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mindmeltonabun-blog · 4 years ago

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Tale of the Nine Tailed: More Analysis and Theories (Ep 9 & 10)

If you haven't done so already, I would suggest that you read all of my other TOTNT posts before continuing to read this post because otherwise you might find yourself lost or confused as to what I’m talking about. For the most part, the majority of the theories that I have proposed here have came true which is great! However, there were a few theories, most notably my zombie theory that didn’t quite come true. Although I wouldn’t be surprised that if in the end we found out that the Imoogi had a hand in creating those zombies.

Now this post may leave you in a state of exhaustion upon reading it, but I can guarantee you that it will be well worth your time at the end of it ! Additionally, I would like to apologize in advance if I haven't posted my theories or analyses right away, but I’ve been preoccupied with school work as well as tirelessly watching the US election. Needless to say, it’s been a very long week for me! I do want to write well thought out posts for you all, but at the same time I hope you guys will understand that these theoretical and analytical posts do require a great deal of time and extensive research. Anyways with that being said, let’s get to theorizing and analyzing the clues of which we were given in Ep 9 and Ep 10!

What The Imoogi Wants

Initially, I had strongly believed that the Imoogi was after Lee Yeon’s fox bead because it was a form of “Yeouiju” which could’ve helped it become a celestial dragon. There are of course other ways an Imoogi could be a celestial dragon:

1) Fox Bead/Yeouiju

2) Sacrificial Virgin Bride

3) Living to be 1000 years old

It should be noted that I am still somewhat uncertain whether in the context of TOTNT, an Imoogi would need to fulfill all three requirements to become a celestial dragon. In Korean mythology, it is heavily implied that the Imoogi only needs one of the three. Furthermore, in most of the popular myths about the Imoogi, it mainly seeks to obtain the fox bead/yeouiju. Thus, this is why I had initially concluded that the Imoogi in TOTNT was solely after Lee Yeon’s fox bead/Yeouiju and not anything else. However since TOTNT is an adaption of many popular Korean folklore, I think the writer is trying to incorporate all three requirements in their own unique way. Meaning that they are trying to add their own dramatic flair or twist to it. Now I’ve already discussed in great detail about the first two ways so now I want to focus on how I think the writer is trying to incorporate the requirement of living to be 1000 years.

1000 Years + More on Bok Gil/Imoogi’s Background

First, it is implied that Mountain Spirits are “celestial” animals (i.e bears, foxes, snakes, and tigers). By “celestial” I mean that you have to be at least 1000 years old in order to even be considered for this prestigious position. Therefore, at the time when Ah Eum had met Lee Yeon, he had just been recently appointed to that position. In the meanwhile, we as the viewers aren’t given any additional information as to what Lee Yeon had been doing up to that point. One thing is for sure, Lee Yeon must have been a real arrogant and egotistical ass. There I said it ! I mean just look how he behaved when he first met Ah Eum and Lee Rang! However, I think that by meeting Ah Eum and Lee Rang, they brought out Lee Yeon’s more compassionate side.

So you’re probably wondering well what the hell does this have anything to do with the Bok Gil/Imoogi? Well I’m getting to that! If you had remembered, I had theorized that Lee Yeon may have been the reason why Bok Gil committed suicide. Given Lee Yeon’s arrogant pretentious nature, I could definitely see Lee Yeon being completely unaware that his words and actions could’ve deeply affected others. One of those people was Bok Gil/Imoogi.

I believe that Bok Gil/Imoogi is around or exactly the same age as Lee Yeon. Bok Gil had probably died some time during the Goryeo or Joseon dynasty. What makes me believe this? Well just look at the kind of shoes Taluipa was holding. Those shoes are “Kkotsin” which were typically worn by men during those dynasties. Coincidentally, around the same time Bok Gil had died, Lee Yeon was appointed to the Mountain Spirit position. It raises the question, did Bok Gil kill himself before he was able to reach the “celestial” age of 1000 years old? I think so. Thus, he was unable to meet one of the requirements to become a Mountain Spirit.

Collectively, I think Bok Gil’s backstory will have a lot to do with our understanding of the Imoogi’s true motivations . For the Imoogi, it’s not purely about fulfilling the requirements of becoming celestial dragon, but it’s more about personally getting revenge on the person who took away his chance of ever becoming a Mountain Spirit in the first place. If you think about, you didn’t see him trying to go after Sato or any of the other Mountain Spirits or any other Gumiho for that matter. He specifically zeroed in on Lee Yeon.

Maybe the only wrongdoing that Lee Yeon may have committed towards the Imoogi was that he simply existed. Though, I wouldn’t be surprised that Bok Gil’s death and his hatred for Lee Yeon had all stemmed from a simple misunderstanding because let’s be real here, one of the central themes in TOTNT is misunderstandings.

Imoogis are typically seen as auspicious creatures in Korean folklore. Meaning that they are typically viewed as a good omen. Therefore, I think the Imoogi/Bok Gil was a good person, but because of his jealousy of Lee Yeon, he was driven towards depression and suicide. Upon coming back to life, instead of sadness, he was filled with anger and the need for revenge. I mean it’s easier to be angry than sad right?

Additionally, other theories I have for Bok Gil is that maybe his mother had foreseen he would meet the love of his life (Ah Eum) once he became the Mountain Spirit. However, this all changed when whoever decided that position belonged to Lee Yeon instead. If you think about it, Taluipa’s visions of the future are purely subjective just like Alice’s visions from Twilight. Meaning that the future is subjective because it is based on a person’s decision which can readily change.

Imoogi Changes His Decision of What He Wants

In the past, the Imoogi had wanted Lee Yeon’s heart. You might ask well what did the Imoogi mean by Lee Yeon’s heart? Did he mean his literal or figurative heart? The Imoogi could have meant his literal heart, but I think he meant it in a figurative sense. I think the Imoogi probably meant Lee Yeon’s fox bead which in traditional Korean folklore is the main power source/life force of a Gumiho, but I cannot say this with 100% certainty because TOTNT is after an adaption of many Korean folklore.

Now in the present, the Imoogi changed his mind of what he wanted from Lee Yeon. Why? Because he already knew that the fox bead has disappeared into the hands of the fortune teller. The Imoogi with his great powers could’ve easily gone after the fortune teller to retrieve it had this been his main objective. The Imoogi’s main objective isn’t to become a celestial dragon. Rather, it’s to get revenge on Lee Yeon whom he believed had stolen the life he was meant to have. The Imoogi had wanted Lee Yeon to suffer just as he had when he was alive as Bok Gil. He wanted Lee Yeon to feel the exact same pain of having to lose everything most precious to him. Man the Imoogi/Bok Gil is so immature! Taluipa, you need to discipline/talk with your son !

Is Taluipa a Snake/Dragon?

Other things I think would be interesting to know is what kind of species Bok Gil was. As mentioned earlier, Taluipa’s character is based off of Samsin Halmoni. In both Chinese and Korean folklore, Samsin Halmoni and Goddess Mago have been viewed as being the same. Mago was described as having long birdlike/clawlike finger nails. Furthermore, the Goddess Mago was associated with snakes, caves, and the “elixir of life”. See where I’m going yet?

Although it has not been revealed yet, I think that underneath Taluipa’s human skin, she is a snake/dragon. Therefore, this would also make Bok Gil a snake just like his mother. However, I am still unsure as to what kind of animal Taluipa’s husband is because as far as we know, he is just a regular human with immortality that was granted to him by Taluipa. If that is the case, would Bok Gil have been only half snake?

Does Taluipa Realize The Imoogi is Her Son?

I don’t think Taluipa has realized that the Imoogi is her son yet. If you remembered, I had said Bok Gil’s soul was in limbo. Therefore, when his soul traveled back into the land of the living, it had probably randomly jumped into whoever’s dead body was in that cave, thus this would make him unrecognizable even to his own mother.

Other things to note is that just as there is many foxes in the TOTNT, it should be assumed that there are also many snakes/Imoogis too. So Taluipa might not have realized that this one particular Imoogi was actually her son.

I think also that the Imoogi has the ability to cloud Taluipa’s psychic powers of clairvoyance. The decisions we make determines the kind of future we will have. And where exactly are decisions made? In our minds. We obviously know that the Imoogi has the psychic power to read others’ minds, but I think he also has powers that can block others from reading his. Without being able to see the Imoogi’s decisions which are made mentally, Taluipa cannot foresee what he will do next, only what he is doing presently. It’s about to be mother and son psychic power showdown ! Ouch, my brain hurts just thinking about that !

Resolving the Entangled Mess

In some of my previous posts I had suggested that Lee Rang will be the one that tragically dies. At the same time, I did leave room for the possibility of him having a happy ending through means of reincarnation. In this week’s episode, we were given another possibility of how Lee Rang might achieve a happy ending for himself such as untangling the mess.

Well what is this mess? I’m so glad you asked! Below is a chart that I drew as a visual aid to help you all understand the mess that currently exists in the world of TOTNT. I must say the mess in TOTNT is almost as messy as the US elections right now!

As you can see from my chart, the Imoogi has gotten Lee Yeon cornered in a sort of checkmate move. To win the Imoogi’s game, one must find a way to resolve the following two conflicts:

1) Lee Rang’s deal with the CEO

2) Imoogi piece inside Ji Ah

In doing so, one will then be able to remove the Imoogi completely!

Lee Rang’s Deal w/ The CEO

I had mentioned in a previous post that another common theme in TOTNT is deals/contracts. In ep 10, Taluipa’s husband advised to Lee Rang that he should try to think of a way to get around his contract with the CEO aka find a loophole.

What does “Quid Pro Quo” mean? It means that an item or service has been traded in return for something of equal value. The CEO had saved Lee Rang’s life and in return Lee Rang must comply with returning the a favor of equal value when asked. The favor the CEO asked Lee Rang was to bring Lee Yeon which essentially is a favor of equal value (a life for a life). Remember that if you choose not to comply, the power of the contract will force you to complete the favor anyway. However like with any deal, there is always a loophole. This loophole exists in the definition of Quid Pro Quo...of equal value.

Let’s look back to that chart that I drew earlier. What is the most precious thing to the CEO and is basically considered his life? THE CHERRY TREE! Without this tree, the CEO cannot survive. The CEO knew Lee Rang was being swayed by his brother as well as Lee Rang having knowledge of what his greatest weakness was. So then the CEO took precautions to ensure his greatest weakness could never be used against him by having the cherry tree be wheeled away to a safer location.

In order to avoid bringing/killing Lee Yeon, Lee Rang must find something of equal value to give back to the CEO to repay his debt. And that something of equal value is that damn cherry tree! Go Go Lee Rang! Find that cherry tree, return it to the CEO, and afterwards when the contractual rings break....KILL THE CEO !

While this does ensure the death of the CEO and the end of the contract between the CEO and Lee Rang, it does not ensure Lee Rang will survive in the long term. Meaning, Lee Rang cannot survive without the cherry tree either unless there is another means of extending his life (maybe elixir of life?). I do wonder what the typical lifespan of a half fox is. Things are implied, but yet there is no definitive answer as exactly how long a half fox can live. It also raises another question, can a half fox live forever provided that it does not get fatally injured?

Imoogi Piece Inside of Ji Ah

Now onto resolving the 2nd conflict which is how to remove the Imoogi piece inside of Ji Ah. Well I think it can go two ways:

1) Lee Yeon strikes up a deal with the Imoogi:

Lee Yeon will let the Imoogi take his body only if Imoogi would agree to removing the piece of himself that is inside Ji Ah. Now here’s the part where both Ji Ah and Lee Yeon could work together to stop the Imoogi once and for all. Remember that Lee Yeon is susceptible to the effects of evening primrose so when the Imoogi enters Lee Yeon’s body, it will also share the same vulnerability. Ji Ah could trap the Imoogi/Lee Yeon with evening primrose and then use her Shaman powers to remove the Imoogi. After all, one of the powers of a shaman is the ability to excise evil spirits!

2) Taluipa provides Lee Yeon with the elixir of life or turns him human

I will write out more of this theory later, but ngl guys I’m exhausted! Sorry!

Ji Ah = Supernatural Being=Shaman Goddess

In Ep 10, the writer is once again dropping clues like its freaking Christmas that Ji Ah is some sort of supernatural being. We got her female coworker asking if Ji Ah is even human. No she’s not human!! Then we saw how the Imoogi could read everyone else’s mind except for Ji Ah’s. Why? It’s the same reason why Lee Yeon couldn’t hypnotize Ji Ah. It’s because Ji Ah is a supernatural being (shaman goddess) that has hidden powers that makes her immune to powers of other supernatural creatures.

If you don’t still get it by now, I’ll give you this example: Edward Cullen and Bella. If you remember from Twilight, Edward Cullen could read everyone else’s mind except for Bella’s. Why? Because Bella had that special shield power which was later revealed once she became a vampire.

Therefore, just like Bella, I think Ji Ah has a bunch of special shaman powers that can be unlocked somehow. Don’t ask me how right now, my brain is struggling to write this sentence as we speak.

Last Remarks

Okay peeps, I struggled hard to try and write this. I am literally exhausted after staying up super late and waking super early to watch the US election results all week as well as doing my school work. So now I want to relax and celebrate the win of my President Elected, Mr. Joe Biden! I may or not write a separate post on what I think will happen in Ep 11. So stay tune!

P.S: If there are any other questions about TOTNT that I did not address, please feel free to leave a comment and I will do my best to try and provide you with an answer!

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catracorner962 · 4 years ago

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Chapters: 7/9 Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018), Spop - Fandom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: catradora - Relationship, Scorptra - Relationship, Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Catra & Scorpia (She-Ra), Catra & Glimmer, Catra & Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra), Glitra - Relationship, Catra & Bow, Catra & Hordak, Catra & Horde Prime, Catra & the princesses Characters: Catra, Adora, Scorpia, Bow, Glimmer, Shadow Weaver, Scorpia (She-Ra), Hordak, Horde Prime, Shera, She-Ra, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra), Corrupted Catra - Character, Chipped Catra - Character Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Enemies to Lovers, Character Death, Kinda, Shera - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt, Injury, back from the dead, Angst, Fluff and Angst, mostly angst, with some Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hugging, Feelings, Emotionally Repressed, Drama, Dramatic, Pain, pain and angst, Catra dies nine times, Catrademption, Catra Redemption, POV Catra (She-Ra), Princess Prom, Pulse - Freeform, Save the Cat, Corridors, destiny part 2, Promise, You Promise?, Friendship, Angst with a Happy Ending, shera spoilers, she ra season five, spop, spops5, Love, Hate, Lovers, dramatic lesbians, Sacrifice, Self-Sacrifice, Desire, Mutual Pining, Badass Adora, Protective, protective adora, disaster catra, Mistakes were made, Longing, Pining, no beta we die like meh, dumb lesbians, Death, Major character death - Freeform, glitra, Implied Glitra, Implied Death, Suffering, Torture, no good deed goes unpunished, Catra Angst, How Do I Tag, i am a glutton for angst, emotional soul searching, soul searching, Redemption, Remember Summary:

Nine times Catra died and the one time SheRa reset those lives.

Based on the tweet from Noelle Stevenson that Catra burned through all nine lives throughout the course of SheRa and then got those lives reset after Save the Cat.

*Warning for suicidal ideation, mentions of child abuse and torture*

Ass fatally kicked by Hordak in Destiny Part 2

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fangirlinglikeabus · 3 years ago

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every target novelisation....2!

planet of giants by terrance dicks ok so i think that the reason that this is...good, and an unearthly child was...not good, is because this was written 9 years later when like. other, non-terrance dicks people were also novelising stories and he wasn’t just grinding them out on an industrial level. planet of giants isn’t one of the greats of doctor who but this is a competent adaptation - it doesn’t add much but it does flesh out what’s already there, giving us some backstory elements and making the appearance of giant insects and bodies seem a bit more dramatic than they could manage in 1964. unfortunately it also alters my favourite line from the story (‘i don't know how you know, you're supposed to know!’) and the doctor is weirdly hostile at the beginning (he’s looking forward to ditching ian and barbara, he responds to barbara’s observation ‘drily’ like he’s being a bit sarcastic over her, um, *checks notes* noticing important details). also, dicks describes this in the opening as ‘the doctor’s most grotesque and terrifying adventure’ and i’m like...planet of giants? really??

doctor who and the dalek invasion of earth by terrance dicks ok this one legitimately doesn’t change much at all. it cuts down on some things (including the doctor’s end speech being shorter - i’m assuming that’s a space thing), fleshes out on pov bits as you can in prose, gets rid of the smacked bottom line. bizarrely there are a few times that susan calls her grandfather the doctor which...i’m pretty sure wasn’t there originally. aside from all those small details, yeah it’s basically the same, but it’s well adapted for prose (i genuinely think it stands as a novel in its own right), and depending on your reading speed it might actually be a nice, shorter alternative to the television version - it was around 45 minutes less time for me. some general things i wanted to comment on: the resistance is explicitly shown as kinda gender segregated (exclusively women are preparing food when we first see it) which irritated me; the description of parliament as a symbol of ‘human progress and tradition’ reminded me of blood harvest having the lords/commons system as the Ideal Form Of Government, in terms of how terrance dicks thinks (this may only interest me? idk i very probably spend too much time thinking about the political views of this particular dead dr who script editor); there’s a use of holocaust here that’s technically accurate to what the word literally means but it felt weird to me to use it.

the rescue by ian marter oh man i’ve been busy and this took me aages to read. it kinda...diverges increasingly from the original story as it goes on. we’ve got some scenes with the seeker crew (incidentally one of them says ‘ass’ and i was like???hello???you’re allowed to do that in a dr who book from 1987???), and then most of the expanded stuff is in the climax. dr who and bennett have a full on brawl! ian, barbara and vicki visit a destroyed didoi city on their way back to the tardis! mysterious silver figures! a giant worm encounter! incidentally, this does have way more of a downer ending than the original because it’s strongly implied that the last two of the didoi were killed by seeker crewmembers who fired in a panic, after which the report that forms the epilogue ends with “goodwill to all persons” to give us a taste of bitter irony. so that’s kinda grim. um...there’s actually a lot of little changes and minor expansions to this one as well so off the top of my head: we learn more about why vicki left earth (global warming :/), sandy is a lot more threatening-looking than on screen, the crashed ship gets its name changed to astra-nine, ian and barbara hold hands briefly, barbara’s fall really leaves her beaten up. i like the seeker crew comparing the tardis briefly passing them to various non-police box objects from the future (although the link to china is a bit eastern world=alien association for my tastes), dr who telling vicki ‘give that pretty face a wipe’ is clearly him attempting to cheer her up and it’s not meant to be weird but i found it weird. finally, i’ve gotta say i appreciate ian marter’s commitment to ‘mildly unsettling’ in his descriptions of tardis materialisations. this was the last novelisation he wrote before his death (the book’s dedicated to him) and mild criticisms aside, i do think he’s a good writer and he brings an interestingly different angle to the series.

the romans by donald cotton oh my god. how do i even start this. i’m not even going to try cataloguing all the changes because this isn’t even close to a straight adaptation. it’s told in the form of various documents collected by tacitus - the doctor’s diary, ian’s journal that he keeps to prove to the headmaster at coal hill that he and barbara haven’t just eloped (i’m not joking, this is the textual reason for it), an assassin’s letters home to his mum, nero’s scribblings, and various other little details. vicki and barbara get less attention than on screen because we don’t see much from their perspective (vicki unfortunately doesn’t even get to chase the assassin out, she just screams in this), and the nero assassination plot is exclusively confined to being mentioned in the epilogue. it’s also a lot broader, or at least consistently broader, which means that ian’s side of things is treated a lot more lightly (which i was personally fine with) but also that we still get nero’s predatory behaviour being played for laughs. there’s also a few comments about women early on that i was unhappy with, and use of fat as an insult. generally, though, i thought this was great! there were a lot of things that i don’t have space or time to include here but i really liked. i guess i’d consider this as a companion piece to the tv version rather than a replacement, which some of these do basically serve as. they tell the same basic story, but they’re so different in a lot of ways that i think it’s worth looking at both. i just checked my notes and remembered this so content warning: poppea sabina’s first section references suicide.

doctor who and the zarbi by bill strutton ok so i think the web planet is boring. i don’t know completely why, i don’t think it’s any one thing, it has some interesting ideas, but it is! it’s fucking boring! anyway, we have a bit more casual sexism in the novel, we’re missing that fun convo about aspirin between vicki and barbara, but really i don’t think it adds or changes much - like even the chapters correspond pretty much exactly to the tv cliffhangers. i guess it’s competently written prose-wise, but i genuinely can’t get over my conviction that this story is boring. am i being unfair? maybe! i like some of the early atmosphere, though, and i appreciate a book which refers to ‘the ship tardis’ (lowercase) and ‘doctor who’ throughout the entire thing. oh yeah, and i encourage you all to look up the illustrations for this. i don’t know who that woman is but she’s definitely not vicki.

doctor who and the crusaders by david whitaker ah yes, the infamous ‘susan married david cameron’ novelisation. tbh i don’t like the crusades and this has the same problems - i don’t care about the english, el akir is every orientalist stereotype whitaker could possibly cram into one man, and That’s Not How A Harem Works. do i think it’s the most egregiously racist doctor who story of all time? probably not! it certainly has sympathetic arabic characters too. but i prefer most other historicals, at least. however, if that isn’t you, i’m sure you’ll get something out of this. there aren’t any particularly extreme changes to the plot structure, although it’s missing some later scenes at the english court, but it’s well written and probably if you like the original you’ll enjoy it more than i did. there’s some dated language surrounding black characters, though, i’m not a fan of the whole ‘we aren’t so different’ speech ian has (because it rests on ‘we all believe in a higher power’ which uh. i don’t. guess that means i’m not ‘civilised’. also generally i don’t like the argument that we should respect each other because of what we have in common - you should respect other people whatever!), and the prologue at the beginning where they muse on history and destiny assumes that the english invaders and the arabs are both equally right in their own ways (the doctor outright says this!)

the space museum by glyn jones so, i really like the space museum. mainly for vicki’s revolutionary fervour, but there are other reasons too. however, i don’t think that this really adds enough to be of interest - although we do get some information about the two alien species’ biology, and a bonus explanation of why everyone speaks english (the moroks briefly considered invading earth so programmed some earth languages into their translation system). there’s a bit more wandering around the museum, some minor tweaks and expansions in other areas, an underground tunnel scene where we learn a bit of the planet’s backstory...ian and the doctor are very snippy to each other in this, which i find funny. oh yeah, and there’s a bizarrely meta bit where ian comments on poor dialogue? basically, this is a book i enjoyed, but really it just makes me want to watch the space museum instead of reading it. just a heads up, there’s a character who briefly considers suicide to get out of his bosses being angry with him.

the chase by john peel ok before i get started i need to establish that the cover for this one slaps. anyway, i don’t respect john peel at all but this was...alright? doesn’t expand much plotwise (although i suspect both the sand monsters at the beginning and the plants at the end have slightly more to do) but we get a fair bit of pov stuff. unfortunately lacking ian’s dad dancing and hi-fi the panda, the marie celeste bit is no longer played for comedy (barbara angsts over it) and even though the two paragraphs dragging morton dill are kinda funny i’m not sure how i feel about him being committed for claiming he saw daleks. ian and barbara’s departure plays out a little differently. steven is blond for some reason. we learn as well that daleks are charged by solar panels (at least they’re pro-green energy??)

the time meddler by nigel robinson pretty competent, straight down the middle novelisation, although that is tempered by inserting some weird sexist bits for steven and also lowkey being nostalgic for 11th century england at a few points? it’s also a bit more violent than we see on tv, and if anything the rape is more loudly implied, so heads up. other than that, there are a few minor embellishments (we’re explicitly told the dr and monk recognise each other, vicki tells steven that the tardis is important to her because it’s her home, a few differences between the monk’s tardis and the doctor’s are described, vicki views steven following her as a triumphant victory in their power struggle which i personally find funny), and there’s a prologue (recapping steven’s arrival in the tardis) and an epilogue (which delays the monk’s discovery of the broken tardis because he walks to hastings first to try and get involved there). i had fun, but it’s not a must read.

#doctor who #classic who #first doctor #susan foreman #ian chesterton #barbara wright #vicki pallister #steven taylor #laura reads dw books #target marathon #this took me aaages and i don't even have an excuse lol i finished uni weeks ago #anyway sorry if this is a bit rushed i'm literally leaving for somewhere in five minutes and i wanted to get this out first

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watery-lane · 5 years ago

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The Night You Cared: Epilogue.

Pairing: Modern!Ivar Lothbrok x Reader

Summary: She is back. For how long?

Warnings: Angst

Words: 5340

A/N: End of my first Ivar fict! Hope you guys enjoyed it xx.

Part I / Part II

Listen to: Stubborn Love - The Lumineers.

“He couldn’t even look at his parents faces after that. I swear to the gods, master students are just undergraduates on crack.” You rambled lightheartedly, phone on one of your hands and the heavy luggage rolling right next to you. “Oop, sorry.” You apologised to the old, white bearded man attempting to leave the building at the same time you tried to get in. “Thank you.” You mouthed with a smile and a scrunched nose, trying to look past the dark sunglasses of the man holding the door for you.

Ubbe released a short and breathy laugh. You could not see him, but you knew him well enough to notice he sounded way too distracted to formulate a proper answer to your anecdote. You knew he had things to tell you, bubbling under the surface like water about to boil, waiting patiently for you to finish with what you had to say as he always did.

Part of you already knew what he wanted to ask. As much as you loved Ubbe, his drive was wired the same way as all Lothbroks: business, business, business. Sure, he was located in the HR department and understood the way you saw things. But, as a Ragnarsson, he could not see your desire of avoiding a life between cubicles and constant phonecalls.

“Well,” you exhaled, “I’m officially back home.”

“In which hotel are you staying? I can pay you a visit as soon as I finish with these papers.” You could picture him letting go the papers on the table like white pigeons as he casually leaned back against his chair. You waited for the lift, eyes focused on the flicking numbers above your head.

Ubbe knew about your never recovered relationship with your parents. They never called you back, not even after the success of your new business was announced through local and regional media. Although for them, the news of you working for another sector other than theirs after the humiliation they had to endure at your graduation party may have felt like a slap in their faces. No one assisted to your masters graduation other than your remaining English friends. You did receive heartwarming messages from Aslaug and her sons, who apologised for not being there with you. It was a lonely ending for such an important stage of your life, but you swiftly got through it. Soon enough you got into a graduate scheme at the British council and a big part of you was relieved that you got to spend another year without facing the problems awaiting for you in Kattegat.

Now you had consumed all your borrowed time, leaving you drowning in the sterile sand clock you got yourself into, unable to put down roots in your hometown after your parents decided to pull them all out.

“Hotel Boneless and Co.” You mumbled through a dramatic sigh, stretching your arms up and puffing your chest as you heard the ding of the machine and the pop of your bones. You were carefully rolling your suitcase into the mirror covered lift when you heard the wheels of a chair rolling loudly on the other line. “I can send you my location if you don’t know where it is.” You joked as you pressed a button and stepped out of the lift.

Ivar lived in one of the top floors of the building and you perfectly knew it was a suicide attempt to try and climb the stairs. But the thing was, you spent your whole day sitting on your ass and the last thing you wanted to do was to use your legs even less. ‘I’ll just call the lift once I feel tired’ you thought. ‘Nobody is going to steal my suitcase anyway.’ You brushed your concerns off, feeling the cosiness of class privilege surrounding you.

“Does Ivar know you’re staying at his place?” Although his voice sounded carefree, cautiousness and apprehension vibrated through his cherry picked words.

Your breath got caught up right in your throat, unsure if it was due to the fourth set of stairs you just rushed through or because you had no explanation for your mad reasoning. You shut your eyes briefly, licking your lips as you prepared to speak.

“It’s not like the first time I left, I promise.” You mumbled, your pulse thumping in your ears as you tried to not exhale heavily through the phone. “We actually talked during the past year.”

Technically, you were not lying. You two did spend time talking, sharing your everyday anecdotes through video calls or short text messages. He told you with pride about how the company stock was rising slowly but steadily, or how he was considering therapy. For his legs. On the other hand, you showed him your improving cooking skills and tenderly warned him about not stressing over things he could not control.

Although, truth be told, that was nine months ago.

You were not to confess this, specially not to Ubbe, but although you tried, your conversations and overall relationship did not seem to endure the distance very well. Slowly withering like flowers deep into autumn, the last message you sent him was a picture of a smashed avocado toast you had for breakfast with the caption ‘The only thing I’m smashing these days smh’. A little grey bubble with the word ‘Yummy!’ seemed to be the full stop to your year long conversation.

It wasn’t until you stopped on the sixth floor, sore legs burning and short huffs escaping from your lips when you noticed the silence on the other line.

“That doesn’t answer my question, (Y/n).” Ubbe finally sighed, voice sounding tired all of the sudden.

“Well,” you strolled past the long corridor of the sixth floor, searching for the lift calmly. “we can consider myself as the best promotion gift he’s going to receive.” You smirked as you remembered the news.

A few months after your graduation you were informed by Bjorn about the death of Aslaug. You were told she died in a car crash, that the brothers were mourning, hence the lack of communication during those months. The oldest Ragnarsson did not seem phased about the news, which was understandable due to the lack of relationship he had with the woman. However, he was soon pulled into a legal battle between the Aslaugssons and Lagertha, with Ivar investing most of his time and resources in lawyers and private investigators, convinced that the death of his mother was planned. Because of that, he thought that the best idea was to leave Kattegat for awhile, investigating the markets of different nations to see if he could expand the legacy his father left.

You heard later on that Ivar won the legal battle after investing at least half of his wealth in lawyers and legal counsellors. In two days he was going to celebrate his rise, ‘just like a coronation’, Ubbe mocked, a bittersweet tone tinting his voice.

“(Y/n)...” Ubbe licked his lips as he leaned forward and rested his weight on his elbows.

“I know, I know, I should have called and said something,” you started to ramble, arms moving up and down as you got yourself in the lift, eyes locked on the lone suitcase left in the middle of the tiny space as you mindlessly pressed the last floor button. “but to be honest, would it really have been really necessary?”

“(Y/n). I can’t hear you.” Ubbe frowned as he started to hear your voice being cut repeatedly.

“I mean, it’s only been one year, what could have changed? What could he have done?”

“(Y/n).”

“Sell the loft his dear mother bought him? Developed a God complex? Join a cult? Get married?” You blew a raspberry, rolling your eyes as you heard the ding and saw the doors slide wide open.

At the other end of the line, Ubbe shifted his weight as he tapped his index and middle finger on the shiny table. Its a small gesture, but it helps relieving the pressure he started to feel on himself. At that time you reached the silver door, your virgin nails pressing down the doorbell as your ears processed the sweet ring that came with it.

“Ivar has... changed a little bit.” Ubbe mentions, not sure where to restart the conversation. He acknowledged he could have been a better brother to his little one, maybe they would have never reached this situation. “You will be surprised.” You kept yourself quiet for a moment, a discreet side smirk making your eyes squint.

“I’m sure I’ll figure him out.” You praised yourself, lowering your voice to a mere whisper as you talked to yourself. “I’m pretty sure we were built together by the gods anyway.”

“Huh?” Ubbe squinted, tilting his head as he could hear you talking under your breath.

“Uh nothing,” you fidgeted while you looked around, weirded out by the fact that Ivar did not seem to be at home on a weekend afternoon. Your free hand rested on your hip as you looked around, foot tapping rhythmically at the melody on your head as you pressed the button again. “Oh.”

“What?” Ubbe straightened his back.

For a mere second, your furtive eyes captured a swift move of lights and shadows slipping under the door frame, your eyes blinking rapidly at the sudden vision as you shook your head confused.

“I uh... I think I just saw someone... walking past the door?” You frowned, brushing it off as tiredness while you picked your stuff on the floor. “Never mind, I think he’s not at home. I’ll call Warwick and book a room.” You started to walk away from the door, suitcase rolling behind you as you strolled back into the lift.

“Oh wow, the little rich girl can only afford four star hotels right now?” Ubbe mocked, knowing perfectly you would be pissed at his comment, snickering as you told him to fuck off. “(Y/n)...” He called your name after your giggles died down, the sudden cold tone making you shiver with anticipation. “Have you thought about the offer?” He asked cautiously, not wishing to rush you into making any decisions. You already had a lot on your plate and something told him your stay here would end up breaking you.

“Ubbe... I—“ You hesitated. “I’m not going to lie, Haiti sounds nice and the job position sounds tempting.” Your inner cheek felt the bite of your teeth, your hips rocking forward and backwards as you stretched down. “but I’ve got things I wish to take care of in Kattegat now.” You smiled at your last sentence, the thought of your little local at the heart of your hometown and its co-owner crossing your mind. “I no longer need to run away anymore.”

At the other side of the door, a distracted Ivar calmly read the financial reports of the last months as he sipped whiskey neat, never raising his head while he put the glass down on the counter.

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know... a seller, maybe?” A sugary and melodic voice spoke behind him, bare feet squeaking on the wooden floor as she moved back to the sofa, carefree. “It’s okay, I don’t think she knows we were at home.”

“That’s not possible, sellers are not allowed into the building.” Ivar considers, eyes looking up as he processed who could have been. Since your departure and the death of his mom, with Floki and Helga away, nobody ever visited him much. His brothers would see him every weekday at the offices and Erik was only there when he needed a ride. Only Freydis was around now and that was completely fine by him. She knew what he needed. She knew how special he really was.

“It was this woman talking on the phone with huge suitcases, she must be selling kitchenware or insurances or something.” She responded vaguely as she stood up at the sight of her fiancé perking his head up after hours focused on his job.

“Wait...” He stood still, his sudden hunch making his stomach churn. He felt the bare arms of his loved one caress and hug his chest and shoulders from behind, the hypnotising and honey like scent invading his senses like an anaesthetic. Notwithstanding, that little annoying feeling in his gut never left. “Darling, where is my phone?” He asked, his fiancée leaving his side as she looked for the device.

SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK - Joji

You pursed your lips as you idly passed your hands over your gown, the sound of your heels clicking on the ground drowned by the numerous voices echoing in the tall, french style ceilings. You were pretty surprised your name was actually on the guest list. You had previously joked with Bjorn about being his plus one and how he was 88% sure he’d end up gods know were like Sigurd if Ivar ever saw you entering the gala joined by the hip, pretty certain Ivar did not know about your arrival. Guess you couldn’t surprise him anymore, cursing his brothers for telling him you were back in Kattegat.

The spot was not exactly like the one where your downfall took place, yet it filled your heart with the same sadness and anxiety, as if you were about to live another disappointment all over again. As you reached the main room, your walked more cautiously, as if the marble tiles were the ones marked and in charge of causing you pain if you took the wrong step.

“Nice dress.” You heard a feminine yet deep voice speaking to you, making you raise your head and brows.

The woman in front of you looked like a goddess. Like an actual goddess.

She could even be Freya, dark locks running free and caressing her shoulders, an aura of mystery covering her tall frame as she walked past an speechless you. Damn the wealthy and the powerful. Damn Ivar and his godlike contacts.

You couldn’t even say thank you, the woman long gone as she approached an oddly familiar old man at the other end of the room.

You shook your head in confusion, looking around trying to find any known faces to hold yourself onto.

“Well well well, look who we have here?” Your heart fluttered with joy as you saw the blond, long haired Ragnarsson approach you with the cheekiest grin in Kattegat.

“Hvitty!” You beamed, a shiny smile parting your lips as you reached for a hug. “Look at you, who’s the lucky one taking you home tonight?” You winked, hands grabbing the lapels of his suit tenderly.

“Well the night is still young, but I can put you first on the waiting list if you want to.” You released a careless laugh, throwing back your head as you cheerfully shook your head.

“I’m afraid my mind is already taken, baby.” You rolled your eyes, finally feeling the happiness that had been gradually dripping away from you coming back. “And this,” you pointed at your body as you twirled, “is a package deal.”

You noticed his blue eyes seemed way too out of focus for a brief moment, contrasting deeply with the airy laugh he released at your joke. You wondered what had he seen, body slowly turning back until you hear him talking to you again.

“C’mon, are you telling me you didn’t fool around in York?” Hvitserk raised his brow. Your lips parted, the ghost of a smile adorning your face as you shook your head.

“I love your brother, Hvitserk.” You confessed with a weak voice, not willing to let the rest of the party hear such open secret coming from your mouth. “I always have. I mean,” you huffed, shaking your head, “he’s a hell of a person to love, let’s just say I had to learn to love him.” You swore to the gods you had never seen Hvitserk, the most careless family member of the Lothbroks, look so concerned as he listened to you, his spark dying down as words left your mouth. “I— I know we’ve clashed for so long, and I’ve figured out that the truth is, we got to make sacrifices for the people we love. I resented him for so long because I thought he was selfish and he hated me at the same time because he thought I was selfish.” You took a deep breath as you reached your conclusion, ignoring how the young Ragnarsson kept looking behind you nervously. “And all of this was because... We were way too obsessed with the desire of having everything going your way. The night I let the past go was the best night of my life.” Hvitserk swallowed before looking at you.

“Is this why you decided to keep your share of the bar and reject Ubbe’s offer?”

“(Y/n?)” You felt every part of your body tingle at the sound of your name, blood rushing in your ears as you turned around. Your eyes were wide open, making their way up the suited up person that was now standing right in front of you.

“Ivar.” You whispered, eyes heavy and blurry sight as you hugged him tightly.

He hugged you back, the tip of his nose pressed against your head as he inhaled your scent, heart at ease and mind in peace at last.

“Ivar, look at you,” You cupped his face as you separated, lips travelling straight towards his. To your surprise he pushed away your hips slightly with his free hand, making you miss your target as you kept your hands where they were. “You can walk?” He nodded, eyes full of you and pupils so dilated to take you in better. Yet his face seemed expressionless, the force of his emotions hidden and tucked away.

Maybe that should have served you as a sign that things had truly changed.

“Yes, princess, I can walk.” He repeated, voice as soft as the touch that indicated you to stay a few steps away from him. You frowned slightly this time, your heart clenching painfully.

“Hey, you must be (y/n)!” A cheerful woman came by with Ubbe, who stayed behind her with a defeated look. Her little frame got close enough to pull you into her embrace, letting you know how glad she was of meeting you at last.

The two oldest brother exchanged a hardened glance, lips pursed as they observed how everything slowly started to crumble.

“So you’re the girl who made this guy human?” She stands by Ivar, puppy eyes looking up as if she devoted everything she had to him.

“I... guess?” You hesitated. “And you are?”

The petite blonde woman raises her left hand, showing a hard yet so fragile stone reflect every single beam of light in the room.

So bright were the reflections, they actually burned you down.

You could hear a lot of people talk and see her lips moving as if someone slowed down time, as if you died went to Hel with Hela and the doomed ones.

Then you looked at Ivar, his eyes never looking at you. That is when you noticed: you couldn’t read him anymore.

He didn’t seem to have only started a new chapter.

He started a whole new book.

You were pretty much out of the conversation at that point. You heard her name was Freydis, that she applied for a position as his assistant in the past. That she never thought she’d become the wife of the CEO.

“The nurse got really pissed when she heard he had been walking around without crutches before he started treatment.” Freydis said sweetly, hand on his chest as she caressed it with care. The statement snapped you out of your trance, eyes immediately finding Ivar, who shook his head slightly to the sides in an attempt to calm you down. He knew you were going to blame yourself for that. You were not at fault, in fact, you were the main reason why he tried to become better in every single way possible. Because that was what you deserved, because that was what you were. “He could have hurt himself with whatever he was attempting to do.”

Apparently, she also convinced him to get therapy for his strong mood swings and past traumas.

Little did she know, the decision came from Ivar after the last time he was with you. But you didn’t know that either and your heart broke a little bit more with every anecdote she told, every single story where she miraculously came and fixed the mistakes you made.

You could see how she was making him a better person.

“... But Ivar doesn’t really like to dance... yet.” It felt like a rambling at that point, a certain tint of fanaticism dyeing the conversation and turning it sour. You were tired at that point, eyes almost permanently stuck on the ground if it wasn’t from the tears you had to get rid of my looking up. You shot your eyes at him the moment you processed her last words, wondering expression etched on your face while he cleared his throat and looked away. It didn’t seem like him. You remember he used to insist on you to dance, like an ‘ordinary folk’.

The truth was, you never got to dance together. Too many things changed through the years, and there was this one thing he didn’t want to change too, which was how you were his first in everything worth remembering. Memories were simply sweeter with you in it. Because, as Freydis said, you made him human.

The thing was, he needed to be a God now.

He knew that you would be happier doing what you do, being free and helping people in ways he couldn’t even phantom.

Letting you go like this was the biggest sacrifice he will ever make.

To have you as a business partner would suffice, he always loved to watch you be you, working your ass off, to care so deeply about everybody like nobody else in his circle ever does.

“Ivar, Harald and Astrid are here.” Hvitserk finally intervened, the sight of your weakened state too much for your partner in crime to bear. Ivar nodded, sorry eyes staying a little bit longer on your hardened features before following his fiancée and brother.

“How was I not invited to the engagement party?” You asked to Ubbe, eyes still locked on your now ex’s back. Just like you couldn’t put a finger on when it started, you couldn’t really think of when your relationship ended.

“Cause it was nine months ago.” Ubbe mumbled, helping you put the little pieces together. You nodded.

“How?” You swallowed, not sure if you wanted to know. “How did they meet?” Ubbe pursed his lips, tilting his head tiredly as he sighed.

“She was a call girl Ivar used to hire regularly.” He tried to brush it off by shrugging. “I am not sure what happened, but Ivar started to get back to his old habits after you left. The only thing that remained the same was the local you guys own, he regularly checked everything was alright. One day Hvitty and I saw her leaving our offices, all suited up and everything.” You nodded, encouraging to keep going. “And boom, all of the sudden, after Lagertha’s trial, they were engaged.” He exhaled. You remained silent, feeling how a sneaky tear streamed down your face. “(Y/n)?”

“I think I need some air.” You whispered, stepping away from the oldest Aslaugsson and the rest of the crowd.

At least here out in the starless night you could blame your runny nose and teary eyes on the cold.

“Remember when we used to laugh at those sappy ass couples?” You asked out loud after standing by yourself for a while, heart more serene now that you took your time to accept that maybe you were not as good for him as you thought. You wait for Ivar to get closer, the sound of his crutches marking his distance rhythmically. You turn around and you can see concern itched on his features, lips parted as he looked down, checking the damage he had done. You force a smile instead, your fist hitting his shoulder playfully as you spoke. “Seems like you are one now.”

Ivar looked at Freydis slowly, who remained inside with Ubbe and Torvi, letting a sigh relief his chest.

“Yes. Yes I am.”

It was such a change of dynamics what Ivar experienced. With you, love and intimacy was never rom-com worthy. Love was roasting each other every other day, picking up on each others scars while making sure they never open again. Love was natural, fluid.

Now with Freydis, he seemed to need to prove her where she remained in his circle in a daily basis, lovey dovey words making sure she knew where she stood in his life. Truth be told, it was easier this way to love someone. He just needed to make sure to shower her with nice things, just like she did when she saw him doubting himself.

“How does it feel to be permanently tall now?” You asked, trying to change the subject as you felt the tenderness of his voice as he spoke about his future wife.”Don’t you feel like you’re going to fall at anytime?” Ivar smirks, resting himself in the railing you were pointing at.

“Nah.”

“What if I pushed you though.” You joked lightly, hand on his back as if you were truly going to do so. Ivar shrugs calmly before looking at you.

“I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time you make me fall.” You roll your eyes, remembering the conversation you had the first night where everything seemed to be in the right place.

“Oh, c’mon, I already apologised and I don’t even remember it.” You refer to that time you supposedly made him stand up for the first time.

Ivar smiled nostalgically. He didn’t mean that.

“You know I’ll be around if you need me.” Ivar promised sincerely after staring at you for what it seemed like an eternity, getting closer to you as you nodded weakly. “I have to go and give a speech now, please wait for me until I finish it, alright? Be there for me.” He placed a finger under your chin as he inspected your face, puffy eyes, blood flushed cheeks and pouted lips revealing the damage he had done.

He just wanted to ask for a dance, discreetly, before his wedding day takes away the chance of feeling you twirling around him on his last first dance.

His hand held your fingers tightly.

Rough skin never felt so soft, the warmth of his touch contrasting with the cold blue eyes staring at you. His brows were slightly furrowed, solely noticeable for the ones that dared to stand closer to him. Marks appeared on his forehead, horizontal lines crossing out the words his parted lips refused to let out of his mind. Ivar was holding himself back, letting the fire of his fears and yearnings consume him from within. Only his eyes exposed his introspection, your heart clenching as you saw him process his thoughts. It did feel like he was holding to you for dear life, not wanting to let go like a kid who caught his first butterfly.

Until he did.

He took a step back, glancing briefly towards your direction before parting, heavy steps ringing in your ears louder than the classical music playing in the room.

He was not going to leave.

But you knew, deep down, that he was gone already.

You followed suit and collected all your strength left to move yourself into the room. Your legs seemed to burn, unwilling to take you closer to the golden stage for someone to end your remaining emotional and mental health left with a few words.

You see from afar how he gets onstage with Freydis, who hugged his broad frame with care before he grabbed the mic. He started talking about his father, how everything started with him and how Aslaug maintained the business when he was gone. He talked about taking risks, success and investing in things that had value and fight for them.

"Enough about business, tell us about that piece of cake next to you!” A family friend shouted, his huge round tummy serving as a place to rest his hand, his braided beard caressing his exposed skin as he laughed.

Ivar, standing right above the crowd, seemed to throw daggers with his stare, unhappy that a drunk man interrupted his ceremonial speech. But next to him the woman he was going to spend his life with giggled carelessly, getting closer to him with the wish of her fiancé to sing her praises to everybody in the room.

“How did that woman you love ‘successfully invested’ in you!” He speaks again and at this point, Ivar is fuming.

You looked around concerned, knowing that your childhood friend was short fused and may do something that could trouble him sooner or later. It didn’t help that the rest of the crowd was laughing too, insisting on him to talk about his fiancée, asking for him to be vulnerable in front of everybody.

You saw Freydis calmly poking him with his elbow and how his eyes were about to pop out of his head. But then he leaned down and let her whisper in his ear and gradually, slowly, his mood seemed to change as the crowd quieted down at the sight of him clearing his throat and picking the mic to speak again.

You frowned, not sure of what poison did she give him for Ivar to suddenly change that way.

“See, you just need to show her something, something she’s never done before. Something that captures your attention, that is good enough to capture her soul. And — and she will take her time to learn” Ivar starts, eyes seemingly fixed somewhere far away from the stage. Somewhere like the very last lines of people standing in front of him, listening to him. “She simply makes something better out of it. Something brighter, even though you didn’t even think it could be possible. Even though you couldn’t even phantom you’d need so much light in your life, she proves you wrong, just like she does in every fight.” Ivar paused to chuckle, remembering the time he tried to convince you to hire strippers for the club.

Everybody laughed after a deep collective ‘aww’ and he can feel the person standing next to him shift her weight and getting closer to him with affection. But he already was way too deep into his memories, pulling out good moments and unsaid words for the public to see how consolidated his relationship was. His tone shifted at the same time he noticed from afar how you start to break down, eyes not being able to look at him as your chest trembled. He was not aware of the harm those words would do to you without applying his own context, yet he begged for you to figure out that everything he said, he said it about you.

“And...” Ivar swallowed, vulnerability starting to drip from every word he said. “And the thing is, she doesn’t even do it because of you. She doesn’t search for nobody’s approval. She just loves to make things better. That’s her gift, that’s her growth.”

Ivar finished and, for a brief moment, everybody remained silent. It took a minute, but then everyone seemed to burst into applause, everybody but three dumbfounded brothers looking at their youngest sibling as if he had lost his damn mind.

By the time he got closer to Freydis for a kiss you were choking in your own tears, your throat too tightly closed it seemed too difficult for you to breathe. Was this the reason why he wanted you to stay? To hear what he had to say about his fiancée?

You shook your head, searching for the oldest Aslaugsson in the crowd.

You had enough.

"Ubbe, do you have a minute?” You asked weakly, doe eyes looking at the ground for a brief moment before gaining your composure again.

“Yeah,” he apologised to the guests he was with “what’s wrong?” He moved closer to you, the glass of champagne in his hand and the conversation he was participating in long forgotten.

“You were right.” You admitted your defeat, your head high and your chest puffed out. “I accept the offer.” You managed to let out as you took a few steps back, ignoring the way Ubbe said your name, with pity and sadness tearing through you as if you were a poor broken toy. “Tell Hvitty he can keep my share of the bar.”

Part I / Part II / Sequel (Words Into Smoke)

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a-stone-world-saga · 5 years ago

Text

Senkuu talks a good game - a war without bloodshed - and it’s good for morale, but when Ukyou’s condition for siding with them is winning the war without a single life lost, Senkuu cannot in good conscience promise that.

War never ends without death. Tsukasa alone has already killed hundreds, if not thousands, and he and Hyouga combined are practically two armies on their own. To think the Kingdom of Science can confront them while holding back in any way is idealistic at best and suicidal at worst.

Besides, Senkuu cannot dismiss the possibility that it might come down to killing an enemy in order to save one of his. He doesn’t want it to, of course not, but the possibility is there, and a lifetime ago, Senkuu electrocuted the bullies who beat Taiju up when that big oaf charged in to try and protect him. Senkuu was nine at the time.

Now he’s twice that some days and four hundred times that on worse days, but that part of him has never changed - nobody touches what’s his and walks away from it without paying tenfold.

(Besides, Tsukasa literally killed him, and that alone wouldn’t be so bad, but he’d also scared Yuzu, threatened her, most likely would’ve killed her and Taiju if they hadn’t managed to get away, and surely that’s enough grounds for taking off the kid gloves.)

So when Ukyou asks, when he gives them an ultimatum that could very well be their death sentence, Senkuu looks him in the eye and says no.

“I can promise that my first option won’t ever be to march in and kill everyone who opposes us,” Senkuu says bluntly, ignoring the sudden hush around him as he stares unblinkingly at the visibly startled archer in front of him. “And I can promise that we’ll try our best to keep casualties to a minimum.”

His jaw clenches, and his spine stiffens. He thinks of all the people who’ve helped him get this far, who believed in him and his science on little more than faith. And he thinks of Yuzu and Taiju, deep in the enemy’s camp, and when it comes down to it, this was never up for debate.

“But I will also promise that nothing is more important than my people coming out on the other side of this war alive and in one piece, and if that means assholes like Hyouga and Tsukasa have to die, then I would cut their heads off myself.”

He glares hard at Ukyou, and the man twitches like he wants to take a step back. Senkuu isn’t surprised. He doesn’t get angry often, but a part of him seethes now at the very idea of someone thinking he should place the lives of those aiming to slaughter most of them and subjugate the rest on equal footing with the lives of those under Senkuu’s protection.

He doesn’t believe that all adults of the modern era should be wiped out for past sins, real or imagined, nor does he believe that the weak or foolish or whoever else doesn’t meet Hyouga’s standards should be eliminated. But he also doesn’t believe in equality for all. He is not that kind.

Outsiders who attempt to harm any of the people in Senkuu’s kingdom - the people he now has a duty to to place first - will never be equal to those who are.

“We could definitely use someone with your skills,” Senkuu admits, forcibly curbing his rage and tucking it behind something more laidback. “But even if we couldn’t, I don’t think you should go back to Tsukasa, and not just because having you as an enemy too would suck.”

He can still feel Tsukasa’s hands on his neck, even now. At the end of the day, no matter what aspirations he believes he’s working towards, the truth of it is - anyone Tsukasa can’t control must be killed, whether or not they fit his pure-hearted youth criteria.

“You’re free to stay,” He continues steadily. “And if you don’t want to help, nobody here will force you. But I won’t promise you what you want, and if that’s not something you can live with, then we’re going to have to go our separate ways here.”

Ukyou stares back for a long, disquieting moment. Senkuu can feel Kohaku at his back though, ready to strike, as reassuring a presence as always.

“You’d let me leave though?” Ukyou says at last, and there’s an odd note in his voice, some emotion Senkuu can’t name right away. “Go back to Tsukasa if I wanted to? Just like that?”

Senkuu shrugs, inwardly swearing. He doesn’t know Ukyou well enough to bribe him with some kind of science, and the only thing he’s asked for so far isn’t something Senkuu can grant. Losing a talent like Ukyou here wouldn’t be a devastating loss, but it’ll probably come back to bite them in the ass one day.

Still.

“You haven’t done anything yet,” Senkuu tells him. “Well I mean you kidnapped Chrome, but you returned him too, so we’ll call us even on that front. I don’t go after people for not doing anything, even if I think they’re making shitty life choices.” He narrows his eyes. “But if you go, and then you come back on Tsukasa’s orders or Hyouga’s orders or anyone else’s orders and try to shoot someone here-”

“-then I will slit your throat myself,” Kohaku finishes, finally shouldering forward to stand beside Senkuu. Her glare is much more intimidating than anything Senkuu could probably manage.

He smirks and jerks his chin at her. “So she says. I wouldn’t test her; she usually follows up.”

Kohaku grins, all teeth and no humour. She still hasn’t drawn her blade, but her hand is very obviously resting on the hilt, and nobody with half a brain cell would doubt her conviction in that moment.

Surprisingly, Ukyou only glances briefly at her before looking back at Senkuu again. It doesn’t seem like he’s dismissing her, but somehow, the tense line of his shoulders actually relaxes.

Senkuu cocks an eyebrow. He exchanges a fleeting glance with Kohaku, who’s obviously seen the same thing, and neither of them lets their guard down, until-

“I can live with that,” Ukyou concedes with only a brief grimace. “I don’t want anymore people to die, but I... I wouldn’t want you to lose any of your friends just because of that either. That’s more important. So long as you really try, that’s good enough for me.” He straightens, one hand coming up to touch the bow slung over his shoulder. “And of course I’ll help, if I can. Just tell me where you want me.”

Senkuu’s other eyebrow joins his first. He rakes a critical eye over Ukyou but he can’t sense a lie. “...Quick change of heart, huh?”

It’s Ukyou’s turn to shrug. His gaze slides briefly to the side, in the general direction of Tsukasa’ empires miles away, and when he meets Senkuu’s eyes again, there’s something defiant in the tilt of his chin and the resolute set of his expression.

“You’d let me leave,” He says simply. “So I’m staying, and I want to help.”

Senkuu studies him for a few seconds more and even glances over his shoulder at Gen - who nods ever-so-slightly - just to make sure, before finally letting the tension drain out of his body.

Well, it looks like he hasn’t lost this battle after all.

He looks over at Kohaku, who frowns a little but slowly eases her hand from her katana.

Senkuu turns back to Ukyou with a more genuine smirk this time. “Alright, welcome then. If you’re serious about that help, best be prepared to work your ass off.”

“He’s a total slave-driver,” Kohaku agrees with a sigh, twisting easily out of the way of the elbow Senkuu half-heartedly throws at her, and as if their banter was the cue everyone else was waiting for, they surge forward, Chrome beaming as he sidles up beside the archer - does that count as Stockholm syndrome? Senkuu wonders - Ginrou bouncing forward to poke nosily at Ukyou’s bow and arrows, Kinrou behind him, more suspicious but willing enough to give the newcomer a chance, and even Suika ventures forward curiously.

Senkuu falls back, snorting a little at the surprised, slightly overwhelmed look on Ukyou’s face as he’s more or less mobbed. Kohaku joins him, their shoulders bumping as they wander back to the lab, and Gen falls into step on his left a moment later.

“I’m still keeping an eye on him,” Kohaku grumbles. “He kidnapped Chrome.”

“He was telling the truth,” Gen tacks on lightly. “But it wouldn’t hurt to make sure.”

Senkuu hums his agreement. He’s pretty sure Ukyou won’t betray them, but precautions exist for a reason.

“I didn’t expect you to say all that,” Kohaku says abruptly, and both Senkuu and Gen glance over at her. She has her head tipped back, staring up at the sky.

“Do you disapprove?” Senkuu asks, though he’s pretty sure she doesn’t.

“Of course not,” Kohaku scoffs. “They threatened Ruri-nee and my home. I would kill them for that alone.”

“Oh?” Gen smirks, looking entertained. “Are there additional reasons you would kill them?”

Kohaku shoots him an arch look. “Obviously, that long-haired man can’t be allowed to destroy Senkuu’s Kingdom of Science either. We’ve put too much work into it, you know.”

“That’s true,” Gen agrees, voice gone excessively mournful. “I almost died making electricity the first time.”

Senkuu rolls his eyes at both of them. “Don’t be so dramatic. I feed you, don’t I?”

“Your ramen leaves a lot to be desired,” Gen huffs. “And your cola isn’t that great either.”

They reach the lab, and Senkuu pushes the curtain aside before waving them through. “I could stop, if you hate it so much?”

Gen pouts as he ducks inside. “...I suppose the cola’s not so bad.”

“And I love the ramen,” Kohaku adds as she ducks past him as well. “So you can’t stop, Senkuu.”

There’s a deeper meaning there, a weight in each word despite the lightness of her voice, and when Senkuu looks from Kohaku to Gen, their faces carry something equally determined.

Senkuu rocks back on his heels a little as he takes in the glass vials and beakers all around him, then smirks as his gaze returns to Gen and Kohaku. “Of course not. Our Kingdom of Science doesn’t fall that easily. Not with all of us here to keep it going.”

Kohaku grins, fierce and unwavering, and Gen smiles, less brazen but no less devoted.

Senkuu has always considered luck a fickle mistress. But even he can’t deny his good fortune when it comes to all the people who stand by him now.

“Okay then,” He rolls out the plans of their current military campaign. “Time to get the next phase rolling.” His hands slap against the surface of the table as he looks once more at Kohaku, at Gen. “We’re going to win, and we’ll ten billion percent bring everyone home alive.”

-0-

Later, at night, when he’s in the observatory because he can’t sleep, Gen’s dozed off beside him but Kohaku’s still awake, knees pulled up with her arms wrapped around them, leaning against Senkuu’s shoulder as they stare up at the stars.

“I didn’t expect you to say all that,” Kohaku repeats. “Earlier, with Ukyou.”

Senkuu hums noncommittally and watches her out of the corner of his eye. She has her hair down for once, and the spill of gold flutters against his arm whenever a new gust of wind rolls by.

“Problem?”

“You know it’s not that,” Kohaku huffs. “...I thought you were more like Ruri-nee. You have her self-sacrifice streak at least. I thought you would say something like ‘I’ll even let Tsukasa kill me if it’ll end the war peacefully’.”

Senkuu rolls his eyes. “First of all, that wouldn’t even work. Tsukasa would never leave people like Chrome or Gen or old man Kaseki alive. You too, you’re too much of a threat, can’t be controlled. And everyone else would have to acknowledge him as their king or whatever or they’d be killed too. And second of all, I don’t do self-sacrifice, I do logic. Is this about the sulfuric acid again?”

Kohaku’s head rolls back a little so that she doesn’t have to get off him to give him a pointed stare.

Senkuu sighs. “That was different. It was science, and sometimes, science demands a price. Evolution and progress usually do. Besides, it turned out fine in the end.”

His fingers twitch, bumping into Kohaku’s, and after a moment, he stretches a little to curl them around hers. Kohaku responds by simply flipping her hand and sliding their palms together.

“War is different,” He continues. “War is bloody and stressful and just ten kinds of fucked up. But war can also be predicted down to the smallest detail, and if we play it right, if we out-maneuver the enemy on every level possible, then at least we won’t have to pay for that.” He meets her gaze steadily. “I don’t plan on paying anything in this war. Tsukasa and Hyouga can shoulder that debt.”

Kohaku doesn’t immediately say anything after that. But after a few seconds of watching him with thoughtful eyes, she smiles at him the way she did the day they met, after she’d watched him build his pulley system to free her - a soft curve of her lips, quieter than her usual expressions but full of something warm and pleased.

“I agree,” She says, breaking eye-contact but only to settle more comfortably against him. Her hand tightens around his own. “Not coming home... is not an option. No matter what.”

Gen’s sleepy voice cuts in then. “I thought we cleared that up this afternoon, Kohaku-chan, Senkuu-chan. So can we please get some rest? I hear war is exhausting enough without sleep-deprivation too.”

Kohaku snorts with laughter, and Senkuu sighs, but he obliges and nudges Kohaku onto her back before lying down himself and pulling their blankets up around their shoulders.

“Finally,” Gen mutters, wriggling around to cuddle into Senkuu, and then he’s out like a light again.

Kohaku yawns from Senkuu’s right before also curling into him. “I suppose Gen is right. Goodnight, Senkuu.”

She dozes off pretty quickly as well, and then Senkuu is the only one still awake. But he’s warm and comfortable between Gen and Kohaku, and for once, his head is quiet and not quite so cluttered.

His eyes slip shut before he knows it, and he doesn’t wake until morning calls.

#dr stone #ishigami senkuu #saionji ukyou #kohaku #asagiri gen #oneshot #cross writes #kohasen #sengen #kohasengen #maybe?#i get more v-relationship vibes than a triangle for this one

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withered-rose-unbreakable-lotus · 5 years ago

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An unpopular opinion

I don't want to be that girl but, I will be that girl. Found a little something on twitter about why the Gazette is different from other bands and I have a few words. It’s not bad seeing sth in a band you see in no other, but, in my opinion (aka you are free to disagree) it’s bad disregarding every other band in their genre just because they don’t fit your taste. And before some sixth gun jumps on me to scratch my eyes out, I’d like to clarify that I am a sixth gun myself who’s shed many many tears during happy or sad moments of the band, like the rest of you. They matter to me, their music matters to me, etc. I’d also like to mention I am well aware of the fact the Gazette is the biggest visual kei name of their generation but hear me out... Below are some of my answers to what I found on twitter and, while I bring examples of bands I happen to listen to (because I don’t know many things for every single band out there (seriously, they are more than 800+ including the disbanded ones) to bring them as an example and I like having something to back my opinions up instead of generalized views), my answers cover bands that I don’t listen to, too, because I am sure they are in the scene for more than a decade for a good reason.

Ruki’s voice. Ruki has one of the most beautiful voices in the scene and one of the strongest. And we also were lucky enough to see its evolution through the years and see it at times it wasn’t at its best and times it was impeccable. The thing is, Ruki is not the only visual kei artist whose voice can resound in a stadium even without mic so it really surprises me when I see fans saying that they know no other person with such a strong voice in the visual kei world. A few examples of such voices (I’ll keep it to guys who are not over 1,68 cm since it was brought up too, compared to ruki’s voice, not that this has anything to do with vocal ability for me) are Ikuma (REIGN), Mahiro (Kiryu), Yo-ka (DIAURA), Haru (DOG inThePWO) and many more.

Uruha’s & Aoi’s chemistry on stage and guitar-wise. If you are a musician maybe you know more than me to correct me but whether two people complement each other or not is reaaaally a matter of taste for most of us. Personally I see Uruha’s & Aoi’s chemistry on stage, but becoming one, musically, not much. Mostly because Uruha, as lead guitar, has his guitar louder? It’s easier to hear Uruha than Aoi, especially the last few years and I don’t know if it’s the dvd or they really have Aoi’s guitar set that low. In the past, both guitars could be heard quite loudly but I don’t hear it much now. If you’ve been to their lives it will probably look, sound and feel different, but with a critical eye on a dvd, I can no longer see that much. But guitar duos who often play as one are a thing in the visual kei world, a few examples again: Mitsuki & Takemasa (Kiryu), Hiroto & Tora (Alice Nine), Kili & Peco (ex. AND eccentric agent).

Changing style but staying true to yourself is also a big thing in the visual kei world but the problem is some fans didn’t stay enough to see it. An example could be Alice Nine, who, after leaving PSC I believe, did lose a few fans due to expirementing with new stuff, but they recently brought back their old name, explaining their roots’ significance to them and that nothing has changed, which was evident even during their expirementation. Not all their fans stayed around enough to see that these guys are still the same. They changed looks, tried different music but they are still the same people. But then again Gazette lost some fans during their TOXIC era too (which album I personally like a lot), but were lucky to have enough fans to bring those gone, back when new stuff came out. I think they had several complaints with Malformed Box too. Anyway, another band who has not changed is DIAURA. Have you seen them live? Yes Yo-ka might be standing out a bit more than the rest, whereas, as some might argue, in the Gazette’s case every single one is standing out, but that doesn’t make other musicians less unique. Staying true to yourself is a thing several of them visual kei artists have been doing and still do, but it goes unnoticed, because it usually doesn’t happen alongside the rest of the band. Other bands that have managed to draw attention on every single member are Kiryu and Screw, the latter of which unfortunately didn’t go on.

And the last thing that really got me is those people who say the Gazette don’t just have fun on stage, they live it, they feel it, it is their home etc. Not because it’s not true, let’s be real, the passion is on and contagious and they love being on stage, it’s part of them, but stating that this makes the Gazette different from other bands makes me furious. Because most band members who’ve been on those stages for over 10 years sure could have given up and have a normal job, unlike other countries, Japan gives chances to people to work even with just their Lycium paper, but they didn’t. I’ve seen so many musicians have huge ass emotional breakdowns the past 7 years and disregarding those people because you never even cared to listen to them, or you did but didn’t click for you makes me furious. So many people considered suicide because they wanted nothing but that fucking stage (and mind you, they are talented) and the ability to express themselves, make music not just for them but for others too, people who want to save people, people who lost so much or have nth else to give them joy but that very stage...you cannot tell me those people don’t LIVE up there. Ikuma’s spine is not doing well and he still goes on that stage until his body gives in. Remember that video that Kai collapses backstage with his hands in a bucket of ice. That. Almost every day. Ikuma sometimes can barely walk after lives, his body grows numb but he keeps pushing himself because he loves it so much he doesn’t care what will happen to him. Do I think that’s cool? No, there are times his fans beg for him to take it easy but he won’t. When shit came up in his fanbase he handled it himself. He refuses to give his rights to a company because of how companies screwed his previous band. You want another example? Yo-ka. Yo-ka is also a person whose entire body goes on frenzy on stage, who collapses often because of it and who laughs at its fuckin face due to how much he loves the stage. I am sure you have heard many bands say “Let’s die on stage“. Some mean it. Some won’t drop it until they can’t stand. Because they live for that moment. For the excstasy of that moment. Another example, of someone who doesn’t drive himself numb on stage but just can’t give up is Kamijo. Kamijo becomes one with the stage and his emotions while performing. Versailles members have mentioned before that Kamijo gets lost in his emotions on stage often, which was what lead to the many falls he’s had live. Dude must literally feel like flying on there. Another one...Chiaki of DEZERT. Actually it was that very passion of this guy on stage that made me check them out. When I look for favorite bands I look for soul and the bands I have chosen so far, even after disbanding, most of them are still around. No I am not flexing, I am just stating how hard it is for some people in the scene to give up all this, even though it’s hard on their daily life and sometimes even health. When I saw Chiaki on Yoshiki’s Visual Japan Summit, I was enchanted right away and I wondered why they don’t upload more of their live videos. I had never even wished to give a listen to their music before that. They don’t have extravagant looks to stand out in this sea of countless bands, but they sure have powerful performance and amazing music. And another thing I’d like to mention about passion and life on stage is the tears. I don’t know who’s fake or not but when I see someone cry on stage I know it means sth to them. Ryoga of Razor when he announced Born’s disbandment, K of BORN, Kazuki of Screw, Rui of Articlear, Ikuma of REIGN, Peco (ex. AND) and the list goes on. You want to argue some are more sensitive than others? Fine. Tora of Alice Nine went on stage on a wheelchair because he refused to lose a live because he was hurt. Tomo of Vistlip rushed to get back on stage after his lung operation so the band decided to go on hiatus all together to support him and show him they will wait until he is ready so that he didn’t feel he was holding them back. I can bring up so many things so...before you say which band lives for that stage, give a wider look around you.

Each band and each band member is unique. Saying that this is not true because you can’t see it and your heart found shelter in one band is a choice. The Gazette too have gone through some real shit. From broken bones, to arguments with each other, with their company, having stuff stolen from them, defamation, struggling to put their name out there etc. But the Gazette made it. Hard work was one, yes, but luck was big part of it too, and signing with the right company at the right time. I think even one of them once said it, sth like “we just happened to be lucky back then”, I think it was Ruki who said it. One moment can change a person’s life dramatically and from then on, other factors that need work every single day. You can say they combine all of those things I mentioned above and that is what makes them unique, but we’d still agree to disagree. And as for chemistry, it is hard to find such thing among so many ideals. The Gazette still have their rough moments because of that. Did you read the interviews around the time the Ninth was released? Even after so long, Ruki said he feels like he doesn’t have friends and that the time after their 15th anniversary show was tough on him. The other members of course believed in him so they didn’t sound worried in their interviews on the matter but they knew how he felt. Aoi also mentioned that none of his songs made the cut for Ninth. All this, of course turned around again, as we all saw in later interviews but I can still remember how worried I was after reading this stuff and realized how fragile can chemistry among people be, even after years and years together.

Some musicians have found a team they could work with and others still try. Please don't cancel out musicians who just haven't found their team yet or worse, lost it during a heated moment. I am sorry if anyone felt insulted but....i am tired of this. Some of you think that other bands have it easy or only care about spotlight and girls but honestly...there is still more than that behind the scenes. I am not saying there aren’t shallow ones out there, but some still give their soul for all this. The vkei scene is dark and difficult and things keep going on with everyone. No one has it easy. Some lose themselves, become shadows of their former selves. I fear that for my favorite bands every day. I have found shelter in 64 vkei musicians, each one for a different reason, and I am proud of them. Whether they went big or not, whether they chose to start their life over or not (cause that’s another struggle on its own, starting over)...these people keep me alive or did keep me alive for as long as they chose to share their dream with us and I owe them big time. And I am sure there are fans out there who found their shelter in smaller bands and they are proud of them too. So...in case you feel shouting to their world you are proud of your favorite bands, do it without cancelling out others. Scream why that band is precious to you, not why it’s precious compared to other bands. Cause the latter is largely a matter of taste. I mean yeah, you do you, I can’t tell you what to do but you know...basic kindness? call it what you may.

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pleaserelaxslowly · 5 years ago

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Quarantined!

A 30 day song challenge from instagram that I decided to do. I didn’t post it though. As always, my playlists are for myself or for others as gifts. It’s not like I have anything else to do as I’m currently self-isolating due to COVID-19 trying to stay healthy and not carry anything if I’m infected but asymptomatic.

Day one A song you like with a color in the title: “Crystalline Green” by Goldfrapp A good start for a playlist

Day two A song you like with a number in the title: “700 Mile Situation” by Res A sadly underplayed song in my library

Day three A song that reminds you of summertime: “Resonance” by HOME Simpsonwave driving in the car in a summer sunset

Day four A song that reminds you of someone you’d rather forget: “Back That Ass Up” by Juvenile Mirna

Day five A song that needs to be played loud: “Horror Head” by Curve Driving in my car, volume all the way up to hear all the background and effects mixed low in the track

Day six A song that makes you want to dance: “Oranges” by Mark E Downloaded it and loved it. Boy Friend posted it on Facebook and captioned it “It’s the 90s!” Danced on ecstasy with several others at a party at Kassandra and Fatih’s apartment after I sneaked over to Fatih’s DJ setup and played it while he was away. Came over another day to find that Kassandra had been playing it on repeat

Day seven A song to drive to: “In the City” by Chromatics Driving after 4:00 in the morning through the backstreets of Detroit

Day eight A song about drugs or alcohol: “Heroin” by The Velvet Underground I did heroin once. It made me very sick and I never did it again. My very good friend at the time, Megan Cole (and another friend Melissa Nazarek), got addicted to it (and crack), and after leaving a crack pipe in my house, I was forbidden from seeing her again. After that we lost touch. I often wonder what happened to them, if they’re alive, where they may be now. Last time I saw, Megan had children and was married, living in the same city, working at a pizza parlor

Day nine A song that makes you happy: “Adult Oriented Cha-Cha” by Pizzicato Five Japanese cha-cha from the 90s. So strange. It makes me smile

Day ten A song that makes you sad: “The Spangle Maker” by Cocteau Twins The laying in a bathtub suicidal thoughts harrowing song. I wonder what they were thinking when they wrote this. I can only imagine

Day eleven A song you never get tired of: “Black Milk” by Massive Attack I’ve been playing this track since it came out. The first playlist that remains containing this track is the old “Karma Therapy” playlist from about 2000. The last time was when we took LSD on Büyükada in İstanbul (me, Fatih, Kassandra, Ubeyd, Mark and Annes) and Matt came along with a speaker and played our “The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, Part 2″ playlist with this song on it. We stopped on the way back from the woods headed to the AirBnB, and I was in a heavy head-space going through a low moment in the cycle. I sat on the curb with Faith, this song playing, and watched the stone gate across the street, each stone resembling a face twisting into a sinister expression

Day twelve A song from your preteen years “What Is Love” by En Vogue The first tape I ever bought was “Funky Divas” by En Vogue and I loved this track.

Day thirteen A song you like from the 70s: “St. Elmo’s Fire” by Eno I love Stereolab and found a great cover of theirs of this track, so I decided to check it out. No wonder they wanted to cover it

Day fourteen A song you’d love to be played at your wedding: “It Could Be Sweet” by Portishead I always imagined this song playing at the reception. I wouldn’t want the typical wedding garbage played at my wedding, more like low-key lounge-y stuff

Day fifteen A song you like that’s a cover by another artist: “Gruesome Castle” by Wild Nothing I almost chose “Sweet Jane” by Cowboy Junkies, but I love the original just as much. I opted for this one because I like it more than the original. My first summer in İstanbul with friends enjoying a full social life saw me leaving my apartment walking down the street to Kassandra’s house listening to this track

Day sixteen A song that’s a classic favorite: “Rhythm Is a Dancer” by SNAP! How sad that 90s tracks are now considered “classics”

Day seventeen A song you’d sing a duet with someone on karaoke: “The Closer I Get to You” by Roberta Flack and Donny Hathaway I love love love this track. In high school, my friends Kristen and Stephanie (who are black) laughed at me and said I like the music their parents listen to (i.e. 60s, 70s and 80s R&B). I don’t even care, I like anything that’s good

Day eighteen A song from the year you were born: “The Hand That Rocks the Cradle” by The Smiths February 20, 1984. Very close to my birthday

Day nineteen A song that makes you think about life: “If You’re Feeling Sinister” by Belle & Sebastian Riding on the servis to work in the morning thinking deeply about the lyrics and imagining other possible lives I could live

Day twenty A song that has many meanings to you: “Sullen Girl” by Fiona Apple Lots of sad nights alone, but also once I was told that a gay guy that I was interested in sat at Denny’s with another friend and they drunkenly sang this song together. I bought this album one summer staying at my grandfather’s house for vacation in Oklahoma. I saw the “Sleep to Dream” video on MTV and went out to buy the album and “Supa Dupa Fly” by Missy ‘Misdemeanor’ Elliott

Day twenty one A song you like with a person’s name in the title: “Steve McQueen” by M83 From one of the playlists I made of people’s names. Love how gay and dramatic this one is

Day twenty two A song that moves you forward: “Everybody Got Their Something” by Nikka Costa Great hopeful inspirational lyrics. ‘People keeping score so better hurry up and gets yours because somebody else has got your spot before you even try... Busy holding on so the roof don’t fly’ really speak to me. I saw the video for ‘Like a Feather’ and loved the sound and her voice

Day twenty three A song you think everybody should listen to: “Vista” by iamamiwhoami Chris showed me this group because it’s sad electronic music with female vocals (which he knows I love). I instantly fell in love, and think Jonna Lee could be way more popular than she is. It’s hard for foreigners to make it in the US. I shared her with my friend Holly, and Holly fell in love, and Holly’s not necessarily living for sad electronic music with female vocals in particular. It shows the power to transcend taste

Day twenty four A song by a band you wish were still together: “Bocca della verità” by Boy Friend After SLEEP ∞ OVER broke up, two of the members formed this band. In fact, I almost chose a song from SLEEP ∞ OVER, but all the best songs are after Stefanie Franciotti was alone, so technically not a band. Boy Friend publicly showed support for the LGBTQIA+ community, which I love. Sadly, they are no longer performing together. More sad electronic music with a female singer

Day twenty five A song you like by an artist no longer living: “Miss Brown to You” by Billie Holiday Such a sad life, and an even sadder demise. That’s how it was for blues and jazz singers in those days

Day twenty six A song that makes you want to fall in love: “Without Your Love” by The Venus Transmission A long time ago, I made a delicious (sadly now lost) playlist of thick atmospheric deep tracks for Valentine’s Day. This was on it, a lost jewel from the days of MySpace artists that never really got to see any serious success

Day twenty seven A song that breaks your heart: “Walk This Earth Alone” by Lauren Christy How is this different from day ten (a sad song)? Anyway, I can’t even ever really listen to this song the whole way through. I can’t get past more than a few seconds. As I write this list, I listen to each track I’m discussing as I type. For this entry, I paused the track, I just can’t listen to it. It’s from when I was a paperboy and realizing I was gay and feeling the worst, most loathsome, darkest, most hideous and violent, dangerous feelings that I never ever want to feel again

Day twenty eight A song by an artist whose voice you love: “Paradise (Remix)” by Sade It’s always a tie for me between Sade and Seal. I decided on Sade. Such a smokey delicious voice. I always say if Sade and Seal ever had a child, it would be over in the recording industry

Day twenty nine A song you remember from your childhood: “Calling All Angels” by Jane Siberry featuring k.d. lang My mom used to have a compilation CD called “In Search of Angels.” My mom loves the idea of angels and guardian angels. Her home is full of angel-related art and knickknacks. She probably bought the compilation from The Hallmark Store or some awful place like that. Either way, it reminds me of childhood. I used to steal the CD and listen to this track. It’s super adult contemporary and super soft-serve, but I like it anyway. Like I said before, if it’s good, I like it

Day thirty A song that reminds you of yourself: “Immature” by Björk This one was the hardest one. No songs really remind me of me. I don’t relate to music that way, I think. Either way, this does take me back to a time when I might have tried to get back with my ex-boyfriend Dan Lopez. Good think I didn’t, we are NOT good together

#30-day song challenge #playlist #play list #covid-19 #corona virus #coronavirus #quarantine #isolation #social distancing #stay at home

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cobythinks · 6 years ago

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I Don’t Do Soulmates || A Sanders Sides Soulmate AU

A/N: This is a long one, so most of it is under the cut. Also, be sure to check out my MASTERLIST.

Summary: Roman doesn’t do soulmates, even though he has three. Dalton doesn’t do soulmates because he doesn’t have any. Despite Roman’s best efforts, though, it feels like he’s destined to meet his soulmates one day. That doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Ships: Roceit, LoganxPattonxVirgil, platonic LAMP

WARNINGS: sympathetic Deceit, mentions of death, mentions of a car accident, food mention, swearing, depression, talk of self harm/suicidal thoughts. Nothing super explicit. Please stay safe!

Roman liked fairy tales. He always had. He loved the stories about the kings and the queens, knights, princesses that needed saving, evil stepmothers, fairy godmothers, dwarves, beasts, soulmates, and especially happy endings. When he was little, the bookshelves in his bedroom were dominated by various copies of the books and CD cases. His walls were covered in drawings of those stories - and sometimes stories of his own.

The day he found out that he was lucky enough to have three soulmates was the best day of his life. The thought that he could be a prince or a knight and protect someone who meant so much to him? That just fueled his creative energy into more. He’d write stories to his soulmates in bright red marker and pen, usually accompanied by illustrations.

Roman never once considered that most of his heroes had a tragic backstory. After all, that was just a story. Just something to make the stories more interesting. His life was fine - perfect even. He had three soulmates, more than anyone else he knew! Patton, who never seemed to use the same color of marker. Logan, who always used dark blue ballpoint pen. Virgil, who seemed to only own black and purple markers.

Even his parents only had each other, just one soulmate each. Unlike some antagonistic fairy tale parents, they were wonderful. They encouraged him in writing his stories - sloppily relayed to his soulmates across his arms and sometimes legs.

As far as fairytales go, Roman was sure he’d gotten the better end of the deal. He didn’t have a curse or a wicked stepmother, he had all the good.

At least… he did.

Roman was nine years old when it happened. It wasn’t anyone's fault, of course. Accidents like that happen all the time. It was January, and it was getting dark as they drove home from the movies on the backroads. No one could have seen the patch of black ice covering the road. No one could have stopped them from sliding, spinning off the road. No one, not even a prince from one of Roman’s stories, could have stopped his parents from dying.

After the crash, stricken with grief and confusion, Roman stopped writing to his soulmates. How was he supposed to protect people he’d never met if he couldn't even keep his own parents alive? He couldn't keep making them promises he’d never keep. So it would be best, he figured, to not. At least for a little while.

A little while turned into eight years.

“Roman, get your lazy ass out of bed!” Roman groaned, rolling out onto the floor. “Now! The bus will be here in five minutes and I am not driving you again!”

“Okay! God, Aunt Rina,” Roman muttered under his breath as he pulled himself standing, glancing with a frown at his mirror. He’d fallen asleep in his clothes again, not wanting to change and see the messages written there.

Not that he didn’t read them. Roman smiled sadly, pulling at his wrist to examine an intricate flower in black and purple. He read all the messages he got from his soulmates. He never replied. They didn’t deserve that. They’d stopped trying to directly contact him years ago, Roman wasn’t even sure if they remembered.

“ROMAN!”

“OKAY!” Roman yelled irritably, grabbing his backpack. One plus side of accidentally sleeping in his clothes and shoes, he could just leave his aunt's house as soon as he woke up. He hurried through the kitchen, avoiding looking at his aunt.

“Hey,” Roman sighed and lifted his head to look at her. She sighed. “Breakfast.” Roman caught the banana she threw at him and turned without replying, hurrying down the street to the bus stop. He stuck the banana in his backpack, halfheartedly planning to eat it at lunch.

His aunt wasn’t a bad person… they just didn’t get along. They never had, and it probably didn’t help that Roman had three soulmates he refused to contact. She had none. So, it was natural she’d be bitter and angry about it.

Roman slipped into the backseat of the bus and pulled up his sleeve, smiling fondly at the poem written in dark blue ink. Even after all these years, they used the same colors. Virgil with his purple and black - eternally edgy. Patton continued to supply different kinds of inks and colors - some complete with glitter. Roman sighed and pulled the sleeve back down, looking up moodily as someone else got on at the next spot.

He didn’t recognize them, they must be new. It was the beginning of a term. Roman sighed, watching as the kid looked around. Then they locked eyes, and for some god-forsaken reason he smiled and walked over, sitting across the aisle from Roman.

“Hey,” Roman grudgingly smiled. No reason to be rude - this guy hadn’t ever done anything to him. “You’re new, right?”

“Uh…” The kid shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I’m Dalton.”

“Roman.” Roman ran a hand through his hair. “Nice to meet you.”

“I guess.” Dalton sighed and shook his head. “You too.” Roman nodded, looking down as the pink Crayola marker traced the outline of a few hearts on the back of his hand. He shoved it into the pocket of his jacket, planning to check the finished design once he was alone.

“Are you in drama?” Dalton suddenly asked. Roman looked over in surprise, nodding.

“Uh.. yeah. How’d you know?”

“Your jacket…” Dalton shrugged sheepishly. Oh yeah, he was wearing the hoodie from the play last year. Roman smiled. “Is it hard? I kinda wanted to try out, but I’ve never really acted before…”

“You should do it,” Roman said, turning to face him better. “It’s really cool, and I think you’d do well.” Dalton frowned.

“You just met me.”

“Yeah,” Roman shrugged and looked at the floor. “Anyway, where’d you move from?”

“Oh, just a few towns over.” Dalton sighed. “I came to live with my mom and her new husband, and his kids. Long story.”

“Hey,” Roman held up his hands. “You don’t have to tell me, we’ve all got long stories.” Dalton smiled.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Roman looked at the back of his hand and smiled fondly at it.

Four hearts in a group covered most of it, and Patton seemed to be highlighting them with all different colors. Purple, navy blue, and sky blue… and red. Roman looked away and put his hands back in his pockets. Dalton didn’t seem to have noticed, he had turned to look out the window as they pulled into the parking lot.

“Do you have your schedule?” Roman asked with a sigh, grabbing his bag and standing.

“Uh…” Dalton rifled through his pockets and pulled out a folded paper. Yeah. “Logan just graduated last year, he made me a map…”

“Cool.” Roman tried not to think about the poem on his arm when he heard the name. Logan was a common name. “He’s…”

“My step-brother,” Dalton said as they slowly made their way to the front. “Like I said,”

“Long story.” Roman grinned. “Who do you have for first period?”

“Mr. Corey,” Dalton frowned. “Math. why did I decide to have math in first- nevermind.”

“I have him second,” Roman said. Dalton nodded, then smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry I’ve kinda bugged you all morning, uh… but thanks.”

“It’s nothing,” Roman, threw an arm around the other kids' shoulders. “I’ll show you where Mr. Corey’s room is.”

“You sit alone?” Roman’s head jerked up from where he’d been reading Virgil’s to-do list. He yanked his sleeves down when he saw Dalton. Dalton slid down the wall next to him, pulling out a paper bag.

“Uh, yeah,” Roman shrugged. “Gotta fill the quota for teenage brooding, y’know?”

“But like, you don’t have any friends?” Dalton seemed completely surprised. Roman frowned.

“I mean…”

“You just seemed like the popular kind of jock guy. Theater guy.” He corrected as an afterthought, pulling out a sandwich.

“Well, not everything is obvious.” Roman sighed, then dramatically pouted. “Are you saying you aren’t my friend?”

“Hey-” Dalton frowned. “That’s not fair, dude, come on!” Roman laughed, shaking his head.

“I’m kidding. Geez. You don’t have to sit with me.”

“I want to,” Dalton shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich. Roman watched him for a moment, then remembered his own lunch. The projectile banana from Aunt Rina. He sighed and grudgingly pulled it out, Virgil’s handwriting flashing through his mind.

‘Remember to eat’ he was always writing things like that. ‘Water is actually important.’ Whether it was for himself, or for his soulmates, Roman didn’t know. And he certainly never planned on asking.

“What do you have after lunch?” Roman asked as he peeled the fruit.

“Creative Writing,” Dalton replied. “You?”

“Do you have Bird?” Roman asked, face lighting up. Dalton pulled out the wrinkled paper, transferring Dorito crumbs onto it, then nodded. “Well, that’s at least one class we both have.”

“You write?” Dalton’s face lit up. “That’s cool!”

“I mean…” Roman shrugged and rubbed the spot where Logan’s poem still remained on his skin. “Kindof. I like to, but I don’t know if I’m good.”

“I’m horrible,” Dalton said matter of factly. Roman frowned.

“I refuse to believe that.” he declared.

“I am!” Dalton laughed. “I mean… I might not be horrible. But I’m not good. I’m nothing like…” he trailed off and shook his head. “Logan hates it when I compare myself to him. I can’t help it. Did you know he graduated a year early? He’s the same age as me, but he’s already graduated!”

“...yeah?” Roman tried to ignore thoughts of scribbled conversations between his soulmates. Talking about grades and accelerated programs in that dark blue ink. “Well, you shouldn’t compare yourself.”

“You haven’t read his poems,” Dalton put his sandwich down.

“Do you have any poems of your own?” Roman asked. “I don’t care about Logan, I’ve never met him. I want to read yours.”

“You… you do?” Dalton stared at him for a moment before he sighed. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? You could stop talking to me, and we’ve only known each other a day. Wouldn’t be that devastating.”

“What, you don’t find me absolutely charming?” Roman grinned. Dalton rolled his eyes, then pulled out a notebook and flipped forward a few pages.

“Just don’t make fun of me, okay?”

“Would a prince charming ever make fun of someone like you?” Roman joked, accepting it. Dalton chuckled.

“Prince charming, huh?”

Roman didn’t respond, eyes skating over the words on Dalton’s page. He was good, which meant he had really bad self-esteem or that Logan guy was amazing. Maybe as amazing as the one who used blue ink. He quickly banished the thoughts and looked up, grinning.

“This is great! Mr. Bird is going to love you.” He declared, passing it back as the bell rang. Dalton smiled, shoving the notebook into his bag as fast as he could.

“I want to read some of yours eventually,” he declared as they stood up. Roman shook his head.

“I don’t write poetry. I write stories.”

“Well, I wanna read your story.”

“You will, we’re required to peer edit in Birds class anyway,” he explained.

“You know what I mean,” Dalton laughed anyway. “Show me the way, then, Prince Charming.”

Roman ignored the slight flush to his cheeks when Dalton said that and nodded, turning into the English hall. What right did he have to think about this kid when he ignored his own soulmates, anyway?

Roman sighed, staring down at his bare arms. Well, no sleeves. They were in no way bare. Virgil’s morning to-do list was faded, and at the moment being ‘bedazzled’ with glitter gel pens in gold and silver. On the other arm, the poem had grown. Roman knew it had been open-ended, but he hadn’t realized it was just unfinished.

It was beautiful.

Everything they did was beautiful. Their drawings, Logan’s poems, just the way they talked to each other. They did more when they were younger before they exchanged phone numbers and started talking that way. Roman closed his eyes to block out the marks.

He didn’t want to talk to them. He’d just let them down. It was best that he hadn’t let a pen touch his skin in years. It was best that he just… avoided it. He couldn't break a promise he didn’t make.

And then there was Dalton. Roman sighed, running his hands through his hair. Someone who didn’t think Roman was weird, who didn’t know he was a depressed orphan who spent a summer in a mental health facility because he wanted to see his parents again. Dalton didn’t know. And Roman didn’t know about his past, they didn’t know each other's long stories. That was the best part about being friends with Dalton. The past didn’t matter.

Roman opened his eyes again and stared at the hearts on the back of his hand. They were beautiful. What started out as some kind of doodle - probably because he got bored during school as always - had somehow become some kind of 3D masterpiece. It was beautiful.

And there were four hearts. Roman ran a thumb over it, smiling sadly. Patton remembered him. There was no other reason to draw four hearts. God, why did he have to care so much? Roman buried his face in his hands, shaking his head. Why did he have soulmates? How could he have one soulmate? Let alone three! It didn’t make any sense! It had never made any sense.

“Hey, your aunt said you were-” Roman’s head jerked up in surprise. Dalton stood awkwardly in the open door. “Uh… sorry. You left your phone in the drama room, and…”

“Th-thanks.” Roman got up, letting his hair fall over his eyes to try and disguise the tears. “Sorry, you didn’t have to.”

“It’s okay.” Dalton shrugged. “Uh… are you good? Sorry I barged in, your aunt said it’d be okay.”

“It’s fine.” Roman snapped, tossing his phone onto the bed. Dalton frowned. “Sorry, D, you just came over at a bad time.”

“Sorry about that,” Dalton said quickly.

“Don’t be.” Roman grabbed his jacket and pulled it on. “What’s up?”

“Logan’s being an ass.” Dalton declared, leaning against the doorway. Roman snickered, turning to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He met one of his soulmates last week and ever since then he’s been super weird. Now the guy’s at our house and… yeah.”

“Oh.” Roman pulled the sleeves of his jacket down to cover his hands. “Sorry about that, buddy.”

“It’s okay.” Damien walked over and sat on the bed next to him. “I don’t care about soulmates, the guy’s just annoying. He keeps trying to hug me.”

“Wow, what a horrible thing,” Roman said sarcastically. Dalton rolled his eyes.

“Okay, whatever.”

“I don’t do soulmates either,” Roman mumbled.

“Well, guess we can complain about Logan together.” Dalton laughed, bumping him with his shoulder. Roman chuckled, nodding.

“Sounds perfect. You can come complain about him, and I can listen and nod slowly and agree.” He declared.

“What, you don’t have anything to complain about?” Dalton asked skeptically. “Like your crazy aunt who eats chocolate covered bugs?” Roman groaned.

“I told her that was disgusting.”

“It’s okay. You can complain about the bugs, I’ll complain about the step-brother. It all evens out.”

“Well, you’re better at math than me so that sounds right.”

Logan and Patton met. Roman didn’t care. At least, he tried not to care. But how could he not care? Why did he have to keep getting their marks if he didn’t want them? Why did they happen to meet at the same time as Dalton’s stupid step-brother and his? Why did he have to be so certain that Dalton’s stupid step-brother was his soulmate?

Roman sighed, staring at the ceiling.

He doesn’t do soulmates. He’d decided that… well, he never necessarily decided that. He just didn’t want to talk to them. He didn’t want to meet them. He didn’t want to disappoint them. It was inevitable that if he contacted them, he’d disappoint them. Besides… he didn’t need a soulmate. He had a friend - for the first time in years. And that was fine.

If only there was a way to get rid of the marks.

He’d spent the past three hours googling it, and he had nothing. According to science, there was no way to get rid of the connection between soulmates. He was stuck with it, and it was stupid.

“How’s that ceiling looking?”

“Ugh, I’m trying to brood Dalton come on.” Roman sat up, frowning. “How long have you-”

“I didn’t want Rita to offer me another weird snack.” Dalton shrugged. “Anyway, what are you brooding about?”

“Nothing.” Roman barely got the words out before a pillow smacked him in the face. “Hey!”

“Cut the crap, you dummy,” Dalton demanded, holding the pillow threateningly. Roman squinted at him. “What the hell is going on with you? You’re lucky enough to have three soulmates and you claim you ‘don't do soulmates’? You’ve been googling all about them for days now.” Roman sat with his mouth partway open, surprised. “I rant to you about my crap. Can't you just… talk for fifteen minutes about whatever it is?”

“...I don’t get it.”

“What’s wrong, dumbass.”

Roman sighed, shaking his head.

“How do you know I have three soulmates?” he asked. Dalton rolled his eyes and pulled Roman’s jacket off.

“Three handwritings,” he said softly. “Different colors. Come on, I’m not an idiot. Logan has two, and… wait.” Roman tried to pull his arm away but Dalton pulled it closer. “What the hell?”

“D, listen, I-”

“This is Logan’s handwriting. And Patton’s. What the hell is going on, Roman?” Dalton shoved Roman’s arm and got up, folding his arms. “My step-brother is one of your soulmates?”

“No.” Roman pulled his jacket back on and stood up. “I mean… yeah. It doesn’t matter, though. I told you before that I don’t do-”

“You don’t do soulmates, I get it!” Dalton yelled. “I don’t either. Know why? I don’t have any soulmates! You have three! I drew on my arms all the time until I was fifteen just trying to get someone to respond! You’re an idiot!”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Roman spread his hands miserably. “I never asked for soulmates… I don’t want to meet them! I haven’t drawn on my skin in years because I don’t care. Okay?” Dalton sighed, burying his face in his hands.

“I just… when you first said you didn’t do soulmates…I thought you were like me. I thought, that maybe, we could be actual friends. But…”

“I don’t have soulmates.” Roman insisted. Dalton looked up at him, eyes narrowed. “Okay? Just… I just have whatever they draw. On my skin. Like soulmates. But they aren’t. Please stop yelling at me.”

Dalton just looked at him, and Roman looked back.

“Logan has been studying soulmates for years.” Dalton finally said. “If there is anyone who can get rid of them, it would be him. I’ll ask.”

“Wait- really?” Roman stared at him. He couldn't tell if the feeling in his chest was sadness or elation. It was just something. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.” Dalton scoffed. “When you get Logan talking, he never stops.”

“Thanks.” Roman wrapped his friend in a hug and Dalton laughed, returning it. “You’re the best.”

“Yeah well, you better believe it. I’m gonna have to listen to all Logan’s crap to find this out for you.” Dalton laughed.

“I owe you,” Roman said enthusiastically. “I will get you five boxes of chocolate covered crickets.”

“If you do that, I’m gonna cut your hair off,” Dalton said, shoving Roman away playfully. Roman frowned but nodded.

“Okay, no crickets. I’ll think of something!”

“But before I go back to my house, where I’ll be forced to hear many many things that are irrelevant to the question I’ll ask, let’s go do something actual people do.”

“Everyone stares at the ceiling all day,” Roman said, waving a hand dismissively. Dalton rolled his eyes.

“Your aunt said she’d bring us snacks in fifteen minutes and if we aren’t gone I’m jumping out the window.” He said, turning to the door.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Roman chuckled. “Bye Aunt Rina!”

“Don’t get hit by a car.”

“So, you’re saying that hypothetically, you want to know how to cut off a soulmate bond?” Logan asked, adjusting his glasses.

“Hypothetically,” Dalton said, smiling winningly. “I figured you’d know, you’re almost an expert.”

“D…” Logan shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure that out for ages, too.” Dalton frowned.

“You just wanna know everything, cuz you’re an ass.” Logan sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Look, Dalton, I want to know the same thing you do. But scientifically, biologically, even spiritually which is a load of shit but I still looked into it, there should be no reason you stop having a connection with your soulmate.” Logan shook his head. “Why do you care? You don’t have a soulmate!” Dalton scowled, stepping back.

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I-”

“Shut up, you fu-”

“Dalton, I’m sorry!” Logan yelled, grabbing his arm. “I know you’re upset about that, and I get it. But no one can control soulmates. Anomalies happen, and that’s why Ro- and that’s why no one understands it.” Dalton frowned.

“I was asking for a friend,” he said, pulling away from his step-brother’s hands. “Because unlike everyone else on earth, he knows that soulmates are stupid!” Dalton stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Logan had been about to say a name, and he knew which one. How did he know who Roman was if they’d never met? If Roman hadn’t written to them in years? Dalton hurried down the street toward Roman’s house. He had to figure this out, he had to figure this out before he got in too deep. Before he got his hopes up.

“Hey Dalton,” Rina said when he walked through the door. “I didn’t hear you knock.”

“Where’s Roman?”

“Where do you think?” Dalton ran down the hall and slammed open the door.

“Holy shit-” Roman scrambled to get up from where he sat on the floor. “Dalton?”

“What are you-” Dalton’s eyes flew immediately to Roman’s hands. He scowled. “Roman!”

“What?” Roman asked bitterly, tossing the pocketknife onto his bed.

“What the hell are you doing!” Dalton stormed over and grabbed Roman’s arms, glaring at the handwriting scrawled across it in purple. The sentence severed in several places, and Dalton glared up at his friend.

“Listen, you can’t do this.”

“Go away.”

“No.” Dalton shoved Roman into the desk chair and pulled open a drawer, rifling through it. Of course, Roman had a stash of bandages in there too. “How many times do I have to tell you-you're-”

“An idiot! I know!” Roman snapped. “I’m sorry, okay? I just hate seeing Virgil’s stupid…” he shook his head and Dalton sighed. “Nevermind.”

“Logan knows your fucking name,” Dalton said, pressing the bandages over Roman’s arm.

“What are you talking about?”

“I asked him about the soulmate thing,” Dalton said, walking to the bed to pick up the knife. “And he got really upset. Logan doesn’t get upset. Apparently, he’s researched soulmates for a specific reason that he didn’t specifically tell me because he stopped himself halfway through saying ‘Roman’.”

“Yeah right.”

“So what’s your deal?”

“I just…” Roman shook his head and Dalton raised an eyebrow. “I can never talk to them. Okay?”

“...okay.” Dalton sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Please don’t do it again, Roman.”

“I’m sorry,” Roman muttered, rubbing the bandages. “I just…usually, no one cares.”

“Well I do, so stop being…” Dalton took a deep breath. “Please.”

“Okay, whatever.” Roman pulled on his jacket, concealing both the bandages and the Muriel covering his right arm.

Dalton leaned against his desk, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make things worse. He was always making things worse. But now, this time, he really didn’t want to make things worse.

“Why do you care?” Roman asked softly. Dalton sighed and looked up at him, offering a small smile.

“Cuz I’m in love with you, dumbass.”

Somehow, Roman was less bothered by the marks on his skin than ever. He barely noticed them, most of the time. He kept his arms covered - though sometimes their doodles would creep onto his hands, but he didn’t mind. After all, who needed a soulmate when you had a boyfriend who wasn’t fated to love you anyway? It was still difficult because Roman did care about the people writing on his arms. But he didn’t have to be involved with them, right? He could still laugh at the puns Patton might scribble in green marker, he could still use Virgil’s to-do list as his own if he was having trouble. He could still read Logan’s poetry, though it wasn’t as good as Dalton’s.

“We’re out of milk.” Roman sighed, slamming the fridge shut.

“I live a block away, let’s just make cereal there,” Dalton said, standing up with his bowl. Roman snickered.

“Do you have milk? What if we walk all the way there and you guys are out too?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Dalton rolled his eyes.

“We always have milk cuz I’m the only one that drinks it. My step-dad is lactose intolerant.”

“Let’s go.” Roman grabbed his own bowl and Dalton chuckled. “We’re going out, Aunt Rina!”

“Have fun and don’t murder anyone!” Rina yelled back. Roman rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but grin as he and Dalton walked down the sidewalk. He grabbed Dalton’s hand, ignoring his boyfriend’s protests.

“It’s fine,” he promised. Dalton raised an eyebrow. Roman grinned. “We’re just two soulless guys who happen to be dating, right?” Dalton rolled his eyes.

“Right.”

Dalton led the way up the front steps and into the kitchen, where he put the bowl down and pulled a gallon of milk from the fridge.

“Tada! I was right.”

“I didn’t doubt you,” Roman scoffed. Dalton laughed, pouring his milk before doing Roman’s as well. “Aw, for me? You’re too kind.”

“Dalton?” both looked up when someone poked their head into the room. He was tall and pale, with black hair and glasses. Roman knew it was Logan, he had a purple grocery list on his left arm. “I thought you were going to be at your boyfriend’s house.”

“We were out of milk,” Roman said, lifting his bowl. Logan stared at him, lips pursed.

“Don't worry, geez.” Dalton waved a hand. “We aren’t gonna bug you guys. I told you soulmates are stupid.”

“Good.” Logan adjusted his glasses. “We’ll be in the living room, you can manage to stay out of that room can’t you?”

“Yeah.” Dalton looked at Roman and rolled his eyes, Roman chuckled. Logan sighed and left, shaking his head. “...that’s Logan. I told you he was an ass.”

“I still believe you,” Roman promised. “You’re stuck with me, understand?”

“Thank god.” Roman glanced toward the hallway when the doorbell rang, but Logan answered it almost immediately. Dalton chuckled, elbowing him as they heard a chipper voice start to ramble. Roman wasn’t really listening until he heard him say;

“And this is Virgil!” Roman stiffened, and Dalton gently leaned his head on Roman’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he whispered softly. Roman frowned. What exactly was he referring to? He opened his mouth to ask, but then the owner of that chipper voice bounced into the kitchen.

“Hey Dalton!” he said, beaming. “Oh! And Dalton’s handsome friend!”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Dalton said, narrowing his eyes. Patton laughed - it had to be Patton.

“Awe! Hi, I’m Patton!” yep, it was Patton alright. Roman smiled, nodding politely.

“Patton, Dalton promised not to bug us, and-” Logan sighed as he walked into see Patton trying to hug both Roman and Dalton at the same time.

Roman pushed him away, feeling his heart race. This was not a good time to be at Dalton’s house, obviously. Shit, he never wanted to meet his soulmates and now all three of them happened to be here.

“Oh, sorry!” Patton chuckled, stepping back.

“It’s fine,” Roman said in a soft voice. Dalton took his hand, smiling supportively. Roman frowned. What was with him right now?

“Well, I guess you've met Patton.” Logan sighed. “This is Virgil, he’s our... other soulmate.” He walked in, followed by a short teenager with purple hair and a black jacket. Just like Virgil would most definitely look.

“This is my boyfriend,” Dalton said as he squeezed Roman’s hand. “Roman.” Roman’s head swiveled and he narrowed his eyes. Dalton just smiled back sadly. The other three just stood there for a moment.

“...that’s a nice name.” Patton finally said. “I’ve always liked it, anyway.” Roman self consciously rubbed his arm through his jacket sleeve, knowing that a purple grocery list was on his arm just like the other three.

“Yeah, well,” Roman shrugged. What else could he say? He looked back at Dalton, who was obviously trying to convey silently that he should do something. But Roman had no idea what it might be.

“Erm, anyway,” Logan chuckled nervously as Dalton’s eyes flicked between Roman and the group of others. Roman scowled. Dalton could not be serious. They were dating for crying out loud! “Nice to meet you, Roman. Dalton’s boyfriend.”

“Dude.” Dalton hissed. Roman glared at him.

“Let’s just pop in here,” Patton was obviously forcing a smile as they all went to the living room. Roman turned to Dalton.

“What the hell!” he hissed. “Dalton, what was that!”

“Roman, they’re your-” Roman raised an eyebrow and Dalton lowered his voice. “They’re your soulmates. You should at least tell them.”

“No, are you crazy?” Roman shook his head. “I can’t. I told you that a month ago, D!”

“What did they ever do to you?” Dalton demanded. “I just want you to make sure you’re happy, okay! I care about you!”

“Then why did you try that?” Roman demanded.

“Soulmates are real, Roman. They’re a thing. We’re really close, but I know you wish you could be with them! I’ve always known!”

“No, I don’t.” Roman insisted. Dalton frowned, folding his arms.

“Why?”

“They’d be disappointed,” Roman said, repeating the lie he’d told himself for years. Dalton snorted. “They probably don’t even remember me and-”

“You know they do. You saw their faces when I said your name!”

“Well, I don’t care!” Roman yelled, pushing Dalton away from him. Dalton stared at him, eyes filled with hurt. “You don’t get it, Dalton. I can’t risk letting them down!”

“How can you let them down if they don’t even know you?”

“I just will. It’s inevitable.” Roman sighed, burying his face in his hands. Neither of them seemed to realize they’d been shouting, and that it had attracted the others back to the doorway. “Besides, I’m as good as dead to them. I haven’t let ink or paint touch my skin since I was nine years old.”

“Roman-”

“I’m serious! You said it didn’t matter! You said that we didn’t need soulmates, so why are you doing this?”

“ROMAN!” Dalton grabbed his wrist and shook his head, pointing to the doorway. Roman turned, eyes widening. All three of them stood there, looks of shock on their faces. Roman pulled away from Dalton and shoved past them, refusing to make eye contact. He tried to say something to his boyfriend as he left, but it was like his voice stopped working. So he just left, and as soon as he left he started running to get as far away from there as he could.

“Roman!” Dalton went to run after him but Logan grabbed his arm.

“Dalton, what’s going on?”

“Let go, you fucking asshole!” Dalton yelled, karate chopping his stepbrother in the arm.

“Language!” Patton said indignantly. Dalton rolled his eyes.

“Dalton!” Logan tightened his hold and Dalton sighed, glaring at him. “Tell me right now what you know about this.” Dalton closed his eyes, shaking his head.

“I can’t.”

“It’s obvious. Let him go.” Virgil said, pulling Logan away. “Your step-brother is dating our soulmate. Duh.”

“...why? How? What?!” Logan’s voice rose in volume with every word. “Dalton, how long have you known that?”

“Since the universe was created,” Dalton said sarcastically. “Can I go? Roman’s upset.”

“At you.” Logan pointed out. Dalton glared at him.

“Hey, why don’t we all calm down?” Patton said softly, stepping between them. “Dalton? Can you please talk to us?”

“Roman was my friend,” Dalton said softly. “Then he was my boyfriend. I’d seen all Logan’s marks often enough to figure it out. So we talked. Roman…” he sighed, closing his eyes. “Whatever you guys did when you were kids made him hate you or something.”

“What? We didn’t do anything!” Virgil snapped. “He’s the one who just disappeared.”

“I don’t know!” Dalton shoved past Logan, shaking his head. “But he’s my boyfriend, not yours! So I’m going to go find him to make sure he’s okay!” he took off, running to the street. He couldn't see Roman. He had no idea which way Roman went.

“Dalton, please!” Logan said from the porch. Dalton didn’t turn around to flip the bird, then decided Roman wouldn’t want to be found, so he sprinted away from both their houses. He turned left, running up the street. “Dalton!” Dalton kept running, trying to hold back tears. He had to find Roman before he did something stupid. God… what if Roman was going to do something stupid?

Dalton didn’t stop when Logan’s car pulled up next to him. Where would Roman go? He wouldn’t go back to his aunts' house, he hated it there. He might have run to the high school to hang at the theater… maybe?

“Dalton!” the car pulled in front of him and Dalton stumbled to a halt, glaring at the people inside.

“What?”

“Let us help you.” Patton leaned out the window. “We can find him faster driving, okay? We aren’t going to steal your boyfriend.” Dalton narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah right.”

“We just want to make sure Roman’s okay.” Virgil piped up, opening the back door. “Get in, and tell us where he could be.” Why Dalton trusted Virgil more, he wasn’t sure. But he clambered into Logan’s car anyway.

“I don’t really know,” he confessed. “When Roman’s upset we usually just go for a walk. But he’s mad at me this time. I’d check the high school theater.”

“On it.” Logan hit the gas and drove toward the high school. “While we’re driving, can you please explain why Roman hates us?”

“I don’t know. It’s not my business,” Dalton shrugged. “But he doesn’t hate you. He just… doesn’t want to meet you. He doesn’t like the idea of soulmates.”

“Really?” Patton asked sadly. “When we were kids he seemed so excited about us, and then one day he just stopped writing. He used to write stories to us, like fairy tales.”

“I don’t know!” Dalton snapped, glaring at him. “We just need to find him before he…” oh god. Please don’t let Roman try anything.

Roman stared blankly down at his arms, where yellow writing appeared a few minutes ago. At first, he’d thought it was Patton. But it wasn’t. It was one of Dalton’s poems. He must be writing on one of the others. Roman reached up and brushed tears out of his eyes, taking a shuddering breath. He’d been about to cut again - but he couldn't break one of Dalton’s poems. Was that why he was doing this? Classic. Why did Dalton care, anyway? How could he care if he didn’t have to, according to fate?

“Stupid Dalton,” Roman muttered, then felt horrible. Dalton wasn't stupid, he was Roman’s best friend. More than that, his boyfriend. So why did he do what he did? Why did he tell them he was the fourth soulmate? It wasn’t fair. Roman didn’t want this. He didn’t want anything.

“Roman!” Roman’s head jerked up and he stared in surprise as Dalton tumbled out of a car, sprinting across the parking lot. “What are you doing here?”

“...sitting.” Roman sighed and looked around the strip mall.

How did he end up here, of all places? Dalton fell to his knees next to him and grabbed Roman’s arms, inspecting them worriedly. There was nothing but the healing scars from the month before. Roman sighed sadly.

“I’m so sorry.” Dalton suddenly pulled him into a tight hug. Roman’s eyes widened, but he returned it. “I know you didn’t want to meet them, but I thought…. I thought it might make you happy if you just tried. I just want you to be happy.”

“It’s okay.” Roman sighed softly. “I… I don’t mind meeting them. But I still love you… you know?”

“You do?” Dalton sat back and grinned, wiping tears from his cheeks. “Really?”

“Of course! You’re stuck with me.” Roman repeated, then looked over Dalton’s shoulder to where his three soulmates were standing near the car. He lowered his voice. “Do they hate me?”

“No one hates you.” Dalton scoffed, sitting against the wall like he had that first day in the cafeteria. “They’re just worried. Virgil let me write to you, y’know.” Roman looked at his arms, nodding.

“Thanks. I’ve always loved your poems.”

“Do you want to talk to them at all?” Dalton asked softly. Roman scowled.

“I’m not gonna break up with you unless you want me to.” he insisted. “So yeah, I can talk to them. And you don’t have to worry. Alright?”

“Sounds good.” Dalton looked over at the others and nodded. The three of them walked over and sat down, completing a circle on the sidewalk.

“Hi,” Roman said softly, staring at his hands.

“It’s so good to meet you!” Patton said, beaming. Roman smiled.

“You gave us quite a scare,” Logan adjusted his glasses. “Dalton was very upset.”

“Like you weren’t.” Virgil scoffed, elbowing him. “Anyway, Roman. I’m just glad you’re okay. I always wondered what happened to you.”

“Oh, that,” Roman sighed and shook his head. “I didn’t mean to vanish… I just took a break from writing and never… finished the break.”

“That’s alright,” Logan said matter of factly. “Statistically, only sixty percent of soulmates ever meet or actually enter any kind of relationship. Half of those people remain only platonic soulmates.” Roman smiled.

“Well good, cuz I’m taken,” he said, elbowing Dalton. Dalton elbowed him back, harder. “Hey!”

“You started it.” Dalton shrugged. Roman chuckled.

“Anyway, I’m sorry for vanishing. Just got in a funk.”

“Well,” Logan stood and brushed off his pants. “Would you like a ride home? You walked quite far.”

“Sure.” they all stood now, and Dalton took Roman’s hand as they walked to Logan’s car. “Thanks, really.”

“No thanks needed,” Logan waved a hand. “Just don’t hurt Dalton or I will run you over with this instead of giving you a ride.” Roman’s eyes widened.

“Okay, geez.”

“Wow, you care about me?” Dalton laughed as they got in.

“Of course I do.” Logan scoffed. “Just because I am, as you so eloquently put it, ‘an ass’ does not mean I don’t care about you.”

“Good to know,” Dalton muttered, leaning his head on Roman’s shoulder. “Hey, why don’t we go hang out at your house Roman? I bet your aunt has some good bugs to serve as snacks.”

“Oh my god.” Roman glared at him. “You know those are disgusting.”

“I don’t want to know what you’re talking about.” Virgil declared, shaking his head. Dalton laughed, smirking up at Roman. Roman smiled, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Maybe things would turn out okay after all.

The End

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cuteksg · 6 years ago

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(r)amen to that - son wendy

wendy x reader

college au, fluff, humor

word count: 2180

based on the ‘it’s exam season and i just found you trying to drown yourself in a bowl of ramen noodles’ au prompt.

for someone with the composure and tranquility of a single parent trying to control their four year old’s temper tantrum at the local supermarket, you were handling exam week quite well.

you were only halfway through, and had yet to have one of your famous bathroom mental breakdowns.

it was probably due to the choice of your major, english literature. in your opinion it didn’t require as much of you as some other majors (cough engineering cough) did. your research paper on 19th century british literature was due this friday, and even though it wasn’t finished in the slightest (procrastination problems), the urge to sob pathetically and watch reruns of seinfeld had not occurred thus far.

maybe for the first time in a while, your mind had become the strong entity it used to be during your childhood years once again, living without a single worry and always knowing how to be happy.

or maybe the above statements were all lies and you were actually so fucking stressed your brain had shut down, giving you the illusion that you were the living and breathing form of the word ‘serene’.

with your friends, you had a ninety nine percent chance of knowing exactly what was going on in their minds, ever the over-analyzer.

when it came to you, you had no damn clue.

so in times of self doubt, or more accurately times when you over analyzed your own mind’s behavior and got extemely confused, there was really only one solution.

ramen noodles.

entering your favorite ramen place in the entire world, ‘on campus ramen’ (an extremely creative name you decided), you found it pretty packed. just like you, tons of other college kids came here to drown their exam week worries in huge servings of ramen in all kinds flavors. you looked in the direction of your usual booth in the back and found it occupied. as almost all of the booths were taken, you sadly had to settle for the worst: a booth left from the counter, a little further in the back and right next to the toilets

apparently, this was your lucky day.

you sat down reluctantly on the dark red cushions, your back against the wall with a view on the entrance of the restaurant. it was hard trying to ignore the foul stench penetrating your nostrils, so you shoved a sweater covered hand under your nose, the smell of your fabric softener doing the deed of not making you gag. ordering a bowl of steaming hot ramen would take over all your senses completely, so it’d probably be best to call over a waiter asap.

your eyes found a server about twenty feet away from your booth, and while your were lifting your hand and coming up with several ways to make the waiter notice you, a loud noise that sounded like mixture of a splash! and a clunk! at once emerged from your left, making you jump and whirl your head to the source in an instant.

there you found a girl sitting all by herself, covered in the biggest yellow hoodie on the planet, long brown hair making it impossible to see her face. that and the fact that her entire face was inside a bowl of chili ramen. little bits of soup were dribbling down the edge onto the tray, and one of the chopsticks she used rolled off the table and clattered to the ground.

your first reaction to sight was, just like any other person would’ve had, a stiffled chuckle that you tried to cover with your hand. the girl was so tired she literally fell asleep while eating. it was the funniest thing you had seen all month in your boring college life, and you had the right to laugh.

that laugh dissipated pretty quickly as you heard incoherent mumbling coming from the bowl that sounded an awful lot like some sort of cussing. your eyes dropped down as you caught movement coming from her hands; they were formed into fists and kept clenching and relaxing, and that again and again and again, until you full well knew that the girl wasn’t asleep at all.

instant worry filled your veins, (also feeling a bit weirded out by someone trying to swim in their ramen) and you slowly scooted to the end of the booth. with hands on your knees you leaned forward carefully, as if approaching a wild animal.

you cleared your throat, unsure how to approach the sitiuation.

“uhm..”

the girl kept mumbling.

“hello?”

no response.

“hey, are you ok?”

you sighed, she probably didn’t even know you were talking to her, too caught up in her ramen. so you reached forward, tapping her lightly on the shoulder as the jumped a little in shock. her grumbling stopped, but her face remained in the bowl.

your ears caught something along the lines of ‘what do you need’ coming from her mouth, and a small breath left your lips.

“just checking on you, seeing as you’re literally trying to suffocate yourself.”

she huffed loudly through her nose, forming bubbles in the soup. after a few silent seconds she spoke up. “i’m fine.”

“if ‘fine’ means attempting to let ramen and soup block your windpipes, than sure.”

“windpipe.”

you frowned, what kind of response was that? “i’m sorry what?”

“it’s windpipe you only have one.” she chuckled humorlessly, and you swear you caught her trying to push her face even further into the bowl.

“doesn’t mean you’re still lowkey trying to commit suicide in a ramen place.” you sighed, scratching your head. “i’m just looking out for you.”

“no need to.” she brought her hands up to the back of her head and grabbed her hair tightly, clearly frustrated. “i’m going to die either way this week, ramen or no ramen.”

this girl was very dramatic, you concluded. you blinked twice before dragging yourself over to the other side of the booth to sit down in front of her. you rested your chin on your palms and looked at the girl amusedly.

“i think you’re taking the whole ‘drowning yourself in food’ a little too literally.”

she snorted louldy at that, and then proceeded to choke as she accidentally snorted some soup too while she was at it.

her head shot up out of the bowl in a millisecond, a lone noodle plastered onto her cheek and she began couging wildly, catching attention from some bystanders who peered at her with curious gazes.

you reached over the table quickly and started patting her back, locking eyes with a worried waiter who immediately went to the kitchen to fetch some water.

“you weren’t lying when you said you were going to die, oh god.” you said, an amused lilt to your voice. “guess your dream’s gonna come true.”

the girl only looked up and glared, all while she was trying to cough her lungs out.

the waiter returned with a glass of water, ramen girl grabbing it clumsily and spilling some of it on the ground and her clothes. she then took a big gulp, swallowed, and sighed in relief afterwards, before coughing again. this process went on for a few minutes, finally coming down from her coughing fit right before she was about to repeat it all again for the fifteenth time.

“i warned you, didn’t i?”

at that her head shot up from where she was previously staring down at the table tiredly, and you were finally able to see her clearly. the first thing you noticed, is that her eyes were pretty. extremely pretty. they were big for a korean, chocolate brown, with an almost almond shape to them. it was probably the worst time to be entranced by someone’s eyes, seeing as her gaze was nothing but tired, a little irritated, and desperate for something. you didn’t know what for.

“you should’ve just let me drown” she mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and jutting her lower lip out slightly. a single noodle was still plastered to her right cheek, and her face was greasy from the ramen.

cute, you thought.

“wouldn’t i be guilty for that if i let you?”

“i don’t care,” she shrugged, “i’d be six feet under by the time you would be captured.”

you scoffed, having no response to that except for a semi antagonizing, semi amused look.

“why were you attempting to swim with your face anyway?”

somehow that dumb question made her heave a big sigh, as if she was trying to breath out all of this week’s worries.

“economics man,” she started, throwing her head into her hands distraughtly, “fucking economics..”

“you fucked economics?”

“no,” she propped her head on her hands, glancing tiredly at the pathetic lukewarm bowl of chili ramen, “it fucked me, right in the ass.”

you stiffled a chuckle. “and i suppose you didn’t like it all that much?”

“didn’t you just see me trying to drown myself?”

“hmm, that’s true.”

you watched silently as she looked up and locked her eyes with yours, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips formed the most adorable scowl you’ve ever seen (something you never knew scowls could be.)

“please don’t stop me from ordering another bowl and making a second attempt, i’m in the depts of despair.”

“oh i definitely will stop you.” you stated. “i don’t wanna be charged for murder.”

ramen girl gave a disapproving look, narrowing her eyes at you for just a second, before slamming her head into the bowl once again. the table rattled due to the force of it, and you captured the attention of the people in the booths near you. again.

“no!” you shot up out of the booth and grabbed her head forcefully, lifting it out of the bowl and up to your face to give her a stern look. “don’t drown yourself!”

something in her broke, and she grabbed your hands that were holding her face tightly, looking up at you with tired eyes.

“i’m.. i’m so done”

you gazed at her a sympathetically, finding the situation worrisome but slightly amusing too and squeezed her hand. “i get it college is hard, but we all hav-“

“no you don’t get it!” she huffed out desperately, “economics is trying to kill me. literally kill me. at this point i’m seriously considering dropping out and living the rest of my life as a nomad, trekking the planet and living off of berries i collected along the way.”

“that’s oddly specific.”

“i have back up plans for everything.”

“scoot over.” you demaned.

she shot you another look with those wide expressive eyes of hers, this time looking a bit puzzled, but she didn’t question you and scooted over to the right side of the booth slowly.

you sat down and turned towards her, hands that were previously holding her face now holding her hands in her lap. “look, i don’t know you but trust me when i say that you’re gonna survive this.”

“but-“

“no buts just keep listening.” you insisted. “college is difficult and mentally draining, and fuck, i know that it asks a lot of you, but just know that it’ll all be worth it in the end.”

“you’ll be able to find better jobs and make money and live on your own. you can work and stuff and okay maybe woking doesn’t sound that wonderful, not wonderful at all really, and wow okay i’m bad at giving advice, but just hang in there!”

she looked at you amusedly, chuckling sadly.

“that was terrible.”

you smiled slightly in response, reaching out and patting her shoulder awkwardly “i know.”

you sat in silence for a second, one hand still holding hers before spreaking up.

“can i make it up to you by buying you a fresh bowl of ramen?” you asked, “one you’re not gonna drown yourself in?”

she lifted an eyebrow at you, somewhat entertained by your question. “asking me out already? taking advantage of me in my weakened state?”

you spluttered out something incoherent. caught off guard by her straight forwardness, you could think of only one response.

“not when there’s still a noodle on your cheek.”

it was her turn to be embarrassed, cheeks reddening slightly and her hands frantically searching for the noodle, pulling it off her face quickly when she found it.

she cleared her throat and sat up straightly, fixing her stature and looking you straight in the eyes. “okay, but tell me your name first.”

one corner of your lips lift up lightly, and you extended your hand. “i’m _____.”

she pursed her lips, peering playfully at your hand for a few seconds as if trying to tease you, before grabbing it and looking back up at you.

“wendy.”

and of course your gay self couldn’t help but think that the name suited her perfectly.

“well okay wendy, about that bowl of ramen?”

she smiled at you, a full smile that made the other corner of your lip lift up too.

“chili flavored please.”

“and you promise you’re not gonna try to drown yourself in it this time?”

“promise.”

#red velvet #kpop au #kpop imagines #red velvet au #red velvet imagines #girl group imagines #girl groups #wendy #wendy red velvet #son seungwan #son wendy #kpop college au

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fgodestinyawakenings · 6 years ago

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EOR SE.RA.PH Singularity: Act 4

Leaving the final Act and epilogue... Hopefully this can be done before going back to JP, especially given Reines Case files is ending way earlier than Seraph. I’m heading out for Doujima in the weekend, and grinding for Eater X is going to be hell

Act 4 (1/4)

After beating Caesar... It’s still not surprising that there’s more Servants left on the rear side, Cat. Then again... At least no one fell for his smooth-talking this time round. If anything, yes, Cat is one of our iron chef in Chaldea Kitchen!

Gaining Lip immediately as Tamamo Cat’s next disciple... Thankfully she avoided going to actual Beni-Enma’s Hell’s Kitchen to learn. Seeing Melt happy for Lip being able to speak up without worrying on other’s opinions, she eventually appreciate Gudas for not killing her back then. And that’s no way to shoo Emiya Alter away, Cat!

Cat’s case is still surprising for me so far. None of them are Alter Egos class yet potentially to be one... Or given in Lostbelt there’s already one debatable to be either Assassin or Alter Ego. Something that surprise Melt never realized it until now, except Lip

Melt then explained to Cat what part of BB they were based on as she and Lip are completely different from each other. In basic term, Melt is a sadist and Lip is a masochist which hence they are a good pair to each other.

Emiya Alter returns once Melt finished revealing more about herself, asking if Suzuka is the only Sentinel left. With Melt’s guess on where Suzuka is, our next destination is to head for the spine

Before Emiya Alter suggest we take back BB’s advice to defeat Suzuka again the same way we defeat Lip. But, aside from the issue Suzuka has with the original Tamamo... Hope Tama Cat has a way to beat her down then

Act 4 (2/4)

A dead end instead of a path to the Spine... A good question to learn.... It turns out Sakurament is basically QP where BB make us do the dirty work to collect all even if it’s not necessary. Yeah, I didn’t church allowed sending asshole Arnold to talk to us too, Cat

No shit, we don’t even know about Seraphix in the first place. Anyway, looks like Arnold got the map of the Planetarium we’re looking for. I think he’s more than just cog in the machine, Emiya Alter.... But, we’ll need to settle that later. I think there could be worse people to be in charge, Melt...

Though, we got 25 hours+ left aka 15 minutes before Seraphix sink to the bottom. Thank you for your concern, Lip. But we need to focus on the bigger issue to find Suzuka and get to the planetarium. Guys, Gudas really appreciate your concern for them, BUT LET’S NOT DO SOMETHING CRAZY AS DECIDING TO THROW THEM OUT FOR SERVANTS TO EAT AS MUCH I’D LIKE TO!

And despite their bickering or so, both Lip and Melt are really close to each other. Or, at least once they develop more sense of self and others, they really care for each other a lot. Also again, you’re hiding something, aren’t you, Melt? Nevertheless, we’re still trusting you, no matter what

After Melt giving another talk to the Gudas about herself, we move on to find Suzuka!

Act 4 (3/4)

Reaching to the temple soon... We’re definitely close with Tama Cat confirming her presence. Emiya Alter briefly mentions about who Suzuka is and her historical deeds in the past. To be honest, I don’t know who’s real or not but Tamamo originally IS a nine-tail fox.

Lip’s turn to mention about her tragic love story that she was known for. Yeah for someone supposed to be intellect, I’m guessing all of it went to her high school chunnibyou. Though have to admit, her strength is something with her bloodlust craving for fights.

At the mention of Masters.... WE DEFINITELY HAVE NOT SEEN A SINGLE ONE ASIDE FROM GUDAS! What the hell?! This is still one of the biggest mystery that has been yet to solve...

Anyway, reached her temple at last. Suzuka is right there all ready to kick our ass again. Before that, where’s your Master, Suzuka? .... Okay, looks like she don’t even know who her Master is.... Regardless, we’re not letting you touch Tristan to settle your score for the Holy Grail.

5~6 turns later... That’s some fucking gimmick to keep herself alive until the finals of the Holy Grail War. Wait Melt... Before we throw that key away, there should be a way to use it from that defective AI. And shut up, Arnold! Spectators should just keep quiet and watch!

And you, Suzuka! Are you okay being that stupid, useless and inferior AI’s Servant?! YEAH, I’M CALLING YOU A FLUNKY, CHUNNIBYOU! Tama’s right, you’re nothing but a puppet to that stupid AI right now! If you’re really planning to follow your Master’s wish, then let’s end this properly!!

Thanks to Tama Cat’s trap... Time to unlock her heart! I’m feeling sorry for Hakunos at this point.... Relax we don’t event want to do this. Blame the fucking writer who needs everything to be a sex scene.

One showdown of Suzuka and her boyfriend Hijikata later.... Not so fast on the dramatic suicide, Suzuka! Yeah, you’re definitely way too dramatic, Suzuka! There’s such thing of people dying of a broken heart... But, you’re perfectly fine! For a previously married divine goddess, there’s nothing about you like a high school girl...

Argh enough drama! Cat, do your job and smack-talk some sense into her! And we’re the winner, so we decided you get to live or not. And, we take the former of you living to join us! I’ll pass on your friend request... Social media been avoiding weird people to add later on Facebook in particular

Before we go back, another earthquake? Wait... This is..... The Demon God Pillar Zepar!! Why the---What the fuck?! It turned the whole area upside down!! We’re saved, but Melt took the hit for Gudas!!!

I don’t think they can understand us, Lip! And if we’re at the lowest... Oh fuck that’s where Zepar is supposed to be reborn!!!

Eight hours before we bottom! And we’re already long before you start yapping, Arnold! We’re going to save Melt, so no, we’re not going back without Melt! Lastly, you’re not even the boss of us so peace out!

Suzuka’s direction is helpful now we can get back to business. Enough of arguing who’s coming, and don’t you implied Lip’s weight, Suzuka! It’s just you and Gudas, so do your job properly.

Meanwhile, Melt woken up to remember she fallen while saving the Gudas. The Rejection Calf aka the Disposal area... Her legs broke from the fell back there. Her body has really hit her limit ever since the arrival of Gudas. Closing her eyes, she reminiscence her memories with the Gudas and more about her true thoughts.

Thankfully, the Gudas picked her out of there before she got destroyed once and for all. Gripping tight of her hand and ignoring the harem yapping, we got to get out of there before 3 Shapeshifter, 3 Eaters and 1 fucking giant Rider boar coming at us!!!

.... And there’s more! Yup, I agree with you there, Suzuka. THIS IS COMPLETELY FUCKING BULLSHIT!!! Hey, don’t forget the rope to get us out of there!! And... The rope was cut?! What the hell?!!

But... Tristan is here and he managed to save us! Oh right, you flew with that harp of yours in Halloween event.... That’s another way to get us out of there, or not. Let’s create a camp session until someone picked up up. Tempting to beat Arnold, but that’s a goner. Wait, Cruel Thenar... Melt’s former workplace? .... I guess a pathetic AI decided to use her brains for once to save us

Ah typical loser who decided to squish the final two contestant just to get her reward. Well, where’s our supposed next battle with you? Now? Yeah yeah, you may have a certain thing like Tiamat, Goetia and so on. You’re in the end just an AI who felt the need to better herself than everyone at how fucking weak you really are. A sad case, truly.

Hold on, mistake? Weren’t you the one started this whole stupid mess?! How the hell did things fucked up!! And knew it, obviously she’s going to send us down than up

Meanwhile... Good thing Arnold’s not a Master, otherwise, I’d like to see him the first Master get betrayed and screwed by his Servant. Considering he heartlessly get both his Director and Deputy Director killed... And now trying to get Gudas to obey him by force

And since Emiya Alter is here? Or the one who betrayed us too.... Yeah, thank you for doing everyone a favor to kill him. It’s about time someone needs to kill off that irritating character. And Mable? Oh why her?! Wait... You killed them to prevent Animusphere experiment...?

But the voice that attacked Emiya Alter... OKAY WHAT THE FUCK? That’s like an interior of a demon pillar! I thought we killed that!! This person talking to Emiya Alter is someone he knew well, given how they now spoke about themselves...

And the bloodied past, of Emiya Alter... Taunting him as the whole screen now turned bloody too. So, they are the ones who killed Gawain too! Whatever Emiya Alter have his reason, he needed to kill them in our world since he already know what they will be like in a certain distant future.

Act 4 (4/4)

Definitely right at the bottom of where Melt’s workplace originally is... At the most painful landing ever. Melt then explained Cruel Thenar was once a place to excavated oil... Aka finding leylines in truth. Oh, you want us to enter your heart?

That makes things easier in a sense. Nah, it’s fine, it’s more annoying to beat around the bush, Lip. Yeah we got the key after we ripped off from that AI before falling down. Well... At least, we got a job to do. Oh please, not all of Gudas are interested in woman. There’s this called of “I’m gay and my life is hell in a harem manga”, so there. With Lip’s advice, time to enter her heart to unlock this area!

And WE’RE FUCKING DONE WITH HER! DW just give us a fucking Anti-Alter Ego class already!!! But with that down, Melt then showed us a way to the Planetarium via her territory. And.... We’re back at the front! That’s enough rest, you’re coming with us back to the church. So keep quiet or we’ll drop and break your legs here!

No one is here to greet us... Where did Mable and Arnold go? What the... Emiya Alter is not even here! Before that... Some AI dropped a nice invitation to go beat her up. Hey, it’s not like we didn’t beat her over and over again like she deserved it under Martha’s punch.

That’s right, Tristan. It’s gone far too long for this Holy Grail War. With Melt back at the chapel resting, we head off to the core to get Ruler Martha, Amakusa and Jeanne to gang up on her.

After we left, Melt then begans her own monologue. Thinking there should be a way out for Gudas, she hope Suzuka, Tristan and Cat eventually found a way to do so.

And really done for the day... Literally.... Because all my energy was wasted in walking with an eventually broken shoe, running back to my house to wear a new one before heading for my interview is gone. Plus, today’s also happened to be one of the many worst days.... I’m going to need sleep before grinding some quest for KP

#fgo #fate grand order #the shit I shit myself into #SERAPH singularity #SERAPH NA #at this rate one is going to be sacrificed for another...#and that's very tempting to skip JP at this point #but I'm already nearing to the end....#i'm really worn out... OTL

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guildielove · 6 years ago

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happy birthday f. scott! in honor of your memory, we shall recall all your worst mistakes over the course of your life. let’s go!

meechi. an exaggeration...but for those interested in wanting to learn more about this complete garbage can on fire, here are a handful of facts i have learned over the year that i find absolutely riveting:

-- when scott’s father lost his job, it was an incredibly debilitating blow for the fitzgeralds. scott remarked that, on the day that his father got fired, scott’s mother and his father were about to get into argument over how to properly feed and take care of the family. before they could get into it, however, scott’s mom gave scott himself some money in order for him to leave the house and buy whatever he wanted. six-year-old scott had looked at the money, considered, then gave it back to his mom, stating that they needed it more than he did. -- when he was kid, at some point, him and his buddies began playing detective and tried to go after some kid that scott was angry at for being some romantic competition...this ended with the kid’s mom calling the police on scott and his friends, who had to get up and gET THE FUCK OUTTA THERE. -- scott was a tallow eater and ate his birthday candles well over fourteen years of age -- lMAO THE POOR GUY HAD NOBODY COME OVER FOR HIS SIXTH BIRTHDAY PARTY AND I’M STILL SAD -- when a professor (at Princeton) began to reprimand scott in front of the class for his chronic tardiness, scott puffed out his chest and began basically stated that it didn’t matter since he was quote-unquote “a genius” and all -- scott still ended up dropping out of princeton, supposedly for malaria. actually, it was to serve as a way to soften the blow from falling out due to horrendous class grades. he even sent a letter to the headmaster requesting that his malaria should be the official reason for him dropping out...the headmaster conceded but not without stating, ‘in consideration for your sensitive feelings...’ -- f. scott went into both football AND basketball, but according to a biography, he cared for neither...he simply did them as a means to gain popularity. -- he was dreadful at both, you should know -- once, while in france, during a party, scott got SO drunk he couldn’t walk home and needed a friend to help him out. well, being the dramatic ass that he is, scott collapsed outside the building with a sort of indication that he wanted his friend to carry him home instead of merely acting as his crutch. the friend didn’t put up with this, however, and told scott to stop acting like a child and get up. -- zelda’s father was NOT a huge fan of scott by any means...hell, before scott and zelda got married, there is a noted anecdote in which scott pretty much begged ON HIS KNEES for zelda’s father to believe in him...zelda’s father, in response, said, “Scott...I believe...you will pay your bills...” -- SCOTT WAS A HORRENDOUS SPELLER. and his grammar was just as bad...although a lot of people noted scott’s literary talent, his linguistic mistakes and weakness in exploring abstract considerations made a lot of them believe that he was, well...rather uneducated. -- apparently, when he was six-years-old, a group of kids wouldn’t let scott play with them, turning him away. in fact, they LITERALLY said, “go away, scott, we don’t want you here,” or something -- oH, SCOTT ALSO HAD SOMETHING OF A BURN BOOK WHEN HE WAS A KID. he was really just writing down observations about people, but...that’s...that’s what it was... -- once, at a party, zelda (who was taking quite the mental downward spiral at this time) had laid down on the road and told scott blankly to run her over. scott, who was drunk and...thinking that she was just bluffing...actually took this challenge up and tried to...yup...run her over with the car. zelda, of course, wasn’t kidding and didn’t move nor was scott getting out of the car. it took his friends to drag him out of the driver seat in order to save zelda from being fucking ran over. -- husband of the year award goes to... -- sPEAKING OF CARS, SCOTT ONCE NEARLY DROVE HIM AND HIS FRIEND OVER A FUCKING CLIFF BECAUSE HE REFUSED TO FOLLOW THE CURVES OF THE ROAD, DRIVING STRAIGHT. WHY? “because it seemed more fun” WAS HIS FUCKING REASON. -- scott had this thing of calling people ‘egg’ and rating them by the small titles he gave before each and every utterance of the word: ‘good egg,’ ‘rotten egg,’ etc. for reference, egg was ‘20s slang for a rich or well-to-do person. -- scott suffered from insomnia as early as his 20s and was medicating on sleeping pills for the time...however, over the course, i suppose his body got used to the drug and the pills just stopped having the intended effect. -- scott really loved coca-cola...like...really loved it...when he was laying off drinking, he would drink coca-cola in the stead of alcohol. when shirley temple first met scott during his time spent as a screenwriter in hollywood, he was in one of those states in which he was trying to remain dry. she never knew it was the same f. scott; the only thing she remembers is how impressed she was, as a little girl, of how he could be able to drink six cans of coca-cola in ONE sitting. heck, she still thought it was impressive as an adult. -- white boi couldn’t dance. -- well, he could, but it was ‘inaccurate,’ as put kindly by one of his biographers -- although f. scott DID hold anit-semitic views (a white man? racist??? improbable!), one of his mistresses, a Miss Shielah Graham was half-Jewish and grew up with the heritage. when they both went to this one restaurant, he would often make her say this one word in Yiddish over and over again because he just LOVED how it sounded. -- a common Thing that the fitzgeralds did during their parties was use dinner plates as targets. they would literally pick up their plates, throw them like disks, and someone with a shotgun would take aim and shoot them. mostly...when they were indoors...and prolly drunk... -- note that thing about the mistresses...he had multiple over the years. not like...hugo lengths, but ya know...still adultery -- the entirety of him meeting james joyce...well, actually, of any distinguished writer really. scott held so much admiration for renowned authors that, when he met them, he often WAAAAAAY over the top in order for them to exemplify the intensity of his feelings. in the case of joyce...going so far as to threaten jumping out the window -- according to the one biographer i’m reading now, scott had a plan to commit suicide at some point in his later life. originally, he thought thirty, but then changed it to forty-nine. he died at fourty-four by a heart attack instead. -- he did, in fact, attempt suicide impulsively during the Great Depression, but failed. after having an article written about him that completely torn him to pieces, scott got so anxious and desperate that he deliberately overdosed on his sleeping pills. his stomach became upset though, and threw them back up. another attempt followed in which he became so drunk, he got a hold of a gun, swung it around, and threatened to shoot himself, according to one of the nurses looking after him at the time. -- scott was very much fascinated by the movie industry and hollywood in general, granted he came to hate them both later on in his life working as a screen writer. still, he had a very dramatic flair and was known for his love of play-acting. -- an example of this play-acting, scott once saw a blind man tapping his ane along the street. curious as to know what it was like to be blind, tried to copy in suit. afterwards, he got into an argument with his friends, stating that he pretty much did a banging job at the attempt...but, then, something else caught his interests and it went on from there. -- scott did everything with his left hand EXCEPT WRITE. he wrote with his right hand, funnily enough. -- there is HUGE possibility, considering his spelling and grammar, that he was largely dyslexic. -- these are all the facts i have for you so far, but i can definitely try to provide more if i remember any! you’re free to reblog this!

#magnate meechi [ out of character ]#// okay to reblog!#// long post #// this took awhile #// but i did it!

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