#i like how we became fugatives

[ghostinghome]

i finally got mystery dungeon dx after watching rtgames play explorers of sky, so here are my little guys !!! sriracha the cyndaquil and his partner sorrel the treecko ! together they r team yummy (i couldnt think of a name)

[everyurlithinkofistoolong]

Hoaquin Arie: An Appropriately Unhinged Essay

Hoaquin was introduced as a character in season 2 of Tower of God: Hell Train arc. A short little white boy (4'11 to be exact) with big dreams and billions of people's blood on his hands, he's unabashedly cruel and seems to completely lack the ability to empathize with others. He's narcissistic, only really ever thinking of himself and how to further his own goals- as shown by his ever changing 'loyalties' throughout the comic. He truly stands with no one and only really seems to be in FUG for his own benefit rather than anything the organization believes in.

Hoaquin is completely aware of this and exhibits no shame in this regard, at least outwardly.

To understand Hoaquin, one must understand how SIU chooses to develop his character. He isn't a character that undergoes any change in worldview or perspective, he never redeems himself in any sort of way or has any redeeming qualities, and you can generally see what choices his character will make in any situation (basically what benefits him the most). So there is a very limited amount of things SIU can do with him, as he runs the risk of making Hoaquin boring and a one-note villain.

So what SIU does is reveal Hoaquin's backstory in intervals over the course of ~300 or so chapters, showing us bit by bit what Hoaquin used to be and how he ended up as he is. And it's not a conventional backstory in the least. There isn't some overwhelming trauma that breaks him, or someone (ie his father) who wronged him or soiled/corrupted him somehow. Hoaquin doesn't have an internal descent into darkness where he used to be pure but became wretched.

No. Hoaquin was always bad. But he wanted to be good.

An interesting moment we see before Hoaquin's first flashback is him absorbing his siblings again, thinking please don't forgive me father, I have always been a sinner (paraphrased). This is most likely referring to Hoaquin knowingly tricking his siblings into using them for the soul eating spell all along. He was horrible even before climbing the tower. This is a reoccurring theme with him.

In Hoaquin's first flashback, we see him as a young child chasing down his father. His father doesn't recognize him and asks him who he is. Hoaquin then tell him his name and his dream to surpass his him in swords skill. His father than takes him to the family shrine and tells him that the only way to surpass him is to leave 'this place' and become a demon.

This flashback is not what it seems. Take that and put it in your back pocket for now.

Now we are made to ruminate on this for a while before his next flashback. He has moments of character insight, albeit very brief and vague ones, because Hoaquin is a very closed off character. He's not likely to give others an opening into his vulnerable inner thoughts/emotions to any other character or the reader even. But we do have the moment of him talking to Beniamino (? or his brother probably honestly I don't remember) about the nature of weapons.

Beniamino/his brother are human weapons. Literally. However Hoaquin insults their preferred method of fighting (fists), because they're too emotional and dull. A sword, he contends, is sharp and emotionless. Distant. And an emotional dull weapon isn't useful to FUG.

Now on the surface of it, this is just Hoaquin talking shit. However, consider, again, what kind of person Hoaquin is taking to here. He's talking to a living breathing lab human engineered weapon. Arie's are not just swordsmen, they see their swords as an extension of themselves. Here (from the first flashback) his father is figuratively referring to himself/the family as a sword. He's not literally saying Hoaquin is going to be sacrificed, but if he should choose so, he could stay in the family and be his father's 'servant' aka becoming part of his 'sword'.

They often visualize themselves and each other as beautiful swords, as we see later, particularly Hoaquin. As in, he highly regards being unemotional, sharp, and lethal. Also put this in your back pocket as this is very important to my theory on why Hoaquin manifests 'White' in particular as he gets more powerful.

Another interesting moment in between flashbacks is in the Hidden Floor when hes fighting his Sworn Enemy.

It's a small moment, but important foreshadowing. His Sworn Enemy takes the form of a sword. You can see this as his ever lasting goal to becoming the strongest swordsman, but I would also like to add something else on top of that. It's important because a sword is how he visualizes his father and his unattainable love. More on this later.

Hoaquin finally merges with Albelda and forms White. For simplicities sake, I will continue to call him Hoaquin.

We get another flashback, this time he's still a child. He goes back to his father and tells him that's he's been thinking about what he's told him and that he's come to the conclusion he should become powerful and rule a kingdom fairly like his father does. His father dashes these hopes quickly:

Look at this framing. His father, in contrast as to the last flashback where he faced Hoaquin, is now standing on front of him, his back facing his son entirely. He never looks at Hoaquin throughout all of this. These are all old screenshots and I cropped out the bottom of the last panel unfortunately, but there’s supposed to be a (shocked) Hoaquin standing, dark evil looking tendrils exuding from his shadow.

This is placed at this point in the story because White is what grows from the 'seeds of a demon' that Hon (father) mentions here.

But this also shows what kind of father Hon is. He's... Blunt. And... Not really a father at all. At least not the type to care for his children's emotional well-being. One could say that he's just giving Hoaquin advice on how he could achieve his goal of massive power, but no good father would admit something like this to their child. Tell them that's they have evil potential and perhaps destined to be incinerated but it's what he's born for.

And even more interesting, Hon is aware of this. He knows Hoaquin will have an enormous amount of rage within him for his father. He probably knows this is because he cannot love Hoaquin and Hoaquin could never be as powerful as him.

Also, Hoaquin's first flashback is turned upon it's head here. No, Hon isn't telling Hoaquin to become a demon because something is particular evil about Hon himself, it's the evil he sees inside Hoaquin that prompted him to say that. This puts the other flashback into better perspective: his father was basically giving him the option, stay here and remind part of the family as his 'servant' or leave fulfill his destiny to become a demon outside of it.

Bookmark this as the beginning of Hoaquin's spiral. Also remember 'I always have been a sinner?' (paraphrased). His father saw it in him from the beginning and told him.

Now at the start of s3 we don't get much focus on Hoaquin. But there seems to be a slight switch in his attitude- he seems to have grown a particular fixation on Bam.

This is a common way SIU develops Hoaquin- contrasting him with other characters through projection. The same way as with Beniamino/his brother, earlier. This makes sense- Hoaquin is incredibly self centered and it seems the only way he ever takes interest in anyone else in a deeper level is only if he could make it about himself whether it's purposeful or not.

The first interesting moment is when he states to Evankhell that by training Bam she's creating a monster (paraphrased). This concept follows Hoaquin around a lot- corruption, turning into a monster, falling into sin. It may not be obvious at that point, but he was seeing something in Bam that reminded him of himself, or maybe he wanted to see something in Bam like himself.

It's important to remember at this point that both Bam and Arie Hon are irregulars.

This is also the case with the iconic whitehatz (<3) convo. Hatz and Hoaquin compliment each other as complete opposites in so many ways- yet very similar. They are both swordsmen. They both place extraneous value in being able to weild a sword. It's a core part of their identity. But while hatz falls more onto the Bushido code type of swordsman, Hoaquin falls on the other end, whatever that is.

Hatz calls him a murderer and that... Seems to get under Hoaquin's skin. We've seen Hoaquin get called everything under the sun, hell, hes the one who's often most cruel to himself verbally.

But honorable, honest Hatz (and perhaps even naive) says Hoaquin is not a swordsman but a murderer and Hoaquin snaps back that a sword is a tool for murder and Hatz should quit if he can't come to terms with that.

"... But in the end you're just a killer".

And I hate to say this again but hold on to this concept for a while, it will tie together in the end *shakes fist at SIU*. You will see.

A few other moments happen between then and the whitebam battle including interesting convos between him and Khun, him getting his ass beat by kallavan, etc. Honorable mentions. But let's skip on ahead to Hoaquin's final flashbacks.

But first, let's talk about this battle a bit:

Remember how I said that Hoaquin is only able to relate to other characters using projection and that's a part of how SIU chooses to develop him?

"I don't team up with anyone. I either make them surrender or devour them. Some have thought of me as a leader and followed me... But I'm actually a predator by nature... So no one has ever stayed by my side until the end."

All of this started because the Hoaquin's siblings were under the impression that he was working with them, particularly Vincinte. Hoaquin is basically saying here that not only that he chooses too be a lone wolf, but he cannot help but to be one.

"so you’re basically just an experiment that those with an inferiority complex made to comfort themselves. Almost every single one of the guys like you I've run into before has been a failed experiment."

Funny choice of words there Hoaquin. I sure hope that exact phrase doesn't pop up again later in reference to you.

The laws of the tower is a heavy topic in this scene. Yorayo insists that being a mix of human and nonhuman gives him the ability to break the towers laws, namely the one against blocking an Arie's sword. Hoaquin then proves him wrong.

And then tries... to comfort him strangely ("you get an E for effort!"- not what he said but basically it). Yorayo even himself questions it, wondering if Hoaquin was trying to deceive him. But... maybe Hoaquin was trying to deceive himself.

He's one his way at the moment to fight Bam. An irregular. He wants to kill his father. An irregular. He wants to believe that the laws of the tower can be broken, just a bit.

Moving on, we get to the Whitebam- Aria battles. This is going to be a bit out of order because it's going to slightly be a stream of consciousness but here we go:

Aria explicitly comments that Hoaquin had the same look as commander Librock- an inferiority complex! Again, it's most likely possible that Hoaquin's quotes from his Yorayo battle had a double meaning; he was also referring to himself as an experiment. But rather some someone else creating him, he's conducting it on himself.

Hoaquin (violently) notes that Bam’s eyes very much remind him of his father's. Similarly, in a flashback Hoaquin comments sadly to his teacher that his father's eyes have become "cold"- going as far to compare it to being drenched in ice water. Clearly Hoaquin is distraught about this, wondering if he's simply not doing well enough and if his father is disappointed in him.

The teacher corrects him, stating that Hon has never "changed" and that to a beings like them are both simply insignificant insects. Maybe Hoaquin is the one who has changed, he suggests. This seemingly breaks something in Hoaquin, his "change" shown as a reference to him casting the soul eating spell. The scene ends with Hoaquin killing his teacher, this panel confirming that this is the start of "White":

Think of the first flashback we saw before this one: His father telling him that he sees the seeds of a demon within him. Telling him to feast on the souls of the weak, and that's what he was born for.

But Hoaquin doesn't come to hate his father after that, yet. It is only now, that when it's confirmed to him that even after he's done what his father had advised him to do, his father still does not care for him. And what he's left with is a dark fate, blood on his hands, and nothing to show for it.

In that moment he becomes "White", a sword cast against his father in rage and vengeance.

- and, again, Bam's eyes remind him of his own father's- the unattainability of his recognition, and more importantly his father's status as an incredibly powerful irregular similar to Bam that Hoaquin could never measure up to.

Perhaps this is why Hoaquin also seeks to "corrupt" Bam in these scenes, to his own detriment. He wants to bring Bam down to his level, this all powerful irregular who can attain massive power without getting blood on his hands (or sword- more on this later).

(This of course is a complete misunderstanding of Bam on Hoaquin's part. Bam's whole arc this season is about coming to terms with accepting that he can't protect everyone and that people will die for him and because of him. He accepts this responsibility.)

It looks like to me that Hoaquin is trying to justify his own existence through Bam's corruption. And it's not simply just Hoaquin's choices, but according to him, the very circumstances of his birth. Hoaquin states various times that he believes he was born evil, disgusting, corrupt, etc., especially around this arc. That he was destined to wear a crown of blood on his head. Very similarly to how his father told him explicitly that this is what he was "born for".

If Bam, someone who could attain massive power w/o sacrifice, someone born special and seemingly surrounded by people who grow attached to him naturally, someone like Hon, falls like Hoaquin has- well, then can you blame Hoaquin for being so inherently evil?

Yes, you can of course, but I talking about Hoaquin's possible thought process here obviously- in my opinion, born out of insecurity.

But also, if there's a way for Bam to fall- then there must be a way for Hoaquin to go back up.

And Hoaquin greatly desires this. He screams this to Bam- that he wants to eat Bam's soul to gain the power to go up to where his father is "beyond darkness to where the light is". In his last flashback, he speaks to Vincinte about how every Arie desires to forge a sword that does not get stained with blood like Hon's, aka to attain great power without major sacrifice as irregulars are able to do. Hoaquin's sword is already drenched in blood, but he would like to attain massive power like his father's anyways. He has no choice, Hoaquin is a "natural predator" and someone born to eat the souls of the weak- it is his destiny, again, what he was "born for".

What he tells to Bam as he gets ready to kill him

"There was a demanding thirst no matter how much power I devoured from others. But once I take your power I will no longer suffer from it. I will be able to escape this torment of endless emptiness."

"You are my last corruption."

And this is what I mean when I say Hoaquin desires to be good, but has always been bad all along. He puts on an air of comfort in his depravity while acting uncharacteristically during his fight with Bam- initiating physical contact (that he had before put down as "too emotional") amongst all of it- because Bam's very nature gets under his skin. There is a certain level of self hatred, ironically, that shines through here.

Which makes sense. It's often the most narcissistic people who are a compensating for deep insecurities.

This is why, despite criticisms of how Hoaquin was defeated, it's pivotal that is was Khun and Rak who aided Bam in defeating him. They are Bam's family, his best friends. People who stood by his side for so long, while Hoaquin was saying matter of factly just a few chapters ago that everyone eventually leaves his side because of how he is.

It's thematic okay?

Now, let's go back a bit to Hoaquin's second to last flashback. He is approaching his father's sword and the shinsoo around said sword let's him have it. Basically says that Hoaquin is impatient, a sinner, and will be cursed to a bajillion years of thirst for unattainable power. Hoaquin thinks that he doesn't care that he is a sinner anymore and has been cursed with a thirst for power since he was born, as he references to Bam, an endless emptiness.

He is more so bothered by the fact that the sword does not speak to him. To go back to it briefly, this was foreshadowed in The Hidden Floor- Hoaquin's Sworn Enemy could very well be representative of this sword. The sword is meant to represent his father, not caring nor noticing the fact that his son is doing these things. Nothing Hoaquin does garners his attention at all, even war crimes.

The shinsoo however... what could that possibly represent, if it's meant to represent anything? Judging from the flashback right after this one, when he is speaking to Vincinte on good terms- Hoaquin hasn't cast the soul eating spell yet and has not started to kill people for power. So what could this symbolize as who would know about Hoaquin's plan to trick his siblings... Other than Hoaquin himself?

The shinsoo could very well be Hoaquin's conscience... Or it could just be really mean air that regularly talks shit to Hon's children, who knows? Given the sheer amount of symbolism and metaphor in Hoaquin's character on its own, I would not be surprised if the shinsoo is meant to project the guilt/insecurities/shame of the person who dares approach the beauty of Hon's stainless sword.

As promised, with this added information I also want to revisit Hoaquin's moment with Hatz. As we all know, Hatz is nobody special (he is tho, in my heart :( ). He's not a member of one of the ten families, he's not an irregular, etc. He's just a dude with amazing sword skills and some badass swords.

So it is no wonder that Hoaquin frankly seemed offended at the idea that Hatz made the distinction between swordsman and murderer. Because, frankly, in order to grow more powerful at swordsmanship, you do need to get better at killing. The only person who has managed to keep a 'clean' sword, whom Aries aspire to, is Hon. Hoaquin says it himself to Vincinte, that he is unsure if his way of attaining power is the way his father had done it.

So who is Hatz, this little punk, to be all holier than thou on the subject? That, plus, do we remember another kid who wanted to be as good as Hon and gain power the way Hon had? A naive little kid who needed to be told to become a killer? Could it be that in that moment Hatz might have reminded Hoaquin of his own childhood delusion, torn to shreds by his father- so Hoaquin did the same thing his father did, in a paralleled position- completely faced away from Hatz, never looking back?

Whew. Anyways.

Let's talk about "White" as a manifestation.

What is "White"? Obviously White is Hoaquin. They have the same memories and motivations. Some may say that they're personalities are different, but you could also say that "White" is just mature Hoaquin. But, in my opinion, "White" is Hoaquin turning himself into a sword, metaphorically- and perhaps literally, I mean did you see what Hoaquin turned himself into right before he got blasted by Rak? Khun even brings attention to this form, thinking "what on earth is that?"

Bam even calls him a sword in the chapter before

"he's [White] never going to let go of the sword, since he is the sword itself."

Let's break it down-

- As promised, let's return to Hoaquin's convo with Beniamino/or his brother. Hoaquin, speaking to a human weapon, puts down "emotional" fists over unemotional and lethal swords. He maintains that one is only a useful weapon if they are that way. Again, Hoaquin projects frequently and look at who he is talking to.

- As Hoaquin gains more power and evolves, he becomes more psychopathic and sharp. He is becoming more unemotional and cold. He is becoming the lethal weapon he lectured to Beniamino/his brother about the more people he cuts down.

- White is the color of Arie Hon's pure stainless sword (well, all Arie swords to be exact). Hoaquin calls himself "White" for a reason, to imply the purity of this perfect sword. And guess what happens as Hoaquin gets more powerful. He drapes more red over himself. More and more blood is getting on the weapon he has turned himself into. In direct contrast to his father's sword that is never bloodied.

In my opinion, "White" is not a person per se, but a personification of the stained sword Hoaquin wants to become to kill his father. I mean, Hoaquin's first words after forming "White" is a promise to slice his father into pieces. Who know he meant that super literally? As like. He would be the sword itself?

Now lets talk about Vincinte- poor Vincinte... Haha... unless?

In Hoaquin's last flashback, he notes that Vincinte understood the spell long before he had. It took me a bit of time to understand what he was referencing but it was literally right there on front of my face. What had Vincinte wanted all along since the beginning? And what was the flashback showing us?

He wanted to work as a team.

He reiterates this in the flashback as he comforts Hoaquin's uncertainty. Little did he know, that Hoaquin all along was planning on betraying him because well... He can't work as a team. SIU literally has him spell it out. He's a predator, he will either devour or make them submit. By Hoaquin's very nature he is inadequate for this. And he supposedly has comes to terms with this, while desiring an escape from it.

He realizes this at the end when he's defeated by Bam + Co. All that he had done, power built up for hundreds of not thousands of years. Gone. Again. Literally defeated by the power of friendship. And so he runs away and he allows Vincinte to take the reigns. Because Vincinte always understood how to go about their goal. He's patient, ambitious but not bloodthirsty. Willing to work with others. Everything that Hoaquin isn't.

People often forget that Hoaquin is the "center" of the spell, as stated in the Hell Train. No matter what, since he is the one who made the deal with the demon and said demon still is "within him", he will always be the one in charge. That is unless, of course, he's willingly letting someone else take the reigns. As he does.

He is willingly letting this happen. He has run away to allow Vincinte to do as he sees fit because everything he has done up until now has failed spectacularly.

This leads into my last subject (god bless): Hoaquin's demon.

Where did it come from? Why did it come in Hoaquin's sleep? Why is it only in Hoaquin?

I think it's interesting that so many times Hoaquin has mentioned feeling this "thirst" for power from birth and here’s this demon giving him a spell that will allow him to literally consume souls as a power source.

Honestly it think the emphasis, especially in the last arc, of Hoaquin being born evil is really interesting. Has this demon always been inside of him from birth? Hoaquin says in the Hell Train that it is still inside of him now.

What does this demon achieve from this arrangement? Does it actively want to see Hon's downfall? Why? And if so, why would Hoaquin even be an option?

I'm not sure what this all means. Maybe nothing, but I remember when people would make comparisons of Bam's blue demon inside him to the visual of Hoaquin's demon. They do look somewhat similar, although that could mean nothing.

Anyway, I digress. I just wanted to put that little crack theory out there. SIU is keeping Hoaquin around for something, not quite sure what it is.

In conclusion, there are the main characteristics with Hoaquin that intersect to make the absolute batshit insane person he is

- his desire to be notes and acknowledged by his father and how nothing he does garners his attention, leading him to feeling as if he has no choice but to kill him as Hoaquin already has a fate that would lead to such a future ("use your rage towards me as fuel").

- his "thirst" for power from birth. How he was born a sinner and a predator. Described by himself as an "endless emptiness" as he is never satisfied. The life that Jinsung warned Bam against, destroying yourself and those around you by making yourself a weapon.

- handy dandy demon that happens to give Hoaquin a spell that thematically compliments the way he describes the manifestation of his "sin" ("thirst") and it never mentioned again *shakes fist at SIU*.

- the idea that Hoaquin desires to be as good as his father but will never achieve that due to the laws of the tower and his own nature.

[margarethx]

I feel like one of the reasons why Sam and Bucky work with each other so well as a duo in is the fact that they are at the same (or almost the same) level of importance when it comes to the MCU. They are in a similar position as characters.

Let me explain...

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Before tfatws Sam Wilson was a character from the background. He is important for the overall storyline, but he’s not at the front of any movie. Even in ca:tws he was less relevant to the plot than e.g. Natasha. He’s necessary and there is a significant reason he’s there at all, but at the end of the day it’s a Steve Rogers’ movie. Not Sam’s. And even if calling Sam a sidekick is most of the time insulting - at least within the MCU - he kind of is a sidekick. That’s the role he has in the narrative. There’s a main hero (Steve) and a guy who follows his lead to help (Sam). Of course Sam has his own life and issues that have nothing to do with Steve, but we don’t even know them at this point. And here we’re looking at Sam through the lense of the Captain America movies.

Almost every scene with Sam before tfatws was connected to Steve. Sam joined the fight in ca:tws to help Steve. He was in AoU, because Steve invited him to Stark’s party. He was in Civil War, because Steve asked him to join the Avengers and he wanted to help Steve with finding Bucky... Similarly, Sam had his own opinions in Civil War, but we only hear them when it’s relevant to Steve’s story. (When Sam and Rhodey argue about the Accords they stand behind Steve, because the scene is about him making the decision.)  Even in Ant-Man, where there is no Steve at all, Sam mentions him after Scott left. Etc, etc. You get the picture.

And the same goes for Bucky.

We only see him in ca:tfa where his story is intertwined with Steve’s. When Steve gets his ass kicked before he got the serum. Or when they go to the Expo. Or when they fight during the war. Even when Bucky is saved by Steve it’s less about him being finally free and more about Steve finding his friend again. In ca:tws their meeting is told mostly from Steve’s perspective. It’s a film about Steve facing the Winter Soldier not the other way round. And later viewers don’t see Bucky’s life as a fugative untill the moment he becomes important to Steve’s storyline again in Civil War. And so on and so forth. It goes like that basically from Bucky’s first appearance in the MCU to the last scenes of Endgame.

When Steve and Bucky are fighting on the same side Bucky’s role could also be described as: “a sidekick”. Just like Sam’s.

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And I honestly believe that this is the reason why pairing Sam and Bucky together makes so much sense. Even if you put aside the obvious chemistry between the characters and their actors it just works for them to join forces in multiple scenes.

Both of them walked in Steve’s shadow before they got their own show. Not because they’re less interesting as characters or because Steve’s storyline is better, but because Steve is one of the main heroes in the entire MCU while Sam and Bucky were always orbiting around him in a way. And we, as the viewers, learnt very little about them outside of the stuff that was important for their relationships with Cap.

Why do we know about Sam losing Riley? Because Steve also lost someone who fell to their death. Why do we see Bucky killing Stark’s parents? Because it’s a movie about Steve’s conflict with Tony (mostly) and it’s just one of many things that makes the conflict worse. I’m not implying it’s unfair to the characters or something (even though I’d love to see them having more sceentime in general)... It’s just the role they serve in a story, because someone has to be in that position for the narrative to flow. You cannot make every character “the main one”. That wouldn’t really work.

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But then... When Sam and Bucky are together we suddenly see much more about both of them outside of their connection with Steve. It’s almost like destiny how they always end up in close proximity. They seem to naturally gravitate towards each other ever since they’ve met. And it looks like taking them away from a big, important character (Steve) makes them shine brighter. Most of the little moments they shared became iconic at some point when they were just allowed to exist together.

And again... I’m not saying that I don’t enjoy seeing their interactions with Steve, because I do. Especially Sam’s. But it very often feels like they interact with each other because it’s important for the progression of the plot. When Steve talks with Sam it’s often about their next mission, or how Sam helps him with something, or to show that Steve has difficulties with adjusting to the modern world. And when Steve talks with Bucky (at least after ca:tfa) I always feel like there should be a narrator’s voice talking over a scene, telling me: “see? they were friends in the past, before the war... this is important! pay attention”.

Meanwhile, when Sam and Bucky interact, some scenes just... happen for no purpose. Like they interact, because they want to, not because the script told them to. There’s absolutely no plot-related reason for showing Sam and Bucky sitting in that tiny car in Germany. Or for showing them standing together in Infinity War when Thanos attacks.

What the two of them have is completely different from what they had with Steve in the past.

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To be honest, it always bothered me a little how Steve never really did anything for Sam (freeing him from prison where Sam landed for helping Steve doesn’t count). It’s always Sam making Steve feel better and standing by his side. So it’s a very glaring contrast, when we got to see a whole separate montage where Bucky visits Sam and helps him fix the boat that was important to his family. Or when he casually throws a shield with him for practice, asks Sam if he’s okay, and brings him a new super-hero suit even though Sam never even asked for these favours or suggested that he needs Bucky’s help.

And I know that some people won’t like what I’m about to say, but Steve and Bucky really don’t act like they are particularly close to each other most of the time (especially after their first movie). I believe that they were friends before everything went to shit, but after ca:tws? Not really. They cling to that label, because of their shared story and because Steve cannot let go of the past, but they just... don’t act like they are friends anymore. It’s like they both changed too much and don’t know how to deal with that. So they don’t. It’s like Steve is only attached to some past version of Bucky that no longer exists and the new Bucky doesn’t fully match his expectations. Sam on the other hand has no expectations at all. He builds his relationship with Bucky from the fresh foundations. The creators don’t need to bring back some shared memories from 70 years ago to prove that these two have a strong connection. They just show them doing stuff together. The argument about The Big Three? Petty revange over a car seat? Discussing music tastes? Having “sleepovers” and giving each other slightly mean, but harmless nicknames? Discussing mental health? Having staring contests? Watching goddamn sunsets? That’s what people who are close to each other do.

And that’s why these two simply... work.

It’s not just implied or explained in a flashback. “Look, viewer. They are friends. I know they don’t act like they are, but trust me. They went for a dinner a decade ago... offscreen.” Sam and Bucky even refused to call themselves friends! They’re a couple of guys (allegedly). And yet I still know they like each other very much from the way they interact, speak about each other, or look at each other.

And I really think that one of the main reason’s why it works like that is because they’re both equally crucial (or irrelevant at times) for the story. Both are just as (un)necessary for the plot to move on. Sometimes they are very important and sometimes the plot would easily work without them. ca:tws could’ve happen without Sam. Civil War could’ve technically happen without Bucky if they put more emphasis on the Accords. There were both certainly unnecessary in Infinity War or Endgame. But there’s no way the events in tfatws would’ve happen without both of them being there together. Sam might’ve never taken the shield and become Captain America if it wasn’t for Bucky. Bucky would’ve spent countless years trying and failing to make amends and never finding peace if it wasn’t for Sam. The fandom likes to focus on only Bucky, but you wouldn’t get this much content about him if there was no Sam to share the story with him.

Because they just fit together perfectly.

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

Last disclaimer (because I really don’t want people to get the wrong impression): I actually like Steve. And I like Samsteve (romantically or platonically). Platonic Stevebucky is alright too. But it just kind of... pales in comparison when you see what Sam and Bucky have. Most MCU relationships pale in comparison if I’m being honest.

[wellthebardsdead]

Well the last game we thought we had our first character death for this campaign and it DESTROYED US!!

We’re currently stuck in the timeline of the oblivion crisis, and we thought if we can found the hero oh kvatch who was my character in the last game, we could stop them from going to the shivering isles and becoming sheogorath, thereby avoiding him opening the time wound a second time before it could close.

Well, we find the hero, but it’s not my character, its an entirely different person because this time, my character didn’t literally fall out of the sky and land on them before panicking and quickly taking their armour and helmet pretending to be them. I wasn’t there to influence the timeline this time.

At this point the invasion is in its final stage, Dagon is now out of oblivion and storming the city, and the hero is trying to get Martin septum to the white gold tower, that’s when leaf, sees himself, dressed in full daedric armour as a part of the oblivion army, charging towards the hero and Martin ready to kill them.

He charged in and ran his blade through himself stopping the attack, seemingly killing his past self, but also ending up extremely wounded himself to the point where we thought he’d died because of it. Sain ended up staying behind to protect him while we ran ahead to help the hero, well, the others did. I ran directly for Dagon to be a distraction.

Inside the tower the battle between the avatar of the dragon god and Dagon had already started, but a time wound rift had begun to rip open in the dragons presence (thanks to the dm rolling his fugging chaos dice) and now the invasion hasn’t happened, was currently happening, and had ended. We were desperately trying to close the wound while this was happening when a figure suddenly leapt from it and helped us close it. An ayleid with feathers on their neck, shoulders and in their long gold hair and two large wings, Sorrenil Harpwing. We thought this was going to be my cousins new/backup character when suddenly our other friend joined the table introducing themselves as this character.

They left the tower after the mess had been wrapped up and there were now two dragon statues to find Soleili laying half naked on the ground covered in hickeys and hand marks from four different hands on his body to which vivec asked, “WHAT HAPPENED?” To which I replied, “I’m not 100% certain but, I tried to be a distraction to buy you guys time, and then there were two dagons? Was my height and he picked me up and- I think he liked me? He gave me this cool knife and kept trying to bite my face but he mustn’t know how to use his teeth.” He’s clueless he’s lived in the wilderness his entire life he has no clue what love making is, my fault for rolling a 20 on ottos erotic dance.

After helping me find a shirt we run back to leaf to find clavicus there trying to find any type of magic left within him to heal him and sain trying to help.

We are all crying thinking our friend is dead when he suddenly flutters his eyes open with a croaky, “I lived bitch” To sain.

Sain just laughed and hugged him but it turns out the daedra that wounded leaf in his past that lead to him being rescued and cared for by an old woman was himself.

And we wrapped up the game with seer stepping out of an oblivion gate, feathers extremely messy, and a very drunk sanguine hanging off of him, whom proceeded to stumble over to clavicus and give him a big ol kiss restoring his power to where it used to be.

TLDR:

Leaf nearly killed his past self, hero of kvatch is a different person now, our friend joined the table with a friendly Ayleid, Martin technically became akatosh twice, Soleili made out with Dagon and I fulfilled the obligatory horny bard stereotype, seer did unspeakable things with and to sanguine to get his favour, barbas can now talk again, and clavicus now has his powers back and is currently throttling sanguine for kissing him.

Other notes include skipper utilising his little wings to drop water balloons filled with cat pee on daedra during the invasion, ophilia piloting a dwemer mech and kicking herself for sending the dragons back to skyrim, mannimarco pissing off some daedra by repeatedly resurrecting the people they’d just killed, dra’nor finally used reckless and the big fuck off hammer he got from malacath, and vivec and nylsi have resorted to alcoholism.

Over all a good game. It’s hard to put to paper because the mechanics are so complicated with the time wound stuff but it’s so much fun! ~Bambi

[the-panmixxia]

Logan Accidentally Steals Two (2) Children - Chapter 13; Accidentally A Fugative

Original Link (by me!)

Rating: Gen

Characters: Logan, Remy, Virgil

Ship: (eventual) Logan x Janus

Summary: Logan Sanders is so excited to study this exciting new creature that's been discovered! The spider-like creature is very interesting, and oddly adorable.

A few weeks later, a similar situation arises when an octopus like creature is discovered.

But surely they couldn't know each other. They aren't sentient. They're not related, and they definitely don't have an overprotective (and oddly attractive) snake parent looking for them. Nope, definitely not.

(or, how Logan became part of a monster family)

Warnings: Food, bugs in food, head injury, talks of concussion/dying

(fic is not in this font)

Remy's head was still sore by the time he came to, though he was lying on something plush and felt comfortably warm. There also seemed to be something on him, right on his chest, not heavy enough to hurt. Something was sitting next to him, too, leaning on his chest and sitting on his hand.

"Do you think he's dead?" a distinctly young voice asked, poking at his ribs.

Directly above him, something croaked gently, and the child's voice hummed in agreement.

"You're right, Vee, papa said he's sleepin', but like, he's been sleeping for forever! I wanna play already"

More croaks and small chirps responded, as Remy absently tried to get his body to respond.

"I know papa said not to bother him -"

"Boys? I thought I told you not to bother Remy while he's getting better"  a new voice called out, stern.

"Papa!"

"Very cute, you little horror, but I told you not to be here."

"I just…he kept us company, when we were somewhere new. Don't want him to be scared."

" Oh," the voice cooed, full of warmth and compassion "Aren't you a caring little thing? Unfortunately, you'll have to leave anyway, I've just finished preparing your dinner, but if you promise to be gentle I'll let you two stay in here for tonight"

"Really? Really really?"

" Really, really, really, my dear" the voice hummed, amused

The weights on his chest and side were lifted, making a slight shiver run through him.

"What are we having, papa?"

"Little three pasta, dear, and Virgil is having mealworm and woodlouse mixed in if you'd like some too?" a gentle chirp seemed to cheer the choice of meal

"Oh, yes please papa!" the child shouted, making his head hurt

"Very well, my sweet little monstrosity, but let's leave Remy alone if you want to yell…"

The voices tapered out as a door was pulled shut, leaving Remy back in darkness. The throb of his skull begged for him to go back to sleep, but there was no way he could when it was alarmingly obvious that he was in a place and with people he did not know.

After some moments of pretty awesome will power, his eyes finally pried open, to a tall ceiling painted a gentle eggshell with an intricate floral detail carved in. He slowly glanced around, wincing slightly, before deciding to heave himself up.

The headache intensified instantly, but he felt slightly less vulnerable so Remy counted it as a win. Glancing around, he was honestly shocked to see he wasn't in some dingy basement or abandoned shack.

Pretty decent kidnapping, all things considered.

Still, he thought as he steadied himself out and tried to balance there's no way I'm sticking around to see what kind of family feeds their kids worms and louse

Standing wasn't the easiest, but once he was up, he glanced down at himself. The only thing his that he had on was mismatched socks covering his feet. Other than that, he had a plain yellow shirt on, and some ridiculously oversized pyjama pants, pink and covered in cartoon cats. Numbly, he inspected them, seeing that they had the text 'cool pussy' all over them in a font alarmingly close to comic sans.

"Girl boss as fuck," Remy mumbled, laughing quietly, only slightly manic.

The drawstrings were pulled as tight as possible on the pants, but there was plenty of slack to pull the hem, glancing down. Remy found himself sighing in relief; his underwear had remained intact too.

On the bedside table sat his trusty shades, so he was quick to slip them on.

"Right let's…try and get out of here. Preferably alive and without eating any bugs."

Mumbling to himself seemed to help as he made his way through an empty, but cosy feeling, hallway. So far, the house felt rather large, and practically oozed the 'old money' vibe. Instead of old family portraits or naked renaissance women, large frames held illustrations of mythical creatures and monsters, not even a hero fighting it. Just the creatures, looking rather majestic.

In the hallway there was a large mirror, and so Remy could finally catch a glimpse of himself,  tilting his head slightly to see the bandaging wrapped around it. His hair was parted in two, a bun above the top of the bandages and one below, presumably to keep it out the way. He idly pulled the ties out, fluffing and fussing his hair until it looked semi decent and mostly covered all traces of the injury. Nice.

"Right, time to not fall down these stairs,"

The double staircase was more proof of being in some rich ass house, creeping Remy out further as he considered a multitude of horror movie tropes. Would there be staff members trying to hunt me down? What if they've got guard dogs outside to shred him? What if -

The multitude of rushing thoughts died instantly as he turned a corner and ended up in some form of dining room. With people inside. Dining.

'Well, people was putting it lightly,' he mused as he simply stared ' that one seems to be a giant frog, and that's a massive snake tail, and that's -'

A confused whine escaped him at the sight of the lil spider dude sitting at the table. Well, sat on the table, being fed by a scaly dude. The gooey looking child on the booster seat with random tentacles popping out of them? Probably the other creature.

Shit. We stole some kids.

"Oh, kiddo, you're awake!" the large frog guy beamed "You've been uh, 'having a nap' for quite a while, why don't you come eat? There's plenty. It's little pasta three tonight, with garlic bread."

He was hungry, starving really, and the food smelled great. But that wasn't what made him sit down, no, it was in a purely bewildered daze that he sat at the chair pulled out for him, allowed it to be pushed, watched multiple arms assemble a plate of pasta and slide it over.

"Would you like a drink, dear?" the snake asked, idly scratching the spider baby, who purred along as he nibbled.

Mouth dry and extremely parched, he slapped his lips together a few times as he stared at the dish.

"There's no…" he trailed off for a moment, brain still chugging like an old computer "there's no bugs in this"

"Apologies, no, there isn't. I didn't think humans would want any- nevermind, there's plenty left, I'll go get you some,"

The snake had his hands on the table, ready to stand, so Remy shook his head as much as he could without pain. Which wasn't much.

"Um, no thank you, on the bugs. I will have a drink though?"

"Absolutely, I'll go and get that, what would you like? We have all sorts of juice, or some milk -"

"Chocolate milk!" the slimy child cheered, happily pouring his own cup of milk all over his own food. The snake man simply sighed and gently took the cup off him, the child gleefully tucking into his meal.

"I'll refill your cup, Remus, and for you?"

Remy gulped as the man's gaze turned to him, unnerving eyes unblinking.

"Oh, just a water, that'll be fine…" easier to taste if anythings amiss, too

"Certainly, I'll go and get you a cup"

With that the man slivered off, still cradling the little spider in his hands, who in turn was still nibbling at a bit of pasta.

Remy relaxed his shoulders slightly, now only stuck with two unknown creatures instead of four, and no closer to knowing how the fuck he was getting home.

"Is your head still hurting, kiddo?" the frog asked, all gentle and caring.

Caught off guard by the absolute mind-fuck of the situation, and probably still rather concussed, Remy barked a harsh laugh and stabbed some pasta with his fork.

"Yeah, gurl, it's killing me."

EARLIER

Logan made his way into work, a duffle bag full of toys and equipment to be used for today. He'd admittedly gotten rather enamoured with videos of various sea creatures being trained, and had raided a few stores in search of some tools for training. Very exciting.

The main reception was bustling with employees, security, and many people Logan didn't realise. With a frown he walked over to the desk to ask Dot, who was speaking to a militant-type person looking rather frazzled. She glanced at him with disinterest, before seemingly registering who it was, and jumping.

"Dr. Sanders! Just the man we need. There's been a security breach!"

Logan blinked, trying to decipher why a security breach would require him in particular, before recalling the incident of his little creatures almost being abducted, and nodded confidently.

"Ah, yes. Well I'm happy this is getting pursued with importance - will I be filling out a statement?"

"Yes, sir, we'll be interviewing soon but we need to ask you a very important question," the militant asked, hands on their hips and looking rather serious "Are you aware of where your intern is at this current moment?"

"Remy? He should've been here before me, I assumed he'd have spoken to one of you. He was with me, I'm sure his statement would also be valuable"

The person looked up from their notepad, frowning slightly, "With all due respect, sir, it's him we're looking for. We have four staff members all confirming that he took off at  around seven forty am with the new specimens signed under your care."

"WHAT?"

He didn't even acknowledge the way everyone looked over at his yell, too shocked to believe that Remy was being accused of something so serious. And he knew exactly who had actually done it, it had to have been the same scientists trying before.

" Calm down, sir, we really need you to cooperate in helping us find him. He's still a minor, so I'm sure his sentence won't be as severe" the person tried to soothe, but Logan shrugged it off - stupid lies, even though Remy didn't do anything, Logan had no doubt if caught they'd slap the maximum punishment and stick as much stuff in him as possible.

The creatures were of extreme scientific interest and potentially dangerous, he wouldn't be surprised if they tried to claim Remy was attempting some form of terrorism with their destructive saliva. He winced at the thought.

"I wish to see the state of my laboratory, and I won't be making any statements until both me and my intern have attorneys."

" Dr Sanders, please-"

"Absolutely not! I can't believe you're accusing Remy, his record is perfect!"

"I don't understand!" they huffed, hands thrown up "You were cooperating five minutes ago!"

"I thought you were talking about the break in that happened in the labs, two days ago!"

"We weren't informed of any break in except for the one today"

"Four individuals with staff members ids were trying to transport my - the specimens away, claiming they'd had permission to sell them!"

"A very serious accusation, did you report this?"

"Not at the time, I-" he took a deep breath, no use losing his composure, Remy needed him to sort this "I should've filed a report and pulled up the scientists involved but I didn't, and I apologise, I was preoccupied trying to pull both creatures out of the distressed state they were in"

"Hmm" they mumbled, like they didn't quite believe him "Well now you're here, you won't be allowed to leave. These creatures are not only a massive breakthrough scientifically, but potentially lethal in the wrong hands. This is a government matter now."

"What? You can't just, keep us all in here!"

"Just you, and those that work on your floor and department. But yeah, we can. You've got all your needs met, the canteen is open, bathrooms, you can sleep on them benches if you really want --"

Logan scowled, dread crawling up his spine as he stared off at them. This was not good, not good at all. The militant simply smiled sharply, jerking their head to the elevator.

" C'mon, I'll walk you to your lab. See if the mess your intern left it in can convince you to talk."

[kichimiangra]

So who else thinks that Billy Hatcher from Billy Hatcher and the Giant Egg should have a 2 or 3 volume manga series where he has an edgy Shadow the Hedgehog rival who is the bird themed Magical Boy Warrior for the Crow baddies?

Like, I already figured out his backstory.

Him and Billy where friends but he moved away but they promised to stay friends. This incel friend though refused to make new friends cuz y'know, even apart he's still got Billy as his BFFFF Forever so he's fine with his self imposed loneliness but not really. Especially because him and Billy agreed to hang out once summer vacation starts and he can Visit his old home town and see Billy.

It's the first day of summer vacation and Billy and his canon friends made plans to spend it doing this tour thing where they're going to visit dynamic places (based around the levels in the game like circus park, or the frozen mountain etc) and he wakes up late completely forgetting that his Incel friend would be visiting and was suppossed to pick him up from the train station but is also going to be late to meet up with his friends to hop on the tour bus with them so he runs off to meet his canon friends. Luckily nothing's wrong with this because the readers don't know about incel friend yet!

So it's like the opening FMV cutscene. He goes to his friends, they chide him for being late, he saves a chicken and gets usekai'd to chicken world to became a chicken based magical girl and rescue the 6 Chicken Elders and find the wish granting Giant Egg and stop Dark Raven.

So plot line 1 is the Forest Village level where Billy doesn't have the chicken suit but has to find it and maybe there's some chicks who are like "why would our chicken God Menie-Fudie have an outsider don the legendary suit? Screw you outsider we'll find it first and save out own village!" And Billy has to go after them and prove he's brave protecting then from the boss and this is how he gets his first emblem of bravery, the suit, and saves the first Elder. Boom. Adapted for comic. Incel friend is not in this part of the story. If he is it's vaguely hinted at.

Next is Dino Mountain and we have Billy meeting up with Rolly in the story now who already got her suit to be the magical girl chicken guardian of the level. She's not doing a super good job combating the local Crows in the area because she's still the pure bubbly character who needs to get a quick arc where she learns sometimes you gotta FIGHT for peace and not just ask for it. She DOES defeat the area boss by being compassionate to the resurrected dinosaur who is being forced to fight for the crows and through said compassion turns on the crow boss and Rolly gets her emblem of courage for having the courage to determine when to fight and when to care, even if it seems more difficult. Unlike the game Rolly stays behind to guard Dino Mountain so the immediate cast doesn't get too big. Before facing the boss though there's the "Rolly kidnapped by the crows" plot which all the "Friends kidnapped" plots are orchestrated by Incel friend who was also brought to chicken land. Depending on how open vs hiding in the shadows he is Billy just thinks he's been kidnapped by the crows or some shit.

(Yes I am aware that Rolly's level is Pirate Isle but I really wanted her to use the power of love and friendship on the giant dinosaur skeleton and really it doesn't make much difference where his friends get picked up honestly...)

The next place is Pirate isle and I haven't decided what happens here but second verse same as the first. He meets up with Chick Poacher, Chick's gotta learn a thing. There's kidnapping involved. Incel friend shows up to cause some trouble making the readers go "Who is this Original character Donut steal??" Bull crap. Same goes for Bantam.

Billy finally gets to confront Incel friend (Who I just now decided is going to be named Rook, or Jackdaw, which are types of crows) in circus park. Maybe a Circus was important to their friendship or some shit? I dunno and this is when we finally get the rest of the OC's backstory which, yes, he is acting like a jealous girlfriend. Billy overslept for picking him up at the train so he was butthurt but going to tolerate it, only to almost be at his house when Billy goes running off. He follows him only to find him talking with his friends about all the stuff they're going to spend all summer doing and gets full dose of unreasonable butthurt and misunderstanding. Because like... How dare my friend have more friends other than myself? /I/ didn't friend cheat on HIM! I literally made ZERO friends! How DARE he not only NOT BE AS LONELY AS I WAS but now he has REPLACED ME TO THE POINT WERE HE'S DITCHING ME ON OUR PROMISED HANG OUT FOR SUMMER?! WELL FUG U TOO BILLY! And the crow from the opening brought him to Chicken Land. Maybe there was a legendary chicken suit for circus park as well and Rook would potentially be the 5th member of the chicken team, but he uses Billy to get it and corrupt it into a crow themed suit instead. He's the dark magical girl!

Billy saves the elder but doesn't get through to Rook. He gets a second emblem of courage for being brave enough to stand up to a friend when they're doing a wrong but it doesn't make Billy feel better because previously it would be his friends who did the brave and got the emblem, but this time it was his friend who was the bad. Billy vaguely insinuates to himself that he hadn't forgotten Rook but this is third person limited so we won't learn the truth until someone says it.

This moves on to sand ruins where Billy purses Rook who is also hunting down the elder to find the last peice of info about the Giant Egg or floating castle or some shit. This does result in some required team work forcing the two ex friends to stop being little bitches for like 5 minutes where Billy asks Rook why he would help the crows gain ultimate power. Rook tells him "I'm not stupid. I have no intention of actually letting the crows have the giant egg's power." And is planning to betray them and take the egg for himself. When Billy asks what he would even do with a wish granting egg we later learn it's as simple and personal as "to wish Billy's friends away" or "Wish that they can't return to Chicken land but Billy and he stay there" or "Wish that I never moved". Prolly all the above in consideration because he feels/ is acting like a betrayed jealous girlfriend.

Also let's refit the "Two chickens facing eachother" puzzle into something about these two working together and making up. Billy get's to reveal he never forgot or replaced his friend but when he slept in late he wanted to catch up to his canon friends before the tour thing started because he had wanted to bring his canon friends to the train station to meet his bffff and bring him on the fun summer tour too. Haha misunderstandings and jumping to conclusions is A+ writing! This friendship reunion doesn't last long because boss monster or main villain kidnaps Rook once the path to the giant egg is open and shit and now Billy has to go save ANOTHER friend.

Shounen power of friendship everyone shows up in the ending-ending. They get sent back to their world and miss the bus, but decide they already had their adventure and will have just as much fun chilling together and getting to know Billy's friend. Now Rook has FWENDS. Da end.

[uzumakiusagi26]

Hi @macrauchenia! Here is your gift for @tog-secret-santa! Hope you like it!

A day from a leader's life!

Summary: Rak is a great leader and has many responsibilities. It's not always easy to take care of them, but is nothing he can't he handle.

Warning: This story take place in the Season 3 of the webtoon so it contains some spoilers.

Rak Wraithraiser is the great leader of the most known team from the Tower. Rak knows that, as a big and fantastic leader like him, he has a lot of important things to do every day. It's hard, but he is strong and he wants to get stronger.

And because he has so many things to do he made a list:

1.Go to sleep early so you can get stronger

2.Wake up early so you can get stronger

3.Drink water so you can get stronger

4.Eat so you can get stronger

5.Train so you can get stronger

6.Get stronger so you can be stronger and so you can punch blue turtle when he makes fun of you

These are his normal duties every day. Simple, but helpful.

But as a great leader, he has more duties than the normal ones. Because a leader has to make sure his teammates are in a good condition.

Sounds easy? Well..most of it is easy.

He has good teammates. The warrior turtle and tracksuit turtle are the most responsible turtles from his team. They know the importance of a good schedule and they take care of their health as everyone should do. The red turtle and useless turtle don't disturb Rak, because even if they don't do much, they eat and drink as much as not to make Rak worry for their health. The lizard and the ghost eyeball turtle are making his life hard sometimes but is nothing he can't deal with. Even the new turtles that joined their team, like the big-eyed turtle, are having normal schedules so Rak doesn't have to worry about them.

But in every team exist the black sheep. In Rak's team, these black sheep are a certain blue turtle and black turtle. Rak is 100% sure that two turtles never heard about a good schedule before or about taking care of their health. Oh, no! Because these two are the most self-sacrificing,  STUPID turtles Rak ever seen.

Every day, he has to take care of them to not push themself too much and every day Rak feels he lose his sanity a little bit more.

But as a responsible person, he made a list of how to take care of the two idiots too.

First, he has to wake both of them up. This is the easiest part because the three of them go to sleep together, so he knows his turtles slept enough to have the energy for the day. But sometimes, they like to fuck his brain cells and that morning was one of these special times in which Rak knew his sanity will deteriorate.

When Rak woke up, no one was in the room. He sighed knowing what is going to happen and went down to the kitchen.

Exactly as he expected, the blue turtle was typing on his light-sparkling cube with a mug in his hand and the black turtle was arranging on the table the plates with food.

"Black turtle, you made the breakfast for everyone...again?"

"...yes"

"From when are you awake?"

"Uhm...5 minutes?"

"YOU CAN'T MAKE BREAKFAST FOR EVERYONE IN 5 MINUTES!"

Rak felt a vein was going to explode. He approached by Khun and looked straight in his eyes.

"And you, blue turtle? When did you wake up?"

"10 minutes ago and I made myself some coffee! Now leave me alone, stupid gator.

Rak looked around and spotted on table three other empty mugs in which he was sure there was coffee. Rak felt his blood boiling.

"That's your fourth coffee, blue turtle!" Rak said and Khun twitched. Rak knew he caught Khun with the lie. He wanted to punch both of them, but he refrained.

"....I can drink 4 coffees in 10 minutes!"

"THAT'S WORSE!"

Rak grabbed with his claws the two boys and threw them back in the bedroom, ignoring their complaints.

"Each turtle needs to sleep for 8 hours! Go back to sleep! I'll wake you in an hour!" He heard the two groan, but Rak knew they were going to do what Rak told them. Even if they do stupid things like this, Rak can trust his turtles.

"Stupid turtles, ruining my schedule!" Rak murmured, going back in the kitchen to make sure his other teammates turtles are taking care of themself.

The second thing he has to do is to make sure the two turtles eat properly. And this is where the chaos starts.

Black turtle doesn't have a big problem with eating adequately. He learned in FUG the importance of three meals in a day and 2-3 snacks. The black turtle's biggest problem is that he forgets to drink water. But this problem is always quickly resolved by Rak throwing a bottle of water in the black turtles' head and says: "Drink it!".

Instead, the blue turtle is eating his days! If Rak can make that idiot have three meals a day he can consider it a big victory.

"BLUE TURTLE THAT'S YOUR FIFTH COFFEE AND YOU HAVEN'T EATEN ANYTHING YET!"

"I am not hungry! I'll eat later."

"THEN STOP DRINK COFFE!"

"I need coffee to function!"

"EAT SOMETHING AND DRINK WATER!"

"NO!"

Rak feels his blood boiling. If this is how he wants to play, then let's have fun.

"Gator what are doing? PUT ME DOWN!"

"Blue turtle refuses to eat, then I have to make him do it."

"I already have told you I am not hungry...mhmp!" Khun couldn't finish his sentence, because Rak shoved a spoon with food. (because the others can't cook, all the food was prepared by Bam, so no one was poisoned!)

"If the blue turtle doesn't want to eat alone, I have to force him! You can try to escape, but nor you nor I will leave this place until the plate is empty. Oh, I almost forgot about the water."

"Gator..."

"More you complain more we will stay here!"

Khun shut up and ate.

The third thing Rak has to do is to make sure his turtles are training in a proper way. And by a proper way, he means he has to make sure these stupid turtles don't overwork themself.

At this part, the blue turtle is more reasonable, because even with his firefish, his stamina is not the best. Khun's problem is when he is working on his lighthouse too much, but Rak knows how to handle this. All he has to do is throw himself on the lighthouse and Khun will stop, because he knows Rak will do that again if he continues his work. On the other place, the black turtle... likes to eat Rak's brain cells.

"Black turtle, the training finished! Why are you still here?"

"Huh? Oh, uhm...I wanted to practice a bit more, so I remained after you all left."

"Wait...you were here all this time?"

"...maybe."

"THE TRAINING FINISHED 4 HOURS AGO!"

"Uhm...yeah, but I really need to practice this attack more so I can b able to use it in the next battle..."

"I DO NOT CARE! IF I CAN FORCE BLUE TURTLE TO EAT, I CAN FORCE BLACK TURTLE TO STOP TRAINING TOO!"

Rak took Bam and put him over his own shoulder and left the training room. Bam said nothing, knowing the fact that even the smallest sound will make Rak even angrier.

The fourth thing Rak has to do is to make sure his turtles go to sleep at a decent hour. This is both the duty Rak detest the most and the one that makes Rak's life a living hell. Why? Because those two can go 3 days without sleeping if Rak wouldn't be there. But even if it is hard, Rak has a perfect plan.

The first step is to find the two turtles. This is the easiest part because he knows exactly where they can be. If they are not in the kitchen or their room then...

Bam is, again, in the training room.

"Black turtle?"

Bam looked at his friend a little scared, knowing Rak is going to scream at him.

"Time to sleep."

"It's just 11 pm! I am not tired so I'll stay..."

"I DIDN'T ASK IF YOU ARE TIRED OR NOT! I SAID IT'S TIME TO SLEEP, I DIDN'T ASK IF 'YOU WANT TO GO TO SLEEP'!" Rak grabbed Bam by his waist with his claw and took him up going to get the blue turtle. Bam said nothing more.

Khun could be in just one place...his office.

"Blue turtle, time to sleep!"

"You don't know to knock at the door? And what are doing with Bam?"

"The same thing I am going to do with you too...put you to sleep."

"What? You are not my mother. I can go to sleep when I want!"

"You understood wrong, just like the black, turtle so I will explain again: I DIDN'T ASK IF YOU WANT OR NOT TO GO TO SLEEP!"

Rak took Khun in the same way he took Bam and went to their room, throwing the two boys in their beds.

"Ugh...gator! I have plans and strategies for the war to do! I don't have time to play with you!"

"Khun..calm down a bit, please. I don't Rak is playing."

"Black turtle is right, blue turtle! Now go to sleep!"

Here comes the second step begins: Make these two sleep.

"I said sleep!"

"We can't fall asleep in 5 minutes, gator!"

"IT PASSED AN HOUR ALREADY!"

"Sorry, Rak...me and Khun aren't used to go to sleep this early!"

"Yeah...I mostly go to sleep at 4 am."

"Same or an hour earlier."

"THIS IS NOT A PROPERLY, GOOD AND RESPONSIBLE BEHAVIOR! You two sleep or I will apply force and I am sure none of us want this scenario to happen, but if I have to I will."

Another hour passed and finally, to Rak's happiness, his turtles fell asleep. Rak sighed and took two blankets and covered Khun and Bam. He sat down on the floor, looking at them, his eyes softened at the sight of the two sleeping boys.

Rak finished all his duties so, he can finally relax. He kissed the two boy's foreheads and stayed in the silence of the night, the only noise that could be heard was their heartbeats.

As he always does, Rak stays and looks at Khun and Bam, and remembered everything they went through. He remembered how many times he almost lost them, how they thought Bam was dead for 7 years, how Khun became cold and closed his feelings in him. How Bam was hurt by Rachel again. How he almost lost Khun because of Rachel and how for two years he was in a coma. He almost lost the blue turtle again after they woke him up. His turtles are always in danger and Rak...and Rak is afraid that he will lose them.

Tears were falling from Rak's red eyes because just when he is alone with the night he can give free rein to the emotions he hid in his big heart because behind his mask of a strong leader, Rak was a good friend who cares about his two precious turtles.

And...as in every night, he put his claws on the two sleeping boys' hearts, wanting to make sure these two are still there with him. He was watching at them and said:

"God Turtle...if you really exist, please listen to my prayer. I will make sure these two will eat and drink water. I will make sure they won't overwork themself and I will make sure they will sleep 8 hours. I will make sure they are not hurt. I will take care of their health. I will even make these two idiots realize they are in love with each other. I will get stronger so I can protect them. I will fight for their safety.  I will do all of these things so please God Turtle...please...if you really are there...if you really exist...please...I'll do everything I need to do to take care of them so please...don't take blue turtle and black turtle away from me again."

[hoaqins-funk-house]

Hoaqin

Yandere Part 1

This room...

A blank box.

One that you had been in for at least a hundred years.

Being sealed was no fun.

"Y/N."

Especially not when you had a clingy brat of a roommate.

"What is it." You ask dryly, rolling over to face the pure white boy. 

"I'm hungry." 

"Sucks." 

He huffs, brows furrowed. "When I get out of here, you're going to see my power."

"Uh huh." Your half-lidded eyes meet his, your head propped up on your hand.

"You won't be acting so nonchalant when I become one! I'll show you how strong I am!"

"I'm sure you will."

You yawn. It wasn't the first time he had told you this. Your eyes reopen as you hear stomping coming closer, the boy now standing over you. He was clearly annoyed. "Is something the matter?" You drawl.

"You're not taking me seriously."

"Maybe I would if you hadn't told me all about this before. I'm not doubting you, you seem pretty convinced of it."

His eye twitches. "You'll see. You'll see when I become complete. You'll be mine."

"Cool." You yawn again. "Can I sleep now?"

"You're effectively immortal, why do you sleep so damn much?!" 

"It's a good way to pass the time.”

He hums, sitting down next to you as his previous irritation seems to dissipate. You meet eyes, you lazily blinking before you yawn once more. "G'night, Hoaqin."

It took less than half a minute for you to fall into a deep sleep. 

His eyes stay on you, his chest heaving with a sigh. 

You sleep to pass time, huh?

Perhaps he should try it too. 

Laying down, he faces you. 

You...

You didn't know who he was, and he didn't know who you were, or even how you got here before him.

But still. You would be his. He wouldn't eat you.

He just had to wait for someone to awaken him. 

-

After a few years passed, he decided to ask. 

"Y/N. How did you get trapped here?"

Your eyes move from the ceiling to him. "How did I get here...? Well, It's pretty simple." You pause, sitting up and placing your hands on your knees. "I came onto the Hell Train with a team, and in order to continue with it, we needed to sacrifice a Wave Controller to be sealed. That was me. I was finally reawakened by you being sealed, but I was subsequently locked in as well, now conscious. And so, now we're here."

He nods. "Well, it would only be proper manners for me to speak a bit more about myself. Have you heard of FUG?"

You nod. "Yeah. They're kinda like... rebels. That double as cultists."

He sighs. "Well I was a Slayer of theirs. In my complete form, that is." Looking over to you, he tries to find any hint of fear or distress. Instead, all he gets is your blank stare. 

"Are you not in the least bit worried?" He asks, confused. 

"No. My death doesn't really matter to me. Plus, you seem like the type to at least kill me quickly."

"You don't care about your own life?!" Appalled, he steps closer to you.

"Why should I?" You ask nonchalantly. "I’ve wandered up the floors with who knows how many teams, but the only reason I continued on was because it was requested of me.”

His eyes narrow. He didn't like it. How you were completely fine with dying, how little you cared for your life...

How lifeless you already seemed to be.

His silver eyes pierce into your own, a scowl on his face.

"You're going to stay alive, even if I have to drag you up from hell." 

The corners of your lips twitch up, and for a moment, you don't look as blank, as tired. You were, for a brief second, brighter than a star.

Hoaqin needed to see more, more of that smile.

-

It took a while for him to ask.

"Who... who asked you to climb the tower? And what exactly did they ask of you?" 

Your dull eyes drop to the floor. "He was a Lightbearer. He wasn't from any royal family, but he had power. Not in any real, tangible way, though. His strength came from his words, from his charisma. He and I met on the Testing Floor. I was there to take on the challenge, with no real goal set. He..."

You pause, thinking. "He wanted to, strangely enough, climb in order to gain comrades. He was looking for companions. So I joined. I planned on leaving, but his damned words stuck to me. He didn’t make it past the next floor. But, he still made sure to ask me to climb for him, and make friends. According to him, I was ‘the most unsociable thing he knew since a rock.’”

 Your gaze shifts up. “I did try. I tried over and over, but none of them lasted for very long, all dying. After a little while, no one would join me. I was called cursed or a team killer, so eventually I just hopped on this train. I found some people who had no choice but to join me.”

Hoaqin was stunned. For a normal Regular, watching their entire team die in front of them over and over would be enough to destroy them, but you...

For you, it just seemed to make you apathetic. Lethargic. 

You just... didn't seem to care.

"Well, I can assure you I won't be dying any time soon."

"Of course you can. I'd guess we're gonna be locked in here for a while longer."

He rolls his eyes.

-

His head rests in your lap, his hair being carefully combed through by your fingers. He was calm, nearly completely at peace as you did so. You were silent, clearly deep in thought as your eyes seemed to be glazed over. 

His silver eyes open, looking over your face. 

When he became complete, would you be proud? Would you be happy? 

Even if he didn't become fully complete, would he get to see your smile again?

He needed to at least get close to being complete for you to become his. This childlike body was hindering him, and it frustrated him considering his age and previous growth. 

Sighing, his eyes close once more, feeling the gentle tug of sleep as it began to take him away. 

Your eyes clear as you hear light snores, finding the source rather quickly. You continue brushing through his hair.

In a strange way, you were glad that he was with you. It gave you company; you weren't just sealed forever, or locked in a room all alone.

You look up at the ceiling. Yawning, your eyes close. 

If he was sleeping, you would too.

-

Your eyes followed the Slayer as he paced around the room, thinking about something or other.

Your hand was propping your head up, you still laying down.

"What's troublin' you?" You ask, him pausing before walking over to you and sitting down with a huff. 

"My siblings... They're scattered all around this damned train. I have no clue how long it will take to rejoin with them once we get out of here."

You shrug. "You can worry about that later." 

"Can I? It is a very real problem." 

"I guess. But still, you seem like you have weirdly good luck. I wouldn't worry too much." You close your eyes, not trying to sleep as much as think.

He looks over your calm face, brows furrowed. You were so relaxed, constantly. To the point of being unemotional. He had only seen a smile once, and that was really the only change in expression he had ever noticed.

Sighing, he lays down next to you again, this time wrapping his arms around you. His eyes close as yours snap open, wider than before. 

He, of course, missed this, but you were shocked. Your lips part slightly, soon closing. You didn't really have anything to say. Seeing as you started using one arm as a pillow, the other one ended up over his side. 

This kid (well, not really a kid, but physically so), seemed pretty keen on keeping you around. 

You really didn't mind.

[towerofgodscreamblogwink]

reading last chap of s2 after covering several chapters yesterday, also since it's end of the season, for once I put some bigger serious thoughts at the end

who the FUCK ARE YOU PEOPLE???

OH MY GOD KARAKA IS TSUNDERE

there are OTHER slayers?? (except fucking ex white)  if they mentioned it earlier i must’ve forgot

that’s not how to talk to your daddy greatest

 -(no i don’t like jahad i’m here to bully karaka because i tend to bully my faves)

*punches table* rabbit boy. get out. i have not sighed so loud in my entire life

oh i see why people were calling them furries.

listen, you either give us catboys or leave.

please don’t say “creatures” if it’s like your furry way of talking

that guy: not to worry he has a permit

gustang: *pulls out paper* “i can get whatever i want”

i’ve read “gremlin” im dONE

you know what maybe i should just go to bed rn

also cat is destroying my door dear lord

ok so it’s the next day now

“ahahaha”

“I can’t read...”

SHIT I HAVEN’T NOTICED RACHEL GOT TELEPORTED

erh i’m dumb on this one, why have they made this parallels?

I don’t want to tell you this but he just reminded me of chara undertale...

wangan: onii-chan!?

wait what

ouch

soooo karaka believes wangan’s story even w/o ring then?

*spits tea* ow goddammit not the feels

anyhoo that’s the end of s2, siu put a note about break but yeah that was years ago, so pretty sure i’ll be starting s3 even now but i won’t be posting it rn

anyhoo well that was suprisingly long season? my usual knowledge of “Seasons” is usually from anime, and these tend to have seasons with usual 2 or 3 arcs but they usually don’t go in so many different directions 

personally it feels like half of season 2 is a season on it’s own tbh, and maybe that’s how anime could adapt it, perhaps? although 12 episodes would work best with just setting on saving bam from fug.. either anime would make the seasons in parts like aot did with s3 or have lots and lots of seasons, since probability of anime getting 24 episodes has gotten awfully small those years

As for the opinions on season 2... I see first half and season on it’s own, so let’s start from this - Bam getting rescued, and first time they enter hell train. First of all, Bam as Viole is absolutely nailing this, and I wouldn’t mind having Viole as protagonist to be honest, although it would be indeed sad as Viole is not the happiest person, but damn is he a cutie. Is he a baby. 

Wangan - oh dear I dunno if others saw the plot twist coming, but I did not - I have absolutely been viewing him as Bam’s counterpart to his Viole side, just a complete shounen protagonist who’s completely ordinary. Boy was I w ro n g. I only remember vaguely being sus about him when Viole has mentioned his ring, but that was about it, as it was never mentioned again, I forgot about it. And then it appeared Karaka has this ring. Boy was I shooketh.

I don’t think I exactly liked the further progression though until Wangan’s story was revealed - until then he kinda fell into background, and then soon again as said story was revealed. However I do know Siu has big plans with him, and at this point I know Siu’s writing enough, so I don’t have much worries about his further progression

Also sadly there was no Karaka-Wangan brother bonding

Next in mind I have Khun, naturally, as he’s my icy hot favourite. I don’t really know why even, when I saw him in anime I was quite indifferent about him. So if you want me to explain why do I like khun, I can’t really explain. Other than when he was becoming my favourite, I remember being dissappointed in myself and making a post to myself “Goddammit don’t fall for him just because he’s your type” and he’s not even really my type in terms of personality, but at that point I was jsut shrugging it off, maybe it was his childish over-dramatic posture contrasting his cold personality because I just hit that protect button

Also yes I may be basic just slap me already

And before I’ll start talking: girl’s scout outfit, really? I support my son and I can understand his edgy and k-pop fashion... But I’d be lying if I said I understood him for shit at that moment

So now that we’re past back... I was actually recently re-reading first chapters, and damn, the difference of Khun before Bam was rescued - was rather intriguing. He was laughing his ass off at silly things (his team being dressed silly) but oh sweetie did it feel weird.

Next, I keep thinking about him on the train obliberating Rachel - despite popular opinion, his cockiness was actually getting on my nerves, and only thing saving it, was his reasons were Bam - so in other words, at least he wasn’t an asshat for his own sake.

I much liked his personality during second half of the season 2 - as much as there wasn’t much khunbam content - seems like Khun has grown as a person,as his cocky aura much disappeared as he became more understanding towards his own weaknesses. Now his “cockiness” became rather entertaining if you catch my drift, because despite his jerk nature, he *is* well aware of his flaws, and I just like that. Not that he *wasn’t* considerate of that already, but the hidden floor really did wonders on him.

And dear my, his relationship with Bam. I’ll be honest, at some point during reading first half of season 2, I felt like I was reading romance story between him and Bam. It was all the little things, like playing with Rachel just to know Bam’s past, Khun noticing Bam was uncomfortable with Viole wig, Khun being near Bam as he spoke he has no reasons to live, Khun standing up for Bam when strangers tried to use him and Isu asked for his help but skipped the asking part, Khun looking back to Bam telling him he’ll be back when going to catch the fish on train, Khun trying to talk to him when Bam locked himself up in his room on train, constantly checking and finally waiting in his room when he notices Bam is gone, Khun noticing lack of Bam’s presence before going to floor of death right *after* he just said he feels like world is ending if Bam isn’t here, and then beeming when Bam does in fact appears. And that’s just all the stuff I can remember right now, and I mean the *little* things. The big things are the ones we know well - “So that I can always chase” and the famous world one I don’t have to quote.

Second half didn’t have much scenes, but there were few that did stuck to me - Bam’s line to Kiseia how he understands why she hates him, but he’ll do everything he can to stop her if she plans to harm Khun *again*. Because it seemed like Bam kind of moved on from Khun getting stabbed by his sis, but that panel did show that not only it *did* stay with him, it also stayed with him that it was *Kiseia* who hurt him.

Another scene was the one I don’t think I need to talk about much, as we all pretty understand - moment of Khun and Eduan awkward father-son bonding. Khun tries to close himself off, but Bam reaches out, and forces him out of comfort zone

But what mostly stuck out to me, was his behaviour after Khun became kinda dead. It was the way he spoke to endorsi and rest, how *he’s* going to take khun and follow the *harder* path, and anyone who *don’t want to come*, can take the easier one. Basically, he was prepared to go the harder route completely alone because it meant taking Khun with him, and he was just, prepared to go without any help, he only optionally added that others can join if they *want* to.

Another interesting scene, was Hwaryun calling him out, when few of his teammates has been captured, due to them taking the different path from Bam - but if they are meant to escape with Khun, they have to leave them, and when Bam gets steamy about it, Hwaryun goes - “I didn’t choose the teams. You’ve chosen them based on who matters more.” It’s so subtle, so cruel, yet intriguing - one of the most worst way to tell someone he cares for someone else more - she’s only saying Khun mattered to him more, but in this context, it sounds accusing, making Bam’s decision selfish. And that’s something that’s absolutely in my mind - his care for Khun, called out in “accusing” matter - as something that stopped him from commiting other decision - as something he’s willing to priotize others over.

So I can’t stop thinking about that, and truthfully? That last “take care of Khun after me.” line.

But the other line from bam’s monolouge that gets me is “Wait a bit more Khun... I’ll wake you up again.” That “again” gets to me, but I can’t really explain it. Maybe it’s the way he looks at Khun longily. 

So this covers their relationship, and I think I’m only gonna mention Bam now real quick and perhaps Eudan and Jahad, because the post’s getting long and I don’t want to make *this* post specifically long.

I don’t have much to say about Bam, as Bam himself doesn’t have much to say about him. He didn’t have much definying features or characteristics besides the time he was Viole, but you have to hand it to him for growing after meeting after she pushed him for the first time - it was still hard to say anything about him though. For several chapters later - as well, except he did manage to develop the traits of self-sacriface, and actual resolve to save everyone - because he talks about *always* and sure fights for his friends, but who doesn’t? Where his personality shines in this regard, is in the moment of Bam saving his enemies with no questions asked, and White by the way definetely helped Bam to develop his personality for sure.

But either way I’m here roasting Bam, while my goal was to say, that it was in the hidden floor where I’ve actually started recognizing him as his own character - it was in the moment of him having final confrontation with Viole, I finally saw what kind of person he was. And I liked it, he became a solid character in that moment, accompanied by proper flashbacks and exploration. And Bam continues to be then written quite consinstely as in one of later flashbacks, he indeed says, what he said to Viole a while ago - he’s afraid of being alone. Not only that, the internal conflict was added - is he a monster? is he not? It’s simple conflict but can do wonders, and it’s not something that Bam even thinks about, it’s more of a really subtle conflict within a character design itself, rather than Bam.

So basically now Bam indeed feels more of an actual character

And before I’ll end it for now, I want to mention the meeting of young Eudan, andyoung Jahad - truth to be told, I don’t have most unique feelings towards them as anyone sees the point - the adventures with pure intentions turned evil, aka how everyone can turn evil. What makes me more interested, is how Siu has used it for storytelling... Main characters having a big meeting with the younger versions of villians? Haven’t seen that one yet, so I’m interested what direction Siu will take with it, since this is my first time seeing it, so I’m really curious how exactly you can utilize such scenes in terms of long planned story, and not only how they affect story as a whole, but how they also affect just aspects of it as well.

So, that’d be it on my commentary and small “opinion” on season 2. It wasn’t like I exactly wanted  to put it here, but I wanted the end of season 2 to have more meaning to myself. But not only to have a meaning to myself *just* for my own reasons, but because I didn’t want to leave the whole season with nothing but small comments there and there. I wanted my experience altogether to be something bigger - but not only experience, but my “legacy” as well. So, that’d be about it x2, if you’re still reading, congratulations, I appreciate that, and you get an apple

[cetaceass]

hi, hope ur having a good day 🥺💖 ! can i request a scenario of khun aguero agnis from tower of god, possibly during the workshop arc, current au and he accidentally bumped into the reader who had joined fug along with bam. khun thought that they had died and the first thing he said was "holy shit you're alive...!?" & for gender it doesn't really matter so just use 'they'

I am having a splendid day! Thank you for asking! I hope you're having a fantastic day as well! Thank you for your patience and your request! I hope it's to your liking! 🥺💖

Con mucho amor <3

wc: 963

| That’s How Much I Love You |

Khun Aguero Agnis x Gen!Reader 

MANHWA SPOILERS AHEAD

. . . .

How many people can one promise to be loyal to the end the moment you meet someone? It's a rather absurd and naive thing to do. Anyone with a brain can understand that doing that is just plain stupid, especially in the tower, where one must be killed or stepped on in order to accomplish their wish upon reaching the top.

But that's what you did.

You pledged your loyalty to a stranger, someone you never spoken to because you had a gut feeling that Bam was special and you wanted in on the adventure of a lifetime.

"Is this what it feels like to be under a microscope?" You sat down next to Khun and tapped your lips with your spoon in a pensive manner before scooping some of your food. "Cause I don't mind being watched by your eyes for your research purposes."

He vividly remembers the warmth held in your eyes. It was clear that you were joking with him and you didn't seem to radiate with malicious intent. You spoke to him, kindness evident in your voice and the aura of freedom whenever he was around you.

"The moment we show weakness, we'll die. You can only trust yourself. Cover your ears, close your heart and find the best path."

He followed exactly what his sister had told him. He had closed his heart, he relied on only himself, and did the best to find the perfect path to pave the way, yet, you somehow sneaked unnoticed by him. By the time he realized you entered his heart and invaded his mind, it was too late.

Both for you and for him.

The crashing of waves broke Khun's train of thought on that day. He watched the water pull back before rapidly rising into a small wall of water and heavily crashing down onto the jagged rocks at bay below him. The sounds of the ocean eased him. It made him wonder what you would have thought of seeing a view like this; open, free, beautiful, fascinating, and eye-pleasing.

Just like you.

"Come on, Khun! We gotta get to the workshop and see the others!"

"I'll be right there with you in a second." He glanced at the view one more time taking it in. He was coming back to this room tomorrow, but it felt like he was leaving you. With a sigh, Khun walked towards the door and easily caught up with the rest of his companions.

The entire time, the image of you never once left his mind and the though of seeing you once more pained him. But deep down, he knew you were gone. The moment Rachel was spewed from the captured creature during the Administration test, neither Bam or you were with her. He knew he had lost the both of you.

"[Name]?"

So why were you there standing in front of him? You quickly put on your hoodie after the rough bump between the two of you when walking, but a second was enough to see who was hiding under there.

Muttering a curse, you gripped your hoodie tighter and walked passed him, not before you felt a harsh tug on your wrist and was forcibly turned around from the pull.

Your eyes met blue eyes. Oh god, how you missed seeing those electric blue eyes.

"Holy shit, you're alive.."

You didn't have time to answer because he had suddenly pulled you into a tight embrace and you desperately tried not to hug Khun back, but six years without being embraced so lovingly took a huge toll on you.

"Holy shit! You're alive! I-I thought you had died, like Bam.."

You don't regret your decision at all because you pledged yourself loyal to Bam the moment you met him and when he was pushed off by Rachel in the Administration Test, you immediately followed in pursuit, jumping with no hesitation which led to joining F.U.G.

Bam became a slayer and you were treated as his servant by the others. You got used to the deadly glares and the daily threats you would get. It was practically routine for you. Being a servant of the next possible god was a dangerous risk, with lack of strength, you made it up with wit and intellect making you worthy to work alongside the slayer candidate. 

Yet Bam never treated nor viewed as you any less of a friend. You weren't as strong as him--you probably never will be, but you had each other and the promise you gave back in the cafeteria.

Well, half of a promise. You didn't forget the other half, neither did Khun.

You slowly hugged the light bearer back, giving into his warm embrace. "Missed me that much, huh?"

"Yeah, I did."

You cracked a small crooked smile at his blunt response. "I did promise you that my heart will always be with you, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did."

You slightly pulled back to see the face you dreamed about during those restless nights and Khun viewed the face that haunted him endlessly. You leaned your forehead on his.

"Nothing will break us apart, Khun--not even death itself. I'll always come back to you no matter what. That's how much I love you."

“I love you too,” he muttered, before a softly glared at you. “But you do know that you not being physically here is way different than your heart, right?” You lightly laughed. There it was, his typical scolding. “C’mon, I was being cheesy. You like cheesy.”

“Only if it’s from you.”

“Now you’re the one being cheesy.”

“Oh really? I wonder who’s to blame.”

It wasn’t everyday you saw the light and felt a welcoming warmth. You let yourself enjoy this moment of happiness, just this once.

[khunfounded]

Stuck in the Cave

This one is pretty long and serious, birds, and if you are uncomfortable with the discussion of toxic relationships I recommend skipping it. I’ll cut it off before any analysis this time. 

It’s about Rachel and Bam’s tumultuous relationship, so if that interests you, read on.

Tonight we are discussing three songs from the same album, Hospice, which depicts the entirety of a female perpetuated abusive relationship. It has a lot of nuance and treats the both individuals as humans, rather than entirely a monster and an angel.

The songs are Shiva, Kettering, and Epilogue by The Antlers. I’ll have the videos in front of each analysis rather than all at the top to make it less blocky.

Let’s begin with Shiva.

The entirety of Hospice is told through a metaphor about a hospital worker who gets into a toxic relationship with a patient, which I think is really fitting considering the arc of Rachel pretending that she is paralyzed from the waist down.

Suddenly every machine stopped at once And the monitors beeped the last time Hundreds of thousands of hospital beds And all of them empty but mine

I think these lines fit the exact moment that Rachel pushes Bam. For Bam it is sudden, unexpected. Though for Rachel, who metaphorically has been in the hospital bed for a while, it was a long time coming.

The one chance for Rachel to keep their relationship ended with that push, when the monitors beeped the last time, though Bam did not know it yet.

After that, Bam is alone. Even when he is surrounded by people, they are all using him to perpetuate their agenda. So, there are many beds, but there is no one there with Bam, either in a hospital bed or visiting him. Well, I was lying down with my feet in the air Completely unable to move The bed was misshapen, and awkward and tall And clearly intended for you

When Bam is forced into joining Fug, he can’t move. They have him in check. If he does try anything, they will destroy the one good thing he found. The people who would have visited him in the hospital.

These last two lines remind me of when Khun tells Rachel that if she truly cared about Bam, she wouldn’t be coming up the tower while Bam was stuck underneath it. The bed, the ruin, was made for her, but she escaped it by putting Bam in her place.

You checked yourself out when you put me to bed And tore that old band off your wrist But you came back to see me for a minute or less And left me your ring in my fist

The theme of the bed intended for Rachel continues in this stanza. Without anyone (except Fug, who I personally see as the hospital administrators) knowing, she checked herself out of the hospital and placed Bam there instead.

The hospital band is Rachel’s supposed fate of not being worthy of the tower (though you could argue that her cunning and luck actually does make her worthy, but I’m not), which she tore off by sheer force of will.

The minute or less she came to visit him is the push, and the ring (which in the context of the album is a wedding ring) is what is left of their relationship. Bam, because Rachel is so integral to him, is stuck with it, while Rachel is not. He has both rings now, and the relationship is completely one-sided.

For Rachel, to possibility of joining the stars (whether seeing them or becoming one) is worth the dissolution of a completely devoted love. Though, that love of Bam’s is completely healthy, fueled by his loneliness and the fact that for the longest time the only good thing he ever knew was Rachel. She knows this, which is part of why she gives back the ring. She thinks that even if she picks Bam, he will leave her once he is loved and loves other people. My hair started growing, my face became yours My femur was breaking in half The sensation was scissors and too much to scream So instead, I just started to laugh

Now this, this fits so well.

Bam’s hair is such an important part of his character. Not only does it track the years, it also tracks his emotional state. He is at his lowest when it is at its longest, (which is poignant considering the length of Rachel’s), happiest when it’s shortest, and most in control of his destiny when it is in-between, since at that point is able to choose its length.

I think the second half of the stanza represents the mental break and subsequent cognitive dissonance that he goes through because his mind cannot handle the idea of his most precious person betraying him.

Oof, one down two to go. This is tough.

Now, onto Kettering. 

Ouch, this one hurts.

I wish that I had known in that first minute we met The unpayable debt that I owed you Because you'd been abused by the bone that refused you And you hired me to make up for that

Throughout much of the series, Bam believes he owes Rachel a debt because of the hope she gave him in the cave, though in my opinion she did less than the minimum (though no one owes anyone anything, I still believe that sometimes basic human kindness should win out. Well, morality quandaries for another time).

The bone that refused her was her fate of being unworthy of climbing the tower, which everyone and anyone told her whenever they could. Honestly, that would turn me bitter, too. This is a good chunk of why she is so venomous towards Bam, because his fate and outlook are quite literally the opposite of hers.

To Rachel, everything comes so easily to Bam, whilst she has to claw and fight and lie for every scrap that she can. Though, we all know better. Bam’s life is filled with suffering.

Thus, she hires Bam to make up for her destiny. She tries to take his place and put him in hers. Also, she is just fundamentally cruel to him, trying to ruin every good thing he has every chance that she gets. Walking in that room when you had tubes in your arms Those singing morphine alarms out of tune Kept you sleeping and even And I didn't believe them when they called you a hurricane thunderclap

Everyone tells Bam that Rachel is bad news, but he only sees the girl that gave him light and had her chance to climb the tower violently ripped away from her.

It takes Rachel doing to Khun what she has been doing to Bam all this time to get him to realize that he truly does not know her at all. When I was checking vitals I suggested a smile You didn't talk for a while, you were freezing You said you hated my tone, it made you feel so alone And so you told me I ought to be leaving

This is basically a continuation of the theme of Rachel treating Bam cruelly while he tries his best to make her life better.

It reminds me a lot of the moments right before Rachel pushes Bam, and for a few seconds her demeanor shifts, shocking him  But something kept me standing by that hospital bed I should have quit, but instead, I took care of you You made me sleep and uneven And I didn't believe them when they told me that there was no saving you

Bam is stuck standing by Rachel because of his devotion and the toxic relationship that they have created. For the longest time, he tries to find her and take care of her, but she doesn’t want that. She wants to see the stars. Without him.

He doesn’t see it, though, no matter what they people who really love him try to say.

Next, next, next.

It’s the Epilogue.

Finally, we are at a point where Bam realizes how toxic their relationship truly is.

This one is dense, birds.

In a nightmare, I am falling from the ceiling into bed beside you You're asleep, I'm screaming, shoving you to try to wake you up And like before, you've got no interest in the life you live when you're awake Your dreams still follow storylines like fictions you would make

I do not believe for a second that Bam doesn’t have nightmares about Rachel. She is such a large part of his life and his psyche. He must have trauma both about wondering if he could have saved their relationship and what she has done to his loved ones.

Rachel is asleep. She thinks that what she is doing to see the stars is worth it, but Bam knows better. He has lived the destruction and suffering she has caused.

She has no interest for a world where she is unworthy of the tower, so she dreams up a new one and tries to make it real.

So I lie down against your back until we're both back in the hospital But now it's not a cancer ward, we're sleeping in the morgue Men and women in blue and white, they are singing all around you With heavy shovels holding earth, you're being buried to your neck            

In that hospital bed, being buried quite alive now. 

I'm trying to dig you out but all you want is to be buried there together

This again harkens back to the idea of Bam having nightmares about Rachel. The morgue is his fears that what is happening will ruin them both.

The men and women are everyone in the war that are adding onto the pressure and consequences of this fight. In the end, Tower of God truly is about Bam and Rachel’s relationship and all the fallout that it causes

Bam sees that Rachel is being buried by the decisions she has made, and he is slowly being buried, too. Though, unlike Rachel, he is trying to dig their way out and save them both.

You're screaming And cursing And angry And hurting me And then smiling And crying Apologizing

This chorus is haunting, especially because of the singer’s voice (which is even worse if you imagine the singer is Bam) . It is demonstrative of the two faces that Rachel shows, and the abuse that she puts Bam through just to see the stars.

It evokes the image of Rachel and Bam in the meadow after Rachel has been stabbed. Rachel apologizes to Bam, though he does not truly know why. I've woken up, I'm in our bed, but there's no breathing body there beside me Someone must have taken you while I was stuck asleep But I know better as my eyes adjust, you've been gone for quite a while now And I don't work there in the hospital, they had to let me go

After Rachel puts Khun into a coma, Bam wakes up and he sees their relationship for what it truly is. There is still a part of him, though, that wonders what went wrong. 

His eyes are still adjusting, even after he has awoken.

When Bam leaves the hospital, he is leaving their one-sided toxic dynamic, though much like the physical injuries he has suffered, there are still scars.

When I try to move my arms sometimes, they weigh too much to lift I think you buried me awake, my one and only parting gift But you return to me at night just when I think I may have fallen asleep Your face is up against mine, and I'm too terrified to speak

Sometimes, what he has gone through makes it tough for him to go on. I am glad Bam has such a wonderful, loving support system.

Again, nightmares and trauma caused by Rachel. Things like what she has done to Bam never truly leave you. She has gifted him with immense trauma, and scars that may fade to silver but will never disappear. You're screaming And cursing And angry And hurting me And then smiling And crying Apologizing

Thank you for reading, please watch video of puppies after this.

[scenariosbutmakeitgay]

Hi, how are u? May I ask a one-shot with hockney and fem reader who are childhood friend and when hockney return to the the floor of death with baam team he want to take the reader with him to the outside of the floor of death and climb the tower together 👉👈 between ur work is amazing good job❤️❤️

I really can’t write Hockney stuff properly to save my life, sorry-

but here ya go

-

Time on the Floor of Death passed slightly differently – you didn't know when you stopped counting how many years have passed since you came here, nor when one day ended and another began. You found it simply pointless. Perhaps it made some sense when you had company, but Hockney disappeared a long time ago. Or maybe not that long? As stated before, keeping track of time wasn't one of your priorities. The memories of Hockney kept this dull reality a little less monotonous, though.

David Hockney was quite a remarkable individual. The strokes of his brush on empty canvas, deeply engraved in the darkest parts of your mind, were the only things you liked counting. Not minutes, not hours, not days. Hockney was the greatest painter you knew (well, maybe the only one). His moves didn't limit themselves to any particular form of art. All of Hockney's paintings contained a part of him, so they looked more alive, even more divine than any other sketches, and spoke more truths than any poem could. Hockney was both an artist and a muse, and every time his hands touched one of the brushes, his body found itself completely lost in a trance-like state.

You didn't encounter many surprising events on the Floor of Death. After getting used to its bizarre nature, even the most off-putting quirks that this place had to offer became slightly tiresome. There was one thing you would never expect to actually happen, and one sentence you thought you'd never hear, though.

“I'm happy to see you again.”

The crimson signs staining Hockney's eyes contrasted with his ashy skin, making them the first thing you noticed. He seemed taller than before, but you couldn't tell for sure – memory was a tricky thing sometimes.

“Why...” you wanted to ask thousands of questions. When was the last time you saw each other, how had he been, what happened when he was gone? But one thing that intrigued you the most. “Why did you come back?”

Hockney averted his gaze, almost as if he wasn't sure himself. His face remained expressionless, even though you could see how lost he was.

“I want to climb the Tower with you,” he replied.

Climb the Tower.

“It's too dangerous!” you disagreed with the man immediately. “I've never left this floor in my entire life! How could I possibly survive outside?”

“I've met lots of powerful allies when I was gone. One of them is the Slayer Nominee from FUG.”

You gasped as the name of such an infamous organization sent shivers down your spine. Your knowledge about FUG was quite limited, but there was one thing you knew for sure – they weren't people to be messed with. Why would Hockney want to be associated with them?

“I know we had no contact for quite a while, but please,” he began speaking again. “I want to climb the Tower with you. Isn't spending your whole life here boring? Wasteful, I could even say. There's a whole another world outside the Floor of Death, and I want us to appreciate it together.”

You gulped, still full of doubt. Maybe he was right, but leaving the 52nd floor seemed unimaginable.  What would happen if you died right after that? You've never heard much about the outside. The only thing people have ever said was that it's horribly dangerous.

There's a whole another world outside the Floor of Death.

But you couldn't find any reason to stay here either. The Floor of Death became your comfort zone, more than you'd like to admit it. How cowardly it would be to never leave it!

And then, before you even noticed, a short sentence fell out of your mouth. Maybe it wasn't done fully aware of everything, and maybe just the sound of it made you slightly nervous. You didn't regret it.

“I'll go with you.”

[cheesybadgers]

Endgame Spoilers Ahead

Ok, so I don’t normally write many posts on here, but I need to write all of this down, otherwise I think I’ll go mad. This rambling post is more for my own sanity and therapy tbh.

If you haven’t seen it yet and don’t want spoilers, you have been warned!

Firstly, I enjoyed the experience of the film overall and didn’t hate it or anything. It was the most tense, emotional rollercoaster of a film I think I’ve ever seen and I felt absolutely, completely EXHAUSTED by the time I came out the cinema. I went to a gig a couple of hours later and honestly could have just fallen asleep before the band even came on stage. But I also think that experience will be diminished with multiple viewings, for me anyway. A lot of that experience came from not knowing what was coming and that’s such a fun element to it (again, for me personally).

Secondly, there were parts I really liked, there were some bits I was a bit meh about but let slide and tbh, the last 10 minutes or so didn’t massively upset me whilst I was sat in the cinema. It was only once I was out of there and started to think about it all a bit more that I became increasingly upset and a bit angry.

I was kinda surprised Sam got the shield, but with a bit more explanation I would have been happy with that. Personally, I’m choosing to believe that Steve offered the shield to Bucky first, but he said no, or Bucky just straight up told Steve to offer it to Sam because he didn’t want it. I can completely accept him saying no to it, because he never wanted to fight the world in the way Steve did. Bucky never had a choice in it the way Steve did (plus Sam voluntarily signed up for the military as well...the only bit I struggle with is the fact that Sam isn’t a super soldier in the way Steve and Bucky are, but that conversation is for another day and will hopefully be explored more in the Falcon and Winter Soldier series). He was forced to sign up to fight in WWII, he was forced to be an assassin, he was forced to fight for his own survival in Civil War, because everyone was trying to kill him, he felt obligated to fight in Infinity War/Endgame, because it was the right thing to do and he’s always been fiercely loyal to Steve. Plus he’s blatantly still going to be carrying guilt and trauma for everything he did as The Winter Soldier, to the point where I imagine he wouldn’t even feel worthy of taking up the Captain America mantle. But erm, it would have been nice to, I don’t know, actually see him and Steve have a conversation that explores some of this and consists of more than a couple of lines of dialogue and a brief hug.

Did the writers think the sexual chemistry between them was so strong that if they are even shown on screen together conversing as two long standing best friends would, that they would spontaneously start having sex all over the place??? I just don’t get it!! I’m not even talking about all of this from a shipping point of view, as I and most people never actually genuinely expected them to make Steve and Bucky a couple. But after everything that has happened in the three Cap films, after Steve put his life on the line, became a fugative of the government, broke up the Avengers and went on the run, DROPPED HIS SHIELD SEVERAL TIMES and almost killed Tony all to protect Bucky, they don’t even have the decency to give us satisfying closure on one of the most important and popular friendships in the entire MCU. I just....urgh...I could cry. Well, I have cried tbh. I’ve cried quite a lot, because it’s such a disservice to everyone involved.

I think the first inkling that this wasn’t going to be what I was expecting was the group therapy scene. I was surprised and gotta say disappointed that whilst everyone else in the group was talking about how hard it was to lose someone important to them in the snap, Steve just moped about Peggy. I couldn’t believe it!! The trailers seemed to hint that this was Steve not being able to move on from losing so many people important to him in the snap (not just Bucky and Sam), not because he never got to go on a date several decades ago. Don’t get me wrong, I love Peggy. Honestly, I do. She’s bad ass and a great character and her and Steve would have been great together, but I thought the poignancy of the lost love story was precisely that; a lost love. It was painful and sad, but that was the entire point. He had previously shown signs of moving on and we all know Peggy did move on. I was mildly irritated she had a photo of pre-serum Steve on her desk in the 70′s mind you, unless that was wibbly wobbly MCU timey wimey and her husband was actually Steve in that universe, who knows? I won’t even try get my head around the time travel rules in this post tbh, I’ll leave that for someone else to unpick. I don’t know, it all just felt too over-indulgent on the Steve/Peggy front and like I was being hit over the head with it all the time, when frankly, there were much more pressing issues to deal with.

Of course Steve deserved happiness and being able to put himself first for a change, of course he did. But I just wish they hadn’t done it like this at the expense of years of character development and friendships we’ve repeatedly been told and shown are hugely important to Steve. Part of me wonders why Peggy couldn’t have come to the future (after they’d fixed the stones, HYDRA and Bucky obviously) though? Steve could still have stepped away from being Cap and lived a domestic life with Peggy if he wanted to. She would have thrived in the 21st century and could have hung out with all of the other bad ass women at Avengers HQ (newly re-built of course). It’s not like Steve didn’t adapt to modern life (we use one example of that as a reaction gif all the god damn time :p). So I think it was more the execution of it all that pissed me off really. It had so much potential to be better than this.

So now I’m mostly just looking forward to Falcon and Winter Soldier. Seriously, I’m more excited about that than anything else related to the MCU at the moment. Both Sam and Bucky deserve way more screen time and character development. Imagine an entire episode, let alone a series, where Bucky is allowed dialogue that consists of more than the odd sentence or two? JUST IMAGINE. I’m so here for it. They might even let him be happy, WHO KNOWS?! 

[minoukatze]

A Proposal

Oh look! It’s some self-indulgent Vermintide fluff. 

“Come,” Victor took her trembling hand and squeezed it. “Let us get back to the inn. I have not eaten, and I’m guessing you haven’t either. It has been a very long day. Let us celebrate its end.”

Walburga allowed herself to be led from the grotesque scene, relief washing over her. While she felt as if a massive weight were lifted from her shoulders, seeing her lifelong tormentors screaming in agony, their flesh bubbling and blackening atop a mountain of flaming refuse only left Walburga feeling nauseated. Considering what they had unleashed upon the town, there was no question that their fate was well-deserved, but Walburga took no pleasure in their torture. Gilbert and Gretchen burned, but Walburga’s home, livelihood, her every possession…these things were still gone.

The reality of the situation had not quite settled upon her yet. Walburga allowed herself to be distracted by her duties, which were numerous enough to keep her busy the entire day. When everyone was summoned to the edge of town, she could no longer ignore the devastation wrought. Senden demanded blood for its wounds, and every able-bodied citizen was required to bear witness. Walburga certainly couldn’t begrudge them, considering how many had lost kin and home in the onslaught. Walburga would have thought that Victor would have taken particular glee in condemning the Falkenraths, but he seemed just as weary and disgusted as she had been.

The town was empty as Victor led her though, past the remains of the erstwhile burgher’s manor, past the chapterhouse, to the market… Walburga felt the weight of the fug of smoke permeating the air. She refused to incline her head to the right, for if she did not, she could pretend that her bakery still stood. Perhaps Victor sensed her distress, or simply assumed it. He squeezed her hand gently and quickened his pace, and Walburga was grateful for the gesture.

Walburga furtively sneaked a glance at her companion. Victor strode purposefully, chin raised and determined, as if the Chaos gods themselves would part to make way for him. Walburga wondered what it was like to have that kind of confidence and self-assurance, and why on earth he would bother with her at all. Walburga looked up again and he caught her peeking. She averted her eyes quickly.

Walburga wanted to scrutinize him, study every angle and furrow of his striking face, but somehow feared that regarding him for too long would frighten him away. She supposed that after this morning it shouldn’t have been so much of an imposition, but she still felt rather bashful in Victor’s presence. Her world was in total flux, and she was not comfortable placing this man as her anchor, but she could not help but do so. Walburga did not like being in this position. She had always prided herself upon being the one others relied on, the quick patch up, the ready shoulder to cry upon, and, from time to time, the shelter from the cold. She refused to turn to Oswald in her time of need, as the de-facto burgher for the moment, he was swamped with keeping the town held together. Beyond that, he had his own family to see to. Walburga knew that he would look after his mother cheerfully and without question, but she would not be yet another burden upon him. Likewise, she would not turn to any of the others in town, as they had troubles of their own. For the second time, however, Victor showed up just as her strength was about to fail, and she followed him without question. There was something about his demeanor which compelled obedience, and Walburga didn’t have it in her at the moment to protest. If (when) he departed, she would manage with difficulty, but for now, it was easy to follow when he took the lead.

They reached the inn, and Victor asked if she wished to dine with the rest of the townspeople taking advantage of Klaus’ generosity. Normally Walburga would have been happy to chat with them, but after a long day of treating patient after patient, comforting the grieving, and watching the doom of her lifelong tormentors; she didn’t have it in her. She felt like a razor-thin dam holding back an ocean.

“No,” Walburga replied quietly.

Victor nodded. “Would you like me to accompany you?”

“Yes.”

Walburga thought she saw relief briefly wash over his features. They entered, and Victor approached Klaus, requesting that food and drink be sent to her chamber. Her chamber. Walburga hadn’t realized that Victor had reserved the room for her. Of course, he stays at the chapter house, doesn’t he? She knew she should feel guilty for this privilege, that she would be afforded privacy and comfort while half the town languished in the Town Hall, but, again, she was too exhausted to care.

Wulf Andresen spotted Walburga as she entered and rose from his seat, most likely to ask about the graze upon his ankle. Victor shot him a glare, and the man sat right back down again. Walburga stifled a giggle. She wanted to thank Victor, but was unsure how, considering the whole exchange was a matter of seconds. So instead she followed him back to the chamber, where she found her crusty, disgusting overdress gone and three tidy linen underdresses and three sturdy woolen overdresses awaiting her.

“How…” Walburga examined them in wonder. “How…”

“The tailor escaped damage,” Victor explained. “I attempted to purchase these, but he refused any recompense once he found out who would benefit from them. If they do not fit properly, we will purchase others when materials are available.”

Walburga could not speak for the lump rising in her throat. The dresses were lovely things, plain but charming and utilitarian. She’d been meaning to save up for a new overdress for some time, but just hadn’t gotten around to it. There had always been a more important expense. But here they were, not one but three, clean, free from tears and stains, ready for wear. She bit her lip to keep the tears at bay.

A knock at the door called her back, and she opened it to receive a tray of stew, bread and cheese for two from Klaus, just like the previous evening, though Victor produced a bottle of Touch of Morr wine from the desk. Walburga thanked him and set the tray down upon the table. They sat in an awkward quiet, nothing but the sound of their chewing disturbing the silence, Victor pouring the wine into two earthenware cups. Walburga was unused to such fine spirits, usually treating herself to a mug of ale at the end of the day were there any left over from her meat pies. The tang of the wine was sharp and sour, but not unpleasant. She wondered if Victor often indulged in such luxury. Looking at his dagged velvet sleeves, his carved pipe, the gold signet ring gleaming upon his bony finger, Walburga decided that he must have. He was clearly accustomed to better things, a life wildly and richly lived. She suddenly felt very shabby in his presence, still wearing her underdress (now stained after the day’s obligations), her thick and tangled waves tied haphazardly back and out of her face, even the way she scarfed down her meal. Tears inexplicably stinging her eyes, Walburga looked away, forcing herself to slow and sipping a bit more of the wine. The circumstances were making her oversensitive, she decided.

“How fares the townspeople?” Victor asked suddenly, and Walburga nearly jumped.

“Hanging in, mostly,” Walburga managed. “Don’t know if you remember Mr. Fleischer, but he passed this afternoon. Amazed he lasted the night with those injuries, but still…” She trailed off, not knowing where she was going. “But…uh, most seem to be improving rapidly, thank Shallya. Had Karin send a message through the scribe to Carroburg to the Temple requesting aid, so hopefully we’ll get some reinforcements.”

Victor nodded, pouring himself a bit more of the vintage. “Wise decision. The sooner the town’s residents are functional, the better.”

Walburga watched Victor as he slurped his soup. Difficult to believe that just that morning they had been writhing naked together in the morning sunlight. Why was this so stilted?  One would think they’d be a bit more comfortable. Suddenly, the realization hit Walburga with the force of a gale.

Because he would be leaving soon.

Probably already had his mind on the next mission, already miles away from here. Just passing through. It suddenly became hard to breathe. With everything going on, this should have been the least of Walburga’s woes, but…

“I…” Walburga downed her cup in one gulp, trying to control the tremor in her voice. “I suppose you and your friends will be moving on soon.”

“I cannot speak for my companions,” Victor replied. “But it seems I am here to stay. I will be remaining to take over Captain Weber’s position in the Senden chapter house.”

“Truly?” The hand that held the cup shook.

“Indeed,” Victor continued. “Johann had asked me a little while back if I would succeed him. I made the decision during the battle. If I survived, I would ensure that this town would never be left so vulnerable ever again.”

It was the crack that set the dam, which had valiantly held the entire day, finally to collapse. Walburga burst into great heaving sobs; mortified, but unable to stop. Victor looked rather alarmed and frankly hurt by this reaction, disappointment flickering over his features briefly before he cleared his throat and composed himself.

“I did not realize that the prospect of my remaining would upset you so much,” Victor sniffed, pushing back from his chair and rising when Walburga leapt up to block his exit.

She violently shook her head, still unable to speak. She tugged at Victor’s arm to keep him from leaving, and he stared at her, dumbfounded, as she tried to summon words but could only produce gulps and croaks. She found herself beginning to laugh as well at the absurdity of it all, adding a snort to the bizarre repertoire of noises she was producing. Walburga grabbed a napkin and wiped her face vigorously until she was able a regain a bit of composure.

“I-I’m… I’m so sorry. Not upset, not at all…just relieved.” She finally managed, chuckling wetly between gasps. “I think…I am so accustomed to bad news that I wasn’t prepared for good news.”

“So, you believe this is good news?” Victor raised his eyebrow, faintly amused.

“I had assumed that you would be shaking the dust from this backwater town the moment you got the chance.” Walburga began to regain control of her breath. “You always seemed destined for greater things than Senden.”

“That was not an answer to my question.”

Walburga stared at her hands, which were fiddling with the thin fabric of her cambric gown. She began to worry a little fray in the fabric, ripping the threads, splitting a minor tear into a sizeable hole. She heaved a sigh.

“It is a wondrous thing,” Walburga murmured, still scrutinizing the now mauled dress. “I…I could not believe it was a possibility. We need someone to keep the town safe…”

Walburga trailed off, continuing to fidget. She heard Victor set down his hat but did not look up until he raised her chin with his finger. He looked very different without the authority of his headgear. His face was relaxed, and there was a softness to his expression she had never seen before.

“And what about you?” he asked, his eye searching, but for once not piercing. “Do you need me here?”

He needs to hear it. Walburga felt her lips curve into a smile. Here was a man who has stared down daemons, commanded troops, rescued the town…and he craved her approval. She caressed his cheek and the look in his eye went slightly liquid.

“It seems I do.”

Walburga had been isolated for a good portion of her life ever since she’d had Oswald. Not many fellows in Senden were keen to take a girl with a young child to wife, her only options the elderly and the desperate. She’d had one promising sweetheart, Hans Hanson, the butcher; who promised her the sun and the moon for one night together. Her parents made her demand a vase, and Hans had promised it to her when he had traveled to Altdorf for supplies. He returned with a red, sheepish face and a young, frisky wife. Walburga didn’t blame him and, honestly, had been rather relieved in the end. Hans always stank of onions and never washed his hands. She could never abide by that. It wasn’t until she was thirty-four, after her parents had passed (Morr rest their souls), that she finally found the liberty to indulge in a bit of amusement. Her first (and habitual) lover was a shifty but charming spice merchant who claimed Tilean origin. A fraud, truly, but the touch-starved Walburga hadn’t cared. His hair glistened with lampblack and his accent infrequent but, by Shallya, his hands had been clever and his mouth deft. He never tarried long, and Walburga was grateful for it. A little of “Arturo” went a long way. A handful of others followed over the years, usually the odd merchant or traveling performer, people whom she knew would not stay and, better, would not tell. She’d had enough scandal for one lifetime.

Thus, Walburga was not terribly experienced in the matters of love, but she had been surprised to find that Victor was even less so. She had assumed that someone as worldly as him would have had plenty of opportunity, and that the sweet clumsiness of their first time together was borne of exhaustion and urgency. However…Victor was all passion and desperation, but no skill. He mashed his lips against hers, scrabbling at her shoulders, her back, shaking and whimpering. Walburga found that she was enthralled by it. There was something pure about his unskilled and open longing, and she returned his ungainly embrace with equal fervor. She’d seen how deft and graceful he could be. It was just a matter of practice.

“Wait.” Walburga pulled back slightly, her hands upon his shoulders.

She watched the rise and fall of his breast, the flare of his nostrils, the desperation in his face. It was what had enthralled and shocked her earlier that morning, when she lay before him, the way he looked upon her as if she were something precious. She cupped his thin cheeks in her hands.

“Stay still,” she ordered gently, and pressed her lips to his.

Walburga kissed him softly and he obeyed, staying still. She savored his quiet gasps, the tremble in his stubbly jaw. She parted her lips just a little, and Victor, overeager, opened his mouth wide. Walburga drew back once more, placing her thumb upon his chin and gently shutting his mouth.

“Patience, love,” she chastised, smiling.

Victor took a deep breath, a flush rising to his cheeks.

“I am masterful in many arenas,” Victor grumbled, casting his eye to the ground. “I suppose I must admit that I had never seen fit to excel in this one.”

“No shame in that, love,” Walburga replied, lifting his chin. “I’ve no doubt you’re a quick study…”

Victor looked so crestfallen that Walburga decided to give him a little incentive. She slowly lifted her gown over her head, hoping that his inclination would not have turned to regret over the course of the day.

“Does this help?”

A strange grunt rumbled in the back of Victor’s throat. “Most definitely.”

Walburga drew close, again taking his face in her hands and kissing him softly. He responded in kind, this time, controlling his reaction this time and tentatively exploring her mouth with his tongue. The rest of his body was stiff and clenched, as if he were staving off whatever reflex would take over. Walburga pressed herself against him but quickly withdrew, his many belts and bits of armor digging into her flesh.

Victor smiled, unhooking his shoulder guard. “Shall I even the playing field?”

Walburga nodded, grinning. “It’s only fair.”

He shed his many, many layers of leather and steel until he was down to his linens. “All right then.”

“That’s not an even playing field,” Walburga smirked.

“It is for me,” Victor countered, toying with a lock of her hair. “I lack a sumptuous mane with which to obscure myself.”

“If you insist,” Walburga replied, drawing him toward the bed. “You may find those a bit confining, though…”

“Ah…” Victor seemed pleasantly surprised by how things were progressing, and it seemed to give him the wherewithal to doff his remaining apparel. “I defer to your superior judgment.”

 ***

  Months passed, and bakery was finished at last. Their time in the quiet, back chamber in the Inn came to a close. It was bittersweet. Walburga had grown comfortable in that dim little corner of Senden. It was a refuge from the outside world, a sanctuary where she could cast off her stoic façade and Victor could shed his authority and bravado like a weighty coat. They ate and chatted and confided and made love over and over, and when they would don their veneers of confidence and calm every morning, they did so smiling and ready to face the day. The room was cozy and warm and felt like theirs and theirs alone. Having that oasis from the ravages around her kept her sane and functional. Walburga had known from the start that the arrangement was temporary, and her new bakery was everything she had ever dreamed of since she was young, but she had become attached to the room nonetheless.

It was with great relief, then, that Victor had wished to continue their arrangement after moving into her new home.

“I fit,” he observed with surprise that first evening, regarding his feet at the bottom of the bed, plenty of room to spare for his lanky form.

“Indeed you do, very well.” Walburga grinned, and he chuckled in response.

“You had this made for me, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Perhaps I pitied your poor ankles, resting on the frame of the other bed,” Walburga replied. “Perhaps I like the extra space.”

“Either way, it is appreciated.” Victor rolled over to pin Walburga underneath him. “Allow me to demonstrate my gratitude.”

During their time together, Victor’s skills had improved vastly from their first sweet but fumbling encounter, as he had proved to be every bit the quick study she expected he would be. His hands were ten times as deft as Arturo’s had ever been, and his kisses passionate. If Victor tended to lose control in the throes, Walburga certainly didn’t mind, on the contrary. She’d never felt so desired and certainly never expected it in this late stage, when she had considered that aspect of her life passed. She was happy, happy in a way Walburga never thought she could be. There was no cloud hanging over, no need to work around evil bureaucrats, no need to put on a brave face for customers, no need for any façade at all. Not “happy, but” or “happy, for,” simply happy.

Until…

Victor arrived one evening not long after Walburga had moved into the new bakery distracted and rather nervy.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, sitting him down in front of a steaming plate of shepherd’s pie.

“Nothing wrong, really.” Victor took a deep breath. “Quite the opposite. I have been summoned to Altdorf to deliver my report. I am pleased to show them in person how Senden has improved since the attack, and hopefully gain a bit more funding for our chapter house.”

“Oh.” Walburga pecked at her food. “Well, that is exciting.”

“It is indeed,” Victor replied, and the pair ate in silence for the duration.

Walburga knew that she would not see Victor for weeks, but she turned from him that night, his touch only increasing the despair taking hold of her. She chastised herself but could not shake it. Victor had seemed in a similar mood as well, and for the first night since they became involved they retired without their nightly exertions, laying with ample space between the other. Walburga barely slept at all, watching the streetlamp flicker from her window and feeling as if she’d been hollowed out.

She awoke him the next morning with a piping hot buttered slice of olive and rosemary loaf, fermented herring, and pickled radishes as an apology for the awkwardness of the previous night. Victor squeezed her hand as he ate with vigor, then washed down the meal with a sharp, steaming cup of tea. They could hear a steady tap of soft rain on the cobblestones outside. Victor dressed quickly and made his way to the front door, glaring balefully at the gloomy weather outside.

“How…how long will you be gone?” Every word Walburga managed seemed to cost her.

“About three weeks,” Victor replied, buttoning his coat and fastening his shoulder guard. “It is the transit that drains the most time.”

“I wish you safe travels,” Walburga said, handing him his hat as he stood in the threshold. “Sienna’s accompanying you, is she not?”

Victor made an annoyed sort of noise. “She is. Has a mission from Lohner, apparently. The journey will feel thrice as long, undoubtedly.”

“I’m glad you will have backup,” Walburga replied, finally able to crack a smile.

“I suppose it’s for the best. Walburga…” Victor paused, stroking her cheek, seemingly searching for words.

They stared at each other for a moment, and Victor kissed her then, sudden and messy, the kind of kiss he would have given her in their first days together. He drew back, donned his hat, and charged off down the road without another word. Walburga watched his receding form as he walked, leaving nary a backward glance behind him.

Walburga snapped out of her stupor when the clock tolled six bells. Moping was not going to provide sweet rolls for the morning rush. It was time to get to work.

 ***

 “You’re uncharacteristically quiet this morning, Saltzpyre,” Sienna observed about an hour into their journey.

“Mentally organizing my notes,” Victor replied, staring out at the passing trees.

“Hmm…” Sienna replied, tapping the iron pendant in her hands. “From my vantage point, it looks to me that you’re pining.”

“You assume much, Witch,” Victor replied distantly. He knew that she was spoiling for an argument, but he didn’t have it in him to oblige, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of being right.

“Assume? You pride yourself on your observation skills, but I am no slouch myself.” Sienna preened. “One, you have said nothing about my attire, which would normally earn me quite the lecture. Two, I have been humming for the past forty-five minutes, and you haven’t made a peep about that. I don’t think you’ve even noticed at all. Three…”

Victor sighed, exasperated. “Are you sure you are not projecting, Fuegonasus? You make much of my supposed mooning, when you haven’t stopped fidgeting with that pendant since we set off. I know for a fact that it was a gift.” When Sienna colored, sputtering, this rare verbal victory made Victor temporarily forget his doldrums. “That tune you were humming was the song Adelbert often sings when he cleans the tables at the inn. “A Lady of Marienburg,” if I remember correctly. His mother was famous for warbling it through the market and often collected a crowd of admirers. Thirdly, I assume you were going to mention the massive love bite on your neck, which would give you yet another excuse to ponder your paramour. I honestly do not care how it was earned.” Grinning savagely, Victor went in for the kill. “You are so desperate to distract yourself from your own lovesickness that you attempt to goad me into admitting my own.”

“I..I…”

For the first time, Victor could see how Sienna could gain so much satisfaction from annoying him. It was rather enjoyable. Finally, Sienna folded her arms in a huff.

“Shows what you know,” she finally managed. “And you’re losing your edge. The hickey would have gotten me at least an hour’s rant. I’d had a much smaller one back in Carroburg and you wouldn’t stop going on about purity and self-respect.”

“I am in no mood to criticize the work of family,” Victor replied dryly. “We’ve always been an excitable breed, I suppose.”

Sienna’s mouth dropped open. “Was that…was that a joke? Who are you?”

Victor wearily sighed again, watching the scenery once more. He knew he didn’t want to discuss the matter weighing heavily upon him, and he certainly didn’t want to discuss it with Fuegonasus, but she was the only option and the notion had grown so much that it filled him completely and could no longer be contained.

“I…” Victor admitted finally. “I am considering…I believe I am going to buy a vase.”

He half-expected her to make a joke and demur, stating that she wasn’t interested, but instead she continued to goggle at him.

“About damn time!” She laughed finally. “There’s a good pottery district near the College. I’ll steer you in the right direction.”

“I am capable of finding a proper offering on my own!” Victor replied huffily.

“No, you’re not,” Sienna countered. “Leave it up to you and poor ‘Burga ends up with something covered in skulls and hammers.”

“Nothing wrong with a good, honest skull!” Victor replied. “It’s…”

“Oh Volans, stop proving me right!” Sienna insisted. “No, you’re coming with me, and no arguments. I won’t have you bungle this up.”

 ***

 “You’re looking rather spry this morning, Klaus!” Walburga smiled, handing over her sack of pastries for the Inn’s breakfast.

“That’s what a decent night’s sleep will do,” Klaus replied amiably. “Boring, but definitely has its benefits.”

“Ah, that explains it,” Walburga replied, passing him a meat pie. Lad never ate enough. “So you seem to be coping fairly well.”

Klaus shrugged, gratefully taking the pie. “Don’t have much of a choice, I s’pose. It’s strange. When she’s here, it’s like Sonnstill every day, with everything that goes along with it, bright and loud and fun and debauched and completely bloody exhausting. And the next day, you get to rest in a bit and you’re relieved.” Klaus paused and sighed. “For a moment. And then everything’s normal and dull again and you wish it were back. Does that make sense? I’m talking rubbish, aren’t I?”

He didn’t even need to mention her name.

“I understand completely,” Walburga assured him warmly. “Sounds like…”

“Mornin’, lads!” Susanna the miller’s wife plunked her basket down between them. “What’s the good word?”

“Looks like it’s going to be a chilly one,” Walburga replied, handing over a loaf of brown bread.

“So both of yours are off?” Susanna observed, placing coin into Walburga’s hand. “Guess that’s it then. Off to Altdorf he goes. Pretty nice while it lasted, right?”

Walburga bit the inside of her lip. “Mmm…”

“What’s that then?” Klaus asked mildly.

“Oh, just Hans Hansen all over again, isn’t it?” Susanna replied cheerfully. “Maybe you were too young for that one, Klaus. Our men always head to Altdorf and come back with a wife. Right, ‘Burga? Wulf Andresen too. Promises to moon and stars to Lorna, goes to the capital and comes back with a teenager. Always get their heads turned.” She slapped Walburga’s shoulder. “Am I right? That’s why I had to snag my Lars early, keep ‘im here! But you had your fun, right? Bit stringy and grim for my tastes, but I guess dames of our age can’t be picky. So, when are you…”

“Oh, Susanna,” Klaus broke in. “I just remembered. That chamber your husband wanted to reserve will available on the fourteenth, and I’ll be able to get the flowers and wine after all.”

Susanna tilted her head, perplexed. “Come again?”

“The room your husband wanted to reserve. I assumed you knew? Perhaps it was supposed to be an anniversary surprise.” Klaus shook his head, chuckling. “Damn. Should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“But our anniversary’s in…” Susanna’s face began to turn an interesting shade of purple.

“Right!” Susanna gathered her goods and backed away. “I’ll be seeing you later!”

“Was that necessary?” Walburga asked, smirking.

“Extremely,” Klaus nodded. “Miss ‘Burga, you know she’s just full of rubbish, right? The Captain adores you. Sienna says he’s never been so easy to deal with and gets this dreamy look in his eye when someone mentions you. I’ve seen it too!” Klaus shuddered. “Rather unnerving, truth be told.”

“Thanks, Klaus,” Walburga replied. “And you say that you think you’ve seen the last of Sienna, but I’m fairly certain she’ll be back sooner rather than later.”

“I won’t hold my breath.” Klaus shrugged again, shouldering the sack of pastries. “She’s not one to stick in one place, and you know me, Miss ‘Burga. Can’t pin this lone wolf down.”

“Indeed,” Walburga smiled. You keep telling yourself that, Klaus. “Well, tell Oswald to stop by later on the way back. I’ve made a treat for the kids.”

“Will do.” Klaus waved. “See you later.”

Walburga waited until he was out of sight and rushed back into the kitchen, grabbing her rolling pin and smacking it against the table. It was a foolish thing to do. She could have broken what was a perfectly good kitchen implement and dented her new table, but she’d needed to exercise her frustrations on something.

She hadn’t needed it said. When it was said, that made it real. Walburga knew, of course she did. She’d been so stupid, letting her guard down the way she had. She should have known that it was too good to be true, an important man like him showing interest in a washed-up old trout like her. She should have considered their time together just a bit of fun, the way Klaus did with Sienna. Victor had come to her with fumbling hands and sloppy kisses, and left with a light and deft touch that would make Arturo seem a heavy-handed amateur. She’d been excellent practice.

When would he return? And with whom? Walburga was accustomed to pasting on a smile and masking pain, but she feared that seeing Victor parade around some lovely young thing could be too much for her. Stop it, Walburga ordered herself. She knew she was being petulant and selfish. She reminded herself of everything Victor had done for her. The room at the Inn, her stipend for her bakery, her new wardrobe, and so many little things…he had been exceedingly generous and kind. Victor owed her nothing. Even so, Walburga stood in her kitchen, fists clenched, willing herself to keep her composure.

“Miss ‘Burga!” Karin called as she ambled in, her arms full of apples. “Tarts for today?”

Walburga straightened up and wiped her eyes quickly, grateful for the distraction. “Yes indeed, Karin! Let’s get the cinnamon and nutmeg. The market is going to smell glorious.”

 ***

The shadows of the Great Temple grew long as Victor exited, greatly relieved to be finished. It had taken all of his self-control to keep from ranting about how it had been the Skaven influence which had nearly destroyed Senden, but he kept the account of the attack brief and emphasized the bravery of the Senden Order, and how they could serve as a model for other chapter houses throughout the Empire. The report was well-received, more or less, and Victor was able to leave feeling as if he’d nudged them that much closer to being the well-oiled Skaven-annihilating force the Empire so desperately needed. He strode from the Temple feeling considerably lighter than when he had entered it, with only one more task before he could journey home.

A familiar silhouette leaned against the wall of a Heldenhammer Platz armory. Upon seeing him, Sienna leapt up and scampered over, reminding Victor more of a candy-addled child than a Maven of the Flame.

“It’s done,” she said, fairly bouncing on her heels. “I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it before you have! It’s gorgeous, she’s going to love it!”

Victor smiled faintly. “For someone who finds marriage repugnant, you’re showing an incredible amount of enthusiasm.”

“I find marriage repugnant for me,” Sienna explained, hustling Victor along. “I otherwise find the spectacle and the rituals leading up to it fascinating, and I have a certain appreciation for high-end stoneware. Also, the concept of your wedding is so bizarre that I cannot look away. Come on! You need to see it!”

Amused, Victor followed as Sienna charged forward.

“There are some excellent tailors, and I took the liberty of examining some of the gowns on display. I have a few suggestions and have made a list for Walburga to peruse. She’d look nice with lots of flowers, I think…”

“Aren’t you supposedly on mission?” Victor asked wryly.

“Pish.” Sienna waved the question away. “Minor carta issues. I can handle that in a matter of hours. This? This is important.”

They reached a small neighborhood in the shadow of the furnace that was the Bright College. Apprentice pyromancers parted to make way for the Maven, and Victor could feel her beaming even from a few feet ahead of him. A weathered-looking redhead noticed their approach and rose from her wheel to meet them.

“One moment,” the potter said, nodding respectfully to the pair (more so to Sienna rather than Victor).

The potter quickly washed her hands and retrieved the vase. Upon seeing it, the reality of the situation settled upon Victor, the exhilaration, the terror, the joy of it all. The vase was a masterwork, a subtle gradation from deep indigo to a pale lavender, echoing an evening sky. Subtle arcs of gold and silver rimmed the mouth and spangled throughout, and, at the center of the piece, a silver dove entwined with a golden comet.

“It’s perfect, isn’t it?” Sienna enthused, all but clapping her hands in glee.

Victor nodded, refusing to allow himself to become overwhelmed. “I believe it will do.”

He handed over a sizeable sack of coin and stowed the vase in a large leather sack, saddened to obscure the piece and fully planning to admire it as soon as he was seated in the carriage.

“Well.” Victor straightened up. “If I want to catch the afternoon coach to Carroburg, I’d best be off.”

“Can’t wait another second, can you?” Sienna grinned.

Victor rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “Truth be told, I just want the whole matter settled.”

“I can understand that,” Sienna replied warmly. “Long road ahead. I may be passing through Senden en route to Marienburg before long. Lohner hints there may be a job there.”

Several disturbing things occurred to Victor at once. The first was that he realized that he would miss Sienna’s company, and that he enjoyed it to begin with. Even when she was obnoxious and scandalous. Sometimes especially because of it. The second was that, not only did he consider the bright wizard a friend, that she was probably his closest friend. The third was that Sienna’s happiness was extremely important to him, and that he had never seen her as contented as when she was with Adelbert. All of these revelations threatened to make Victor very grumpy, and he refused to ponder them further.

“Well, I know that Walburga and the innkeeper would be grateful,” Victor replied evenly. “Be sure to do so. Farewell, Fuegonasus. Try not to end up in prison.”

“I’ll do my best,” Sienna laughed. “And Victor, don’t worry. Walburga would be mad to turn you down. Granted, she’s mad for being interested in the first place, but still. Good luck and swift journey.”

 ***

 “So,” Klaus began, leaning on Walburga’s stall. “How long has it been?”

Two weeks, five days, and six hours, but who’s counting? Walburga rolled her eyes. “About three weeks, I s’pose.”

“Well,” Klaus continued with a roguish grin. “I happened to notice a certain trap from Carroburg was arriving just as I started my walk here.”

Walburga handed Klaus his usual lunchtime repast of a pork and potato pasty. “Did you now?”

“I did.” Klaus nodded. “Might have a certain Captain on board not so patiently waiting for his luggage.”

Walburga’s stomach squirmed, and she forced herself to keep her breath steady. “I shouldn’t leave the bakery during the lunch rush…”

“Bloody hell, Miss ‘Burga! Karin can manage for a few minutes!” Klaus tugged at her sleeve. “Come on, he’ll be thrilled you came to see him.”

Walburga dithered for a moment, then untied her apron. “Oh, very well. Lead the way.”

They made their way through the town as it bustled in the wintry noonday sun. Klaus strode cheerfully before her, and as they approached the bottom of the hill Walburga could see the carriage waiting not far from the inn. Walburga’s heart leapt into her throat. Victor was lecturing the driver, who was struggling with his trunk. She quickened her steps, opening her mouth to call out a greeting, when the carriage door opened. A pretty young woman peeked out, then began to descend. The girl stumbled, and Victor sprang away from his argument to catch her, steadying her arm and guiding her to her feet. Walburga halted immediately, suddenly feeling the chill in the air.

“Wait, that’s probably not what it looks like,” Klaus assured her. “C’mon, Miss ‘Burga…”

Walburga turned without another word and scampered back to the bakery as fast as her feet would carry her, ignoring Klaus’ protests. She could see a line forming at the bakery, and a very harried Karin hustling to accommodate everyone. Good. Busy meant she didn’t have to think. As long as she was busy, she wouldn’t fall apart.

 ***

 The journey had stretched for ages. The coach had been full for the trip to Carroburg, which irked Victor. He’d wanted to examine his vase a bit and had to content himself with reaching into the leather sack from time to time and running his fingers over its smooth surface, following the subtle ridges and eddies. It wasn’t so much that he feared his traveling companions would covet the expensive item (they looked as if they would piss themselves if he so much as said a word to them), more that he preferred to look upon it alone and ponder its significance.

He had barely been able to sleep. Nerves had never been an issue in previous excursions. He tossed and turned, wondering how Walburga was faring, if she had any inkling of what awaited her when he returned. What if the time apart convinced her that she preferred him gone? That she slept better without his snoring? He’d become accustomed to her warmth beside him. Victor chastised himself. He truly was growing soft.

As soon as the sky lightened Victor was off, having messily devoured a hard roll and downed a flagon of water. After the squashed two-day trip to Carroburg, Victor was looking well forward to having a mail coach to himself. He found the carriage waiting on the outskirts of the city, a pitiful-looking affair with ill-padded seats and sacks of mail piled atop the roof. Not the most luxurious of accommodations but guaranteed to deliver Victor to Senden before the day’s end. A scruffy-looking young man groomed the horses and readied them for the trip.

“Is there any chance we can depart straightaway?” Victor asked, leveling the driver with a withering glare.

The look had then intended effect. “Y-yes, Sir!”

While the driver bustled about, loading Victor’s trunk, Victor settled himself inside with the leather pack on his lap, tipping his hat over his eyes, finally drowsy. The coach sprang to life, and Victor smiled. Finally.

“Wait, wait!”

The coach halted, to Victor’s extreme annoyance. There were scuffling noises outside, and a harried-looking young woman burst into the coach. She started when she saw Victor, then burst into a fit of nervous giggles.

“And here I was worried traveling on my own,” the girl rambled. “Don’ think no one’ll mess with us with you in the coach!”

“Quite,” Victor replied snidely, tipping the hat over his eyes once more.

Her name was Anneke. Victor found this out, and basically every other detail of her life, and the driver’s as well; as she and the lad (Fritz, as it turned out) gabbed incessantly through the window in the coach. The chatter prevented Victor from napping, but he found that it at least sped the journey along. By the time they reached Senden, Fritz and Anneke were practically engaged. It was lucky for Fritz that Anneke was headed to Bruena, and would be accompanying him for the duration. As the carriage rolled to a stop, Victor took a deep breath and burst out of it the moment the wheels creaked to a halt.

“Come now!” Victor exhorted the driver, clutching the vase to his chest. “I have great need of haste!”

“Right, Sir!” Fritz dragged himself away from his conversation and began to unhook the mail bags.

“My trunk, my trunk!” Victor scolded as Fritz fumbled. “Come now, boy!”

“Where’s the…” Anneke opened the carriage and attempted to exit, but her the heel of her shoe caught upon her skirt and she tripped. The girl would have been face-first in a mud puddle were it not for Victor’s reflexes. He caught her just in time, and she thanked him as she found her feet.

“Anneke!” Fritz leapt forward, mailbags forgotten and tumbling into the dirt as he rushed to the girl. “Are you all right?”

Oh, trunk be damned. As Fritz attended to Anneke, Victor charged toward the bakery. It would be the lunch rush, but Victor couldn’t wait another second. Two weeks, six days, and five hours. It had been agony. He passed Adelbert en route and nodded. The innkeeper tried to tell him something, but Victor was in too much of a hurry to listen.

Victor was intoxicated by the aroma of baking bread. He followed it to the lines of townsfolk queued up and saw Walburga and Karin barely keeping up with demand. He strode to her, the crowds of customers parting before him, and Walburga looked up in surprise. The color drained from her face, and her jaw clenched, as if she were steeling herself. Not exactly the reaction he’d been anticipating.

“Walburga.” Victor clutched the sack to him for strength as he approached. “I need to speak with you.”

“Not the best time,” she replied brusquely. “Can this not wait?”

Victor inhaled deeply, straightening up.

“No,” he insisted, glaring at the customers until they scattered. “It truly cannot. It has been three weeks. I need to speak with you.”

Walburga seemed to crumple. She nodded in a defeated sort of way.

“Very well,” she murmured, trudging into the kitchen.

Victor followed her warily, dumbfounded and stung. She’d been distant the night before he’d left, but up until that point they had seemed content. He’d had the impression things were serious. What had happened while he had gone? Had she rethought her situation? She’d had an extra-long bed constructed. Did she just have a predilection for unusually tall men? Victor’s hands started to shake, but he was in too far now. He had to know her answer, for good or for ill.

“You do not seem pleased to see me.” Victor began flatly.

“I am glad that you have returned safe and whole,” Walburga replied in a wobbling voice, staring determinedly out the window.

“And I am glad to see you, even if you don’t seem to share the sentiment.”

“Well,” Walburga replied. “What did you need to discuss?”

“Right.” Victor took a deep breath, clutching the leather sack under his arm. “I have been thinking about the future.”

Walburga nodded absently.

“The future,” she repeated in a distant sort of voice.

“And I do not think things should continue as they are. I have made a decision.”

Walburga turned her eyes to him finally, and Victor realized that she seemed utterly devastated. She twisted her fingers in her apron so tightly that he winced.

She swallowed heavily. “I just want to know. When did you make that decision? Was it in Altdorf, or before?”

“Before,” Victor replied, perplexed.

This was not going at all the way he had hoped. Walburga’s eyes widened, her hands bunched painfully in the fabric.

“Right.” Her voice cracked. “How long before?”

“Quite some time,” Victor admitted. “At Kruber’s wedding, truth be told. I…”

“That far back?” Her voice had taken a hysterical edge. “All this time, you were making plans…”

“Walburga,” Victor interrupted roughly. “I don’t understand. I would have expected you to be happy about this!”

“Happy?!?” Walburga shrieked. “Happy to see you abandon me? Toss me aside? Happy to see you parade around your fresh-faced young wife, give your children free sweets? Put on a brave face for the town yet again, I’m supposed to be happy about…”

“Walburga, what the hell are you talking about?” Victor demanded, flabbergasted. “What young wife? What children?”

“That’s what happens. It’s what always happens. They go away, and return with something better,” Walburga’s voice trembled. She regarded him again, those river-green eyes nearly overflowing. “I saw that girl you were escorting. I’m sure she’ll make you very happy.”

Victor let out a barking laugh. “You mean Anneke the apprentice glass-blower? She’s off to Bruena, and will most likely be hitched to Fritz by the end of the journey.”

“Wait, what?” Walburga tilted her fluffy head rather adorably. “Who’s Fritz?”

“The mail coach driver,” Victor explained quickly, placing the leather sack upon a flour-covered table and crossing the room to her. “Walburga, are you out of your bloody mind? Is this why you are acting so strangely?”

“I suppose I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Walburga replied, her shoulders finally relaxing. “I was happy with you. Too happy. Something had to happen, and when you went to Altdorf…” She sniffed and looked away, shrugging. “It’s a thing that happens here.”

Victor took her chin in his hand. “Sigmar’s teeth, ‘Burga, do you think me so inconstant?”

“I suppose I think you an important man who need not settle for a dowdy baker whose best years are long past.” Walburga gazed at him, dazed. “I was convinced you’d come to end things.”

“You are insane.” Victor stroked her cheek. “I wanted today to be the beginning of something. Of everything. If you would have me.”

Walburga stared up into his face, a smile wavering upon her lips, as if she were afraid to believe it. “Are you sure, Victor?”

“I do not make decisions lightly,” he replied. “You should know that by now.”

“Me? Honestly? Victor, you know I cannot give you children.”

“Why the hell would I want children?” Victor asked incredulously. “Every day I must begin my day in a chapter house filled to the brim with soft, mewling apprentices. I’ve no desire to end my day that way as well.”

Walburga finally fell into his arms, and Victor reveled in her warmth, her pillowy softness, the sweetness of her scent. He clutched her tightly to him, his long fingers winding in her tawny waves.

He reluctantly released her, gesturing to the leather sack. “You should see what’s in there.”

Walburga opened the bag, and slowly withdrew the vase. She said nothing for a very long time, raising the vessel to the light, admiring it from all angles, reverentially gliding her fingertips over the comet and dove etched into it.

“You really did have this made for me…” Walburga murmured.

“No,” Victor replied snidely. “I was going to hand it to the first lady I stumbled across in town. By the way, you haven’t given me an answer. If it’s a no, just hand it back and I’ll toss it to whomever’s lurking outside. Is that fishwife Langemeier out there? I wonder if she’d be interested.”

“Stop!” Walburga guffawed, setting down the vase and rushing over to him. “Yes, of course! By Shallya’s feathery bum, I am so sorry, Victor. I would not be surprised if you wanted to take it back, given my atrocious behavior.”

“You’re quite mad, it’s true.” Victor grinned, squeezing her to him. “But I will have no other. I…”

He was interrupted by an urgent rap at the door. “Miss Burga! Miss Burga!”

Victor released Walburga to answer. “Klaus, what is it?”

“I just wanted to catch you before…” Klaus noticed Victor lingering behind, and the large, expensive vase upon the table. “Oh, thank bloody Taal! So it’s finally happening?”

Walburga beamed. “Despite my ridiculousness, yes. I guess we have a wedding to plan.”

Klaus slumped in relief. “You gave me a worry, Miss Burga. Bloody hell.”

“Oh, since you’re here, Adelbert.” Victor reached into his coat and produced a letter. “I have been tasked as a messenger boy, it seems.”

Klaus’ face lit up as he took the missive. “I…um…I’d, uh better get to the scribe…”

Klaus scampered away, calling his thanks as he departed. Walburga leaned against Victor, eyes closed, looking to him much like a contented cat.

“There’s the next wedding,” Victor said confidently. “By Sigmar, I will be sure of it.”

“Let’s just get ourselves hitched first,” Walburga replied with a smile. “I assume you haven’t eaten yet? Come. Sit. Tell me of your journey.”

Victor peered outside. “Your customers seem to be returning.”

Walburga kissed his forehead, and Victor felt light as air. “They can wait a moment. Let’s catch up.”

[jainarepellista]

Tower of God S2ch310 Rough Translations

You brought a lot of suspendiships.

Looks like Zahard has a lot of money these days. // Bringing in so many of those suspendiships when this place will probably collapse in near future anyway.

Is this declaring a war?

Maschenny Zahard.

Yes.

The war is starting.

??F Hell Train - The Three Commands - 02

War..

And here I thought you’ve grown up already

But you still talk like delusional young people out there.

Hey, // Do you know why there hasn’t been another big war in the Tower ever since the ancient age of war?

Old people hate change.

It may seem very unstable to some // But we’ve been accustomed to this situation and are afraid that something is going to change.

It’s the same with me too.

As we get older, our bodies don’t get sick or fall ill. We get stronger // but before we know it, our spirit has become sick and we become apathetic to everything.

Even if one tries to make a little change, they just get rejected

We have been weathered by time.

It’s not the work of stagnant water like us to make change. // Change is already beginning down there, bit by bit.

That’s why // You should go home and get some sleep.

Stop fooling around.

Are you really sure it’s gone already?

…..?

Your anger?

Losing your beloved woman

Since you found out that the reason the woman you loved had to be killed was deeply related to Zahard // You willingly became a devil of FUG.

Your anger may have hardened and subsided // but I don’t understand how you could just throw it away to the wind.

As the years go by, the more you remember and dwell on it, the the feeling only gets stronger and more stuck in your heart.

That is anger.

………

And as long as that anger is alive-

War can break out any time.

Fire.

!!

The target has not taken any damage at all!! // No special shinsoo barrier identified!!

He blocked the suspendiship’s bombardment with just his body..!!

As expected, he’s a High Ranker..!!

Attacking just like that… // Seriously, Zahard princesses have such dirty personalities.

Princess!! What shall we do now!!

What else is there to do. // We just woke up an ancient monster.

There’s nothing left but to die with honor.

What?!

If you think you could just go over here for a bit // to pick a quarrel out of foolish curiosity

You picked the wrong guy. Princess.

Ha Jinsung Style Shinsoo Manipulation Technique

Crimson World (Drop of Water)

Aaack!!

Port-side of the suspendiship has been annihilated!!

The suspendiship’s shield is no longer working!!

As I thought…

Princess!!

He’s still active.

(That’s about half..)

Whole army evacuate!! // Get as far away from the target as possible right now!

…?

Raise the area around the target to Red 3!!

Starting absolute annihilation!!

!!

That’s.. From the army // The “gun salute” of war.

King Zahard’s Decisive Weapon No. 9 Exclusively used for High Rankers El Robina

They even took with them a Decisive weapon of the Royal family..

(This is..)

Zahard, you..

Really are serious?

Hell Train

….?

This is..?

Baam!!

!?

Y-Yuri-noona!?

You woke up-!! // I thought you weren’t going to wake up and die!!

Urgh!!

Ah!! I’m hurt!! My neck!! My neck!! // Y-you will snap it!!

I’m sorry!!

…!

Baam!!

Baam!! // You’re up!!

Everyone..!!

W-what happened? // We’re not in the HIdden Floor..

Shh-!! // That’s enough!!

(Don’t say anything more!!)

(Don’t. Say. It!)

(Shh!)

(Shh!)

Ah..

It was a rule of the Hidden Floor that it will be forgotten if we speak about it..

By.. the way..

Where are the others.. // Is everyone safe?

Well..

Somewhere in the Hell Train

Koon-ssi!?

Koon-ssi is..

Why.. is he..?!

What happened to him?!

We don’t know.. But it looks like somebody injured him..

His heart is not beating right now..

Huh!?

녀석은 지금 온 몸이 ‘얼어있는' 상태야.

Right now, his entire body is in the “frozen” state.

네…?

What…?

스스로 몸을 얼려서 모든 기능을 멈춘거지.

He froze his body himself to stop his metabolism. (alt. to stop it from functioning)

I don’t know the details, // but it looks like he was in near-death situation in the Hidden Floor.

Whether his ability was awakened or he did it himself, in that fraction of a second he froze his own body to extend the time. // I am using an item of mine as a life-support for now, but he will die in no time without it.

What happened while I was fighting?!

How did the battle go..!? Who did this to Koon-ssi!!

Baam.

?

Follow me.

I’ll let you know who made Koon like that.

You came.

!!

Beta-ssi!? How come you’re here!!

..Why do you always have to have a hard time waking up? Completed product. // You slept through an entire week.

A.. anyway, where have you been? And.. // Don’t you need to be inside the lighthouse in the train?

Well.. I’m not sure why I was able to come outside. // But there certainly is something strange with the train after exiting the Hidden Floor.

Strange..?

Yes. All of the rules like a Ranker can’t fight with a Regular, // and a person should possess a ticket in order to board the train are all gone now. // Right now, there is no law in this place.

..What!?

That aside, you- // You haven’t heard what happened to Koon in the Hidden Floor yet?

Ah.. yes!! // Does Beta-ssi know about it?!

Of course. // Although you guys didn’t seem to notice it,

In the Hidden Floor, I became one with the Koon’s lighthouse // Well.. I think that place completely regarded me as an item.

It irritated me.. // But because of that, I was able to watch everything as the lighthouse.

The Hidden Floor’s rules won’t allow me to speak about it though.

By the way, that Gator left alone as soon as he came out from the Hidden Floor.

‘I’m going to kill Yellow freckled turtle-,’ // that’s what he said.

Don’t you know who that turtle is?

……….!

Yellow.. // Freckled..?

But..!!

But.. How..!! // Rachel was nowhere present in the Hidden Floor..!!

I saved what I watched as a memory in the lighthouse. // Don’t know about the others, but I don’t think you will have memory erased from watching this since you used the key.

Watch it and decide for yourself.

Turtle!!

Blue turtle!!

Wake up!!

Open your eyes!!

Blue turtle!!

……….

Baam..

Where are you going!? Baam!!

I have to stop Rak-ssi.

What!?

I can’t let Rak-ssi meet Rachel like this.

What are you saying! // Don’t tell you you’re going to forgive Rachel this time again!!

No..

White-ssi and Yura-ssi are there. // Rak-ssi alone can’t handle it.

…………..

I will go to her by myself-

To make Rachel..

Pay for what she had done to Koon-ssi.

[bogwithanlforluck-blog]

I Unfriend You, Floyd

DISCLAIMER: The figurative and/or literal act of “unfriending” any person, group of people, ideological affiliation, etc. involves, at the least, some disappointment. At its worst, “unfriending” can cause a certain amount of trauma, or it can perhaps evoke past trauma. Since this essay is indeed about an “unfriending” experience that reaches the level of a kind of trauma, I am going to approach this from a remove, as if I were talking this out with a therapist. Please excuse, therefore, the potential psychobabble that may pervade the whole process….

    Imagine a typical therapist’s office. Sofas, books, knick-knacks. I am in one chair; the doctor in another.

   The doctor asks me, “So, I believe you said you were here to talk about someone who terrorized you, and who, to this day, still terrorizes you, if only periodically. Someone named Floyd. Do I have that right?”

     “Well, pretty much yes. But it’s not a someone, it’s a group of people. And the whole name is Pink Floyd.”

     “Ah, I see. Thanks for clarifying. Why ‘Pink’?”

     “Good question.” After this response, a thoughtful pause in the conversation occurs, after which the doctor continues:

     “Well, aside from the name itself, why do you think you became so terrified of this Pink Floyd?”

     “I have been thinking about that, doctor. And I believe it dates back to a church camping trip that my sister and I went on back when I was about 13.”

      “Are you, or were you, religious?”

      “No, not really. I am not sure how we ended up going on that trip. My sister and I were not campers, and we were not particularly involved in church. We went to a Methodist Church, but we had no idea what ‘Methodist’ really meant; I’m not sure many Methodists do, actually. I think the Methodist Church is one of those nice hybrid protestant churches that is not too preachy but politely tries to instill good moral values in its parishioners. But, that’s kind of beside the point.”

       “Okay, go on then. What happened on this trip?”

       “The trip was co-ed, and from what I remember, different sets of parents, not ours, volunteered to drive the kids across Tennessee over the border into west North Carolina, to a campground where we would pitch tents, stay overnight, go whitewater rafting the next day, then go home.”

       “Did you have fun?”

       “On the whole, no. My sister and I have good memories from it in some ways, because we were the absolute worst campers ever and made a mess of the whole outdoors experience. She and I shared a tent; we had to pitch it ourselves — I know, the nerve of that, right? — and that endeavor took more than a few tries. Overnight, we got zero sleep, because the camper next to us, a guy who had a tent to himself, snored louder than I do, and that means louder than a buzz saw or even an air raid. Imagine rhythmic sonic booms. Anyway, my sister — her name’s Laura, by the way — and I kept laughing at the hapless honker next to us, and then we decided just to stay up all night, so that we could be first at the showers and get the hot water.”

       “So far, it does not sound like a bad trip at all. You have some good memories from it.”

       “Oh, I do. That was all good. And the whitewater rafting wasn’t bad, except for the fact that I was the youngest on the trip and got put in the back of the raft with the guide, while Laura got to ride up front, where all the action was. She was seated next to two hyper-enthusiastic guys who kept trying to make the most of the rapids, so at the front end of the boat, there was a whole lot of ‘Whoa’-ing and ‘Far-out’-ing, while back in the back, I had the loud voice of the guide in my ear on one side of me, and on the other side, I had my ineffective oar. Plus, remember: I was not a river-type person, so I took offense to my sour-river-water-smelling life jacket and my muddy river-water shoes. I don’t want to sound like a prima-donna, but river life and camping are just not my thing.”

       “But so far, Floyd, or Pink Floyd — you had not met him yet.”

       “Oh, no, and Pink Floyd, it’s not a ‘him’; it’s a rock group.”

       “Oh, a rock group.” [Notice that I have chosen a doctor who has never heard of Pink Floyd. Artistic license!]

       “The Pink Floyd encounter came later, when we were on our way home. I am not sure how the rides home got put together, but after our muddy-water day on the river, we went home, once again in cars driven by parents. One of our fellow campers was a schoolmate of mine; his name was Jason. Thinking back, I daresay his name is quite apt in this situation, as the name ‘Jason’ in this day and age symbolizes the ultimate horror figure. ‘Jason’ is the name of the anti-hero in all the Friday the 13th movies.”

       “So Jason brought to mind the horror films?”

       “Not then — just now, looking back, I note that Jason’s name is rather ironic, in the context of things. So, anyway, I think we ended up riding home with Jason and his parents, because Jason was a schoolmate of mine, and for that reason — though he and I were not friends at school — we rode with his family. We had an outside-church connection.”

     “So, you rode all the way from western North Carolina to Nashville with this same family? You and your sister?”

     “Yes. And as we were guests of the drivers, Laura and I — maybe practicing our good Methodist manners — did not make any special requests on where to sit or anything like that. So, naturally, I sat in the middle of the back seat, between Jason and Laura, I think. Jason’s mother was riding in the front passenger seat, and she said a few polite words to us, but from there, things got eerily quiet.”

      “How so?”

     “Well, this, I think, is where the insidious workings of the Pink Floyd trauma began. Jason, for his part, was sullen. I don’t know why. Maybe he did not like muddy river water and stinky life jackets, either. He was not in our boat, so maybe he had to ride in the back of his. Whatever the case, he was in a pouty mood. He insisted that his parents play his favorite cassette tape, which just happened to consist of nothing but Pink Floyd music.”

     “Was Jason mean to you?”

     “No, not at all. He was just completely grim and therefore speechless. I don’t remember a single word he said on that ride home. Maybe he was so into his music that he did not want to talk over it. Laura and I, meanwhile, did not want to interrupt his — reverie, either, so we kept quiet.

       “And therefore, by the tacitly enforced quiet in the car, Pink Floyd came drifting through the atmosphere, enveloping us all in a Floyd-fug. Meanwhile, imagine where I am and the environment in which we were driving. We had reached that no-man’s land between east Tennessee and west North Carolina that is just a bendy-road with gargantuan trees all eaten alive by kudzu. The trees on either side of the narrow, two-lane road were very tall and branched over towards one another on either side, and in their kudzu-caped crisis, they seemed to be gesturing over to each other for help, growing ever taller to escape the body-snatcher enveloping them. And I, sitting in the middle of the back seat, was in my own no-man’s land, having to brace myself from swaying into Jason or Laura as we turned around the bends in the road.”

      “Hm. That does sound uncomfortable.”

      “You got it in a word, doctor. ‘Uncomfortable.’ Because amid this dreary landscape, along with the vacuum of speech, came the quite DIS-quieting sound of Pink Floyd. And the song I remember most clearly from this hellish, church-camping-trip ride home, was Pink Floyd’s ‘Comfortably Numb.’ Right. ‘Comfortably Numb’ my ass! Oh, pardon my swearing.”

      “That’s okay; you have to say what you need to say.”

      “Yes, well, thank you. My ass may have been literally numb, but it was not comfortable. And Pink Floyd was not helping. You see, that group— their songs — their songs sound like they’re coming from the grave. They have this super-mellow-tinged-with-despair sound that attacks you just like that kudzu was attacking the trees. Over and over, I was hearing this extended, ‘I—I——I have become…comfortably numb.’ The more I heard it, the more anxious I became. I was uncomfortably antsy. For miles and miles it seems, we rode with the kudzu and Pink Floyd, to the point where I felt like I might never make it out alive. Indeed, I felt like I might go right into the grave from which those songs emanated”

       “Maybe those songs were triggering an uncomfortable memory for you, and you started to panic.”

       “No, it was the reverse. Those songs were the beginning of an uncomfortable reality for me — that Pink Floyd exists, and that the group has FANS. I started to panic at that realization.”

        “Perhaps.”

        “For definite. And ever since then, I have never liked their music. A long time later, for about two years, I worked in a record store, and I tried to keep an open mind about all music while working there. I saw many Pink Floyd fans come and go. I stocked the band’s albums. I give the band credit for coming up with some of the most iconic album art in the history of rock. And I listened to some of their songs, again, but even with my attempts to keep an open mind, their music gives me the creeps, like creeping kudzu. Over time, I have grown more and more leery of Pink Floyd music. If I happen to hear the beginnings of some of their famous hits — and they had a couple of gimmicky beginnings to a few songs that are now instantly recognizable — I feel dread. Like the Grim Reaper is nearby and bad things are about to unfurl. I just think,” and here, I sit up straighter, “ — I believe it’s time to unfriend them. A kind of renunciation of their power.”

      “You can certainly do that; I like the idea. And I will be here for support, just in case some of the fear returns, in whatever measure.”

     And therefore, in theory, and in writing, I am officially unfriending Pink Floyd. Many apologies to Pink Floyd fans if I have caused offense. Recently, I saw a poll ranking the best Rock & Roll bands of all time, and Pink Floyd was ranked 4th. What wonderful news for fans. However, I will, in my best Methodist-mannered fashion, politely disagree with that ranking.