can hear everything. His breath. Rhett’s breath. The ticking of a clock some place. The television show whispering some medical mumbo jumbo. The air conditioning. His heart beat. All of it. He hears it all and then he hears a tentative, “Yeah?”

And Link just nods.

*I swear the next part will have some kind of sex. I know it’s weird that I’ve had 3 parts of a fic now about pornstar!Rhett and no porn but it’s coming. I just…got lost in feels here.

[monkberries]

They dealt with all of the above. Ringo was treated as a joke for pretty much everything, especially since this was the era of prog rock. His personal life was also tabloid fodder. George was derided as being a dour spiritual nut who was out of touch. He along w/ Ringo didn't get the respect he deserved as a guitarist bc his style wasn't in at the time & people knew little about his role in The Beatles. All credit went to Lennon/McCartney. 1/2

John had the benefit of having the rebel genius image, but even he became a source of ridicule with all the stunts he pulled with Yoko and the way his career declined after Imagine. He wasn't deified to the degree he was in the 80s. I'm not trying to say Paul never had a hard time, but the way this fandom talks as if he is the only one who faced extreme criticism or disrespect just tells me they haven't looked much into the other Beatles' lives. The man is more admired than most musicians. 2/2

(IDK if this screenshotted anons were from the same person or not, but I’ll just answer them in this one since it’s all the same subject.)

Here’s what I think is valid, as I see it: Paul fans are upset by the way his music was treated by the music press, especially in the first few years of the 70s, while the music of the other three were generally given at least the benefit of the doubt. They’re not upset about the tabloid gossip, the purely personal stuff – they are upset, specifically and with good reason, at the way Paul’s music was treated and the way the music world’s personal dislike of him seeped into their music reviews. I’m gonna focus in on 1970 through the end of 1974, since this is where a lot of the complaints spawn from, and things start to shift in a big way in 74. You didn’t ask but contemporary writings about their early solo music is something I’m fascinated by anyway and you turned the wind-up toy key in my back, so. Off I go. This is gonna be so, so long.

At different points in the decade, all of them were subject to a sullying of their personal reputations. That is where I do agree with you: all of them were subjected to that by the press, to varying degrees, at varying times, and for various reasons for each of them. That is just what happens to public figures the longer they are public figures. Tabloids mess with everyone no matter how beloved they are. 

However, that’s not what I generally see Paul fans getting upset about. What I see is that they’re upset at the way the much more legitimate and widely respected music press approached Paul’s music and talent in general. It is widely received knowledge now that the critics treated Paul’s music differently than they did John’s and George’s and even Ringo’s; the trashing was not “equal.” They came at John and George with the assumption that their talent was real and ongoing outside of the Beatles, their genius unquestionable, their motives pure and well-intentioned and honest. Paul was not afforded these assumptions. Some examples to show what I mean, most of them found through wikipedia, rocksbackpages, or rollingstone.com.

John

Plastic Ono Band was Robert Christgau’s number one album of 1970 in The Village Voice. from Creem’s review: “John's record, of course, has been righteously raved over ever since its release, justifiably. It's interesting and even enlightening to see a man working out his trauma on black plastic but more than that, it's totally enthralling to see that Lennon has once again unified, to some degree, his life and his music into a truly whole statement.” From High Fidelity’s review: "a tremendously exciting listening experience, perhaps the best any Beatle has ever offered." In their Imagine review, Rolling Stone called POB “perfect.” A couple reviews in the mainstream were more mixed, put off a little by the rawness of it, but overall the rock world quickly grew to see this album as a work of genius.

Imagine was even more widely well-reviewed, despite a mixed review from Rolling Stone (John fell out with Jann Wenner around this time, curiously). Here’s a passage from rateyourmusic.com: “Imagine was actually one of the most critically acclaimed albums of the year, aside from this tepid review in Rolling Stone. Indeed, much of the rock press seemed palpably relieved that the former Beatle hadn't gone completely off the deep end. ‘It's the best album of the year, and for me it's the best album he's done, with anything, or with anyone, at any time,’ Roy Hollingworth wrote in the 10/9/71 issue of Melody Maker. ‘The album is superb,’ Alan Smith agreed in the 9/11/71 issue of NME. ‘Beautiful. One step away from the chill of his recent total self-revelation, and yet a giant leap towards commerciality without compromise...I have no criticism at all.’”

Some Time in New York City was admittedly John’s nadir, and the press was vicious about it, both personally and musically, deeming the album egotistical, lacking in energy, and devoid of sincerity. However, many maintained a reverence for the genius that came before it and hopeful encouragement for the future. Rolling Stone said that “The Lennons should be commended for their daring;” Creem said it wasn’t half bad; and even though NME’s article was scathing, it ended with a plea for John to return to form, saying, “Don't rely on cant and rigidity. Don't alienate. Stimulate. You know, like you used to.”

Mind Games, though reviews were mixed, fared far better in comparison. Again, there is a hopeful tone to the reviews, a sureness that John can do better. From Rolling Stone talks about the music being a return to POB form, but the writing is his worst yet; however, Landau qualifies this by saying the lyrics aren’t “offensive, per se, just misguided... [John Lennon’s admirers] might even be able to withstand something more challenging” and then praises John’s voice, his production, and a few individual songs. In Melody Maker, Ray Coleman says, “if you warm to the rasping voice of Lennon and, like me, regard him as the true fulcrum of much of what came from his old group, then like any new Lennon album, it will be enjoyable and even important.” Christgau is more middling but also says, “Still, the single works, and let's hope he keeps right on stepping.”

Walls and Bridges seems confusing to reviewers in retrospect. They couldn’t seem to come to a consensus on it. The musicianship was widely praised, for the most part, though Rolling Stone criticized the first side on this front; reviewers alternately said it was “the latest chapter in John Lennon’s Identity Crisis” (Creem) and “truly a superb album by any standards” (Melody Maker). Throughout the Rolling Stone review, the author is able to thoroughly critique the songs, for better or worse, with a neutral affect and without resorting to insulting John personally. He ends the review on a positive note: “When one accepts one’s childhood, one’s parenthood and the impermanence which lies between, one can begin to slog along. When John slogs, he makes progress.” Again, even though the reviews aren’t all positive, we can see, especially and most importantly in the most influential rock magazine of the time, the acknowledgment of his talent, a sense of excitement for what John will do next, and a belief that his work is authentic and honest.

George

All Things Must Pass, I mean. Apart from a couple of outliers like Christgau in The Village Voice (he called it “overblown fatuity”), it was incredibly, almost universally beloved by the music press when it came out. There was quite a bit of surprise that such a talent had been under everyone’s noses all this time, but I don’t think anon is quite correct that all the credit for the Beatles went to Lennon/McCartney. For example, Ben Gerson in Rolling Stone recognized George’s talent within the Beatles like this: “Up until now, George has been perhaps the premier studio musician among rock band guitarists. From the electronic whine which began “I Feel Fine” to the break in “Hard Day’s Night” to the crazed, sitar-influenced burst on “Taxman,” George exhibited an avant-garde imagination and a technical flawlessness, as well as the ability to stay within the bounds of a song, which has remained unparalleled.” In Melody Maker, the feeling of journalists was summed up thusly: hearing the album was “the rock equivalent of the shock felt by pre-war moviegoers when Garbo first opened her mouth in a talkie: Garbo talks! – Harrison is free!" The personal nature and honesty of the lyrics were praised as well; Time described it as an “expressive, classically executed personal statement.” Ben Gerson did call his proselytizing offensive, but in the next sentence says that George redeems himself from that with the personal plea in Hear Me Lord.

Concert for Bangla Desh - again, some cynicism from Christgau in The Village Voice (must have woke up on the wrong side of the bed that day) and of course tax issues dogged it later, but overall, for the rock press at the time, this was a crowning achievement that George pulled off. He was praised all over the press, countercultural and mainstream, for his live musical talent, the group of musicians that joined him, the lack of political motivation, the sincerity and goodwill, and George’s ability to bring back  "a brief incandescent revival of all that was best about the Sixties" (Rolling Stone). To this day he is credited with creating the model for future charity concerts. 

Living in the Material World - Nothing could have topped the one-two punch of ATMP and the Concert for Bangla Desh, but honestly, LITMW came pretty close for some journalists. Rolling Stone again praised George’s honesty and authenticity: “ Despite the occasional use of “psychedelic puns,” Harrison’s lyrics are so guileless they convey an extraordinary sincerity that transcends questions of craftsmanship. Similarly, the devotions we are called upon to share with Harrison, though they communicate no specific, private torment, do have the authenticity of overheard prayers and are therefore sacred.” Melody Maker said, "Harrison has always struck me before as simply a writer of very classy pop songs; now he stands as something more than an entertainer. Now he's being honest." The pushback against his pious attitude and lyrics picked up some steam with this album, particularly with Christgau (again) and Tony Tyler of NME, who called it “so damn holy I could scream.” However, it was far from the consensus opinion at the time, and with the biggest rock magazine in the world at your back, you can withstand quite a bit.

Dark Horse, oof. That poor man. It did get some positivity in Billboard and Melody Maker, but my god, the reviews for this album and its subsequent tour were so cruel. I suspect when these anon(s) talk about the others being treated terribly by the press as well, this, along with John’s STINYC, is one of the examples they would give, and they’re not wrong about that. This was the point where George’s piety and what they perceived as a sanctimonious attitude finally started really getting to everyone, and the album plus the tour was the perfect opportunity to dogpile on him. I guess it was to be expected; no one can ride that high forever, and the press loves to knock people over and kick them while they’re down. Rolling Stone called it “disastrous,” “shoddy,” and called his guitar work “rudimentary,” eventually declaring that George had “never been a great artist.” This from the same magazine that was practically worshipping at his feet the year before. Yowch.

Ringo

Sentimental Journey - The less that’s said about this album, the better.

Beaucoups of Blues was actually quite well-received. No one called him a genius for it, and it wasn’t a serious personal record and therefore wasn’t treated that way, but journalists seemed uniquely able to let themselves enjoy this record despite the serious/political/personal tone of most musicians at the time. Melody Maker believed Ringo had  "conviction and charm" and that because of that, the album stripped away the serious “hip posturing” and let you just enjoy the music on its own terms. The Village Voice said that Ringo was “good at making himself felt.” Although Rolling Stone’s tone was a bit more cruel than other magazines (there was a crack somewhere in there that Ringo wasn’t as smart as John), it also called him lovable and the record “a real winner” where the songs “sound terrific.”

Ringo was a total smash and I think people forget this. It’s remembered only because it’s an album that was worked on by all four Beatles, but actually, the critics fuckin loved it. Ringo was praised in Rolling Stone for his unpretentiousness, sensibility, and essentially collaborative nature: “Ringo was always the figure of conciliation within the Beatles, undoubtedly the most genial, conceivably the most sensible, and the one with the smallest musical axe to grind. His very lapses bespoke the esteem in which the others held him; had they not liked him so much, those perfectionists would never have allowed him to sing. Perhaps because as the drummer he stood outside the process of creation, he had the best perspective from which to see the Beatles as a unity. Ringo has never had any pretense of self-sufficiency. Once he had gotten his special projects out of the way (projects for which John, Paul and George's talents would have been unsuited anyway) Ringo was ready to call upon the three most obvious people to assist him with writing, singing and playing. As Starr's first "pop album," Ringo signifies a homecoming, not just of family, but in musical style as well.”

Goodnight Vienna was kind of a minor album for Ringo, but still, reviews were pretty good. Rolling Stone praised his “unalloyed sincerity which is his trademark and trump card.” Yet again, we see the theme of authenticity popping up in these reviews - if you are perceived as authentic, honest, and sincere, that takes you a long way with music reviewers in this time period, and Ringo was nothing if not wholly, completely himself.

Paul

McCartney - One of the main complaints of Paul fans is that Jann Wenner forced Langdon Winner, the author of the review for this album in Rolling Stone, to rewrite his article and put a more negative spin on it. The result is that Winner praised most of the music but totally undermined his own praise by questioning the authenticity of the tone and deriding the press release that came with the album as much as he praised the music. He ends the article like this: “I like McCartney very much. But I remember that the people of Troy also liked that wooden horse they wheeled through their gates until they discovered that it was hollow inside and full of hostile warriors.” This was a huge blow at a time when personal authenticity and substance were considered paramount. Melody Maker also questioned the legitimacy of his genius, saying “With this record, [McCartney's] debt to George Martin becomes increasingly clear.” Most other reviews weren’t any better.

Ram, I mean, Jesus Christ the reviews for this. It’s a widely respected album now, even made the RS top 500 albums of all time list last year, but at the time people were still so angry with Paul for supposedly breaking up the Beatles that they were still taking it out on his music a year later (imo). Landau in Rolling Stone called it “emotionally vacuous” and said it lacked conviction, saying also that it was “so incredibly inconsequential and so monumentally irrelevant you can’t even [hate it]; it is difficult to concentrate on, let alone dislike or even hate.” NME called it “the worst thing Paul McCartney has ever done.” Threaded through these reviews is a belief that the songs are devoid of meaning and that Paul’s happy domestic front is just a frustrating lie; Christgau in The Village Voice said he was “infuriated by the McCartneys' modern young-marrieds image” - infuriated because he clearly doesn’t believe it, rendering Paul dishonest and his music inauthentic. Once again journalists are unable to review Paul’s music without sniping about him as a person.

Wild Life - Though the situation remains largely the same - reviewers refuse to take him seriously, believe anything he says, or treat his musical talent as anything but vacuous fluff - the reviews aren’t quite as bad as they were for Ram and a bit of positivity begins to stir. It’s evident especially in the Rolling Stone review, where Mendelsohn wonders if Paul is making crappy fluff on purpose to piss John off because it will sell just as well anyway. It’s not much, and on top of the fairly strong criticism there is almost no hope for future Paul releases: “My own conviction is that we'd be foolish to expect anything much more earth-shaking than Wild Life out of McCartney for a good long while... In the meantime the reader is advised to either develop a fondness for vacuous but unpretentious pop music or look elsewhere for musical pleasure.” But it’s something.

Red Rose Speedway Paul continues to be lambasted by a lot of the press on this album for being lightweight and having no meaning behind his songs (at this point it’s just repetitive to quote the articles, just trust me that they say basically the same thing they were saying for the past three albums too), BUT I think a nuance that gets forgotten in all of this is that Rolling Stone gave it kind of a decent review. It seems like they finally quit gatekeeping and realized that songs don’t need to have some deep personal meaning to be good. Kaye is still not very nice about Paul’s lyrics but he recognizes that he doesn’t have to take Paul’s music on the same terms as he takes John and George. Paul’s music is less personal, but that doesn’t make it unworthy. He calls it “pleasant, accessible without concentration” and praises Paul’s voice and arranging skills. It feels like for this album, Rolling Stone took the stick out of its own ass when it came to Paul and finally relaxed enough to receive Paul’s music on his terms rather than theirs. Which, imo, primed the rock world for...

Band on the Run, Paul’s comeback. Even though Christgau in The Village Voice remained unconvinced (he called it “a pleasant piece of hackwork”), almost everyone else adored it. It seems weird to us now, but the general sentiment seemed to be that people were surprised by how good this album was. NME said, “The ex-Beatle least likely to re-establish his credibility and lead the field has pulled it off with a positive master-stroke”; and although Landau’s review in Rolling Stone overflowed with praise, he also said, “I'm surprised I like Band on the Run so much more than McCartney's other solo albums because, superficially, it doesn't seem so different from them.” 

I hope I’ve been able to demonstrate a general trajectory with the musical reputation of each Beatle here. John starts off on two incredible high points, crashes and burns, and then works his way back up. He DEFINITELY missed with STINYC, but even when he followed it up with Mind Games, there was still a hopeful tone to the reviews, sort of like, “Ah, well, the last two weren’t great but we’re still looking forward to what John will give us next.” Until the Dark Horse tour/album, which did sour the press on poor George, the music press adored him. It was hit after hit with him. He could not miss. Three high points, one after the other, then a monumental crash. Ringo seems to stay fairly high, even if the records aren’t serious records. All three of them start out incredibly well, and the music press was able and willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Paul was given none of that. Perhaps because he was out of step with the attitudes about music at the time, perhaps because journalists hated him for breaking up the Beatles, perhaps because they believed John when he painted Paul as “establishment,” perhaps a combination - whatever their issue was, Paul was given no benefit of the doubt to start with, no faith in his genius, and no belief in his authenticity. He was just a hack to the music press for the first few years of the 70s; he started at the bottom and was forced to work his way up, unlike the other three. It started, imo, when Wenner forced the journalist who wrote the McCartney review in RS to rewrite the article, and it spiraled from there. He was seen as hollow and uncool, as one of the anons said, “straight” in the parlance of the time - straight meaning “establishment.” This is kind of where I do start to roll my eyes a little bit at stans, when they get upset at people calling him “establishment” and trying to prove that actually he was so anti-establishment that people couldn’t handle it or whatever, without trying to understand what the word “anti-establishment” meant at the time. But there are also really substantive arguments you can make that say Paul’s music was not taken seriously because of a personal grudge against him.

I’m not saying that all of them didn’t have run-ins with the music press. I’m saying there is nuance here that I don’t think these anons are allowing for in the first few years of that decade. They came at George and John and Ringo with a positive, or at least neutral, slant most of the time. They came at Paul with a negative one. Case in point are the reviews of Band on the Run that were surprised at how good it was. That stuff gets people’s hackles up. The others didn’t have positive reviews rewritten to be more negative. The others didn’t have albums savaged that are now on the Rolling Stone top 500 albums of all time list. I do agree that John, at least, and George post Dark Horse, had a harder time with the music press than people generally remember or care to think about – deification is retroactive, I guess, and as Paul fans we should definitely recognize that Paul wasn’t the only one who went through a rough time with the press. But I do think Paul’s situation was made uniquely and unjustifiably difficult for those first few years.

I mean, at the same time, I cannot stress enough how much this did not affect his bottom line. Despite the horrible reviews, Ram still made a ton of money, McCartney made a ton of money, Band on the Run and Wild Life and Red Rose Speedway all made a ton of money. He had a fanbase, a huge one, that followed him loyally and faithfully through the early 70s as he was getting savaged by the press, and through the middle and late 70s when he was touring. At some point, you have to step back and go, wait. Why does any of this matter? This was 50 years ago. He was a multi-millionaire then and is a billionaire now. And you are right; whenever people over-generalize and try to make the case that Paul was always badly reviewed and the others were press darlings, I tend to get annoyed because they’re totally missing the actually interesting nuances of the situation (that can be easily found online! I found most of the music reviews through snippets on Wikipedia!) In conclusion, I guess my point is that both “Paul was vilified while everyone else wasn’t” and “everyone was equally vilified” paint the events of the early 70s with brushes that are too broad and miss the nuance that was evident in the way the press interacted with their music.

[emy-loves-you]

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 15

Sandwiches and Self-Jealousy

Chapter 14 | Masterlist | Chapter 16

Warnings: Jealousy, half-lying, mentions of abandonment issues

Virgil shot up, surprised by Janus slamming the door upstairs. He stared at his phone. What was he supposed to do? He’s been flirting with his 3 crushes as Anxiety, and they don’t know that he’s Anxiety. Virgil sighed, gathering up what courage he had left. Might as well gather intel.

V- (1:10 PM) You’ve been flirting with THE Anxiety?!?

L- (1:10 PM) More like he was flirting with us.

P- (1:11 PM) You know Anxiety, Kiddo?

V- (1:11 PM) Yeah, I’m a fan of his

V- (1:11 PM) Are you sure that he’s flirting? Last I heard he was dating his bandmates

L- (1:12 PM) He said that he was flirting with me, but I don’t think he means it as a romantic gesture. He seemed more interested in my consent than my unavailability.

V- (1:12 PM) Wait, why were you guys okay with each other flirting with strangers?

R- (1:13 PM) We might all have the teensiest tiny crush on him

Virgil felt his cheeks heat up. They all had crushes on Anxiety? What was Virgil supposed to do with that information? Should he ignore it? Or should he try and be more serious with them as Anxiety, to see if he has a chance as a rockstar instead of a faceless friend?

Virgil suddenly felt something stirring in his gut. It took a few moments to recognize the feeling: Jealousy. Virgil had been pining after his crushes for months. He was not losing his chance to a person they’d only known for a week. Sure, that person was also Virgil, but it was the principle of it, Dammit! Virgil thought about it. While it would be easier to date them as Anxiety, he’d much rather date them as Virgil. Maybe I can give myself a leg-up through Anxiety. Virgil thought about it for several more minutes. This could work. Finally smiling, Virgil turned back to his phone.

V- (1:20 PM) Okay, you guys wanna get closer to Anxiety?

V- (1:20 PM) How does VIP tickets to their next concert sound?

R- (1:21 PM) SERIOUSLY?!?

R- (1:21 PM) YES PLEASE!

P- (1:22 PM) You don’t have to, Kiddo!

V- (1:22 PM) The concert’s on February 17th. Consider it a Valentine’s Day gift from me to you guys.

L- (1:22 PM) The concert is in less than 3 weeks. How do you have VIP tickets? Were you intending on using them, Virgil?

V- (1:23 PM) No, I just know a few people

V- (1:23 PM) By the way, where did you find that album, Lo?

L- (1:23 PM) I am at home right now due to nasopharyngitis. A coworker of mine dropped this off as an early birthday present. He said that I might find it useful. I assume that he saw Anxiety visiting me at the library and recognized him.

Virgil sighed. He’d have to pay more attention. He’d dropped his guard down when interacting with them. He didn’t want anyone else recognizing him.

R- (1:25 PM) Well, I must take my leave. I have lunch with Anxiety today, so I will inform him of our situation.

P- (1:25 PM) DON’T TELL HIM ABOUT OUR CRUSH ON HIM!

R- (1:25 PM) I WON’T!

Virgil swore, getting up. He’d completely forgotten about his lunch with Hottie/Roman. He quickly grabbed his stuff before running out the door. He sent a quick text to Janus, telling him that he had left. He speed-walked to the sandwich shop that Roman liked, ordering the same sandwich that Roman ordered every time, as well as one for himself. Before he knew it, he was standing outside of the theatre, sandwiches in hand. He sat there, remembering what he wanted to say to Roman. Roman soon walked out, a nervous yet somewhat awe-struck look on his face.

Flirt Mode: Activated

“Hey, Hottie. Ready for sandwiches and banter?” Anxiety held out the sandwich, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“We need to talk.” Anxiety startled slightly. He knew that Roman wanted to talk to him about his identity, but he didn’t think that he’d be this direct.

“Sure, mind if we sit down? My back is killing me.” They sat down on the sidewalk, uncomfortable silence between them. Anxiety opened his mouth to break the tension. “So-”

“I know you’re Anxiety.” Roman’s voice was soft, softer than Anxiety ever remembered it being. He stared down at the concrete. “And I know that I’m not the only person that you’re flirting with. You’ve actually been flirting with my 2 boyfriends. I just thought you should know that I knew before we continued anything. I don’t want to trick you or lie to you.”

Anxiety felt a wave of guilt overcome him. He shouldn’t be leading them astray like this. But what could he say? Hey, I’m also the guy that’s been texting you for the past 7 months. Hope this doesn’t pressure you into liking me. Anxiety mentally shook his head. No, he couldn’t do that. But he also couldn’t fully lie to them. Maybe some half-lies would make it better?

“I already knew.” Roman’s eyes shot up.

“How? We just figured it out today!”

“Apparently you told my friend too. Unless he made up the exact same story when he asked for the VIP tickets?” There, Virgil can be Anxiety’s friend. Close enough to where it would make sense for Anxiety and Virgil to know things that they shouldn’t, while far enough to draw away suspicion.

Roman’s jaw dropped. “You know Virgil?”

Anxiety nodded, taking a bite out of his sandwich. “Mmhm. He’s a good friend of mine. He sometimes goes on tour with us.”

Before Anxiety could even blink, he suddenly had a face full of Roman. “What’s he like?”

Anxiety stared, dumbfounded. “What?”

Roman huffed, the light never leaving his eyes. “Virgil. What’s he like? I’ve been talking to him for months, but we’ve never met face-to-face. So, what’s he like?”

It took a few moments for Anxiety to talk again. He wanted to know about Virgil? Not the literal rockstar in front of him? “Well, he’s sarcastic, for one (yep). He likes to spend money on people he cares about (you, Logan, Patton). He bounced around the foster system for a while, but I don’t know why (why didn’t anyone want me?). He has really bad anxiety (hence the persona), so he doesn’t go to any of my concerts (not as Virgil). He talks about you a lot (I can’t stop myself. I bring at least one of you up in every conversation I have with J and Re).”

“He does?” He looked so… happy? Hopeful? Unsettled? Virgil couldn’t tell.

“Yeah, he’s always blabbering about what you said that day or what he’s planning on getting you (not a lie). So, now that you know what I think of him, now it’s your time to spill. Who’s Virgil to you?”

Roman suddenly had a strange look on his face. Anxiety couldn’t name the emotion in his eyes. “Virgil is… different. He has such a cynical view of the world, yet he still makes lighthearted puns. He’s doesn’t want to meet us in person, yet he spends so much money on us. He can’t bake for shit, and he sends adorable apology chocolates when he thinks we’re upset. He loves Halloween and Disney. He listens when we need someone to talk to, and he rambles off random facts when we need a distraction. He comforts Patton when he’s sad. He makes Logan laugh after a tiring day, even if Lo plays it off as exasperation. He calms me down when I think that the world’s against me.” He sighed. “I wish he trusted us enough to let us meet him. I respect his wishes, but it’s hard, y’know? Trusting someone that you’ve never met.”

Anxiety felt another wave of guilt, this one even stronger. He opened his mouth before thinking. “I’m sure he’ll open up to you soon.”

“Really?!” Roman looked up, with so much… joy, and hope, and that same emotion that Anxiety couldn’t name. He recognized it somewhere, but he couldn’t remember where.

Anxiety smirked, internally screaming. “Of course. You think I’d lie about something like that? He just needs to build up his confidence first. Once he does, he’ll be dying to meet ya.” His smirk softened to a half-smile. “And from what I’ve seen so far from you, Angel, and Starlight, he won’t be disappointed.” Anxiety checked the time on his phone. “Well, your lunch ends in 2 minutes, and I’ve gotta go. See ya later, Hottie.” And with that, Anxiety stood up and walked away.

Virgil was surprised that his comment about opening up didn’t make him feel guilty. Instead, he felt… relieved? Hopeful? He couldn’t tell. But it felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. I do have to tell them eventually. Might as well promise it. Pressure myself into actually doing it.

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

[ichika27]

TWEWY 04

Week 2!!!

Seeing Joshua on the thumbnail made me giddy lol. Week 2 is my favorite in the game. Also, I have feelings right now so I’ll be making this post as I watch the show haha.

I’m still not that used to the fact that they’re using smartphones now instead of flip phones.

Spoilers for the game ahead!

Did Minamimoto do this in the game? I don’t remember. He uses his megaphone to yell out the mission (still sent everyone the text though).

Joshua!! Joshua is finally here!! I waited so long to see you animated and voiced. It’s Joshua... my boy is here! Yes, I will fangirl over him for the entirety of his Week.

Their partner pact is so cute lol. I’m a nekujosh/joshneku fangirl. Have been since I played the game years ago so uh... yeah.

Joshua is introduced and says some strange things the way he does, of course. Since they changed game mechanics to fit the anime (scanning requires you to touch the person instead of just tapping the player pin), Neku has gotten some... flashbacks when he touched Joshua.

Hehe It’s starting...

Sota and Nao! They’re players now. I wonder if this meant they’d get more significance than poor Makoto did.

Minamimoto appears... in front of our main characters! On his junk pile... haha I remember those piles in the game. He starts shouting in math puns calling them zetta slow lol. The Minamimoto fans are probably happy right now.

He also seem to have recognized Neku and Joshua (hinting it with the change in attitude/expression when he noticed who he was talking to). I guess the anime is trying to foreshadow stuff again.

They’re showing us other players. That’s a nice touch. You don’t really see them be featured in the game. Like, you know there are other players clearing walls and stuff but you don’t really get to meet them unless they’d have something to do with the plot so this is a nice touch.

Also, Minamimoto just sent out some noise to attack them even though they have completed the mission. What a jerk lol

They’re really trying to up the brutality in the anime, huh? The first episode featured an erased player who suddenly turned into bubbles and disappeared immediately after being attacked but this time, they’re gonna make the erasure time slow by showing us how bad this is haha. I don’t hate it though.

Minamimoto immediately gives them a new mission which is basically battle royale - destroy other players. Neku saves the others from noise attacks and reminds them to trust their partners. Total shounen protag right there lol. Sadly, it doesn’t work for everyone and so some of the players are fighting each other. Minamimoto then gives them the orders to fight kariya and Uzuki giving the reapers a reason to attack them back.

I guess this is a faster way to decrease the player count right away. This way, the anime can just focus on the important characters.

They’re both levitating! Haha I thought this was just a Joshua thing. They used a very powerful attack (fire and ice, I guess) that destroys all the noise. They’re already showing off Joshua’s strength on Day 1.

The audience is finally given a part 2 game tutorial! Joshua explains about the routes and the reaper decals. Of course, it seems it’d make no sense in the anime about why the players are even allowed to shop since they don’t really use all the game mechanics here. No sidequests to do and they don’t really incorporate the “brands you use and food you eat raises your stats” thing. Still, it’s good they introduced this to new fans.

Oh yeah, since there’s no Tin PIn in the anime, they’re not gonna do the gold pin mission. Sad... Joshua likes Tin Pin.

Aww they’re working together now! They’re using their special skills again to fight some powerful noise. Also... taboo noise already?

Minamimoto watches as the duo fight the strange noise. I’m wondering if they’d also show that Kariya has suspicions on what Joshua might be?

I’m glad Eri is getting screentime but man, it’s sad. She buys flowers and visits Shiki’s grave everyday. I’m glad she gains more significance and while she’s still Shiki’s friend, she shows a bit more personality with the scenes given to her.

Neku apologizes to Eri regarding what happened to Shiki (no reaper decal on the flower shop so he’s invisible). He soon realizes he has no idea how he dies.

They’re making Joshua look more suspicious than in the game. He’s kinda being strange and cryptic in the game but here, they’re kinda hinting that he’s sinister. I know they wanna finish this up quickly but this might change how people who only watched the anime see Joshua. I’m curious how this’d affect what he would do at the end of Week 2.

Flashback again! So Neku doesn’t die of being shot in the head in the anime. I guess that’s probably too much for the anime, huh? He bleeds to death due to his wound here. In the game it seems he dies immediately after being shot. I dunno which death is worse.

Reaper Beat! I was wondering if he’d show up in today’s episode. No Rhyme noise yet...

--

I was unable to get a screenshot of it (I didn’t even know if all these would fit caise tumblr gives me errors when I have too many pictures) but Kariya and Uzuki had a talk earlier where Uzuki mentions having only been a reaper for 2 years and Kariya says he’s seen the game go past just 1 week before but it was a long time ago hinting that he’s been a reaper for far longer. Little ways the anime gives infos on how this all works.

I have some things I didn’t like but I guess that’s what happens with compressed adaptations. I’m happy Joshua is here though. They captured his “pretty boy” looks in the anime. Since this is gonna be dealt with fast, I guess there might be less joshneku/nekujosh moments since they’re already trying to make Joshua seem too untrustworthy. Ugh that hurts my shipper heart but I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything in the first place.

I’m excited for the next episode though. More Joshua! lol

Also, next episode is CAT so I guess they’d give some screentime to Mr. Hanekoma. I hope they animate the part where Neku finds out who Hanekoma is haha. Please. They already took away Tin Pin for Joshua so at least give Neku something to fanboy about.

Alright, til next week’s episode! Not sure if I’d do this “make a post as I watch” again or just collect screenshots and then make a post afterwards but I guess depends on what will happen next episode. A lot happened today and I didn’t know if I could remember all my thoughts after watching the episode.

[lokislytherin]

euphoria // vampire!jungkook

pairing: vampire!jeon jeongguk x human!reader summary: you’re scared of vampires - until one saves your life one night. word count: 1988 + 1808 + 2373 + 1798 + 

chapters: prologue / chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / epilogue

Seokjin takes a deep breath.  "Y/N," he says, his voice icy cold, "just what exactly is going on?" The phone in his hands morphs into a medieval sword, the blade gleaming pink just like his phone case.  You're too busy gawking to respond.  Seokjin just performed an act of magic in front of you! Your roommate is a witch!

And then it finally sinks in - your roommate is a witch.

You've been sharing an apartment with a witch for well over a year, and you've only just found out.

Jeongguk frantically works to detach himself from you, wanting to wipe the blood on his mouth with a sleeve until he realizes his sleeves are also covered in blood.  He settles for licking most of it away, but there's still a drop of blood on his chin.  "I can explain-"

Seokjin glowers down at Jeongguk.  His glare is absolutely frigid, and if your cheeks were hot before, whatever heat there was is now gone.  "Is your name Y/N?"

"No," mumbles Jeongguk like a chastised child.

Angry Seokjin does tend to have this kind of effect on people.

"Yeah, I didn't think so either," the witch grumbles with a scowl.

He turns to you, and you wince in preparation for what's to come.  He attacks you with a barrage of questions.  "Y/N, how long have you been harboring this vampire? What made you think it was okay to associate yourself with him? Why did you let him suck your blood like that? He could've killed you, don't you realize that?" He sighs, squeezing the bridge of his nose.  "See, this is exactly why I strengthened the wards.  I knew there was a bloodsucker that kept hanging around this place, but goddammit, Y/N, you were the one who kept letting him in!" He sounds frustrated, almost disappointed in you.

"He's my friend," you retort hotly, "he saved my life! Remember when I got home really late one night a month ago? That's because I almost got molested by some creepy old dude, and he helped me! He needed help just now, and what was I to do, push him away? He was dying!"

Seokjin sniffs haughtily.  "He doesn't look that dead to me.  Besides, he's a vampire.  He's already dead."

Jeongguk raises a hand.  "Technically, I'm undead? My heart doesn't beat, but I still need to eat and breathe and poop and everything," he adds in an attempt to be helpful, only to be met with a small sneer from Seokjin.  Neither of you are willing to back down.'

"You never told me you were a witch either," you say bitterly.  "You know who I had to hear that from?" You poke Jeongguk's arm.  "Him.  Do you think it's okay for you to keep your secrets from me but not for me to keep mine from you? Why do you even care how I live my life?"

Seokjin groans.  "I'm trying to keep you safe, Y/N! You're my friend, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you!"

"I'm almost eighteen, Jin! I'm old enough to fend for myself and deal with my own crap!" You're almost yelling at him, and you would've felt guilty if you weren't so angry.

Jeongguk's eyes go wide.  "Wait, Jin? Like Kim Seokjin Jin?"

doesn't look angry anymore, just plain tired.  "Am I supposed to know y-"

He squints.  "Jeon Jeongguk? Is that you?" He fumbles around for his glasses, only to realize he'd left them in his room.  

Jeongguk looks delighted.  "Yeah, that's me!" You can't help but feel a little out of place.  "You remember me?"

You shake your head.  This has been one of the most chaotic nights you have ever witnessed in your whole life, and you've had a lot of sleepovers with chaotic friends.  "What is going on?"

Jeongguk smiles shyly.  "Seokjin is a friend of mine, actually.  Or was.  I haven't seen him in person for a really long time."

Seokjin ruffles his hair playfully.  "You've grown so much, I almost didn't recognize you! I'm still taller, and you look exactly the same as you were when we were kids." He turns to you.  "I used to be neighbors with this brat," he says, "he and Tae were the most annoying squirts ever, but we moved to another district." He turns back to Jeongguk.  "If it makes you feel any better, he cried on the first night because you weren't there."

Jeongguk pouts, and your heart flutters.  "Aw, I hate it when he cries." He stands up, pouting some more when he confirms for himself that Jin is in fact taller.  He really is cute when he pouts.

“What happened to you?” Seokjin asks curiously.  “How’d you-” he waves his arms around, “-get turned?”

You turn to the young vampire, equally curious.  Every time you've brought up the subject in the past, he'd started to look shifty, evading your questions before changing the subject entirely.  You're interested to see how Seokjin fares.

Jeongguk starts to fidget, trying to use the same tactics to dodge the older man's question.  "It's kind of a long story-"

"It’s two AM," you pipe in, “you’ve actually got a few hours before daylight if that affects you. Besides, I don’t think I could sleep."

Jeongguk sighs, somehow managing to look beautiful and sad at the same time, like some kind of tragic pensive prince from a fairy-tale.  "Are you sure you want to hear?"

You nod reassuringly.  "It's okay, Jeonggukkie, you can tell me anything." You're not sure where the nickname came from, but it's cute and it fits him, so you continue.  "Besides, we had a bonding session! I cradled you in my arms!" You're not lying - Jeongguk had almost died in them too.  Well, died a little more than he already had, that is.

Jeongguk grins, the tip of his lips quirking up teasingly.  “Now, why can’t I seem to recall that? Surely I’d remember a pretty girl cradling me in her arms?”

This elicits a fierce blush from you, and you whack him in your attempt to cover it.  “Because you were unconscious, you idiot! You blacked out on me! You almost gave me a heart attack; did you know that?”

The vampire laughs, draping an arm around your shoulders.  “At least I’m your idiot.”

Seokjin doesn’t even bother to mask his discomfort, wrinkling his nose in what you can only class as mild disgust.  “That was so cheesy, JK.  Stop flirting with Y/N and explain.”

You laugh at his haughty expression.  "Maybe you're just jealous that you're almost thirty and still single." As much as you love him and support his relationships, making fun of his lack of relationships is much more fun.

"I'm being bullied," Seokjin mutters under his breath with a petulant scowl.  "Anyway, Jeongguk, please tell us your story.  We're all dying to know." Jeongguk raises an eyebrow.  "You know me, Jeongguk.  I'm not going to tell you the pun wasn't intended."

You snort, already well accustomed to your roommate’s badly timed dad jokes.  One of your friends from school also has quite the penchant for puns, and you’re not sure if facing her jokes are better or worse.  Allowing them to meet would be a disaster in the making.

"Anyway, Jeongguk, you can tell us.  If the vampire who turned you is dangerous and tries to attack you again for whatever reason, I'd protect you," you tell him earnestly.  "I don't have magic or super strength or good night vision, but I still learned to kick-box.  I punched a pervert in the face.  I'm not useless."

The vampire smirks, flexing.  You kind of wish he would strangle you with his thick, muscled thighs.  "Shouldn't I be the one protecting you? I'm the hot undead guy, you're the pretty damsel in distress, and clearly, Jin is the comic relief friend who's probably going to die first.  Besides, I rescued you from that pervert when he started chasing you." "You killed him because you were thirsty," you retort.

"What can I say?" Jeongguk has the decency to look sheepish.  "I'm not me when I'm hungry.  It's a vampire thing."

Seokjin points his phone-sword at Jeongguk threateningly.  "One more insult, brat, and you'll live the rest of your days as a disgusting undead spider instead.  I'm a witch, I'm legally allowed to do that."

Jeongguk raises an eyebrow.  "Last time I checked, transformation of objects wasn't your affinity."

Seokjin turns red, almost purple.  "I've gotten better at it, though.  I can and I will turn you into a spider that I can squish under my foot."

He turns his sword into a magic staff instead, and Jeongguk makes an "eep" sound when Jin pretends to form an incantation.  "Don't turn me into a spider," he says, "I like this human form."

"I like this form too," you say, subconsciously snuggling closer to his biceps, "I don't want you to turn into a spider."

You're a thirsty hoe, Jin mouths at you.  You can't deny it.

"I'd be the best looking spider you've ever seen," Jeongguk says seriously.  "Better than Jin."

Jin splutters, too well accustomed to being dubbed the 'handsome one' to hear Jeongguk saying "I'd be a better looking spider than you".  "Hey! JK!"

"I have arachnophobia," you deadpan.  "If you turned into a spider I'd scream and run away."

Jeongguk pouts.  "Aw."

"Anyway, story or spider, JK," says Jin menacingly.  His expression isn't very scary, but Jeongguk still gulps, well aware of the threat.  Jin will bark and bite in equal measures.  "Stop stalling."

Jeongguk scowls and makes a face.  "I'm getting to it, you impatient hag."

Jin cracks the staff down on Jeongguk's head, hard enough to hurt but not enough to injure.  "Don't call me a hag, you brat!"

Jeongguk whimpers, clutching his head and leaning towards you.  "Jin's a big meanie."

You laugh at their brotherly squabbling, petting the vampire's head absentmindedly (if you'd told your past self you'd be petting a vampire's head, your past self would've never believed it).  "We can kick him out later," you say, "but for now, let's listen to you, yeah?"

He nods.

[kanene-yaaay-o-retorno]

The Colors of my Soul(mates) [1]

[Second oneshot]

[AO3 link]

Kanene’s Notes:

Nope, I do not regret the pun. Okay, okay! I’ve plaining this AU for almost an year so I’m pretty excited to post it!! dfghjsdfrtyucfvgbhjv yaaaay!! Thank you very very much @olliedollie1204 for such a positive feedback and awesome ideas. it helped me a lot!! 

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic has Virgil, Logan, Patton and Roman (only a brief mention of Remy) in a platonic relationship (yet), but it can be viewed as romantic, if you wish. 

* Warnings: A bit of swearing and depreciative thoughts. It’s mostly fluff and hurt/comfort, tho.

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing Thomas Sanders in his series of Sanders Sides.

* Something around 4.500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Say to someone important how much you love them, be safe, talk with the one that you love, drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

                           [~*~]

What can do a creature if not, between creatures, love?  - Carlos Drummond de Andrade

  - What the fu-

 Virgil only discovered he had more than one Soulmate when he was twenty years old, more specifically the exact moment he took a wrong turn and kept going even knowing he was in the wrong way because one hour it would lead him to somewhere Virgil would recognize before his mortal being inevitably starved to death in the middle of nowhere and his eyes got dragged from the visions from thousands of futures created by his mind to a Teddy Bear Store - they seemed to replicate worse than bacteria during Valentine’s Day - and two bears from the crimson shelter suddenly dyed themselves in two milliseconds as he slightly glanced at them.

 Two of them. Virgil felt his entire face burn in hot shades of embarrassment with drops of disbelief, almost as if all the people running, stumbling, locked in their own worlds and swearing while walked in the sideway because ‘some stupid teenager decided to just stop and block their way’ could, by only looking at him, stare deep into his soul and realize the one staring astonished the store already carried in his fate another one more Soulmate at home.

One completely different in shape and form, even if also blue, however in a light, sky blue completely opposite shade from the new navy one staring him down - Virgil knew plentily their link wasn’t bonded yet, albeit he was equally sure that the person behind those black glooming teddy bear’s eyes were already judging him, - wondering why, between all the people, he was their soulmate. The other red one was very much likely crackling in his face when an employee came and pointedly turn the adult’s attention to the sign in big, graphed words clued in front of their store:

 “You dye, you buy.”

 Virgil signed, pushing his hoodie down further, wondering how much time it would take of him hitting his head on the wall to finally pass out. This option sounded much more attractive when he realized that this new ‘discovery’ about himself would cost all his month’s saves.

 He asked, to the Universe, the stars, the Earth and whoever was seeing him in that exact moment: why?

 Was it a kind of prank? A punishment from fate when, years and tears ago, Virgil lifted his chin up and dared the Universe to give him more soulmates as he locked all his uncolored – although never really free of some weak drops of paint from what one day they came to be – simply stuffed animals, - and nothing more, anymore, - away and promised he would never, ever allow himself to go all through this shit again?

 But… That had been… years ago. Almost a decade since that soft voice he got to know so well, the impulsive acts, long conversations and warm feelings.

 But…

 Time has passed, that is true. Nevertheless, deep down has he really changed?

 Virgil stared at the bag carried so close to his chest since his bare hands were sweating and shaking way too much for this task. Yes, he knew his Soulmates won’t feel anything until both of them decided to ‘give the First Step’, accepting to link their souls and fates, for the longest as it lasts. However, he didn’t want to risk it, because what if they felt? What if he in some way broke the Soulmate System when got two at the same time and now everything was messed up and they could already feel his touches even through the bag and the first impression Virgil would gave to them was ‘That anxious, weird boy and his creepy, sweaty hands’ and-

 A girl almost hit him as she passed running at his side, making his arms protectively hug further the teddy bears closer to him, arms protectively involving them, the soft touch somehow calming his tumulted thoughts. The lost man took a deep breath.

 Clear your mind. Rational thoughts. Focus on the two sides of the coin. Three people wouldn’t be able to break a millennial, unknown system, don’t matter how good he was in screwin… No, a voice that sounded suspiciously a lot like his psychologist calmly pointed, not like that. Virgil huffed, trying again. He was a magnet of problems and bad…Okay, also wrong. Neutral thoughts, focus on neutral thoughts. Come on. Come on.

 It was okay.

 They wouldn’t feel him until they gave the first step. Right, that… sounded like a start. He didn’t do anything. Now, what Virgil needed to do was go to his house, clean his bed in order to find a good place where he could put and ignore them and then he would get his headphones, listen his playlists and wonder where the fuck his life was going.

 It was okay. Everything would stay okay as long as he didn’t give the First Step.

 Virgil unconsciously hugged tighter the teddy bears, his fingers finding way and drowning themselves in the soft, cozy fur, combing them in light, soothing touches as he continued his way.

 Okay. Everything was okay.

 [~*~]

 Plurinfanto, or Multiple Souls, it’s the nomination used for the cases when a person has diverse soulmates at the same time and in a same period.

 The first known case was with Pharaoh Cleopatra when multiples of her woolen fabric started to dye themselves in various colors and shades. In Ancient Roman, it was believed that the occurrences were blessings from Venus in a sign of prosperity and abundance. Grand, longstanding parties were executed through days nonstop in order to get together those intertwined souls. When the connection broke and the colors disappeared, it meant that days of pain and foreboding were waiting forward.

 It is not known for certain the exact moment when the meaning changed, albeit researchers believe it was around the fall of the Roman Empire, when all the invasions resulted in a cultural reconstruction which led to the loss from much of their costumes.

  CLICK HERE TO DISCOVER HOW TO HAVE THE SOULMATE OF YOUR DREAMS!!!!  

 [~*~]

 The computer made a soft ‘click’ as Virgil closed it and sat on his bed, adjusting slightly his position to stare the three vivid, brilliant stuffed beings contrasting to the general dark theme of his room.

 Virgil growled, resting his back on the cold wall, the shivers calming his flowing thoughts about all the variants this whole thing had. No to mention that people change with time, leading to the souls who they “relate” to change as well, meaning that you can have someone in your life for years and then, one month, or weeks or the next day, you can wake up only to discover you and the said person don’t “match” anymore.

 And NO ONE talked about this just because it was a freak tabu to doesn’t have ‘an only one soulmate who will be with you until the end of your existence’. Oh, for fuck sake. Virgil ran his hand through his hair, wincing when he accidently pulled some tangled strands. That sounds like a line of commercial, does anyone believe that bullshit for real?

 “Hello dear, newer fellow!!” The popping thought broke his line of reasoning, jumping excitedly in his mind and automatically pulling him out of his wanders. It has a strong and full of… about everything, tune demanding attention. Virgil felt a warm kiss on his forehead, meaning one soulmate – a deep part of him turned his attention to the red colored teddy bear, - had given the First Step. The one who in some moment changed his position so now he was sitting on the floor felt his face get hot again, heart thumping strongly in his chest as his arm moved, fingers stopping inches away from the fur, questioning if he was ready to retribute the gesture.

  [~*~]

 Many history icons have reports of being Pluriers, as shown in the book ‘The Romance in the History of Those Who Wrote It’, by historian Henry Senyura. The subject is also beginning to gain more visibility after the protest from the teacher Joan A. in 2010, who got touched towards the situation of some of her pupils being forced to choose only one among their Soulmates for the six-month annual exchange, by the end of that period most of them lost or weakened their bonding due lack of communication, small changes of personality and continuous absence. She held a protest at the front of the school, stating that no one had the right to interfere in ‘matters of the heart’.

 A lot of fiction works are beginning to address the topic more frequently, as in I’m Not One, a movie directed by Devon Stan; The Seven Colors of Rainbow, a book written by Lílian Lee and the psychological analysis Life’s Watch, recently found between drafts by the famous writer Robin Green, published after their husband’s authorization, Josué Green.

 [~*~]

 Logan hummed. As it seems, this was a relatively common thing, since the concept of Soul Mates surpassed the barriers of unity and time, being ‘souls who in a way or other intertwined themselves in some part of their life. Sometimes it didn’t necessarily mean a romantic relationship, as the majority of society and media pointed, but it also didn’t hold any assurance that all of them were platonic.

 He massaged the bridge of his nose. Remy wasn’t in the dorm so everything was silent enough for him to hear his own thoughts.

  It has been a remarkable amount of years since he got his last soulmates, - except for Remy, however they both considered this occurrence as a separate incident - well, until, of course, this day. At least it was a good thing he always carried in his bag extra easy manageable stuffed animals or else maybe the System would dye one of clothes, what would be less than ideal for him in the middle of his philosophy debate. But things got even more interesting when, after his classes, as he arrived at the small, pleasantly well-organized store next to his university, one more stuffed animal colored itself right before him.

 He didn’t exactly understand why. Logan considered himself an owner of a… quite strong, strict personality, this added with his difficulty in managing his and one another emotions usually tended to bring some complex tribulations in his rela-

 Anyway, that is beside the important matter. The one laying his chin on his crossed fingers undid his pose for a bite of time in order to adjust his glasses, barely fixating his gaze on the two plushies in the desk before him, his third – Pat - resting a few centimeters away, closer to Logan’s fingers, who were barely touching. Mind running. Asking, reflecting, wondering what was the exact amount of time to be acceptable to give his First Step?

 ‘The First Step’.

 Logan never really understood from where and how that expression emerged. It didn’t come from the words’ etymology nor some semantic detour. His most concrete hypothesis consisted of the phrase being derived from old romances.

 “Did you know it used to be called the ‘First Kiss’?! But that confused a lot of people who really believed that, to be able to talk and interact with their soulmates they would have to kiss each other, like the Sleeping Beauty! I always got confused in this movie when I was a child, by the way! That ended up messing with a bunch of relationships before they even started, since a lot of peeps don’t feel comfortable enough with strangers kissing them. However, they also speeded up a bunch of them as well…” Logan blinked, his attention escaping from his previous thoughts to the light sky blue plushie of Baby Yoda, for a moment surprised with the sudden input. He felt fingers carefully holding his arms and a bit of ghost movements as Pat probably moved his representation to somewhere else, a hug and warmth engulfing the one yet absolving the new information moments later.

 “That was… enlightening.” His voice danced across the room. Even though he was completely aware they could chat telepathically, the childish act of saying the words out loud still comforted him, in a way. “Thank you for your contribution.”

 He took a deep breath and closed the tab of research on his cellphone, internally thanking from the escaping of his turmoil of thoughts, his free hand carefully combing the Baby Yoda’s head fur, almost methodic.

 “Looo, no!” The other protested with no heat in his tune, leading a toothless smile to resurface in Logan’s features. “Stop doing this. You know I end up sleeping every time!”

 “Oh no, what a tragedy.” He deadpanned, already plugging his phones and changing to a most relaxed position on his chair, his eyes traveling across the countless movies on the device before him. “In which episode did we stop?”

 “I’m going to fight you.” Pat sounded like he was pouting.

 “How so?” Logan asked, trying to hide his amusement.

 Silence followed his words.

 “Pat?”

 “What is the skeleton’s favorite instrument?”

 “Pat, don’t you fucking da-”

 “Language! It’s a xiloBONE!”

 Logan audible growled, fast in his final decision. “I’m going to drop you out the window.”

  “I’m going to hug you!” And immediately the one rolling his eyes felt himself being squished in a strong bear hug, huffing only half annoyed.

 “You are an incorrigible heathen, let me go in this exact instant.” His answer was a ‘butterfly kiss’ – as Pat was fond in calling them – on his forehead. “Urg, affection.” Yet he smiled and mirrored the act, lightly poking the other’s side.

 “We’re on episode 19.”

  [~*~]  

Roman stared the paper, his pencil’s tip stopped in the middle of the biggest petal’s flower, his eyes narrowing in the hope of a clearest way of how to convert the vague idea he had in transforming the night full of stars in a flower. No to tell he also would need to choose a good pallet of colors indication for it, later, and probably re-do all the process over and over and over until got the best result as possible. A yawn found its way from his lips and the designer stretched, getting up to drink a bit of water and rubbing his eyes, wondering if it was really worth it to make a black tea to help him through the night.

 A glimpse of color caught his attention. The navy blue teddy bear on his couch, the main inspiration of his newest tattoo. Roman wondered why it wasn’t resting in front of him while he drew. A corner of his brain, obscured by the tiredness, telling he had a previous good reason for this choice although his actual self carried absolutely no idea of why.

 Well, if he couldn’t remember it, it means the reason wasn’t THAT good, right?

 Roman held the stuffed animal, spinning with it across the room for a couple of minutes, imagining who would be the person behind it. A king, a queen, a non-binary royalty? Did they like Disney? Musicals? Sing? Would they chat for hours at first with a few words exchanged or would they take a bit to warm at each other? Was navy blue their favorite color or…

 Or…

 Navy blue.

 Oh.

 He fixed his glare on the plushie, his hands feeling and slowly drawing in the soft fur of it.

 Navy blue, huh? A humorless chuckled flew in the air. It could have no significance, it could be a world of it. It probably didn’t mean what he, for a moment, a so silly, stupid moment, wished it meant. Of course, one day this would happen, right? It was something normal, something expected. Not the magical, right out of the story books or his old daydreams, occurrence.

 This wasn’t a second chance. The Universe doesn’t give you second chances. He wasn’t the same boy from eleven years ago, holding his own costumed teddy bear crying his eyes out, hugging he – No, it – the closest as possible, wishing with all his heart and soul for the color, the voice, the thoughts, the rambling, their bickering, the forgiveness to come back again.

 No, he grew up. He moved on. He got better.

 Then why did a part of him still felt this way? Like he was about to hear the excited giggles, the soft reprimand, that lovely, deep and so truly -and sometimes boring, Roman had to admit – questions? Why would a part of him still say that he could have it all again if he just… waited long enough, hoped high enough, dreamed long enough…

 …If he was enough.

There aren’t more than seven billion colors in the world. Roman would be stupid if he really believed there was a path where he wouldn’t stumble in that so (un)fortunate well-known shade of blue again.

 Roman growled, his forehead making a loud, dry thumping sound as hit his desk. The one who should be asleep hours ago had absolutely no energy to battle against those thoughts, again. At least for now. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the teddy bear laid on the cold tabletop before him. Well, what a better way to get rid of your own means thoughts than put some stranger’s unpredictable thoughts in the middle of it? Roman slightly pushed the bunch of flowers and some warmup sketches he had out of the way, carefully carrying the representation next to him, nodding. Honestly, that was the best idea he had for a while, why did he even put the lovely thing away?

 Awake Roman was so silly, thinking that… something he couldn’t quite recall right now would be a bad idea, he pointed as snorted softly, pressing his lips on the teddy’s forehead, the quote he knew by heart flying from them in a natural flow.

 “It is not immortal, since it’s flame. But let it be infinite while it lasts.”

 A warm sensation rested on his own forehead moments later, leading the sleepy form to hum happily.

 “Is it… poetry?” Oh shit, Roman widened his eyes. His soulmate heard that?? Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Roman mentally facepalmed himself. So that was why he usually said it before the First Step!

 “Uhh, yeah. Of course. Fidelity Sonnet by Vinícius Moraes.”

 “I see. Classicism, I presume. A literature of very soundly pleasant rhymes, indeed. The first sonnet was probably created by the humanist Italian poet Francesco Petrarca, although it got even more known in the western literature after the works of Camões, who- ”

 “He is from Modernism, actually.” Roman didn’t know why he suddenly sounded so defensive. Logan felt a cold feeling run his body when the other’s hands let go of him, for a piece of second wondering if it was supposed for him to do the same with the red narwhal plushie on his hold.

 “A very common mistake to make due the lack of context.” He retorted, unable to formulate another answer. He had, of course, thought, balanced options and chosen the best topics to discuss with his new soulmates when they bonded. However, his fingers firmly gripped the pen, its tip tapping on the first topic written in the notebook partially forgotten in front of him, the poetry figuratively threw him out of his tracks, leading the decision to be the most impartial as possible due his… not so impartial past memories with that specific shade of red an even more difficult task than it already was.

 “Yes. Sure. Sorry, I- I’m just… very tired right now.”

 “You should go sleep, then.”

 The other snorted with the direct, immediate response. “I should, shouldn’t I? Gotta work, though.”

 Some part of Logan’s brain registered the new fact, separating and keeping it in a special place so he would remember to write it down in the new folder he bought, later.

 “I see.” … poetry? That wasn’t a hard topic to talk about. The one now nervously cleaning the very clear lenses twisted his mouth. He could talk about this for hours. No, correction: he already had previously talked about this for hours non stop.

 Logan strangely felt the urge to rub his face and scream. It has been years, - eleven years and 10 months to be precise – and exactly eight years since the one wearing glasses learned poetry because of him. Because of his constant habit of reciting Shakespeare before they would go to bed, until Logan brought himself to research and decorate all the poems he could muster, taking the task to now wake Prince – the name still carried a strong taste in his tongue – in the same way every single day. Before they realize, that becomes something between them. There were times when both didn’t talk, content in only reciting some verses and hear the other complete them. A part of Logan, that illogical and unfortunately full of feelings one wondered how their rap battles would be if they found each other right now.

 Did Prince even maintain his liking the same things he one day did? Does he still recite poetry? Does he maintain the same dreams? The same habits?  Does he even remember about him?

 Highly improbable.

 “You can call me Lo.”

 Roman slowly blinked, getting out the fog surrounding his brain to realize he was mindless staring at the pan’s boiling water, surprised the other still there. Well, it seems like he hasn't screwed terribly everything yet.

 “Lo? Like Lowrance?”

 “Even though my name does contain ‘Lo’ in it, no. It’s ‘Lo’ like Logic. I came to believe it’s a good idea the nomination after a predominant characteristic, since we can’t actively exchange our real names through the Soulmate System.”

 Roman’s breath hitched, a memory with yellow-ish edges and nostalgic smell unrolling in front of him.

 …

 ‘I think we should choose you a name with more personality in it, ya know?’ He threw himself on his bed, kicking his legs on the air before immediately scoping the plushie and laying it on his stomach. ‘Like a characteristic!’

 ‘I don’t see what is wrong with the nickname I choose.’

 ‘No, no! There is nothing wrong with it! But that could be something just between us!’ Then he gasped, picturing that, if he was inside a movie there would be a lamp shining right above his hair in this moment. ‘We could call you Ro!! You wanted to be a robot, right?’

 His soulmate growled and Roman felt a few pokes on his arm, the verbal protest doesn’t taking long before accompanying it. ‘I was three years old!’

 ‘And I’m never letting you live this down.’ He beamed, both knowing the annoyed scoff he got as response held no real heat. ‘Besides, we could even match our names!!’

 ‘That would be very counterproductive.’ Roman felt his hair being softly smoothed, a usual indication the other was losing himself in his thoughts. ‘Nicknames are supposed to help us. Having two equal names is not the most efficient thing.’

 Roman dramatically scoffed, picking the stuffed animal and half hugging it, his free hand occupying itself in making a couple of gestures to no one, since his soulmate couldn’t exactly see them. ‘It’s not about being productive, Bear! It’s about feelings!!’

 ‘And since when,’ a light poke was delivered on his belly, making him squeak and mess with the teddy bear’s hair in revenge ‘Everything isn’t feelings for you, your highness?’

 …

 “Okay,” Roman and his self past disappearing with the fading memory said, in synchrony “You shall call me by Prince, then.”

 Suddenly he felt himself falling, his hands quickly holding on the tabletop as the cold, nauseous feeling took over his stomach, more like a punch on it, his veins being filled with amounts of adrenaline for a glimpse of a second.

 “Excuse me? Warn a guy next time you decide to just drop his representation, dude! Damn.” Roman shook himself, trying to bring his body to calm down.

 “Sorry, I got… startled.” Logan gulped. The word ‘Prince’ echoing on his mind as a broken vinyl disc. What were the chances? That couldn’t be such a common nickname, right? Nor color. Nor interests. What were the chances? What could be the chances? Maybe he was just projecting, being played, tricked by a dangerous partnership between his own brain and emotions. Maybe he was just jumping to conclusions due the nostalgic feeling fogging his actions, his thoughts. Perhaps-

 “Hey, Lo? Are you there?”

 “Yes.” Logan answered, his fingertips colliding quickly with the fabric of his pants as he visualized his options. “Yes, I am.”

 “Hm. Okay, then. I’m… glad to know.”

 Silence. Logan took a wobbly breath.

 “Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back; Wherein he puts alms for oblivion; A great-size monster of ingratitudes:”

  “Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd; As fast as they are made, forgot as soon.” Roman continued without even noticing until the words danced in the air, just like the years haven’t passed.

 Then he understood.

  His heart stopped for a second, his eyes widening and his voice disappearing, as if his whole being was afraid to break the moment, the spell; as if this was a dream and a miscalculate step would make everything fade.

 “Bear?” Roman felt a light poke on his cheek.

 “Hello, Prince.”

 Roman choked a laugh, quickly crawling the teddy bear next to his chest, hugging it both firmly and yet so caring, curling around its - no, him - feeling an equal warmth involve his form as he hided his face on the soft fur, giggling and hugging, feeling so happy, so alive and right and good and he would never, ever, ever again let him go.

 “I missed you, bitch. Never scare me like this again.”

 “I… missed you, as well.” Logan tried to not let the emotion take over his tune, his hand petting the narwhal plushie softly, the words had abandoning him, as it seems. “This reunion is a… good surprise.”

 “Oh, shut up, I know you’re having a blast somewhere in that logic soul of yours, too.”

 Logan huffed, grinning. “Stop crying on my hair, your troglodyte.”

 “Make me, I dare you.”

 “Always so dramatic.” They both rolled their eyes, letting the moment be bathed in the deep waters of a comfortable silence.

 “Eleven years.”

 “We have so, so much to talk about!! Oh, my goodness gracious, I’m going to get my tea. Do you remember about that play I wrote about zombie princes and a dragon witch? You will NOT fucking believe what happened with it!”

 “Good thing I have you to explain to me then.” Roman stopped, a gigantic smile taking over his features as he closed his eyes to feel everything even more.

 “Yeah, I agree.”

 Somewhere in the world Patton and Virgil smiled during their sleep, unable to control themselves when a gigantic wave of pure joy and delight filled every corner of their hearts, coloring it on the most brilliant gleam, just like their stuffed animals resting peacefully on their grip.

[dokidokivisual]

Gochiusa BLOOM episode 9 impressions

Previously: 8 - 7 - 6 - 5 - 4 - 3 - 2 - 1

That’s right, the long-awaited review of episode 9 is finally here! I haven’t managed to finish it last week and kind of lost motivation since almost nobody reads these anyway, but there we go. Not sure what I’m going to do with the remaining episodes at this point, maybe I’ll combine 10 and 11 together? 

The episode starts with a flashback from Chiya and Sharo’s childhood which shows the origin of Anko’s crown. The scene is “shot” in widescreen aspect ratio, a technique that I don’t remember being used before in Gochiusa anime, such as during the previous Chiya/Sharo flashback in Season 2 Episode 9.

I’d like to bring the attention to the opening shot of flowers, which are periwinkles (Vinca major). As you might know, Japanese media often uses the flower language, or hanakotoba which assigns specific meanings to various flowers. The meanings of greater periwinkle are “pleasant memories” and “childhood friends”, which seems to apply rather well here. In fact, if you see a shot of flowers in an anime, there’s a very high chance they have a relevant meaning in hanakotoba.

Of course I couldn’t help but look up chamomile as well, and its meaning seems to be “patience in the face of adversity”...

It seems that Chiya has now lost the crown, but it’s honestly surprising how it stayed on Anko all this time considering he has been carried away by crows and dropped from the sky more than once. Also, I feel like revealing the crown is lost so early in the episode deprives the viewers from being able to spot it on their own, just by seeing crownless Anko in various scenes (as has been done in the manga chapter).

In Chiya’s class there’s an election for picking the candidate from the class for the student council president position. The only two people competing are Chiya and the class president (who doesn’t have a name and referred to only as Iincho). In a surprising turn of events, Chiya gets 16 votes versus 14 votes for the prez (refer to the tally mark chart in episode 3 review), which means there are at least 30 people in the class.

Imagine losing a popularity poll to Chiya. The prez is a tragic character...

Cocoa volunteers to be Chiya’s “producer”, but Chiya calls her “First Lady” which totally means she wants to marry her. By the way, it was Cocoa who nominated Chiya for the election, which I don’t think is mentioned in the anime. In general, this particular chapter has been rearranged rather heavily for the adaptation with things happening in a completely different order, so it’s quite interesting to compare the two versions.

For example, when we see Chiya coming up with the names of various student committees, it seems like a completely natural and Chiya thing to do. It’s hard to believe that in the manga, it is Sharo who comes up with the idea of renaming all the committees. In fact this particular Chiya/Sharo tête-à-tête is not in the manga at all. However it’s an important scene to establish Sharo’s feelings towards Chiya’s presidential ambitions and she doesn’t seem too happy about them, in fact she doesn’t even congratulate Chiya.

Next we have another anime-original scene where Chiya goes to accessories store (from episode 6) to find a replacement for Anko’s crown. It should be pointed out that the design of the crown itself is not completely arbitrary. It features a moon crescent, which symbolizes night (the last character 夜 of Chiya’s name) but is also associated with Arabic world. The closest thing to Anko’s crown I could find is this heraldic crown of the King of Egypt. Anyway, this is also a reference to Chiya’s name, namely it being derived from Japanese name for 1001/Arabian Nights 千夜一夜物語 (Sen’ya Ichiya Monogatari).

Meanwhile Rize is trying to change image to be more like a college student, notices Chiya and asks to make her an adult (phrasing?). As a result, we get an appearance from Rize’s alter-ego Rose for the first time since season 1 episode 9.

The interesting thing about Rose is that despite being featured in only a small number of chapters, she gets a mention in Rize’s character blurb in Manga Time Kirara MAX until this day. It literally takes like a third of her character description!

Anyway, this scene is just a prelude for the adaptation of chapter 2 of volume 7 which is named after a Rize character song  鏡合わせのアンビバレット. In the song, Rize tries on outfits in front of a mirror and tries to convince herself that it’s still her. The illustration for this chapter also shows Rose as a mirror image of Rize.

We see Sharo looking through a bookstore window, which I think also appears in the following episode, and this is a foreshadowing that she works here too. The bookstore is named “Dreamy Books” which is seen later in the scene.

Chiya and “Rose” appear and at first Sharo doesn’t recognize Rize, and only does after Rize points a finger gun at her. Well, it’s not like there is anyone else in this town having purple hair or anything.

By the way you might notice that compared to the last episode the characters are dressed much more warmly, which reflects the fact that it’s already December. Looking back at the scene in episode 8 where Rize and Chimame cross the bridge at night, it’s quite shocking how lightly they’ve been dressed there.

Chino and Cocoa come by, and recognize Rize as Rose. It’s lampshaded that the last time they’ve seen Rose was more than a year ago, so it’s quite impressive that they still remember her, as well as her promise to visit Rabbit House (in s1e9 she only visits Ama Usa An). Rize thinks it’s a good chance to “infiltrate” Rabbit House to see what the others think of her when she’s gone.

Rize’s infiltration goes relatively smoothly until Maya and Megu barge in and immediately recognize her. Chiya manages to get them to play along in time, however Megu makes up a ridiculous backstory painting Rose as a ballet kempo practitioner who fights an evil organization.

Aoyama Blue Mountain also backs up Rose’s existence, by mentioning that she is in her literature club and also does food reviews. She gives Rize a cheat sheet which seems to parody the tendency of food reviews to describe food as “melting in your mouth” (for example wagyu beef).

Later Rize ends up having a conversation with Chino where she reveals that Rize’s been taking more days off than usual and it gets lonely without her. She has also started lazing about in the sun, just like Cocoa does, which wouldn’t have happened if Rize has been around upholding the discipline. In the anime Rize doesn’t really react to this, but in the manga she seems a bit disappointed in Chino.

This scene is a callback to the very first episode of the show, where Rize pretends she can’t easily carry these bags of coffee beans, because they’re too heavy for a “normal girl” according to Cocoa. Soon after, Rize’s cover is blown after she reacts to an intruder who is just Takahiro.

It turns out that Cocoa has already recognized it’s Rize. One thing that Cocoa and Rize have in common is that they change hairstyles a lot compared to the other characters, so it makes sense that Cocoa would not be fooled by a simple hairstyle change... or would she? Shortly after Cocoa has a realization that Rose has always been Rize, which makes her feel really stupid... until she finds that Chino is still completely in the dark about everything. Maybe Chino has propagnosia, or inability to recognize faces? Anyway, Rize is quite supportive about it and asks Chino if she’s ok if she does image change in the future.

But there’s still one more twist in this chapter, since Cocoa’s sister Mocha makes an appearance! Considering she appears in the opening, this season hasn’t really done anything with her yet. But it turns out it’s just Cocoa in a wig (why does she even have a Mocha wig???), nevertheless she successfully fools Rize and Chino for a second. Maybe the last episode of the season will have real Mocha (I’m assuming she won’t be in the Christmas arc).

And we’re back to the student council election storyline. The “sandwich” composition where one story “wraps” another seems to be used a lot this season. In this case the stories have almost zero relation to each other so I don’t know why the episode had to be structured like this.

Chiya’s election poster (aside from Cocoa’s scribbles) follows a traditional Japanese election poster design, featuring a closeup photo of a politician, her name and a slogan (which implores you to vote like a shiratama dumpling for some reason). I feel like a poster like this prioritizes the looks of a politician over their policies or whatever, but maybe there’s some sort of election law that these posters have to follow.

Cocoa and Chino also wrote letters of endorsement for Chiya, although Cocoa’s was mostly written by Aoyama and was basically a food review. Chino not only made Chiya almost explode from praise, but also presented a verbal takedown of Cocoa on the fly. Later, Chiya makes a passionate speech trying to emulate Rize, but maybe Chino should’ve written that too.

Next I’d like to point your attention to the name of the dish that Chiya made to celebrate the occasion:

Aki no sora (in the autumn sky) Todoroku oto wa (a thundering sound is) Omedetai (auspicious)

If you count the syllables, you’ll find that it is actually a haiku. and it even includes a kigo (season word, “autumn in this case”). The final line is a pun, as tai indicates the presence of taiyaki (a bean paste filled cake shaped like a bream fish) in the dish.

Another anime-original scene appears to flesh out the episode’s “moral” and show how Ama Usa is where Chiya really shines. A bunch of old ladies (who seem like they starred in a Kirara manga a long time ago) enter the teahouse to celebrate the birth of a 5th grandchild for one of them. Cocoa also helps Chiya, donning the Ama Usa uniform once again. 

Chiya sprinkles gold dust on her dish, doing her best “salt bae” expression. Pure gold is inert and as such can be safely eaten. In Japan, gold leaf is even added to tea, which might explain why Chiya has it.

As everyone is about to go home, Chiya’s grandma appears through a rarely-opened sliding window and offers some manju as a treat. In the anime this is how Sharo eventually discovers the lost Chiya’s crown, which her grandma uses as a hairpin (the hairpin functionality explains how this crown doesn’t fall off Anko). Surprisingly she doesn’t appear at all in the manga chapter, and Sharo just randomly finds the crown “outside”.

By the way, the text on the manju box says “congratulations on winning the election”, which might’ve been a bit premature.

Sharo goes to return the crown back to Chiya, and Chiya repeats Cocoa’s reaction from part A, which sounds like breakup song lyrics. This dialogue wasn’t in the manga in either scene and I think it was included to somehow tie the two parts together, and make the inability to notice something obvious that was around you the whole time the unifying concept of the episode.

For Chiya the crown was the symbol of ambition, and her dream to become the director of Ama Usa An and conquer the world. Sharo has a lot of drive to work multiple jobs, but doesn’t seem to have a goal she aspires to. When she finally gets an opportunity to move up the ranks, by becoming a student council president, she declines it. Living side by side with Chiya forever (zutto issho) seems to be the extent of her ambitions. Sharo feels betrayed by Chiya being ready to “leave” her and spend more time with student council than at her own restaurant.

After the ED we see the conclusion of this conflict. Sharo sees the preparations for celebrating the winner of the election, and begrudgingly congratulates Chiya. We see Cocoa, Rize and Chino helping out, but Sharo wasn’t even invited...

But it turns out class prez was the winner, after Chiya has declined the nomination. She probably had all the posters and speeches at the ready just in case, and didn’t have to prepare at all. In the manga, this is also where she returns Sharo’s uniform that she borrowed back in episode 4.

Meanwhile Chiya and Sharo have a talk and agree that it was the best for them to decline their nominations and they should stick with what they have. Not sure if that applies to Sharo though, she wasn’t really shown to be “shining” but more like “barely getting by”. There was also another reason in the manga for Chiya to agree it was the right choice: Chiya’s classmates totally trashed her menu names, which means they probably wouldn’t like her committee names either. Most of the classmates dialogue was cut out in the anime though.

So that was episode 9 and all that’s left for this season is a 2-episode Christmas arc and the season finale. Hope you enjoyed this review and until next time!

[luv4fandoms]

Earth Angel (GabrielXOFC)

(Part 1)

So this doesn't fully follow the Supernatural timeline, somethings have been changed (like Gabriel's death in the au world cause it was stupid and I refuse to accept it lol) so just a heads up. This is also inspired by @askpsychocas 's Angel Courting Ritual post (which I use in my story. Askpsychocas if you want me to take those parts out let me know and I will). This story also has a Scott Pilgram vibe lol.

(Also if anyone knows how to do the "Keep Reading" thing on the mobile app can you let me know? Cause I can't figure it out)

If you would like to be added to a taglist for this story let me know.

Pairing: Gabriel x OFC

Warning: Cussing, killing, slight mention of torture.

Word count: 5,668

https://ko-fi.com/luv4fandoms

(From @askpsychocas 's angel courting ritual)

Step One: Recognize your intended.

Angels are warriors, no matter what rank. Most are attracted to strength of will and faith in their cause. Bright plumage is often utilized. Angels either grow in brighter feathers or they naturally change colour in order to lure in intended mates. Large, well-groomed wings is a sign of vitality.

Obviously, this is a step both modern and traditional courting rituals use.

"Earth angel, earth angel, will you be mine?

My darling dear, love you all the time

I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you"

I sang along as I drove down the road, my latest case bringing me back to my childhood state of Florida. There had been at least three people turn up dead recently, all with their hearts missing, so originally I thought it would be a werewolf, but there have been more and more people talking about the recent "Dogman" sightings...So...Skinwalker maybe? Either way, off I drove from the case I just finished up in Alabama, back home. My stomach growling loudly was the only other noise beside the radio and the car, and it was my indication that it was time to stop in at my favorite diner.

A few more miles and I was pulling into the parking lot of "Sally's diner" a small little place off the beaten track, one you wouldn't find unless you knew about it or were taking the scenic route, but it was a diner that hadn't been touched by time since it opened back in the 50's, and it was a place I visited often when near. Once I parked I noticed a very familiar vehicle a few spaces down, and I couldn't help the smile that formed. Quickly stepping into the diner I was greeted with the smell of fresh brewed coffee and cooked onions...Ah...Home.  Looking around I spotted who you knew would be here, the owners of that familiar car, Sam and Dean Winchester, but what really caught my eye was the person sitting with them,or rather the giant pair of gold wings that sat with them. I looked around, but no one seemed to notice them.

'How does no one notice them?! Ok...maybe only hunters can see them? Maybe he makes them only visible to us...yeah it has to be something like that, just shrug it off Liz'

I mean, Sam and Dean seemed to be getting along with whoever it was...somewhat well...Ok they looked kinda annoyed, Dean more than Sam. So the...Being couldn't be that bad,right?

Heels clicked across checkerboard floors as I made my way over to their booth, the stranger's voice reaching me as I drew closer.

"Come on Dean-o, you love me and you know it" 

"I swear Sam I'm going to kill him" Dean muttered while Sam just shook his head.

"I thought I recognized that beauty out front,and I don't mean my car" I smiled, finally reaching the booth and catching the attention of all three men. The boy's smiles matched my own as they quickly stood from the booth.

"Long time no see" Dean smiled, hugging me tightly before releasing me to Sam who was quick to get a hug in as well.

"How have you been?" He asked.

"Good, just came off a job, though I'm guessing we're here for the same reason" I laughed.

"And who is this beauty?" The new voice spoke again, this time when I turned I could fully see the owner, and well...I was not disappointed. Golden brown hair swept back over a face that couldn't have been much older than the boys, whiskey colored eyes filled with mirth, and...something else, and a smile that was both inviting and also showed mischievousness. To say that the man...Being...was gorgeous would be an understatement, and the golden wings really suited him, both in appearance and, what you suspected to be a very flashy, playful personality.

"Well hey there sweetie, they call me Liz, nice to meet you" I smiled, holding out my hand for him.

"Nice to meet you too" he smirked while taking my hand and kissing the back on it, his eyes never leaving mine before he gave me a wink.

"Ok ok that's enough Gabriel" Dean spoke, causing Gabriel to let go of my hand and me to laugh.

"So, what's a beautiful classy lady like you doing hanging out with these two lumberjacks?" Gabriel asked, scooting over and patting the seat beside him, I sat down before Sam or Dean could protest, but made sure to watch out for his wings, it was bad enough the poor guy was tucking them as much as he could, I didn't wanna sit on them by accident.

"They helped me out on a case a few years ago, we've just kept in touch ever since" I shrugged

"They help when I need it and I help when they need it," I added with a  smile.

"Wait...You're a hunter?" Gabriel asked, looking honestly shocked.

"What? Women can't be hunters?" I teased, he opened his mouth to speak before someone chimed in.

"Here are your drinks, your food will be out soo- Liz! It's good to see you!" The young waitress smiled, Maddie and I were good friends since I started coming to the diner, after I politely publicly embarrassed and pretty much shamed a dude who was grossly hitting on and harassing her.

"It's good to see you too sweetie" I smiled, leaning up to hug her when she leaned down.

"Just passing through again?"

"I may be staying a couple of days this time" 

"Well we are always open for you" she winked before asking

"Your usual?"

"You know me so well Mads" I smiled, she smiled back and with a nod turned to leave.

"You must come here often" Sam laughed

"As often as I can when I'm near" I smiled.

"So, back to the fact that your friend here doesn't think girls can be hunters" I smirked.

"Now I never said that" Gabriel defended himself which caused Sam and Dean to crack a smile.

"I just mean...You don't...there seems to be a uniform with this type of work"

"Flannel?" I asked with a laugh.

"Exactly! And you...Well" he gestured to my figure, my blue polka dotted 50's style top, black cigarette pants, and small heels. my makeup light except a winged liner and bright red lips...it was true...I didn't look like a hunter.

"Sorry, I left my plaid dress in my bag" I smiled.

"I'll take it as a compliment though," I added, giving him a wink.

"So you're saying Liz is too pretty to be a hunter?" Sam asked

"Oh don't worry Sam, you're pretty too" I smiled causing him to chuckle.

"Isn't he though? I keep telling him that" Gabriel teased and I couldn't help but laugh at it, especially when Sam just rolled his eyes.

"Ok now that we have established that Liz and Sam are both pretty" Dean started, earning a glare from his brother.

"I'm guessing you're here for this case too," he added.

"Yeah,though I'm a bit stumped" 

"What's there to be stumped about, classic werewolf" Dean stated.

"See that's what I thought too, until I noticed all of the Dogman sightings being reported recently." I started, leaning onto the table to lower my voice.

"Wait Dogman, really?" Dean asked mockingly.

"Mock all you want to, but I know a hoax from real and Dean, we don't have another moon landing on our hands here"

"Skinwalker?"Sam suggested

"Possibly, but I've never seen one like this, legit looked like the classic wolf on two legs deal" I stated, leaning back in the seat when I heard footsteps approaching. 

"Here you are! One bacon deluxe burger, one complete breakfast combo, and two mega waffle plates. And here is your coffee Liz" Maddie smiled.

"Thank you" Sam and I smiled, Dean already eating, Maddie nodded and left again, I turned to pour syrup onto my waffles when I noticed eyes on me, turning my head I was met with wide eyes and a smile.

"Yes Gabe?" I asked before returning to my syrup task.

"Nothing just...Where have you been all my life?" He asked, causing me to laugh while cutting into my waffles.

"Mostly in Florida" I shrugged

"Until later on, then...well...then I guess it was just catch me if you can" I winked, popping a piece of the sugary goodness in my mouth and giving a small moan at the flavor.

"Still the best waffles ever" 

"So we are thinking what? New monster? A-a skinwolf? Werewalker?" Dean asked.

"Possibly?" I answered

"A werewolf and skinwalker danced the lambda?"Gabriel asked, I simply shrugged.

"Love is love, who are we to judge what two different species do" 

"Yeah expect when that offspring starts killing people"

"Well one good thing, silver kills them both" Sam replied

"There we go, Sam always coming in with the silver lining" I spoke.

"Pun intended?"Gabriel asked before taking another bite.

"Happy accident" I smiled.

As I ate I noticed that neither of the boys mentioned Gabriel's wings, even as they twitched and ruffled from being constrained for so long, poor guy, I hoped it didn't hurt. But the fact that no one had brought it up made me wonder if it was rude to mention them? Or was this such a common occurrence that they were simply used to them? Either way I watched them spread a bit wider while Gabriel stretched once the four of us were outside the diner, I could see now that the color wasn't simply gold, but an array of gold-ish shades, going from a dark gold almost bronze at the base of each feather, up to an almost honey color at each tip. They did shine a bit in the sun but they weren't the glittering gold I had originally thought they were. Though, even in their half stretched state I could tell that they were massive, and if unfurled fully would be very intimidating.

"So, until we know what we are dealing with, why don't you let us handle it" Dean started, but I quickly cut him off.

"Uh no. We ain't doing this damsel in distress thing, I can hold my own just as well as you two can and you know it. And besides, you know this town? These people really well?" After a moment of silence I continued.

"Exactly, so I'm part of this case like it or not" I finished, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You tell em sweetcheeks!" Gabriel spoke, walking up beside me. I noticed now that we weren't sitting, due to my heels I was a few inches taller than him.

"So where is the scooby gang off to first?" He asked.

"Ok fine!" Dean sighed.

"Dean why don't you and Gabriel go to the morgue and Liz and I-" Sam started before Dean and Gabriel both interrupted.

"No I am not getting stuck with him" came from Dean while

"Hey hey how come you get Liz?" Came from Gabriel.

"Hey, the only reason you're even here is because Cas suggested that we take you along" Dean pointed at Gabriel who simply rolled his eyes and looked away from Dean.

"Ok Sam and Dean you two go talk to the families, you're better at that, Gabriel and I will go check out the stiffs" I smiled before turning and making my way to my car before they could say anything. I looked back at Gabriel but found him right beside me.

"I love a woman who can take charge" he winked, I couldn't help but laugh.

"Hunting with those two, you have to, otherwise they steal all the action" I smiled while climbing in the driver seat, I noticed that Gabriel hesitated to climb in, and for a moment I wondered if he was afraid of my driving, but upon leaning over to tease him about it I noticed him looking at my car. I knew she was a beauty, a white 1958 Chevy Impala with gold accents, our cars were the first thing Dean and I bonded over. But what really seemed to be holding his attention was the gold pinstriped wings and name of my car...Angel.

"See something you like?" I giggled, catching his attention as he looked through the window at me, a smile forming before he opened the door and hopped in.

"And soft seats" he said while moving around.

"You really know how to spoil a guy"

"What can I say? I like to treat my men well" I chuckled while backing out of the diner and making my way to the morgue.

"So what was that about someone suggesting that the boys take you along for a ride?" I asked after a moment.

"Ugh, my little brother Cas decided that it would be a grand ole time if I tagged along with Scully and Mulder, said it would be a good bonding experience" he explained. 

"And is it? Do you feel bonded?" I giggled.

"I wouldn't mind bonding with you" he smirked, wiggling his brows and earning another laugh from me. 

"Sorry sweetie, I ain't that type of gal" I replied while pulling up into the parking lot. 

"So is this where we get to pull out our fake badges and pretend to be the FBI?" He asked, raising his hand like he was about to snap his fingers.

"Nope,this is the part where the sheriff knows that I'm a hunter and anything weird that comes in I get a call about" I smiled while stepping out.

"Aww, I wanted to play criminal minds" he pouted, and I had to admit, he could rival Sam in adorableness. 

"Sorry sweetie, maybe some other time" I patted his shoulder before leading the way. Just as I had said, the sheriff let us look at the bodies right away, and yeah...All signs pointed to either werewolf or skinwalker. 

"Well it looks like I'll have to get my silver bullets ready" I sighed while pulling the sheet back on the third vic, Gabriel walked around the room, looking at random things, and for a moment I watched his wings easily avoid everything they might hit before I turned my attention back to the body.

"You really don't have a problem with any of this do you?" Gabriel asked from across the body.

"An innocent person dead? Yeah I got a lot of problems with it"

"No not that, this" he gestured to the body

"Looking at dead bodies, hunting monsters, most women I've met wouldn't go near this kind of stuff"

"Sweetie no offence but it sounds like you've been hanging out with little girls then, not women" I smirked while meeting his eyes, his wings ruffled behind him in almost a shiver motion, jerking slightly open for a split second before hiding behind him again. 

"You know...Maybe you're right" he spoke, his voice quiet, almost as if he were speaking to himself instead of me. I tore my eyes away from his to look back at the body, a young girl, no older than nineteen, heart gone and a lot of her guts too.

"Wait" I tilted my head trying to get a better look at what was attached to where her intestines used to be. 

"Hand me those tweezers please" I asked Gabriel, motioning towards the table behind him. He quickly handed them to me and I plucked the strange fibers off of the body.

"Well agent, any ideas?" Gabriel asked.

"That my lovely partner...Is wolf fur" I stated before adding

"So skinwalker"

"Or Dean-o was right and we are dealing with a skinwolf" Gabriel replied.

"Let's stick with werewalker" I spoke, pushing the body back into its freezer and tossing the gloves off on my way to the door.

"Skinwolf sounds like some really weird porno you'd find on the wrong side of the internet at like one in the morning" I laughed 

"You sound like you're speaking from experience, something you'd like to share with the class?" 

"Trust me, no, I'll leave all the weird stuff to my family" I told him before calling Dean to tell him what we had found, he explained that all three of the vics had gone hiking out at the major state park where their bodies were found. So I agreed to head there and we'd all check it out.

"So you're family, they hunters too?" Gabriel asked when I pulled back out onto the road.

"I'll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours" I smiled, watching him from the corner of your eye. I was hoping maybe some info on his family would help me figure out what he was because honestly the wings were throwing me. My first thought of course was an angel but...I had never met one before...I suppose there could be angels out there, perhaps in hiding or fallen, but if he was hiding why did he show his wings to every hunter? So maybe he was something else? His wings were sure majestic enough to be angelic that was for sure, I had noticed it when you left the police station, the way his wings seemed...brighter almost. They were lighter in color, the base of each feather now a burnt gold instead of bronze, to a lighter honey color at the tips, but what caught my eye was how much more they shined than they did at the diner.

'Maybe the color is attached to his mood?'

"Not much for me to say sweetcheeks, brothers are douches, love em to death but, and dad...dad left a while ago"  he stated, his voice lowering at the last part.

"Yeah my dad left a while ago too" I nodded.

"Is that the reason you started hunting?" He asked.

"Partially, after he left my mom got back together with her first husband..he's a hunter so..didn't take long for all us kids to get into it"

"How many siblings you got?"he asked

"Six counting step siblings. Got one half brother, two blood brothers, a step brother and step sister" Gabriel let out a low whistle that made me laugh.

"Yeah I know, the kicker, I'm the youngest out of them all" 

"Yeah me too, but, that just means that we are the final perfect outcome, all the others were just prototypes" he said with a wave of his hand. I couldn't stop the laugh even if I wanted to, and the look on his face almost made me wonder if his whole goal was to do just that.

"I am so using that at the next family gathering" I told him once I had finally caught my breath.

"So…"Gabriel started after a moment of silence.

"Have you ever wanted to do anything other than hunting?" He asked

"Don't really know" I shrugged

"I've been doing this since I was nine so" I stated.

"So? You've got your whole life ahead of you! Come on, ever wanted to travel?" He asked

"I do travel" I smirked, causing him to roll his eyes.

"Outside of the country, France, Italy, places like that"

"Oh, yeah I guess I always wanted to visit like England. But work keeps me pretty busy, and it's not like hunting really pays the bills" I laughed while pulling up into the park's entrance near Dean's car. You heard Gabriel mumble something as I got out, but it was too low for me to understand, and Dean started talking as soon as I got out. 

"So what did you find out?"

"That you may actually be right" I replied as I made your way over to them.

"That doesn't happen often" Sam joked, earning a glare from Dean.

"The vics were all missing hearts sure, but I found fur on one of them as well"

"Could just be an animal that left that" Sam added

"Wolf fur? Gray wolf fur? Not here in Florida" I replied

"How do you know it was wolf fur?" Dean asked

"My stepdad hunts, more than just monsters, I know my fur" I laughed. 

"Ok well, everyone have their silver?" Sam asked, to which I showed my two loaded pistols and knife. He and Dean nodded before leading the way, leaving Gabriel and I to trail behind.

"You always carry those around?" He asked, nodding towards my weapons.

"Always best to be prepared" I winked, watching as a smile spread on his lips and his wings ruffle behind him. I found myself once again curious about them, were they attached to his emotions? Could he move them like an actual bird? Or did they just kinda do their own thing? They were the same colors as in the car but now with the bright sunlight peeking through the trees, they shimmered much more when you weren't looking right at them, like only if you caught them out of your peripheral did they look like metal. The hike was fairly quiet, the sounds of our collective footfalls and the creatures of the forest the only things meeting my ears, nothing seemed out of place-until we all reached the middle of the park. I knew that there was an old ranger station out this far, had been since the park was zoned, but a while ago they decided to make a new ranger station closer to the trailhead and exit, figuring it would be better than in the middle if someone were to get lost out here. The sounds of a branch snapping behind us had both Gabriel and I turning to look, but not being able to see anything. 

"Gabriel?" Sam asked quietly while surveying our surroundings. 

"There's something there," he replied, eyes darting around the treeline. 

"Just one?" I asked, slowly reaching for my gun.

"No, there's four of them," he stated.

"Four?" Dean asked just before something lunged at him, knocking him over and causing him to let out a grunt.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, turning and shooting the beast as it pinned Dean, jaws snapping at his face while he pushed back. One clip in and finally the thing fell over, motionless beside Dean who quickly got up.

"What the hell is that?!" Dean shouted, wiping the things blood from his face.

"Werewalker" I replied, looking over at the beast who did in fact resemble the beast from every werewolf movie I had seen. The body not quite human but not quite wolf, shaggy gray fur covering the stretched skin, hands and feet now clawed appendages, and the face having a long snout filled with long sharp teeth. 

"Ok that...That isn't natural" Dean spoke, finally regaining his breath.

"Well one good thing, your gunshots and girlish screams chased the other three off" Gabriel stated, still looking around.

"I did not scream" Dean quickly defended, to which Gabriel simply smirked, man he really loved messing with them, and honestly it was quite comical how easily he could do it. 

"We need to find the others" Sam quickly spoke, getting everyone back on task.

"There is an old ranger station not far, that might be their hideout" I told them, already stepping ahead, we needed to get this done, and we needed to do it quickly, if these things got out of state it could lead to a trail of bloody bodies and fast. Gabriel quickly caught up, flanking my right but also slightly in front, the boys on my left. Man if a girl ever wanted to feel protected this was the group to hunt with. About fifteen more minutes of hiking and we could see the collapsing roof of the old station. The building had long since started to decay, broken windows from rowdy teens, and holes in the walls and roof from most likely the same cause. 

"Anything?" I asked, glancing over at Gabriel who's eyes were focused on the building.

"Two inside" 

"Werewalker or?" I inquired further, watching as he focused.

"One's just a skinwalker...The other" he started, trailing off as his eyes widened before he muttered "shit" just as something could be heard running through the trees to our right. Quickly pushing Gabriel aside I unloaded my clip into the beast as it leapt from the brush, dodging it as it's limp body fell to the ground where I had been standing. I was about to ask if he was ok when we heard more noise from our left, Sam and Dean were only able to get a few shots off before they found themselves thrown, Gabriel ran over, an odd silver blade in hand as he began to fight one of the beasts. I reached for my other gun, about to go help when I found myself face first on the ground, a weight holding me down as a growl echoed behind me.

"You stupid hunter bitch!" She yelled, before her weight left my back and I felt her gripping my collar, I reached back to grab her hand but soon I was sent flying. My body collided with the tree before I even felt it, a grunt slipping past my lips as I hit the ground. 

"Liz!" I could hear Dean yell while I tried to fight off the dizziness. 

"You three will not interfere!" She shouted, before letting out a whistle, which was soon followed by the growls and heavy footfalls of more beasts. Who the hell was this woman? Finding my balance I rose to my feet, gun in hand and pointed towards her before she turned to look at me again, a smile on her face revealing sharp teeth. She wasn't the same as them...she was just a werewolf.

"That's cute" she spoke, turning fully towards me now.

"So what did he tell you huh? Or did he just give you a fun night and you were hooked?" She asked, slowly advancing towards me.

"What?" My face showed true confusion at her words, what the hell was she talking about?

"Gabriel" she stated, as if that would explain everything.

"He won't stay, he'll just up and leave one day, no goodbye, no anything" she added...oh...oh she thinks.

"And you'll look everywhere for him, cause he was the only one that ever made you feel alive"

"Listen lady, I don't know what you think, but he and I just met today," I explained.

"Doesn't matter, you're an obstacle, and I'll be damned if I lose him again"she spoke, bolting forward and grabbing my gun before I could get off any shots, her other hand grabbing my wrist and slinging me into a nearby tree. I could hear more gunfire, everyone else still struggling with the werewalkers as I tried to grab my knife.

"Oh no you don't!" She yelled, punching me in the stomach before throwing me back towards the station. I gasped for the air I had lost upon impact, when her face came into view again, her body pinning mine down as her mouth stretched into a smile. I glanced around, Gabriel, was helping Sam finish off one beast while Dean quickly killed another, but what caught my eye was the silver knife nearby, within arms reach, it looked just like the one Gabriel held but he still had his, so this must have fallen off one of the boys? At that moment I didn't care, looking back at the woman as she hovered closer.

"You know, I would turn you, make you one of my pack, but you see...You'd still be in the way..so I think I'll just kill you instead, easier that way" she spoke, mouth opening and starting to lunge forward when her body halted, mouth slowly closing while her eyes widened and she leaned back, examining the blade that now protruded from her ribcage.

"You're right killing is easier" I told her, watching as she slowly fell to the side, her body still as I yanked the blade out of her heart. I pushed her body fully off of me and stood, looking over at the boys who looked just as disheveled. I turned back to the station, remembering Gabriel had said there was a skinwalker in there as well, but the sight I was met with wasn't what I was expecting. A young boy, no older than eighteen was chained to the wall, the lower half of his body already changing to that of one of the beasts. 

"What the hell?" I heard Dean's rough voice ask beside me, we all looked at the kid, barely breathing and too weak to even open his eyes, but somehow found his voice.

"Please" he begged, his pitiful noise causing my eyes to tear up.

"Don't let me become like them" he added, we all looked at him for a moment, this poor kid, life barely begun and he was already a skinwalker...Now he was becoming...Something even worse. I looked away as Dean lifted his gun, seeming to be the only one that had the will to give into the kids request. The sharp sound of the shot rang out and my body jumped a bit, before feeling a hand rest on my shoulder, I looked up to be met with a comforting honey gaze and I nodded at his unspoken message 'it was for the best'.

 Night had fallen by the time we had dug a hole big enough to put all the bodies in and we stood for a moment after Dean threw the match.

"So..I have a question" I started.

"I have a lot- Like who the hell was that?" Dean added as we all looked at Gabriel, who never took his eyes off the fire.

"Her name was Sophia, we met...a while ago"he started

"We had a fling for a bit and then it ended, I'm all for getting crazy, but she was an animal in bed" he added, trying to lighten the mood, but if the resting bitch faces Sam and Dean were giving him were anything to go by, it wasn't working.

"So you mean I almost got killed by your crazy ex girlfriend?" I asked, arms crossed.

"One, I didn't think I would ever see her again, and two, your handled yourself beautifully sugarplum, even against an alpha, you two boneheads need to take notes from this one" Gabriel spoke, gesturing towards me, but his last quip wasn't what caught the boys ears, or mine.

"Alpha?!" I asked, looking down at the now burnt body.

"That was an Alpha?" Sam asked, eyes never leaving Gabriel's form while Dean looked upset.

"Liz just went toe to toe with a fucking alpha?" 

"And she won! She's a lot tougher than she looks." He smiled, walking up behind me and placing his hands on my shoulders. 

"You son of a-" Dean started but I cut off his no doubt, bloody rant about killing Gabe.

"That's how she was turning them so easily, the Skinwalkers" 

"Seems like it, Sophia always said she would do anything to make her pack strong again"Gabriel confirmed.

"I wonder if the bunker has anything about alphas doing stuff like this in the past" Sam spoke, by his quiet tone I knew he was speaking more to himself than anyone else but his words made my ears perk up.

"Bunker?" I asked.

"Yeah it's…" he started but seemed unsure on how to proceed.

"Our home" Dean provided, looking over at Sam.

"Home" I nodded, sure I had a family, but home wasn't something I had for a while. We kinda jumped from safe house to safe house making sure everyone was ok. As if sensing my declining mood, Gabriel draped his arm around my shoulder, the body heat seeping through my cardigan and warming the skin I hadn't even realized was cold. But what really caught my attention was the golden wing that also came to wrap around me as well, the fire causing a more orange glow to overtake the gold, but they still shimmered in the flickering light, and they almost seemed...Fuller. 

"How about we go grab some food, I know I could eat, how about you sweets?" He asked, his face inches from mine as I watched the light of the fire dance across his honey gaze, almost causing them to become the same color as his wings. 

"Yeah, I could eat" I nodded.

"Alright, let's head out"Dean spoke, turning to leave. 

"And uh, if you don't have any more cases...You can come back to the bunker with us, there's plenty of room" Sam suggested, Dean looking back as they both waited for my answer, I thought for a moment, all I really did was travel from case to case, it would be nice to rest for a bit. 

"I'd like that" I smiled, Sam's grin mirroring mine while Dean gave a small smirk. We all began to walk towards the trailhead but I noticed that Gabriel hadn't followed, looking back I noticed he was still by the fire, staring at the now pile of ashes.

'He must be remembering the times he had with her' I thought, and for some reason that thought made my stomach feel uneasy, confused I pushed those feelings aside, they didn't make sense anyways, instead my gaze landed again on Gabriel before I called out.

"You comin' sweetie?" My voice seemingly knocking him out of whatever trance he was in because his head soon lifted so that our eyes locked once more, but this time there was something different in his stare and I watched as his wings rose high above him, stretching out to their full size. The thick mass of feathers glinting in an unearthly way in the flickering light, and for a moment it didn't seem like I was looking at a human form, instead I could almost make out a golden light, something that both held form and didn't, something that seemed ancient and unknown. My breath caught in my throat and I wondered for what felt like the hundredth time today just what he was. Our stare never broke, and I realized what I was seeing lingering in his stare...Determination.

I hope everyone enjoyed part 1! Let me know what you think! Please stay tuned for part 2 and if you would like to be added to a tag list for this story let me know!

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-05-19

Figured an upd8 was coming, it’s felt like enough time has passed for one.

Huh, looking at my last post I’d completely forgotten I was supposed to play through Pesterquest sometime... work is busy and stressing me out a bit, I’m not sure when I’ll have the energy on the side to do that.  (Maybe I’ll livetweet it like I did Undertale a while ago, but this time not looking at my twitter replies so I don’t get spoiled by One Guy™?)

Also, including bonus commentary on A Threat Sensed.

Okay, going in completely blind.  I’d guessed from context that we’re hopping over to Meat side to get a chapter there before we can come back to actually see Yiffy?

Yep.  Okay, what is this about exactly?

(Agh, dammit, I’ve been copying and pasting so much at work remoting into Windows lately that now I’m automatically trying to hit control-C instead of command-C to copy.)

> CHAPTER 9. How Goes The Eulogizing, Dear?

CONTENT NOTE: This chapter contains Child Abuse.

Which one???

Wait

JANE: (Where is he?) JANE: (It's a question I've found myself asking many times in recent days.)

Holy SHIT we get two Candy chapters in a row???  So we might see her right away??  No, it’s gotta just be another tiny glimpse.

(Has two Candy chapters in a row happened before?  Future Boots, scroll back up and put this here. FUTURE BOOTS: “I forgot to scroll back up and put that here.” EDIT: Also, not the first time with two in a row, but it IS the first time with THREE in a row, huh.)

So Jane has to be talking about either Tavros or Dave.  --Oh, if this was a Candy Side chapter title, I guess Rose or Jade is eulogizing Dave for John?

> (==>)

JANE: (Where now is our merry savior?) JANE: (Where is the horn that was honking?) JANE: (Where is the cape and the codpiece, and the...) JANE: (The...) JANE: (Oh, fiddlesticks.)

What?  Is she reading a childrens’ book?  --Oh.  She’s eulogizing Gamzee.  So that gives us a third option, where the rebellion crashes the funeral somehow, probably audiovisually rather than in person.  (Which would make sense, given Candy practically began with Gamzee crashing Dirk’s funeral.)

> (==>)

Ah never mind, she’s still writing it.

That sure is a single button drama-remote that’s going to be pressed at some point.  Oh, and who the fuck keeps a spork in a pen cup???  --No no, don’t say it’s one of those pens with a spork at the eraser end, either ready-made or rubber-banded to the side.  That would make sense.  You totally know it isn’t that and is just a spork.

JANE: (Okay, poetry is out.) JANE: (What else?) JANE: (Hrm...) JANE: (I've always been pretty good at crying on cue.) JANE: (Could I try staging an emotional breakdown?) JANE: (That could work; playing to people's humanity.)

Why were you crying in Jake’s arms about his death if you didn’t care that much?  Did you just want him to hold you and kinda make him feel in on things again?  Or did you just cry yourself out about him?

JANE: (Or whatever is the more inclusive term.)

I bet the rest of Earth C figured out a more inclusive term millenia ago FUCK I accidentally added millennia to my dictionary misspelled instead of correcting it hold on--

...There, killed the entry for it.  ...Huh.  Take a look at my Chrome dictionary’s custom-added words over the years, apparently:

Caliborn Eridan Kanaya Matriorb Meenah Tavros alchemiter dichotomic nephilim reblogged uncaptchalogues uncaptchaloguing

That’s fun.

Okay back to reading. Millennia.  Phew!  Where was I.

JANE: (One really good and calculated weep could do it, I think.) JANE: (But then there's the danger that I might get carried away and do it for real.) JANE: (And I can't risk that.)

So still feeling something, just too used to calculating over the past years.

JANE: (What can I say about him that will stir up their emotions?) JANE: (Do I mention the stuff about the milk?) JANE: (Think Crocker, think.)

WHY would you-- how much did Gamzee normalize adult breastfeeding?!

JAKE: Ahoy over there!

Not the best time.

(The thing with the divorce papers from the Epilogue and John implying he was planning with Jake to execute something that sounds like a divorce... is that going to be sprung here?  Did her lawyers send the divorce papers way back when she was in a fit of pique, and he just had them available to sign now at the tactical moment? Or... let me pull the exact text...)

JOHN: now, harry anderson, i know that you and tavros haven't always gotten along. JOHN: but i am going to have to ask you to try and look out for him for the time being. JOHN: your uncle jake and i... well, i'll explain later. JOHN: let's just say that gamzee isn't the only family member jane is losing today.

(So is John going to submit the papers? Or did they already go through a while ago and default custody to John or something who’s going to adopt him too or some nonsense?  And did he plan this out with Jake NOW, or a while ago, and if only a while ago, is Jake going to KNOW whatever John’s about to pull in that respect is about to happen??)

> (==>)

Butte

Janepalme

> (==>)

JAKE: Er... how goes the eulogizing, dear?

Gah.  I completely forgot again that capitalized-first-letter chapter names don’t mean KANAYA is saying them.  That probably makes a lot more sense out of my wondering about the chapter title earlier to those of you who didn’t realize I was making that mistake.

JANE: It turns out that it's mighty difficult to find touching things to say about a person, the relationship with whom was predicated on deep-seated mutual loathing.

Hah!

--A loathing you regarded as largely more important to you than Jake ever was, by the way.  You asshole.

JANE: I imagine this is one of the reasons no funerary tradition was ever established on Alternia, besides the barbarism of their culture. DIRK: Jesus christ. JANE: Not only did a significant proportion of their interpersonality depend on romance in the form of hatred, but it was a society based on cruelty and violence. JANE: What reason could they have had to provide for the dead? JANE: What kind of last rites could they have even imagined?

I wondered for a moment why (bg!)Dirk of all people would react to a single line of her starting to bring up prejudices, but then I realized that (1) Brain Ghost Dirk is a little more Jakey, and (2) Dirk knew that more ranting would follow the first line.

JANE: I can't think of anything good to write about him because deep down, I hated his guts. JANE: But he was and is beloved of the multitude, so I have to think of something regardless. JAKE: Im not sure i understand. JANE: Don't worry your pretty little head about it. JANE: This is politics, Jakey. JANE: Lying through your two front teeth about people you hate is about as good a definition as it's possible to get. JANE: But, by gum, is it tiring work.

Mm.  It’s a position Jane put herself in, but it’s still a legitimate position once you’re there.

JANE: The funeral is tomorrow, after all.

Got it.

DIRK: Dude, the bowl. JAKE: Hm? JAKE: Oh, right. JANE: What is it now, Jake. JAKE: I brought something for our guest as well. JANE: You mean the prisoner. JAKE: Y...es.

Wait, bowl?

Oh god damnit which of you had the idea to feed her with a DOG BOWL.  Either of you could have thought of it, and either of you would be horrible for it.

> (==>)

Huh, that outfit on Yiffy looks familiar, like a reference to something.  And a black tail?  This definitely isn’t quite the look I was expecting from Jade Plus Rose, but I suppose the snazzy tie is a Roseish vibe.  Also reminiscent of Jade’s old Dead Shuffle dress.  Formal wear and soccer cleats??

JANE: She's over in the corner. JANE: Don't worry, she won't bite. JANE: I've seen to that already.

WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN.  I don’t see anything over her mouth!  Did she stick something in it, or drug her?  File her fucking teeth???

I mean I did forget the Child Abuse trigger warning to be fair.  Hoping whatever would be on her mouth is just not shown in-panel yet for stylistic reasons.

> (==>)

JAKE: Its only mac and cheese, sorry. JAKE: Its all I know how to make, haha. JAKE: ... JAKE: I um... hope you can safely partake of cheese? JAKE: ... JAKE: Well, JAKE: Bon appetit.

How the fuck did Jake eat on his island then?  --Oh right, preserved food cans that Grandma Jade stored up, I think I remember.  Why would cheese not be a thing for them, if it’s fine for Jade?  I know he’s probably not just worried about lactose intolerance.

Either way, if she’s drugged here, that’ll mean we won’t get a good idea of her for a while, so which is it...

> (==>)

DIRK: Bon appetit. DIRK: Seriously dude? JAKE: (What? Did i pronounce it wrong?) DIRK: Jake. DIRK: You put the food in a fucking dog bowl. JAKE: (It was all there was, ok???) JAKE: (I feel awful enough as it is without you getting on my case about it.)

Ah, missed the bone pun.  AND, yeah, Jake, you’re a fucking idiot, you could have put it in a cup or something.

JAKE: (So far ive yet to see anything come of that brilliant plan of yours.) JAKE: (Are you sure sending that message to the others was enough?)

Okay, so he IS coordinating this slightly.

> (==>)

Horrifying image to contemplate, eh Jane?

Or anger-inducing?

> (==>)

Seems about right!

> (==>)

Oh that’s a GREAT exasperated Jane face.

JANE: I hope you're not expecting dessert, young lady.

I like how Jane didn’t notice, comment on, or care about the bowl.  How can you hate a kid so much??

> (==>)

Oh I know why I felt like I recognized the outfit style, it’s because it’s ANIME AS FUCK.  Feels like some Persona 4 Arena nonsense, and I say that not having played any of those games or even remembering what they looked like.  Also, white hair, black fur’d dog parts?  Nice change of pace.

YIFFY: GRRRRRRRRR... JANE: Oh no you don't.

Red text?  What color exactly... “#D00009”?  Huh.  That’s nowhere near Alt-Callie’s #FF0000, and darker than Dave’s #E00707.  In fact, let me go back and check those spilled color pins the commentary pointed out from an update or two ago...  no, the red pin is #E63225, closer to Dave’s color.  (Also, is Yiffy blocking the doorway out?  That’s a pretty slack chain then.)

Did Jane see to it that she wouldn’t bite with like, a water spray bottle?

(EDIT: Oh my FUCKING GOD, THAT's why it's #D00009...)

> (==>)

FUCK I didn’t notice the shock collar in the Yiffy image!  FUCK YOU, Jane.

> (==>)

Keeping someone in line with collars, especially ones that punish whenever one strays out of line, has always been a decent way for her to mix in some Doomy control of others to show how she’s “grown” to balance her main role and her Tiara-controlled-like inverse for more power.  Doom in part represents boundaries that you can’t cross without getting hurt or punished.

> (==>)

FUCK, those little buck teeth!?  D’:

JANE: That's more like it.

She HAS to have more of a reason for hating her than hating her parents, right?  Like, more than that and general racism applying to partdogfolk?

> (==>)

Hey fuck off with that!

> (==>)

This is a pretty cool ima-- are those piercings on her dog ear?  I didn’t notice that in the first shot, neat.

JANE: You've been a thorn in my side ever since I agreed to enroll you at the academy, little madam. JANE: Back then, I was doing a favor for two old friends who made a disgusting mistake. JANE: I'm no longer going to play nice with you just because of your parents, however. JANE: That truce is over. JANE: Do I make myself understood?

What the fuck?  WHY would you do that?  Why does Jane run "Ms. Paint’s Home for Inconvenient Girls”?  What did Yiffy do to piss her off so much there, how much trouble could she have caused?

I don’t know if she’s referring to the behind-Kanaya’s-back part as disgusting or she’s just being MORE racist.

> (==>)

JANE: We don't want you passing out during the ceremony, do we?

Oh, just showing the hostage off during the clown funeral, huh?  Classy much?

> (==>)

JANE: Now, be a good hostage and get some rest, Yiffany dear. JANE: We've got a big day tomorrow.

For a politician, Jane’s not good at looking at herself in a mirror.

> (==>)

JANE: Night night. JANE: Hoo hoo.

> (Yiffy: Lights out.)

Huh, dream stuff is gonna be relevant out in Candy then? *click*

Okay, dark background all of a sudden.  Properly dramatic?  You even have to highlight the non-link “>” part of the Next link to see it.

> (==>)

-- thespiansGlamor [TG] began pestering adamantGriftress [AG] --

Well, I don’t know WHY it’s happening, but the white-backed pesterlog suddenly on the dark site framing is certainly evocative.  Of like, a mood, or something.

TG: i thought he was pretty quiet down there. TG: we'll make a rebel of him yet! AG: Lol. AG: I think it's more that he can't sleep. AG: I know how he feels. TG: yeah. TG: today was a lot. AG: ... TG: do you wanna talk about it? AG: Ugh, not you as well.

It’s really jarring to transition between Homestuck’s “kids jarringly mentally resistant to freaking out about the end of the world” to HS^2′s more realistic “kids traumatized by their first firefight even though it was an overwhelming victory-escape”.

TG: but seriously, do you? AG: Not really. TG: not even about... you know? TG: her? AG: No. TG: ... are you sure? AG: A8solutely. AG: What are you, my moirail? AG: Just leave it, Harry. TG: ok.

Are they about to have an “I wonder what Yiffy’s like” talk?

> (==>)

Very similar Tav/Vrissy convo to the previous one.

GG: I havent ever shared a bedroom before,,, GG: Not even for a slumber party,,, AG: Tavvy, you are just a8out the saddest person I've ever met.

Well, we have an even better idea how horrible Jane can be with kids, now.  From Nanna to THIS is quite jarring.  I wonder how the double Nannasprites that must still be around here somewhere feel?

> (==>)

TG: nothing about my dad is cute. TG: what are you even saying. AG: Lmao. TG: seriously! TG: i think he has something against that word, even. he gets super weird about it. AG: He's a strange and funny m8n. TG: yeah. TG: ... TG: i think something bad must have happened.

...um.  What?  Why would John have some sort of trauma about the word cute or being called it?

Did John dress up as a hint of his buried June ambitions as a kid and Dad lavish him with “SO CUTE” praise in an epic supportiveness backfire that caused him to shelve the idea of wearing non-masc clothes and being happier on the flipside of gender ever again???  Because if that’s how June gets canonized as promised, it’s a little harsher than the back of my mind was hoping.  I guess it kind of had to be though from the premise of how it was read into his childhood for the original idea, though.  Fuck, I hope this Cute business is about something different from that (like a Terezi reference or such) just to get less John Sads.  (But still June.  Definitely still want to get June.)

> (==>)

Oh, and now Vrissy is doing nothing but talking about what she said she didn’t want to talk about, of course.  (Also I like how JANE’s now being called the Batterwitch.)

AG: And the worst part was they didn't even fight a8out it! AG: That made me madder than 8nything else. AG: It felt like I was the only person who even W8S mad! GG: I dont think thats true,,, AG: What would you know a8out it?! GG: Maybe nothing,,, GG: Sorry,,, GG: Its just,,, GG: To me,,, all the way through the conversation,,, aunt kanaya looked even angrier than you,,, AG: ... AG: Adults are so fucking weird.

Guh, I don’t want to be reminded how hurt a good chunk of the fanbase is by Kanaya getting hurt this badly.

Original Tavros was always SLIGHTLY perceptive of others sometimes, but maybe perceptiveness is being hinted at as a Tavros specialty?  We still don’t know his classpect/hero-title or have any firm guesses based on purely him evidence.  (Also, frightened kids of abusive households tend to learn to get perceptive pretty fucking quickly I hear.)

> (==>)

TG: dad was sitting in the cafeteria with aunt jade and your moms. TG: it looked like they were discussing something important... they were whispering and stuff.

[etc etc] Alright, the what-happened-to-Dave bit.  And I imagine they’re kind of helping John grieve there, since Rose and Jade have talked that out already.

TG: aunt kanaya's was the only face i could see. TG: she was standing next to them, but she wasn't looking at what was going on. TG: almost like she couldn't bear to. AG: I doubt it. Kanaya's got a8out as much Emotivity as a very reclusive stone. TG: ok, i think that is bullshit but whatever. TG: she saw me standing there, but didn't say anything. she just shook her head slightly, and pointed back out into the hallway i came down.

Yep, giving them some space to grieve.  Also-- gosh, shouldn’t Vrissy have the same emotive senses that Aranea implied Vriska shared with her?  Kanaya isn’t that EXPRESSIVE but she’s certainly full of emotion.  Also, I hope part of her not bearing to watch wasn’t lingering anger toward Jade and Rose mixing with that, but there probably was a bit of that too, though Dave being gone is so much harsher than that. --I just realized they might not have broken the news to Karkat yet, either.

AG: I guesadxcxzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz TG: vrissy?

Put to sleep by someone slumping down on your phone keypad, or surprised by something about the other conversation?

Oh shit, “other conversation” reminded me I didn’t look at Tavros’s chumhandle:

glutinousGymnast [GG]

HHHHHhhhhuh.  Hm... huh? hhhh.  huh?  what, but.  Why would.  ?????

I really don’t understand what that chumhandle or any of its entendres should signify in this context.

Also, this means for our new four kids we have TG, GG, AG, and ??.

> (==>)

GG: I think she might have succumbed to sleep quite suddenly,,, GG: It would explain the,,,,,, interesting messages I've been getting for a while,,, TG: hehe. TG: i guess that tracks. TG: she does that from time to time.

That’s... strange.  Homestuck’s taught us to be suspicious of that.

TG: ... TG: tav? GG: Yes,,, harry anderson,,,? TG: what does it feel like to know someone who's died?

Who is Harry referring to? (EDIT: Yes I know Gamzee for Tavros, but I meant Harry talks like he's worried he'll have to feel that way soon?)  Is he just kind of inferring that something bad might have happened to Uncle Dave?  Got that perceptive “parents are about to tell me about a death in the family” vibe?  Or did he overhear more than he let on to Vrissy?

...alright, that’s the last page of this update.  Looks like this chapter is going to continue to have a good bunch of grieving, or talk around it.

---

Now for Bonus Commentary for A Threat, Sensed.  For some reason I have a dim memory of like... reading this myself without commenting on it?  Or skimming it?  But I’m pretty sure I didn’t do that.  Weird.  Must have imagined doing it.

Ah, I think I saw the opening paragraph scrolling Patreon, and my mind kinda filled in the blanks, this is still looking new to me.

Okay, mostly banter and japes in the commentary here.  About Dirk “throwing a huge tantrum in his philosophy cave”.

We’ve had quite a bit of speculation on whether this is “really” Andrew. To that, I think we’d say that it doesn’t “really” matter.

Really?  That was speculated about?  :/

Here we discover that Dirk has not, as some people have speculated, been directly intervening into the Candy timeline, or influencing it in any way. In fact, he has a very hard time seeing anything going on there at all.

Mhmm, and that was a pretty important thing to learn.

A couple of years ago I might have agreed with the take that everything happening in Candy is simply too outlandish to ever happen naturally, without direct, villainous interference, but that was before literally every fucking batshit insane thing that has happened on Real Life Earth started going down, and now I will believe literally anything. 

This is a nice bit of distraction from the idea that at least the opening parts of the Candy story were written/narrated by Original, Alive Calliope over on meat side.  To refresh your memory of what was pointed out to me:

ROXY: back when jade first got all effed up callie saw somethin and it made them freak out ROXY: it took me weeks to convince them that it was safe to come home ROXY: but now we got the opposite problem and they arent leavin the house at all ROXY: they stay home all day with the blinds drawn paintin some weird ass shit on the walls TEREZI: WH4T? ROXY: its not as bad as it sounds i promise ROXY: some of it is like ROXY: weird and violent?? ROXY: like lotsa nasty purple blood and um ROXY: nudity???? TEREZI: >:? ROXY: yeah yikes ROXY: but MOST of it is cute stuff like... various combos of all of us being happy and gettin married and shit ROXY: anyway thats kept callie kinda busy

Which tracks with the initial out-of-character-seemingness of almost everyone at the start of Candy, and how they kind of tried to railroad things back onto the “Happy??” track after Dirk derailed it with his weird self-accumulation suicide, along with some of the flowery-idyllic descriptions of characters seeing each other bathed in a halo of light and such.

Of course, they’re not going to out-and-out STATE that Calliope was at fault for that narration, helping the Candy story not necessarily fall out the way it did “naturally”, until we finally get a glimpse of her on the heroes’ ship in Meat probably still painting the continuing Candy events, inspiring them into the void of the singularity with her latent powers.  Til then, it’s a bit of misdirection whenever the topic is to be brought up.  Along with a mix of Roxy’s late-Candy point to John of more or less “why COULDN’T we have done this naturally? you don’t know”.

He might even think that he has more direct power over the narrative than Hussie does himself. Surprise, motherfucker, you are a fictional character. 

:p

I’ll quote this next part in full:

There’s been talk of whether or not this bonus was written in the two days between its release and the Yiffy reveal chapter. The answer is--no. It was written over a month ago. But I think the things it addresses were not difficult to suss out. Obviously, Dirk is highlighting the issues that the readership are having with Yiffy, in his typical Dirk fashion. If it seems a little defensive, well...I suppose it is. Yiffy is one of the two hard lines drawn in the sand, and all of us love her, and we’re hoping that everyone else will love her too. But more than that, it focuses on the fact that update culture has a rhythm to it--shock, revulsion, acceptance (or not), and then excitement (or not). Will it follow that pattern this time? Who knows. I guess we’ll find out. 

Yeah, given what was going to be dropped on us I expected they would have had exactly this lined up, especially because Andrew specifically mandated Yiffy.  --I wonder why they aren’t mentioning that somewhere in the commentary and only on one of their Twitters?

Also quoting this:

There’s something both incredibly “cringe” and self-indulgent, as well as philosophically intriguing, about the author arguing with his villain, especially since he’s writing both halves of the conversation himself. You are, for all intents and purposes, trying to solve a problem that you have created for yourself. You are looking an aspect of your personality in the eye and asking, hey, what the fuck, man?

But in the end, isn’t that what every story is? Trying to untie knots that you put in the rope yourself?

Since it’s part of the central struggle of this story, and kind of the question Andrew’s tried to imply with every Homestuck work about what right we have to keep these characters trapped in a story, and if they’d be better off escaping it.

I’m really trying to avoid quoting so much of this, since the commentary is paid...  but I think we can make an exception here?  I’ll have only quoted about half of it; just, the really plot-important half.  Plus, I left out a LOOOT of japes.

Dirk has a certain idea of how stories are supposed to go. That’s pretty much what the Epilogues is about. The audience also has a certain expectation of how a story is supposed to go. In a way, the Epilogues were also about that. They were taking a story that had reached the traditionally “acceptable” happily ever after, and saying, wait, no. What happens next? Thinking past happily ever after in any story is a terrifying prospect. Once Cinderella marries the prince, what then? Sure, she got what she wanted, but who knows that it will be everything she dreamt it would? What if she changes her mind, if not today, what about ten years from now? What if the prince dies of malaria? 

And I’m...

Yeah I don’t have anything else to add here, I’m kind of out of brain juice to think about this tonight.  BUSY day I had.  Y’all take care!

[baka-monarch]

Vergilius

Part 1

TRIGGER WARNINGS: MENTION OF ABUSE, MENTION OF TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, MENTION OF PTSD, MENTION OF BAD PAST EVENTS

Paranoia.

The most powerful side to exist. Paranoia was in charge of all of Thomas' fears, his anxieties, his views, and most importantly, his dark thoughts. Paranoia lead the Dark Sides strictly and efficiently, making sure that they did everything according to plan, and that the Light Sides could never interfere. Paranoia was not to be questioned, lest someone be hurt, and no one wanted to be hurt by Paranoia… not again.

Everyone feared Paranoia, even Remus was scared of the side. No one was even allowed to be near the infamous side.

Well, almost no one.

Roman was the only side that Paranoia kept close. Roman was at Paranoia's beck and call, not having a choice otherwise. Before he and Remus split Paranoia and King had been in a relationship, King having been the only side as powerful as Paranoia. However, once King-Creativity, split neither Roman or Remus were as powerful as they'd once been, and Paranoia had to make a choice.

The twins had wanted to be polyamorous…

But Paranoia had other plans…

"Oh, Princey~" The all too familiar voice purred through Roman's head. Roman glared down at the collar destined tightly around his neck, the charm on it glowing a bright orange. It was almost cliche with how he felt like a prisoner when with Vergilius. He shivered at the name. Paranoia's name. He was the only one who knew it, the only reason for him knowing it being, "A pet has to know their master's name." Roman shivered at his words. Roman would give anything to be rid of Vergilius, he would even reconnect with his brother if he had to, but he couldn't worry about that right now… especially since it would never happen, and he would be selected to Vergilius to be punished if he didn't go to the Dark Side's room soon.

Roman hurried to Vergilius' dark castle that had once been Remus'. The fake guards out front recognized him emidiatly, the pity on their faces was unmistakable. Roman paid them no mind, too focused on getting to Vergilius' room before it was too late. As soon as he made it to the door he paused to straighten (ha) his suit and crown, the crown being a "gift" from Vergilius. Once he finished he opened the door and bowed.

" You called, Majesty." The name felt bitter in Roman's mouth. He hated this-this torture that was supposed to be love. He couldn't even tell anyone about it, Vergilius, being Paranoia, gave him the power of silence. He was able to constrict people's vocal cords, warp their minds, make them fear speaking.

"Yes, my little prince. I was hoping to have a break day today, have some fun with my favorite little side." The words left Paranoia's mouth so easily, as if he had just breathed, and not threatening Roman's very mental health like he did. Every. Fucking. Time.

"O-of course, Ma-Majesty…" Roman stuttered out, gulping down his fear. He didn't have time for that, for bad emotions. He had to focus on being happy. On making Vergilius happy. For everyone else. "What… What did you have in mind?" Roman plastered on a smile, all too familiar with this facade.

"You remember Tuesdays, don't you?" Vergilius smirked, loving the fear he could feel from within his love, but knowing that Roman must love him, why else would the little prince pretend to be happy if not for his sake? Oh, how he loved Roman and wanted nothing more than to just keep him here inside of himself… but he couldn't keep him, unfortunately.

"Th-the tacos?" To anyone else, it would have been an innocent question, but to Roman, he knew what this meant. Vergilius nodded, confirming his fears. "Ah, y-yes." Roman hated those days, where Paranoia would rip pieces off of Roman and eat them in tacos and other foods… it was originally a nightmare made by Remus but it had inspired Vergilius, making Roman suffer at the expense of this sadist's joy.

Vergilius chuckled darkly. "Oh Princey, so guess you really are the fairest of the land you've gone pale!" At Paranoia's words, Roman forced a giggle of his own, hating the sound.

"I guess I must be Snow White right now." Roman cringed at his attempt at a pun, but Vergilius had requested for him to make more the last time he was called upon, so he had no choice. Paranoia laughed darkly, loving the terrible joke. Once he had calmed down, he smiled longingly at Roman's body, specifically at the place where an unmutilated organ should have been in Roman's pants.

"Shall we begin, Princey~"

***

That was barely even a week ago. Roman had been called to the palace almost an hour ago, but not by Vergilius, by one of the guards. It had been years since Vergilius didn't call Roman himself, it was strange, but Roman wasn't about to let his guard down. The guard who had gotten him had brought a carriage and it was currently pulling up to the castle where Remus and Deceit were standing outside. Roman was the only Light Side allowed here, so it made sense, what didn't make sense was the Orange color slowly being drained from the landscape as it returned to its original green color.

"What's happening?" Roman approached the two immediately.

"I don't know, he's your boyfriend Mr. Masocist!" Remus snapped.

"We were hoping you would know…" Deceit muttered, having been used to Vergilius keeping his mouth shut unless Deceit was needed. Roman gave Dee a worried look, one that read "you okay?" to which Dee only meekly nodded to. 

 

"I'm going to go check. You two stay here." He grasped the door handle but before he entered he turned back to them to say one last thing as an afterthought. "And stay safe."

Roman jerked the door open only to find an empty castle. It was early quite, and Roman almost cried in joy, thinking that he was gone. Paranoia was gone! Alas, as soon as he was going to call out to his friends a loud sob could be heard from inside.

Roman was crushed.

His one moment of pure joy, demolished by a simple sound.

Roman unwillingly ventured into the palace and followed the cries. The sounds of sadness eventually lead him to Vergilius' bedroom. Of course, it was him… who else would it be?

"Majesty, is everything alrigh-" Roman cut himself off as he opened the door. That wasn't Paranoia. "Who are you? What did you do to Paranoia?" 

"I-I don't kn-know!" They stuttered out. Once Roman saw their face he recognized them as Vergilius, but they looked nothing like his master. They looked scared, and had tears pouring out of their eyes, smearing their… eyeshadow? After a beat, they finally answered the second question.

"Who's Paranoia?"