#i also like the fuzziness of the colours and lack of sharpness

[stevejobsbuysasamsung]

[mademoiselle-swan]

The Pretender and the Nightmare

The Constellation

The Kayama residence is a spacious penthouse at the top of a skyscraper situated at the top of a skyscraper that houses the HQ of a lesser known R&D company that creates support items for the general population. As soon as he gets off the elevator that brought him here, Izuku stares because the penthouse is filled with art. Priceless paintings he’s pretty sure he’s seen in museums at one point are hung artistically on the walls; vases and various expensive-looking trinkets are on display on every surface. It makes the whole place look quite intimidating.

But at the same time it’s also quite homey, with pictures hanging on the walls in the main hallway portraying the Kayamas doing various activities (some of which may be illegal, like the one that seems to have been taken at night in front of a bank he knows has been robbed multiple time in the last two years) and looking very happy. There’s also a fuzzy quilt thrown over the back of the couch he can glimpse from where he stands, and an massive aquarium separating the kitchen from the dining room that is filled with colourful fish. There are also plants everywhere. Beautiful bouquets fill the priceless looking vases scattered aound the penthouss while vines, heavy with gorgeous flowers and delicious looking fruit, crawl up trellis used to divide the dining room and living room. Intricatelly weaved basquets and stylish pots hang from the ceiling, filled with plants that droop downwards gracefully.

Izuku splutters when he is drawn out of his scrutiny by a girl around his age who tackles him to the ground with an excited squeal.

“You’re so cute! And you’d look even better covered in blood. But not your not, no, you would look amazing covered in the blood of your enemies! My name’s Miko! We’re going to be best friends, Zu-chan!”

“Miko, I think you can let him go now.”

The girl pouts but pulls away, allowing him to get to his feet. He takes this opportunity to take a good look at his attacker. It’s his new aunt’s daughter, Miko. She has jet black hair pulled up into two space buns. She’s grinning widely, cheeks rosy, showing teeth that look wickedly sharp. Her eyes are a beautiful gold colour, with slitted pupils.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Izuku.” He pats himself on the back for managing to not stutter even once. It’s something he and his adoptive dads have been working on for the past week and so far there’s been a lot of progress.

Suddenly he’s choking as someone hugs him impossibly tight.

“You’re adorable, little nephew!”

He can hear Shouta sigh in exasperation, and once he’s finally released the man lets a calloused hand rest on top of his head. It’s a warm and steadying touch he’s grown used to over the last week and it feels so safe and comforting. “Kid, this is Nemuri, also known as Nightmare, and her daughter Miko, who has just started helping us under the name The Pretender.”

“That’s so cool! Is it a reference to your quirk? It’s a shapeshifting quirk, isn’t it? Blood based as well if I had to guess, what with you sharp canines and feline-like eyes. Oh, oh! Is your quirk limited to one person at a time? Or can you stock up on multiple blood samples? What about clothes? How do those come into the equation?”

He stops when Miko looks overwhelmed, but before he can apologize or panic her face splits into a bright smile and she hugs him tightly. He fights the urge to squirm out of the girl’s hold, forcing his body to recognize the lack of malicious intent in the touch. He can’t help but stiffen though. Miko seems to notice because she releases him with an understanding wink and latches onto his hand instead. He can only hope that Shouta hasn’t noticed his ears reddening. Izuku holds back a wince. Who is he kidding? Of course his adoptive father has noticed. He can feel the teasing smirk being sent his way. Bastard.

“We’re gonna get along just fine, Zu-chan! I can’t wait to answer all your questions! How did you know about my quirk? That was so awesome!”

He smiles, happy that he’s met yet another person who’s fine with his mumbling habit.

“Thanks, Mi-kun.”

“Why? It’s the truth, no need to thank me! Come on, I want to show you my room!”

-.-

Shouta chuckles as his kid is dragged away by Miko, Izuku is wearing a soft smile that lets him know that Izuku already likes the girl Shouta considers his niece.

“Well that went well.”

He snorts. “Did you expect anything else? I knew they would get along perfectly.”

Problem children always get along like a house that lit itself on fire, after all.

“Drink?”

Nem holds up a bottle of his favourite rum and his lips twitch upwards as he kisses her cheek.

“You are a goddamn queen.” He breathes out before pulling an oversized thermos from the dimensional pocket within his scarf, grabbing the bottle of rum gratefully and pouring some of the contents into the thermos. He swirls the now spiked coffee a few times to make sure it’s well mixed. He then takes a big gulp that will hopefully make him forget about the chaos he’s just unleashed by introducing his kids to one another.

Then decides that that’s a problem for future Shouta and proceeds to take an even bigger gulp of his coffee.

-.-

Izuku sits on Miko’s bed gingerly, looking around as the girl tries to clean up the few clothes strewn across her room discreetly. A bookcase next to her desk catches his eyes and he notices she has an impressive collection of sci-fi books. There a whole shelf filled with Bernard Werber’s novels, a well known sci-fi French writer.

Miko gives him a wide grin and sits in her desk chair, fiddling with a bang of her hair.

“I’m so excited to meet you! It’s always so nice to meet a new member of our family!”

“But, I’m adopted?”

Miko tilts her head in confusion, the mouvement very reminiscent of a cat. “What does that have to do with anything? My mom adopted me when I was seven so I din’t have any room to talk. Besides, I’ve been asking for a brother for years, Zu-nii! No way I’m passing up on the opportunity to have one now!”

Izuku devolves into splutters. “Zu-nii? Brother? I can’t be your brother, we only just met!”

Miko gives him a pout. “Do you not like me, Zu-nii?”

“What? No! I mean yes! Of couse I like you!”“Then it’s settled! You’re my brother!”

He opens his mouth to protest, only to sigh in defeat as the sight of her puppy eyes makes him cave.

“Fine. I’ll call you Mi-nee.” He says, and can’t help the smile that spreads across his face when Miko whoops in delight and throws her arms around his neck.

-.-

Hizashi is about to knock on Miko’s door to inform Izuku that it’s time to head back home, only to stop himself when he hears demented cackling coming from inside the room.

He makes a tactical retreat to the living room.

It’s better not to know about these kind of things.

Plausible deniability and all that crap.

-._

Shouta eyes his kid in the rear-view mirror. Izuku is humming happily, a big goofy grin on his face as he stares out the window, eying a particularly flashy mutation quirk with inquisitive green eyes. He has his travel notebook perched precariously in his lap, his hand flying across the pages back and forth as he converts the mutter storm escaping his mouth into words. From experience Shouta knows that as soon as they get home, Izuku will disappear into his room and covert the notes he’s currently taking into a coded, coherent and structured analysis that would make many pro veteran analysts jealous.

It’s the first time Shouta has seen him be so happy. It doesn’t make it hurt any less when he realizes that Miko is probably the first friend he’s ever had. “So what were you and Miko planning back there? You managed to scare off Zashi so I have to ask before you cause an apocalypse without parental supervision.”

Izuku startles and halts his muttering, looking up as he stashes his notebook and pen back into his backpack. His grin gets wider as he massages his hand gingerly.

“Hm? Oh, we were discussing the finer details of my imminent death.”

Eery silence fills the car before Zashi breaks it.

“WHAT THE FUCK KID?”

For once Shouta doesn’t feel the urge to use his quirk to lower the volume of his husband’s voice, despite the fact that they’re in a fucking car.

Because, really, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Giving his son his best deadpan stare in the mirror, he lets out a calming breath.

“Problem Child. Explain. Now.”

Izuku throws his head back and cackles.

@felicityroth

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Shaw’s Tide of Emotions Date (Eng Translation)

🍒Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers!🍒

The entire date summarised in one picture:

The date begins with MC feeling nervous about playing for the band’s upcoming performance.

Shaw: Didn’t you say you’d show me what you’re capable of? Are you sure you can do it?

I look at Shaw, who has already strapped on his bass, his ear stud reflecting the stage lights. Even his eyes are illuminated.

MC: …Of course I can!

Shaw neither agrees nor disagrees. He lets out a ‘hmph’. The lights suddenly change. He lowers his head and the low bass resounds.

Drum beats follow after, and I come to my senses, frantically pressing the keyboard, its clear notes following the rhythm.

As the performance goes on, MC gets increasingly nervous because her 20-second solo is coming up

Once she’s done with her solo, she notices that the initial excitement from the crowd has dulled considerably, and some of the audience members are even frowning and whispering among themselves

…D-did I mess it up? Was the mood wrong or did I make a mistake somewhere?

I have no idea what to do and find myself glancing at Shaw’s position on stage, only to realise that he is walking straight towards me.

MC: You…

Shaw: Don’t say anything.

He hands his bass to me and stands in front of the keyboard. Only now does the synthesizer reveal its true capabilities, and the magnificent and strange rhythm resounds loudly. The audience seem to be roused from a dream, and once again come alive.

Applause, whistling and cheering ensues. Fire jets spew flames at the front of the stage while a rain curtain descends at the back.

The keyboard gives off the feel of a bass, as though it is accompanying the sound of the water droplets, and yet also sounds like shouting.

The water droplets pelt down on us and onto Shaw’s face, tracing his sharp features as they slide off.

I hold onto the bass dumbfoundedly, my heart beating violently along with the notes he plays with his fingertips.

Only after walking off the stage, far from the lights and the crowd, that my heart rate finally slows down.

MC: That scared me…

Shaw casually leans his bass on a box. He glances at me, and his voice carries not a single shred of disdain.

Shaw: That’s enough to scare you? You really lack guts.

I look at him wordlessly. This person finds every opportunity to taunt me, doesn’t he? 

Then again, I would have been too embarrassed to do anything had he not stepped in to help just now. I suppress my rebuttal.

MC: … Thanks for helping me just now.

While I have yet to fully shake off my anxiety, Shaw looks somewhat indifferent. He leans on a pile of boxes with a relaxed posture.

Shaw: I didn’t help you.

MC: Eh?

Shaw: I only changed the final portions of the bass to the keyboard. That song was meant to have two solos anyway. No one told you?

Blinking blankly at him, I catch the corners of his lips turn up. With this realisation, I become even more flustered.

MC: No! One!

Shaw: Maybe it slipped my mind. Why are you glaring at me? Is there a problem?

I vigorously nod my head, at the same time increasing the intensity of my death glare.

The other members of the band prepare to go for supper. While MC excitedly prepares to enjoy a good feast, Shaw stops her just before she leaves.

Shaw: You don’t want your jacket?

With his reminder, I suddenly realise that I am dressed in a thin shirt. The evening wind blows and I hug my clothes together to myself. I can’t help but cast him a look of suspicion.

MC: Did you hide it again?

Shaw: I have nothing to do with the things you leave backstage.

Still harbouring doubt, I head backstage only to find my jacket on an empty bench.

MC: Turns out he can tell the truth sometimes…

When MC returns to the meeting spot, she realizes only Shaw is around, and the other members are gone. Shaw snatches her phone away before she can send a message to the other members.  

Shaw: Supper is too boring.

MC: It’s just a meal… How “boring” or “exciting” can it be?

Looking slightly disgruntled, he turns off her messaging app.

Shaw: Here.

He throws the phone to me, his voice cutting through the loud music.

Shaw: Come with me, let’s go somewhere else.

They walk around for a while until MC asks Shaw where exactly they’re going, to which Shaw replies:

Shaw: No idea.

Slightly frustrated because she missed out on supper for this walk, she asks Shaw to at least decide on which direction they are going.

Shaw: Sure, let’s try it.

I thought Shaw was just playing along, but he seriously considers it for a moment and points towards a path.

Shaw: Let’s go that way.

MC: …

MC unwillingly trudges along with him. As the path cuts through a forest, she is faced with a beautiful lake. The lake rests under a starry sky, and flowers of various colours are strewn across the grass.

As she peers into the river, she sees Shaw’s fragmented and distorted reflection and starts laughing.

Sensing that he was the cause for my laughter, the expression in the reflection becomes even more unreadable.

Shaw: What are you laughing at… You’re not allowed to laugh.

Seeing that he is about to “torture” my hair with his hand, I immediately dodge, laughing even more.

Shaw: Hey!

A flash of consternation flashes across Shaw’s eyes. Before he can finish his sentence, I slip and fall backwards onto the ground.

MC: Ah, it hurts…

After his eyes sweep over my form, they morph into a gloating expression. His tone follows suit.

Shaw: This is what happens when you laugh so exaggeratedly.

I angrily rub my back, about to accuse him of lacking empathy. He unexpectedly plops down beside me.

With a look of surprise, I turn towards him.

MC: It’s fine if you didn't offer to help me up… But why would you sit down too?

Shaw: It’s my pleasure.

I am unable to refute, so with a small ‘hmph’, I turn my head towards the lake.

The faintly distinguishable stars are strung high above. Darkness cloaks the sky and the distant lights flicker.

For a while, neither one of us speak. The air suddenly becomes very peaceful, as though the hustle and bustle from before was all just a hallucination.

MC: What do you think everyone is eating now?

Shaw: Are you hungry?

MC: A little.

Because of the nature of our band rehearsals, I had gotten used to the routine of pulling late nights. Having supper became a regular occurrence.

Thinking about this “indulgent lifestyle”, I sigh. I can’t help feeling hungry, and when one is hungry, one should eat.

MC: Do you know of any good places to eat nearby?

Shaw: Not in the vicinity.

MC: You replied so quickly… Are you just lying to me again?

Shaw: I’ve been here thrice. Of course I know.

MC asks whether this means that the band has been together for a long time. Shaw looks at her intently till she feels uncomfortable.

MC: What’s wrong?

Shaw: Nothing much. Just wondering if you interrogate everyone you meet.

MC: Of course not, do I look like I have that much free time…

Shaw doesn’t respond and returns to staring. It makes my heart feel fuzzy.

MC: It’s fine if you don’t want to answer. You’re always so secretive anyway… Ah! But when it comes to adjusting the music score, no matter whether or not you want to, you should tell me!

Just thinking of the live performance makes me feel slightly gloomy.

Shaw: Why are you still hung up over it?

MC: It’s because you always bully people…

I pause, stretching a hand in front of me and bending my fingers while counting his “guilty” moments.

MC: The other time, it was only after I reached Live House that you told me the location had changed, and the other time, you- ACHOO!

My list is interrupted by a sneeze. I rub my nose, pulling my jacket closer to myself.

A rustling sound makes me lift my head. A jacket which still retains a lingering warmth is placed around me.

MC: You…

As though he didn’t hear me, Shaw stands up. With a white shirt framing his back, he looks both familiar yet foreign. I hurriedly stand and follow after him, wanting to say something and yet not knowing what to.

MC: Thank you… But aren’t you cold?

Shaw turns around and surprisingly does not mock my vulnerability to the cold. He just arches his eyebrows and his eyes rest on my right hand. I follow his line of vision but can’t find anything wrong with it.

I quickly notice the hand that is stuffed into his pocket, thinking that he is once again going to give me something, just like the last time he took out the Dragonfly Eye Bead. [Note: MC is making reference to an earlier date].

What trick is he going to pull again… Even though I have a bad feeling in my chest, I still stretch my hand forward.

Before I can react, Shaw takes my hand in his.

He is not wearing gloves. His five fingers wrap themselves around my palm.

Warmth emerges from our point of contact and melts the coldness of my fingers… A surprising gentleness and warmth.

After this thought fills my mind, the warmth gradually travels up to my cheeks.

I move my lips, but before I can make a sound, Shaw’s laughs.

Shaw: Look at how obediently you gave me your hand - Are you a Chihuahua?

After several seconds, I regain my senses and glare at him.

MC: What…!

I try shaking off his hand in a huff, but he merely tightens his grip, even using this opportunity to interlace our fingers together.

The struggling of my fingers creates an even more scalding warmth, and I feel my face flushing redder than before.

MC: L-let me go!

Shaw: I don’t want to.

He raises an eyebrow, not giving me a chance to extricate my fingers from his grasp. He turns around and pulls me along as he moves forward.

MC: Wait! The jacket is falling off! The sleeve, the sleeve… Slow down…

I stumble to keep up, desperately holding Shaw’s jacket in place with one hand, while the other hand remains in Shaw’s firm grip.

Leaves sway in the wind, rustling in the air. There is a dim light on the horizon and a crisp scent. It looks as though it is about to rain.

By the time we return, it is already dawn.

I bought a few tidbits on the way back because I was starving. Wanting to share them with everyone, I discover that the place is completely empty. Cradling my big bag of snacks, I feel slightly worried.

MC: Didn’t you say everyone came back already? Why isn’t anybody around?

Shaw takes the bag of tidbits away from me and throws both our bags onto the table. He plops down on the sofa, crossing his legs and looking at me.

Shaw: I only said that they “should” be back, not “would” be.

MC: I wouldn’t have bought so much if I had known… Forget it, I’ll leave it for next time.

I sit next to Shaw, rifling through the bag.

MC: Oh right, this is for you.

Retrieving two cans of different flavoured soft drinks from the bag, I hand them to Shaw.

Shaw has a earpiece in his ear. The morning rays of sunlight penetrate through the glass, making his hair look slightly furry.

Shaw: For me?

Who else? Where in the world can you find another person who would mix two different soft drinks together?

I hide a grimace, too lazy to explain, and stuff the cans into his arms, turning my head back to rifle through my bag again.

MC: These too – fried chicken flavoured shrimp crackers and hotpot flavoured cake. They’re all for you. Don’t you like eating… hmmm, what do I call these?

Stopping myself from calling them “junk food”, I struggle to find a synonym.

With his arms full of different tidbits, he purses his lips with an unreadable expression.

Silence takes over for a few minutes. He frowns, placing all the tidbits on the table until the only thing remaining in his hands is a can of Coke.

I stop what I’m doing, my eyes shifting back and forth from the can of Coke on the table to the can of Coke in Shaw’s hands.

MC: You don’t want that can?

Shaw: I don’t. I don’t want the rest either.

He shakes the can of Coke but doesn’t drink it. Instead, he shifts his gaze to me.

Shaw: …Don’t think that you understand me very well.

MC: What… I bought these for you out of the kindness of my heart. If you don’t want them, then forget it!

Annoyed, I whip my head around and refuse to look at him.

This person is really… baffling, completely unfathomable.

Band performances are so loud but he finds no issue with them. Yet, he often complains that I’m noisy.

The word “boring” hangs on his lips all the time, yet he enjoys strolling around aimlessly; one moment this, one moment that, always having an opposing view to me.

Before I knew it, I already held a full length “Criticise Shaw Meeting” in my heart.

The more I think about it, the more upset I get. I snatch the hotpot flavoured cake off the table and rip off the packaging.

MC: Since you’re not eating it, I will, hmph.

I mumble softly. However, the way I ferociously ripped open the bag catches Shaw’s attention.

Shaw: Hey, are you angry?

MC: Nope.

I answer immediately, tearing the cake and grabbing cutlery on the table.

I hear a soft “tch” from him as well as the ruffling of clothes.

Shaw: What a bother… Give it to me.

MC: Didn’t you say you didn’t want it?

Shaw: I do now.

I mimic him, letting out a “tch” and “what a bother”.

He doesn’t seem to have heard me, and only looks at me.

MC: You’re not allowed to change your mind this time!

I hand him the cake and a spoon. He unwillingly puts the spoon into his mouth.

MC: How is it?

I studiously observe his face but am unable to find any hint of an answer, so I can only ask him directly. With my question, Shaw’s face returns to its usual expression - the corner of his lips turned up, his eyebrow arching upwards.

Shaw: You’ll know it yourself once you take a bite.

Hearing this, I unconsciously shirk backwards, waving my hands frantically.

Since he’s so adamant about making me eat it, it must taste weird…

Looking at my stubborn refusal, Shaw’s mood seems to gotten even better, shoving the spoon in my face, flashing me a smirk.

MC: I’m not eating…!

The taste of oil is mixed with sweet cream. The strange combination of these flavours makes me question my existence. Worried that this taste would linger in my mouth permanently, I immediately reach out for the lollipop I had just unwrapped, wanting to ease the taste.

Just as I grab the lollipop, a hand suddenly reaches out for mine.

Shaw’s fingers wrap around my wrist. Exerting slight force, he pulls it over to him.

While he takes off his earpiece, he pulls my hand upwards until the lollipop is just about to touch his lips.

The morning sunlight outlines his facial features and illuminates the lollipop. His faint breaths fall onto my fingers. At this moment, my concentration is focused entirely on how my heart is beating like a drum.

I take a step back, but Shaw grips my wrist even more tightly.

Shaw: Why are you hiding?

Under the warm sunlight, it seems that even his voice has become softer and has taken on a tinge of laziness.

Light laughter enters my ears, and I blush, snapping out of my daze.

I push the lollipop towards Shaw, stuttering:

MC: You… If you want it, just take it. I don’t want it anymore…

Shaw looks down at the lollipop, but the corners of his lips turn into a frown.

Shaw: Then I don’t want it either, save it for yourself.

He finally loosens his grip on my wrist, returns to his original position, and decides to lie down. It’s as though he has marked this entire place as his territory, sitting wherever he wants to sit, and lying wherever he wants to lie. And he likes taking things…

I lower my head towards the lollipop, feeling my heart rate accelerate once more. I shake my head vigorously, wanting to forget about that earlier scene. Even so, my gaze unconsciously lands on the sofa.

Shaw is lying down on the sofa, holding on to an old MP4 player. I remember seeing him with this same MP4 when we first met too…

My curiosity is set ablaze.

MC: That MP4 player… were you listening to it that time on the bus?

He seems to have finally picked a song that he’s satisfied with and rests his head on his arm. He slowly closes his eyes and casually answers.

Shaw: Yeah. Someone gave it to me a long time ago.

His straightforward, honest answer is one that I did not expect.

Such an answer gives me the boldness to probe further, and I inch closer to him. The music from the earpieces isn’t very loud, but the quietness of the surroundings and the fact that he is only wearing one earbud results in the music from the other earbud flowing into my ears.

Surprisingly, what I hear are not fierce rhythms, but a very warm, low and pure music mixed with the sound of rain.

It sounds like a guitar, or is it a bass? Perhaps a mix of both. I can’t really tell, so I can only tread lightly and inch even closer.

MC: What are you listening to…

Shaw does not answer me, his breathing melding together with the music, steady and slow.

He’s asleep? That’s fast…

Because his eyes are closed, there is a lack of his usual sharpness. I can even make out a touch of softness on his features.

MC: Shaw?

I try calling out to him but receive no response. After a moment of hesitation, I slowly reach for the earpiece that rests on his clothes.

At this moment, an irresistible force presses against the back of my head, followed by Shaw suddenly opening his eyes. His expression is slightly different from usual, as though stripped of all his pride, leaving behind only the purest, most inner part of himself.

Shaw: You’ve been curious about me the whole of today. You really want to know?

Our breaths are exceptionally close. Just a slight movement forward would suffice in breaking this paper-thin distance. Our tangled hair parallels my messy thoughts.

Time seems to stop and my heartbeat has lost its steady rhythm. I can’t tell whether I am looking at him, or looking at myself through the reflection in his eyes.

MC: I want to know… Can’t I?

There seems to be a flurry of emotions in his eyes. He frowns, and lifts his eyes to mine.

Shaw: Bring your ear a little closer.

My body reacts on its own accord, taking the earbud in my hand.

Shaw: I can tell you about myself.

I slowly nod before realizing that Shaw’s hand is still on the back of my head, with no intention of letting go. He even pulls me closer to him.

His scorching breath spreads across the rim of my ear, and it feels like all the blood in my body is rushing to that spot, setting me aflame. I tremble lightly, realizing why I am reacting this way, and my face heats up even more.

Shaw: In exchange…

…What?

Before my mind can comprehend the hidden meaning in his words, I feel the warm touch coming close once again. There is a light, stinging pain accompanied by a slightly moist sensation on my ear.

I shiver and close my eyes, the sensation becoming even clearer. Blood floods back into my heart, and even the apex of my heart feels tender.

The lollipop in my hand falls to the ground with a ‘thud’, but I don’t bother looking for it. In my ear, the muffed sound of the bass strums thrice, followed by the sound of rain.

Yet, Shaw’s voice is clear as day.

Shaw: Tell me everything about you.

🍭

Phone Calls: First Call // Second Call

[ayakashiramblings]

ABC NSFW Headcanons: Koga Kitamikado

So... in my absence, the only time I went on ARR was to vote for Koga and Aoi. And I just realized one of my top boys is literally at the top! Hence, I’m going to do a super late tribute... 

ALPHABETICAL STYLE!!!

... I’m so sorry for ‘D’ though. Click on ‘Keep Reading’ to NOT SEE IT.

A - ‘Aftercare’ (What they’re like after sex)

Once you’ve been intoxicated by Koga… YOU GET EVEN MORE DRUNK WITH SAKE.

Seriously, a nightcap is what ends a nice round of magic… because he has much more in store!

“I’ve rolled the die to give me a one! That’s super odd!”

Goddamnit, kiss this dork, please. 

Because only amongst soft kisses will the both of you be lulled to sleep.

B - ‘Body’ (Body Part of Yours he Loves)

Your head.

… Wait, no, not like that. Sort of. Hmm...

It’s just that he wants to be closer to you and he’s extremely soft for forehead touches during these tender moments. 

Feels like that’s where you share everything, your thoughts, your deepest secrets... everything. 

C - ‘Cum’ (How does his cum taste like/look like)

You know what? I think it’s pretty good.

At first, I wasn’t certain because he is a sake lover and that will affect the taste.

Plus, he didn’t really say what he likes in Hot Pot, although I’m guessing it has to include thinly sliced meat and leafy vegetables. The thing is beef isn’t good but if he pairs it with the right non-cruciferous veggies, it could come out decently.

Another thing I’ve noticed is his regular food intake. Sure, it’s called an old man’s diet like what Kuya says but pickles and rice for breakfast are good if you want extra flavour.

So it’s one of the tops in the list for the fact it has enough volume with a taste that isn’t bitter, salty or sweet. It’s just... 

Warm. 

D - ‘Dirty Secret’ (DUH)

He hates peaches but...

Your butt... is like the only kind of peach he would ever consider eating. 

Brown peach, peachy peach, pale peach, green peach and whatever the colour your panties are today, he’s going to really secretly enjoy the fuzzy texture but also silently HATE that the closest comparison is his least favourite fruit. 

E - ‘Experience’ (Does he know what he is doing?)

He’s had a few partners but that doesn’t negate the fact that he literally takes any challenge by... the horns. 

He does go to the Entertainment sector but honestly, he’d get closer to the sake bottles then the women there first.

That said, he’s very observant and can suss out any sensitive zones you have to get you screaming all night is all I’m saying. 

F - ‘Favorite Position’ (Again, duh)

Don’t kill me. 

But it’s the CowGirl position.

Not only does he get to see you in all of your magnificent, unclothed glory... (or maybe with clothes? It’s up to you, hun.)

But there’s something about a strong woman just topping him that makes him go wild, especially when she uses his horns to guide him to her entrance as she sinks down on him.

G - ‘Goofy’ (Serious or humorous?)

Dude, expect the both of you to burst out in ridiculous giggles if any supposedly sexy line comes out wrongly.

“Hey, Koga, are you feeling... horny?”

“Depends, are we going to be thoroughly... purified in the shower?”

H- ‘Hair under THERE’ (Pubic Hair Treatment, does the carpet match the shades?)

He does get uncomfortable if any hair on him gets too long for... certain reasons. 

So yup, don’t expect a bush.

It’s interesting how the middle is entirely crimson red while the surround curls are black but Koga sometimes wonders if his lower part is bleeding as a result. 

I - Intimacy

Ladies and gentlemen, the #1 in intimacy. 

He really... really... REALLY does not want to ever lose you again so he keeps his body so close to yours.

Every time he recalls the past inferno, he would be sure to drown out the memories by stroking the flames of passion with his fingertips against your skin. 

And he will check that your eyes are still full of life, even when both of you are in the midst of a climax.

J-Jack Off (Masturbation)

Honestly? Maybe once in a blue moon last time.

This man has had to deal with running businesses, establishing connections, terrible nightmares of losing his woman, and controlling his Carnage. As cheery as he is, he’d rather dedicate his free time to helping the Capital.

Until he met you NOT dying in his arms. Now, he had to give in to these sudden carnal urges that are coming at him with full force to make up for his lack of horny times in his teens. Usually, he tries to satiate them with actually having you but if you are busy, he will do so.

K- Kinks (One or two of his kinks)

Get his horns. 

Have I emphasized it enough? 

No? 

GRAB THEM.

L - Location (Favourite places to do the do)

His office. 

A certain spot will be designated, far away from the precious books that he has accumulated but always near the spot where he can nap for just a short while... 

Only to be reminded of your sweet moans, flushed face and great, now he’s wide awake and has to work off that desire... 

BY DOING MORE WORK.

... Kuya decides to invite you more often to the house because he is getting really tired of seeing Koga not actually taking a break. 

M - Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Canonically, he gets jealous easily. Like, he actually beats Aoi in that department. 

Mention Toichiro giving you a beautiful kimono, Kuya sleeping at your place, Past! Koga giving you a book... wait, what?

Yeah, you catch the drift. No matter who it is, he’s going to want to reaffirm your feelings for him afterwards. 

Oh, but the ultimate turn-on is you beating him in a drinking contest.

... God, I’m making him sound like an alcoholic.

N - ‘No’ (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Absolutely. No. Sharp objects. 

Not only will they hurt you, but he’s also worried that if he himself gets pricked, the Carnage will act up.

He IS kinda into the thought of you wielding a sword though.

O- Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

The God of Giving. He gives so, so, so much. 

Whatever did we do to earn this deity?

Ok, to be honest, it was hard at first because he was worried about the horns poking your thighs and tried to do it as a human at first. 

Until you insisted that he be comfortable and try working out the best position for both of you. 

Do suck him right though. He won’t deny his love for a good blowjob. 

He’s even turned the idea of mutual masturbation into a game - who can make the other come first? The winner gets a prize (probably who is going to save everyone else’s asses next time)

P - Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual)

Koga tries not to be rough, considering both of your... er... jobs and shared tragedy together. 

If you grab his horns though... you asked for it. 

Suddenly, he is thrusting into you so hard that you get sent a little higher up the sheets, the bedding getting more wrinkled and... soaked with certain body fluids. 

He’s going to give you make-up kisses to the hip area though because of a guilty conscience... and also to admire how you are still quivering from the aftermath.

Ultimately has a good balance between slow and sensual sex to rough and rapid romping in bed.

Q - Quickies (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)

Poor soldier. 

Poor COMRADE OF YOURS.

This is his ultimate battle.

To take you right here, right now and bang like there is no tomorrow when technically they only have 10 minutes in some random closet...

Or to patiently and painfully wait for the sake of public decency (and sanitation) where you can be together without being seen? 

Taking you here in the middle of a hallway during a Gala sounds great but so does waiting until you’re behind closed doors so you can be free with those beautiful lips of yours.

Ultimately, the risk factor is what turns him to quickies if he’s particularly flirty but for more serious times, he’s definitely going to whisk you away somewhere for only the two of you.

R - Risks (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc)

... You know... we are talking about Koga Kitamikado, right?

It’s just a matter of what KIND of risk you guys want to take. A public one, a sex-toy related adventure...

The list can go on PROVIDED neither of you gets hurt.

S - ‘Stamina’ (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

The Carnage does take a toll on this aspect but Koga is an entrepreneur for a reason.

Let his fingers & tongue please you during the moments he has to recharge in between 3 rounds. 

T - ‘Toy’ (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

… Good god, he knows the owner.

But that’s the thing. 

Just because he knows it, unless you’ve expressed interest, he’s going to take things into his own very, very, very capable hands.

U - ‘Unfair’ (How much they like to tease)

Oh, he does tease you if you are acting particularly shy despite being completely nude and fully invested in intercourse.

He’s not going to be as bad a certain fox but he does love seeing you flustered if he hits a certain ticklish spot.

V- Volume (Do they moan/grunt?)

He really hates to admit it but you’ve been the only one to get ANYTHING out from him.

It’s even worse because even Koga can’t deny how animalistic he sounds.  

Growls, grunts, & groans, everything rumbles from him through you in the closest moment.

W - ‘Wildcard’ (Random Headcanon)

Medicine is not the only thing Koga is getting from Yura once you come in. 

No, but seriously, ever since you have given him those tea leaves, he has been hooked on aromatherapy and would like to incorporate that in your sex lives. 

It helps that there are some nice essential oils and massage lotions that help both of you get slick and ready.

Yura can’t judge him because... huehue...

X - ‘X-ray’ (How is the package?)

… I am too embarrassed. Let’s just say he has hit the double-digit integer in inches. 

But if you look at how I ranked him amongst the Dawn and Twilight factions, you know it’s gooD.

Yes, that ‘d’ letter was capitalized. A Capital D for the Man who loves the Capital.

Y - ‘Yearning’ (How high is his sex drive?’)

Before meeting you? His yearning was high… particularly, the yearning to die.

Same, my boy, same.

So honestly, it’s been sort of turned off although he could feel the biological urge and go get someone to relieve him of the ‘baggage’.

Upon meeting you, suddenly he has to adjust his sword hilt and... his other sword.

Z - ‘Zzzz…’ (How fast do they fall asleep?)

Honestly, he’s going to have trouble sleeping the first few times. 

Man is busy and working off that sexual energy just converts his strength to do something else.

Hence, the introduction of sake to share a lovely drink, a lovely moment and a lovely MOMENT TO FINALLY REST... with you!

[jemimaboultonmessagesmultiverse]

Final Postcards

These are my final postcard designs. They are each based off one of my chosen articles and their are four in total. I like some more than others visually but I believe they all achieve the goal of representing and communicating the headlines they correspond with. I also tried to make them all fit together nicely as a set and not all look like stand alone pieces. 

This postcard is based on my headlines regarding the hopes for finding a cure for blindness. Throughout this piece I have used space as much as possible, trying to add as much information to the page without it appearing cluttered or unreadable. I used layers to create depth and interest to the right side of the page especially and I have used a lower opacity to be able to add many objects in one space without them all obstructing one another in a negative way. The use of space is important to the theme of this postcard as I feel it could be a representation of the heightened senses people with blindness can feel, and therefore the imagery and space being on the verge of being cluttered can visually communicate an abundance of things us as non blind people may not hear or feel.

I stuck to a mainly black and white colour scheme with some smaller elements of red throughout. This approach was inspired by the work of David Foldvari, who typically only uses black and white with one part coloured, and Peter Bankov, who uses a white background in his work and often uses colour in linear areas, sometimes as gradients. The one bright area of red was chosen to represent the anger felt by people who experience blindness and their desperation for a cure, as red is typically seen as a very angry colour. I also added a more muted red in the background as a means to separate the harsh white background slightly.

The harsh lines seen in the background could communicate the harsh affects of blindness to the viewer due to their sharp edges and aggressive nature, as they were placed very quickly to give a flow across the page. I also placed the type saying “blind” repeating in a line down the side of the page. This regimented look was chosen to compliment the way that the edges of all of the shapes look as they are all very polygonal and harsh, with little to no curves throughout. I then also chose a type which contained a similar harshness and shape to fit with the lack of curves throughout the rest of it.

The form of the blind person is extremely simplified, using an abstract shape to portray the brain. This makes sense when paired with the chosen subject as a blind person would have not seen what a brain looks like and therefore they may believe it looks like this if it was described to them. On the other hand, the area containing many eyes is extremely accurate to what an eye looks like, to emphasise an importance of vision and to contrast the style of the open eyes with the style of the person who has no eyes, implying their blindness even further.

The textures seen in this contrast again each other, as the textures on the simplified face are very rough and grainy, whereas the textures in the rest of the parts, as they are mainly very blocky and smooth with little to no graininess I created the texture by using the threshold tool on photoshop to amplify the little texture which was found on the original screen print. The textures like this on this particular area of the piece can work to discuss the concept of a fuzziness in the vision of the person who the texture is a part of and how it is affecting them in a very large way, taking over their entire sense of self and changing who they are as a person.

Throughout the entire piece I have used contrast, especially utilising the natural harsh contrast that can be seen between black and white. To do this I have made the negative space very bright and clean white and covering the foreground in images which are bright and dark black. I also used a variety of different styles and mixed realism with more cartoon like styles together. The consistent contrast between light and dark is representative of what non blind people see versus what blind people experience. The elements I used being all put into the same page can be very jarring and striking and that is exactly what I wanted to achieve for this as it is such a serious and fascinating topic that caught my eye and I wanted to do the same thing with my art based on it.

My use of tone in this postcard is extremely harsh to create the previously mentioned contrast. I did this with heavy inspiration from Daniel Egneus and the way he uses black and white in his work. I created new tones by changing the opacity of certain areas but at the heart of every part of this postcard there is a black beginning. I did this in pursuit of a minimal colour variation, although the rest of the aspects of this postcard are all maximal, using space to it’s utmost to create a piece of art which is multi-layered and contains many areas of interest. To do this I also included repeat patterns multiple times, in the faces and the type, so as to not overwhelm the card with too many different images but still fill the space and create different layers and variations in tone.

This second postcard is based on the article concerning Botox being a cure for depression. I used the space in a similar way to how I did in the previous postcard but this time my layers were all made of smaller objects and therefore I didn’t use the opacity as much to make things visible and instead placed things in a way which meant what each part is is obvious. The space is filled and I used needles and faces to create a frame around the outside of the postcard. The way I have used space and filled it is an attempt to communicate that there is many things in this headline which need addressing and Therefore I have to use as much of the space as I have available to me.

I used a limited colour palette in this, inspired by some of Linda Zacks’ work, and I made the entire background a pale orange, to match with the rest of the elements of colour within it in hopes of achieving an almost monotone piece. The colour orange is to represent the colour of some needles and it worked very well as it also matched the hands that I took from my collage. The bright orange compliments the muted orange very nicely and helps to inform my concept. The colour orange also links to plastic surgeries and body modifications in general as it is a colour commonly associated with fake tan.

My use of lines are very sketch like and imperfect, which contrasts with the actual message of the postcard, since Botox is meant to fix imperfections and fine lines. I also positioned some faces in a line down the side of the page. These sad faces are to represent the depression element of the article and to draw away from the idea that this is just a piece regarding Botox, I also added lines of text linking to the depression part to further link away from it, since I have plenty of imagery to discuss Botox but not any to discuss depression. The repeat pattern also has implications of how vast a number of people are affected by depression and how it is something which people are desperate to treat.

All of the forms in this piece are very simplified, except for the needles which the hands are hold that are actually a collaged part of the composition. By producing lots of simple images in this way I have stripped the piece of all complications and reduced everything down to the bare essentials I really highlight the areas which are important to the piece. The person being central with the silhouettes of the needles going into their face does an effective job of displaying their importance to the narrative of the post card. The forms of the hands are very abstract and outstretched which is exaggerated to imply to the viewer that the hands are trying to reach the face. The abstract and simple hands contrast the needles they are holding which draws attention to the needles and makes them a focal point of the piece.

Texture was created when I accidentally teared the screen print but it worked as an interesting texture in this piece and the texture on the central screen print acts as a form of expression that the face is being modified and the needles are having an affect on it. The texture juxtaposes the smoothness of the hands which are holding the needs and this further implies that the face has had something done to it as the hands are seemingly normal and unaffected. The texture of the rough edges of the needles drawn in fineliner which are at the side and bottom of the piece carry the message to the viewer that the affects of Botox can be rough and damaging. This connotes that people with depression are willing to try anything to get rid of their illness due to the harsh symptoms they have to live with on a daily basis.

The way this piece moves is to the centre of the page to the face, as all the needles and other areas of the page intercept it and interact with it. This is to create a feeling that the needles are piercing through the person’s face and treating them for depression. My use of movement and a spiral like flow through the page was inspired by Meg Hitchcock who uses her type to create the flows through her page, so I thought I would try to create a similar flow using all the pieces of my composition.

The piece above is about robots showing human emotions. I used the negative space heavily in this piece and filled it with imagery of some type that adds context to the rest of the page. The dark, grain texture in the negative space can give the illusion that the robot profile is lifted from the background and creates depth in the background. This is to ensure that there is no question about what part of this composition is most important when discussing the chosen narrative. I have also densely filled the space inside the head with a dense repeated pattern which display the importance of the type that is creating the pattern as it is said multiple times and as many times as possible so the viewer has the words thoroughly enforced.

The colours I chose in this piece are complimentary colours as I wanted contrast between certain parts of it. I made the type in the head orange which contrasts the blue and has implications that it is out of place where it is and constructs the narrative that these feelings aren’t where they should be. I also made the Robot very pale in comparison to the background as this makes it stand apart from it even more and also breaks the monotonous darkness of the background with a bright area of light. My use of a dark background and a light character was inspired by the way that Daniel Egneus would fill areas of his background in with black to make the lighter shapes stand out more.

All of the lines in the positive space are very straight and controlled with sharp edges and purposeful placement. This placement was something which May Xiong inspired me to do as the geometric shapes in her work are all very carefully placed and also I felt these shapes and patterns would relate to the careful way in which a robot of any form of artificial intelligence is made. There is a lot of contrast in the lines in the foreground and the lines in the background which implies that the background could be portraying some type of malfunction due to it not being the clean cut example of what AI should be.

The form of the face is very human like, only being slightly manipulated to create some new angles and shapes which aren’t normally there, as a way to add an idea to the which discusses how similar robots are getting to humans, and how even though these human like objects can show emotions it doesn’t make them sentient. I also made the face lack in distinguishable features which humans have, for example eyes, to display a narrative that all these robots are the same and have no personality do to them being made the exact same way each time and not being able to develop their own opinions or thoughts.

Unlike the other pieces in this postcard series this particular one only contains two definable layers, the background and the foreground. I therefore chose to scale up the feature of the profile in the foreground and make it much larger than any other element of any of the other postcards. This works in favour of the narrative and helps to make it very clear what the story of the piece is without confusion or adding many parts to it which may not be as relevant as that piece. I also made the type get bigger from the top of the brain to the bottom as though the thoughts were becoming more clear as they were developed.

I created a realistic silhouette for the face but filled it with a texture and a colour which skews away from realism to create a slightly more abstract outcome. By creating the face in this way and using the collaging technique with smooth paper I construct a new texture for the skin which draws away from the human elements of the face and could imply something being almost human but not entirely. The fact that the space is still human makes parallels between the human side of this article and the robotic and technological side of it, which informs the viewer of the importance of both. The geometric pattern created with the collage in the face also separates the face from a human like texture, with the shapes being very sharp and unnatural. This connects the human side of the story to the robotic and technological side as it is using an unnatural thing to create a natural form.

This piece is based on my article which is about a brain implant to connect people to social media. I have used the space in this to make the page as full as possible, which is important to my concept as it can represent the concerns of the experiment and how the implant would access all the data in your brain, which there is a lot of, possible ending up with an abundance of different data being shared which the person didn’t want to share. The amount of layers used in the small space given relates the viewer to the many layers they have in their own brain and how some they may want to keep hidden, hence why some objects are obscured and some type is slightly unreadable.

Many of the colours in this are very muted, so I created one large pop of colour in the top layer of images. Peter Bankov inspired me to work in this way as he commonly uses large blocks of colour with images overlaid and an off white background as I have here. The choice of green as the main colour was made as green is a colour I associate with dystopian and sci fi films, which this story makes me feel as though I am a part of due to it being such a huge drastic step in technology that seems completely unnecessary but is definitely something people would buy into. It also compliments the muted greens seen in the collage cuttings and and makes the whole piece cohesive instead of adding some new colour which may have disrupted the flow and continuity of the layers in the page.

I have used many styles of lines in this piece. The bolder lines and the stripes of green in the background were also inspired by Peter Bankov and are there to indicate the side to this story which is very futuristic and therefore contains bold lines and clear cut shapes. The more rough lines and unreadable type are to represent the issues with the technology that has been created, that being that the brain could be hacked in a similar way to how our computers are at the moment, therefore the mark making in the word “hacked” is very rough and scratchy, like a glitch in the system. The layers of lines and marks can also be reminiscent of the windows and tabs we seen on a computer, further linking to the computerised and technological aspect of the article.

I have created the form of a person in a grain texture by using the threshold application and I have duplicated her to create a balance between the top and the bottom of the page. The reason I have edited the form in this way is to connect the technology and the human sides of this article together. The way the form is built up makes the human look digital and melded together with technology. This works to reinforce the “cyborg” imagery and metaphor which I am pushing forward in this piece. I also included the from of a phone just behind the woman’s head as though the phone is coming out of it and connected ot it in some way. The phone is very old fashioned but simplified in design, contrasting with the rest of the imagery.

I used a variety of textures in this composition to represent both sides to the story. Grainy textures and lighter opacities were used in an attempt to show the issues with this product, such as the idea of a glitch in your brain (causing graininess) and the opacity creating a sense of transparency, which is there to show how this product could make your brain something anyone had access to. On the other hand, the smooth textures and sharp lines show the things which are right with this invention, and how it is a new and shiny piece if technology to be developed onto in the future. The reason I considered using texture in this way is because I saw it as a very prominent thing within Linda Zacks’ work and hoped it could bring a similar outcome into my own piece.

This piece doesn’t contain much contrast in tone but the one stand out figure of a human helps to highlight the key ideas of the narrative. Texture is where contrast happens most with grainy layers being on top of smooth colours. I should have made some areas darker than they are to avoid the completely mid tone look I ended up with but the look does fit with the article as this invention is a grey area when it comes to technology, with it being difficult to see if the bad is outweighing the good and whether the bad can even be fixed.

I didn’t opt for realism in this piece due to the entire concept seeming very unreal and dystopic to me, but I did make it as maximal as I could to enforce ideas of the brain and how many thoughts could be on display if this product was to be used on a human being. 

[the-time-trapper-blog]

’When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.’

An inquiring shoot with LomoChrome Purple. 

The line above is taken from the poem “Warning” by Jenny Joseph.

My current obsession with shooting black & white Infrared turned naturally towards colour.  Real colour infrared film, if you can find any, is seriously expensive.  Lomochrome Purple, a film sold by Lomography is a worthy substitute and can be used without special filters, red marks on lenses and a decent calculator of light. 

The following photos were shot at Salmon Ponds, in Tasmania, on a stinking hot day.  Lomochrome Purple can be shot at 100, 200 or 400 ASA - I chose 100 as the afternoon was really bright.  Actually the conditions for taking photographs could have hardly been worse, but as I was also shooting pinhole and infrared, (yes I was hauling 3 cameras around) bright and shiny was exactly what was required.

My camera of choice was a Minolta A7 with a Tokina 19-35 autofocus lens.  This lens....well it’s a cheapo and it shows.  Not a single image on the roll was sharp.  I deliberately chose autofocus because my eyes have been letting me down, fooling me into thinking I’m seeing a sharp image when in reality it’s a fuzzy mess.

Good thing I’m not adverse to the odd fuzzy mess, but sometimes it’s not appropriate.  Fortunately in this situation the lack of sharpness isn’t a problem for me.

While the purple trees are trippy - I’m loving that cyan water!

The roll takes 36 frames, there were more than these that I liked, but let’s not get boring.  

I developed these at home using Tetenal C-41 chems and they came out really grainy.  I don’t know if this is how the film is, or if it was my processing as it’s the first roll I’ve shot.  I have a 120 roll of this stuff languishing in the fridge, so hopefully the next time I’ll get it right.  

[lucifer-in]

What You Gave Me

If you feel like suffering (like I did), feel free to stare at this incredible picture of a snowy forest and listen to this breath-taking song. In combination, these two made me cry while writing *sigh*

You can also find it here on Ao3.

Late, cold sunlight poured through the endless number of trees, illuminating the branches and the miniature snowflakes drifting in the air so that the beautiful alley seemed to be made of crystal. The path had been walked on by someone or several someones, heavy footsteps and traces of wheels clearly visible in the ankle-deep snow. The soft afternoon wind rustled the twigs, tiny invisible somethings shuffled and dug in the bushes and far, far up above, an owl was hooting.

Harry sighed. That and the fact the he was leaning against a broad tree trunk, the back of his head resting against the rough bark, seemed to be taken as an insult by the forest. An average amount of snow fluttered down onto his face, covering his glasses and easily finding its way into his lungs through his nose and mouth. He coughed and spluttered, gasping for something to breathe, other than frozen water.

“Brilliant,” he choked.

“Best day of my life.”

Auror training had brought them out here, into the rather domesticated wild. An unbelievably beautiful, almost fairytale-like forest stretched frostily and secretively around them, unwilling to share its mysteries and treasures with just anybody who dared to trot its paths. But if you knew where, and HOW, to look, and the longer you’d stay, you’d be able to find such dazzling places and corners like the one Harry had just happened to stumble upon.

The other aurors had packed their stuff and were now trudging back the way they had come, back towards the little inn they had intended to use for night quarters. Harry had somehow managed to lose them, fully on purpose, desperately needing to be alone and just breathe. The latter, as he had just experienced, would be denied him as well.

His lungs took their time to decide to be merciful with him and allow him to make use of all the crisp, almost glass-sharp oxygen around him again. He stared blankly at the shadows of the trees, his eyes red and puffy and his nose streaming. He wiped angrily at his face. Damned coughing. Fucking snowflakes. Merlin-damned eyes.

He just couldn’t shake it off. Because there it was, right in front of him. A tiny boy, running along the path, screaming and giggling and kicking up snow with his small feet again and again, his glasses and clothes still too big, his face red and his unruly hair almost one with his huge fuzzy Gryffindor-coloured scarf. He seemed to be having the time of his life. Behind him, a man and a woman were trying to keep up, visibly lacking the energy the boy, who looked like a small version of them, was putting in his jumping and running and laughing. He fell over, right in front of Harry’s tree.

“Careful, honey! If you hit your head, you’ll end up like Uncle Sirius!”

“I am so going to tell him you said that,” the woman laughed, quickly running the rest of the way and worriedly kneeling next to the boy who seemed rather confused than hurt. Harry could see him clearly now, his huge green eyes the same as his mother’s, his hair like his father’s.

“Please, love, don’t! I thought you liked me alive!”

When he too arrived at the boy’s side, his pleading eyes made the woman laugh again.

“I never knew you were so afraid of a Black, Potter!”

She gently pulled the little boy to his feet again and brushed the snow off his coat and face.

“Are you okay, Harry?”

The boy nodded and smiled. “I think I saw a squirrel, mum!” His voice was an excited whisper.

“That’s rare, dear, those little fellows should be asleep by now.” The man lovingly ruffled tiny Harry’s hair. “I think we should head back now. The sun is fading, it will be starting to get cold soon. Come on, Harry, do you want to ride on my shoulders?”

The boy gave a delighted squeal and jumped at his father, who lifted him up easily.

The little family turned around, the woman’s hand now secured in the man’s, walking back along the glittering and crackling snowy path. From where he stood, Harry could hear the tiny boy’s chatter and the man’s and woman’s laughter for a long time. He mopped at his face again with his sleeve. Whatever must be melting on his head, it didn’t seem prone to stop creating little rivulets that were forcing their wet tracks down his cheeks. A first strangled sob escaped his tight throat, his lungs now burning from something else besides close-to-asphyxiation-by-snow.

Watching the family, his family, leave, broke him again, for the umpteenth time. The way having to leave after each visit of the Mirror of Erised had, the way having to draw back out of Snape’s memories of his father and mother had, the way having to watch so many of his friends die had.

He hated it all. Everybody. Why was anybody even allowed to be happy when there was so much wrong in the world? What had he done that he didn’t deserve to be one of the aurors talking about their families’ plans for Christmas and complaining about how they wanted to throttle certain relatives each Christmas dinner for their obnoxious beliefs and outrageous refusal to support Puddlemere United? Why had fate let Voldemort take his family? And what had he done wrong, as a baby, to have to be punished with surviving? Why not let him die, too, and be with his family?

He slowly slid down along the tree, no longer willing to stand. The snow felt powdery and icy when his hands touched the ground.

When he heard a small noise behind him, he couldn’t have said for how long he had been sitting there. His legs were completely numb, and his clothes sodden with melting snow. His hands didn’t obey him when he tried to raise them to quickly wipe his eyes, again, beneath his glasses. The wand he had been toying with absent-mindedly seemed to be frozen to his fingerless gloves. The shadows of the trees had shifted quite a few inches to the right.

“Would you be so kind to explain to me why you made me come back all the way to pick you up from whatever Salazar-damned path you have been stupid enough to get lost on??”

The voice was angry, annoyed, spitting out each word as if speaking was as big an effort as, apparently, being presumptuous enough to walk around the forest at late afternoon, alone, to find Harry, instead of letting him enjoy the first of so many more memories with his family that were yet to come.

“Potter, I am talking to you, have your ears frozen shut? What are you even doing here, are you crazy to sit down in the snow, you will get pneumonia or frostbites, or pneumonia AND frostbites. Come on, up with you, you dense – Potter?”

The voice was now crouching next to him, belonging to a pair of silver eyes that Harry could see in his peripheral vision widen in confusion, then disbelief, then shock.

“Harry –”

A hand was placed on his icy shoulder that he almost didn’t feel. Freezing might prove an unexpected solution to his problem, Harry thought, his mind all hazy and fogged by the cold. At least, as soon as the cold would take pity on him and put not only his limbs, but also his heart to sleep. He didn’t turn his head. He didn’t move. What for?

“Harry?? Can you hear me? What are you – what is this? Are you okay? Why are you –”

Warm fingers brushed over his wet cheek.

“Merlin, you are ice cold. What were you thinking??”

The voice was now sounding afraid, pained even. Harry heard a few mumbled words, then an odd, unwelcomed warmth spread around him.

“I didn’t notice we had lost you at first because I thought.. I don’t know what I thought. I should have looked for you way earlier. Harry, please, can you say something? Did someone… hex you or something? Was it one of the other aurors? I am going to kill whoever –”

Harry closed his eyes and chuckled inwardly. Draco was another of those curses he was apparently blessed with for life. He just couldn’t leave him alone. Wherever he went throughout his life, Draco would already be there, annoying him with his family’s history, his riches, and his face and demeanour in general. He just couldn’t stop begrudging Harry anything, not even this.

“Malfoy.” His voice sounded far away, low, hoarse, unused, and felt as cold as the rest of him. “I bet you want to be home for Christmas, don’t you? Your mother will be waiting for you. Please, do not mind me here. I will not be missed by anyone.”

“What are you talking about?” Draco’s voice sounded incredulous now, as if he was considering whether Harry might have lost his mind. “Why would you.. here? What are you even doing here? And what is that nonsense about not being m –”

His hand had grabbed Harry’s chin and turned his face around. When their eyes locked, Harry felt a presence come over him, like a tentatively outstretched hand, gently, carefully, trying to dispel the haze around Harry’s thoughts. He didn’t mind. Someone else spooking around his mind wasn’t exactly new to him, and he was far too tired now to even think of raising his mental barricades.

Just when he wanted to give in and let Draco have his way with his thoughts and memories, his eyes closing slowly, he saw Draco’s eyes widen again in.. fear? Understanding? Agony?

“Harry, what.. WHY?”

“Draco, listen. Because I’m tired, and it’s long overdue. Because this Christmas will be as every other. Everyone will be happy, and I will be alone in the end. Because it’s MY choice and my only way to see my family again. Because.. of that. Because –” His eyes had slipped shut by now. He was so close to falling asleep. If he could only distract Draco a little bit longer..

He didn’t even hear the bang of Draco Apparating.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 The air smelled clean and woody. The sun was just rising, ghosting its white winter light over the feet of the trees, touching their tops just so. Fresh snow had covered the footprints on the path overnight, and a few left snowflakes were dancing on the fresh breeze. The only sound Harry could hear was a soft breathing. He smiled. How incredibly peaceful the world seemed. And how perfectly content he felt, looking out over the same alley he had exactly one year ago, feeling nothing but a huge void inside of him then.

A slight shivering next to him pulled him out of his thoughts. He watched silently as Draco slowly gained consciousness, his breaths becoming irregular, his body stirring minutely, his eyelids fluttering. Those gorgeous, almost translucent lashes flickering, the elegant nose twitching, those breath-taking lips parting only a bit. He raised a hand to gently brush away some stray white blond hair from Draco’s forehead. Draco’s fingers shot up, only ever so lightly encircling his wrist.

“Will you close the fucking tent flap, Potter, or so help me. I am freezing. All of my fabulous warming charms, and for nothing.” He groaned, eyes still closed.

But Harry just laughed, leaning forward quickly, using the grip of Draco’s hand on his wrist to pin him down gently with his own arm, and touched his lips softly to Draco’s mouth.

“Shut up, Malfoy, will you. You are ruining the Christmas magic with your whining.”

Draco’s lips were warm and pliant under his, Draco’s fingers letting go of Harry’s wrist and tentatively braiding themselves into Harry’s.

“What Christmas magic, Harry, we are in some Merlin-damned forest in a fucking tent with a temperature of get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here. How Christmas-y can one feel here, huh?” His eyes were still half-closed, his gaze hazy and so fond, and the way he said those words.. sweetly and quietly and conveying a whole lot more than just that, a whole world promised. It made Harry grin and smile and blush and his breath hitch and his heart race wildly and his eyes crinkle softly and his fingers twitch in Draco’s and his body feel so warm and his whole being so full, all at the same time.

This, here, had actually been Draco’s idea. A fucking, bloody freezing tent. Draco was bearing with sleeping in a tent, on an air mattress, by his own choice, just for Harry. Hell must have frozen over. Huh, frozen. Funny.

Without lowering his wand, he kissed Draco again, this time longer and a little bit more insistent. He needed the tent flap to stay open to burn the view over the snowy path into his memory, this time not featuring an imaginary family, but his real one.

“You are my Christmas miracle, you git, so forgive me when I feel as Christmas-y as one of Santa’s house elves on Christmas Eve. Please, do make an effort and have a look outside, the forest is as beautiful as ever. Or maybe even more beautiful today, because you’re in it.” He smiled when Draco’s eyes opened widely, staring at him with a mixture of are-you-fucking-kidding-me-what-about-the-fucking-forest and silent, breathless, loving adoration at Harry’s words. Without another word, he carefully turned beneath Harry’s arm, gently lifting it to keep their fingers entwined, and looked outside.

“The forest has always been this beautiful,” he whispered, almost shyly, and leaned into Harry’s warm body. “You just didn’t see it..”

“Yes,” Harry breathed, his mind and heart blown away by the incredible snowy picture in front of them, and the heavenly feeling of Draco so close to him, with him, his. “And I’m so sorry. And so glad you helped me understand.” He softly kissed the white blond hair on top of Draco’s head. “Thank you.”

“What for,” Draco smiled against Harry’s cheek, dreamily half-gazing out into the snow, half-watching the slow, gentle play of their fingers. “I haven’t even given you your Christmas present yet.”

“You have no idea, Draco,” Harry whispered and hid his smile in Draco’s hair, “what you already gave me.”

[taurus-annie-main]

Continuum

Time travelling + Angst 

The first day Chanyeol finds out he can manipulate time is in primary school. 

The day begins normal, like all days in the park household. Normal meant that he'd wake up to the faint burning of the waffles - not the homemade, they weren't that type of family - and the sounds of his mother and sister barking at each other, then the raucous of laughter as they ended up coming together as they threw loving jibes at him.

With the clock chiming at eight o'clock, he'd slip on his blue coat and wear his Bob the Builder rainboots if the weather permitted it. But along the way to school, he remembers the Red Razzer, the car he'd been dying to show to his new friend, Kim Jongdae. So, stubborn as ever, he had a tantrum in the middle of the street, making his mother roll her eyes.

"What is it?" she asks.

"My turbo car. I left it on the table!"

He'd been dying to show new boy Jongdae the car. During recess, they talked about their favourite shows when Jongdae mentioned Turbo Cars, and Chanyeol couldn't believe that off all people in the class, new boy Jongdae also liked Turbo cars, and better yet, Jongdae had Yellow Raiser, the truck like car. So, before his mum had tucked him into bed, Chanyeol made sure to find the Red Razzer and put on the dining table so he wouldn't forget. However, in the frenzied rush of the morning, Chanyeol had completely forgotten about the toy.

Pulling a face, his mother shook her head, "ahh, we can't go back now doll. We'll be late. Ms Kim won't be happy if you're late again."

Bulging his already big eyes out further, Chanyeol said, "B-but I really really really need to show it to Jongdae."

Fearing the possibility of Chanyeol being late twice this week, she quickened her pace. "Listen doll, we can't go back. You can show what's his name your car tomorrow."

"But, but, mummy!" He pleaded. "Jongdae wants to play with it."

"Park Chanyeol, I'm saying no and it's final."

As she tugged the petulant child away, Chanyeol felt a surge of tears fighting its way to his cheeks. Before his brother left for the army, he'd told him boys shouldn't cry, but he couldn't hold it anymore.

With the tears burning hot on his face, bam, a white light surrounded him. At first, It was hot and blinding, like the sun, but then it swept him off his feet. Now he was floating, like a dandelion in wind. Was almost like he was jumping on clouds.

"Chanyeol," the voice repeats itself, growing louder as it closes in.

"Oinkster. Wake up!" the sharp flick on his forehead springs him straight up. He blinks and rubs his eyes till the image of his sister staring at him through her thick frames becomes clear.

What was Yoora doing? He looks around, its fuzzy but he can make out the cookie monster toy, so he was certainly in his room

"Huh?" he says as feels the bed for the familiar bump of glasses. "Yoora...w-whats going on?"

"Wake up," She says, bouncing out his room in the beat of those weird boy bands. "Mum made waffles!"

The waffles are the bottom of his very short list of worries. He knows something is wrong, and his tummy feels like it's doing fifty thousand swoops. He swore one blink ago his eyes were looking out across into the street, the trees looked kind of blurry and his was holding his mother's hand. A normal morning and he'd been wearing the blue rain coat and in his hand was...no, it wasn't in his hands. He'd left the red razzer.

With the red razzer ad jingle running through his mind, he leaps off the bed, ignoring the uniform his mum had set out. He dives straight onto the floor, lifts the covers up and it's not there. Blaming it on the darkness, he shoves his hand out and runs his hand across the floor. He comes are across crumpled paper, shoelaces, colour marker, anything but the sleek exterior of Red Razzer.

Odd, he thinks.

He walks out his room and down into the kitchen feeling though he was alien. His outer body experience is quickly forgotten the moment the scent of waffles greet him.

"Are you gonna eat that?" Yoora asks, pointing towards the plate of waffles his mum had set aside.

"Obviously," He says, grabbing a waffle.

"Chanyeol, eat with the cutlery, not with your hands!" His mother jabs in, shaking her head as she scrapes the burnt parts of the toast into the bin. Why she did that? Chanyeol would never know, it still tasted like burnt toast no matter how much butter she slathered on it.

Yoora doesn't miss a beat, "He's a pig, it's only natural."

"Yoora, how many times have I told you not to call your brother a pig? It's not good for someone so young to be hearing insults on a day to day basis."

"I'm not young," Chanyeol says, between large bites of his waffle.

"You're eight."

"And?"

Yoora has her hand in the air, ready to let the waffle in her hand ricochet of Chanyeol's head. But before any of the Park siblings could do any last damaging, their mother's  sharp glare and the promise of punishment makes all threats go poof.

Yoora drops her hand, and Chanyeol sits back down.

"Thank you." His mother sighs, "Chanyeol eat your food and get dressed. Yoora, I'm sure your bus arrives in ten minutes, so yeah."

The familiar ramblings and loud noises retenter the Park household as everyone gets ready to leave. Chanyeol has his uniform on, and his blue raincoat on since it's been rainy season for a while.

"You ready?" His mother asks as she slides into her own jacket.

Brushing away the middle part his mother had made, Chanyeol nods, he's been called a nerd far too many times for him to ever leave the house in that hairstyle again. "Yep."

"You need to stop doing that to your hair," She reaches out to fix the unruly mess but he quickly dodges her hand. "You'll be going to school looking a right mess!"

On the subject of school, Chanyeol suddenly remembers something. That something being the Red Razzer. If the events that had occurred was a dream, then surely it's the same day in which in he promised to bring in his Red Razzer for Jongdae to see.

"Mum, have you seen my Red Razzer?" He asks.

"That old thing? It's under the coffee table."

His mother pesters him about leaving his stuff lying around, but he's already bounding to the living room. He finds the sleek car exactly where his mother said it would be, but he still couldn't shake off the thought he's most certainly put it somewhere he knew the night before.

With a final sweeping of his hair, Chanyeol and his mother are out the door. With time to spare for the first time in long while. Because of this, they decide to take the longer route, it's prettier than the route they take when they know they've only got five minutes left to get to school. The nicer route consists of a picturesque park that's dotted with Willows, there's also the pretty flower shop and the pet store.

His mind had been focused on the thought of a kitten when his mum had stopped in her track, causing him to bump into her back.

"I don't think we should go that way doll," there was a shakiness in her voice that piques Chanyeol's curiosity "Don't look. Let's go the other way."

"What is it?" His ears pick on a dull and repeating tune. No, it wasn't a tune, it was sirens. Not the police ones, the ambulance ones. He's watched a lot of those doctor dramas Yoora loves so he knows for sure that it's an ambulance one.

He squints his eyes because his vision is kind of blurry. He can make out the neon yellow van. A car that stopped in the middle of the road, and there are people coming out from their houses wrapped in pj's and blankets.

Frustrated by his lack of vision, he breaks free from his mother's hands and runs up the street. As he gets closer, the faces of the people become clear. He recognises one a lady, but he can't put his finger on it. She's crying the most, and her husband or someone is hugging her.

His steps slow down. Then he sees something yellow and plastic. A car, but he knows that car from anywhere. Yellow Raiser.

The lady, she's the one that picked Jongdae up when school ended.

The last thing he sees before his mother pulls him back is a gurney. The lump under the sheet is small like him, and the person has black hair, like Jongdae.

"Chanyeol!" you shoved him. "Wake up!"

He jolted up and scanned the room, "was I asleep?"

"What do you think? Of course, you were asleep," you said.

"Why'd you let me sleep?" he said, running a hand through his hair as though it'll make him forget the memories of his dream. "What chapter were you on?"

"Sorry for not being the dictator of sleep, I thought you needed it," you said. "And we're on chapter six."

A/N

shout out to this fic that I started last year and never finish :)

[letitrainletitsnowbutdontletmego]

Finally - Chapter 4: The Voights

aka: 9 times Jay tries to win Voight over (intentionally and not so intentionally) and the 1 time he doesn't need to.

Also on ff.net and AO3.

Many, many thanks to @justkillingtimewhileiwait for all of her help, listening to me bounce ideas off her, ramble on about what I wanted to write and mostly, the beta-ing. You are awesome! :) 

Erin smiled as Olive excused herself for a brief nap, stating she couldn't remember the last time she had had so many people around to keep Danny entertained for long enough for her to have a break. The two of them were in town for a brief visit so the little boy was able to reconnect with his family; something Erin was glad for. Danny was their last link to Justin, and even though she understood Olive's reason to leave Chicago, she couldn't help the relief she had felt when she had heard they were coming back for a visit.

The two of them had been in the kitchen, sharing small talk over a cup of coffee whilst Danny was being entertained by Jay and Voight in the front room. Or rather the other way around, from the sounds of it. The one-and-a-half-year-old was so full of life and energy that it was amazing they had managed to keep him in one place. Erin had barely had enough time for a cuddle before he began wriggling to get down. Luckily, Voight had been prepared, having stocked up on some toys for the toddler. And that was before Erin and Jay had added the presents they had brought for the little boy.

Footsteps approaching the kitchen broke Erin out of her thoughts, standing to refill her cup with some more coffee just as Voight entered the room. Coffee at the Voights always tasted better, linked to her memories of a teenager finally finding herself a family who cared about her. She still drank it from the same mug as she had used since she was 16, living permanently in the cupboard there with its scratches, chips and faded colouring.

"Your boyfriend is hogging my grandson," he growled in frustration, making her laugh silently.

"Give him a break, Hank. Danny loves him," she replied with a shake of her head and pouring him a cup without asking. Taking both to the table, she slid back into her chair and pushed the other mug towards the seat next to her at the head of the table where Voight usually sat. "Aren't you happy that he has more and more people in his life to look out for him and guide him? A family?"

"Just because he's family at work doesn't mean he needs to be at home," he retorted even as he took the seat and the cup of coffee.

Erin rolled her eyes good-naturedly, hiding her smile behind her cup as she sipped it as she tried to bring up a topic she had meaning to do so for a little while now. It wasn't that she was scared to, but rather that she didn't want either of the men involved to feel like she was undermining them. Though she figured she knew them both well enough to know when she could put Voight in his place and when Jay's stubbornness might cause more harm than good.

"Actually, as we're on the subject, can I talk to you about something?" she began, bringing her mug down and leaning back in her chair as she watched Voight eye her. A muscle ticked in his jaw which was telling enough for her to know that he was already wound up, though she truly had no idea why.

"Don't tell me Halstead knocked you up 'cause I can forgo the gun for him," he informed her, voice rough and low, yet still catching her off guard.

"Wow, okay, no. Very much not pregnant, thanks," Erin quickly corrected him, making sure her words were sharp enough to indicate that would be the end of that conversation until she mentioned it herself one day. "Also, never bring that up ever again. In case you've missed the past 15 odd years, I'm an adult now. You don't need to threaten my boyfriends anymore," she said, repeating what she had told him a few years previously when she and Jay had just started working together.

"You think I wouldn't hurt him if he hurt you?" he asked incredulous, almost as if her believing anything but that would be absolutely insane.

"I think I'd get there first," she answered, raising a brow challengingly. Voight smirked at her remark and nodded concededly. "Yeah, don't look so proud. But as I was saying; can you please lay off Jay a bit? I know you're still getting used to it but he's trying to actually be a part of this family, my family, like his have accepted me. But you're not really making it easy."

Voight shrugged carelessly, causing Erin to grit her teeth in annoyance at his lack of response. "What does it matter what I do? Clearly, what I think doesn't matter much to either one of you," he muttered, staring her down.

Sighing, she forced herself to relax and to keep her voice low, lest it carried down to the front room and alerted Jay. The sounds of a babbling toddler were punctuated by Jay's quiet murmurings, so she knew his attention was mostly with Danny, and the last thing she wanted to do was to ruin their day off, relaxing as a family, dysfunctional as it was.

"That's low, Hank," she finally said, quiet but meaningful. "In his defence, he wanted to tell you. It was me that didn't. He never wanted to sneak around your back. Would rather take what you dished out than to risk losing your respect."

"Had a funny way of showing it," Voight retorted dryly over the rim of his coffee cup.

"You're not exactly the warm and fuzzy type," she shot back before softly adding, "He's trying to earn your respect and friendship here. But if you keep knocking him down, you're gonna lose a lot more than just face. Because I know that's the only reason why you haven't given in and accepted him yet."

Voight scoffed but didn't refute her words and Erin took it as a win. That she was right in her observations and, for once, she had gotten through to him about her and Jay, and how he would eventually drive her away if he kept it up. "He's not as charming as he thinks he is,"

"Yeah, he is. And you know it," she laughed, curling her hands around the coffee mug, thumb swiping gently against the middle where her name was proudly displayed before having a drink.

The cup had been a present from Camille, not that the woman would allow it to be called as such, and the first brand new thing Erin remembered ever owning that was solely hers. Camille had seen it in the mall one day, not long after Erin had moved in with them, and bought it as it reminded her of their new foster daughter. Erin had been shocked by the gesture, accepting it with a snarky remark about not needed a mug to remind her of her name.

Voight had reprimanded her immediately, telling her to either apologise and thank Camille, or to never expect another gift again. Erin had stared him down for a moment until Camille had said it wasn't a present, just a necessity considering her love of coffee. Her earnest remark had made her feel guilty for her attitude and she had apologised and thanked her for the mug, making it a point to use it almost every day.

"Camille would kick your ass if she was here, you know that?" she stated, glancing up at Voight with a sorrowful smile.

"I have no doubts about that," he agreed immediately.

They fell into a small beat of silence, the sound of Danny's giggling and squealing interrupting the quiet every few seconds, joined by Jay's hushed words and a chuckle here and there. It was an odd thought, sitting in the house she had grown up with her father figure whilst her partner and boyfriend played with her nephew in the front room. It definitely wasn't an image she had ever thought would become a reality, especially not when she had first stepped into the house; 15, a junkie and a lot more worse for wear. That was before Voight and Camille's help, before she understood how families really worked and what love really looked like.

"She'd love him, right? Jay?" Erin asked suddenly and hesitantly, leaning forward onto the table and fiddling with the cup as she kept her eyes tracked on it, ensuring none of its contents spilt over the top. "I keep thinking about all those boys in high school, and the couple from the academy, and how she always use to tell me I could do better when we broke up. That I shouldn't worry about them, just be happy and things will fall into place when I least expected them to. That the perfect person was out there, and I would find them at some point. All that typical, cheesy, mom stuff." Smiling at the memory, she looked back up at Voight to see a somewhat similar look on his features too. "But with Jay, I dunno. She'd love him, I reckon. I just wish she could have met him. He would have won her over in a heartbeat. Probably love him more than the two of us."

"She'd love him if you did. All she ever wanted was for you to be happy," he replied earnestly, reaching out to lay a hand on her arm for a brief moment in a show of their solidarity in the grief that still lingered with every memory of Camille.

"I am. He's… everything. Everything she said he would be," she mused, a slow smile curving at her lips as she thought about everything Camille had promised she would find one day and how Jay was slowly ticking each and every one of those boxes. A grimace passed over Voight's features, quick and fleeting that she could have made it up if the way he purposely kept his mouth shut wasn't indication enough. "What?"

"I didn't say anything," he told her innocently.

"Ugh, how did she even put up with you? You're hopeless, you know that? Two years and you still can't even handle me talking about our relationship," Erin grumbled slightly petulantly, downing the rest of her coffee and pushing her chair back to get to her feet. "I'm going to go hang out with Jay and Danny. I'll probably get a more stimulating conversation out of them than you."

Voight's laugh followed her out of the room, replacing her annoyance with carefree fondness at the sound of it. Approaching the living room, Erin paused in the doorway for a moment, watching as Jay held Danny steadily on his lap with one arm whilst the other handed him the soft building blocks they were playing with. Coloured blocks littered the floor around them, and she could see Danny trying to stand each time Jay handed him a new one. But his light grip on him kept him sitting and she reckoned he had a reason for it.

The kid had attached himself to Jay almost as soon as they had arrived earlier that day. Voight had handed him over to Erin when she had asked for him, though that had only lasted a minute before Danny had turned his attention to the gifts they had bought. The fact that Jay was carrying them probably helped him get into the toddler's good books, who had barely let him go ever since. For almost three hours now.

Not that she was complaining, because seeing Jay playing with her nephew was rather adorable. She just sort of felt left out, and, if she admitted it to herself, a bit jealous.

Shaking her head, she pushed those thoughts away and entered the room. "What's going on here?" she asked, running her fingers through the hair at Jay's nape as she passed him and took a seat on the floor adjacent to him after clearing away the blocks with her feet.

"We are building a tower, aren't we, buddy?" Jay replied, handing Danny another block to add to the stack they were building. The boy took it happily, sticking it on top of the middle tower. Jay looked over at Erin with an easy smile and shrugged. "Or a rocket. I don't really know."

"Well, it looks great either way," she replied, tickling Danny when he looked over at her. He laughed adorably, holding his hands out towards her as she picked up a block. "Here you go, how about this one?"

"Over here," Jay directed once Danny took the toy, holding it for a moment as he stared at the piles in front of him. At Jay's prompting, he placed it right where he was told with ease even as he craned his head up to glance at him for affirmation. "Good boy. Looking awesome."

"You're good with kids," Erin stated after the same thing happened a couple more times, watching how Danny waited for Jay's encouragement and praise whenever he acted after being prompted. It might have been one of the most cutest things she had ever seen, and if she had her head on right, she might have videoed it. Instead, she just basked in the moment.

"I think it's the kid that's good with me," Jay laughed, hoisting Danny up to his feet, and in one smooth move, turning him to face him. "Hey, you want to go to Aunty Erin? There you go. Now you can jump on her all you like," he said cheekily, swinging the giggling boy over to Erin, and it was only thanks to her quick reflexes that she caught him in time.

"Oh, it's like that, is it?" she asked in amusement, watching as Danny began bouncing on her the second his feet landed on her thighs. It suddenly made sense why Jay had him sitting him and held there. The kid was small but he had a lot of energy, which all translated into a lot of forceful jumping.

Jay immediately stretched out his legs, loosening up his muscles from being sat in the same position for far too long. Leaning back on his hands, he tilted his head towards her and asked in forced casualness, "So, your dad looked like he was ready to go get the shotgun when he left the room. Should I be worried?"

"Nah, I managed to talk him down to a Glock," Erin taunted, glancing up at him from under her lashes as she played with Danny on her lap, holding onto his hands as he leaned back away from and she kept jerking him back to her chest, leading to him giggling endlessly each and every time.

"Erin…" he warned, unimpressed by her teasing and huffing when she merely smiled back.

"Aw, look at your Uncle Jay. He looks so worried, as if your Grandad would ever hurt him around his precious baby," she cooed softly, laughing as Danny laughed too, though they both knew he couldn't understand a word she had told him.

"Just to be clear; is the 'precious baby' Danny, or you?" Jay asked, pulling back and sitting up when she threw a block at his head. "Ow! Don't teach the kid violence, Erin! His genes have that taken care of."

"I can hear you, you know, Halstead," Voight's voice suddenly came from the kitchen, catching them both off guard. Whereas Erin laughed, Jay looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Nodding, he lowered his voice so he was certain Voight couldn't hear him as he told her his new plan to keep the other man from potentially shooting him. "Right, so this kid is coming with us. Maybe even staying with us indefinitely. I'm sure we could make space for Olive, too."

[groundbreaking-science]

1.2 Life, the World, and Genki (pt 2)

The river valley near Central City in optical light and ki.

6) I have to admit, I was going to leave out this explanation. I assumed it followed from previous discussion of animal ki, but my arm was twisted. I have drawn the grass nearby with a few brown spots in ki that are not visible otherwise, though this is laziness on my behalf - there should be many, many more. I am, of course, speaking of bugs and other usually reviled creepy crawlies.

My home in Satan City Age 797, with Goten (30) and Trunks (31) joined by Marron (26), the daughter of my father's closest friend and close friend to Goten and Trunks in her own right.

Gohan:  Are there any sides to ki people might not immediately think of? Trunks:  So not flying then? Goten:  Always the flying. Gonna be soooo many flat people when this book's released. Trunks:  Goten... Goten:  What? It's true! Gohan:  I'm adding disclaimers to the chapter. Trunks:  Good. I can swing you our lawyers if need be. Marron: Spiders. Trunks:  Come again? Marron:  An answer to the actual question? Spiders. Finding spiders. Goten:  Oh, here we go. Gohan:  Ah, I'll be covering ki-sense early. Marron:  Okay but that'll be about people and birds and lions and--   Trunks:  Lions?! Marron:  --Yeah cool animals - or cute dogs or something - no one ever talks about the bugs-- Goten: (laughing) Marron:  --stop laughing you reprobate this is your fault! Gohan: I think I know where you're going with this but for the camera can you explain? Marron:  Your delightful brother - I told you to stop - when we were little but he was old enough to know better, I was terrified of spiders. Scream-the-house-down-terrified. Trunks:  You weren't that bad. Marron:  I had nightmares! When I was just learning how to read ki, he thought it would be hilarious to play a game to test me. Goten: I was helping! Marron:  The game involved him finding random animals and asking me to guess what they were. Lizards, frogs, mice, all that. I can deal with that. Goten:  In my defence you were enjoying yourself - you said it was really fun. Marron:  I don't care what you claim I said! The point is, the last animal he got me was really tricky, and I spent ages feeling it out just, what the hell is that? Its ki was so sharp and mechanical, silent? Gaahhhh I'm creeping myself out just thinking-- Trunks:  What was it Mar, what was it? Tell the nice people-- Marron:  A TARANTULA. [[Goten and Trunks both laugh]] Marron:  You were tormenting a five-year-old! It's nothing to be proud of and that's not even the end of it. If at any point they both decided I was irritating them by merely existing they'd shout-- Goten:  FIVE! Trunks:  Six? Goten:  Oh yeah, SIX! Marron:  Oh my god you asses-- they'd shout The Number. Gohan: And that number is? Marron:  The number of spiders in the room. That freaking childhood trauma seared the ki signature of a spider into my brain to the point I can count them within moments of entering a room. They conditioned me to do it. And it is six. I hate you both so much and I. Hate. Spiders.

For those like Marron who have a... strong dislike... of spiders and such, sensing ki will confirm your worst fears. Sometimes ignorance is truly bliss. I don't remember learning to sense ki, the realisation of being able to sense scary things coming slowly or not registering within me enough to remember. The experience clearly stayed with Marron. For me the world has always looked like this (and just to confirm the old adage, 'you're never more than six feet away from a rat in a city' is near-enough true). An ant nest or beehive seems like a large fuzzy cluster of busy ki rather than any individuals particularly standing out. In other cases though if you are truly quiet and on alert, you can sense the movement and blunt intention of bugs. Predators like spiders do have the same sharp purpose as other carnivorous animals, but their ki is simple in the impression it leaves.

I don't find spider ki particularly intimidating and I think that is Marron's stark fear of them colouring her sense subconsciously. If you have a fear of any animal and especially a fear of bugs, I recommend spending a lot of time on this aspect of ki-sensing as you develop your technique. If your entire attention is taken up finding bugs around you to be fearful of and flinching at every movement you'll never progress. Still, this apprehension can be controlled and never bothers Marron in situations that require her full attention.

7) The fuzzy nature of ant nests is true of human cities, although human individuality is detectable. Central City itself is not visible from The Spot being some four hundred miles away. Nevertheless, it is still perfectly detectable and the subtle effect of the city can be sensed all across the globe. I've exaggerated the brightness a little, the combined aura of all the inhabitants being extremely faint at the distances I've painted it to. I've also included some of the turbulent structure detectable within ki. Ki in aura like this is not affected by the wind, the ki only very rarely interacting with the physical world around it. It is the intent a ki-user gives ki that will allow an interaction, but more in later chapters. The ki from the city therefore extends not as smoke blowing in the wind nor as a dome but as fat disk, extending equally upward into the atmosphere and downward into the earth, tapering off as it travels away from the city. There are denser regions as the ki swirls, pulled together not by the wind but more of its own meandering. The view of ki is not stopped by rocks on the surface either, impeded only by the ki of the plants on the hill close to me. As an aside, whilst ki sense is an enhancement to other senses, travelling using ki-sense alone in a completely dead local environment would be unwise. Without any ki signatures registering you will smack into inanimate objects. This is the reason we try to fight in remote areas if possible. We try to minimise loss of any form of life in this way yes, but in truth we want to have an unobstructed view of our opponent's ki.

8) From The Spot, West city is near 5,000km away, a fair distance. I've coloured the ki differently to represent the difference in feel of West City's ki. The true contrast wouldn't be stark enough to appear as a different species, but this illustration makes the distinction clearer. If anyone has visited both cities you'd find their reputation precedes them - West is on average far more brash and lively than the quiet, cultured and sophisticated Central. Their unique nature is reflected in the feelings of their ki and even in the turbulence - West city's ki is, on average at least, more erratic.

The ki of the city is still detectable and strong even at a distance (the population being larger by a factor of three than Central) but from my vantage point doesn't appear to extend as high in the atmosphere. In reality the ki is forming the same fat disc as Central City, but it appears sunk into the ground due to the curvature of the Earth. Trace the shape back to the centre of the ki impression and you will find ground-level in West City. The true lack of impedance caused by the non-living landscape means no matter where I am on Earth I can see these cities.

These large population centres then make navigation around the globe extremely simple for ki-users. I doubt any part of the planet is unfamiliar to me now, from high up enough at least, but I can always find my way home by triangulating the main cities and setting a course. Having a constant sense of the near-spherical nature of the planet is useful but somewhat strange, and can cause trouble.

I taught my wife Videl how to use and sense ki when we were sixteen. She took to the skill surprisingly quickly, though it was a number of years before her acuity in ki-sense grew consciously. A few days before our wedding I visited Videl's home to find her distracted, restless. She got worse and worse throughout the day, eventually settling on the couch stock-still, only flinching. Videl denied anything was wrong, saying it was nothing serious, and of course my paranoia feared the worst. She must have cold feet but was unable to tell me. I asked her father, Mr Satan, if he knew anything was wrong which started him panicking... This culminating in him drinking to steady his nerves, me compulsively drinking coffee, and the start of a joint idea to write a letter showing that I understood her decision. This morphed from a letter into a speech (the letter rendered unreadable by the caffeine-induced shaking of my hand) which I regaled to her at speed over dinner, Mr Satan interjecting sagely when I fumbled my lines. She stopped me halfway through (I suspect she was patient for as long as she could bear and thought I was near the end) asking where I had got the baffling idea she didn't want to marry me from. After I stammered a weak explanation she laughed - not unkindly - then admitted she should have been honest but was embarrassed.

After a confused description of her own we worked out she was having side-effects of ki sensing. It was severe vertigo induced by our friends Trunks and his father Vegeta in West City on the other side of the planet. She had always been able to vaguely sense our friends in West City, but this was the first time she'd been able to appreciate the distance. She felt every metre of that twelve thousand kilometres as though she was dangling helplessly over a bore-shaft through the centre of the Earth. It took Videl a week or so to overcome the sensation, it coming in waves. Though thankfully on the day of our wedding our friends were with us and so the vertigo lifted for a time!

9) It is not just Earth's population centres that can be useful to navigate by. Outside the Earth's atmosphere one can use stars with your eyes and other planets to orient yourself. I've highlighted planet New Namek here. I'll admit the planet wasn't in this direction when I was painting, this image painted in June and New Namek rising in daylight hours in the northern Autumn months instead. I hope you'll forgive inaccuracy for the the point I wish to illustrate. As one's ki-sense develops, sensitivity to intensity appears first before the ability to pinpoint position, then depth. With practise then, the faint glow in the sky of other planets will start to nag at your senses. At first it will feel like a blip in the atmosphere, maybe the weather. It's only when your ability to resolve the ki down to a blurry point will you resolve the planet along with it.

Your ki-sense is not limited by the power of the eye. I'm mildly farsighted but not that farsighted! Looking above at the planet I am able to resolve the townships on New Namek itself in ki. If I was looking for someone I knew well I may be able to lock onto them. Those with the greatest abilities could detect - and crucially pinpoint - a spider twitch from the other side of the Universe. (I'm sure one day that will be Marron readying for a crusade against them.) You may expect the underlying ki of Namekians to be distinctively different to Earthlings, they are alien after all. And that is true to an extent. Although, there are far more similarities than differences, reflecting both species' high socialisation and capacity to manipulate ki.

10) My final label you may expect, since I've been approximately moving from faintest to brightest, would be the largest source of ki in the scene. And at that particular moment you'd be correct. The blue ki signature is extremely bright and the same colour as New Namek for good reason. It is the ki signature of Piccolo, my kidnapper and first official teacher. Piccolo is not hidden in the grass here with the deer, but at Yunzebitto Heights in the North of the planet. We're viewing his ki signature right through the Earth. At the time I drew this he was training and his energy output was over a hundred times that of the entirety of New Namek. Namekians have retained their ki sense over the years and are on average many times stronger than a Earthling, however sadly there are only a few hundred Namekians left in the Universe. Piccolo's strength is impressive, his what we call 'power level' is elevated here, although even when not training his lower 'base' power level is still easily detectable for me. It was the strong power levels of Trunks and Vegeta that induced Videl's vertigo. We shall cover the raising and lowering of ki intensity in the next chapter.

Because of their elevated intensity I am constantly subconsciously attending to the ki signatures of friends and family. I always noticed whenever my father left the planet, or can detect the moment Pan suppresses her power ready to try and sneak up on me (I won't know when she was planning to ambush me or from where, but I'll be as ready as I can)! There is very little privacy amongst advanced ki-users, sadly. The ability to track and be tracked, even when unintended, is a fact of life for us and one of well-argued downsides of publishing this book. Imagine knowing from six hundred miles away your little brother is sneaking off to the city at night... and not phoning your mother like you promised you would? Sorry Mom, I lied. We are all co-conspirators of the worst kind.

So far I have spoken only of ki. The last of the labelled ki signatures in particular necessitates now making a distinction between different types of ki. From points 1-8 (and mostly 9) I was speaking of a type of ki known as 'genki'. This is ki generated from the body alone. Genki is literally 'life energy' itself. So far I have only discussed ki as life energy, so what's different between genki and other types? Most Earth-based ki-users never progressed beyond using their own body's ki, their genki, to marginally bolster their strength, and ki-sensing isn't dependent on the amount of ki one has. Thus ki was genki and no distinction was ever made. Only the most advanced users were able to harness greater strength beyond what would make sense from that great law of physics, "conservation of energy". It's only as we progress to modern day and power-levels have grown considerably that a distinction between the ability to use one's genki and the ability to amplify one's genki was necessary. This amplification (truthfully a conversion from genki into another form) is a skill to develop and a very important one to maintain.  

Confusingly, my friends and family never traditionally had a specific name for this converted ki, using 'ki' for both types and referring to genki when context wasn't sufficient. It is only recently that, from a fortuitous combination of attempting to teach Pan and Bra in a structured manner, Goten, Trunks and Gotenks needing to record notes for themselves and this research that precise terminology even begun to appear. Now if a specific term is needed we use "banoki" or "field ki" for the extra energy that breaks the laws of physics. The properties of field ki and genki do differ, which I will explain, along with the choice of the word "ba/field", towards the end of the chapter.

The kids (or 'kids' - gosh, Bra is the youngest and yet twenty-four years old now) have their own language and I've borrowed nearly all of their terminology for this textbook. I claimed it was so I could keep abreast of how Pan is training her students to support her, though in reality it was so I could keep up with what in the name Pan was talking about. Joining the kids on sorties can leave you lagging as they work as a terrifying unit, throwing around jargon-filled updates and commands that leave you dizzy. The increased terminology, although less accessible, allows for subtle distinctions to be made between techniques and more nuanced discussion than I had growing up. I was fortunate enough that Videl was an extremely gifted martial artist before I taught her how to use ki, and even then I taught her all backwards (rather dangerously teaching her to fly first). Now Pan has shown she can train novices extremely efficiently. "It's all about the grammar and vocab," she sings to students on their first session as she passes out notebooks and pens, far from the mystical adventure they were expecting.

You may want to start taking notes, too. We're going to learn some science next.

next previous first contents

[nandireya]

Simmering To a Boil

Saw a post about Allura pinning Keith to a wall...and this happened... It's a little spicy...but hardly NSFW. ______________________________________________________________________ Keith had wanted to be alone so he'd found the quietest corridor in the furthest part of the most disused part of the ship. He was staring out the large viewport, or rather, he was staring at his face reflected in it. He still found it hard to look at. Still found it hard to believe that it was his face. But, given the hideous transformations he'd gone through in his nightmares it could have been a lot worse. He still looked mostly human. Mostly... With a now clawed finger he traced one of the deep purple lines that started at the inner corner of his eye, followed the side of his nose before curving out over his cheek to meet the corner of his mouth. The overall look was highly reminiscent of the tear-tracks of a cheetah. The lilac spots of colour dotted about his face only added to the similarity to Earth's fastest feline. His ears now had a sharp point to them, more elfin than galran, though the lynx-like tufts at the tips were definitely more giant, purple murder cat than graceful immortal warrior. The teeth, which he absently prodded at with the tip of his tongue, had also become quite sharp, and were taking some getting used to. They hadn't really changed the sound of his voice, though there was a distinct growling quality to it now whenever he was angry or upset, which, truth be told, was most of the time. But he'd lost count of how many times he'd punctured his lip with the damn things! His eyes had remained mostly unchanged. The sclera had a slight yellowish tint to them, but otherwise they appeared the same greyish-violet they always had. They were more sensitive to light, however, which made for enhanced night vision, not a bad adaptation for the inky blackness of space, actually. In fact, all his senses had been heightened. Sight, hearing, smell, taste, even touch. He could identify his friends by scent alone now, by the way their feet touched the ground. They didn't seem to care about the change. 'I have to admit, you look pretty badass.' Lance had grinned, though Keith wasn't sure he wasn't quoting from one of his many favourite movies. He was sure he'd heard a line like that somewhere. Concerning some guy who had inadvertently turned himself into some kind of hairy monster. His ears pricked up as he heard footsteps approaching. He sniffed the air though it only confirmed what he'd already gleaned from the footfalls. Allura. She'd been avoiding him ever since...he'd started looking like this. It had hurt him more than he cared to admit. He thought she'd gotten over it, they had been becoming so close. REALLY close. He'd begun to feel in a way that he'd never felt before, in a way that his limited experience with females, or with others in general, failed to explain. He turned to look at her as she rounded the corner and came into view. She studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she moved faster than he'd have thought possible. She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the opposite wall of the corridor with such force it made his head spin. Or maybe that was from the way it had impacted with the wall. His feet scrambled for some kind of purchase but she was holding him at least half a meter off the ground. She held one of his arms above his head, the other she pressed against his chest, holding him firmly in place. He'd seen her do something similar to Ulaz. 'So this is how it's gonna be.' It took all his presence of mind not to bear his teeth at her. She leaned in close, dangerously close. He could feel her breath, so warm on his face, as she angled herself to whisper. "Do you have any idea what these ears are doing to me?" Her voice had been throaty...sultry...even...seductive...? "Princess?" He question. He had to be imagining it. His eyes widened and his body tensed as soft lips pressed against the mentioned facial feature. She continued to lay a trail of featherlight kissed from tip to lobe. His head lolled to the side as his body relaxed granting her better access to his jaw and neck which she happily took advantage of. A deep, reverberating rumbling began to vibrate through his chest. Was he purring? And she'd thought the ears had been the most appealing aspect of his change. She giggled but it didn't stop her tender machination to his neck. Keith threw his head back against the wall, partly in response to what Allura was doing to his neck, his jaw, his clavicle, any place she could reach from where she had him pinned to the wall really. Oh, back to the ear now. That was nice. He let out a low groan and felt his eyes roll back of their own accord, the reaction only seemed to encourage Allura to double her efforts. He threw his head back again. He had done that in an attempt to clear the warm fuzzies that were settling there. But he liked the warm fuzzies. They were so very warm. And so fuzzily fuzzy. He flexed the hand that she held trapped above both their heads. Damn she was strong. But he was no lightweight himself. Especially now. He might not be able to touch the ground, but that didn't mean he couldn't brace himself. He planted a foot against the wall behind him and kicked off. The motion threw Allura across the corridor to impact the wall beside the large viewport. Her face fell, she must be thinking his actions were a rejection. But only for the millisecond it took him to pounce. He wasn't rejecting her, he was just turning the tables. She gasped, out of surprise rather than fear, as sharp teeth dragged across her throat. She knew those teeth could easily rend her flesh if he so chose, but she wasn't afraid. This was Keith. Sweet, naive, innocent...well...maybe not so innocent considering the way his hands were beginning to roam. She tilted her head back as his mouth worked its way slowly up the column of her neck. She threaded her fingers through his hair as he moved along her jawline to her own pointed ear. She let out a deep, contented sigh. It seemed her ears were as sensitive as his were. Maybe more so. It was his turn to chuckle. She tightened her fingers in his hair, pulling him, a little reluctantly, from where he had been nuzzling her neck. She had a sudden compulsion to see his face. She reached out to cup it, stroking the tear-tracks gently with her thumbs. Pidge had told her that his markings resembled one of their homeworld's big cats, one known for its speed, which seemed so appropriate. And his ears were a proper shape now. But it was still his eyes that truly held her gaze. She was so glad that the change had barely touched them. In the dim light afforded from the stars outside it was impossible to even notice the slight yellowing in them at all. They were the same beautiful shade of violet they'd always been. Right now they were blinking slowly, looking at her while she was looking at him. On some mutual unspoken agreement they leaned towards each other. There was no teasing this time. No nuzzling, no toying with overly sensitive ears. Their lips met tentatively at first, neither of them had any experience at this kind of thing. But months of unspoken attraction, of burgeoning feelings they had refused to act upon due to their shared overdeveloped sense of duty, quickly erupted into a passion neither one knew they were capable of, which, given their similar fiery personalities, was really saying something. Allura wrapped her arms around his neck in an attempt to pull him even closer than he already was. He obliged as best he could, his arms coiling about her waist. She was beginning to feel light-headed, probably due to lack of oxygen, but she didn't want to break away, even to breathe. Then suddenly he was gone. She was sent actually spinning, coming to a stop in front of the view screen. Keith was standing a few steps away, breathing heavily, staring out at the stars. She was about to demand to know what the quiznak he was playing at when she heard Lance's voice. "And then I said-" "We know what you said, Lance." Hunk's voice answered patiently. "We were there." "And you've told this story at least half a dozen times now." Pidge snorted. "But it gets better every time I tell it." She glanced at him. His eyes had flicked to her for a moment before returning to the stars. He'd heard them coming. He had only broken the kiss to save them being caught in a compromising position. He glanced quickly at her again, running a hand through his hair when he did so. She reached up to touch her own hair finding it was a little tussled. She quickly smoothed it out. She noticed his was quite unruly as well, but it always was. She doubted they would notice anything amiss. "Princess." Lance greeted happily. "Fearless, Fuzzy Leader." He teased when he noticed Keith. "I am NOT fuzzy!" He snapped. Allura tried not to smile. She knew now from close, personal, physical contact that he actually kind of was. But she couldn't argue the point without exposing them so she kept quiet. "Where are you headed?" She asked instead. "Training room." Hunk told her. "Thought we'd get in a little target practice." "A workout sounds good." Keith agreed. "I think I'll join you too." Allura nodded. They had to do something to release the...energies...they'd just built up. "Well go suit up." Lance said. "We'll meet you down there." As the two boys walked off Pidge lingered, waiting until they were well out of earshot. She turned and studied the pair for a moment, pushing her glasses up her nose. "You know, Princess..." She began in a matter-of-factly tone. "You might want to consider a different shade of lipstick." She licked her thumb and ran the damp digit along her reluctant leader's jaw, like a mother cleaning up her dirty offspring. "This one really doesn't look good on Keith." With a grin she turned to follow the boys, leaving the flabbergasted possible couple behind.

[aarunomura]

MARGINAL#4 Index 1st Stage ~REVOLUTION!~ Chapter 6 - External★Galaxy (Translation)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

★ Please DO NOT re-translate or post this translation anywhere.

CHAPTER 6: External★Galaxy

As Universe FES is fast-approaching, our agency is also bustling with activity. Universe FES is where new talents from various agencies gather together. With the agency’s reputation at stake, I cannot be sloppy about my work.

(Umm, what was it that I needed to do after this?)

There are many things that I need to do.

(Ah, it’s almost time...)

Everyone’s dance lessons are just about over. Before they end, I want to see how much the boys have improved.

(They really do seem happy whenever I go to see them.)

As idols, they enjoy having everyone watch their performances. The four have said that it’s more motivating for them when I’m watching them compared to when it’s just them practising in silence. Ever since I heard that, I’ve been making an effort to watch them practise even if it’s only for the first or last few minutes.

(I have a rather hectic schedule, but if the four are happy, then I feel that I need to work hard.)

The four, who are entering the final stage in their preparations, seem to have it tough with dance and singing lessons, but I too am bombarded with work lately.

(Ah, right! I need to show them this.)

MARGINAL#4′s CD jacket design is complete. This jacket is a tour de force by Aru-kun. Just as I requested, it’s stylish and incorporates the imagery of stars and space. It’s also finished up with a not-too-subdued tint of colour. Things like the colour adjustments still need to be done so I can’t say that it’s perfect but... I’m sure they’ll be overjoyed if I show them it.

“Alright, I didn’t forget anything.”

I turn my eyes to the notes with the schedule and merchandise samples spread across the table. I need to return and continue with my work once I take a quick look of the four practising and have a quick chat to them. I stuffed the things that I was bringing along inside my bag and left the room.

☆★☆

When they noticed me arrive at the studio, one after another, the four, who had just finished with practice, came to where I was. The T-shirts they are wearing are soaking with sweat.

“Ah, Manager! How was my dancing?” “It’s gotten a lot better. Compared to before, your movements are now aligned.” “That is because everyone has worked extremely hard. To tell you the truth, I have been panicking recently because I feel that I will be left behind.” “There you go again about that~ We really can’t keep up with Rui-kun’s sharp movements.” “Hey, I wasn’t out of position, was I?” “Don’t worry, you were in sync with everyone.” “Really? That’s a relief~ I was the only one who was off for the last beat so it took quite a long time before I could memorise the right rhythm.” “Is that so? From what I saw just now, I wouldn’t have guessed.” “That’s good then!”

(They worked really hard with practice, didn’t they.)

“Ah, right. I bought you drinks! You must be thirsty, right?” “Seriously?! You sure are thoughtful! The drink I brought along became empty just like that.” “I’ll have some too~. It was tough since my throat’s all dry. I mean, there’s also a heater in this place. We were just about to become like dried-up marimo.” “Yes, I was also just getting thirsty. Thank you very much.” “It’s fine, this much is nothing.”

I hold out the bag with cold drinks to the four.

“Ah, and another thing. I thought I should show this to you all! Tah-dah!”

Making that sound effect, I take out and show the four the CD jacket design that arrived just now.

“Ah, this is...” “I tried to make the jacket exactly the way Aru-kun drew it. If there’s anything about it that is different from your image, I’d be happy if you could let me know as soon as possible.” “Wow...”

Aru-kun is surprised to see that his own drawing has now taken the form of a CD jacket. He’s spacing out with wide, round eyes as if he’s dreaming.

“Gosh, Aru looks so happy. ...Somehow, it’s even making me happy.” “Eru-kun?” “Up until now, there hasn’t been this many people who acknowledged Aru. I mean, since Aru talks using online gaming language, everyone tends to find it troublesome to understand him and gives up. So... thanks. It makes me happy that you properly see Aru’s good qualities.” “Not at all. I wouldn’t have been able to create this lovely jacket without Aru-kun’s help so I’m very grateful towards him.” “Heeeh... So Aru drew this, huh. Awesome, this is super awesome! I want to RT it badly.” “Very... There appears to be a similarity relation.” “Similarity relation?” “I mean that they resemble us a lot.” “Heeh.”

Atom-kun and Rui-kun peer at it with happy expressions. They must be elated to have something that they are involved in begin to take shape little by little. The four’s eyes are sparkling.

(...I’m so happy.)

It was worth putting in the effort.

“It will undergo some revisions but... the finished result will pretty much look like this.” “I think it looks great.” “I also like it.” “I’m fond of it as well. But it’s a shame there’s no marimo.” “Marimo is a little...” “I’m only joking!”

If I can see these four’s smiling faces, I am willing to keep on working hard.

“Anyway, why don’t you all get changed? You’ll catch a cold, sweating like that.” “You are right. Then let us go and get changed. What will you be doing after this, Manager?” “I plan to return to the agency, and continue with checking up on goods and Universe FES preparations.” “...Now?”

Aru-kun frowns. When I look at the clock, it is indeed already quite late.

“Yeah, but I need to work hard!”

Things will only become busier than they already are as Universe FES approaches closer.

“But you’re looking kinda pale, y’know?” “Eh? Really?” “Atom-kun is right. Are you getting enough sleep?” “Ah, now that you mention it, I guess my sleeping hours have slightly reduced lately...”

While I’m at the agency, I give priority to meetings and being the boys’ support. Because of that, the amount of work at the agency which I have brought home to do has increased.

“That won’t do. You’re a young girl. Your skin’s rough.” “W-Wah?!”

Eru-kun strokes my cheek. Although they are idols under my care, they are young and cool. They are boys engaging in idol activities. Even though I have become familiar with them, with this sudden close distance between us, my heart skips a beat.

“...Actually. Don’t you have a fever? Your cheeks are hot.” “That’s because Eru-kun just touched them out of nowhere!” “Really, Eru-kun. To suddenly lay a land on a girl...” “Eru, no.” “Alright, alright.”

When both Rui-kun and Aru-kun scolded him, Eru-kun finally removed his hand from my cheek.

“But it’s true that you don’t look well. Don’t push yourself too hard.” “We will also do what we can ourselves.” “Yeah, leave it to us.” “There’s no way we could let you take on the hardships yourself.” “Guys...”

It makes me happy that they are worried about me in this way even when we are in the final stages of preparation with all kinds of things going on.

“Thanks, but I’m alright! I’m going to give it my all as well so let’s all keep on going at full speed towards Universe FES!” “Yeah!” “Yes!” “Okaaay!” “Right!”

Our voices, which reaffirm our determination, echoes inside the studio. I see the boys, who are heading to the changing room, off and return to continue with my work.

A few days later, I ended up collapsing from overwork──────.

☆★☆

“...Awake?” “...H...uh?”

I blink absently. The first thing that came into sight was an unfamiliar, pure white ceiling.

“Director...?” “You collapsed at the agency. You don’t remember?” “Collapsed...? I...did?”

I don’t understand Director’s words.

(Um... What exactly happened?)

My memory is fuzzy. I have no memory whatsoever of where exactly I had lost consciousness. Before I knew it, I had woken up in this place.

“Is this... the hospital?” “That’s right. Since you collapsed all of a sudden, we had you quickly brought here. Your complexion looks a lot better now. I guess the IV drip is doing its job.” “I did feel... a little dizzy lately.” “...I see.”

(To think that I would faint...)

I wouldn’t have imagined. I had been giving priority to Universe FES preparations, and probably neglected my own health.

“Oh! Universe FES preparations...!” “...Don’t worry about that.”

Director stopped me, gently placing a hand on my shoulder, just as I was about to jump out of bed.

“And about MARGINAL#4...” “Yes, what about them?” “No, the problem doesn’t lie with them.”

(...Them?)

“It’s about you.” “Me?” “Yes. I know that you’ve been working hard with Universe FES preparations. But for you to collapse at this critical time, there isn’t anything you can do about being told that you lack self-management.” “...Yes.”

(She’s right. For me to fall sick like this at the busiest time is...)

“What is happening with MARGINAL#4 now...?” “The other staff are supporting them. If you had consulted me about your physical condition earlier, I could’ve transferred your duties to them more smoothly...” “...Yes.” “But no trouble occurred this time...” “...I am relieved to hear that.”

It seems my collapsing didn’t have a [negative] impact for the time being.

“I shall explain to you what will happen from here on.” “A-Alright...” “First off is for you to take a proper rest. This is your top priority.” “Yes.” “And... I’m having you step down as MARGINAL#4′s Manager.” “...!”

(No way...)

Although I was half-prepared for that, actually being told that made my heart heavily ache deep inside.

“The doctor in charge said that it’s best that you stay here for two weeks... Think of it as a good opportunity to let your body rest and try to recover. Your health is an important asset in this line of work, you know?” “...Yes. I am really sorry for the trouble I have caused.” “If you are careful next time, then that’s fine. I’ll come to visit you again when I have time. After all, even though I have removed you of your duty, you must be worried about the boys.” “...Yes.” “Rest well.” “I will...”

Director then left the hospital room, the sound of her heels clacking. The moment I was alone in the room, the reality of being removed as MARGINAL#4′s Manager sank in.

“...Fu.”

My eyes become filled with tears. Despite wishing to put in my utmost effort for their sake, I ended up abandoning them half way. Surely, I will [still] be slightly involved with them, given that they are talents of the agency. However, I am no longer their ‘Manager’. Even though I wanted to push them to the top idol seat with my own hands...

(The only thing I can do now is watch them.)

When I thought about that... I let the tears come, crying until there were none left.

☆★☆

“.........”

I absentmindedly stare at the TV. Now that I think about it, I had been so busy lately that I hardly watched any TV. To be lying in my hospital bed and spacing out in front of the TV, it’s as if my busy life up until now has been a lie.

(How boring...)

Even as I’m looking at the TV, it’s obvious that I’m thinking about something else. MARGINAL#4...... those four.

(Right now, they must be working hard with their dance and singing lessons.)

They must be putting in their all even without me here. And it would be nice if they were to feel even just a little sad because I am not there with them. I had negative thoughts such as that.

I could hear footsteps from outside approaching.

(...I wonder if it’s Director.)

She did say that she would come to visit again. As the sound of multiple footsteps gradually gets closer to the room I am in...

(Hm? There’s several?)

The door flung wide open before I could even look up.

“MANAGER!!” “A-Atom-kun?! E-Everyone?!”

The four members of MARGINAL#4 entered the hospital room with determined looks on their faces. And the one at the very back was Director.

“Um... What’s the meaning of this...?” “You see, these children have something to say to you.” “To me...?”

(Maybe... they are angry at me. After all, I abandoned them along the way.)

It’s not like I stopped being their Manager entirely, but in their eyes, I might have let them down.

“.........”

Heavy silence fills the hospital room. I need to say something, but I can’t find the words. The one who broke the silence was naturally Atom-kun.

“...Hey.” “What is it?” “We came today because we have a request.” “...Eh?”

(A request? They aren’t here to blame me?)

I had been constantly thinking that I would be blamed for my lack of willpower that resulted in my leaving the ‘MARGINAL#4′ project unfinished but... It seems I was wrong.

“After we heard that you collapsed, Manager, we did lots of thinking and came here.” “The reason you collapsed was because you overworked yourself for our sake.” “...We’re sorry for pushing you too hard.” “N-No, that’s not true. It’s not your fault so don’t apologise.”

The four hang their heads down, thinking that they were the ones who asked too much of me.

“...But you know, it has to be you.” “Eh?” “We are aware that our request will place great burden on you. However... you were the one who led us up to here from the start. Therefore, our Manager should be you to the end.” “Yeah, sorry. And if that’s the case, we need to tell you to get plenty of rest here. But hurry... and come back to us.” “I’ll work harder with my singing and dancing, and help you out. So please. Won’t you become our Manager again?” “You guys...” “...And that’s how it is. These four insisted that their Manager has to be you no matter what. Even though you can’t since it’s important that you take a break...” “U-Um...!” “What’s wrong?” “I have caused great inconvenience for everyone at the agency this time round. But... if you would allow it, I wish to return to being MARGINAL#4′s Manager.”

The four looked at me. I also directly looked back at them. These four with completely different personalities were suddenly told to form a group one day. I had been closely watching them put in the effort so that they can become one.

(I want to keep on watching over them.)

“Director, we’re begging you! Can’t you bring her back as our Manager?!” “I am asking you too. It is not MARGINAL#4 without her...!” “I’m begging you as well. I can share my prized marimo with you if you say you want one.” “Me too! I wish for her, who acknowledged me, to see me work hard.” “Director, me too... I wish to watch over them to the very end! I will definitely be careful so that something like this won’t happen again...! So please...!!”

“Please!!”

The four lowered their heads to Director. Remaining in bed, I also bowed my head low towards her way.

“.........”

Director ponders for a moment before slowly opening her mouth to speak.

“Then will you listen to a request of mine?” “Request...?” “I believe I told you at the start but... I want MARGINAL#4 to become top idols like the legendary STARMATE. They were truly great. STARMATE.”

Director murmurs that as if she’s in a world of her own.

“Therefore, I want you... to perform a legendary live that amounts to STARMATE’s at Universe FES.” “L-Legendary live?”

If I remember correctly, the legend left behind at STARMATE’s lives was... Stars showered upon earth, mesmerised by and drawn to their singing ────── or so people say.

(A legendary live that will bring forth a shower of stars...?)

I have no idea how we are supposed to do that exactly. And neither does MARGINAL#4. All of us look at each other, puzzled.

“If you promise me that... I shall allow her to return.” “We promise!!” “H-Hold on a second! Atom-kun!”

I hurriedly stopped Atom-kun, who was about to declare that immediately to Director. The fact that Director set a condition means that there should be a penalty should we fail to clear it. It is risky to make any promises before asking her about that.

“If... In the case that we fail to create a legendary live that meets your satisfaction, what will happen?” “MARGINAL#4 will be disbanded.” “EEEEEHH?!!”

(Disbanded?!)

“H-Hold on, Director! How can you suddenly disband us based on the outcome of our debut at the FES?!” “You don’t have to make that promise, you know? From the start, I got you to form MARGINAL#4 because I wanted you to surpass the legendary STARMATE. Either way, you need to be able to do that, starting from your debut.” “...!!”

For some reason, I feel like that condition was something Director had already decided on beforehand. It should’ve been the condition... for my return, and yet maybe it was something she had planned from the very beginning...

(Th-This is risky...!)

I was about to tell myself that I couldn’t let the four cross such a dangerous bridge.

“Bring it on!” “?!”

Atom-kun accepted Director’s challenge head-on.

“H-Hold on...!” “Fufufu, good answer! To be able to see that legendary live again... I’m looking forward to Universe FES more and more.” “Wai- Director...!”

Director is laughing happily. Now that I think about it, Director did stress that she wanted MARGINAL#4 to be a group that will surpass the legendary STARMATE. I have a feeling that she successfully got Atom-kun on board with this by using me as an excuse.

(Don’t tell me, her saying that she was removing me from my position as MARGINAL#4′s Manager was a set-up for that...?)

For some reason, I had that feeling.

“I’m really looking forward to your legendary live at Universe FES!”

With only that as her final words, Director left with a spring in her step.

“.........”

All that remained was the four from MARGINAL#4 and me, who didn’t know what to make of what just happened.

“If we fail to perform a legendary live, we will be disbanded...?” “Uwaah, what’s with that? I don’t really get it. To begin with, what does she mean by a legendary live?” “STARMATE’s live...?” “The rumours did say that they brought a shower of shooting stars, huh...” “That reminds me, I believe there is a formula to predict meteorites...” “I don’t think that’s it, Rui-kun.” “I guess you are right...”

If they fail to pull off a legendary live at Universe FES, MARGINAL#4 will be disbanded. This is a decision that has already been set in stone.

“W-What do we do...” “Well, don’t worry. We’re idols who deliver a kiss to the ends of the galaxy, remember?” “In any case, why don’t we start by gathering information about STARMATE?” “I’ll also turn to my connections and ask around.” “I’ll also try to look for info online.”

The four, who were all over the place in the beginning, are finally brought together as one as MARGINAL#4.  There is no way that I will let their dreams of becoming idols end here.

“No matter what it takes, let’s definitely make Universe FES a success, okay...!” “Hell yeah!” “Yes!” “Ye~p!” “Yeah!”

Again, we vowed to make that happen.

☆★☆

In order to increase the quality of their performances, they enthusiastically put more effort into practice than ever before. In order to make up for lost time I spent in bed, I also desperately got more work done compared to before I collapsed. We also kept an eye on the state of each other’s health.

Meanwhile, we also gathered information on STARMATE. STARMATE, who left behind a legend in which they brought a shower of stars at each of their lives. If we do not surpass STARMATE or fail to at least achieve the same level as them...  MARGINAL#4 will be disbanded. We tried to figure out what STARMATE’s lives were like but...

“What do you mean by live policy...” “T-To think that there are no records of footage remaining...” “Usually, they would make live DVDs, right?! I don’t believe this!” “Th-This is too much...”

Many live reports and books remain. Their CDs are also circulating to this very day so it’s generally possible to obtain them.

However, there is so little footage of their lives, where they left behind that legend, remaining that we might as well say that there is none at all.

(So that was part of their strategy.)

Legendary lives that you can only know about by attending them. The legend steadily grew through the spread of information from attendees.

“What are we supposed to do... Can we win against something we barely know about...” “To think that only information in the form of rumours and reports have widely circulated that we cannot grasp the true nature of it...” “I wonder how we’re going to deal with this now. Aru, isn’t there anything that can be done about it?” “Usually, no matter what kind of artist it is, live footage would circulate underground but... STARMATE’s will be uploaded and then deleted within seconds that it doesn’t make any sense.” “Within seconds?!” “I think their agency is extremely strict with checking up on that.” “...That’s amazing.”

I muttered seriously. Quite a number of years have passed since STARMATE broke up. Even so, it’s befitting that their agency’s management would be strict.

“”But now that it’s come to this, we’ve no longer got a choice but to fight with quality.” “You are right...” “In other words, creating a miracle with our true abilities without resorting to tricks, eh! Sounds pretty difficult and fun.” “The higher the difficulty level of the quest is, the more it is worth capturing.”

(That is true.)

Now that things have come to this, all they can do is put forth all of the strength they can muster as MARGINAL#4 at Universe FES.

“If that’s the case, it’s time to practise!” “Shall we work on our choreography a little longer?” “Eru, would you mind having a look at my dancing once more?” “Got it!”

The unusual challenge that we must overcome ────── surpass STARMATE’s legendary live. But for MARGINAL#4, who will defy that, their determination will not be broken by that.

“These four will be alright.”

We have decided to challenge that with just our true abilities. The four from MARGINAL#4 practise over and over, sweating blood, in order to carve a new legend at Universe FES. I also supported them with all my might.

And at long last, the day of Universe FES arrived──────.

To be continued. ➤ Chapter 7

Thanks for reading!

[idolizerp]

[ LOADING INFORMATION ON HER.OINE’S LEAD DANCE, MAIN RAP MOON GAEUN…. ]

DETAILS

CURRENT AGE: ## DEBUT AGE: ## SKILL POINTS: 00 VOCAL | 00 DANCE | 00 RAP | 00 PERFORMANCE SECONDARY SKILLS: ERASE IF NONE

INTERVIEW

pairing her.oine’s girl-crush concept with gauen’s age and position as the group’s main rapper naturally led to the company enforcing the image of the strong unnie to her. from the moment of her debut, she made thick eyeliner and strawberry-blonde locks hers. the clothes her stylists would dress her in mostly comprised of studded jackets, hints of leather and netted stockings of all sorts of colours. her introverted personality walked hand-in-hand with the requirements for her to seem unapproachable and intimidating in order to maintain the reputation her company had created for her. on stage, she was to give it her all; capture everyone with her charisma and impress with her own written rap lyrics. off stage, and in the eyes of the public, she was to play the role of the daunting celebrity: the one that naturally looks unimpressed all the time and talks only when she wants and has to. it wasn’t necessarily hard, when all she had to do was smile less and excuse her shyness as her image in the group. 

unfortunately, not many bought the persona. 

her large eyes don’t go well with the eyeliner. she has smiling lips that ruin her strong image. the shape of her head is just unlucky. she has a double-chin. her face is big and boring. she’s dull next to the other members. she seems more cute than cool. her concept is wrong. she’s publicised wrongly. singularity doesn’t know what they’re doing.

the online comments often made consistent patterns. it was always about her looks and how she was never sub-par with the others. the years that followed their debut proved to be challenging, especially when her.oine’s members kept flunking every variety show appearance and returning to the spotlight after hiatuses long enough to make the public forget them. they were the ‘make-it-or-break-it’ group that eventually lacked activities and promotions, due to their mundaneness and the company’s levels of productivity. every member had too much time, and lacked the patience, but the decisions were never theirs to make. 

the group’s two-year inactivity after boombayah promotions birthed the opportunity for gaeun to make changes for the better. an intensive diet was what she went through, under the strict supervision of a dietician and a body trainer. she underwent a life-changing phase — gaining more popularity after the pictures of her after her hard-earned transformation began to circulate in the net. they start to call her the little fan bing bing; a goddess whose looks matured along with her age. by the time whistle promotions began, she wasn’t the strong unnie anymore. she was the chic oldest member — elegant and graceful, with an unexpected talent for rapping and freestyle dancing. the comments got better. but it’s impossible to please the entire world. 

her chin is so sharp. her face looks too small compared to last time. i bet she did her eyes. diet = surgery on her whole face. that’s not gauen; that’s another person. this concept is better, but she’s plastic.. so it’s still bad. why is she pretending to be natural, anyway? she’s not perfect either way; it’s frustrating. two years of hard work did not invite more opportunities for her to be criticised. it’s now become a chore for her to please everyone when a huge number of them are incredibly demanding. it’s getting unmanageable for her to smile through the insensitive questions and jabs given by the inquisitive members of the public and the industry. 

the woman’s now counting the days until her last strand of patience snaps, and the world discovers the strong no one thought she had.

BIOGRAPHY

i. conflicting minds. 

gaeun learns about the spotlight at the dinner table. she’s gripping greasy chopsticks, slurping noodles and stabbing meat patties when the television blares and calls for her attention. between the strands of her hair and the shoulders of her parents — her gentle father and her conservative mother — she sees bright-eyed beauties with nightingale voices. princess clothing and high heels. vibrant eyelids and vibrant lips. the singing unnies twirl in sync on the illuminating screen, and when they laugh, she does too. it’s the only sound in the room, other than the clinking utensils and roaring fan-chants. mother frowns and looks over to see what’s stopping her easily-distracted daughter from finishing her meal. 

mother’s frown deepens.

“i told you not to switch on these idol shows around her,” is the murmur mother passes to father without looking up from her plate, “she’ll get ideas.”

“sora, the girl loves to dance. nothing wrong in giving her some people to look up to.” 

“nothing wrong? dongwon, look at those girls. wearing short skirts and tight dresses like that, and all that make-up.. and what are they? sixteen? seventeen? it’s just horrifying. what if she wants to be like them?”

“what’s wrong with that?”

“you mean, you don’t mind our daughter walking around like that? with her legs and stomach all bare for the whole world to see?” 

“we can always advice her. she listens to us well.”

“sure, she does,” sarcasm accompanies the sudden skidding of mother’s chair as she stands, eyes glaring with disapproval, “you tell yourself that. she has a future, jungwon. she’s intelligent. i don’t want her selling herself like those.. idols. whatever you call them.” mother leaves, and father only watches her leave with unease settling in his stomach. his gaze sadly casts itself over his daughter. his heart makes a painful throb.

he sees hope harbour in the eyes of innocence, and a spark of an undying determination.

ii. strung emotions. 

sixteen is the age of achievement and open doors. 

she reluctantly finishes a toeic test after cram school one time and learns that she delivers grand results. the teachers say she takes after her novelist father: always hungry for knowledge, a lover of literature of all kinds. a magician with words. they say she should study languages because she has an apparent flare for it. they say it would do everyone proud. 

sixteen is also the age of rebellion and audacious adventures. 

she doesn’t attend school the following day. her parents have no suspicions. by the toilets of an old korean restaurant, gaeun changes into her prettier clothes. she doesn’t look back as she waves at the road for a cab, dusty bills in her palms. she is timid dreams and newfound valiance as she walks into a building decorated by pictures of successful celebrities and audition posters. at the counter, she hands over an audition slip with forged signatures and false consent. they bring her in and tell her to do what she does. 

she smiles and dances — just like those unnies from her childhood. they applaud and ask if she can do anything else. it’s sudden, but she presents a rap from a retired band’s song, recalling its lyrics from her fuzzy mind, reliving moments from her past performances in the shower. 

she tells herself that an immediate failure would guarantee the route that the teachers and her parents had been waiting to watch her walk down on. that the day is a temporary dream come true, and a blissful picture for her to reminisce in the future, when she’s someone that isn’t an idol. 

she’s actually more than passable. a registration form lands in her hands instead of defeat. singularity tells her that they want her. excitement buzzes wild in her blood, but the anxiety doesn’t go away. 

she reaches home late. mother is mildly cross as she walks in with quivering lips, speechless to the question regarding her earlier absence in school. gaeun glances at the dinner table, and there father is, looking completely understanding, curious for answers as well. father waves and smiles. something sharp pierces through her. she’s not ready for the disappointment.

“i’m sorry.”

iii. isolated hearts. 

she becomes a stranger and a victim.

she drifts away from father. once every few nights, they do meet at the living room, when he’s flipping through sports channels and she’s looking for a couch to rest her tired bones on. they do talk, and it’s uncomfortably bittersweet. father says he approves the star dream, but the droop of his eyelids every time resemble his high hopes — sunken; fallen. 

mother doesn’t regard her anymore. everyday is a rain of derogatory terms and distasteful remarks. on her kinder days, she tells gaeun her brain is a lie, and she looks like a pig in whore clothing. on other days, she tells the world she doesn’t have a daughter. mother denies her existence, but the world welcomes it. 

year 2013: she’s a youth with forced optimism and a naive charm. singularity assesses her and finds her and her promising array of abilities to be ready. they bring her to a room and stand her alongside three other girls, and they brand them as her.oine. she belongs to a group now. 

so, she leaves what apparently was home for the dorms. she vows to visit, but promises are so easy to falsify. there is no worth in returning to the people who wouldn’t accept her unless she fits their standards of the ideal, filial daughter. 

months after, she stands before a real audience for the first time, boasting high boots and a shoulder-baring top.

the charismatic unnie and rapper of the group. good evening, i’m her.oine’s moon gaeun! the speakers begin to play their debut single. the crowd is intense as they roar. her childhood returns as a loving memory.

greasy chopsticks. cold dinner. her parents’ shoulders. the singing unnies. 

how warm, it is — the furl of ambition, as it settles in the base of her aspiring, unknowing heart.