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hauntedelation · 3 years

Text

Let Us In

(Picture found on Pinterest, I don't own!)

Description: It was time for Sy to be shown how much he is appreciated in that house.

Pairing: Gender Neutral Reader (No race or body type mentioned) x Mike x Captain Syverson. (Walter is mentioned.)

A/N: Alright, so this was from another Discord chat with my friends. @hope-to-hell and @feralrunaway. The overall back story is from Hope's universe with Mike, Walter, Reader and Sy. Here's the link to her master list and all of her stories that feature this dynamic!

Feral gave these wonderful lines that are highlighted red. Thank you, friend 🥺

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: smut (18+), oral sex male receiving, reassurance, praise, loving ass play and feelings

Sorry for errors, enjoy guys!

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He arrived with his fingers playing on the rim of his cap, ready to take it off to let some air grace his heated scalp. The weighty thud of the garage door resonated secondly.

Walt was out that night, working a later shift at the station. He took the short time leave his best, a little note with a his best addressed to Sy. His intentions were to be provided when he came home. He parted an hour before with a kiss to each of your foreheads,

'Don't overwhelm him, yeah? Have fun, I'll be home when the sun comes up.'

You were peering at the bulk of Sy's body, how it would tense with each move he made. He bent down, unlacing his boots and slid them off. "Hey y'all," he greeted you and Mike, but that drawl was muffled, drained.

Mike was gnawing on his bottom lip, his eyes sparkling in the setting sun through the kitchen window. His fingers tapped anxiously on the countertop, with no particular rhythm planned.

When he caught the eye of the southern male, standing a few feet away, he gifted him a nod and an awfully hidden smile.

It was contagious, you followed after Mike to welcome Sy more personally. You caught how his hands smeared the grease on his jeans, the sweat trickle along his forehead.

He had been at the exterior of the house the entirety of the day.

That, and with the passing months he had worked to improve dozens of things for the house. Though, never did any of you ask. Sy always found something, taking those problems in his hands and wiring his thoughts to fixing them.

He was tenacious, not you, Michael, or even Walter could convince him to halt his favors. All the man would reply with was, 'It keeps me busy, I don't mind a bit.'

This was a few days ago, the particular idea came with a conversation between you and Michael:

You needed to show him your thanks.

"How’s the project coming big guy?" says Mike as his hand lays on his thick bicep. The man sighs, clicking his tongue in thought.

"Well I reckon..."

You and Michael bring him into the kitchen, listening to his musings about today and what his plans were for finishing that project. Sy is speaking softly, his body relaxing more and more under yours and Mike's hands sliding over his clothed skin.

"You need anything?" You let your palm glide up his chest. His blue eyes gaze down at you before they flicker to the sweating pitcher of tea on the counter.

He gulps down a glass before you catch Mike's silent message. His chest is heaving in that thrilling suspense, the quick wiggle to his brow a signal.

"Sy, can we do something for you?"

The man places his glass down on the countertop, wiping away stray droppings of the drink with his hand. His chin tilts toward you, and he was mulling over that query until Mike stepped in, voice modestly shaky,

"Yeah, you got a minute to spare?"

His nimble fingers trace the sleeve of Sy's shirt, along the stitching and the fabric stretching over his arm. The man catches this, blinking slow at the younger man. He was distracted, missing the way that your lips pulled up in a vampish manner.

Sy rubs at his beard and drifts his eyes between the two of you, oblivious, unaware,

"Sure, what do ya need?"

➽─────────────❥

The Captain had fallen asleep, he was damn sure if it. He was still out there in the garage, hunched over that table and drawing, planning and redrawing those notes for that task. He swears that he must have drifted off and was snoring like a hog out there.

He had to have, because he was dreaming up a vision he thought he would never experience with his eyes wide open.

His curious words, "What're you two planning here?" they wavered away the moment he was brought into the bedroom.

It was real, far more tangible than anything else that could come to mind. Two pairs of wandering hands, pulling him into that familiar room, two pairs of lips pressing onto his skin and his own.

He can feel both of your fingers on his worn-out body, the way that you two had your own mission. You had your intent to venture past his garments, seeking every inch of him.

Michael enjoyed dragging his fingertips along his scalp, down the nape of his damp neck. He took the older man's lips with his and languidly, worked his mouth open. He was chasing that sweet, sugary taste of the ice tea.

You moved from his neck, his collarbone, before gently dropping to the floor before him. Your hands unlatched the leather binding his hips and soon his jeans slid from his thighs, his underwear accompanying.

The first taste of him, the gift, the raw sensation of his stiffening length. All of the salt and the wood, all of those hours he clocked in outside.

The flavor of Sy coated your tongue, and how that roused something in the both of you. You could hear Mike swallow every moan falling from Sy's lips.

Right there in the middle of the bedroom, with the door to his back, he had nothing to hold onto. You unknowingly placed him in the position of using his will to keep himself standing. He really wasn't trying to lose.

Mike joined you on the floor, grinning up at the Captain and taking his erection into his hands. They met eyes, and he tapped the head of his cock against his swollen lips, running his tongue around the ridges before taking him all down.

Michael and his talented mouth, he almost sent the older man tumbling.

Almost did, you could feel his smirk through Sy's skin. Though your hands steadied him, at least for a moment or two. They lightly squeezed his thighs, hardly able to make a dent in the muscle. He was alright.

At least until your fingers worked around his legs from the front to the back. You had found the white tube under the bed and slickened your fingers, creeping to that spot.

Your torturing mouth, nipping on his thigh and his abdomen, you whispered into him, "You need to sit down, Captain?"

His fingers trembled when he pulled at the hem of his shirt, sliding the filthy garnet off, and tossing it on the floor.

Michael pulled his mouth away and sent Sy a light-hearted chuckle, he followed the dark ring around his biceps and collar bone. The Captain had developed a perfect farmers tan.

Your finger worked just passed that taught ring, Mike returning his mouth and—

"Christ, sweetheart." He didn't know who to address.

Sy's hips also didn't know which direction to move. They fell back, chasing your digits and pushing you in deeper, then kicked forward into the heat of Michael's mouth.

He ran his palm on his buzzed head, then his knees grew wobbly and–

You both guided him to the bed. Sy was compliant, more than so, especially with the way his eyelids shaded most of his blackened blues. He was puddy at the hands of you two.

You tapped his knee and told him to position his hips just over the edge, thumb back to rubbing over his sensitive hole. Mike was panting in your ear, throwing out a comment about, "You take their fingers so well Sir, so good, and god–"

His jeans were way tighter than he could say was comfortable but he neglected that.

Mike took pleasure in holding Sy's pulsing cock, slickening the member to the point of glistening. It was like he craved to make a mess over him. Leftover saliva dribbled over the man's balls, dribbling more and pooling on the surface of the couch.

His other hand was still sticky with precum, but he gathered your jaw in those fingers. He removed your mouth from Sy's hole, your tongue lapping at the ring, and revealing the view of the man clenching around nothing.

You filled him once more before Mike slanted his mouth with yours, starving and needy, swiping his tongue repeatedly against yours.

Sy's nails sunk into that couch, hips jutting into the grip of Michael's hand. It was torture, the man didn't wish to stop all of this, hell he hoped that he wouldn't finish anytime soon. That would take every drop of thought in him.

His mouth fell open though, effortless the moment your third finger was slowly pushed into his hole. Massaging and working him open just the way that he liked.

"Mm, y'all I–"

And then yours and Michael's lips fell to the veins on Sy's erection. You both shared the salt of his precum, the thrum of his heartbeat through his skin. Neither of you fighting for it, sucking his head into your mouth and Mike licking at you to get a taste.

All the while your fingers didn't dare halt, pressing deeper and deeper to the point where Sy was crumbling around you. Stimulating that sweet spot in the depths of him.

If you had peeked through your lashes, you could see how his lips were perpetually open, revealing those ragged, low sounds from his core.

You would notice his flushed face, clear to the man's ears. You would see the way Mike's palm rubbed up that man's stomach, up to roll the man's nipples between his fingers.

And you could see how Sy could hardly keep his eyes open, struggling to take everything in in front of him. Those pretty eyes fluttered. Christ, did they keep on closing, did his head fall back into the cushion of the couch.

He could feel it, that pressure wind through his spine to the point where he could say he had never quite felt that so intensely before.

Sy's eyes would close only for him to be pulled back between his legs, needing to look into two pairs of adoring eyes.

"You two a-are killing me."

You pulled the tip of his erection out of your mouth, a wet pop emerging from your lips. Mike, who had been running his tongue over Sy's balls, delicately taking each one between his lips, eventually drifted back upward.

He was sloppily taking in your remaining spit, more liquid from Sy's leaking erection.

You kept on rubbing that spot, feeling how his hole clamped around your fingers. But with your free hand you found Sy's leg again, thumb grazing along the many hairs there.

He was taking you in, gulping down a strained breath well in his stomach. You kissed, and you kissed, over the flesh of his abdomen and the sides of his ribs, over the knotted markings carved into him.

"Sy?" It took him a minute,

"Mmh?" That's all he could push out, his hand soothed up your shoulder, a thick brow lifting shallowly. His other hand was tangled in Mike's unruly curls, watching the younger man's head bob rhythmically.

And how he was still quivering, his hand shakier than he had ever seen it. Through Michael's earnest mouth he could hear you,

"Sy we just wanted to thank you."

You pressed your lips over his ribs some more, before flowing down his stomach and over the trail of hair further south.

"We appreciate everything that you do. You need to know that. You need to know that nothing you do goes unnoticed, all of the favors and the things you improve in our lives. We want to show you how much you mean to us."

Your eyes met his and through that fog you saw that man, passed his thundering heart beat and through the muscle itself. It was a challenge, 'maybe he didn't really see', you worried.

There was still hope in your chest, you could sense that somewhere he was understanding, grasping.

He had been rendered speechless in your heard. His uneven breaths still fell from his mouth, his tongue wetting his bitten lips. That large hand of his soothed over the back of your neck, fingers brushing softly the skin behind your ear.

"You make us all happy, and feel so protected. You've changed our lives, more than you will ever know."

Michael took his mouth off of him, gathering his breath and letting the Captain swipe his thumb at the spit dripping over his lower lip.

His throat was hoarse, and after a tender kiss to Sy's thumbpad he told him, "Just lay back and let us make you feel good for a little while."

Sy didn't know whose eyes to watch, bouncing back and forth, captivated and welling with a hoard of emotions. The man decided to nod his head in a daze, trying out a controlled smile. He'd tried so much before he had to let his head rest into the couch.

Every bit of tension was dissolving from his body, he'd begun to allow his body to mold, shape under the both of you.

The weary Captain observed you and Michael, gazing at you two working your love into him.

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Taglist: @mansaaay @hope-to-hell @cavillryarchive @emyearns @feralrunaway @luclittlepond @madbaddic7ed

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#captain syverson x reader #captain syverson #mike hellraiser #mike x reader #captain syverson imagine #mike: hellraiser imagine #henry cavill smut #mike x reader x sy #Let Us In

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ellie-winthrope · 4 years

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Attached Memo - [Victor]

Christmas is coming and I am supposed to be working on a fanfic for the Secret Santa event 😱, but here I am posting another random inspiration that wouldn’t leave me be 😆. Dearest recipient, I promise I will get your present ready by Christmas, by hook or by crook 😂.

The inspiration for this time’s one-shot would be from an in-game message of the same title that I received from Victor. A fellow tumblr mate @caesurables had also made a fanart related to this same in-game message, which you can check out. She also made other amazing fanarts for MLQC and other fandoms 😍.

This one-shot also contained a very slight mention of my previous one-shot for Victor, “An Echo of Innocence” at the end. Even so, you can still read this one-shot independently from that one.

Hope you all enjoy it ~

Words: 1616 words

By every month-end, the girl would need to submit a report, which consisted of her company’s financial performance and its plans for the coming month, to Victor.

Since there wasn’t anything particularly complicated about this kind of report and she usually had more than enough time for completing it, she was confident that she would get it done within two days at most. She had never expected to be unable to write up a single satisfactory sentence regarding the company’s future plans, even after spending four days at racking her brain for ideas.

At that moment, she was starting to worry that she would end up having nothing to submit to Victor when the CEO returned from his business trip. Even though she had received countless criticisms from Victor for her past reports and show proposals, she had never missed out on submitting her tasks on time, let alone not submitting anything.

To make things worse, on the day when Victor was leaving for his business trip, she had proclaimed to him on the phone that the report would already be on his desk by the time he returned to his office. Having spoken so confidently at that time, she could not possibly face Victor with a blank report now …

Why, oh, why did I say that at that time?

Of course, she knew full well the answer to her internal wailing.

Having constantly been on the receiving end of Victor’s sharp-tongued remarks, she thought she could at least show him this time that she wasn’t a dummy, that she could carry out her task efficiently!

Grrr...This is all Victor’s fault!

At this point in time, having wasted days without making any progress, her frustration had reached the limit and she didn’t want to think about her report or the approaching deadline anymore. Instead, she decided to vent out her pent-up frustrations from the past few days in the way she knew best.

She started scribbling.

It had been quite some time since she last drew something. Having been so busy with producing shows and writing reports to LFG, she hadn’t really sat down and done something fun without having her mind occupied with work-related matters.

Since the source of her frustration was the unfinished report, it wasn’t surprising that she would end up ranting about the recipient of the report in her mind as she roughly sketched out the unamused expression of a certain CEO’s face on the back of a rejected report.

Demonic, poker-face boss! Always assigning me reports and bringing forward the deadlines on a whim!

While complaining about Victor, her hand that was holding the pencil had picked up pace and she vigorously sketched out another image of Victor, a more cartoon-like and comical sketch of the CEO with an angry look, on a torn-off page of a memo pad.

Erase, draw, erase, draw.

Every time the sketch seemed imperfect to her, she would erase the line and redraw again. She didn’t know how long she had been doing that, but she wasn’t frustrated with the repeated attempts. Instead, she would sometimes laugh at the imperfections she had made on her sketch, such as when she drew Victor’s eyes smaller than actual or when she accidentally drew Victor's face too wide. When she was finally done with her sketch, she had held up the memo paper and admired it with a proud smile.

Now that I look at it, even though it’s an angry face, it did seem kind of cute… unlike the actual person.

She laughed at her own thoughts.

Stifling a yawn, she then rubbed her eyes and placed the memo paper on her table. It was nearly midnight and since she had been pulling all-nighter at home after work for four days straight, she decided to just go to sleep.

I will just work on the report tomorrow night.

Perhaps, the time she had spent on the random sketches was exactly the short break that her mind needed, as she started making good progress on the report on the very next day. Much to her relief, she managed to complete everything by the deadline. After compiling her report, she had rushed to LFG and managed to place the report neatly on Victor’s desk before the latter was there.

Phew, mission accomplished.

Heaving a sigh of relief and feeling as though a weight had been taken off her shoulders, she left LFG and decided to head to her company instead. It was when she was halfway from reaching her company that she received a message from Victor, informing her that he had noticed her report on his desk.

While she was thinking about making more silly sketches of Victor to break out of a slump next time, a thought had suddenly occurred to her, which caused her to halt her steps.

Speaking of sketches, where was that sketch that she had made of Victor nights ago?

The first possibility that instantly came to her mind was her greatest fear.

It can’t be that coincidental … right?

xxxxxxxxxx

Having returned from the overseas business trip, the first place that Victor went to was LFG and the first thing that caught his eye in his office was a stack of papers that were held together neatly with a binder clip and placed at the center of his desk. Unknowingly, a corner of his lips had tugged up slightly at that sight.

Looks like she did keep her words after all…

After sending a short message to the girl, he sat down by his desk and spent a moment looking through the report. He was going to start looking through the fifth page when he noticed something peculiar at the bottom of the page, which made one of his eyebrows arched elegantly.

On a memo paper that was stuck on crookedly at the bottom of the page, there was a pencil sketch of a man. A cartoon drawing, to be precise, which was so out-of-place among the pages of the report. Moreover, it wasn’t just any man, the more Victor looked at it, the more he realized that the face somewhat resembled … himself?

The revelation made him wonder, just what exactly was that girl thinking when she drew this?

Is this how she viewed him?

Just when he was pondering over the sketch, he felt his phone vibrated once within his pocket. He checked his phone and realized that it was a message from her.

[Hi...Is there a memo in the report I sent you?]

Without hesitation, Victor sent back a brief and concise reply within seconds.

[A memo and a scribble.]

Victor didn’t need to see her face to know her expression at that moment since anyone could easily imagine it from her following message.

[Okay, that’s the end of the conversation...I wish you a fabulous day!]

Escaping right after causing trouble? Victor didn’t give her that opportunity as he instantly replied by sending out one message after another regarding the question that was lingering on his mind upon seeing the cartoon sketch.

[Tell me what’s in your head when you draw it.]

[So, this is how you picture me?]

There was a brief pause before she replied with a hint of meekness.

[It’s a cartoon, so it’s a bit exaggerated…]

Victor was not exactly convinced by that. So, he decided to push further.

[That’s why there are flames in my eyes?]

[And my eyebrows are standing.]

[When did I look so fierce?]

There was a brief pause again before she replied.

This time, Victor could imagine her averting her eyes away from him while muttering those words indignantly.

[Maybe I can draw better if I observe the model a bit more.]

Not knowing what to say, Victor decided on the most direct and fitting reply.

[...]

Even the “…” could not fully express how baffled Victor was by her sudden shift of meek obedience to defiant indignance. Somehow, it reminded him of the past from many years ago. With a resigned sigh, he then sent out another reply.

[Observe more and hand me a better one next week.]

Perhaps, she wasn’t expecting this from him because it had taken her nearly a minute to reply back.

[Humph, alright! Let me make it clear, my creation will be based on objective facts only. So, I won’t make you look too handsome!]

Victor wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be offended or to laugh at the absurdness.

[…]

Just like before, this reply of his was followed by another sentence.

[I’d like to know the objective facts in your mind.]

This time, he kept his phone away and didn’t wait for her reply.

Looking back at the cartoon drawing of him on the memo, he let out a soft chuckle.

“It seems that, after all these years, her drawing skills have improved.”

After a moment of thought, Victor bent forward and pulled out the second drawer under his desk, he took out a small zip-lock bag containing a folded paper that had turned yellowish-brown with age. Carefully, he took the paper out from the bag, unfolded it and smoothened it before placing it right next to the cartoon sketch on his desk. There was a fond smile on his face as he looked between the faded childish sketch of the stick figures on the yellowish-brown paper and the cartoon version of his face on the memo.

Despite the simplicity and the roughness of the details of these sketches, they were considered by Victor to be far more precious than the finest artworks.

After all, these were the one-of-a-kind artworks by a certain dummy that were made with him in mind.

#mr love queen's choice #mr love mobile #mr love dream date #love and producer #evol x love #mr love fanfic #mlqc fanfic #mldd fanfic #mlqc #mldd #mldd victor #mlqc victor #mr love victor #mlqc li zeyan #li zeyan #victor li

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lettersnorth · 3 years

Photo

Loe was following directly behind Locke, but even he knew to keep his distance a few feet away from the man taking the lead. And as they ventured down a short staircase leading down into the lower levels of the ship the two doors leading into the storeroom immediately came into view. The moment they arrived Locke turned towards the rest of the crew following after him as he brought a finger up to his lips, silently motioning for the others to stay quiet while he crept up towards the door with Loe following after him. For a man of Loe's size, stealth wasn't his strongest point but he made do as he gently shuffled over the floorboards.

From the other side of the door a soft, muffled voice could be heard. A woman's by Locke's guess, and one that was quickly met with the harsh sound of a man yelling in response whose words came out much clearer. "Hey! I said shut up!"

He knelt down on one knee and pressed his face towards the keyhole, peeking through it with one eye. "I see... there's a few in there. Blindfolded. Bound. One guard. Can't make out another." His words were soft but precise, relaying little else but the information they needed to assess the situation at hand.

"I can take him," he said toward Loe before a momentary pause. "But he's too far. I need to get closer."

"Your orders, Capt'n?"

"Kick the door in when I say so."

"Aye, say when."

Locke then turned toward Aislinn, motioning her to draw closer. "Aislinn, give us some cover. Don't fire if it can be avoided. We've still got the element of surprise for the party upstairs, and I'd hate to give that up now."

She nodded in reply to his words and then hesitated. From the way it sounded Locke’s plan was to go rushing headlong into the room. “As I recall, that iron plate strapped to your chest didn’t look like it could take another hit.” her glance shifted away from him, moving down to her gun on the pretense of checking her rounds. But she knew exactly how many were in the cylinder. “Just...keep that in mind.” she said, quiet.

"I can count on you to patch me up if it came to that, wouldn't I?" he said with a playful wink. Even in their current predicament he still had a way of easing tensions.

Yes, but that was hardly the point. Twelve above, she might have had the rug pulled out from under her regarding his chosen profession but she could clearly see he was still impossible. The look she gave him in reply said as much.

Locke then turned toward Loe, giving the man a nod of acknowledgement. One that Loe responded to in kind with a nod of his own as he took one step back as his right leg rose up into the air seconds before he slammed the sole of his boot against the door. Striking near the handle itself as the wood cracked and gave way to the forceful blow, opening a path to the storage room as Locke suddenly rushed forward with the gunblade in hand pointing directly behind him as he charged forward.

The sudden blow to the door caught the lone guard inside by surprise, and the man barely had time to react before Locke came barreling through. With a pull of the trigger it soon became clear why his crew had been so cautiously putting some space behind him. It sounded like a muffled gunshot going off. One dampened by a rush of heavy wind. The force being expelled from the barrel was enough to make the one door still standing rattle as it launched the Hyur forward and with a twist of his body he used his momentum to strengthen his swing, beheading the man in one fell swoop.

The poor bastard was barely quick enough to draw his own blade midway out of its sheath before collapsing onto the ground, headless.

All said, it was over in a blink of an eye and left Aislinn frozen in stunned silence still trying to piece it all back together. She lowered her gun and her wide-eyed gaze slid to Loe to gauge the Roegadyn’s reaction. No such shock lined his face, which told her such a feat from Locke hadn’t been out of the ordinary.

The sudden commotion sent a ripple of whispers and fearful gasps from the others on board. Men, women, and children alike all bound and blindfolded. There must have been a dozen of them in total.

"Seven hells," Locke muttered softly under his breath as he took a wary glance around the room. No other hostiles, it seemed.

Shaking herself, Aislinn holstered her gun and carefully moved into the room, her eye drawn against her will to the bodiless head that had rolled several paces away. The hostages seemed to be holding their collective breath.

“Not more of your crew, I take it?” she said in reply to Locke’s soft curse. She finally looked up at him, once again redrawing his measure with an inkling that it wouldn’t be the last time she did so.

"No, I don't recognize this lot. If I had to guess, I'd say they're our missing merchants," he replied as he took out a small piece of cloth and ran it along the edge of his blade, cleaning off the blood that still clung to the metal before sliding it back into its sheath.

Aislinn crossed to the woman closest to them and knelt down. “Listen, it’s alright.” she said, careful to inject a soothing tone into her normally matter-of-fact voice. It was more to alert the blindfolded woman to her presence than anything else.

Touching her gently on the shoulders, Aislinn carefully turned her away from the sight of the bloody, beheaded man before freeing the blindfold from the woman’s eyes. That certainly didn’t need to be the first thing she laid eyes on. “Can you tell me your name? How’d you end up on this ship?” Aislinn asked as the woman blinked against the sudden light.

"Loe, get an extra pair of hands and clean this up." Locke said as he motioned the Roegadyn over. Luckily for them, there was a large piece of cloth nearby that they could use to easily hide the body for now.

The woman visibly flinched and recoiled back the moment she heard Aislinn, but upon realizing the voice was a far throw from their guard's she began to relax. "Eve... Evelyn," she replied as the blindfold came free and she began to frantically glance around the room.

"Wait, my boy. Where's my boy?" she suddenly cried out.

The voice of a young child soon answered. "Mama? Mama! I'm right here. Mama, I'm scared." he practically whimpered.

The boy lay just few feet away sprawled across the floor, squirming in his binds in an attempt to drag himself closer towards the voice of his mother.

Aislinn immediately turned to the sound of the distressed child. The sight of him flailing on the floor squeezed her heart as well as any vise-like grip. Moving to his side, she murmured a few reassuring words as she slipped a small knife from her boot and hurriedly cut his binds and pulled the blindfold down from his eyes.

With a cry, he clumsily launched himself at his mother who, still wrapped in her own ties, was nearly bowled over by the force. Aislinn made short work of her binds as well and then stood back, turning to look over the rest of the hostages, all who had their necks craned to the sounds of one little boy’s reunion with his mother. Uncertain and cautious hope rippling through them.

“Oh, thank the Twelve.” the woman dissolved into tears as her arms wrapped around her son and pulled him close to her, kissing his hair, his cheek. “It’s okay. We’re going to be okay.”

A dark look passed like a cloud over Aislinn’s face. There was an anger in her heart ready to paint the deck above red with the bodies of those who had done this. She spared a brief glance at Locke, letting her expression speak for her before she turned and, starting with the closest hostage, began freeing them one by one.

Locke motioned a few members of his crew over to follow Aislinn's example and do the same while the others went to retrieving their weapons in a nearby chest tucked away in the corner of a room. Even from her brief glance the anger in her features was as clear as day, and with the help of a few extra hands it wasn't long before the entirety of the hostages were freed.

"Thank you," some muttered quietly under their breaths toward Aislinn while a handful said nothing at all, but the anxiety was evident on their faces. And once the last man was freed it was Locke who spoke at the center of them all.

"We're not quite out of the woods yet, folks. Afraid there's still some matters to take care of upstairs. Rest assured, we'll see it done and once it's over I'll be sure to get you lot home. Until then I need you folks to sit tight." he said as a few anxious whispers spread over the group.

With the hostages freed, Aislinn had stepped back to the fringes of the room while the crew gathered their weapons and whatever else they might need from the storeroom for the fight that awaited them above. As Locke addressed the frightened merchants, she listened, of course, but more than that she watched. If he was angry his ship had been stolen out from under him and used to kidnap people across La Noscea, her rightful crew relegated to a dank brig, there was surely no sign of it at that moment. He was nothing but calm, confident reassurance. Because he could see plain as day that was what these people needed. Assurance that all would be well.

And there lay the crux of it all. A Captain needed to be a natural born performer. Because the crew was always watching, judging from his actions alone when they needed to be concerned, when they didn’t. In any situation they took their cue from him. The thought struck Aislinn with a sudden dose of clarity. How exhausting, to be ‘on’ all the time.

Locke then turned toward the woman and her son, the first of the two that Aislinn had freed. The boy clung toward his mother's side, shrinking away as Locke now stood before them.

The Hyur knelt down, bringing himself at eye level with them both as he glanced toward the boy and flashed a reassuring smile. A familiar sight to Aislinn in their brief time together. "Easy now, no one's gonna hurt you. I can promise you that. You've been a brave kid to tough it out this far. I know, why don't I show you a magic trick?"

The boy just sat there silently as Locke fished a single coin from his pocket. Another familiar trick. He let it roll between his fingers before clenching it into his right hand in a tightly wound fist. "Now, which hand is it in?" he asked the boy who pointed directly toward his right only for Locke to open it to reveal it empty.

The boy's mouth fell open as he stared in shock before quickly pointed toward Locke's left, and once again he opened it to reveal an empty palm.

"That's odd, now where did I... oh, that's right," Locke grinned as he reached forward, plucking the coin right out from behind the boy's ear. "Now how did that get there, I wonder." His words were met by a soft bout of laughter from the boy who finally relaxed his hold against his mother's arm.

"What's your name?"

"Ian," the boy replied.

"Ian, why don't you hold onto this for now?" Locke said as he placed the coin into the boy's hand. "It's a good luck charm. Kept me safe plenty of times, and now it can do the same for you." To which the boy eagerly accepted with a nod. "Now, I have a special job for you, Ian. My friends and I need to go upstairs to take care of some bad people, but I'll need someone down here to keep an eye on things and protect the others. You think you can do that for me?"

"I... I don't know mister. I'm not too sure I can,"

"What, a brave kid like you? Nonsense. I can't think of anyone else I'd trust with this job."

"Well, okay... um, I can sure try."

"Aye, that a boy." Locke reached out to gently ruffle the kid's hair before he rose and made his way toward Aislinn. "Shall we?"

As Locke approached, she dropped her hand from her chest and nodded, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of heat and flame that had begun to radiate within from the center of her chest. It had been happening more and more since the business with Red Argos began. Perhaps she was much more of an angry person than she had ever thought herself to be. A disconcerting idea, to be sure, and one she didn’t enjoy entertaining. She never pegged herself as having an uncontrollable temper. Certainly not one that burned from the inside out.

“You were right, of course. That trick is a big hit with kids.” she paused as she took a careful look into the hall. “I don’t think little Ian is going to lose that coin any time soon. Not when you've gone and turned it into bona fide good luck charm.”

She turned back to him and signaled that the way was clear.

He chuckled softly and maneuvered himself to take point once more but before he walked past he paused to draw his revolver from its holster before flipping it around and holding it out towards Aislinn with its handle pointed in her direction. "Here, take it. You're a damn good shot but it's all close quarters from here. I expect it back once this is all said and done."

"Boss, we're ready," said Loe as he approached with a heavy looking two-handed hammer in his grasp along with the others of his crew, each armed with weapons of their own.

"Aye, right to it then. Let's not keep our gracious hosts waiting."

#ffxiv rp #balmung rp #rp snippets #Lost Wings #Locke Fairwind #Aislinn North

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ericsonclan · 4 years

Text

Rockabye

Summary: Clementine and Louis are out in the woods when they hear a baby cry.

Word Count: 2856

Read on AO3:

“Been a long time since it was just you and me out here,” Clementine noted, smiling over at her husband as they walked through the woods together.

“That it has,” Louis agreed, flashing her his signature smile. “You could almost call this a date: you and I alone together, the ambient noises of the forest providing the perfect backdrop for a romantic moment or two to be stolen before we head back,”

“I would hardly call checking traps a date… but it is nice,” Clementine reached out, her hand taking Louis’. The pair let their intertwined hands swing back and forth lazily as they strolled deeper into the woods. With Maisy and Lee Kenny still so young there was rarely time where they could afford to both go out for the day. But Willy and Allison had promised to keep an eye on the kids and she and Louis had both jumped at the chance. Clementine loved her kids with all her heart but having some breathing space from the chaos was a gift to be enjoyed, one so rarely received she almost didn’t know what to do with it.

“We should take the scenic route. A little tiptoe through the tulips perhaps?” Louis grinned playfully, causing his wife’s nose to wrinkle in amusement.

“Alright. Five minutes. Then we get back to work,”

“But of course,”

Before Clementine could protest, Louis had swept her off her feet and was striding off the beaten path to a nearby patch of wildflowers. “Louis!” she exclaimed before devolving into giggles. “Put me down!”

“And risk you stepping on one of the flowers? No, my darling Clementine, leave it to me to safely navigate us to our final destination,”

“And where might that be?”

“That, my dear, is a secret,”

Clementine rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. Leave it to Louis to still come up with little adventures even after all this time. Nearly ten years together and she was just as smitten as the day they’d first crossed paths. After a few steps further, Louis placed his wife down upon a fallen log that lay near the wildflowers. Sitting down beside her, he took her hand once more. Clementine rested her head upon Louis’ shoulder, nuzzling it gently. “This is nice,”

“Best five minutes I’ve had in a long time,”

They were silent for a moment, enjoying the stillness and peace of the forest around them. There hadn’t been as many walkers around this past month, likely because most of them had gone with a large herd that had swept through the area a few weeks back. Clementine had never been more thankful to be surrounded by brick walls than when she saw the size of the herd as it slowly passed by. It had been somewhat difficult to stay behind those walls as the woods cleared out, but the time spent in lockdown had shown all of them how truly self-sufficient the school had become. Still, Clementine hoped they wouldn’t have to face anything like that again for a long time to come.

“Hold still for a sec,” Louis’ hand reached out toward her face, pausing at the corner of her eye before drawing back. On his index finger lay a single eyelash. “Go on, make a wish,”

“What?”

“Make a wish then close your eyes and blow the eyelash off my finger. Trust me, it’s a thing,”

Clementine considered her wish carefully. What did she want that she didn’t have? For years growing up on the road all she would have wished for was a home and now she had that. Not just a home, but a family that she could never have even dared to imagine. Truth be told, she didn’t really wany anything more. She just wanted things to stay the same. With that thought in mind, Clementine closed her eyes and blew away the eyelash.

The sound of a baby’s cry carried through the forest. The sound immediately tore through Clementine’s heart. Her eyes shot up to meet Louis’. They were both thinking the same thing: the children. Sprinting toward the source of the sound, both ran with all their might, their minds frantic at the possibilities of what could have happened.

The cries were coming from the opposite direction of the school. It made no sense but there was no time to try to sort through how this had happened. Clementine almost tripped, causing Louis to pause to help her. “No! Go!” Clementine screamed. Louis looked torn for a moment then ran ahead, Clementine following behind as she struggled to match his pace.

Moments later they broke out into a clearing, the sounds louder than ever. Clementine’s eyes scanned her surroundings, searching for Maisy or Lee Kenny. Neither were there. Zachariah and Savannah were nowhere to be found either. She looked to Louis, but he appeared just as lost as she was. They ran through the clearing, still searching in a panic, but there was no child to be seen. Clementine paused for a second, trying to refocus her senses to hone in on the direction the screams were coming from. There, just across from them! Grabbing Louis’ hand, Clementine ran toward the cries.

They froze as they drew near. There at the base of a large tree were at least a dozen walkers all with heads and arms lifted toward the source of the crying: a basket that dangled from one of the lower tree branches.

“It’s not one of the kids,” Clementine whispered, eyes large in disbelief.

“No,” Louis shook his head. “It’s a baby,”

“Who the fuck leaves a baby in a tree?”

“Someone desperate? Either way,” Louis drew out Chairles, “We have to act now. If they haven’t returned at the sound of its cries, they may not be coming back at all,”

Clementine nodded. Drawing the compound bow, she aimed at the nearest walker. “As soon as I hit one, the rest will see us,”

“I’ll make some noise, draw a few of them off to the side,”

“It’s a risk. If there are more getting drawn in by the baby’s cries…”

“We can do this,” Louis gave his wife a look of determination. “We have to,”

He was right. “I’ll take the first one,” Making sure her aim was true, Clementine let out a centering breath before letting the arrow fly. It shot through the air and struck its target, braining a walker before it even knew what hit it. The corpse dropped to the ground, the sound temporarily drawing the attention of the other walkers away from the baby.

“Hey!” Louis shouted, walking away from his wife to get some of the heat off of her. “Over here, deadheads! Come at me!”

The walkers eagerly gave chase, their withered legs moving as quickly as they could. Drawing another arrow, Clementine shot another one. Her aim was a bit off though. Instead of going through the brain it knocked off the walker’s jaw, already dangling by a thread of sinew. Swearing under her breath, Clementine drew again. But this time there was another walker that was nearer with one more right behind it. With barely any distance between them Clementine shot an arrow directly between its eyes before drawing her knife to face the other.

“You’re doing great, sweetie!” Louis called over before swinging out to bash in a walker’s skull. The one that Clementine had de-jawed was now making its way over to him at the sound of his voice. “Oh, you want some more pain?” Louis quipped. Swinging upwards, he hit its head so hard that the neck snapped. The walker’s head flopped over to the side, still connected to the body but dangling as uselessly as its jaw had been. With the walker posing no more immediate threat, Louis kicked it backwards, sending it tumbling into the next two walkers behind it. Striding forward, Louis brained the collapsed walkers one after another.

The baby’s cries had picked up again, its wails more like screams. The sound was drawing the walkers back and from what Clementine could hear in the forest surrounding them there were more walkers nearby. Stabbing the walker she’d been grappling with through the eye, she dug in deep, twisting the knife to pierce the brain. The walker’s milky eye burst on contact with her blade, dribbling down the hilt of her knife and onto her hand. The walker collapsed as its brain ceased to function and Clementine quickly flicked the eye and brain matter from her knife before sheathing it and redrawing her bow.

Seeing his wife was aiming for the walker nearest the basket on the left, Louis headed right. Drawing back Chairles once more, he slammed it against the side of the nearest walker’s skull from behind before backstepping quickly. He needed to spread out the remaining walkers if he was going to be able to take them out without getting bit. A walker crumpled to the ground by the tree, an arrow embedded in the back of its skull. That was another one down. Four to go. Unless… Louis glanced backwards. A pair of walkers were approaching them from behind. Those needed to be dealt with before they got the jump on them. “Clem! We got some stragglers. You good with me stepping away for a sec?”

Clementine nodded. “Go!” She could see Louis running behind her out of the corner of her eye before she refocused on her next target. A particularly tall walker looked like it actually might have a chance at reaching the baby. Its outstretched hand brushed against the base of the basket, causing it to sway back and forth. “You get the fuck away,” Clementine growled. Her next arrow struck right on target, going through the walker’s brain and embedding itself in the tree. The walker’s corpse slouched lifeless, held upright by the very arrow that had killed it. Three more to go. Behind her, Clementine could hear Louis struggling. “Need help?”

“Nah, save your arrows! These two are just being extra cranky! Isn’t that right, fellas?” Louis looked up at the pair he was facing. He’d gotten a few hits in, but one had missed and knocked an arm off instead while the others hadn’t been enough to take down the nearer walker. “You, sir, have a remarkably thick skull. I wonder if that made it hard for your teachers when you were in school. It’s certainly an inconvenience for me,” Drawing close, Louis decided to take an alternate approach. Jamming Chairles into the walker’s mouth, he used the leverage to push the creature backwards. Kicking out the other’s knee to buy himself time, Louis walked forward, forcing the walker to stumble backwards till its back hit a tree. Perfect.

Chairles was lodged firmly in the walker’s mouth, so when Louis drew his weapon back the walker came with it. “Nice try, buddy, but no cigar for you,” Thrusting forward, Louis bashed the walker’s head against the tree before forcing it forward once more to prepare for another hit. The tree grew red with the walker’s blood before finally Chairles burst through the back of its skull, killing it instantly. Louis grinned proudly at his work before realizing his mistake. This walker was dead, but Chairles was now wedged inside its skull and there was another walker mere steps away. “Clem! A little help?”

Clementine spun round to see a walker about to grab her husband. “Louis!” The walker was inches away from her husband who was desperately trying to rip his weapon out of the dead walker’s skull. There was no time to think. Drawing her bow, Clementine immediately shot it, praying her aim was true. Before she could know, a grisly hand pulled her backwards. She’d let one sneak up on her. With a frantic cry, Clementine thrust her knife behind her, hearing a loud crunch as knife scraped bone then embedded in flesh. There was the warm feeling of blood spilling upon her shoulder before the dead walker collapsed, taking Clementine down with it and pinning her beneath its weight. Clementine groaned, her breaths labored as she struggled to get out before another walker reached her.

“Clem!” Louis was at her side in seconds. Her aim had been true after all. Grabbing his wife’s hand, Louis tried to pull her out from beneath the walker. But there were more pressing problems. A walker was approaching his pinned wife and looked intent on biting her exposed ankle. “Think again, fucker!” Louis yelled, leaping forward and swinging with all his might. The blow tore off the top of the walker’s skull. Its hair fluttered back and forth on the piece of bone dangling off the side of its head. That opening was all he needed. Sending Chairles crashing down from above, Louis obliterated the offensive creature. He then spun round to check on his wife. “Clem, are you-”

“I’m alright! Just help me get the rest of the way out!” Clementine grunted with effort, struggling to free her trapped prosthetic from under the corpse. Louis rushed over, lifting the walker just enough to let Clementine slip the rest of the way out before letting it fall once more to the ground. The couple smiled at each other before glancing over to the tree where the basket dangled. Only one walker was left, reaching for the basket in dazed desperation.

“Do you want the honors, my darling?”

“Nothing would please me more,” Withdrawing her knife one last time, Clementine snuck up behind the walker and thrust the knife deep within its skull. The walker went still and she tossed it to the side, finally breathing a sigh of relief. “We actually did it,”

“That we did,” Louis smiled proudly at his wife, stepping forward to join her. Both looked up at the basket. The baby was still crying, louder than ever. They didn’t have much time before all of this would be for naught and more walkers would come wandering in. The pair shared a look. Louis dropped to his knees. “Hop up on my shoulders. I think that’s our best bet to get the basket down safely,”

Clementine nodded and climbed on, gasping slightly as her husband got back to his feet.

“You good?”

“Yeah. Take a step to your right. One more…there,” Clementine looked down into the basket for the first time. The baby couldn’t be more than a few months old. It was dressed in a ratty, oversized t-shirt and wrapped in a blanket. Its dark skin was hot to the touch, from the heat or its prolonged screams Clementine couldn’t tell. She tried to calm it for a moment before realizing that was futile until they had it safely down. Holding the sides of the basket, she looked down at Louis. “Step back slowly. We’ll have to go bit by bit till we get it off this branch,”

Louis nodded and followed suit. Inch by inch they guided the basket off the branch as the baby wailed and writhed within it. The forest seemed quiet, but they knew that could change at any second. Clementine gripped the basket tightly, adjusting and tilting it slightly to get past the bumps and grooves of the branch. Finally after what seemed like a lifetime she pulled the basket the last few inches and it was free, the weight of the basket and baby shifting to Clementine’s arms. She held it close to her chest, smiling softly down at the baby as she shifted her grip to the handle. “Gonna hand the basket down to you then hop off your back. OK, Lou?”

Louis’ hands rose to receive it. “Gotcha,”

Once she was sure the basket had been safely transferred over, Clementine slipped down from her husband’s back. She circled round to look at the crying baby Louis now held in his arms. The baby was still wailing, clearly too overwhelmed to be comforted simply through cuddles. She needed food, water, maybe medicine. “We have to get her back to the school. Then we can head back out in search of any parents or guardians she might have,”

“Look,” Louis tugged on the corner of the blanket the baby was wrapped in. On it was sewn a single word in messy, tangled thread – a name. Juliet. “Think that’s her name?”

“Maybe,” Clementine pressed the back of her hand to the baby’s forehead. Her temperature was troubling. “You carry her. I’ll cover you with the bow,”

“Alright,”

“Just give me a minute to grab the arrows,” Walking round the corpses, Clementine retrieved her spent arrows. She wondered if the person who’d left Juliet was still nearby. Did they want her? They’d left her somewhere safe, but they hadn’t come when she cried. So were they dead or simply gone? Answers would have to come later. For now their priority had to be Juliet. Rejoining her husband, Clementine notched an arrow, bow at the ready. “Let’s go,” The pair headed out side by side, the baby still sobbing against Louis’ chest. One thing was certain: they would keep Juliet safe. No matter what.

#twdg #twdg louis #twdg clementine #clouis #twdg juliet #fanfic

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goldenkamuyhunting · 5 years

Text

Ramblings and crazy theory time about GK chap 227 “Partners In Crime”

And so we reach this important chapter which talk about what one truly needs in order to turn someone into a murderer…

Too bad Tsurumi never had the chance to hear this Beatles song, he might have found it inspiring… (and by the way ‘diabolical mastermind’ is the name of a trope fitting him) but let’s go with order as this chapter is rather psychologically complicate and hard to judge objectively.

Why is that?

We’re dealing with a flashback whose settings were set in the previous chapter but… with a twist. Although this is fundamentally a flashback about Usami and Tsurumi’s past, in the previous chapter we didn’t really get a glimpse of the mind of either of them. The mind we were shown is the one of Takagi Tomoharu with the result we were influenced by his perception of the situation so we were unprepared for what Usami did (which was likely the point of hiding his point of view by the way).

The second is that since we know Usami and Tsurumi by a long time we tend to view them according to their present identities and it gets hard to think that in this flashback Usami was in between childhood and teenager years (12/13) and Tsurumi has already lost his wife and daughter but hadn’t taken part to any war yet, and he’s not even in the 7th.

And now let’s start.

The cover seems to be a redraw of the last panel of the previous chapter, although with some differences.

In addition to the increase in size we can see Usami’s foot is still above Tomoharu as if he has just hit him or he’s about to strike him again (in the last panel of the last chapter he seemed to be about to lower it), Usami’s face now well visible and clearly enraged. We can also see Tsurumi is now running to stop him.

As a cover isn’t necessarily a continuation of the story but can also merely be a summary of what happened previously, we can’t tell if the cover is meant to hint Usami is planning to hit Tomoharu again or it’s just here to summarize, to who had missed the previous chapter, what had happened before this chapter will show us how Tsurumi pushes away Usami and kneels on Tomoharu.

Usami’s expression seems back to normal as he’s pushed away, and maybe hurt. Is it because Tsurumi is getting in between or because he realized what he did to Tomoharu?

Anyway, when Tsurumi tells him to call a doctor, instead than just doing so, Usami starts to blurt out his reasons.

He didn’t want to do it, it was Tsurumi who said “to do it in this wide area” (こっちの広いところでやりなさい ‘Kotchi no hiroi tokoro de yari nasai’).

His choice of words is... kind of scary. In the scanlations they left ‘the two of you’ but Usami actually cut the initial ‘kimi-tachi’ (キミたち “You (plural)”) which was in Tsurumi’s speech in the previous chapter so that it seems as if what he’s saying is that ‘he didn’t want to do it but Tsurumi told him to do it (murder Tomoharu) there’... honestly, I worry for Usami’s mental state as in this chapter he sort of remind me of Heita.

Anyway as Usami speaks his eyes are either close or almost close as you basically see only a thick black line. There are lines on his forehead, which are usually used as signs of distress in manga.

The fact that instead than doing what Tsurumi told him, Usami is trying to defend himself shows he’s aware he did something wrong and, in the perspective of someone who’s barely a teenager, the things he lists (which are factually true), probably felt as if enough of an excuse, something at which Usami can cling.

The reaction ‘it’s not my fault’ is often typical of someone who’s trying to cope with shock or something traumatic by distancing himself from the deed he did.

In short, although we see Usami standing there apparently calm, he’s likely not that calm and comfortable with what had happened, his gaze turned away from Tsurumi and Tomoharu as if not seeing would equate to make the whole situation disappear.

Killing is always traumatic and men do a lot of mental gimmicks to excuse themselves when they commit murder but the younger you are, the better you are to wrap your own narrative around a traumatic fact so as to protect your mind from breaking.

The problem is that if you don’t face what you’ve done you only end up damaging yourself further.

Who instead is surprisingly calm given the situation is Tsurumi. Although I’m pretty sure he was surprised when Usami crushed Tomoharu’s throat, if I study the visual of the scene, it clearly wasn’t that shocking for him as his eyes remained black and Noda tends to represent shock by whitening the eyes.

While for us Tomoharu is a side character just introduced, Tsurumi clearly knew him by a while. He helped training him, he saw him grow, he seemed happy when both he and Usami wanted him to do randori with them. He should also have had a similar relation with Usami, seeing him grow, training him.

I’m not saying he had to feel a father/son bond with them but still he supposedly should care for them in some way, after all he had acted like he cared when he had supposedly supported and encouraged Tomoharu in his wish to have a last standing with Usami.

Now he wasn’t witnessing something merely ‘surprising’, he was seeing one of his students attempting to murder another of his students. Poor, agonizing Tomoharu wasn’t an enemy or just ‘a random boy he never met’, he had just volunteered to overlook on his and Usami’s match which implies also taking care of their safety. Tsurumi isn’t yet a war hardened veteran.

In short, he shouldn’t be so comfortable dealing with the idea one of his students might die. He should want him to live, even if only because there could be consequences for him as well if Tomoharu were to die.

Remember when Tsurumi asked Tomoharu ‘how his father was doing?’ a chapter ago? It wasn’t just a question out of politeness. Tsurumi asked about Tomoharu’s father so as to show proper respect to a superior officer because Tomoharu’s father is a higher up in the 2nd division in which, at the time, Tsurumi belonged. That’s also why Tomoharu is going to Tokyo, to get into an army school (like Koito did).

In short Tomoharu’s economical and social situation is drastically different from Usami, who’s apparently the son of a farmer and is supposed to stop studying to help him in the fields… but it’s also clear that Tomoharu’s father is someone who could be powerful enough to cause Tsurumi lot of troubles if his son were to die while under his supervision.

Yet from this point on Tsurumi will stop caring of Tomoharu’s survival, he’ll stop attempting to give him some sort of medical aid. Chatting with Usami is more interesting.

So, he turns to look at Usami, a dark background behind him and instead than urging again Usami to call for a doctor, he calmly claims he did all he did because he had no idea Usami would have done that ‘to his friend’. To be exact Tsurumi uses ‘Shin'yū’ (親友) which means something like “close/intimate friend” and, by extension, can be translated as “best friend”.

It’s worth to mention Tomoharu is still alive right then, fighting to draw another breath, even if Tsurumi doesn’t care about it anymore.

Now we readers too probably assumed Usami and Tomoharu were close friends. TOMOHARU was always calling Usami, wanting to spend time with him, wanting to beat him, desperate to leave him… Tomoharu.

We never saw Usami being interested in him and now that Tsurumi has called Tomoharu ‘his best friend’, Usami clearly begs to differ as he repeats ‘my best friend’ his expression turning enraged again.

In what looks like a fit of hysteria, nodding his head back and forth, the visual making him look almost as if he had two heads, as if to depict his contrasting feelings or a split in his personality, his face still a mask of rage, Usami starts listing all the times in which Tomoharu didn’t act like a ‘best friend’ would. In a way it reminds me of when he beat Ariko. Here it’s a clear sign of distress even if it’s also a clearly disturbing sight that makes him look as if he’d gone mad.

So, while the previous chapter focused on Tomoharu’s side of his relationship with Usami, now we get Usami’s side.

Usami in a clearly disturbed tone, if the font Noda is using can be taken as a hint, points out to how Tomoharu always interrupted his time together with Tsurumi forcing Tsurumi to give him attention because Tomoharu’s father is a big shoot in the 2nd division.

[It’s worth to note that Usami didn’t say ‘bastard’ when referring to Tomoharu, that’s just something translators chose to use as Usami didn’t use any way to refer to him. Usami’s exact words are “Itsudatte Tokushirō-san to no jikan o jamajiya gate” [いつだって「篤四郎さんとの時間」を邪魔じやがって] which means just “Always getting in the way of ‘(my) time with Tokushiro-san’” and they are clearly missing the subject (Tomoharu) which translators had to include and chose to do so by having Usami calling him ‘bastard’ to better drive home how enraged Usami is.]

Usami points out how Tomoharu was planning to go to the Army Youth School in Tokyo so as to get close to Tsurumi by becoming an official like him.

He points out to how he looked down at him till that day, by refusing to tell him the truth.

Then, for each thing he lists, he says he can forgive him, in a big, normal, bold font (in the Japanese version. In the scanlations scanlators chose to use the same font).

In a way the 2 heads he seems to be having also can represent this, one head is for listing ‘Tomoharu’s wrongdoings’ in a disturbed tone, the other is to say ‘he’ll forgive him’ in a loud tone. Usami is split between his rage and the fact he wanted to forgive Tomoharu.

Now… the flashback showed Usami being trained by Tsurumi in 1893. In 1891 Tsurumi was shown being in Vladivostok. Fina and Olga’s death might have taken place in autumn (when Kiro and Wilk were hunting martens they were more lightly dressed than when they dropped by Tsurumi and Fina and Olga died) and then Kiro, Wilk and Sofia used the drift ice that forms in winter to reach Karafuto.

All this to say that till around the end of 1891 Tsurumi was likely still in Russia, so he moved in Japan in either 1892 or 1893.

Why this is relevant?

Because it tells us Tsurumi hadn’t been always present in Usami’s life, by the time the flashback started he was back in Japan by a little more than 1 year at best, or more likely, by much less. It would explains why Usami’s father have no idea who this Tokushiro-san his son is talking about is, because Tsurumi had been for a long time in Russia so the people in the town don’t remember/know him.

On the other side Tomoharu could have been around Usami from when the two were small. They could have been friends… maybe best friends the way kids can be best friends… before Usami developed a mad crush/obsession for Tsurumi and started interpreting everything Tomoharu did as Tomoharu’s attempts at getting between him and his love interest.

Of course WE know Tomoharu never planned to do such thing, he likely was totally unaware of Usami’s crush but jealousy is an ugly beast that warps everything and so Usami was completely fooled. He’s in between 12 and 13 and very young and immature and completely taken by Tsurumi it’s no surprise he misinterpret.

On the other side it’s true Tomoharu wasn’t a perfect friend as he didn’t understand Usami at all, tried to use him to gain confidence (the idea if he were to beat him he would find the courage to live in Tokyo), wasn’t fully honest with him (how he couldn’t tell him the truth about going to Tokyo) and didn’t care of how Usami would feel if he were to finally beat him. Of course as Tomoharu is rather young it’s pretty normal his friendship with Usami is still self-centered and that this could end up hurting Usami even though Tomoharu didn’t mean to.

However… it’s interesting to wonder… before starting to obsess for Tsurumi… how did Usami feel in regard to Tomoharu? Did he consider him as a friend? Is he so enraged because he saw him as a friend in the past and felt that friend had left him down? Or he never liked Tomoharu to begin with and had to get along with him merely because Tomoharu was up in the social scale?

Honestly I think it’s relevant how, when he says he’ll forgive him, the font used is a normal, big and bold one.

It makes me think Usami is being sincere in saying he forgave Tomoharu and that there’s the possibility that Usami originally viewed him as a friend and wanted to forgive him like a good friend would do.

Still, it’s hard to say and anyway it doesn’t matter anymore.

Usami goes on listing Tomoharu’s actions which he perceived against him, claiming the last one was something he could never forgive. It’s at this point we learn Usami has overheard Tomoharu and Tsurumi’s discussion in the dojo (it’s from that discussion Usami learnt Tomoharu was going to Tokyo) and that said discussion continued after the bit we were shown in the previous chapter.

The discussion continued with Tsurumi fundamentally saying to Tomoharu he could beat Usami, that he can become stronger than him.

And this is what breaks Usami as we see that when Usami overheard it, his face contorted in rage.

Usami, very naively, believed that him being the best in the dojo is something that connected him to Tsurumi, is something that made him ‘special’ in Tsurumi’s eyes as if it were some sort of love declaration and not merely an acknowledgement of his ability.

If Tomoharu were to beat him, Usami wouldn’t be number 1 anymore in Tsurumi’s eyes and would lose his connection with Tsurumi, the only thing Usami claimed he had, the only thing that mattered to him, opposed to Tomoharu who, due to his father being in the 2nd and him going to become an officer, would have many more things that would connect him to Tsurumi.

Usami wants to be Tsurumi’s number 1 but Tsurumi told Tomoharu he can easily replace Usami. Is it true? Why is Tomoharu doing this to him, trying to snatch away Usami’s spot in Tsurumi’s eyes? That’s what Usami was likely thinking.

In his mad jealousy Usami doesn’t see Tomoharu has no interest in connecting with Tsurumi, just with Usami.

When Tomoharu found Usami outside the dojo, although he looked calm, Usami clearly had a storm inside and Tomoharu… didn’t realize at all, didn’t worry at all of how Usami would feel if he were to lose to him. I don’t mean he had to understand Usami was unhealthily obsessed with Tsurumi, it would have been enough to understand Usami took pride in being number 1 and could be saddened by losing the way Tomoharu was saddened by losing, instead it doesn’t even brush Tomoharu’s mind. He’s young, it’s normal he would focus on himself and not on the consequences this could have on Usami.

Tomoharu is just young and immature but his insistence in fighting as well as the fact Usami overheard Tsurumi thinks Tomoharu can beat and replace him, ends up causing Usami’s control to shatter.

Usami can’t allow Tomoharu to beat him and snatch his place in Tsurumi’s heart, he has to show Tsurumi he’s number 1. The result is something we all know. When Tomoharu ends on the ground and refuses to accept his loss, Usami loses it and ends up attacking a vital spot, effectively silencing him and giving him a slow death.

If you think at it calmly and rationally it’s fully insane but if you’re barely a teen, possibly in a hormonal storm with a crush that’s bigger than yourself, a sense of jealousy that’s planet-sized and the possibility to actually murder your love-rival you can delude yourself this makes sense.

There are two things that come to my mind here, one is a scene from “Magia Record” (“Puella Magi Madoka Magica” sidestory).

If you’re unfamiliar with it the plot idea is that ‘magical girls’ are forced to risk their life fighting witches (and yes, this is no “Bishojou Senshi Sailor Moon”, magical girls can die) but if they accept to become magical girl they can get one free wish at… everything really, they can even ask for a miracle.

Anyway a girl accepted to become a magical girl in order to get a date with the boy she liked. She admits they had broken up in the end, so it wasn’t like he was the perfect person for her, and this has stuck her in that dangerous situation from which she’d like to escape and that she regret becoming a magical girl but she still states that, at the time, dating that boy meant EVERYTHING to her.

In short when you are young and in love your emotions might cause you to blow things out of proportions. A date with a boy that wasn’t even perfect for her wasn’t worth that life but still at the time she couldn’t see it.

Usami is the same. For him Tsurumi’s words that he’s the best are EVERYTHING.

The second thing that comes to my mind is from “Video Girl Ai” and it’s about how people are prone to give most of the blame or the full blame not to their loved one but to the one with whom they loved one betrayed them.

In short Usami, instead than feeling as if Tsurumi had made fun of him or had lied to him by telling him he was the strongest only to tell Tomoharu he could beat Usami, took it out on Tomoharu.

At this point Tsurumi embraces the still enraged and out of it Usami, APOLOGIZING TO HIM and telling him he said such words because he assumed Tomoharu would give up and go home if he were to tell him that as USAMI IS STILL HIS NUMBER 1.

Tsurumi’s expression as he apologizes and says he lied to Tomoharu is pretty detached and, at first, he’s not even watching Usami who was still shaking with rage. However this is enough to cause Usami to make a 180° turn. His face go back to normal, his rage dissipates and he smiles claiming he feels relief.

Now… remember what I said before, at the start of this meta?

‘If you don’t face what you’ve done you only end up damaging yourself further.’

Usami succumbed to rage and jealousy and committed murder supposedly over a misunderstanding (honestly I’ve no idea if Tsurumi triggered his rage on purpose or decided to capitalize on what had happened only later, when he realized what he had done).

He was young and although some countries think 10 is an age in which a child can be prosecuted as if he were an adult for murder, the majority thinks you’ve to be much older to realize the implications of your actions and have the necessary self control to restrain yourself in a stressing situation.

Tsurumi could have used his influence on Usami to help him to understand what Usami did WAS WRONG. I could give him a pass for covering up Usami’s murder as Usami was young and acted in a moment of emotional storm but not for VALIDATING Usami’s actions as if they were RIGHT and RIGHTFUL.

In this way he encouraged an already emotionally unstable youth to consider murder as the best option in any situation. Usami, from this experience, doesn’t learn to control himself, he learns to vent his worst emotions and that’s why he grows up as an adult who thinks the best option is to murder people.

And so the attention moves back on Tomoharu again.

This time Usami refers to him directly, not calling him ‘bastard’ but calling him ‘sore’ (それ “It/that thing”). He’s not insulting him, he’s objectifying him, denying the fact he was human. He’s distancing himself from him as he asks if Tomoharu is dead. The visual is interesting as well, because it shows Usami pecking at Tomoharu while holding Tsurumi’s arm and almost hidden behind him as he claims they’re ‘Kyōhan’ (共犯 “partners in crime/accomplices”).

In short he’s persuaded Tsurumi agrees with his actions but at the same times he’s searching still his support and protection. He’s turning Tomoharu’s death into something that validates their relation, that unites them, reframing it into something good and precious. Tsurumi let him, actually he supports him in this by making a cover story for Tomoharu’s death and sharing it with Usami.

The story is that Tomoharu had been kicked by the horse Tsurumi was riding and that’s why he died. The result is that Tomoharu’s father went berserk with rage and killed Tsurumi’s horse under Usami’s eyes. Usami is clearly shocked by this, his eyes going fully white.

Tomoharu’s father’s actions told him what he did was wrong, that HE should have been the one ending like the horse. Usami tried to bury it inside himself but we saw how, in chap 225, Usami supposedly murdered a horse, and then looked at it in the same way he looked at Tsurumi’s horse.

I think the idea Noda is trying to deliver is that although Usami worked hard to reframe Tomoharu’s death into something good, a side of him deeply buried inside him, still felt guilty for what he did and he took it out on the horse. This is something Usami can’t face, he can’t face or he’ll break, his mind split between how Tomoharu wasn’t a good friend because he tried to steal Tsurumi from him and how he would still forgive him because Tomoharu probably had been a friend for him before his obsession for Tsurumi started.

Meanwhile we go back to 1895, Tsurumi and Usami standing on the yard where Tomoharu died that Usami called ‘his sacred place’. Now Usami confirms that’s so because that’s the place where he first killed a person, the info box adding ‘where he lost his virginity’ or, more specifically it says just ‘Boku no dōtei sōshitsu’ (僕の童貞喪失 “The loss of my male virginity”) where ‘dōtei’ specifically refers to male chastity/virginity.

So yes, Usami is comparing what he did to having sex with Tsurumi, not just to a vague loss of innocence. He then claims he had come to those sacred ground countless times to remind himself about that day, to better wrap himself in that lie, claiming it’s a secret between just him and Tsurumi. In short he managed to fully persuade himself what had happened was something good, something romantic, something that ties him to Tsurumi.

Usami than says he heard from Takeda that due to how Tsurumi’s horse caused Tomoharu’s death, Tomoharu’s parents hated Tsurumi and made difficult for him to remain in the second division.

It’s interesting how now Usami is using ‘ano ko’ (あの子 “that child”) to refer to Tomoharu. Of course he might be quoting Takeda but normally we don’t quote people word for word, we report what they say in our words unless their words were peculiar or needed to be reported exactly. So it’s possible that, although Usami is still refusing to call Tomoharu by name, he’s starting to acknowledge him back as a person, or more specifically as a child. Or maybe not. Hard to say as manga often have people quoting other people word by word even if this isn’t exactly normal.

Usami anyway seems touched Tsurumi would cover up for him even if he knew this would have happened, likely framing it as another proof Tsurumi loves him.

Tsurumi claims that’s why he was demoted to a position in Hokkaido but claims this is all right as being farther away from central command allows him to act with more freedom than he might have had otherwise.

Now… since in the Sino-Japanese war Tsurumi was still in the 2nd division with Tsukishima and the Sino-Japanese war has just ended, his being moved in Hokkaido should be a recent thing... but the fact he was demoted well explains why, despite being so good, he’s still stuck at the rank of first lieutenant. It’s not just lack of family support, it’s also due to an officer hating him.

Then Tsurumi cleverly wraps the whole thing as if it was all something he did for Usami by saying he thought it would be an awful waste if someone as interesting as Tokishige-kun ended up being destroyed.

Yeah, Tsurumi defines Usami as ‘Kyōmibukai sonzai’ (興味深い存在 “Interesting being/existence”) and maybe it’s just me but this sounds more like he finds Usami some sort of interesting specimen than a love declaration but Usami misses this and, again, warps this in his mind as some sort of love declaration.

Now, it’s worth to mention this time, when Tsurumi speaks Tokishige’s name isn’t written in katakana anymore (usually when Tsurumi would talk to him his name would be written in katakana [トキシゲくん ‘Tokishige-kun’]) but in kanji [智春くん ‘Tokishige-kun’]. Japanese readers interpreted this as Usami rising in importance for Tsurumi… or better for Tsurumi’s plan.

Anyway Tsurumi stretches his hand toward Usami, saying he’ll be waiting for him to join him in the 7th division.

It’s worth to note that the Hokkaido division was a territorial division which was converted to field infantry division in 12 May 1896, in the aftermath of the First Sino-Japanese War. We’re in 1895 but Tsurumi might be aware of the conversion and think that place would be a good place in which to cultivate his ambitions for dictatorship.

The part of the flashback that regards Usami’s meeting with Tsurumi ends here.

We’re still in flashback zone though as now we’re shown how Tsurumi’s discussion with Takeda, which started in chap 225, continued. Remember when they were talking about how men found difficult to kill people?

Tsurumi continued talking with Takeda about it, about how to make soldiers who would kill enemies troops without hesitation, explaining how he witnessed ‘an incident in which someone overcame is resistance in killing’ (basically he’s talking of how Usami killed Tomoharu) and how that fact stuck within him and he continued to think at it and finally, during the war, he discovered the answer on what caused that boy to act that way.

He claims what motives soldiers to kill isn’t hatred for the enemy troops, nor fear or difference in political ideals (yeah, as if common people of that time were interested in politics… Tsurumi, really!).

Tsurumi, with an helated face, claims it’s love what pushed people to kill, behind him appearing the images of Ogata, Koito, Usami and Tsukishima, as if to hint that they all committed murders out of love.

Now, while some info box informs us of how, during the World wars and during the Vietnam war soldiers claimed they found easier to kill due to the powerful and loving relationships they formed with their comrades and out of fear of betraying the expectations of superior officers they admired and adored and fellow soldiers they loved we see how Tsurumi manipulated Tsukishima, Ogata and Koito.

For Tsukishima there’s the whole ‘I lied to save you my precious friend’ which pushed Tsukishima to risk his life to save tsurumi, for Ogata there’s the scene in which he promises him acknowledgement in the 7th division and for Koito there’s the scene in which he helped him to stand after beating him and how Tsurumi went to rescue him.

We don’t get anything for Usami but, I think, it’s unnecessary as it would mean to show us what we just saw in the flashback.

This basically tells us they all were manipulated into ‘loving Tsurumi’ and doing everything for him… or so Tsurumi assumed, even if this is clearly a flash forward as Tsurumi will manipulate those three only AFTER speaking with Tanaka.

Anyway Tsurumi’s idea he has been successful is quite mistaken.

Tsukishima saved him out of inner kindness, quickly discovers the truth but remains loyal to him due to believing there’s nothing else he can do. It’s not love it’s hopelessness.

Ogata did things for love… but not Tsurumi’s love, he wanted to get his father’s love.

Koito crushed on Tsurumi as well also thanks to his naivety but the one he loves the most are clearly his father and Tsukishima, Tsurumi being merely an infatuation.

Tsurumi has barely grasped the mechanisms that push a man to kill another.

It’s not just ‘I love my boss and my companions’ but also ‘I’m trapped in this situation with no way out, dealing with overwhelming emotions that cloud my judgment and naively think this will solve everything’.

There’s a huge component of desperation that pushes men to act, as well as rage, self preservation, fear, confusion, sense of entrapment, pressure.

Tsurumi is over-simplifying everything, thinking he discovered the exact formula to rule men and their hearts when he’s just grazing at the surface of things.

No wonder he fails with Ogata and gets easily discovered by Tsukishima while Koito planned to drop him as soon as he had discovered the truth. He doesn’t understand his men, he creates illusions, offers them sweet lies to influence them in the moment in which they’re psychologically at their weakest and thinks that’s the key to hold them in his power forever, that they will never question him or rebel to him.

And in the end, even if love were to be the key, Tsurumi doesn’t offer them love, just an illusion of it. His men delude into thinking he cares when he’s just using them.

I think that’s why he should lose to Asirpa, because Asirpa offers genuine love to the people she cares for but we’ll see.

Tsurumi tosses in it’s also a battle between the soldiers and guilt but he doesn’t really care to dig into it much, he worries more into how to create soldiers who could do any sort of dirty deeds for him. He then goes and claim that many soldiers are just sheep but occasionally among them there’s one who’s a dog, who’s born soldier, who’s aggressive and loyal and feels no guilt or remorse about killing people and Tsurumi feels it’s vital to have soldiers like that in his troop.

Well, normally we would say a ‘wolf’ but the choice of the word ‘dog’ ties this well witht he story Asirpa told in chap 225 and with a characteristic Tsurumi wants his men to have and that stereotypically belongs to dogs but not to wolves. Dogs are loyal to their masters (opposed to wolves who have no master).

In short Tsurumi aims to have an army of loyal psychopaths without knowing psychopaths aren’t as easy to control as he seems to think… and that many people he exchanges for ‘ideal soldiers’ are actually just traumatized guys, not naturally born psychopaths but people who either went through trauma or reacted in the wrong way to pressure and ended up twisting themselves so that they suppressed their guilt and become extremely murder prone.

Anyway, as Tsurumi says so we go back to present time and to Usami, of whom Tsurumi has understood nothing. Usami’s hysterical crisis was a sign that Usami wasn’t a natural cold blood killer, otherwise he would have just shrugged off calmly how he murdered Tomoharu (not mentioning we would have had a lot more signs of Usami being a sociopath during his youth) and wouldn’t have cared to murder again a horse that much later.

Usami is currently unstable and very dangerous as his actions of that day had been excused and legitimated and he never properly faced them but was encouraged to continue through that way. No wonder his eyes have the ‘crazed whiteness of the irises’ in a permanent manner now and no light.

Usami says to Kikuta the murderer kills for the sake of killing, that he will return to the crime scene, fantasize about it and masturbate to his fantasies, and this is something he can understand...

...implying he did the same... which would already clash with Tsurumi’s idea that murders are moved by love... and, more than anything, would clash with the reason why he killed Tomoharu which was merely the fear to lose his connection with Tsurumi, not the enjoyment to kill people. Though well, over the years things might have changed for Usami, and in his attempt to cope with what he did and the way he chose to cope with it (seeing it as an act of love toward Tsurumi) he might have grown to transfer this to all his following murders and therefore ‘enjoying them as proofs of his love for Tsurumi’. Or just having turned so deranged, even the initial gimmick of connecting them to his love for Tsurumi got lost and, like Pavlov's dog, he subconsciously conditioned himself to enjoy murdering.

Now, you’ve probably heard how ‘The criminal always returns to the scene of the crime’. In truth is not true for all the crimes, it tends to be true only for crimes of ‘passion’ as the culprit, as Usami said, gets off relieving the crime. Psychopaths who’re good at planning their crimes for example tend not to do it as it would be stupid. Arsonists instead are a lot more prone to do it.

The FBI "Crime Classification Manual" roughly divide serial killers in 3 categories: organized, disorganized and mixed.

Organized serial killers are normally the smart type who plans their crimes beforehand which includes carrying a weapon with them and, once they’re done, feel no regrets and wouldn’t be that stupid to go back to their crime scene.

Disorganized serial killers obey an uncontrollable urge, use weapons found on the scene and might have regrets in the aftermath either out of guilt or fear to be discovered which can push them to go back to the crime scene.

It’s clear Usami’s murder was out of sudden rage and he coped with it by romanticizing it and transforming it into some twisted form of manifestation of his love for Tsurumi when instead it was just him losing his cool out of jealousy and getting so angry he couldn’t contain himself and stomped on his ‘love rival’s’ throat.

Even his recurring habit to go to the crime scene is nothing else but a way to cope, to reassure himself of his own action… which clearly made him a very disturbed individual but not an organized serial killer.

Now our ‘Jack’ carried with himself his own knife and clearly planned his murder. He chose the timing, night, and his target, a drunken prostitute in a poor area which he drew in an empty place before abruptly murdering her. Then he performed his sick ritual of eviscerating her, confident no one would come bother him.

I’ll say Jack is a much more organized murderer than Usami who, in Tomoharu’s murder, clearly lacked in the planning department a lot and nowadays never get a honorable mention for planning something, ending up on getting discovered when he tried to do spy work for Tsurumi.

It’s hard to say if his murders are out of ‘passion’ because, even if people tends to think that the murder of sex workers is tied to it, this isn’t always the case.

Gary Ridgway killed killing 48 sex workers just because they were easy preys, as he could easily pick them up and won’t be reported when going missing.

Peter Sutcliffe instead murdered sex workers because ‘the voice of God told him so’.

Samuel Smithers apparently did so because so traumatised by his abusive childhood that he hadn’t really known what he was doing.

Rurik Jutting was just a sadistic sexual predator.

So it changes according to the case.

As for Noda he showed us both organized and cold murderer, like Sekiya, and disorganized and passionate ones, like Henmi but, interesting enough, it was Sekiya who went back to his crime scene, and not to get his jollies out of it but merely to draw more victims. Henmi didn’t bother doing so, nor did Sakamoro and O-gin even if they were clearly having a blast when killing.

So… it’s hard to say what Noda will chose to do with ‘Jack’.

Personally I would like for Usami to be wrong if only to slam in his face not everyone works like him, that what he did is not the norm. I fear it’s too late by now to help him realize what he did but who knows, maybe I’m wrong. Though the things I would find more interesting is, if like he had done with Koito, Ogata were to manage to instill the doubt toward Tsurumi in Usami’s heart. But this might be just me.

Elsewhere in the hospital Koito and Inkarmat are, Nikaido is searching for his prosthetic hand that, apparently, disappeared while he was sleeping.

Koito, snickering and hiding something under the covers suggests ‘someone’ hid it because the thing Nikaido does with the chopsticks is annoying. It’s not really hard to guess who that ‘someone’ is.

Personally I find this an assholish move like few others.

You DON’T steal someone’s prosthetic, it’s not fun, they’re like a part of that person’s body. They need them.

Inkarmat then volunteers to use clairvoyance to find it, which makes Nikaido extremely grateful (he even calls her respectfully ‘Inkarmat-san’).

Inkarmat senses a strong sense of it coming from Koito. Me too and I’m not into clairvoyance.

Interesting enough though now Inkarmat uses ‘Koito Nispa’ instead than ‘Koito-san’ as she did in chap 222. Was that a mistake? Or she has started calling him ‘nispa’ out of late?

We’ll see.

Anyway Koito, naïve child he is, is shocked he got found out and hands Nikaido’s hand back. Tsukishima claims he too could have guessed it and really, I’m disappointed in him. He shouldn’t have allowed Koito to do it.

Meanwhile Koito starts praising Inkarmat’s ability munching on an Ikema root that guards people against evil. Inkarmat evidently gave him a discount because she sold it to him for 20 sen while Shiraishi paid 70 sen. That or she starts with a low price and then increases them on the way.

Tsukishima says she should stop swindling money form Koito. He could have told Koito to stop hiding Nikaido’s hand for a change. That was more harmful than getting 20 sen from Koito.

Koito defends Inkarmat, claiming if Tsukishima doesn’t believe her he should just ask her to search something for him. Tsukishima gives him a sideway glance then turns his gaze away claiming he refuses. Not meeting Koito’s gaze, Tsukishima? Do you maybe feel guilty?

Inkarmat volunteers to search for him something he can’t find or that he’s searching for. We get a flashback showing us Igogusa’s hair, making clear that’s what Tsukishima is thinking about.

Tsukishima still tells Inkarmat she shouldn’t try to think she can win him over to her side.

Basically Tsukishima thinks Inkarmat’s actions are so that Koito and Nikaido will become her allies and that she’s trying to win him as well but this won’t work on him, no, much better to trust in Tsurumi’s ‘sweet lies’ that promise him a place in his royal guards than in Inkarmat’s that promise him to see the person he loves again. Really, Tsukishima, you should reconsider who you put your trusth in.

Inkarmat, with a sad gaze points out to how Tanigaki should have returned from Hokkaido but hadn’t dropped to see her so she asks if she’s a hostage.

Tsukishima doesn’t reply, his face is hidden but shadowed.

Meanwhile Nikaido complains his chopstick don’t come out of his hand and, there’s something stuffed in. When he manages to pulls it out it turns out it’s Youkan, an emergency ration Nikaido can eat without chopsticks so evidently Koito hadn’t just stolen the hand, he also has tampered with it, obviously exchanging Nikaido’s hand, if not Nikaido himself, for some sort of toy he can play with.

Someone give him a spanking please.

I’m really sorry for all the troubles he had to face and for the situation he’s in but he’s being a brat in need of a spanking and if he gets one maybe he can stop following Tsurumi like a lost child and start following someone who’s more morally sound since, in order to get him to behave, all Tsurumi needed to do was to give him a slap.

Anyway, with this, the chapter ends.

Well, to start from the end it’s clear Inkarmat is aware of her condition and I like how she’s trying to win allies over. Clearly, if she weren’t in such an advanced state of pregnancy, Tsurumi won’t manage to keep her there for long.

Something else worth to ponder is that Tsukishima can claim all he wants he’s fine the way he is but he’s still thinking at Igogusa and can’t let her go even if he can’t find the guts to dump Tsurumi and go search for her.

I’m not sure of what’s going in Koito’s mind as he just seems to be enjoying his time in the hospital, free of responsibilities and worries. Maybe he’s just metaphorically attempting to hide his head under a cover and forget about the situation he’s in.

I pity Nikaido. He’s not a good person but they had basically broken him and turned him into a guinea pig for drugs and this is inhuman.

I still don’t know why Tsurumi wanted Usami and Kikuta to tag along unless he aims to get rid of Kikuta because Kikuta still isn’t willing to do every dirty deed Tsurumi would want him to do… which might have been originally why Nikaido and Usami were sent in Noboribetsu ahead of Tsurumi.

Then Toni Anji got involved in the mix and things became troublesome and the plan to get rid of Kikuta, who had moral values and a rank that’s rather high, got scrapped.

We’ll see.

I honestly hope Tsurumi’s plan to use love to control people will blow in his face. As hard as possible. Thinking that he should warp something as good as love making his men worship him and turn into remorseless murders is… I’ve no words for it.

As for Usami… a part of me pities him.

When he kills Tomoharu he’s barely a teen, and it’s clearly not a planned thing, it’s out of an excess of negative emotions, piling up stress and delusions. Killing a person in a fit of anger is something that sadly happens more often than not to grown up adults who should know better but just ‘lost it’.

As for kids… it is rare for a child under the age of 14 to kill someone; approximately 74 children a year do so in the United States which is less than 1% of all homicide perpetrators with the vast majority (90%) being boys between the ages of 11 and 14 who, about 75% of the time, kill someone older.

That’s because children usually fall in one of the following groups.

1- Older sibling beating to death the younger sibling of 0-2 when taking care of him or her.

2 - Child kills a relative, usually a parent or grandparent who abused of him.

3 - Child grabbing a gun and killing a peer during a moment of anger.

4 - Young teen shooting an adult stranger during a robbery or break-in.

5 - Teens (often gang members) attacks a lone victim or group of victims as part of an ongoing conflict.

Although Usami didn’t use a gun he clearly fell in the 3rd group. His martial arts proficiency and the situation worked like a charm to turn him into a lethal weapon even without the gun.

Children control poorly their anger and aren’t fully aware of the consequences of their actions. Their brain just isn’t developed enough yet. Usami was enraged, delusional, stressed and dangerous. What’s worse, when the deed was done no one helped him to cope with it.

Nihei too killed people in a long lasting bound of anger for they had targeted him, not stopping not even when the last one was caught by the police but then he realized his mistake. It took him time but he at least managed to realize by doing so he had downgraded himself to the level of a beast.

There’s no one to tell young Tokishige what he did WAS WRONG, that there was no good reason to excuse it, helping him to cope with it in a correct way. No, he’s only helped to think what he did was right and encouraged into doing again for Tsurumi. From the way Noda depicts him… I fear Usami had gotten too twisted to realize what he did, what he’s still doing, was wrong. In a way maybe the fact Usami still uses ‘boku’ to say ‘I’ instead of going with the much more adult ‘ore’ as the rest of the soldiers might be Noda’s way to tell us Usami never truly grow up from when he was barely a teen and killed Tomoharu. For him time stopped to that day.

In a way it did. That day probably split him in two, an Usami pre-murder who was like any other normal kid and an Usami post-murder, obsessed with Tsurumi, what he had done for him and what he will do for him in the future. Yet the murder of the horse let me wonder if, in a small corner inside him there’s still a small Tokishige who knows the truth and regrets Tomoharu’s death.

In a way Usami might be similar to Heita… or Sugimoto as he too has inside himself the kind and gentle Sugimoto of before the war and ‘soldier Sugimoto’ who can easily murder whoever he sees as a threat. We’ll see.

On another note… if the whole thing between Tomoharu and Usami on a side resembles Sugimoto and Toraji’s relation, it also presents elements of similitude with Ogata and Yuusaku. Tsurumi, who initially seemed to hold Ogata in great esteem, then starts to switch his interest on Yuusaku, praising him and his noble blood. Ogata, the poor child like Usami versus Yuusaku, the son of an officer like Tomoharu. And Ogata, like Usami did with Tomoharu, kills Yuusaku but this time it’s not for Tsurumi. It’s for Hanazawa as the love Ogata is desperately searching is the one of Hanazawa. That’s why Tsurumi’s words that promised Ogata great prestige might have fallen flat on Ogata. Ogata didn’t want such promises from Tsurumi but from his real father, he wanted genuine fatherly love, not Tsurumi’s attempt at seduction.

Maybe that’s why Tsurumi can’t understand Ogata.

In a way Tsurumi is egocentric, he thinks he can get his men to worship him and die for him but Ogata is unwilling to do so and Tsurumi can’t understand why his ‘Tsurumisexuality’, as we jokingly call it in Discord, failed on him.

We’ll see.

Well, this is all for this chapter.

I’m kind of surprised Noda placed the flashback in what basically will be the middle of the volume instead that at the end as he did for Tsukishima and Koito but well, Ogata’s flashbacks also were placed in the middle of the volume so it’ not such a surprising occurring.

Well, we’ll see what GK has in store for us.

Last but not least many apologies if this meta isn’t as good as the others. There were tons of things I wanted to say and I had to rewrite it many times but it still feels lacking so I apologize. All I can say is I attempted to do by best. I hope it didn’t turn out too bad.

#Golden Kamuy #Usami Tokishige #Tsurumi Tokushirou #Takagi Tomoharu #Takeda #Inkarmat #Nikaidou Kouhei #Koito Otonoshin #Tsukishima Hajime #Ogata Hyakunosuke #Tanigaki Genjirou #Golden Kamuy Ramblings and Theories #Michael Ostrog #Kikuta Mokutarou #Harumi Chiyo

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magiefish · 5 years

Text

The Ink Demonth Day 21-Rituals

(WARNING: Contains vauge period typical racism and sexism. And sort of body horror.)

Porter MacGibbon had not had a very good day so far. It was summer, so he was boiling up, and a deadline was peering it’s ugly head around the corner. Lambert had been making them work twice as hard and that incompetent janitor had spilt ink all over his frames. He was in the process of redrawing them, hunched over and teeth gritted. He barely noticed the door opening and closing.

“Mr MacGibbon”, A sharp voice cut into his ears.

He laid down his pen and moved his chair to face the person in question.

“Ah, Albert,'' He said without an ounce of warmth, “What are you doing here today? Shouldn’t you be making a ruckus with those pipes downstairs?”

Albert narrowed his eyes and adjusted his GENT branded cap.

“Mr Drew wants to see you after work.”, Porter’s eyes practically bulged out of their sockets at what he said. Albert smirked and continued, “You’re expected to be in Administration at 9:20. Don’t be late.”

He left the office without saying another word. Porter turned back to his work in a daze. Mr Drew wanted to see him after work? Why? He couldn’t tell if this was a good or bad thing. Mr Drew was known for being exceptionally weird. He had only seen him around, but his presence was intimidating enough. What if he had to speak to him? More sweat dripped down his face. He shook the thoughts from his head. He wouldn’t get fired. The studio needed animators. All he had to do was go meet him, talk, then go home to Daisy. Simple. And with that thought, he breathed a sigh of relief and continued drawing.

——

Daisy Adiele was sitting in the corner while the men did all the work. As usual. They were attempting to make some sounds with a big box while she sat at a desk playing Secretary. Not like anyone ever needed a secretary in Sound Design. But, it was pleasant enough. She was close to Porter and the paper stash so she could entertain herself at the very least. She perked us at footsteps passing the door before sinking back down again. She continued to scribble on her piece of paper until one of the men told her stop because it would apparently ruin the sound. It was at this point that Daisy had had enough. She got up, making her chair scrape as noisily as possible along the ground and ran from the room before anyone could stop her. She speed walked toward the lift. All she wanted to do was go to the roof. It was sunny and cool and free on the roof, unlike these claustrophobic halls. She was just about to press the button, when the doors slid open. It was as if they had sensed her presence. And standing in the lift, body as stiff as a plank of yellowed wood, was Murray Hill. Saffron had only heard stories of this man but she could tell it was him. Scruffy hair, dark shadows and a generally uncomfortable vibe. He looked her up and down and gave her a way too wide smile.

“Ah, Adiele, just who I wanted to see.”

Daisy wanted nothing more than to shove past him and get in the lift but knew it wouldn’t end well. So, years of pretend smiling at men finally came in handy.

“Why would you want to see me Mr Hill? If I recall, you’re busy building the new machine downstairs.”

“Ah, well my dear, Mr Lawrence wants to see you in Administration after work.”

She had often met with him to pass messages to Sound Design but this was different. They always met in his office, and he wasn’t someone to trudge down multiple levels just to talk. Plus, why send Murray with the message? She was pretty sure they only ever interacted to yell about noise levels. Something about it was just...off. Her eyes looked puzzled but she continued to smile.

“What for?”, She asked, feigning naivety.

Murray paused. Just for a second, but it was enough to tell he was lying through his teeth with what he said next.

“He’s decided his office is too cluttered. People coming in and out all day, can’t be good for conversations”, He patted her on the shoulder before calling back the lift. Daisy decided this would be a good time to run to the stairs.

“Oh, and Miss Adiele.”, She turned around to face him once more, “Avoiding this meeting will result in immediate termination.”

The lift doors closed and he vanished. Daisy swallowed, attempting to rid herself of the lump in her throat. She knew it was silly, but she somehow thought that termination didn’t mean losing her job.

——

Gwendolyn Dynan wandered through the lowest floor in the studio. It was exceptionally cold, colder than her ramshackle apartment in February, despite the harsh July sun on the surface. She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. The sooner she got this meeting with Mr Connor over, the sooner she could get warm. She didn’t even get why she was down here. When Toy Department construction became relevant she was sure the higher ups would prefer to talk to Shawn, the mechanic (and white male) of the two. But she wouldn’t miss an opportunity to have some control over something. The journey seemed endless and her watch told her she only had 3 more minutes to reach Administration. She picked up the pace. She had almost reached Administration when a hand gripped her shoulder.

She spun around to see a familiar face, “Albert, I swear to god if this is to harass me about that snooker rematch-“

Albert Mendleman quickly hushed her, looking around with wide fearful eyes.

“(No Cutouts) Gwen I need you to leave. Now.”

He pushed her towards the door she came through, only for her to step back to where she was.

“Why?”

“Look, you’re in danger, Ok?”

“What kind of danger?”

“I can’t say too much…”, He looked around again and leaned forward, “The pipes have ears”, He whispered.

Gwen raised an eyebrow, “Um, do you need to go to the infirmary? I know Mr Drew doesn’t think mental illness counts but I’m pretty sure Dr Rosebush will check-“

“This isn’t mental illness, this is life or death!!”, He pinched his nose before continuing, “I like you, Ok? You’re a good person and you don't deserve to die. Just leave. Leave this floor, leave the studio, leave the establishment!”

“No Albert, if you don’t give me a solid reason why-I won’t leave! Do you know how hard it is to get a job round here when you look like me? It’s near impossible!! I don’t care what you say, I’m going to Administration. And if there is some ‘life or death’ thing I’ll run in the opposite direction.”

And walked past him, not listening to a single word of Albert’s desperate babbling.

——

The place was deathly silent. Albert seemed to have left her alone now. When she looked over her shoulder he wasn’t peering round the corner like a creep. She breathed a sigh of relief before frowning. The door was closed. All the doors were closed except for one. She looked about for a sign of life. No one. She shivered. The cold was getting to her again. She shuffled over to the door, which was open just a crack. The air felt heavy and tense. Every breath seemed to clog her lungs. She closed her eyes and pushed it open.

She opened her eyes. The cold pierced her soul, every bone in her body turning to ice. There was blood all over the floor. Candles lay all around the platform. Chunks of something disgusting floated on the top of an ink pool. It looked like chunks of flesh made with solidified ink, shining in the light like disgusting gifts at a shrine. Ink stained clothes lay in the chunks. A dress. A shirt. Trousers. A hat. Every item of clothing except shoes. The chemical and metallic smells seeped into her nose, making her throat close up. She covered her mouth in fear she might vomit. She needed to run, but her legs felt too weak to support her, and her head too nauseated to maintain balance. She started to gag, the candles flickered making her feel dizzy, the smells overwhelmed her, her eyes started to water, the world fell apart-

A pain erupted in her back. Something wet spread along her shirt. She felt whatever was jammed into her spine getting pulled out the pain worsening. She was in too much shock to scream. Gwendolyn felt arms grab her and drag her to the pool, shoes trailing through the blood. She didn’t fight. She already knew her time was up. She was held inches above the surface of the ink. The surface bubbled, like it was a hungry beast expecting a meal to tear to shreds. Someone patted her head as she felt the life leaving her body.

“Don’t worry.”, Joey Drew whispered into her ear, “You’re going to make a nice sacrifice.”

And the black beast swallowed her whole.

#the ink demonth #bendy and the ink machine #body horror #I guess?#oc’s #very random ocs #they basically just exist to be killed #but then again basically everyone in the game does #does this have anything to do with the prompt?#period typical racism & sexism

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Thirty-Seven: Red Lines ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Itachi, Uchiha Fugaku, Uchiha Mikoto ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: At The Beginning ] [ AO3 Link ]

They’ve been traveling all day.

With tired feet, Sasuke’s up on his brother’s back, dozing as his clan migrates south. Quick and quiet. Hopefully unseen. Such a large force, of course, isn’t hard to notice...but most of them are shinobi. Hopping through the branches of this landscape’s tall trees, they’re swift and silent as they make their way from their last encampment.

After the battle days prior...it’s no longer safe.

So, once again, the Uchiha are on the move.

Nearing evening, they finally find a place to settle for the night. A rolling hill comes to an abrupt stop, dropping into an inwardly-curved cliff. Below, a shallow pool of fresh water from a natural spring feeds out into a stream.

Fugaku considers the area, kinsmen watching him wordlessly. “...here. Fill your water skins, and put down bedrolls in the cave.”

Hopefully anyone after them will miss such a spot.

Rousing as subtle noises sound with the setup of camp, Sasuke rubs at his eyes. “Aniki…?”

Itachi manages a weary smile as he sets his brother down. “We’re calling it a night. Hungry? Thirsty?”

The young Uchiha just nods, prompting Itachi to begin caring for his needs. A waterskin is handed over, Sasuke sipping it as his brother tends to their section of the camp. Their mother is busy checking on the other vulnerable members of the clan: the young, old, sick, and injured. Fugaku, on the other hand, talks lowly with his top warriors, faces all drawn with tension and unease.

Sasuke watches before Itachi draws his gaze again. “Here - eat this.”

Accepting a nori-wrapped onigiri, Sasuke carefully munches every grain of rice before sitting beside his brother. Their bedrolls are toward the rear of the shallow cave. Any assailants would have to go through everyone else first to get to them.

“Aniki, is this our new home?”

“For now,” Itachi replies evasively. “You know we have to move often as the Senju battle us.”

Sasuke’s head bows. “I know…”

“Someday, Sasuke...we’ll have a real home. A house, with a roof and a floor, and walls. We can start a garden, and maybe get you a dog.”

That perks the boy up. “Really?”

“...someday.”

It’s late before their parents return, Sasuke already asleep. Itachi watches his father with sharp black eyes as he unfurls a map.

“...here,” he murmurs, a calloused finger pointing to a dense cluster of foliage marked on the parchment. “This is our current position.” His mouth sets into a grim line. “...we’re not as far as I’d like, but this place is hard to spot from a distance from the direction we came. Gods willing, we’ll be lucky and go unnoticed for now.”

“Where will we go next?” the elder son asks quietly

“I’ve got scouts out checking our perimeter, and seeing what other clans might be nearby. I’ll plot out their positions come morning, and...we’ll go from there.”

Itachi just nods solemnly.

“Itachi dear, you should get some sleep,” Mikoto chides gently. “We’ll have a long day ahead of us. And you’ll need to keep both eyes on your brother.”

“Hai.”

Curling around his little brother, Itachi watches him for a time before managing to slip into sleep.

Morning, as always, comes early. And it’s Sasuke who rouses first for once. Wriggling out of his sleeping brother’s grip, he finds Fugaku already awake. Seated with a map atop his lap, he’s carefully tracing lines atop it, referring quite heavily to other parchment at his side. A glance shows reports from the previous night’s scouts. Red ink outlines certain sections of the map.

Gingerly sitting beside his father, Sasuke builds the courage to ask, “What are those red lines…?”

Giving Sasuke a glance, Fugaku takes a moment to respond, finishing a line. “These...are marks that show me where our enemies are camped. None of us are to go there, Sasuke.”

“Not even you?”

“No, not even me. We must work our way around them, lest we invite more fighting.”

“Are they Senju…?” he asks quietly, both fear and awe in his tone.

“No. There are many more clans than just us, and the Senju,” Fugaku clarifies. “The Inuzuka, Akimichi, Nara, Hyūga, Sarutobi...and more.”

“Are they all bad guys?”

After a small hitch of breath, his father sighs. “...no. There really is no good or bad when it comes to clans, my son. We are all simply competing for the same things. Food, water, land...and competition can make people do terrible things in order to secure those things. Even kill.”

Sasuke wilts a bit. “Oh…”

“Someday...I hope we will find a land to call our own, with no more fighting.” There’s a bone-deep exhaustion in Fugaku’s eyes. “...I tire of losing our people to these squabbles. Someday...I hope there will be peace.”

Someday, someday...it’s a word everyone uses so often. But when will it be someday, Sasuke can’t help but wonder.

“So, be sure to stick close to camp,” Fugaku then adds, drawing his son’s gaze back to his face. “We don’t want to wander and stumble into trouble. Understand?”

“Hai.”

The Uchiha linger in their encampment for nearly a week. By then, Sasuke has the entire layout memorized, including the outlying areas where he barely dares to tread. His father’s words have made him cautious.

But even caution can’t be outweighed by a child’s curiosity.

Having been learning to use a bow with his brother, Sasuke keeps his and a quiver on his person whenever he’s awake. He also carries a single kunai for protection, but he’s too young yet to make much use of many standard shinobi tools. Instead, he relies mostly on his brother to keep him safe. But Itachi has been busy helping their father, and Sasuke patrols the camp alone.

That is...until he hears a noise in the bushes…!

Perking up, he stares, trying to spot whatever it is. Likely just a tanuki, or maybe some birds. But, wanting to be sure, Sasuke glances back to camp before carefully moving after it.

...there it goes! Wriggling through the underbrush, whatever it is takes off at full speed!

Immediately losing all other thought to the thrill of a chase, Sasuke brightens and goes after it. Back and forth it winds - maybe it’s a hare? - as they leave the Uchiha in the distance. Arrow nocked and eyes bright, Sasuke follows until they reach a clearing, and his foe stumbles out into the open.

A fox!

Pulling up his bow and drawing the string, Sasuke takes aim. But before he can shoot, a rock flies out from another side of the clearing, startling the winded creature into one last dash into more cover.

“Aww…!” Releasing the tension and pouting, Sasuke watches it go, realizing it’s a futile chase. But then he happens to think...who - or what - threw that rock…?

Looking to the proper direction, he sets his jaw, redrawing his bow. “Who’s there?”

Silence. Then a rustle. “P-please...don’t shoot…!”

A voice! It sounds like a girl - pretty young, too. Maybe his age? “Show yourself!”

Another long pause, then the foliage shifts, and...out creeps a child. Dressed in a plain lilac yukata, large pale eyes stare warily, hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I...I don’t m-mean you any harm!”

Slowly, Sasuke lowers his bow. Those eyes...he knows about them. His own clan’s distant cousins: she has to be a Hyūga.

Seeing him relax, she does the same. “I...I’m sorry about the fox, but...I didn’t want you to hurt it.”

“...s’okay,” Sasuke mumbles. He didn’t need to kill it - they have plenty of supplies. These woods are plentiful.

“Um...m-my name is Hinata! Who are - w-who are you?”

“...Sasuke.” They both avoid last names, though there’s little mistaking what she is by her appearance. “What are you doing out here?”

“Oh...I was l-looking for...for flowers.”

“Flowers…?” His nose wrinkles. “Isn’t that a silly thing to wander off alone for?”

“W-well, you were chasing a fox!”

“Cuz I thought it was a bad guy too close to our camp!”

As soon as he says it, Sasuke realizes that was a mistake. He shouldn’t reveal that they’re nearby…!

“Oh...that’s fair.”

“You...you can’t tell anyone you saw me!” he insists.

Hinata balks. “I-I won’t!”

“Promise?”

“Yes, I promise!”

He eyes her for a moment, seeing her frightened posture. “...good.”

Silence falls for a time...and then a voice calls in the distance. “Hinata-sama!”

Gasping and looking back, she hesitates. “I...I-I have to go!”

“But -?”

“I won’t tell!” Digging through the bushes, Hinata brings out a small basket full of blooms. “Go, before someone s-sees you!”

Sasuke lingers a moment longer, not sure he can trust her. But she’s already making to jog back the way she came.

Before she leaves, however, she comes to a stop, turning and closing the gap even as Sasuke flinches. “Here!”

Fumbling, he manages to accept a flower. Pure white in color, it’s one he’s never seen before...not that he’s ever paid flowers any attention.

“Go!” Hinata hushes, retreating and calling out to the voice.

Broken from his confusion, Sasuke does just that, running all the way back to camp.

Slowing to a jog, he glances around, hoping no one notices his return. Thankfully no one notes his presence...or the previous lack thereof. Making his way to his bedroll, Sasuke examines his flower, a brow perked. Why did she give him a flower…?

“Oh, where did you find that?”

Flinching, Sasuke turns to see his mother. “...uh…”

“That’s a freesia,” Mikoto explains, kneeling beside her son. “It’s a flower that signifies trust!”

“A flower has a meaning…?”

“Oh, yes...it’s a very important language,” she replies. “Flowers are a way to communicate without words. Kunoichi use them to pass messages without others knowing!”

Considering that, Sasuke looks to his flower. Trust, huh…?

“Now, go wash up, ne? Dinner is almost ready. Your father and brother should be back soon.”

“Hai.” Removing his gear, Sasuke eventually tucks the bloom into his bedroll.

Maybe he’ll see her again someday...Hyūga Hinata.

Late, tired, blegh @~@ A Warring States era AU! One I hardly ever get to write. I really like the concept of the more "modern" characters being put back into that time period, and how they'd face the challenges of that era. Buuut anyway, I'm VERY tired, so...that's all for now lol - thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #uchiha itachi #uchiha fugaku #uchiha mikoto #at the beginning [ canon verse ]#365daysofsasuhina

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everlarkchristmasgifts · 6 years

Text

Something Suspiciously Like Hope

Written for Day 2 - Secret Santa Exchanges.

Unbeta’d. Rated T for language. Enjoy :)

Peeta takes the slip of paper from his pocket and stares at the name, written in her small, careful cursive. Again. As if the writing changed from the last time he read it.

Katniss Everdeen.

The gods of Random Name Drawing have a sick sense of humour, that’s for sure.

God, what if she drew his name, too? Then what would he do? He fights back a shudder — what are the odds of that happening? — and tosses the paper in a nearby bin. It’s not like he’s ever going to forget it, anyway.

He takes stock of his very limited options as he mixes up another batch of dough for the bakery’s famous Christmas shortbreads. He can’t get her anything too impersonal. That just seems… rude. Not to mention, a gigantic lie. They’ve never been friends — hell, the slip of paper with her name on it is about the entirety of their exchanges over the years — but they’ve been in the same classes since kindergarten, so that should count for something, shouldn’t it?

But on the other hand, he can’t get her anything too… not impersonal, either. Nothing that could out the feelings he’s carried around like a backpack full of bricks for over a decade. That would be… not a gigantic lie. But also, his absolute worst nightmare come true.

He should have asked to redraw his Secret Santa when he had the chance. Knowing Ms. Trinket, though, she never would have allowed it.

There’s a tiny sliver of grey area that he can work with here. What’s the happy middle between a five-dollar café gift-card and a dozen long-stemmed red roses? Is baking her a cake from scratch too heartfelt, or just the right amount of caring and not-caring?

I put together this cake just for you, but I also work in a bakery and make literally thousands of cakes just like this one in a week, so don’t feel too special.

“Why does this have to be so hard?” he mutters to himself.

“Surely not the dough, son? You could make those cookies blindfolded by now.”

Peeta jumps maybe three feet in the air. He’d almost forgotten his father was still in here, too.

“Not the dough,” he says, shaking his head.

“What, then?” his father prods.

Peeta sighs, but there’s never been any point lying. His crush on Katniss Everdeen has been his worst-kept secret since he was five and saw her for the first time, after which he declared to everyone in earshot that he would marry her someday. If Katniss ever heard, she’s been too polite to say anything.

“A Secret Santa exchange at school. I drew Katniss.”

His father goes quiet for a minute, then asks, “Why’s that so hard?”

“What do you mean, why’s that so hard?” Peeta exclaims. “What am I supposed to do?”

His father shrugs. “I guess that depends on the sort of impression you want to make.” He dusts off his flour-covered hands and crosses his arms. “Do you really want to go about your last year at school without ever having been honest with her? Could you live with that?”

“I think I could live with it,” Peeta whispers without hesitation. “But I think I’d regret it every day, too.”

His father smiles. “Then I guess that’s your answer.”

“So, what do I give her?”

The smile spreads into a grin. “Something unforgettable.”

Peeta says nothing. Just furrows his brows and turns back to his dough, rolls it out into a thin sheet.

He has an idea. More like a sapling of an idea, really. A weedy little sapling struggling to break up into the light. It’s a ridiculous idea given that they only have until the end of the week to exchange their gifts, but he thinks he can do it. He’s got everything he needs back home, so the twenty-dollar price limit isn’t going to be an issue (or does that just make him look cheap?) and what’s more… if he plays his cards right, it will be unforgettable.

Peeta finishes his shift with a smile on his face.

XXX

The canvas barely fits inside his beat-up Corolla.

Never mind ‘unforgettable’. She’ll be lucky to ever forget him after this. The guy who made her carry a massive canvas all through the halls with her. Less of a ‘something to remember me by’, and more of a gigantic ‘screw you.’

He parks in his usual spot at school and collapses against the steering wheel. He’s gotten a collective ten hours of sleep this past week working on the damn thing, recreating the woods which border District 12 in wrenching, painstaking detail, but it’s worth it. It has to be.

A fist raps against his window. Peeta jumps high enough to hit his head on the car’s felt ceiling.

“Hey! Is that it?”

Without waiting for a reply, Finnick swings to the other side and settles himself in the passenger seat. He twists towards the back and lets out a low whistle.

“Dude. It’s huge.”

“I couldn’t do it with anything smaller,” Peeta mutters.

“Sure isn’t going to be a secret now.”

Peeta shakes his head and gets out of the car. “I never said it was going to be.”

“So… you’re going for it?” Finnick jumps out and slams the door shut. “You’re actually gonna do it?”

Peeta sucks in a deep, sharply cold breath. “I think I… maybe?”

“Peeta!” Finnick punches his shoulder. “Seriously, man? That’s awesome.”

Peeta snorts. “Yeah. Two guesses how it’ll end, though.”

“You still reckon she’ll say no?”

“I just don’t see why she’d say yes.”

“You know, Annie says she’s real nice.”

“So? I’m not after a pity date, Finn. I just… I know she’ll like this. That’s all.”

“Yeah, she will. You wanna know what I got my Secret Santa? A box of sugar cubes.”

He almost laughs. “Seriously? Why?”

“Well under the twenty-buck limit, and ‘cause Clove Andersen could stand to be a whole lot sweeter, don’t you think?”

Peeta snorts. “When she decks you, and she absolutely will, don’t expect me to step in and save the day.”

“All you’d have to do is flash that smile and she’d be off me and all over you.”

“Yeah, not really the image I’m going for right now.” Peeta pulls in another deep breath, sets a hand on the car’s roof, and nods to himself. “So, you going to help me bring this thing in or what?”

XXX

His own Secret Santa gift — from Madge, mercifully, a pair of thick, silly, reindeer-print socks — had been front and centre at the top of the pile in Ms. Trinket’s room. At the end of class, he grabbed it and bolted, the tips of his ears burning as he caught Katniss out the corner of his eye, approaching her massive gift, propped up at the back and taking up damn near half the wall, with a frown on her face. He considered for all of a nanosecond staying and waiting for her to unwrap it, just to see her face when she saw it. But that same crippling self-doubt that always seemed to afflict him around Katniss squeezed at his chest and he just… couldn’t.

God, he’s such a loser.

He plops down on a damp bench right on the far edge of the school, far enough away that the chatter and laughter from everyone else is little more than a distant echo. The cold air dusting past his face brings his thoughts into more clarity. He should have seen this coming a mile off. It happens every single time. He’s never been able to string more than five words together in Katniss’ presence; why would today be any different? Combine that with a giant, what-the-fuck of a gift, and it’s a damn wonder he was able to walk through the school gates at all this morning.

The phone in his pocket vibrates with texts he’s not sure he wants to see. Probably just Finn asking how it all went. Maybe one from his dad, too. Peeta groans and fists his hair. His own damn fault for telling everybody.

“Peeta?” a soft, smoky voice whispers behind him.

He jumps about ten feet in the air and spins to face his assailant. Katniss Everdeen, her hands tucked into the pockets of her patchy coat, staring at him with eyes as grey as the storm clouds above. An omen or not, he’s not sure.

“Katniss,” he breathes.

She smiles, the barest quirk of her lips. “I wasn’t sure you knew my name. I guess… I guess that was wrong.”

His cheeks flush as he sets himself back down on the bench. “I’ve always known who you are.”

“I’m starting to get that, yeah.” She perches herself on the bench beside him, even though there’s not a whole lot of room for them to share. Even through his thick coat, the warmth Katniss radiates is enough to make him feel like his blood is boiling.

“It’s incredible,” she blurts out before he can say anything. “I mean, I knew you were good — I think you’ve got paintings hanging in every corridor in there — but that painting is… amazing, Peeta. Really.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he murmurs.

She sets a warm hand on his forearm. The contact is like lightning beneath his skin, but it anchors him, too; this moment is real. He’s not dreaming it. And it’s fucking amazing.

“I love it,” she tells him, low and deliberate. “Thank you, Peeta.”

He clears his throat. “You’re welcome.”

She lets her arm fall from his, and he misses the warmth all at once. “I kinda feel bad about what I got my Secret Santa now, though.”

“Who’d you have?” he asks.

“Delly.”

He barks out a laugh. “What did you get her?”

“A fluffy pom-pom keychain shaped like an owl. Prim picked it out. I had no idea what to get her.”

“I can tell you with absolute certainty that Delly loved it.”

She smirks. “Oh, I know she did. She jumped me right in the hallway as we were leaving and hugged me.”

Peeta smiles. “That sounds about right.”

A couple from the year below them walk by, hand-in-hand. As if by some unspoken agreement, Peeta and Katniss stay silent, their gazes trained on the ground, until the pair pass by.

When he looks up again, their faces are much closer together than they were before — or maybe they were always this close? Katniss’ cheeks are a bright, glowing pink, and she’s looking everywhere but his face.

“We should… uh, meet up, maybe?” she says, all fractured, and he thinks it fractures something in his head, too, because she cannot possibly be saying what he thinks she might be saying. “Some day during the break? I could, um… maybe show you the woods when it’s snowing, and you could paint or something? If that’s even something you wanted to see, I don’t even know if you —”

He cuts her off before she can ramble anymore, because even though it’s completely, utterly adorable, he’ll be damned if he lets her talk herself out of this now. “I’d love to come to the woods with you, Katniss,” he says, leaving no room for anything else.

“Good!” she says, a little too loudly, but Peeta’s not sure anything could beat the pounding of his heart for volume right now. She clears her throat and says, “That’s… good.”

“Yeah… good.” Damn, he’s eloquent.

“How’s Boxing Day for you?”

“Yeah… good,” he says again. Katniss lets out a tiny chuckle, one that he swears makes his heart skip a beat.

A bell goes off somewhere… the school, maybe? He’s got no way of knowing, or caring. All he gives a shit about right now is Katniss Everdeen, right in front of him, so close he could maybe kiss her if he didn’t think that would be kind of weird. Before he can move, Katniss is shouldering her bag and making her way back towards the building.

“Merry Christmas, Peeta,” she whispers, a real smile, however tiny, tipping her lips now as she walks away.

He grins what he’s sure is the dopiest, happiest grin the entire world and calls back, “Merry Christmas, Katniss.” For the first time in forever, the self-doubt doesn’t even enter his head.

In its place now is something suspiciously like hope.

#everlark #everlarkchristmasgifts #day two: secret santa exchanges #by ally147writes #fan fic #2018 #submission

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ddesign8or · 5 years

Text

Masterpiece

Entry#70 Prompt from @alexprompts

I was young when it happened, too little to grasp the idea of what actually was going on. It started when men with rifles, which the funny old man in my neighborhood told me that he used to own one of those before they confiscated it, marching down our neighborhoods. I found them fascinating and I kept mimicking them every time they came by, but my parents didn't like them.

One early morning, I woke up in a loud siren filling all corners of our neighborhood. Men with rifles busted to our home and hastily demanded to pack Our things. I was scared when the man started yelling, but my Mom assured me that everything would be alright, which I hope it was. My Mom took me by the hand as we followed Dad outside. I peeked behind my Dad and saw my neighbors and friends lining up in the middle of the ground. A lot of big trucks came, we climbed there and they took us away. I asked my mom where they were taking us, but my Mom was just shaking her head. I could see her worried face and felt her trembling hands. I knew something wasn't right.

We arrived to the place where it was surrounded by long fences and a lot of men with rifles kept walking back and forth. When we got there I saw some wooden slumped houses. The Men have taken my Dad and other Men from women. My Mom started crying, grasping my Dad's hand, not letting him go. I thought my Mom was just acting silly. I just heard the man that we'll be together soon.

I didn't know how long we stayed there maybe months or years. I wasn't sure. I wasn't good at tracking on dates even I was just seven. There were other children liked me or older, twelve or thirteen, maybe and my friends were also there too. It was fun to have them. We kept on playing all afternoon after work and what we really liked to do was to draw on the pavement, we recently stopped playing It, and hide and seek after a man with a rifle yelled at us.

We sometimes quietly snitched to their building and took some colored chalks which I also traded with potatoes to other children. It was my treasure and I always made sure it kept hidden from other children who wanted to steal it, except with my friends. We were like a group of a hood who were always together protecting each other. After we’re done, we stared for hours on our drawings, mesmerized on what we did on the pavement. It was a work of art, but sadly we needed to redraw after it faded or after our masterpiece was washed by the rain which it always made me sad.

In our neighborhood, there were thirty children all in all which I could easily remember because we've been together for a while. I might not good with dates, but I know how to count. I noticed the children were getting fewer. At first, it was just one, then after a few months, five, next ten, and then another month was five. Every time children went missing, their mothers started wailing.It was truly horrible.That's the time my Mom hid me and never letting me go out. Until, one day my Mom never went back and I hadn't seen my friends for a while. Even though, I still kept hiding, obeying my Mom commands.

Then my stomach growled loudly, I was starving waiting for her and decided to sneak out and looked for food. Unfortunately, a man with a rifle found and took me. I was struggling and wriggling, trying to get out from his painful gripped. He forcefully took me to a chamber where I saw my friends. The man let me go and his hand formed bruises on my weak arms. I took my friend's hand as we trailed other men and children to the chamber. I told my friend where we’re going. My friend told me they were taking us to a bath. My frightened body washed away as I was enthusiastically wanted to take a decent bath at last, though still wonder if we could fit in the chamber.

We went inside and a man with a mask closed the door behind us. Then, a fouled stench started to overwhelm the surroundings. I thought it was just normal. I looked around, then, at my friend and saw her lying on the floor. I tried to shake her off, but she wasn't moving. I cough very badly and I noticed blood dripping from my nose. I wiped my mouth and saw a blood stain on my sleeve. My eyes turned blurry and lost my balanced. I struggled to breathe as I focused on the door, hoping My Mom or Dad would get me. After a while I saw an obscure light from the door, then my eyes felt so heavy and shut down

It's been a hundred centuries after another war broke out. People never learned from previous war, even though, I'm glad they're still people willing to save others and bring peace. I also never learned what the name of the man who saved me, but I owed him my life. Unfortunately, all my friends and children in the camp except me, who miraculously survived, were all dead.

I also figured out that my Mom died, but good thing my Dad was alive. I was too devastated, but my Mom also gave me strength to continue living, to bring peace and justice to people who were caught in the middle of the conflict.

I've gone back to the ruined camp, thinking to find something and there it was the chalks I hid for a long time and the smudge masterpiece which withstand the odds.

#alexprompts #alexpromptschalkoutline #writeblogging #writing prompt #writing #story writing #writeblr #write #writingprompt #writing ideas #short story #story #heartwarming #war #peace #love

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comingcalum · 6 years

Text

masterpiece - C.H.

art student!calum decides to draw a masterpiece

word count: 2.2k / Third person (Calum x Amelia)

Amelia was in a world of her own as the lecturer in front of her rambled on about some building in the middle of Rome. A spare blue pen was tucked behind her ear, and she chewed on the end of her pencil as she stared at the half-completed drawing in her notebook. She pursed her lips and squinted at the page, trying to pinpoint why it didn’t look like she had imagined it to. The hair! It just wasn’t sitting right on her face. She poked her tongue out between her lips in concentration while she erased it, redrawing it until she was satisfied. She tried to make a masterpiece every time the lead touched the page, but some days it didn’t come as easily.

Meanwhile, a few rows behind her, a boy - Calum was his name - was also drawing his own masterpiece. He was erasing and redrawing the lines so frequently that the people a few spaces away from him were getting annoyed at the sound. Nevertheless, he persisted. He had to get this drawing perfect, for no other reason than the fact that he was a perfectionist. It was ironic really, the fact that he chose to be an artist with such a meticulous personality. The boy beside him - Luke - let out a low groan and turned to face Calum. He stopped what he was doing and looked at him, expecting a conversation to ensue.

“This class is so boring, I don’t know how you do it dude,” Luke whispered, scratching his stubble.

Calum looked down at the drawing in front of him and then back at Luke. “I don’t, I just draw,” He chuckled, returning his attention to the sketch. He paid special attention to the sharpness of the jawline.

“I don’t know why you don’t just tell her,” Luke said again and Calum looked up to meet his tired eyes. There was a small smile dancing on Luke’s lips and Calum just rolled his eyes.

“It’s not that simple,”

“Except it is,” He insisted. “All you have to do is go up to her and be like… Hey Amelia, you’re fucking gorgeous and I’d love to fuck your brains out,”

Calum’s eyes widened and he looked around the room sheepishly to make sure no one could hear their conversation. A few eyes were darting their way and he hoped no one had heard about his little crush. The last thing he needed was for her to find out from someone else, it would be like high school all over again, and he definitely didn’t want that.

“Shut up, she’s so much more than that…,” He shook his head and began sketching her again.

“So you’re just going to draw her in your notebook until she is literally embedded into your brain?,” Luke asked.

“I gues-”

“Luke! Calum! Do you have something you would like to say?” The lecturer shouted, and both Calum and Luke sat there, mouths hanging open. Calum slammed his notebook shut before anyone could see what was inside.

Amelia jumped at the sudden interruption and turned around to look at the two boys causing the disturbance. She stares at Calum and Luke, mouths hanging open, and chuckles softly to herself as she waits for them to answer. Calum’s eyes meet hers and his breath catches in his throat, a blush rising to his cheeks. She just smiles at him, her head resting on her hand. He likes the way her hair looks today, the wild red waves tucked behind her ear with a stray hair resting on her temple. He makes sure to take in as much of her as he can, like the way her nose and cheeks are covered in freckles, and how when she smiles at him her dimples appear. In Calum’s eyes, she was the prettiest thing, and he tried to do her justice in his notebook, but he didn’t think it could come close to how beautiful she was in person.

Luke elbows Calum in the ribs and he finally finds the courage to speak. “Uh, no sir, sorry,” He clears his throat and the lecturer nods, returning to speaking moments later. Amelia turns back around and continues her drawing.

“Good one, idiot,” Calum glares at Luke and he just shrugs, attempting to focus on the lecture without much luck. Despite the embarrassment, he couldn’t shake the image of Amelia burnt into his mind.

Calum looked at his watch, wondering when the lecture was going to be over. 12:47 p.m. “Shit,” He mutters under his breath. Luke looks at him with his eyebrows raised, watching Calum turn from embarrassed to stressed in a matter of seconds. He begins frantically packing his belongings away, stuffing them into his bag without much care. The lecturer’s annoyance is evident, but he’s glad to see the boy leaving.

“Dude, I gotta go sorry,” He whispers to Luke, giving him a pat on the back as he climbs over the front of the table. He jogs down the stairs and heads to the door. Amelia looks up and watches him hurry toward the door, but returns her attention to the lecture before the door slams shut.

A few minutes later and the lecture ends, everyone scurrying out as fast as possible to attend their next class for the day. Amelia is the last one to leave, not in any rush as she had the next hour free. She finishes up the last touches of her sketch and smiles to herself, happy with how the drawing turned out as it wasn’t her strength. She enjoyed painting much more, and she was much better at it too. She painted from the inside out. All her emotions or struggles were imprinted on the canvases when she painted. The colours, the different shades, lines, textures, they all resembled a little part of how she was feeling. When she wanted to escape the world, she picked up a paintbrush, and that was her escape.

After packing up her belongings, Amelia headed to the door. It was now 1:29 p.m. As she was pushing her earphones in, she noticed a small brown book in the corner of her eye. It was partially hidden behind the rubbish bin near the door, but it wasn’t hidden enough to make her think it was intentionally put there. She picks it up, running her hands over the soft brown leather. The notebook showed some wear in the corners, but there was no name on it anywhere. She wonders how long it’s been sitting there and if it’s missing its owner. She doesn’t want to pry, but she needs to find the owner, so she opens the book and tries to find anything that may help her determine who the book belongs to. There’s a few scribbles on the front page, and she assumed it was the page where they tried to get their pen working. She turns the page, and there’s a few casual doodles, like they were practicing, eyes, hands, and lips were scattered across the paper, but they were so realistic. The person had gotten the shading perfect. She turned the page again, there was a drawing of the moon phases, and she blinked in disbelief, amazed by how well drawn everything had been in this book so far. On the next page, there was writing instead. It read “And you’ll move on, and fall in love with another brain, another soul. And i’ll still be here, waiting,” she felt the words tug at her heartstrings.

The door in front of her flew open and she let out a gasp, leaping in fright as she slammed the book shut and held it against her chest. It was Calum. He froze when he saw Amelia, and then he noticed the book she was holding in her arms. It belonged to him.

“I, uh-,” He stutters, pointing to the book in her arms.

“Oh, this.. This is yours?,” She asks, peeling the book from her chest as she reads the writing on the page again. He nods and scratches the back of his neck, chewing on his lip.

“Do you mind? You’re insanely good,” She smiles at him, waiting for reassurance to carry on flicking through his notebook.

“Thanks, I tend to just draw whatever feels right at the time,” He replies, and Amelia starts turning over the pages again. He awkwardly shuffles to stand beside her, looking at his past artwork with her.

Calum watches her as she admires his artwork. He watches her tuck her hair behind her ear every so often because it tickled her face. She ran her slender fingers over the page occasionally, and he watched her take her bottom lip between her teeth, concentrating on what was in front of her. She looked up at him every so often too, but he looked away - he didn’t want her to catch him staring. The longer he watched her, the more delirious he felt. The deep red freckles against her pale skin was such a nice contrast that he was in awe. When Calum was around her, he wondered how it was possible that he had ever felt sorrow. Her forest green eyes were always soft, willing, as if she was eager to listen to all your problems and help you fix them. And when she smiled - god, that smile - the one where she showed off her perfect teeth as she scrunched her eyes shut and let out a giggle. That smile would be the death of Calum - it left him weak at the knees. All he wanted was to grab her face and kiss those pretty lips of hers.

As he thought about her and how perfectly her hands would fit in his, he remembered something. Something he didn’t want her to know yet. And it was there - in that very book she was holding. He knew it was on the next page, but he didn’t want her to stop - but he did - but he didn’t. He held onto the smallest bit of hope that she would love it, and then turn around and kiss him on those pretty lips of his. But that was a bit of a stretch, he knew that. They had only talked a handful of times, mostly when she needed help with graphic design - something she struggled with. He knew she preferred a paintbrush to a pencil, and a canvas to a computer screen. Yet, he still wanted her to know how he felt, without actually having to say it out loud to her. As she flipped the pages, the portrait of her came into view, and Calum turned to face the other way, not wanting to see her reaction.

“Um-, Yeah… I forgot that was in there,” He lied, his hand running through his hair as he pulled lightly on the curls.

“Calum...I,”

“I know it’s stupid, I’m sorry, it’s just you looked so beautiful and I just had to save that moment without it being creepily on my phone..,” He paused. “I guess it’s still creepy because it’s in my book… but anyway, yeah, you just… you’re just gorgeous, and you felt right at the time, IT-it felt right at the uh.. time,”

Calum questioned whether he had really just said that out loud. He cringed internally when he realised he had, and he tried to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t in a dream. Amelia noticed and laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Calum, no, it’s great, it looks just like me, except better,” She chuckled, not tearing her eyes from the drawing of her. It was almost as if it was a photo. Every small detail about her was apparent on the page - the septum piercing, the one freckle that kissed her ear lobe, the freckle under her eye- everything. Even the tip of her tongue poking out between her lips was drawn, and she laughed, somewhat embarrassed at her concentration face. She was flattered, and she could feel her heart racing at the thought a boy like Calum would choose her as his subject. Underneath it, she was built from fire was written in cursive. She smiled at the comment, and remembered how her mother had always told her she didn’t have red hair for nothing.

“That’s not possible,” He whispered, and Amelia looked up at him. Her lips curled into a small smile, and Calum watched her carefully. She closed the book after that and handed it back to him. He stuffed it into his bag, careful to make sure it’s not going to fall out this time.

“Well, I better go, I have class in…,” She looked at her watch. 1:43 p.m. “Seventeen minutes,”

As her hand wrapped around the door handle, she turned around to give him another smile, waiting to see if he had anything to say. He did.

“Actually, Mel-” His eyes widened at the nickname that had just rolled off his tongue, and she giggled at his reaction.

“It’s fine, you can call me Mel,” She replied.

“Great, okay… Mel, did you want to go get a bite to eat after your class? I have the rest of the afternoon free,” He asks, scratching the back of his neck. Amelia began to notice he did this when he was nervous.

“That would be lovely,”

“I’ll see you outside…,”

“L block, at 3 p.m.,” And with that, Amelia disappeared out of sight.

Calum looked around to make sure no one was there, and then fist pumped the air, grabbing his phone out of his pocket to text Luke about what had just happened.

Well, I thought this was a really cute concept. I based it off an au :) Hope ya liked it. (Tbh, I think it could be improved a lil but it’s fine for now)

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adi-paws · 6 years

Photo

Hello! This is my entry for Day 1 of the Kolivance AU Event, I decided on a Role Swap AU. I usually just draw, but I decided I’d like to explain a bit the ideas I had behind this entry, which is a redraw of one of my favourite scenes in Voltron!

(Honestly I was so nervous that I kinda forgot the episode lol)

Hope you enjoy! @kolivance

Lancir is the son of a rebel galra who gave her life opposing Zarkon’s tirany. Her dream of a peaceful galran empire inspired him to unite with fellow rebels and create a base of operations against the galra. Thus the Blade of Marmora has been born with Lancir as its leader. Due to unforseen betrayals and failed missions, Lancir had no choice but to hide the Blade from the Universe. He had to take many risks and he mourned the loss of many of his subordinates, but he couldn’t give up. So Lancir locked his heart away, he hid his kindness and his joy, he became the stoic leader of the Blades, he forced a strict training regimen and he adopted new codes that would hopefully benefit the organization. All in hopes of helping his men survive to see another day and maybe, one day, getting rid of Zarkon for good.

Kolivan was a teacher at Galaxy Garrison, strict, but fair. He enjoyed guiding the new generations and often got really close to his students because he was willing to listen to them, a thing rarely seen at the Garrison. One night he found 2 students (Hunk and Pidge) on the roof of the centre past curfew. He questioned them, but before he could do something about their insubordonation, the alarm started. With no other choice, Kolivan ended up asisting the two cadets and the new addition, Keith (a former student), in saving Shiro, who has been missing after the failure of the Kerberos mission. With so many questions unanswered, the confusion grew when Keith showed them his researsh and eventually the place where they found the Blue Lion. Imagine his surprise when Kolivan realized he was the one the lion chose as her pilot. Both honoured and terrified, the (now former) teacher flew them to what they’ll later learn is a castle on planet Arus, the place where their weird space adventure begins.

Time skip, after they’ve met the Blades. Here goes nothing!

“Don’t forget about the Blade of Marmora!”, said Kolivan as he smiled at the aliens.

Lancir stared at him blankly, but on the inside he was intrigued. This human, so much smaller than him, completely ignored their galran status and just straight up credited them for the rescue. This wouldn’t be the first time the snow haired earthling sided with them or showed them compassion. It confused Lancir. He wasn’t used to anyone looking past their galra heritage. He was almost suspecting foul play, but the Blue Paladin seemed too good natured for such things. The Blade leader decided he’ll have to ask about this curious attitude at a later time, now they had more serious matters to attend to.

It was one night that Lancir finally had the chance to solve his inner musings. Him and a few Blade members were spending a few days in the Castle of Lions for some planning and mixed training, so they had free roam of the castle when they weren’t working. After a strenuous training session, Lancir was still too wired to rest, so he searched for the kitchen to get something to drink. His mind wouldn’t relax, all he could think about were the war and their most recent losses, Thace, Ulaz and Antok. Even tho he treated the matter with abandon when Keith and Shiro entered their headquarters, the rebel leader has been hit hard by their loss. They were actually really close comrades, Lancir would even dare to call them friends if he wasn’t so afraid of what that term implied. He blamed himself for their early demise, and recently, the only thing that kept him focused was the happy nature of the Blue Paladin. From what he’s heard, he used to be a teacher, so now he’s able to show his real personality more without the serious title weighting him down. In all honesty, his soul was as pure as his hair colour. He’s tried time and time again to find evil in this man, but other than a bit of a short temper, he found nothing. Literally nothing. There’s no way Lancir can blame any hidden plans, so he’s back to square one.

Lost in thought, he was surprised to find he already arrived at the kitchen. His surprise grew when he noticed Kolivan inside, sipping what looked like a weird white liquid. What did he call it? Milk, from what he remembers. What a strange beverage…

“Oh, Lancir!”

Kolivan’s voice interupted his train of thought and brought him back to reality. He entered the kitchen and nodded towards the paladin, then sat next to him. He studied him a bit, noting dark bags under his eyes and the red rimmed eyes. Unable to stop himself, Lancir asked, “Have you cried?”

Jumping at the sudden question, Kolivan looked up into Lancir’s inquisitive eyes and slowly nodded, then he panics and speaks frantically.

“It’s nothing serious though, I promise! J-Just stress, it’s been catching up to me lately. I can’t sleep and I’m tired and we have so much to do. We fight on a daily basis! I have a hard time mantaining this pace..I’m sorry for saying all these, you have greater responsabilities than me, so your stress must be greater. I have no right to complain to you…”

Yet again, the paladin surprises Lancir. Upset as he is, his first concern is not upseting the Blade leader. It’s been so long since anyone cared for him like this..it’s hard to answer to such soft words when all you do every day is use the blade. Regardless of his uneasiness, Lancir decided..maybe it’s time he gives something back. With this in mind, he moves his hand towards Kolivan and gently ruffles his hair, shocking the young human.

“You should look after yourself too , young paladin. I have seen how you do not rest until everyone else does, you put the well being of your fellow men first of all, and while that is honorable, it is not right to neglect yourself.” , said Lancir as he looked Kolivan in the eyes.

Caught by surprise, the paladin turns red and turns his gaze towards his lap.

“Y-You noticed..?” , asked Kolivan embarrased. Lancir’s features softened as he regarded the suddenly shy earthling.

“It was hard not to. Your efforts deserve praise, boy, but do not forget yourself.” After this, Lancir allowed a little smile to show on his face. “I must thank you.” , he said.

“Me? For what?” , asked Kolivan baffled. As far as he remembered, he didn’t do anything for the galran leader that he’d need to be thanked for.

“You were the only one to completely disregard our galran heritage when the Blade met the paladins, and you have showed us kindness time and time again. I must also apologize for my..withdrawn nature, but I am not one to trust easily. I must say that you have proved yourself worthy more than once..Kolivan.” , said with surprising honesty the Blade leader

Completely shocked, the paladin finds himself smiling. How can he not? This sudden admission just made him so happy!

“No need to apologize, I get it! You’re the leader, you have to be cautious about who you trust and all that, I understand. Thank you for your trust, Lance. I’ll treasure it!” , says Kolivan smiling brightly at the galra.

Completely unprepared for the new name, Lancir’s eyes widened as he stared at the human, who suddenly realized what he said.

“A-Ah, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize!” , exclaimed Kolivan blushing. “I don’t know what got into me I-I just thought it sounded nice and it’s way easier for me to pronounce than your name since it’s human, b-but I don’t mean that your name is bad, I actually really like it! I-I just..I mean..”

Unable to stop himself, the newly named Blade leader chuckled, interrupting Kolivan’s panicked rambling.

“Kolivan.”

“Y-Yes..?”

Lancir trully smiled for the first time in decapheobs.

“Lance is quite alright.”

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munofsilver · 6 years

Text

Akumatized AU. Evillustrator 2.

Part two of Evillustrator. Nathaniel first time at school since he's been akumatized. Can he avoid Chloe? Ao3 Link.

The day with my sister went better than I thought it would. She didn't see me any differently than normal. I'm just glad she's not scared of me. Now that she's in bed and I should be, but I can't sleep. I'm going to school in the morning and I fear the worse.

Even though Chloe is the reason I got akumatized, she's going to make fun of me like always. If I could I would stay home forever, but I have to face my fear. Besides what kind of image would I be showing Natalie? If you're scare run away. What kind of big brother would I be if I did that?

That's not what you should do. I think a day away will be enough. Maybe Chloe won't be there. I know I'm not that lucky. In the morning after breakfast, I head off to school. “Good luck.” I hear Natalie say as I close the door.

Nothing happened on the way to school, but that's not the part I'm worried about. I'm used to people making fun of me, so the whispers don't bother me. I don't like it when people do that in my face. At least behind me back I can pretend they are going after someone else.

That's one of the reasons I try to avoid Chloe. Not only does she make fun of me in my face but in front of everyone around. I tighten my fist when I think about all those time Chloe was just being Chloe, and not just with me but with everyone.

Anger? Am I getting angry? That's new, I usually don't get mad. The last time I did was when Chloe made Natalie cry. This big brother is very protective of his younger sister, and all my family and friends. That's why I love it when Marinette stands up against Chloe. Wait for Marinette, I could have also killed her.

Trapped in a box on a boat with a hole in it. Another person I should avoid. I should also apologize to her. I didn't mean to hurt her. I was just so mad. I mean she only wanted to date me to help stop me. I shouldn't be mad at that. I'm sure I would do the same thing.

Maybe I should talk to her, later today after school. My mind wonders to my classmates at school. Some have been akumatized so I shouldn't have to worry about them. They will understand being akumatized themselves. The others I'm not sure about.

As soon as I felt pain in my face I notice I'm at school, and trip on the steps. Landing face first on them. Quickly I jump up and look around. Those that saw are staring at me. Not laughing or anything just staring. It was creepy, so I ran inside. I didn't stop until I got to my seat and dived under it.

When I hit my head is when I notice that when I got akumatized I grow taller. Usually, I would be able to slide under my desk without any problem. Hitting my head on the way in proves that I grow. I always wonder what being taller would be like. I'm not sure if I like it.

If I wanted to I could erase part of the desk and redraw it in later. Can I still do that? The pillow I drew for Natalie disappeared. Honestly, I don't care about the erasing part. I know it could be handy, but I don't think I ever want to use it. Unless I know no other option. Even then I'm not sure. That is very dangerous if I mess up, and knowing me I will mess up.

I suppose the same thing could be said about any of my powers. Looking at the tablet on my right arm, I can't help but think about what I almost did and what I could do now. “Nathaniel?” Someone saw me rush in but who? I peak my head out over the desk. Marinette is in the room looking around. Slowly I get out and stand up. Right away she noticed me.

How could she not, with the way I look. “I thought it was you that ran past me,” she tries to lighten up the mood with a laugh. I do like her laughs, they always seem to make me feel better and more clam. Sadly I got nothing this time.

“I'm sorry,” we both say at the same time. Why is she sorry. Marinette didn't do anything wrong. We both laugh. I nervously, Marinette not so sure. I don't think so. Marinette speaks first. “I just wanted to say sorry for agreeing to go on a date with you, only to try to get Cat Noir to stop you,” she said in a low tone like she's ashamed.

“It's okay. I understand. I would have done the same if someone that was akumatized asked me out.” I'm being honest. I really would, if I could get ahold of Ladybug or Cat Noir that is. “You did what you had to do,” I added. She smiles in a sweet cute way, that I'm sure that's where Natalie got it from. My sister is taking after Marinette more than Alix.

Alix wouldn't like that. Being the youngest she wants my little sister to be her little sister. “You're not mad at me?” Marinette asked. I nod to let her know we're still friends. She was happy and did a little cheer while clapping her hands. “I got to go and met up with Alya,” she waves as she heads out the door.

A feel a smile come across my face. So very glad that Marinette and I had that little talk. I sit instead of hiding under my desk. I was getting my stuff out of my bag when Mr. Domocles walked in. He sharply turns to face me, to be honest, that creeped me out.

“Mr. Kurtzberg I would like to speak with you. Please follow me.” Sifft like a statue he turns towards the door and heads out. I pack everything up and follow him. In his office, I just freeze in my seat like I always do when I'm in here.

Sometime later I handed him my akumatized tablet pen as he requested. “Now the tablet.” His hand is held out towards me. “Sorry, Mr. Domocless but I can't do that. In order to remove the tablet from my arm, I have to remove the whole outfit,” I sighed. “I see then. You may go.” I was out like the room was on fire. I hate being in his office.

I head back to the classroom. When I got there in my spot there was a red envelope. “Come to the bakery after school, Marinette. Happy late birthday.” Marinette is such a good friend. I'm lucky to know her. The ring of the bell made me jump and slide down in my seat.

I did see Chloe and I'm surprised she didn't come to “attack” me. I shouldn't say anything since it's still early in the school day. Is school always this boring? I had a hard time staying awake during class. This never happened before. Then I noticed things I never noticed this before cause I would normally be drawing right now.

Not wanting to draw sure changes things. Even a small bit. It seems that I'm not the only one that finds class boring. I can see Ivan staring at Mylene. Chloe reading a magazine while glancing at Adrien once in a while. Alix is making spitwads I'm guessing she's going to use them on Kim who is leaning back in this seat sleeping.

Sabrina is taking notes. I wonder why she puts up with Chloe constantly ordering her around like she owns her. Alya is also taking notes. Wait she just passed something to Nino. Maybe it wasn't notes just a note. I laugh silently to myself. Everyone else seems to be listening to Miss. Bustier.

Next class, I stayed awake cause it's Miss. Mendeliev's class. I dare not drift off in this class anymore. At lunch, I sat alone as Alix comes to sit with me, mostly to hide from a face covered in spitwads Kim looks for her. Since I usually like to sit alone during lunch, it was a perfect place to hide.

“Sorry, this happened to you on your birthday. I know that feel,” she sighs. I almost forgot she was also akumatized on her birthday. “How did Natalie take it?” “She was scared at first. Mostly cause she didn't know if I was still under Hawkmoth's control. Once she realized I wasn't nothing really changed.”

“Does she know I got akumatized?” I look at Alix. “Why don't you come over for a visit?” Alix hasn't been over since she was akumatized a month ago. I still can't believe that all this started about two months ago. “Watching her again?” She asked sounding like she always knew the answer. I'm sure she did. “Marinette wants me to see her at her parent's bakery after school.” I look at the birthday card she's given me.

“Are you going to bring her with?” That is a good question. Marinette would understand if I went and got her. Like all my friends she knows my mom works late and someone needs to look after my little sister cause she's too young to be on her own.

I could also ask someone to look after her while I go, like Alix. Looking at her I think on that, while she waits for my answer. “It would be nice for her to get out, or you could watch her for me.” I smile at her.

Natalie doesn't leave the house much. I think she should come with and have Alix pick her up. I laugh when I see Alix eyebrow twitching. “Tell you what. I will bring her with me, but could you at least pick her up for me?” Alix smiles. “That I will do. I'm not a babysitter.” We both laugh. It always feels good to laugh.

During the last class, I send Cindy a text. She will give Natalie the message. When Alix comes to pick her up she will be ready. After class, I wait for Alix and Natalie to met me in front of the school's steps outside. Today must be a lucky day.

Chloe stayed away from me all day. Once Natalie and Alix get here I can leave school without having to run into Chloe. “Sabrina is my report done yet?” Oh no, it's that voice. She is near and I start to shake. So close, I shouldn't have said anything. Moving a little as possible I turn around.

She not there and I sigh in relief. Then I heard, “It's all done Chloe, so is our group presentation.” If Sabrina is near so is Chloe sadly. I turn back around for another look. “Delivery for Mr. Kurtzberg, Nathaniel.” Alix jokes.

She was carrying Natalie piggyback style. They would do that a lot when we came to visit her, or we take Natalie to the park. Once Natalie was down Alix zoomed off and I see Kim flying above after her. The spitwads are gone now at least. I'm going to bring this up when I see Alix again.

“Alix got hit like you?” Natalie asked. I only nod. “Chloe?” “Not this time.” I held out my hand for her to hold. She takes it and I freeze when I hear that voice. “Let's get out of here, Sabrina I need to get my nails done. My nail polish is chipped.” Sabrina and Chloe come stomping out. Chloe is looking at her nails and Sabrina struggling behind her.

I need to get out of here before Chloe sees me or Natalie. My older protective brother instincts kick in, and I grab Natalie. Picking her up under her arms and holding her closely, tightly against my chest. As I run away from the school. I head towards Marinette's place. I'm very glad she lives close by and Chloe will never go there.

I didn't let of Natalie go until I hear the door close. “That was fun. Again, Nathaniel,” she cheers. I hear Marinette's mom, “Awwww so cute.” Soon Marinette comes in. “You're here and you have Natalie with you,” she smiles. “I hope you don't mind,” I don't know why I'm nervous. “Hi, Marinette,” Natalie waves.

“I don't mind. Hello Natalie,” Marinette pats Natalie's head. “This way,” Marinette waves us to follow her. Leading us up to the apartment part of the building. In the kitchen on the table was a cake. Topped with white frosting. Better Late Than Never wrote in blue frosting.

“Thank you, Marinette,” I smile as I stare at the cake. She just smiles as she says, “You're welcome. I made it myself. My dad help with the frosting.” The cake was delicious, the frosting was coconut my favorite. The cake was enough for everyone to have a piece. By everyone I mean, Natalie, Marinette, her father, her mother, and me. Almost like she knew Natalie would be here.

We both head home. Once there I make us dinner, do my homework, play some games with Natalie, take a shower while Natalie heads to bed. While I was drying hair, I hear the front door opening. I poke my head out the door to see who was coming in. It was my mom, she's home early.

I come out of the bathroom fully dressed with a towel on my head. My hair is still a little wet. “I skip lunch so I could get home early. I wanted to see how school was today,” she smiled. It's rare to see her not smile. “It was great. Nothing really happened.” She yawns with her hand over her mouth, “That's great to hear. Now off to bed.” I nod and enter the room I share with Natalie.

#akumatized #akumatized au #Evillustrator #Nathaniel Kurtzberg #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #alix kubdel #ML #Fanfic #AU #ML AU #natalie kurtzberg #mr. damocles #chloe bourgeois #sabrina raincomprix

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cosmosogler · 6 years

Text

oh my god, yesterday was the wooooorst.

i left for the airport on time. the bus app said that the bus would arrive at the stop in 10 minutes (and it was a 2 minute walk away). so i had 2 hours to make a ~30 minute ride.

i missed the bus by so much that i didn’t even see it drive away from the stop before i arrived. the app had just, completely lied i guess? the rest of the day was also like that.

so i walked to the downtown station to try to catch the other bus. i also just missed that one according to the lady at the counter. she said the next downtown bus was coming in 40 minutes. so i called a taxi after fretting about it for a few minutes. the taxi driver said they’d be there in 15-20 minutes so i was like “ok.” the other route would go by in a half hour so a taxi would be faster.

the taxi took over 40 minutes to arrive. i told them never mind and got on the second bus. they said they had just pulled into the station and seemed pretty salty about it. but like... that was more than twice as long as they said they’d take.

the bus didn’t leave the station for another ten minutes. i made the wroooong choice. the bus also stopped at every single stop along the route and got stuck at some long red lights. i called my mother. i complained about it to harrison. but nothin was gonna make that bus go faster.

i missed my flight by 10 minutes.

i got put on the next flight... which was in six hours. instead of 9 or 10 pm, i’d be getting home at 3 am (my time). so i spent 6 hours bumming around the airport. i couldn’t get food when i was hungry because the person behind the counter at the snack bar didn’t show up for a very long time. i started drawing a picture on my ipad that i’d planned on working on during the flight.

the flight took off late. i had had a 20 minute layover in charlotte, so every single minute was making me more and more antsy. then when we arrived in charlotte we got put at the wrong gate so the plane sat there for more than 5 minutes before trundling away to the new gate.

the gate was at the end of one terminal. the plane i had to catch was on the other end of the airport at the end of another terminal. i sprinted!!! i had ten minutes to get there!!!

i was really bummed because you’d think since i can bike 12 miles that i could run for more than one minute before completely losing my breath and stamina. though to be fair i had not eaten and was wearing a heavy backpack and a bra that’s a little too tight. i was wheezing after a few seconds.

i actually made it? and i got my boarding pass printed at the counter with 4 minutes to spare before boarding started. i ran back to the bathroom but the line was so long i’d never make it back to the gate (the area was under construction and the nearest bathroom was more than 2 minutes away from the gate).

it had been a few hours since i’d gotten to use the restroom, and with my gallbladder out i’ve had less... like, tolerance for waiting. that might be a “stress has destroyed my body” thing more than a gallbladder thing though.

anyway i had to fidget in my plane seat for 45 minutes while waiting for boarding to end and the takeoff and then we had to reach cruising altitude.

on the flight my ipad pencil wouldn’t connect to the ipad (airplane mode i guess?) so i couldn’t draw for the 5 hours i was sitting there. i got out smash instead since i got my 3ds fixed the other day... i got really REALLY good at hitting rest on a moving target as jigglypuff. i spent like 40 minutes doing nothing but that. the other hour was just working on general combos and taking on the computer as dedede. because i had nothing else to do and wanted to get good at it again. i made a gunner mii based off blue but the mii characters don’t really seem to have any natural combos? it’s just really hard to rack up damage with them. jumbi’s way easier to play as, at least. she’s got a sword.

my thumb started hurting from the new thumb stick (it wasn’t broken in yet i guess) so i put the game away and dozed for the rest of the flight. i made some notes for the story... just thinkin about how i wanted to work out some conversations. i mostly wanted to rest because i’d be getting home at 4 am in the morning my time, the airport is an hour away from my parents’ house. i didn’t get any sleep at all.

when i got to the airport my mom and dad were actually there? i thought they’d be picking me up at the curb. but they snuck up behind me while i was trying to get to baggage claim and mom almost pushed me down the escalator.

dad acted like everything’s normal. and i guess things are “normal” now. as in, this is the new normal, because dad has either completely ignored what he did or forgotten about it.

he probably forgot about it. grabbing and threatening me and using real personal insults wasn’t a big deal ~to him~. grabbing me while i was laying in bed trying to sleep wasn’t a big deal ~to him~.

i pretended to sleep on the car ride home but again couldn’t manage to doze off. i wrote a few more story notes in my memo after a while because i gave up.

when i got home i went basically right to bed without even putting on pajamas and then i couldn’t sleep. wiley came to cuddle with me for a little bit. once he was satisfied that he had stepped on me enough times he left. i still couldn’t sleep.

when i finally did doze off, i woke up like two hours before my alarm was set to go off. so i guess i got like five hours of sleep maybe?

today was a blur. i spent a large fraction of it scanning in my old comic pages. i couldn’t get my sketchbook to fit in the scanner though no matter what i tried (i tried a lot of arrangements). so i’ll either figure that out later or not bother. there was a big dark line down the left side of the images. i was also a little upset that my loose pages didn’t fit in the scanner, so there’s a bit of the side clipped off every page image now. i was so broken up about how much i was losing that i didn’t even change the deviantart images. i know i shouldn’t put stuff on the edges of the page, but i didn’t really register it when i started the comic. i had started to use the whole page, and i put dialogue at the top and off to the sides to give myself more room to draw. i had to erase and redraw a lot of speech bubbles.

then i think i dicked around online for a while, uploading the images and stuff, and then i went downstairs to try to draw on the ipad and maybe finish that picture i’d started. i don’t think it’s going to be a fast picture... i don’t have the energy for shading though.

my brother came home so i said “hi” and “nice anime hair.” his hair is more than twice as long as mine, at least in the front. in the back it’s not quite that much longer. we drove out to freddy’s for dinner and both got real sick from the greasy burgers. he got it worse though because i had a veggie burger. then we got ice cream because we’re geniuses.

then we got groceries but i couldn’t find any tempeh. so tacos are gonna have to wait.

mom came home at 8 pm. she’d been out of the house working or driving to/from work for 13 hours today. she’s going to work for 6 hours tomorrow too. she told me about our my financial situation. but then she gave me a bunch of excuses to not teach me how to do taxes yet again this year.

i gotta start paying off my student loans though. can’t let that interest build up.

villanova apparently blew all my parents’ retirement funds. i didn’t realize they didn’t actually provide us with any financial aid. we couldn’t get loans because of the retirement money... all i managed to do at villanova was almost die!

while i was hanging out with my brother he made a few “jew” jokes. i pretended to be extremely confused. he asked if i’d never heard of jew jokes before and i shrugged and said not really. at least it got him off track. he didn’t tell any more.

i need to read up on how to deal with family members who get... weird about race. my brother’s already made holocaust jokes though. he’s been doing that. i get the feeling he fell in with the wrong crowd. i don’t remember what to do about it.

genevieve seems bored to tears. from the way my family describes her behavior she seems... depressed. she won’t go for walks. she doesn’t leave her bed and doesn’t come when called. she still won’t touch the stairs and she doesn’t spend much time in the backyard.

i got her to come twice when i called today at least. i had to be really insistent and annoying but she did come over eventually and i highly praised her generosity. that seemed to cheer her up. she wagged her tail and everything. it’s so hot out... maybe tomorrow i can get her to go to the park for a few minutes. we’ll see.

whenever i try to interact with eve my family, like, tells me how it is with her. like she’s just Like That now and there’s nothing they can do about it. “she won’t go up the stairs. she just won’t.” “she won’t come when we call her. she just looks at us. that’s all she does.” when i called eve my brother actually interrupted me to tell me yet again that she doesn’t come when called.

i got her to come.

when i try to encourage eve to check out the stairs my mother has interrupted me three times to tell me eve won’t go up the stairs. like she doesn’t want me to even try. eve is so lonely. i can tell. she’s bored and lonely. that’s why she’s started chewing up cardboard and stuff left on the floor.

i’m gonna take my work downstairs tomorrow and work in the kitchen i think.

this evening i tried to start drawing for the comic again. i got one panel done, but IT’S SO HOT HERE. MY HANDS WERE SWEATING BEFORE I COULD EVEN PICK UP THE PENCIL. EVERYTHING GOT SO SMUDGED!!! it’s going to be a real struggle to finish two scenes this week. ten pages... i’ve got three finished already and in my drafts on the comic. so, i need to draw seven pages. i’ll work on it tomorrow if i can. these pages might suffer because of the heat though. i smudged one of the older pages before i could even get it in the scanner. i somehow got graphite on my LEFT hand, which never gets smudgy when i work... it’s always the side of my right hand since i rest it on the paper so it doesn’t shake.

my back really, really hurts. my shoulders and neck also really hurt. i tried stretching, but i didn’t really put a lot of effort into it... i always feel so, like, unable to do things here. unwilling to do things, maybe. lethargic. i didn’t get to meditate yesterday and i’m skipping it tonight because i don’t want to make noise with the guided thing. i’ve been lax about it anyway. i feel so on edge.

when i tried to have lunch at like 10:30 (? i lost track of time) this morning i was immediately very ill. so i ended up not having any food for about 27 hours, if we decide to cut out the leftovers adventure there. i didn’t try to eat again until i went out with my brother. to fast food... only good decisions, folks!!

still feeling super lethargic even though i finished a panel. i’ve got a lot of drawing to do. i hope tomorrow i feel better. on sunday i’m going to the movies with asher, i think.

you know what i’m probably feeling so low energy because i didn’t eat for so long and also i haven’t slept well in two days. or, really, in a very long time, but especially the last two nights. i still need to talk to mom about finances for, like, hiring a study specialist... i don’t think we’re going to have the money to afford the psychiatrist my therapist recommended. she REALLY wants me to get a second opinion on my meds but i just don’t think it’s a big enough deal to warrant shelling out for full price psychiatrist appointments. that doctor doesn’t take insurance and it’s just... i know how expensive this gets. it’s already expensive enough getting even regular check ups for snoopy.

i hate living here... it’s so dirty and dusty and dilapidated. in my apartment i keep everything pretty orderly and don’t hold on to things i’m not using. or at least, i try not to. i don’t have enough space to hoard random stuff and i don’t get that attached to those things anyway. my mom won’t even throw out old food that nobody ate for the 3 years before it went bad (2 years ago). they’ve been using my room as a storage space while they paint the game room, but that project’s going super slow because they’ve been at it for months now. so now there’s just tons of crap stacked in front of my dresser (so i can’t actually get to the clothes i left here) and you can’t even get to my sister’s door. she’s in korea anyway i guess so that doesn’t matter as much.

ok anyway i’ve been writing for a while now. thanks for listening. i’ve got a lot more sore muscles than just my back and neck and shoulders. maybe i pulled something while sprinting around the airport yesterday, because breathing is a chore and my legs are just... not feelin it. i’m just trying really hard not to get sick. my mom came in my room and coughed all over me without even covering her mouth so it’s like, well, guess i don’t have any control over that either!

high stakes, no control!!!!!!!!! just how i’m used to it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

it’s 11:40 arizona time but i know my body thinks it’s way later. i’m so tired. i don’t think i’ll be able to sleep though. guess i should try anyway.

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maiji · 7 years

Photo

Process and wip images for A House That Holds Long Limbs (Part 4)

Previous process and wip documentation: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Read the pages for part 4 here (full complete version will be linked from YYH North Bound master post)

This is a rare glimpse into how I tackle action scenes!! It’s rare because I rarely do it. Action is honestly one of the hardest things for me to draw, and as I’m sure I’ve said here many times before, I have the utmost respect for shounen manga artists whose works are steeped in them. It’s a really impressive skill to be able to do it well - to create a cinematic, dynamic sense of motion that doesn’t dissolve into visual confusion and incomprehensibleness.

This was as interesting for me to document my thought process as it hopefully is for you to read and discover what the heck was going on in my head (a big honking mess, that’s what). There was much screaming and crying while working on this hahaha.

Aside from Hokushin’s beautiful face (lmao), Part 4 is packed with things I don’t usually draw. Specifically: action, things taking place in the dark, and corpses. For things taking place in the dark, I heavily referenced the dark room rounds from the tournament for Genkai’s successor in volume 4, because it involves action and Togashi used practically zero screentones in it and I didn’t want to either. For the dead rokurokubi, I looked up photos of skulls and drew on my memory of various horror comics I’ve read, like Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service. (At one point I also googled photos of rotting skulls, but TBH I didn’t really want to spend a lot of time looking at detailed photographic references of corpse and decomposing bodies for obvious reasons, especially as I usually work on these comics late at night before I go to bed. The last thing I need is for images to get stuck in my brain when I’m sleeping.)

The rest of this post focuses mainly on action and redrawing things.

Script

The original script for this section actually ran a little further in the story than what’s shown here, but in order to convey the sequence effectively, I ended up stretching a number of key moments out and have booted the later ones to be completed for Part 5.

Thumbnails

In the thumbnails above, you’ll notice quite a few are redraws of the same page as I struggle - pages 31-33 repeat immediately in the rows after, page 37 was attempted three times, etc.

Page count growth

A script of 8 pages turned into 10 pages at the thumbnail stage, and then ultimately netted out at 12 pages in the final version that was posted. As you can see, effective action sequences generally take me more pages than I think they will. With an exception (documented below).

Thumbnailing/storyboarding things out should theoretically minimize the page count creep! But because I tend to treat my thumbnails as such a loose stage (to avoid later disappointment when I can’t recreate it as nicely in the final page), I rush through them. Unfortunately, action sequences require me to think a lot more carefully through the scene as a director - staging the shot and the experience of the motion and coordinating people’s limbs and all the items in the scene more carefully and whatnot than, say, just a couple of heads talking. So inevitably, when I rush to get ahead to the finished pages, that’s when I realize it doesn’t flow as well as I was imagining (or not really imagining it).

As a result, the actual “live” pages turn into constant mental checks and runthroughs of the panels, realizing it’s not flowing as well as I’d like, and restarting. By restarting I mean mentally reenvisioning the sequence, sometimes quickly doodling alternate thumbnails (I didn’t bother in this case, so I have no alternate examples from after I started redrawing), and erasing and redrawing and adding pages. I guess I could probably avoid this if I just stop and put more time into thinking through the thumbnails… but it seems like I end up revising no matter what. So, constant juggling forever.

The evolution of the key action sequence

In my head, the main sequence was:

Hokushin lands.

He gets up and feels something in the dark.

He discovers the rokurokubi corpse.

He turns around to discover a swarm of hands in the dark!

Ahhh hands!! Ahhhh!!

Then he gets sealed and stringed up. End action sequence, back to people standing - or hanging out, I guess - and talking.

I roughed out my panels and pencils for all the pages following my thumbnails instead of doing one page at a time, because I’m impatient and also tend to think of all the pages as a wholistic narrative and then drilling down to the details on each page (big to small perspective).

As I went back over each page and detailing the base pencil art more, I began noticing more issues with the flow of the action and the pagination. Things started really shifting and changing at point 4. Here’s essentially how my thinking played out as I drew:

He turns around to discover a swarm of hands in the dark! - WAIT he just sees the corpse and then turns around? I should have him sense something is behind him first to get you more into his head and experience. OK, insert another panel of him sensing and whatever. THEN he can turn around. This is also good because I can erase the panel where he’s turning around and give the first panel a bit more room so I can draw more of his body in the first one and make his startled falling back motion a bit clearer.

HANDS!! AHHH HANDS!! - Wait, I have hands coming from BEHIND him and don’t effectively show that before they just appear to grab his hair. Which I suppose they do, but when I review panel flow it seems jarring, like a poorly directed cut and something was missing. Let’s try adding some hands behind him in the panel where he looks shocked. Never mind, this looks dumb and he looks dumb and basically seems even more like an afterthought. Ooh, better idea: let’s have him dodge the first wave of hands. That’ll be kinda cool and more interesting. And then he can land and be like OH SHIT MORE HANDS FROM EVERY DIRECTION

Ahhh hands!! Ahhhh!! - Hmm, maybe I should add a page here to better capture his dodge sequence. So the panels will be hands, dodge, and then the next page is he lands, then he realizes there are more hands behind him. How crouched down should he be? I guess in the later pages I basically drew him in a practically fully upright position… eh.. Working this out...

*starts drawing extra page* … Mmm, thinking about this again, no. It stretches things out too much. Now it feels like he lands, the new page adds an extra pause that could be interpreted unconsciously as he thinks he’s ok, then he gets attacked by hands from behind. But that’s ridiculous because he’s a rokurokubi, he KNOWS the hands can come back around or whatever, and he’s a good and cautious fighter, the extra pause doesn’t seem to fit. Thinking this through, basically I need it to feel faster - he lands (typed “he hands” there first time around haha), and he doesn’t have a chance to react again before it turns out hands are coming from all directions. So, I’ll keep it to the one original page and draw the reaction to the sound of the hands coming from everywhere. Done. (one of the few instances where I reduce page count in an action sequence)

Oh yeah, I forgot about his arms and legs getting sealed. Er, add another page. OK done.

For comparison, below are photos of the pencils for pages 35 and 36 before the above process:

... and after:

Redraws

I generally try to avoid redrawing an entire image/page from scratch if I don’t have to. Even if I don’t like the overall drawing, I’m still terrified of effing up the parts that turned out OK the first time around. However, sometimes you gotta know when to cut your losses and start anew and save yourself time and grief (I’m definitely still learning how to know lol). I do have a few strategies to ease my mind - I often take photos of something before I proceed to the next step or change direction (which is where many of these wip photos come from). This helps calm me down because at least now I have a reference for what it was before I took the leap of faith to move forward. Another option is to just leave it and draw on a completely new blank page.

Page 37, where Hokushin is getting his head pulled back by the hands, was an incredibly rare instance of the pencils for a page turning out almost exactly how I wanted on the first try, so I was loathe to redraw or adjust it. This means I basically forced myself to shuffle things before and after to accommodate not having to change it.

On the flipside, page 40, where the shot backs away so you can see Hokushin tied up with the hands, is one I full-on redrew from scratch. I was having a hard time with his pose and how all the hands were wrapped around him and how everything was actually working. I wasn’t happy with the drawing the first time around, but inked it anyways to see if I would like it better the next morning (sometimes this works, to wait and look at it with a distanced frame of mind). Spoiler, I didn’t lol. However, the process of inking the entire thing helped me better hone in on what parts I liked and didn’t like, so when I sketched it out again I was better able to adjust.

This photo shows the original (with the words REDRAW :/ at the bottom), a sketch I did trying to figure out his posture and where all the hands were/how the wrapping actually worked, and then the pencils of the redraw.

Final miscellaneous things

The end page of Part 4 is once again a last minute addition that resulted because I was facing a blank page (again!) after adding the page where Hokushin gets his arms and legs sealed. I changed the spoken line multiple times. First it was a line that’s been pushed to the upcoming part 5, then it was the “You certainly found my “treasure room” quickly” (that’s on the previous page). In the end, I just wrote a completely new line for it. It seemed to work better with the panel and closing off this part at a good point.

Last but not least, I somehow broke my pen inking this part lmao. Fortunately it’s a Muji pen so I only broke the tip off the cartridge somehow, probably in my intense scribbling/shading at some point. It’s not super clear in the photo but if you look closely at the point you’ll see this thin line coming out of the tip of the pen - it was this metal filament that basically scratched the paper without any ink coming out. I had to make an emergency run to two Mujis, neither of which had the black refills, so I ended up just buying two pens with similar thicknesses. Worst case scenario, I would have just inked with my blue cartridge, since the scanning would turn everything black and white anyways... the original pages would have just looked weird.

Phew! Hopefully it worked out and isn’t a totally incoherent mess!

#yu yu hakusho #comics #fanart #hokushin #wip #process #drawings #yyh north bound #art by maiji/mary huang #action sequences #redrawing #art supplies

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