#or is it just supposed to be 'she consciously chose this course of action but we're pretending that says nothing abt her'

[shiegra]

it is a little wild to me that we can recognize what Ye Xiwu did as fucked up but apparently we’re not...acknowledging Sangjiu’s actions

[la-pheacienne]

Okay nobody asked for this but I have some thoughts about Anna Karenina. I read that book in highschool and it was a pain in the ass but still a rewarding experience. I remember liking it, but at the end feeling like "okay, an adulterous unstable woman, at the time when it was written I suppose it was really ground-breaking, it doesn't seem that relevant anymore, who would condemn Anna today for wanting to leave her miserable cucumber of a husband for a hot blond horse rider with BDE, relatable, no one would stone her alive for that today, that was then".

Wrong. So Wrong.

It was obvious to me that Anna was unfairly punished by society for being human and the author intended to present it that way. Apparently, it is not so obvious to a big part of the readers. The discourse I saw online is extremely disturbing:

"I felt like she chose her lover over her son? To me she just seemed extremely selfish. She has a loving and rich husband".

"yes, she did ultimately choose her lover over her son. It's terrible that she lived in a culture that forced her to make that choice, but that's the choice she made. Her own happiness was more important to her than her child's. That's not a choice most parents would make".

"She is not even a good mother she hated her daughter when her daughter Anya was sick only thing that was important to her was that Vronsky didn't came home at the time so she started using opium".

"I don’t like her. She made a poor decision that left a child without a mother and a husband without a wife. Any woman who puts their own selfish desires over their family is not to be liked".

"I can not abide women who let themselves be pushed around so much by society and the moralists of the day; I keep wanting to give them a good shaking and say "Stand up for yourself, girl!"

"One of the reason that Anna is so hard to like is that she only defines herself in relation to other people. Wife to a husband. Mother to a son. Lover to Vronsky. Who was Anna? What did she like? What were her passions (besides men)"?

"Vronsky said that while Anna seemed only to have him to care for, he had many friends and many interests and responsibilities. Adults usually do. Anna was an eternal child, wanting gratification, indulgence, entertainment". 

The first observation is of course, how completely off the mark these takes are considering the particular female experience in 19th century Russia. Especially the comments about her not acting like an adult or her being boy-crazy are laughable, as if a woman in that time period could just "stand up for herself" or even define her life and choose her course of action indepentently of men in any fundamental way. As if she would have ever comitted suicide if she could do any of those things. If she could still keep the boyfriend and her son, if she could decide to have a divorce whenever she wanted to, if she could be allowed to simply exist on her own, she wouldn't have committed suicide. A person who commits suicide is a person who doesn't have a way out. She didn't. And it is pretty obviously stated in the text.

The second remark is that in this story we have a (female) character that is so appallingly victimized and crushed, entirely at the mercy of other men, circumstances or even pure chance, while at the same time keeping her personality, desires, and agency intact. This is why this story is so great and this is why these people do not get it. Tolstoy, consciously or not (probably consciously) really outdid himself precisely because he told the story of a victimized woman who was also kind of a bitch, to put it bluntly. She was both. You can't talk about Anna just by focusing on gender inequality. Being a victim of patriarchy is not all Anna was. Anna was selfish yes, she was irrational and obsessive and ruthless and she wanted it all and she wanted it now. It wasn't enough for her just to have an extramarital relationship, tolerated by social norms, allowing her to keep her son and her lover. No, that was not enough, she wanted to live with her lover freely, she wanted to make the rules and she didn't understand why she just couldn't. She felt terribly guilty for abandoning her son, yet she didn't give a single fuck about the kid she had after, the one kid she could actually take care of. Horrendous. Her husband offers divorce, she doesn't want it. He later refuses the divorce, now she wants it. She is not ready to travel and wants to wait, and when her lover tells her they have to wait one day because he wants to see his mother, she suddently wants to leave now. She is strongly advised not to go to the opera because that would bring herself and everyone around her misery, she goes to the opera. She does exactly the opposite of what she was supposed to do at any given circumstance. What she wanted was bigger than what life could give her, and she killed herself.

Now that may be Tolstoy just showcasing what happens to lusty restless adulterous women. Tolstoy, after all, had the misogynistic factory settings of his time. He was also a genius. I don't believe there is anything about this thrilling, vibrant, catastrophic portrait of a woman that came by chance. The inequality, the unfairness of it all is so palpable everywhere in the book, her absolute lack of freedom constrasting with the freedom of her husband lover and brother. All of these men can do whatever they want, they can fuck, cheat, dominate, determine their life and other's without any criticism or consequences whatsoever, and she can't even leave the house without it being a major scandal. She doesn't control anything in her life, she is completely ostracized. She is considered an actual criminal, a pariah, for having human desires.

And yet, despite all that, she has the audacity to want for herself. In her ultimate victimhood, seemingly at the loss of all agency she still does not let others define her inner world one bit. She absolutely defines her life, she makes autonomous decisions, she even defines her own demise by suicide. She chose this, she could have chosen differently, but she didn't want to. The social setting was horrible for women, but if she was slightly more reasonable she could have had a better outcome. She didn't want that. Crazy right?

And that's why modern readers cannot get this book. We are used to media that convey a "message", ready to consume on a plate with a pink ribbon. We are used to passively watching women reacting to horrors imposed on them, and feeling sorry for them. We are used to a Handmaid's tale type of social discourse. We are used to dystopias. We are used to good guy - bad guy dichotomies. We empathize with female characters getting killed, tortured, physically and sexually abused, because they are the victims. But a woman who dares to leave her kid and go away with her lover? Abhorrent. Inconceivable. It is so extremely difficult to empathize with a female character that is just palpably human, it is confusing, she is not victimized enough to deserve empathy from the modern audience. A victim is a symbol, it is an abstraction. Give a victim a mind of her own and human desires, and she is suddenly a whore.

Tolstoy in all his moralizing puritanical 19th century glory, gave us an actually "complex" (as much as I have come to hate the word) female character, and by "complex female character" I mean a fictional woman that maintains her spiritual autonomy while seemingly being entirely determined by other people or circumstances. I cannot say the same for the vast majority of "strong female character" models of contemporary media.

[jeskoholic]

A Little Piece of You Chapter 18: Black Swan

This is a chapter from an on-going series. If you missed out on the previous entries, you can check my masterlist.

Previous chapter: The Ideal Girlfriend

Word count: 4,975

Tags: Male OC X Secret Idol, Mystery Girl, Library Girl, School Cafeteria Convo, College Scenario

Enjoy

---

Today marks another day that I spent away from United Kwangya, among all other days that I elected to do the same as well. After that one huge major event with regards to Dawn, it really opened huge ways and opportunities for me to catch up with my friends that are not from the new group chat. Yujin was a definite special case; I’ve never felt so grounded again after talking to a friend such as her. It was as if I was on another soft reset with my life that I can finally move forward with what’s given to me. Well, even with that, I still don’t know how else to come back with the rest of the group chat members, in the event that I really decide to come back anyway. Somehow the absence of closure between me and Soyeon is bothering me even in the smallest ways. I still find ways to be worried about her even if I know she’s not thinking the exact same way towards me.

I don’t exactly even know why I’m deliberately distancing myself from the group. I guess I’m shy and still possibly embarrassed with what happened with their friend but then again… it’s not as if it’s entirely their fault that we broke up. It must be a bad thing on their perspective, but I must admit that I am finding solace being away from the limelight that is them. That way I’ve been catching up on a lot of stuff that I can’t normally do when I’m with hanging out with them. The only thing bad was… how am I supposed to head back now that I feel like I’m so far off? I’m sure Kyungsoo might have gotten a bad impression towards me nowadays, especially when I practically declined all their invites for the past days the moment I lost my romantic link on the group chat. The drinking sessions were pretty understandable and yet even I repeatedly declined to share lunch with them, only to regret it later in the afternoon. That seemed to be a repeating cycle that they just halted from asking me again.

The skies were as bright as a day could possibly be. The usual carpet of clouds were absent from the early atmosphere as I boarded the train for the morning. Joohyun-noona, the hardworking woman she is, left me with a prepared meal for the day ahead as she dealt with her job so early on.

Honestly, she’s a huge reason why even with this seemingly lonely life, I don’t feel alone; being able to have some personal space with myself felt so powerful because of everything that was happening around me.

Here I sat again close towards the window of the train watching as the soft scenery pass by in front of me. With the soft barrage of ballad music, of course the idiot in me could feel like it was a scene from a drama, or for that context it was from those sad music videos. All of the things I’ve done to lead up to this point had started to come unto me or I guess everything just started to sink in. Listening to sad songs this early in the morning really was a bad idea but I can’t seem to get rid of it.

Nevertheless, I exited the terminal that morning feeling rather downtrodden. It was ironic, considering I was initially so enthusiastic to leave the apartment earlier that day for a bright morning stroll. Now, I feel like I am at that rainy breakup day again. It was one of those times that your inner consciousness start to get the better of you, with all the actions you did out of impulse starting to sink its teeth onto your skin, making you wonder if it was the right decision; including how different your life had headed to in case you chose the other path.

What the hell am I doing?

I need to fix this mood I intentionally created later within the day because I can’t stay like this until I go home. It would be worse than having to control an uncontrollable mood swing, especially when I don’t have that much of people to talk to. Considering most of my days recently were either anchored on studying (and eventually sleeping) at the school library or doing the exact opposite of that and heading on off a net café and play with Hyojong for what it’s worth… I just might do the latter to shake my mind off of things. I’m veering off into dangerous territory that I don’t have plans on visiting anyway.

“Finding a perfect person definitely involves a bound of luck as well as a good stroke of fate. You’ll never know when you’ll meet her, or if you’ve even met her already. The range of your destiny could be someone you’ve already spent a long time being with to someone you accidentally tripped over on the way home. It’s easier once you let your heart welcome it instead of your mind.”

I guess that works out like that. Of course, Yujin’s voice coming out of nowhere was a good plus especially on a time like this. Odd, but definitely welcome; it was better than me just indulging on my own thoughts.

Man, what am I even thinking about? I did those things for a reason. I’m here in my situation now because I chose it. I just need to keep things together and move on with what’s ahead. Yujin said it herself; it’s easier if I let my heart lead me instead of my mind. I seem to be using my head a lot recently, so I might as well think with my heart, I guess.

I made a mental note to message Hyojong to hang out on later on that day, as well as a reminder to not listen to sad, lonely songs when boarding a train in the morning. I hope that I won’t repeat this really drying start of a day anytime soon.

---HOURS LATER---

Considering he never really wrought plans to join anyone else in the lunch, as the noon approached, Yoon Jae-in struggled once again to find an eatery that would serve two purposes for him: be as quiet and as peaceful as it could in order for him to continue the series he began to watch, while in turn be on a secluded place that he can spend it peacefully without anyone recognizing him. In his head, he already was on utmost priority to finish the series, so he might as well go all in and generate a good atmosphere for himself. Of course, he had to give another excuse to Shinwon. As much as it really did not feel good to be shutting out on his original friends from high school, he wanted to think of it as some sort of a ‘recovery period’ even if there was not entirely anything he wanted to recover from, particularly on that doomed relationship with Jeon Soyeon.

Also, Jae-in managed to recover the mess of a mind he had earlier that day that he wanted to reward himself of what he originally intended to do earlier in the morning.

Yoon Jae-in exited the school library after spending the free time catching some unnecessary sleep, with the place unintentionally being his new best friend on recent days. Of course, with his last encounter on the school’s local athenaeum ending on an awkward note, it was bound for himself to be cautious. However, there was a part of him that hoped to see the girl he bumped once again; not to continue talking to her but to apologize on a better note and not on a short rush. It did felt like a stretch, including most of the thought he’s been putting just to evade the encounter with his friends, but he still wanted to count on the chances it came with.

That day, however, fate had other plans for him.

Noon approached on the clock and Jae-in still had no real idea where else he could spend the lunch on. All of the places he’s been through felt very dull on his taste buds with how often he’s been going there recently. His body, especially his tongue, craved more than just a similar taste. In a quick decision to cut all thought of places to head on to, he went with possibly the least interesting place to in for a North Liner: The school cafeteria.

Going back to NLIU’s cafeteria with his recent memory of Soyeon’s breakup there was perhaps the least motivating thing to have with him. However, in that current moment it was the most plausible option. Not only was it conveniently nearer than anywhere else, but also given a good spot he was practically invisible to the rest of the school. At least for that day, he could do and watch the planned series to let time pass a bit better. The best part was if it would unfold uninterrupted.

However, it was already established that fate had different plans for him. The chances of Yoon Jae-in getting what he wanted that day were as slim as it could get.

Apparently, the day he decided to head onto the cafeteria was also the day that the school’s athletes were practicing hard for the respective inter-school games. That unfortunately unleashed a huge load of people towards the cafeteria for their exclusive lunch courtesy of the university itself. With such a huge privilege given to them, Jae-in could see why most of the white-walled architecture of the cafeteria began to be filled with jerseys and uniforms of mixed white, blue, and gold scattered all throughout. It was difficult to even check on a vacant seat and table with the flood of student athletes all over the place. Jae-in could only imagine the non-athlete students already occupying the tables to be there way before the commotion even began.

Well, I guess things really went south this day. I don’t want to go to another place because I’m already feeling my stomach curl out of hunger, so I have no choice but to endure it.

Is there a place to eat here though?

As much as the place was filled with noises and commotion that he could even barely follow through, the queue line towards the lunch was far more open that he initially thought. In fact, he was not even standing five minutes onto the queue of four people ahead of him before he finally got to order. It was about in just a moment’s notice that he finally had a tray of seafood and all the good stuff that came with it. Now comes the harder, probably most important part of that lunch out which was looking for a seat to eat comfortably. But like anyone else, Jae-in thought that perhaps walking around like an idiot holding a tray of food on his hands ought to shake some of the occupants already sitting there, especially those who are done and have no business to be there any further in hopes of giving the seat to someone who actually needs it.

He persistently walked around the cafeteria but to no avail. It was perhaps where the canteen received the full saturation of the athletes, as everyone one else were seated in threes or fours with a potential vacant seat filled with all their bags stacked on top of each other. The only real option was to walk upward, ascending the metal stairs that headed to the second floor. Similar to most of the aesthetic of the university, it was a typical loft design wide enough to have two tables to stay close to each other, while still maintaining that wide spread view to the ocean of blue and white below.

Jae-in scanned the place once again, this time most of the seats were at least occupied by his fellow, non-university sports-affiliated colleagues. Despite that, most of the place was still filled with a lot of people with their friends and left no real opening spots for him to even dine with. As he treaded towards the other half of the overlooking terrace, he started to lose hope and begin to get desperate; wondering if there’s at least a good amount of people there who would not mind a third or a fourth stranger eating in the same table with them. He never thought that actually looking for a seat on the place he seldom went to would end up to be that stressful.

And then he found it.

There was a table at perhaps the farthest, most hidden corner of the cafeteria that only housed a single person with a vacant seat next to them. The table, for the most part, was filled with various papers and fairly familiar book covers. Jae-in turned towards the person seated… and his shoulders immediately sank.

…Or rather, his heart skipped a beat because he instantly recognized who the person was. He, however, did not expect to see her on a place like that, precisely on a time like that as well. Perhaps fate’s playful string-pulling brought him to that exact time to meet her once again.

This is going to get awkward, but I have no other choice. I’m already hungry and I need a seat.

Jae-in closed his eyes, gave one last sliver of encouragement for himself and then proceeded to head on off ahead to speak to the girl in a rather shivering voice.

“Umm… excuse me… do you mind if I take a seat…?”

---

My heart was pounding so hard inside my ribcage I could already feel it bursting out of my body. Who knew that asking for a small favour took all my courage into doing so? It kinda shows that I don’t do this too often to get practice.

Maybe she’d recognize me…. I don’t know if it’s better that she did or she didn’t.

As much as it took almost all of my effort to even ask that question out, the girl seated opposite me sat silently, clearly occupied on whatever she was writing on the table. Upon closer inspection I realized that she had her ears covered with earphones; the constant supply of music perhaps cleverly eliminating all sorts of noise that came from the cafeteria. It was probably something I would do as well, so I was not really surprised that she didn’t hear me. Well, the problem was how to reiterate the same message without sounding really rude. The girl was so immersed in summarizing a text from a book, including drawing what looked to me as interconnected hexagons; a discarded scientific calculator lay next to her papers housing a solution with eight decimal places after a scientific notation.

I moved to gently tap on the surface of the table, just enough to get my message across while not being entirely brash about it at the same time. She seemed to have gotten my message as she raised her head up, revealing a really beautiful face hidden behind huge, thin-rimmed spectacles as well as a crown of wavy, black hair. Her face was small, enveloping an eye-catching visual composed of a small face, heart-shaped lips and small details of beauty marks that added to her really alluring presence. She supplied me with a completely innocent and inquiring gaze which quickly unfolded into self-consciousness when she realized that I stood there with a food tray on my hand.

“Y-yes…?” she said with that same, soft-toned voice, almost barely even audible with the crowd of the cafeteria below. “Can I help you?”

“U-umm… sorry for disturbing you b-but… the r-rest of the place is full so I wonder… I w-was wondering if you’re with someone else…”

Holy shit my voice is creaking so hard I feel like I’m going to faint. How do I make it sound as if I’m not hitting on her?

“I mean… you’re the only table w-with f-free chairs so I w-wonder if there’s s-someone else… everywhere e-else is f-full so…”

The girl’s humble yet confused gaze lingered on my eyes for a good while before she caught of the situation and nodded softly. Her eyebrows rose as she did with her body, straightening herself up from the slightly slouched position she was in previously.

“Oh, of course… P-please go ahead. I’m not with s-someone. Please take a seat.”

“T-thank you…”

I was really relieved to find out that she was alone, but now that I was offered the free seat while she moved the rest of her books to give me space, I felt so shy all of a sudden. My body moved ever so slowly to fit my butt onto the stool, and I could have sworn my entire being was shaking down to my very core. I never figured that it was way more awkward to sit opposite her after just interrupting her out of the blue. She seemed so concentrated before I shook her off of her trance.

What should I do now?

Do I talk to her even if know that she’s working on something?

I placed my tray over the space she cleared for me and awkwardly shifted my chopsticks to begin eating. Initially, I expected her to delve back right into the work that she was doing and pay no mind to my presence there, which was fine by my part considering I was the one sharing a table with her. However, she instead shifted her gaze from the tables that surrounded us before knitting her eyebrows in another expression of confusion.

“Umm… I t-think you were d-doing something… P-please don’t m-mind me. I’ll m-make sure that I won’t make any noise, whatsoever.”

“Oh, no, please don’t think about it that way,” she said with a wave of her hand and then supplying me with a very gummy smile. “I am just surprised with how crowded the place had been since I came here. I have lost track of time since I ate about an hour ago.”

She’s been here for an hour?

“Yeah about that… there’s an event and the canteen is teeming with school athletes for their lunch. You know… athlete privileges and all that… Umm… t-the tables below were pretty much occupied by t-them so I… I came up here…”

“That’s… wow… I’m sorry for not responding to you on the first time,” she once again said. “I thought you were just passing by close to my table… I did not intend myself to be rude for not responding immediately or anything…”

“Oh no, please don’t… it’s totally fine. I’m… I’m already comfortably seated here so… I guess it is okay.”

Fuck, it feels so awkward to eat right next to her. It’s as if I just woke her up and there’s nothing she could do afterwards.

A prolonged and awkward silence ensued after that exchange, which mostly revolved around her organizing the stuff that ended up being messy while she was studying. It looked pretty normal to me, but with how frantic she was on gathering the right things to put on her bag, I thought that she was already leaving. I had that idea until her organizing eventually ended on a single notebook as well as a pen placed over the table. I felt really awkward paying attention to her that long that I merely focused back on my meal.

And then, the tables were turned. As I moved to eat the rest of my lunch, she already had her eyes planted on me. Her gaze was so strong that I could feel my senses tingling.

I raised my head up and our eyes immediately met. This time, her expression was curiosity painted over her face. She eyed me with concern yet it was so full of inquiry.

I really don’t know what else to respond to that so I just smiled and hope that I didn’t get any residue food sauce on my mouth as well as of my face.

Don’t make this weird. I have to ask her something.

“Is… is everything alright?” I asked out of curiosity as well as wonder.

“Oh umm… sorry… I… sorry if I stared too long but… okay, I need to ask you because you look so familiar… I feel like we’ve met somewhere that I just could not remember, but I could be wrong. Have we met before?”

There it is. I’m glad that she opened it up. At least it would make this conversation a lot less awkward…

“Actually we have… I’m actually the guy that bumped you at the library before.”

---

The young girl’s eyes widened in surprise, apparently dropping the pen she was holding down towards the surface of the table. She held her mouth with her right hand as she supplied Yoon Jae-in with a look of utmost shock.

“Omo, is that true? Are you really that guy from the library?”

“I… well I am,” Jae-in replied with a chuckle, mimicking her movements by placing his chopsticks on the now-empty food tray. “It’s… honestly it was a part of the reason why I elected to… to interact. I figured it would not be entirely that… first of a meeting, I guess…”

“Oh my, I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize you! I knew you had that sense of familiarity with you, and that you’re not just someone who had a familiar face to begin with… I knew it. I knew that I talked to you from somewhere; I just can’t quite put my finger on when we talked. Oh my, I should have known!”

“No, no, it’s fine… it was just easier for my part, I guess. It’s no big deal. Besides, you seem to be more…”

Jae-in glanced towards the bag that she had with her.

“…You seemed to be more occupied on a lot of stuff than me, so there’s that as well.”

Jae-in’s so-called ‘library girl’ returned his statement with another gummy smile, unconsciously tucking her hair behind her right ear until she eventually excused it with a soft head scratch.

“It’s… it’s nothing… It’s crazy that… that we met almost in the exact same way. We saw each other again when I’m occupied with all my academic stuff… you must think that I’m a book worm or something…”

“If that’s the case I don’t really think that it’s necessarily bad… plus, I don’t really think that way. We’re all looking for some ways to study, right? I guess I’ll just have to thank that you’re not doing it at the library during this time. At lease I got a seat for it.”

 “I can’t agree more to that… otherwise you’d end up eating while standing, right?”

With that, the pair of them smiled at each other and then proceeded to laugh.

I’m feeling so strangely at ease with this conversation. It’s amazing.

“So,” Jae-in opened up, now in better confidence with the comfort of the conversation. “I recognized some books you had a while back; including those when I accidentally collided into you before… are you studying in engineering as well?”

She nodded in response, rather enthusiastically that time which was followed oddly by a short silence.

“Yeah… I’m taking Chemical Engineering. How ‘bout you; are you in engineering as well?”

“Actually I am… I don’t think it shows that much but I actually am.”

“Ah, I had that impression about you. What major?”

“Haven’t quite decided yet but I’m heavily leaning towards Mechanical. It kind of interests me to do so.”

“I see… if you’re still not decided, does that mean you’re in your second year?”

“Umm… yeah…? You talk… as if you’re… not… are you?”

Jae-in’s  library girl nodded silently and rather softly, carefully retreating from her chair as she moved to recline on the backrest, all while taking her glasses off in the process. She then rested her elbow on the table’s surface and proceeded to support her chin with her palm. It was, especially to Jae-in, an act that was unexpectedly cute; quite more emphasized on the curiously amused expression that came with it. However, it made things a bit awkward in the silence, not until she finally spoke once again.

“I think, judging by the subjects alone, that I’m actually a year older than you… I can’t be sure.”

Oh, is that right?

Wait…

Fuck, I’ve been talking so informally since I began to sit with her!

I didn’t know that she was my noona!

“Oh sorry n—“

“Wait, I know what you’re thinking and don’t proceed with it,” Library Girl interrupted while raising the hand that was not under her chin. “It is fine and I didn’t find you rude. It made the conversation a lot easier to follow as well. And no, you don’t need to change how you talk to me. I’m quite young, maybe started school earlier than most would so I bet if I’m older than you, then it maybe just be a couple of months so no big deal.”

“A-are you sure about that…? It would not be weird…?”

She shook her head.

“It would be weirder if you decide to call me ‘noona’ now that I just asked you to drop it, wouldn’t it? It’s okay. I really don’t mind.”

“Okay then…”

RING

Whatever saves Jae-in thought after that sudden revelation, it was immediately flushed down the drain as he was interrupted by the school bell. Clearly, it was the hourly school reminder bell, quite more prominent now that he was in the main building of the campus. It was so shrill and loud that it stunned his ears for a short bit while it lasted.

To his surprise, Library Girl actually moved to gather the final pieces of her school supplies into one pile and carefully placed them back on the bag, along with the other books and research notes she had when Jae-in first arrive there. She then proceeded to brush her shirt clean, shook her hair off in waves to even them out, and then proceeded to speak to Jae-in once again.

“It was nice to finally meet you, but I’m afraid that I’ll have to go now. I actually was staying here to kill time because I have a bit of a free time before my subject. So, at least then you can enjoy the table to yourself.”

“Oh, no worries… thank you for letting me sit down and chat for a bit. At least I didn’t bump you again.”

She chuckled

 “At least this time, we mutually bumped into each other, right?”

She finally stood up and supplied him a smile once more like it was a farewell, and then moved to pick up her food tray devoid of dishes left waiting on the side.

“Wait, wait,” Jae-in interrupted. “Please just leave that. I’ll take care of it once I turn in mine. It’s just the least I can do to thank you for letting me share the table with you. I got this.”

“Alright, alright,” she replied as she withdrew her outstretched hand from the tray. “I appreciate that. You don’t really need to thank me, but I appreciate it nonetheless. I’ll be the one to thank you. I’ll be heading off then. Please enjoy your day!”

Jae-in and the aforementioned Library Girl mutually bowed in courtesy with the young girl replacing the chair she used back on the table’s seat. She then turned around the round perimeter of the table and passed Yoon Jae-in one last time, moving towards the very entrance path that he came in almost half an hour ago.

And then there was a jolt to the young man’s mind. For a split second, he felt his heart stop upon realizing a very vital thing he nearly missed on that very encounter.

“Wait, please wait,” he said once again. That time he finally rose from his chair and darted towards the young girl in attempt to still reach her. Luckily for him, she hadn’t really picked up her pace yet and the two of them met quite a few tables away from where they originally sat on. The Library Girl turned in place to face him once more, her eyes in visible confusion as her face was held in inquiry.

“Sorry,” Jae-in began with nod. “I didn’t get your name last time because I was in such a rush. I can’t just remember you to be the Library Girl from now on, can I?”

She chuckled in response, quite amused with the ample nickname given to her.

“That would be funny if you did remember me that way,” she replied as she finally stretched her hand, offering a handshake to Yoon Jae-in.

“I’m Mina… Myoui Mina. It’s nice to meet you…?”

“Jae-in… Yoon Jae-in…” he finished for her, taking the outstretched hand of Myoui Mina to finally shake it, honestly having her soft palms rest against his to be quite a relieving sensation.

“Yoon Jae-in… okay; I’ll remember that. I’ll make sure to remember you the next time we see each other as well. I’ll see you around, Jae-in. Please take care.”

“See you around, Mina.”

And then he stood there, watching the figure of the one Myoui Mina he just met withdrew her hand and pace out of the cafeteria after him. He didn’t café if he looked weird standing in the middle of the busy crowd or in the view of the currently dining students; he simply had that unexplainable elation upon finally knowing the name of the said girl from the library, finally having a face as well as a name he could include to his memory.

Myoui Mina… that’s a really beautiful name…

Next Chapter: One-Eyed Owl

[bluiex]

hello bluie i have been dealing with the writer's block plague but today i've just decided im not doing that anymore. have some stream-of-consciousness type fic set loosely sometime after scar turned red in limited life in the clocker's base

----------

Grian sighed a lot these days. He sighed mostly about Scar, and the nonsense he'd gotten up to lately.

Once upon a time, Scar thought it was endearing. Now, he can hear the condescending tone right out with every heave of breath.

To the point that, now, in yet another death game, Scar was sick of it.

Grian sighed. "Scar—" "Are you going to keep doing that?" Scar interrupted, carrying on with feeding the cows. Cleo was going to be home soon, and she really needed the levels from them, so it was his job to make sure there were— "Doing what?" Right. Play stupid. Wasn't that supposed to be Scar's job? Play the harmless idiot who's more of a danger to himself than those around him?

This wasn't third life anymore. Those days of a boiling desert were over. And how sad, that because they only ever had one another in that horrible place, that it drew them close.

Scar imitated Grian's sigh. "That." "Breathing?" Scar could almost hear Grian rolled his eyes. "Scar, honestly, you're being so nitpicky right now. I'm sorry that I can't be more patient for you, I've got too many things going on right now." Grian was never patient. Always too quick to strike, too eager to take the kill. He was just lucky that it paid off more times than not. Double life had taught Scar that.

The insanity of a beautifully-timed stalactite piercing Ren's skull didn't completely overshadow Grian letting them die to his own hubris and a Warden's shriek. Careless.

Scar picked at his fistful of wheat. "Is there something I can help you with, Grian?"

Grian huffed. Scar wanted to shove Grian into the cow pit and pray he got trampled to death. "I was only coming to ask if you're okay, but since you don't seem to be in the mood to talk..." "When are you going to stop that?" Scar snapped, swiveling around to stare Grian in the eyes. The latter flinched back, mostly out of surprise.

Scar wasn't supposed to be scary. He was supposed to be a distraction, the bait you threw out. Someone expendable.

"I, I don't know what you're—" "Do you ever stop? Any of it?" Scar didn't have any patience of his own to spare anymore. "You play to win and so do I, but even I don't treat my teammates the way you do.

"I don't get it, do you hate me? Do you have a problem with me?" Grian blinked, shaking his head in disbelief. "Scar, no, of course I don't hate you, you're just letting the game get to your head. It's not real, none of it is, you know that." "That's not what you said in the cactus ring," Scar hissed. "That, that was different!" Grian said hastily, his face turning pink at being called out. "Listen to me, you're upset about this now, but soon it'll be over, and we'll go back home, and everything will be normal again." Scar tucked the wheat away, his face contorted in barely contained outrage. "It might be 'just a game' to you, but not to me. Not to anyone else here."

He drew his sword. Grian took a cautious step back. "Scar, don't be stupid, calm down." "You don't get to decide that for me anymore," Scar said, and as the words came out of his mouth, his face twisted into realization.

Grian couldn't control him anymore.

Scar stepped closer, the sword tight in his grip. "You don't get to decide my actions, my alliances, my enemies, or my plans. You don't get to chose my friends, or my traps, or the things I get to care about." Grian was so caught off guard that he hadn't noticed the cool, stone wall now flat against his back. He did see the sword pointed squarely at his neck, and the deadly glint in Scar's eyes.

"Scar, we're allies too now, remember?" Grian stuttered, fingers itching to grab the axe at his hip. They were alone, he could argue self-defense. It wouldn't get him more time, though.

"I know. I'm not going to kill you, Grian." Scar tilted Grian's chin upwards with the point of his sword. "That would be too boring of a kill for you. Don't deny it." Grian bit his tongue to keep from arguing. "Then, what's your point here?"

"You said it yourself, this isn't real," Scar said, his voice trembling. "It's only a game. Nothing matters here, really, right?"

Grian only eyed him over with a wary look. Scar's heart was pounding out of his chest. There was more than one way to kill someone, even if it killed him a little bit too.

(Then again, Scar's heart broke a lifetime ago, cookie crumbs still clinging like sand to his clothes.)

"Well, in that case." Scar swallowed. "I'm breaking up with you."

It pained Scar how easy the words were to say, as though he meant to say it a million times over, a million lifetimes ago.

Grian wanted to laugh. He wanted to keel over, arms against his stomach, and laugh the words Scar had just said out of existence. Because this was such a stupid place to break up with someone, and over what? Some hurt feelings?

Scar seemed to notice, because he swiped his sword against Grian's neck to bring him back to reality.

The blood staining his blade reflected the scarlet in Scar's eyes, but they didn't bring the same warmth they once did in the desert. No, they weren't warm at all, like something, or someone, had sapped all the life out, and left a cold husk behind instead.

"I'm breaking up with you," Scar echoed, pulling his sword away and pointing it towards the front door. "Now. Get out."

YES SCAR YES SCAR FUCKING END IT WITH HIM WOOOOO!!!!

Jay thank you this is so fucking good- I'm glad you decided to kick writers block

[elmaxlys]

The Previous God’s Revelations

Tenkuu Shinpan Arrive ch70 and 71, just transcribing the French translation (Kana) to English.

The pics are screenshots I took of magapoke when the chapter was free to read.

Note: where I wrote “mechanism” the French actually says “organism”. I however chose to write “mechanism” because it seems to be the same term used in the original series, chapter 50, which has been translated as mechanism by Mangabox. As I do not have access to the Seven Seas translation, I chose to use the Mangabox term.

Chapter 70 - Page 14

Panel 1- Here.. I must be in my mental palace... It really looks like the cosmos, I wonder why...

Panel 2- Maybe because the human brain and the cosmos are alike? What even is the cosmos in the first place? This is fascinating...

Panel 3- Stop! This is not the time to think about that! I have to go back there to help the others...

Page 15-

Panel 1- No, Senya... The role you had to play has been over for a while...

Page 16-

Panel 1- You need to keep wandering just a bit more... until the “winner”’s emergence... If you make your consciousness emerge right now... There’s no doubt that you will disappear...

Panel 2- Who’s talking to me? Ah... this time it’s an alien!

Panel 3- Stop saying nonsense... I am...

Chapter 71- page 1

...in this dimension... and of course in the parallel world in which you’ve entered... I.. even before that this situation was born... In this death game organized in this world... I am...

Page 2-

Panel 1- The winner. You can consider me the “previous” god...

Panel 3- Huh? I don’t understand anything you’re saying...

Panel 4- You didn’t know that you were in a mechanism to create a god, didn’t you? What use is there for me to leave traces of my fights on the signboards if it’s not to create my legend?

Page 3-

Panel 1- Well, saying “god” is a bit much... Beings that are born in this world are merely functional: their role is to eliminate threats... The fact I came out as the winner of this game complicated everything.. I didn’t intend to act until danger appeared.

Panel 2- However... The world which was supposed to have ended slowly reactivated... That doesn’t concern me.. This is a bit like it demanded new sacrifices...

Panel 4- At first, I thought I wasn’t recognized as a god, but... I was probably mistaken... Because in fact, to ward off the dangers that are born in this dimension, several gods are needed.

Page 4-

Panel 1- Wait a second... This mechanism... this world... It was created, but... By whom?

Panel 2- That, I do not know... A being that’s in an even higher dimension? Unless it’s only a phenomenon, similar to the universe, born from a vibration between being and nothingness?

Panel 3- Or even... a thing born from the collective consciousness of more and more numerous humans demanding a god?

Panel 4- The collective consciousness of humans?

Page 5-

Panel 1- But I’m getting off topic... I learned afterwards that there existed another world. And I also found out Yuri Honjo’s existence, a kind of devil in that world, and the battles she had fought. I assume Sniper already talked to you about it.

Panel 2- So I then wanted to oppose her. She used a different method from mine to stop the deadly game: the invasion. And I disliked that immensely.

Panel 3- This is the reason I guided Taisei to this world, he who was wandering through dimensions. Because of Yuri Honjo’s actions, he had become powerless and I felt bad seeing him like that.

Panel 4- Wait a second... If I sum it up... All the horrors we had to go through were your fault?

Page 6-

Panel 1- I indeed carry part of that responsibility. This is why I’m currently protecting you right now... I gave you powers, to you but also to numerous other people. Senya...

Panel 2- This is you I pity the most here. Because you’re the one Taisei used the most.

Panel 3- Who? Me?

Panel 4- The school’s arrival was Tenma’s doing, but Taisei predicted it. He had been watching you [plural] for a while. And he spotted you on the school roof.

Page 7-

Panel 1- He then decided to make out of you a being that would fight with all his strength in the middle of the despair and whose prowess would create a huge increase in energy. Tenma was already acting like that, but Taisei went even further. He really tried to create a hero in this world.

Panel 3- And a hero cannot die easily... This is why Taisei led you to Sniper. To Sniper’s spirit, which nobody had seized... Your very meeting had been arranged by Taisei!

Panel 4- Then, for you to understand the rules of this world... he put a young girl on your way and he pushed her to suicide.

Page 8-

Panel 1- Indeed... Your friend too...

Page 9-

Panel 1- Taisei created beings of “stage 1″.. Of course, there are other ones apart from Tenma or her men that are inferior to them. They’re not strong, but they make the perfect pawns for Taisei... The one who killed your friends was one of them... The goal was to generate despair in you.

Panel 2- A hero plunged in despair by an external force... This is what you are. However, to be used and then emptied of all energy, even I think it’s too cruel.

Panel 3- After all, if everything went according to Taisei’s wishes, it would be no fun. This is the reason I gave you additional strength... To others, too: to the astronauts, to Kyouko Oribe, to the super cute blind girl...

Panel 4- What?! To Kyouko too?! So she really is in this world too...

Page 10-

Panel 1- You went beyond what Taisei expected... But you’ve been “killed”... And your consciousness is on the verge of disappearing...Your brain and vital functions have been regenerated by Kuon Shinzaki, but this goes way beyond now... If you recuperate your consciousness and continue to fight, you will end up disappearing.

Panel 2- I advise you to stay here for some time, where it’s calm... I’ll keep you up to date with how the fights are going. We still have some time before Yuri Honjo manages the “fusion”... But if it really happens..

Panel 3- Yes, I know... I will have a chance to survive, but... What will happen to Kyouko and my classmates?

Panel 4- Kyouko is fighting “Stage 2″ beings... I don’t know what will happen to her. The middle-school students have largely tasted despair... Taisei should act soon and appropriate this energy...

Page 11-

Panel 1- In that case, let me out right now. I have faced many hardships in this world! I cannot abandon the others and behave like a loser!

Panel 2- Behave like a loser? In the setting of this deadly game, I admit this is a detail I quickly forgot about.

Panel 3- For you, the way we appear is more important that our own lives and efficiency? Still, if you disappear, there’ll be nothing left of all that.

Page 12-

Panel 1- Wrong! I refuse that the universe I love will keep this memory of me!

Panel 2- That’s right, there’s still a trace. As quantum information.. More simply put, people’s memories...

Panel 3- If you disappear, your being will be scattered... It’ll become impossible to put it back together, for Yuri Honjo or for me. And you still want to go back?

Page 13-

Panel 2- Well, fine...

Panel 3- Of god I only have the name.. I certainly am unable to predict all quantum movements. I am curious to see which phenomenons your action will bring.

Panel 4- And so I am sending you back... to your universe.

[lord-of-christmas-lights]

I swear I have normal Narnia headcanons. However, none of them are featured in this post.

So! If you've been following my series of posts about my Inhuman Narnia AU and the couple of oneshots I posted on ao3 under ASkyOfKai, you've probably noticed that in this little universe I've created, Narnia is sort of...sentient. And I've just realized that I've only actually gone into depth about this on Discord with my friends who are probably very tired of hearing about it. So I'm making y'all suffer through it instead. Welcome to Inhuman Narnia 101, please take your seats because this is going to take a while.

Warning for religious themes, theological discussion, and some dark fantasy/inhuman/body horror concepts that involve blood and physical changes.

BEFORE I SAY ANYTHING: Please keep in mind that an AU is meant to be an alternate universe that may not follow canon information. If anything in this post contradicts canon on the creation of Narnia (it undoubtedly will), pay it no mind, this is an AU. It doesn't have to follow canon.

First off, a little explanation of the Inhuman Narnia AU in general. Basically I came up with this AU after seeing some other people on tumblr post about the Pevensies being not quite human after their time in Narnia. Just eerie, cryptid, a bit of dark fantasy kinda stuff. And I was like, "I'm in love, sign me up, I have ideas." I did not sit down and develop this all at once. The worldbuilding I've done for it has come slowly over the past few weeks through posts, fanfics, and discord rambles. The idea of Narnia being a sentient earth deity of sorts is a recent one and there is already so much to it. (Also I call her Narnia because it's convenient, she has other names but I haven't bothered to like, actually make any up so Narnia is what she's called.)

The most important thing to note starting off is that Narnia is not supposed to be a replacement for Aslan, nor is she necessarily "the hero to his villain". Aslan and I have an interesting relationship, as he is literally God/Jesus/The Holy Spirit/etc and I no longer really identify as Christian. While there are times that Aslan definitely takes a more antagonistic route in my writings, I don't actually see him as a bad guy, nor as a good guy. As God, he literally removed from our concepts of good and evil (in my opinion). The same goes for Narnia being an earth deity. I am a Christian-raised pagan, and I definitely subscribe to the idea that gods and deities are not subject to humanity and our rules. Narnia is not a good goddess, she is not a bad goddess, she simply is a goddess. Plain and simple. The dichotomy that exists between Narnia and Aslan in my writing is generally that of opposing deities, but this isn't a hard and fast rule. There were and still are times when they're friends, working towards the same goals. There are times when Narnia's power is stronger than Aslan's and times when Aslan's power is stronger than hers. There is no simple 1:1 comparison between them.

So, getting into motivations and why Narnia as a deity even exists. Essentially, I asked the question, "How do the Pevensies become inhuman?" and voila earth deity Narnia was born. Now, the basic in-universe mythology I've worked out is that Narnia and Aslan are two deities from separate dimensions that came together to create a new world, the world of Narnia. Aslan is the one who oversees things, he's the one who comes up with the ideas, and he's a little less attached to the world as a whole because he's a Creator, not an earth deity. Narnia is, however, and she literally makes up the world, she sort of runs the entire thing on a physical level, and she is much more attached to it. So she's always kinda taken on this role of making the things in her world the way she wants them. For the most part, she and Aslan designed everything together and they're both happy with it blah blah blah. Well, Aslan then decides to bring a few humans from this other world he's created to Narnia. And she affects them a bit (I've got headcanons about Digory and Polly that I haven't posted anywhere yet but I might soon), but it isn't until Aslan brings the Pevensies over that she really gets to experiment. See, there are other deities in the world that kinda rule over the various lands on a surface level (patron gods for Telmar, the Archenlands, etc, they just have less power than Narnia and Aslan) so she has a little less power over the people in those places, but the country of Narnia is both her land and her so when the Pevensies become the Kings and Queens and live there for 15 years, she's very connected to them. And it's through this connection that she starts to affect them. Honestly, I'm not sure if Narnia even knows what she's doing when she starts stripping away their humanity. I think it's that she can feel they're not from her world and she doesn't like that. She wants them to be a part of her, she wants them to belong in her world just the same as everyone else. (Side note—I know Telmar and some other lands in canon are based on people finding portals and coming through and I'd like to say that she does affect them a bit, takes away a bit of their humanity, but it's not to the same extent as the Kings and Queens of her lands).

"So Kai," you might say, "You keep empathizing that she is literally the land and the land is her. What the hell do you mean by that?" Well, essentially, she is...the...land. Basically if you've read Percy Jackson Heroes of Olympus, there's this idea that Gaia and Tartarus are both physically their domains and able to take on a smaller, human shaped physical form because they're gods and not restricted by human ideas of only having one body. Narnia is the same. Her physical form is both the entire world and whatever smaller shape she might appear in to people. However, we have to acknowledge that their world is differently structurally from ours. There's magic, there's talking animals, and in my Inhuman AU, there is a literal Heart of Narnia at the center. Like a physical, beating, human-shaped heart. Except it's a lot bigger than a regular human heart. Also it's golden. And many many many miles underground. So anyways this is where she's centered. It's basically where her soul is. Probably under Cair Paravel because I just came up with that idea and I love it. And radiating out from it are veins of magic and blood, and these stretch all across the world. Now here is where we get into blood magic and some of those fun terrifying concepts I've come up with.

Narnia has her own blood, of course, but also whenever one of her Kings or Queens bleeds in battle, she kinda pulls it down through the earth into her own heart and veins. It doesn't really do anything to her or them in particular, it's just a fun side effect of them having a patron pagan god. Yes this includes Caspian after he becomes King. Also Peter's blood turns golden because he's the High King, and then later Caspian's does too because I just really like imagery of Ben Barnes bleeding gold. (Side note—when Peter returns to England, his blood goes back to red, but it does remain a brighter red than blood generally is).

Diverting for half a second here. Now, in both my regular Narnia writings and my Inhuman AU, Lucy is very very connected to magic. In my regular Narnia fanfic, she studies with the druids, who are sort of like BBC Merlin's druids. They're just like, chill dudes who run around in camps doing magic and making prophecies and shit. However, in the Inhuman AU, they are a lot darker. One of my favorite ideas with the Inhuman druids and Lucy is that they are so connected to Narnia's magic and her Heart that their hands become stained with blood. Is it their blood, is it Narnia's blood, is it someone else's blood? Idk, don't ask questions. But yea, their hands are permanently stained reddish-brown to almost black. In my regular Narnia stuff, I still like the idea of Lucy's hands being stained and go with just earth magic, dirt stuff for the reason why. But yea no, in the Inhuman AU her hands are stained with blood because of blood magic.

So getting a bit more into how Narnia affects the Pevensies now because I love talking about this lol. She doesn't consciously chose how to change them, though she does call them her creations. Generally the way her magic affects them is by connecting them to to the land in some way and bringing out certain traits they have. So for Peter it's his eyes flickering between regular blue and the amber of a lion's, feathers appearing on his back that grow into wings, having a strength greater than that of a giant's. His blood is golden and on clear nights, the Aurora Borealis in the sky is reflected across his skin. For Susan, her skin glints like glass in the sun and she can briefly glimpse the future. Her wounds are sewn shut with golden rays of light, her eyes are cracked but clear, and she seems to glow faintly in the night, a bit of the sun's radiance shining through her. Edmund has a bit of a star's power lodged in his throat, and can manipulate words, uses them to influence people and their actions. His skin is frostbitten in places, a side effect of ruling the Woods where the White Witch once held so much power, and in some spots his bones shine under the ice that spreads across his skin. Lucy has the stained skin from her stronger connection to magic, and when she speaks words from the Old Language (the one Aslan and Narnia used to shape the world itself), her voice echoes and rasps. Her teeth are too sharp, her smile too wide, and when she disappears underwater, she can stay for hours without surfacing. I want to get into Eustace and Caspian now too but this post is already extremely long and I've still got a bit to cover, so we're just sticking with the Pevensies for now. So yea, Narnia doesn't pick what she does to the Pevensies, she just connects herself to them and through that connection, they change. The magic that she is made of, that Narnia the world operates on, that's what changes them. However, as I stated already, she does call them her creations and feels extremely responsible for them.

Wrapping back around up to the beginning, this is the biggest source of conflict between her and Aslan as of the canon timeline. I like to believe that the lamppost incident was an accident, that Aslan didn't actually mean to send them back at the end of LWW and it was pure coincidence, wrong place wrong time stuff. That being said, it did happen and Narnia really didn't like it happening. The Pevensies did return to their (mostly) human selves in this AU in England, so when they came back in Prince Caspian, she felt disconnected from them again. She reacted to this by digging into them even harder on a spiritual level and essentially speedran them back to being inhuman throughout the timeline of PC, which generally takes place over a few months in my mind. I don't remember how long it was in the book, it's been quite a while since I read them, but it's only like a week in the movie and like eff that, overthrowing a kingdom takes a bit longer in my opinion. Now there are a few divergences here. 1. They all stay at the end of PC and yea that's it, they go back to being Kings and Queens and it's like a second Golden Age but with Caspian there as well. 2. Susan and Peter stay, Lucy and Edmund go back and it's a repeat of the human/inhumanity cycle for them + Eustace in VOTDT and then they stay. 3. Everything happens exactly as it does in canon and it's a constant cycle of humanity/inhumanity with the character's various trips and finally ends at The Last Battle. I like all versions and I tend to leave things a little open to the reader on what exactly happens, or I would if I could actually finish some of my drafts and post them. As you can imagine, Narnia likes 1 the best and 3 the least. She really wants her Kings and Queens to stay and rule her lands and like be awesome and stuff. However, Aslan prefers 3 the best and 1 the least. So again, neither of them is really good nor evil, they just have differing opinions on how the world should be run and what the Pevensie's fates should be. I do tend to side with Narnia, I really like exploring these concepts of inhumanity, but I also really like the concept of a cycle. That's very common in mythology.

So anyways, that's a bit of an overview on earth deity Narnia and her role in my Inhuman AU. If you made it this far, congratulations, and I give you explicit permission to use any of my ideas in your own writing/fanart/whatever, as long as you tag either my tumblr or my ao3 (lord-of-christmas-lights and ASkyOfKai) because I need more Narnia+Inhumanity content in my life. Thanks for reading all this and I'll probably be back very soon with elaboration on Eustace and Caspian's inhumanity!

- Kai

[inupibaldspot]

金継ぎ | KIN-TSUGI [ A Fruits Basket Fanfiction ]

Chapter 9

Tsubaki locked herself in her room for days. Akito would sometimes bang into the door as she cried for Tsubaki to open the door but there was no answer.

Often inside the room, the maids would hear Tsubaki coughing and sometimes moaning in pain, this was the impact off the curse of the servant who was denying her master.

However deep into the night there would be a knock on the door which was answered. Tsubaki only responded to Kureno and no one else. When he entered in room, Tsubaki would embrace him as he whispered comfort into her ear while wiping her tears, as she would then fall asleep in his arms.

However there was one night in particular which was different. Tsubaki was leaning against Kureno's shoulder as she felt a sudden emptiness making her turn her head to look at Kureno.

"You're here with me right now, right Kureno?" Tsubaki cupped his face as her voice trembled. No doubt someone left.

"Of course..." Tsubaki slowly turned away. The feeling she got right now was something she felt years ago, it was when Kureno's curse broke. She closed her eyes as a tear slipped. There was a pain within her as if her heart was ripped apart.

Kureno looked at her as pulled on his shirt, wiping her tears. "What's wrong?" Kureno's voice was gentle.

Tsubaki hesitated to speak but then she leaned into Kureno's chest. "How did you feel when the curse broke?" Someone's curse broke... but unlike Akito, Tsubaki did not know who until she saw the person face to face.

"It felt empty... Till that day I felt someone with me but all of the sudden I felt so alone." Kureno smiled looking at Tsubaki, playing with her hair. "I did not know whether I was sad or happy...frustrated or relieved."

"It is too complex for me to describe..."

"I see...."

 .....

 Tsubaki opened the window to her room. She sighed as she let the fresh air in as she then rested on the window sill.

She was yet to meet Akito or anyone else for that matter. However Tsubaki trembled as she imagined meeting Akito, for now she feels disappointed and hurt at Akito but if she were to meet her personally, Tsubaki knew all of these feelings will dissolve and be replaced with simply affection for Akito. That scared her.

Tsubaki listened to the gentle rustle of the leaves and the gentle breeze on her skin when all of the sudden she heard a commotion.

As much as she didn't listen, it was human nature to pay attention to the noise when an environment is otherwise silent. There seemed to be shouting, Tsubaki wondered if it was Akito.

Did she get into a fight with another zodiac members? Or is she simply throwing a tantrum... Tsubaki thought. Either way she did not want anything to do with it.

However her body betrayed her. Before Tsubaki could even register, she was walking towards the noise and there were continuous whispers I her mind. What if Akito gets hurt?

The scene which was in front of her horrified her. There was Ren who was holding a knife pointing towards Akito. Kureno and two other maids were also present.

Ren's hand shivered as she shouted. "I don't know what of Akira-san's you’re holding but give it back!" Her voice trembling. "It’s mine! Everything of Akira-san's belongs to me."

Tsubaki looked at the object she was referring to only to see a small box in Akito's hands. She vaguely remembered that box was given to Akito by the head maid to comfort the small child when Akira passed away. The head maid said that it contained Akira's soul.

"Mother, Calm down." Tsubaki stepped in. "We can talk this through-"

"Don't come in between me and Akira!" Ren shouted as she pointed the sharp object towards Tsubaki preventing her from taking another step in.

Kureno quickly grabbed Tsubaki as pulled her behind him. "Stay behind me..."

Akito sighed as she pulled a condescending smirk as she walked towards Akira. "If you really want it, I’ll give this stupid thing!" With that Akito threw the box up in the air.

Ren ran towards the box which was on the floor as she eagerly opened it. Her face then turned into a blank expression. "It’s empty..."

"That's right..." Akito smiled as tears slipped from her eyes. She looked away. "It has always been empty-" Akito swiftly turned as grabbed the knife, which was on the ground, as she raised it to stab it into Ren.

Akito suddenly stopped her action as she quickly faced Tsubaki. Tsubaki also had a similar expression. Once again there was a sudden feeling of emptiness. Someone's curse broke... Another end had come.

Ren looked at Akito, who stopped moving all together. "What's wrong? Weren't you going to kill me?"

"Shut up!" The head maid shouted, furious. "Why did you even bring a weapon here?" This caused another fight to break out between the two maids.

Akito slowly walked away leaving the room, looking weak. And when Ren and her maid left, there were only Kureno, Tsubaki and the head maid alone.

"Kureno-san please go to Akito." The head maid requested. "I want to talk to Tsubaki alone." The man gave a worried look but nevertheless agreed.

"Remember Tsubaki! You're supposed to serve Akito." The head maid starts as she looks at Tsubaki.

Tsubaki looked oddly unresponsive and empty. Her mind was still in daze but that did not stop the maid from continuing. "You all are bound by the bond and if you don't act properly you are no different from that monster cat-"

"I want to leave..." Tsubaki spoke.

The head maid gasped in shock. "What type of nonsense are you speaking Tsubaki-san?!"

"I'm honestly very tired..." Tsubaki spoke in a low voice. "Ever since I was young I followed what you taught and did whatever Akito said as if it was a law."

"But then when I was alone in the room for the past few days my mind went everywhere as I imagined all sorts of things." Tsubaki smiled. "I wondered if I had been born into a normal family, I would have known parental love. Spending mornings having breakfast with parents, doing the dishes and even having family outings at time. I always wanted to have something like that."

“I have realized that I have a person I love possibly more than I've loved Akito." Tsubaki wandered her mind to Kureno's gentle smile. She wondered if she left, he would go along with her. "But now I want to move out. I'm far too late for those experiences of my ideal family now but I can give that to my future children... I want to be my own person and build my own family with a person I dearly love...."

"B-but..." The head maid's voice stammered as she hands shaked. "If you were to leave just like the previous people who were bound was the servants you might die!"

Tsubaki turned away as she walked away. "I think...If I were to die while fulfilling that wish, my last thoughts would be 'I'm happy that I'm surrounded with people I love'."

Walking away Tsubaki noticed that it had started raining. The weather made the atmosphere quite dark.

Entering the hallways, she saw Kureno and Akito. They were embracing.

Ah... I forgot. Tsubaki thought as she felt her heart hurt at the sight. Even if I and Kureno were to love each other, we don't belong to one another. We belong to Akito.

Just as Tsubaki was about to walk away from the two Akito suddenly pulls out a knife, the one Ren had brought, as she impaled the object into Kureno's back.

Tsubaki brought her hands to cover her mouth from shock as her whole body went cold.

"Your kindness that half saved and half rejects me...Has been killing me!" Akito pulled away as she shouted. "So take responsibility and pay for it!"

Akito then walked out of the house and into the rain. "Atone with your death!" With those words she runs away.

"Kureno!!!"

Tsubaki rushed to his side, as he limped towards Akito. "Tsubaki... Forget about me. Go to Akito..."

Tsubaki stripped off her outer kimono as she placed it on Kureno's injury to prevent the blood from flowing out. "Don't be stupid!" She shouted as her lips trembled. "I'm not going to leave you."

"Somebody! Is anyone near?!" Tsubaki shouted.

Kureno looked at Tsubaki. The girl was crying as she kept turning her head around to search for the presence of other people. It's seemed as if Tsubaki seemed to be crying a lot these days. He disliked that.

Kureno weakly raised his hands as he cupped her face. "Are you crying for me?" He smiled at his own joke.

"Are you an idiot?! Who else is bleeding in my hands?" Tsubaki shouted. "Of course I'm crying for you."

"I'm happy...." Kureno left his conscious slowly drifting away as his vision started to blank. "Don't worry... I won't leave you... I already planned my future with you..."

Kureno knew he was never Tsubaki's top priority. She always priorities Akito.

Kureno knew Tsubaki's first love wasn't him. It was Hatori.

Kureno knew Tsubaki's kindness towards him. She was kind to all of the zodiacs.

But then more than other zodiacs she loved Akito. She never acted to have a relationship with Hatori even though they clearly loved each other when they were younger. She made sure to crush her feelings for Hatori because she knew Akito would never allow it.

Despite all that, Tsubaki finally turned to Kureno. She knew Akito would hate it yet she accepted Kureno's embrace. Even though she gave up on her love for Hatori, she expressed her love for him, Kureno. Even right now rather than Akito, she chose to stay by his side. Kureno was happy Tsubaki finally picked him over everyone.

 .....

 Tsubaki opened the door to Kureno's hospital room. She stayed there until Kureno regain consciousness after his surgery but was later forced by Kureno and Hatori both to go back home and rest for a while.

Going back home she took a bath, a small nap, made some food and even packed some to later feed Kureno.

Tsubaki noticed the man was lying in bed, his eyes closed. She smiled as she tried to walk as quite as possible as she placed the packed food on his table.

Walking towards Kureno, she took in his appearance. His brown hair which was quite messy and his face which looked a bit paler than usual, nevertheless she couldn't deny he was indeed attractive.

Rasing her hand she placed cupped his cheek as her thumb moved gently. Kureno shifted slightly as he tilted his head slightly. Tsubaki giggled at his actions. "So you're awake."

Kureno let out a small laugh as he opened one of his eyes. Tsubaki walked away with a smile. "Wake up. I got you some food." Making Kureno sit up as he leaned on his back.

While placing the food in front of Kureno, Tsubaki started. “I went to visit Tohru as well. It seems she has been recovering well."

"I see..." Kureno said as he picked up his chopsticks and picking up some rice from the bento box. "I glad that her injuries weren’t too serious."

"She kind of reminds me of you." Tsubaki laughed as Kureno gave a confused stare, his cheeks filled with food. "Both of you are incredibly kind and maybe abit clumsy... but I like both of you."

Kureno continues to eat his food before he starts speaking, his tone tense. "What about Akito? How is she?"

Tsubaki sighed as she looked outside the room. "Akito... Akito changed after meeting with Tohru. She has become calmer and gentle."

"Kureno, I feel like you might not want anything to do with Akito anymore." Kureno nodded when Tsubaki looked at him asking for confirmation. "But when I talked with Tohru...I realized that Akito was all this time very lonely. She has been raised with everyone around her telling she is special and nothing she does can be wrong..."

"I said those same things as well but now after seeing her again I want to rebuild my bond with Akito." Tsubaki bit her lips as she hesitated continuing. "I no longer want to see her as my master but rather treat Akito simply as my dear sister."

"There are many things she doesn't know about the outside so I hope that I can teach her and be by her side." Tsubaki looked into Kureno's eyes. "If I said I don't want to leave Akito yet stay with you... would you leave me?"

Kureno smiled as he placed a hand behind Tsubaki's head as he pulled her into an embrace. "I got you after so long, there is no way I'm letting you get away." Kureno kissed the top of her head comforting her. "Indeed I don't really want to personally be in contact with Akito now... but then I have nothing against you wanting to be with your little sister. I'll support whatever you want, Tsuabki..."

"Thank you-"

Tsubaki suddenly stopped speaking as she left something  leave her, all of her senses completely heightened as she turned around to see what was causing it.

Behind her stood a man, he resembled a Shinto priest, who was looking at her as he stood by the window. A gust of wind flew into the room as a dragon gracefully flew towards him.

The man spoke, his voice was so gentle and elegant. "Thank you for taking care of her till the end." By her, he probably meant Akito, their God.

As he then held onto the dragon who pulled him from the room as they flew away. Back to their God.

Tsubaki suddenly remembered every time Hatori and she were seen together, the people would gush saying how it's was nice for the souls to be reunited. As according to the ancient story and their past self’s, the servant and the dragon loved each other dearly, sometimes as friends sometimes as lovers.

"Tsubaki?" But the one she loves now is him.

Kureno’s voice brought her back into reality as she finally turned to look at him. "The banquet has... The banquet has finally ended." Tsubaki's voice cracked as tears continued to fall.

"It feels so complicated. I've always lived with this but now that it's gone so suddenly... so abruptly I-I..." Kureno pulled her into an embrace.

Her then cupped her face as he placed a light kisses on her forehead. "I understand..." Kureno spoke. "But then it means you're free, my love. With this I want to take this opportunity to say I'm going to dedicate all of my being to you..."

Kureno looked at her. Tsubaki could feel his gaze simply full of affection towards her. "Let's make a new bond...just between me and you. A bond which will make me the happiest person alive."

"Will you till accept me even..." Tsubaki kept crying but this time to was full of happiness as she held Kureno’s hands. "Even if I have nothing to give you other than my broken self" She has done many things wrong in her life which hurt many along the way, all because of her coward-ness and insecurities.

Kureno laughed lightly as he peppered her with kisses all over, her eyes, cheeks, forehead and finally her lips.

"That's all I ever wanted. I'll always be with you picking up all your pieces and make sure to fill you with nothing but my love."

 .....

 "Akito."

Tsubaki looked at Akito was sitting down looking at the garden outside, beside her was a small package, a golden glow from the outside making her look so beautiful.

"Tsubaki..." Akito turned slowly as she looked at her. She opened her mouth as if to say something but closed it, only to suck in a deep breath. "I thought you won't come back?"

Tsubaki smiled. She is certain now. When she stayed away from Akito, Tsubaki wondered if she loved Akito simply due to the curse, but the way her heart warmed at the sight of Akito, what Tsubaki felt was genuine love. "How could I?"

"Tsubaki there is something I want to say..."

"What is it?"

"Can we start over?" Akito said, her voice barely audible. "I know the things I did to you were wrong and you might never forgive me...But still I want to see me grow into a better person..."

Tsubaki smiled as she cupped Akito's face. "Only if you call me onee-san... Like how you did when we were younger."

Akito's eyes glistened as she closed her eyes, bringing her hands to her chest in relief as she nodded her head.

Tsubaki turned to look at the package beside her. "Is this the gift Shigure bought?" Akito nodded. Truth is Tsubaki wanted to buy Akito a kimono as well, a gift for Akito who will embrace her true self from now on but it seems that Shigure was one step ahead of her.

"This is my gift for you..." Tsubaki pulled out a small rectangular box as she then opened it. It was a hair pin, beautiful sculpted as a red flower which would go well with Akito. Red always suited her.

Tsubaki smiled at Akito, which such a gentle yet doting expression. "Shall we get ready for the final banquet now?"

Tsubaki could hear loud voices from the room the door away connected. She turned back to look at Akito once more. The woman was dressed in a beautiful kimono even with light makeup adoring her face. Her gifted hairpin placed on one side of her hair.

"Akito, you look really beautiful rights now."

With that Tsubaki opened the door as she stepped in. "Good evening, everyone." Tsubaki bowed, when she straighten up she put on an elegant smile. "Akito is ready..." She then walked in and behind her Akito walked.

With Akito's entrance, everyone turned silent undoubtedly shocked at the reveal. "Hatori, where is Shigure?" Akito questioned.

Hatori snapped out of his daze as she shook his head. "I don't know..."

"Akito-san, don't tell me we have the same cross dressing hobby?!" Ritsu exclaimed in shock.

Akito's expression soured at the assumption. "No." She sternly denied as Tsubaki laughed. Akito never really was good with dealing with Ritsu and Ayame.

Akito elegant sat down as she faced the zodiac- no, former zodiac members. "Just as all of you were able to return to who you are, I'll return to my true self." Akito spoke. "You all are free..."

"I know I should have said something sooner but..." Akito bowed her head. "I apologize...." Besides Akito ,Tsubaki also bowed as well.

You don't have to forgive Akito but please do not let the past prevent you from having a future we always dreamed of. Please smile, please laugh, please experience love which we were not able to get when we were younger. Tsubaki thought.

Please have a happy future...All of you.

 .....

"Mama!"

A woman turned around to look at a small girl who was clinging into her apron. The woman smiled at the tiny girl, who had glowing brown hair tied into a twin tail. "Are you done eating your pudding, Kaede?" She bent down.

Kaede smiled when her mother wiped the crumbs left on her cheeks. "Mama." She said once more. "I want to go visit Shiki-chan!"

The woman tiled her head as she smiled. "Do you love Shiki that much?"

The small girl nodded quickly as she raised her hands. "I love him thiiiiiis much! I love Hajime and Mutsuki as well! They told me Kaede is like a princess! "

Her mother laughed. "Let's not say that to papa, okay? I'm sure he'll faint if you say that."

The mother then hummed as she placed a hand on her face. "But I don't think we can go visit them if Kaede doesn't do her homework." She faked a pout.

The girl flinched as she took a step back. "Kaede will go do it right now!" With that the tiny girl ran away with sounds of tiny steps accompanying her.

The mother then walked to the living room, and in there she found her husband who had fallen asleep on the sofa. Smiling to herself, she raised her husband's head and placed it on her lap.

Noticing crumbs of the pudding on his cheeks as well just like Kaede, she smiled as she wiped them away. So clumsy… Her husband receiving her touch, leaned in. "You're not even asleep, Kureno. Stop acting."

Kureno slowly opened his eyes as he smiled looking at his wife's face. "Where is Kaede, Tsubaki?"

Tsubaki smiled. "She went to do her homework. Apparently she wants to visit Shiki."

Kureno sighed, disappointed. "Does that mean you're going to go away?" Kureno pouted.

"That's right." Tsubaki subconsciously started playing with Kureno's hair. "I heard Tohru is visiting as well so it's perfect."

"I'll miss you." Kureno smiled as he raised his hand and placed it behind Tsubaki's head. "Do come back quick." He said, as he pulled Tsubaki towards him, as he then kissed her. Tsubaki smiled as she leaned in, deepening the kiss.

"Ah!" A small voice exclaimed. "Papa move away from mama!" The girl rushed in as she started to pull Kureno away from Tsubaki.

Kureno started sobbing as he pretended to be pulled by Kaede’s strength. "Ehh? Why are you so mean to me?"

The girl huffed. "Because Mama is mine! And we are going to visit Shiki-chan!"

"Papa is sad that he'll be left alone."

Tsubaki's heart warmed up at the sight of her husband playing with her child. A scene she could have never have imagine when she was younger was reality now. From the bottom of her heart, she was happy.

A new bond which was accompanied with happiness and love embraced so gently which would remain for all eternity.

 -The End-

 masterlist

[theidiootti1]

My Mysterious Scotcman•

Chapter: 2

There it was. Their target. Sitting on a chair back towards the crew, seemingly writing something that made him sigh and rub his forehead. Filip swallowed and his throath felt thight, this was really happening now. No backing down anymore.

*you can do it..c'moon don't be stupid chicken shite..*, Filip thought .

Finally the group leader moved forward and it was time for action. They catched that guy without him noticing anything. The guy fell of his chair and stumbled on floor trying to get away from us. The blond haired leader catched the back of his jacket and banged the guys face against the hard wooden table.

Filip had taken his gun from back of his jeans and now held it with both hands. His hands shaking and heart beating. Everyone had gathered around there. Few watching out of windows or keeping eye on the doors. When Filip saw the guys face he was shocked. That guy who they were supposed to kill. He wouldn't be more than a bit over 20 years. Filip swallowed and held his gun lower, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Shoot him", growled the leader who was standing beside the trembling body.

"DO IT!!" The other one yelled with really annoyed tone.

It was like the whole time stopped in that very place. The only thing that the young boy with a gun heard was his own beating heart. He rised his gun, not shaking anymore. He shot twice that young guy to head and he dropped to the floor while his life was escaping his body. Filip lowered his gun and sighed. He couldn't believe what he just did. He watched the growing dark puddle of blood that was leaking on the floor. He felt heavy clap on his shoulder, but he couldn't react.

"Great now let's get the hell out of here..", one of the crew members growled until one of the boys runned to the mainroom.

"Lads..we have company", he said with an scared expression.

"Shit...", the boss growled when there was sounds coming from the front door "They said that the place will be empty...god, let's go !!" He yelled and all started to run to the door. But one stayed almost like glued to the floor.

Filip just stood there. Still eyes glued to the body that was laying at his feet. He couldn't take his eyes away from it, he couldn't watch away from the mess on the floor. The guilt flowed through him.

"Who the fuck are you?!" Came the voice of an confused and pissed man

Filip rised his gaze finally breaking the spell but too late as the other guy who came from the behind of the guy who spoke. That man had gun in his hand and rised it . Filip didn't have time to react as the Next thing he felt was the fastly spreading pain at his thigh as the bullet hit his leg. He stumbled down on to the floor, beside the already cold body of their victim's. He forced himself up from the floor with final glance to the body .

"I'm Sorry", he mouthed and jolted towards the back door where they came in .

He heard angry shouts and yelling from behind him as the guys discovered their dead friend. They started chasing after him down the streets under the dark and rainy evening.

They say that adrenalin makes you do crazy things. It's meant to help you survive in dangerous situation. Maybe that and the shock from the pain was driving the young guy forward through the side streets. He didn't feel the burning pain of the shot wound as he ran as fast as his legs could go. He probably haven't ever run as fast as he did now.

The only thought that was running through his dead was the voice telling him *murderer*. Why was he so weak. What lead him into this situation.

*? POV*

The rain was still heavily assaulting the city of Belfast as I left my work place in hospital. I was casually driving my car and silently singing along with a song that was coming from the radio at low volume. I was totally in my own world as i started jamming along with the song. My whole day had been hectic and total chaos because of this wet rainy day.

I'm still not used to these rainy days, not even after a half of year of living now in this autumn time Ireland. Yes you heard right. I am not from here. I was born and rised in the United States, I had lived my whole life there. Until that one day when i just wanted to get away and have a fresh start. Change of the scenario as you would say. So I ended up here, in this happy place called Belfast. I moved to live with my aunt who happened to live here and she gave me an offer to come to her place and crash there. I took the offer and soon I found myself from here. No one wouldn't believe that nor would I had as a kid. After few months of living on my aunts hair i decided to get my own place. I moved to live with my one long term friend who had moved here few years before me. We were almost like sisters before she moved to be closer to her family. Now we lived in the same house like some teenagers.

I started working in the hospital as a nurse. The job that i had went to school for. I think i always wanted to work in medical side. I loved helping peoples it was some sort of calling for me, but sometimes the hard job and being the superhero of the day can suck all your juices away and left you all weary. Like today. From all the days, today everyone chosed to break what ever bone they can break or fall at home and fracture something. Sick elderly people coming to reception just hoping for a chat with someone. There actually never was anything wrong just normal old peoples stuff. The list goes on and on. I was totally ready to get to my bed, pull the blanket over my head and sleep for the next 24 hours. Straight. Not kidding.

As I drived down the dark and dimly lit street, only the cars light illuminating the road with yellow light. I wasn't prepared that someone would be outside at this time of the night. There wasn't change for me to react faster than i did as some dark object run straight infront of my car getting hit by me. With a loud thud the dark object fell down onto the street from the force of the car.

I did fast brake and i rised my hands over my mouth. Did I just run over someone ?! All kind of scenarios started to run in my head as I opened the car door and i unbuckled my seatbelt. I hopped out of the car into the cold and wet air as i walked to the front of my car. On the ground there was laying dark clothed person who i assumed to be young man. He was hurriedly trying to get up from the street as i shook my head getting back into this moment.

"Hey, stay down !" I suddenly opened my mouth and the person tried to get up even faster but failed with their attempt. Apperently he was clutching at his leg.

I moved fast squating down and carefully placing my hand on the shaking body on the ground "Hey ? Did you get hurt ?" I asked. I immedietly mentally kicked myself. It was stupid question of course you get hurt when you get hit by a car. Stupid me.

The man still kept trying to get away from me what showed me that he couldn't be that much hurt. I studied him with my eyes in the light of my car and i saw blood on the street. The blood had to come from him and what ever it was that was bleeding, was bleeding heavily. And when i saw his bloody hands.

"Hey, don't move you are bleeding..", i said with a rised voice. I tried my best to stay calm and keep the man on the ground "You need to go to hospital..", I said as the man suddenly had his attention to me

"No hospital !!!", he growled at me "They..will find me", he Whispered almost with inaudible voice. He had an thick accent what was hard to understand. Even for me who was constantly around Irish and british accents. This was different.

I looked at him and then around to our surroundings. Who would find him ? What had this poor man put himself into. What ever it was i wouldn't liked to be part of that. No i was just an avarage working woman.

I was again snapped out of my thoughts as the man tried once again to get up but fell flat on his stomach on the wet street. Breathing heavily. It was more like huffing than breathing anyways. I needed to do something...it's my curse as an nurse I swore it in my vow.

Then the light bulp went on my head and i made probably the worst decision what you can make with completely stranger, but it was the only option at this point. I stumbled up from the ground and i sneaked my arms around his torso, getting only a painful grunts and growling from him

"C'moon help me a bit", i hissed at him and i got him up from the ground and to the backseat of my car we went. Slowly but we made it. After a little of fightning back, he was nicely seated there as buckled him up and i closed the door.

This mysterious man was already drifting from consciousness so i have to go fast. As i was walking around my car i saw dark clothed peoples at the end of the dark alley. I gulped and basically runned fastly to drivers side door and i hopped in . Fastly change gear and started driving forward. Those peoples didn't have any kind of nice vibe coming from them.

I looked at the backview mirror, and to the mysterious man who was now sitting at the backseat of my car. What the hell i was thinking about ?! Is he dangerous ?? What if those peoples were chasing him and they follow me back to our house . I couldn't put my finger on those thoughts and my heart kept racing the whole drive back to me and my friends house. As i watched at the rewiev mirror to the man who was hunched at the back seat i had feeling in my heart. I have to help him, I almost just killed him so i have it for him.

To be continued…

[oscopelabs]

It’s Arrested Development: How ‘High Fidelity’ Has Endured Beyond Its Cultural Sell-By Date by Vikram Murthi

It’s easy to forget now that at the beginning of 2020, before the pandemic had taken hold of our consciousness, for a brief moment, High Fidelity was back. Not only did Nick Hornby’s debut novel and Stephen Frears’ film adaptation celebrate major milestones this year — 25th and 20th anniversaries, respectively — but a TV adaptation premiered on Hulu in February. In light of all of these arbitrary signposts, multiple thinkpieces and remembrances litigated Hornby’s original text on familiar, predictable grounds. Is the novel/film’s protagonist Rob actually an asshole? (Sure.) Does Hornby uphold his character’s callous attitudes towards women? (Not really.) Hasn’t the story’s gatekeeping, anti-poptimist approach to artistic taste culturally run its course? (Probably.) Why do we need to revisit this story about this person right now? (Fair question!)

Despite reasonable objections on grounds of relevancy, enough good will for the core narrative—record store owner seeks out a series of exes to determine a pattern of behavior following a devastating breakup—apparently exists to help produce a gender-flipped streaming show featuring updated musical references and starring a decidedly not-middle-aged Zoë Kravitz. I only made it through six of ten episodes in its first (and only) season, but I was surprised by how closely the show hewed to High Fidelity’s film adaptation, to the point of re-staging numerous scenes down to character blocking and swiping large swaths of dialogue wholesale. (Similarly, the film adaptation hewed quite close to the novel, with most of the dialogue ripped straight from Hornby.) Admittedly, the series features a more diverse cast than the film, centering different experiences and broadly acknowledging some criticisms of the source material regarding its ostensibly exclusionary worldview. Nevertheless, it seemed like a self-defeating move for the show to line itself so definitively with a text that many consider hopelessly problematic, especially considering the potential to repurpose its premise as a springboard for more contemporary ideas.

High Fidelity’s endurance as both a piece of IP and a flashpoint for media discourse is mildly baffling for obvious reasons. For one thing, its cultural milieu is actually dated. Even correcting for vinyl’s recent financial resurgence, the idea of snooty record store clerks passing judgment on customer preferences has more or less gone the way of the dodo. With the Internet came the democratization of access, ensuring that the cultivation of personal taste is no longer laborious or expensive, or could even be considered particularly impressive (if it ever could have been). Secondly, as one might imagine, some of Hornby’s insights into heterosexual relationships and the differences between men and women, even presented through the flawed, self-deprecating interiority of High Fidelity’s main character, are indeed reductive. Frears’ film actually strips away the vast majority of Hornby’s weaker commentary, but the novel does include such cringeworthy bits like, “What’s the deal with foreplay?” that are best left alone.

Accounting for all of that, though, it’s remarkable how many misreadings of Hornby’s text have been accepted as conventional wisdom. It’s taken as a given by many that the novel and film earnestly preach the notion that what you like is more important than what you are like when, in fact, the narrative arc is constructed around reaching the opposite conclusion. (The last lines of the novel and film are, literally, “…I start to compile in my head a compilation tape for her, something that's full of stuff she's heard of, and full of stuff she'd play. Tonight, for the first time ever, I can sort of see how it's done.”) That’s relatively minor compared to the constant refrain that Rob’s narcissism goes uncriticized, even though the story’s thematic and emotional potency derives from what the audience perceives that Rob cannot. To put it bluntly, High Fidelity’s central irony revolves around a man who listens to music for a living being unable to hear the women in his life.

While Hornby’s prose immerses the reader in Rob’s interior monologue, providing ample room for the character to spout internal justifications of his behavior, the novel hardly obscures or conceals this conclusion. Moreover, the film makes it unavoidably explicit in numerous scenes. Rob (John Cusack) triumphantly pantomimes Rocky Balboa’s boxing routine soundtracked to Queen’s “We Are The Champions” after his ex-girlfriend Laura (Iben Hjejle) confirms she hasn’t yet slept with her new boyfriend Ray (Tim Robbins), but doesn’t hear the part where she says she prefers to sleep next to him. When Laura informs Rob that she did eventually sleep with Ray, Rob completely falls apart. In an earlier, more pointed scene, Rob goes out with his ex-girlfriend from high school (Joelle Carter) to ask why she chose to have sex with an obnoxious classmate instead of him. She venomously informs him that he actually broke up with her because she was too prudish, an abrupt, cruel bit of business we actually witness at the film’s beginning. It was in her moment of heartbroken vulnerability that she agreed to quickly sleep with someone else (“It wasn’t rape because I technically said, ‘Okay,’ but it wasn’t far off,” she sneers), which ultimately put her off sex until after college. Rob doesn’t hear this explanation or the damning portrait of his teenaged self. Instead, he’s delighted to learn that he wasn’t actually dumped.

These are evidently low character moments, one’s that are comedic in their depiction of blinkeredness but whose emotional takeaways are crystal clear, and one’s that have been written about before. My personal pick from the film, though, comes late when Rob attends Laura’s father’s funeral. He sits in the back and, in typical fashion, turns to the camera to deliver a list of songs to play at his funeral, concluding with his professed wish that “some beautiful, tearful woman would insist on ‘You’re The Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me’ by Gladys Knight.” It’s a really galling, egotistical moment that still makes me wince despite having seen the movie umpteen times. Yet, it’s immediately followed by the casket being lowered to the ground as Laura’s sobs ring out in the church. In a movie defined by John Cusack’s vocal timbre, it’s one of the few times when he completely shuts up. From two-thirds down the center aisle, Frears’ camera pushes into Cusack’s face until tears in his eyes are visible, but what you really see is an appropriately guilt-ridden, ashamed expression.

However, none of this evidence carries any weight if your objection to High Fidelity is that Rob suffers no material consequences for his behavior. While Rob is frequently called out for his actions, he is never actively punished. He doesn’t, say, receive a restraining order for continually calling Laura after they’ve broken up or end up alone mending a permanent broken heart because of his past relationships. By the end, Rob and Laura get back together and Rob even starts an independent record label on the side. It’s a stretch to characterize Hornby’s High Fidelity as a redemption tale, but it is a sideways rehabilitation narrative with a happy ending that arises at least partly out of mutual exhaustion.

Those two elements—Rob’s asshole recovery and the exhausted happy ending—rarely seem to factor into High Fidelity discourse. Granted, there’s credence to the idea that, socially and culturally, people have less patience for the personality types depicted in High Fidelity, and thus are less inclined to extend them forgiveness, let alone anything resembling retribution. I suppose that’s a valid reaction, one against which I have no interest in arguing, but it’s somewhat ironic that High Fidelity has endured for reasons that have nothing to do with its conclusions regarding inflexible personal principles and the folly of escapism. Both the book and film are specifically about someone who slowly comes to terms with accepting reality rather than live in a world mediated by pop cultural fantasies whose unrealistic expectations have only caused personal suffering. It’s not unfair to characterize this as a fairly obvious epiphany, but considering we currently live in a world dominated by virtual echo chambers with an entertainment culture committed to validating arrested adolescence, it retroactively counts as “mature” and holds more weight than it otherwise should.

Near the end of High Fidelity, the book, after Rob and Laura have gotten back together in the aftermath of Laura’s father’s death, Hornby includes a chapter featuring five conversations between the couple unpacking the state of their relationship. During the third conversation, Rob and Laura fight about how she doesn’t care about music as strongly as he does, catalyzed by Rob’s objection to Laura liking both Solomon Burke and Art Garfunkel, which, in his mind, is a contradiction in terms. Laura finally admits that not only does she not really care about the difference between them, but that most people outside of his immediate circle of two don’t care about the difference, and that this mentality is indicative of a larger problem. It’s part of what keeps him stuck in his head and reluctant to commit to anything. “I’m just trying to wake you up,” she says. “I'm just trying to show you that you've lived half your life, but for all you've got to show for it you might as well be nineteen, and I'm not talking about money or property or furniture.”

I fell for High Fidelity (first the movie, then the book) as a younger man for the reasons I assume most sensitive-cum-oblivious, culturally preoccupied straight guys do: it accurately pinpoints a pattern of music consumption and organizationally anal-retentive behavior with which I’m intimately familiar. I spent the vast majority of my early years listening to and cataloguing albums, and when I arrived at college, I quickly fell in with a small group of like-minded music obsessives. We had very serious, very prolonged discussions filled with impossibly strong opinions about our favorite artists and records. Few new releases came and went without them being scrutinized by us, the unappreciated scholars of all that is righteous. List-making wasn’t in vogue, but there wasn’t a song that passed us by that we didn’t judge or size up. I was exposed to more music during this relatively short period of time than I likely will ever absorb again. Some of these times were the most engaging and fun of my life, and I still enjoy discussing and sharing music with close friends, but I’m not such a true believer to fully feel comfortable with this behavior. It’s not entirely healthy on its own and definitely alienating to others, and there comes a point when you hear yourself the way a stranger might, or maybe even catch a glimpse of someone’s eyes when you’re midst rant about some stupid album, and realize, “That’s all there is of me. There isn’t anything else.”

This is what Rob proclaims to Laura in the conversation when she tells him she was more interested in music during their courtship than she is now. It’s a patently self-pitying statement on his part that doesn’t go unchallenged by her in the moment or bear fruit in the rest of the novel. Yet, it’s this type of uncomfortably relatable sentiment that goes under-discussed. If High Fidelity will continue to have a life well after its cultural moment has passed, then it’s worth addressing what it offers on its own terms. Near the end of the book, Laura introduces Rob to another couple with whom he gets along quite well. When the evening comes to an end, she tells him to take a look at their record collection, and it’s predictably filled with artists he doesn’t care for, e.g. Billy Joel, Simply Red, Meat Loaf. “'Everybody's faith needs testing from time to time,” Laura tells him later when they’re alone. Amidst Rob’s self-loathing and sullen pettiness, Hornby argues that one should contribute in some way rather than only consume and that, at some point, it’s time to put away childish ideas in order to get the most out of life. It’s an entirely untrendy argument, one that goes against the nostalgic spirit of superhero films and reboot culture, but it doesn’t lack merit. Accepting that some values aren’t conducive to a full life, especially when it’s shared with someone else, doesn’t have to mean abandoning interests or becoming an entirely different person. It just means that letting go isn’t an admission of defeat.

It’s why I’ve always found the proposal scene in the film to be quite moving, albeit maybe not specifically romantic. It plays out similarly in both the book and the film, but the film has the added benefit of Cusack and Hjejle’s performances to amplify the vulnerability and shared understanding. Laura meets Rob for a drink in the afternoon where he sheepishly asks if she would like to get married. Laura bursts out laughing and says that he isn’t the safest bet considering he was making mixtapes for some reporter a few days prior. When asked what brought this on, Rob notes that he’s sick of thinking about love and settling down and marriage and wants to think about something else. (“I changed my mind. That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. I do. I will,” she sarcastically replies.) He goes on to say that he’s tired of fantasizing about other women because the fantasies have nothing to do with them and everything to do with himself and that it doesn’t exist never mind delivering on its promise. “I’m tired of it,” he says, “and I’m tired of everything else for that matter, but I don’t ever seem to get tired of you.”

This sort of anti-Jerry Maguire line would be callous if Laura didn’t basically say the same thing to him when they got back together. (“I’m too tired not to be with you.”) It’s possible to read this as an act of mutual settling, but I always thought Hornby’s point was personal growth and accepting one’s situation were intertwined. The key moment in High Fidelity, the film, comes when Laura finds Rob’s list of top five dream jobs. (In the book, Laura makes Rob compile the list.) At the bottom of the list, after such standard choices like music journalist and record producer, lies architect, a job that Rob isn’t entirely sure about anyway. (“I did put it at number five!” he insists.) Laura asks Rob the obvious question: wouldn’t you rather own your own record store than hypothetically be an architect, a job you’re not particularly enthused with anyway?

It’s Laura who convinces Rob that living the fifth-best version of your life can actually be pretty satisfying and doesn’t have to be treated like a cruel fate worse than death. Similarly, Rob and Laura both make the active decision to try to work things out instead of starting over with someone else. Laura’s apathy may have reunited them, and Rob’s apathy might have kept him from running, but it’s their shared history that keeps them together. More than the music and the romance, High Fidelity follows the necessary decisions and compromises one has to maneuver in order to grow instead of regress. “I've been letting the weather and my stomach muscles and a great chord change in a Pretenders single make up my mind for me, and I want to do it for myself,” Rob says near the end of Hornby’s novel. High Fidelity’s emotional potency lies in taking that sentiment seriously.

[braincoins]

I want to see Shiro meeting Allura’s family. You can chose the au/magic to make that happen :)

((My first thought was to go through my various AUs and I’m realizing how rarely Allura gets to keep her family. >_> There’s one, but it stems from a smut ficlet, so... maybe not.))

He groaned as he came to. “What... happened?” He blinked his eyes open and then stared. “That... that can’t be...”

The last thing he remembered was being in battle against a new Galra battle-mech, this one uploaded with a portion of Zarkon’s consciousness (or, at least, that had been Pidge’s best guess, given that there were no life signs in the thing but Shiro was definitely fighting off more of Zarkon’s attempts to take over the Black Lion again). He’d activated Black’s ultimate - as he couldn’t help thinking of it - and then everything went dark.

Until now, and he was staring at... 

He double-checked his instrumentation. No, this was right, this was exactly the coordinates that he’d often see Princess Allura staring at in the Castle’s star map. But in the star map, it was dark, a reflection of where something had been. Past tense. 

He’d seen what it had looked like, once. She’d shown it to him in what had been the A.I. chamber, back when King Alfor’s A.I. was still with them. And the coordinates confirmed it for him, even if his own memories doubted:

This was Altea.

He shook his head. “It’s not possible.”

That was when his screen lit up. “Lion Fighter, identify yourself,” demanded an Altean guard.

“I’m...” Could he really say he was the Black Paladin of Voltron? Would they think he was in cahoots with Zarkon? He had no idea what was going on here. “I’m Takashi Shirogane, from planet Earth. I mean no harm. I’m... honestly not even sure how I got here. My, uh, lion fighter seems to have malfunctioned.”

Black growled at him in his mind. It wasn’t her fault, and she didn’t like being blamed. 

“If you need repairs, stardock 5 is open. All who come in peace are welcome.” And a flight path to stardock 5, he assumed, came up on his screen, replacing the Altean guard. 

“W-wait! Who’s in charge?”

“In charge?” the guard asked, voice only now. “Of the stardock?”

“Of the planet.”

“That would be King Alfor and Queen Menelor.”

Holy effing quiznak, I went back in time. “I... I know they must be busy, but I’d like to meet them if I could?”

The guard snorted. “I will pass your request along,” he said in a tone of voice that let Shiro know he shouldn’t hold his breath. 

“Uh, thanks. Approaching stardock 5 then.” He set course and let Black handle it, despite her grumpy insistence that she was fine, something had happened to them both. He did his best to reassure her as his brain ran things over and over.

I teleported through time some how and now I’m here and how the quiznak do I get back to my own time? 

Black settled into the stardock and lowered herself immediately. The chair yanked itself backwards without warning. “Okay, okay, Miss Grumpy Butt,” he told her. 

She growled at him.

“I had to say something.” But he got up and left the cockpit, pulling his helmet off as he walked out of his lion and into the hangar bay.

An Altean with green eye marks came up to him. “Need repairs or you doing ‘em yourself?”

“Uh... at least for the moment, I’d like to see if I can figure out what went wrong. I might need help later.”

“Fair enough. Just go easy on the tools.” The Altean left him. 

Shiro leaned against one of Black’s massive paws and thought over what had happened. Maybe Haggar and her accursed magic had intervened again. Maybe Black had unlocked a new ability - though that didn’t seem likely, because she wouldn’t be so defensive about it now if it were something she’d done. 

“How are we going to get home?” he asked out loud. Well, if nothing else, he had an assortment of tools close to hand and he at least knew how to do maintenance. Might as well take advantage of it. 

He was elbow deep in colloidal nanocrystals when he heard a door open. Not the main hangar gate but the doors into the rest of the stardock. He pulled his head out of Black’s guts and glanced in that direction. 

He nearly dropped the spanner when he saw who it was. Who it had to be. Because he hadn’t looked like that before. His A.I. hadn’t. This was a much, much younger King Alfor, and the woman with him could only be Allura’s mother. The resemblance was unmistakable. 

We went really far back in time.

Shiro grabbed a towel as he dropped to one knee. “Your Majesties.” 

“Bold enough to ask for an audience, but polite enough to kneel,” Alfor murmured thoughtfully. “I’m even more intrigued.”

“Rise,” the queen said, before adding, “slowly.”

“Menelor,” he chided her gently.

“You trust too easily and too much,” she told him.

“Forgive me, King Alfor, but your queen is right,” he said as he stood. “Not about me, specifically, for I mean you no harm. But I can understand how the situation might look. I’m honestly surprised you showed up.”

“Well, you asked,” the king replied, sounding amused. “Which most people... don’t. Unless something important is going on.”

“Oh. Uh... well, it’s important to me, but not to you or Altea. I shouldn’t have... I guess I just... I’m honestly not sure why I asked.”

Alfor laughed. “I’m glad you did; I was able to use you as an excuse to get out of a particularly boring meeting.” He looked over at the Black Lion and whistled. “Very interesting fighter you have here. I’ve never seen one shaped like a lion before.”

Not yet, anyway. It occurred to him he might be mucking with the timeline. I have to be very, very careful. “She’s a fantastic vessel. I’m lucky to have her. Even if we’ve wound up somewhere... far from home.”

“Yes, we’ve never heard of Earth,” the queen observed, staying close to her husband as he inspected the lion.

“Probably not much going on of interest there right now.” Because it was starting to hit home just how far back this really was. 

“If your people can build magnificent fighters like this, I’d very much like to visit,” Alfor said.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I’m not even sure how you’d get there. That is, I don’t know how to tell you the way. Something happened and I wound up here, at Al-... your planet. I’m not sure what happened or why or how I’ll get back.”

Queen Menelor frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is there any way we can help?”

“Not that I know of. Although... you’re an alchemist, are you not, King Alfor?”

The king looked to him. “I am, though far from the most powerful. Do you also have alchemy on your planet?”

Not that kind and not yet anyway. “No, but I’ve... I think someone used some sort of alchemy on my lion fighter. And that’s what brought me here.”

“Interesting. Do you know what they were trying to accomplish?”

“Uh... probably nothing good,” he admitted. “I was in a battle against an enemy. The one I was fighting didn’t have alchemy, as far as I know, but an ally of his does. Very powerful alchemy. They also know everything my fighter is capable of, and they were probably trying to stop it from executing one of its more powerful actions.”

“Hrm. I know of a few different ways to accomplish that sort of thing. But I don’t know how to send you to a specific place, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“You don’t have to send me back to Earth. Let me worry about my... trajectory, I suppose.”

“I think you’d better explain more fully,” the queen told him. “For clarity’s sake. We are glad to help, but right now...”

He sighed. “The fighter can... teleport, very briefly. It can move through solid objects by shifting into some sort of alternate space and then coming back into ours. At least, that’s the best way I can describe it. I was attempting to activate this ability, last I remember. I’ve done it before, successfully, but this time, I wound up here.”

“The enemy alchemist is aware of this?” Queen Menelor asked.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“So presumably they were trying to stop you from activating this teleportation ability,” King Alfor mused. “Yes, I think I know something that could work. Not as complicated an activation, so it can be used quickly, and it would freeze you in time, effectively.”

“Perhaps I could try to activate my lion’s ability and you could try to prevent me and that might send me home again?” he asked. “If it’s not too much trouble. I don’t know what I could offer in return, but...”

The queen snorted. “He needs the practice anyway; it’ll be good for him.”

The king ignored that comment. “We’re glad to help. And you seem anxious to return.”

Shiro smiled, unable to help himself. “I left the love of my life back there.” The daughter you two may not even have had yet. 

“Oooh, ‘the love of your life’, is it?” Menelor smiled. “That’s worth hurrying home to. I thought perhaps it was only duty that was motivating you.”

“Well, that, too,” he agreed. “They need me almost as much as I need her.”

“Take notes,” the queen told her husband. “This is the sort of ‘romantic gibberish’ that women like to hear.” She looked back to Shiro. “If you can help my husband learn how to be romantic, that’d be repayment enough in my book.”

“I’m not that bad, am I?” he asked.

“You have your moments,” was the only answer he got.

He chuckled. “I can try.”

King Alfor came over and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure out how to get you back to your love.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m beyond grateful.”

“You’re welcome... Takashi Shirogane, was it?” 

He nodded. “Yes, sir. But most people call me Shiro.”

((And this is why Alfor made the ships from the comet look like Lions in the first place!))

[cyclone-rachel]

i loved you yesterday || a wandavision fic

AO3 link

~

Vision came into consciousness- awoke- into this world loving her.

Loving Wanda- his wife, even if he can’t remember when they got married, or what they were wearing, how the proposal went.

He’s not even sure who proposed, or what their vows were, or how they made the decision to move to Westview, New Jersey.

(It’s supposed to be on purpose, isn’t it? They are an unusual couple- that was never in question. It feels right, acting out this role with her. They were meant to be together, meant to be here, and even more so recently, he wants to focus on the future.)

But when he’s looked at her, he’s thought that none of it matters. He’s there with her, and now with their children- and though he can’t remember how that happened either, he loves them too.

He still loves them, of course. Even with their rapid aging, he’s getting to know them, and learns more with each passing day.

(And what is loving someone if not truly knowing them, especially for someone who is incapable of forgetting anything?)

Wanda... she is a different story.

With her, he is at a disadvantage, in the way that anyone is- she has always been able to read him. It’s one of his favorite things about her, that she can understand people with such ease. And with him especially, when few people even try (and for obvious reasons at the moment, he can’t let them) ... it’s no surprise that he stays close to the only one he knows who really can.

But he cannot, as much as he’d like to (with her consent) read her mind, or gain access to her emotions. Their connection has become one-sided, at best.

Which is what frustrates him so, when they aren’t on the same page… and, given what he’s recently discovered, that happens to be much of the time- the disagreements bubbling right below the surface, cracks in their foundation as though the ground beneath their home will split open and take their new life with it once the two of them reach a breaking point. Something may erupt between them, and soon- he only hopes that their children won’t be among the casualties.

It never used to be a disadvantage for the two of them. They were always so in-sync, of the same mind, and no matter what happened before Westview, he believes that such was the case back then, too. And he wants to trust Wanda, when she says that she doesn’t know what’s happening, that even with her incredible powers she’s not truly in control of all of this.

He isn’t sure of what his original programming was, who created him and gave life to his systems. But he is certain- he cannot be selfish, and lose himself in his new role as a father, or put so much faith in his wife that he ignores those who are suffering around him. He has to, as unnatural as it feels, ignore the statistics telling him that Wanda is most likely telling the truth, at least until everyone else is safe.

(How long has it been, really? How long has Norm, for example, been here, connection severed from his family? Is his name truly Norm? What of Agnes, or Herb, or anyone else he’s interacted with in this town?

What of Geraldine, and her seeming disappearance from this world altogether?)

He knows that Norm was not specific, when he mentioned a “she” who was in his head. That, coupled with Wanda’s denial, could point to someone else being in true control- but then again, didn’t he seem to trust that only Vision himself could stop whoever this was? Hasn’t Wanda told him (he assumed colloquially, but…) that she had everything under control, and merely asked if she couldn’t when he told her she couldn’t control him like the others? Hadn’t she said that they didn’t need to leave, when he brought up the possibility? Wasn’t she about to dismiss his fears, make another choice for him that he didn’t ask for or have a say in, before they were interrupted?

Isn’t she the one who this “anomaly” is named for, from the perspective of those on the outside?

It’s easy enough to excuse himself, from the Halloween festivities. Especially with the re-introduction of Pietro- he and Wanda take the children, and he sets off alone, in the costume Wanda chose for him. He sees less and less movement as he goes- repetitive motion, stilted speech, those affected acting as though they are caught in a time loop, unable to be set free. And eventually, they don’t move at all.

He could release them- but it would just be worse, inciting even more panic, until he can figure all of this out, and reach those who sent the email to his office.

(S.W.O.R.D.

Doctor Darcy Lewis.

Words he should know; concepts he should be aware of… but it’s the idea of Maximoff’s Anomaly that makes him forge forward)

Vision sheds his costume (he didn’t want to wear it anyway, he feels as though he is wearing a costume every moment outside of his house regardless), and floats above the town wearing his true face, gazing down upon it all. The wind is… well, there is no point in describing it if it’s hardly there to begin with. There are lights, and sounds, but they seem to be clustered in one part of the town, and both are scattered around beyond it, only appearing sporadically once they reach the outskirts, eventually dying out.

There’s one road, that seems to encircle the town- and a car stopped right before it, that he stops to focus on. Vision lands quietly, not bothering to put his costume back on, before seeing that Agnes is the car’s sole occupant, dressed in a witch costume, her hair streaked with silver.

He talks to her. She seems to be more capable of speech than the others- perhaps because, in Wanda’s eyes, she is a major character, regardless of how far away she is. But she doesn’t look at him, and seems like she doesn’t know him… until he touches her head, using the same action he unknowingly performed to unlock Norm’s true personality.

She calls him one of the Avengers.

(noun: a person who takes revenge for an offense, a person who takes revenge on behalf of someone else.)

(He’s not sure what he did before to receive such a distinction, but from the context, he takes the name to be associated with heroism, and helping people. There are others like him- are they looking for him? Do they wait for him outside the boundary?

Was Wanda an Avenger too? Was that how they fell in love?)

She knows him- Agnes, if that is her real name, takes his hands and asks him if he’s there to help them.

Of course I am. Of course I will- I was already planning on it.

And I hope Wanda will, too.

She wonders why he doesn’t know… and then tells him he’s dead.

He wants to argue- but she sounds so insistent, and keeps repeating the word, perhaps so it will sink into him and stay there, among his essential systems. So he takes it, takes her telling him that Wanda won’t let anyone think about leaving, takes her laughter, until he puts her back under, his hand shaking ever so slightly.

She doesn’t notice. She doesn’t act like she’s looking at anyone out of the ordinary, as she wishes him a happy Halloween, and turns around- goes back to a place without dead Avengers or nearly immobile neighbors.

Then it’s him alone, at the corner of Rolling Hill Drive and Ellis Avenue, the stop sign below the street distinctions looking more like a warning than ever.

But still he walks forward, across the street, into what appears to be a field before him- until the air flickers before him, glowing brighter blue as he approaches. It seems to be a tightly-knit grid, or like static, red and green and blue, continuing to warp and flicker as he gets closer.

The part of the boundary before him seems to look like a door- or perhaps that is an illusion, what he wants to see, to convince him that this is the right decision.

(he doesn't need convincing)

But nonetheless, he places one hand against it, then the other…

And when he emerges, he’s aware of a red glow behind him. He takes one step, two, three- the boundary seems to hold onto his cape, he can’t quite pull it out all the way- and with each step there is more pain.

It hurts.

It hurts.

It hurts-

Focus. What do you see?

Cars. People. Lights.

Military?

They are all looking at me.

They are pointing their guns in my direction.

Someone is speaking.

“He really does want out, doesn’t he?”

It feels like he is straining against a magnet, one more powerful than he can imagine, as he falls to his knees- a part of him flies off, and he doesn’t care about retrieving it. He’s not even sure what part is gone. He suspects it doesn't matter.

A woman’s voice.

“Stop! He’s coming apart!”

None of them, besides her, are moving either, as he grits what humans would consider teeth, and tries his hardest not to scream, mind too overcome by hurt to think.

Another voice, but this time in his head.

Don’t worry, Dad. It’s all right.

Billy, he thinks, holds onto the memories of his sons as he continues to lose himself. He may die here, trying to talk to the outside, letting himself fall apart so nobody else can, but for them, for everyone else…

They’re worth it.

The woman on the outside is handcuffed to a truck.

“Help him!”

That’s right. But I don’t need it as much.

“Help!” he manages, hoping they can hear him- hoping they care. “The people need help!”

He’s reaching out to them, wants them to understand that he comes in peace.

(if they know him, and understand he's an Avenger, they will. But then again, they may not be so receptive to a message from a ghost.)

But his hand is coming apart, more of him is falling away. Soon, unless Billy or Wanda get to him in time, there won’t be anything left to save.

He can’t stand anymore. He lies on the ground, feeling as though his body is burning, thinking of his children.

Hold on, Vis.

Wanda.

But she’s not beside him- instead, he feels the barrier around him, encroaching on the world he has found himself in.

Then, suddenly, he’s back inside Westview.

He’s intact, and whole- Wanda has healed him.

But, he notes as he finds himself surrounded by a circus, she has also brought in new inhabitants- and he’s not sure how this will affect her, or how much longer she can keep Westview under her sway.

(How long will she be able to keep him, or their children?)

He doesn’t know if his message will get out. Doesn’t know if he wants to remember what happened to him on the outside as an Avenger, or how he died.

~

He doesn’t want to go home that night.

[simpingforthisonedeer]

Chapter 7: Silver

Summary: tw: non-graphic suicide attempt but other than that, the chapter is completely sfw. The final battle with the diamond kingdom.

Notes:

- Today's chapter is shorter than usual bc im working on making the other chapters sfw so rewriting scenes, deleting them, making some stuff into innuendo etc so more people could read.

- I like to write bit more for the side characters because everyone's the main character of their story but they are relevant to the plot trust me ;)

- Be sure to check the notes at the end <3

Aika danced between spells aimed at visible enemies as she strolled towards Julius’ general direction. She took mental notes of his general attitude on the battlefield as she fiddled with her amulet, the same one she used in the Headquarters to move around unnoticed. The Amulet of Ignorance, the single most expensive magic relic Aika possessed, didn’t make her invisible, but it rather made everyone ignore her presence. If anyone were to look in her general direction, their eyes would glaze over and their gaze would move elsewhere.

Her own gaze landed on Julius’ figure, whipping around too quickly for ordinary eyes to track, but her eyes and brain processed images faster than any other man, except perhaps the only other Time Mage. She focused on observing his technique as she ignored the pangs in her heart. It’s been a week but he was still fresh on her mind.

Aika wondered if he would end up being one of her regrets.

She sighed heavily and put her feelings aside for the moment.

Julius may seem like all sunshine and smiles, but on the battlefield, he was vicious as he made split-second decisions and cut down enemies with efficiency. Clouds of enemies-turned-dust flew around him like an Augury, warning any and all of their fate if they foolishly chose to fight him. She noticed how he used the Chronostasis over a large area and immobilized enemies, but the spell only expanded so far if it touched someone first.

“He could improve that technique with mana method,” Aika thought as she moved her attention over to Evan and Jayce who insisted on fighting. Evan with his Hellfire Magic was raining literal hellfire on the enemy troops while Jayce with his peculiar Shape Magic deftly changed the terrain to his advantage as he tested out his newfound swordsmanship. Aika’s lips quirked up in pride.

He insisted she teach him herself but she was reluctant at first because as much as he was a genius, he was incredibly lazy. But Aika caved into his puppy-dog eyes and taught him the basics but he quickly developed his own style with the foundational knowledge and wielded his strangely-shaped sword quite well. He was no match for Aika due to her decades of experience but most mages these days don’t know how to counter swords well so he was pretty deadly on the battlefield.

Aika sidestepped a falling body as she winced at the mage in pity. It was an enemy mage, but she muttered a little prayer nonetheless to ensure his soul would rest in peace. Perhaps she should start praying after battle again. She used to sing a hymn in her fighting days to ensure the battlefield wouldn’t be tainted by restless souls and she could deign to do it again.

Right as she came to a decision about which prayer to use, an arrow struck her chest, more specifically her precious amulet. She stared in shock at the archer who had even detected her in the sea of mana. The masked archer lowered their bow and looked at Aika almost tauntingly before disappearing behind a hoard of mages charging at each other.

She wanted to go after them, but her first priority was to dodge the mages who turned on her because a mysterious woman just materialized out of thin air. She didn’t even have any identifiers such as a crest or a uniform, so as far as everyone is concerned, she was their enemy. She was glad that her scarf at least covered the bottom half of her face.

Aika cursed when she noticed from the corner of her eye that Evan had begun his ultimate spell. 

Another reason why she was observing today’s battle was to contain the range of Evan’s spell, “Hell on Earth,” but this was not the time. She tucked the broken amulet and arrow into her cloak pocket and shot up into the sky with a sigh. She loved her amulet, but she could afford to mourn later.

Aika threw her hood over her head until it covered her eyes and spread her biggest Mana Zone spell—Queen’s Domain—until it encompassed the whole battlefield. She peeled off her black leather gloves, which suppressed her mana, and unleashed her aura of forbidden magic and smirked at the poor bastard who fell out of the sky when he neared her on his broom. The three horns that sprouted from her forehead lifted the cloak and her vision zoomed in on the growing sphere of blue flames, swelling and stopping at the impossible size of 100 meters wide in the distance.

Everyone on the battlefield froze as they stared in dumbfounded awe at the second Sun in the sky. The silence was deafening, but it only served to make the ringing in Aika’s ears louder as she concentrated on immersing her mana into the sphere and ousting Evan’s out.

Mana existed on a different plane, another realm if you will, but it had the special ability to affect other realms while staying in its own. But the opposite isn’t allowed. Controlling mana that wasn’t your own or in a way that wasn’t permitted by your magic was forbidden by the Gods themselves. In fact, interfering with other realms outside the limitations of your own given magic is forbidden magic.

Aika didn’t believe in limitations. She knew her potential was endless, as characterized by her grimoire. She sacrificed parts of herself to break through the ceiling above her, so Gods be damned. They can’t stop her.

A feral grin spread across her face as the Blue Sun slowly began moving as per her command. She controlled her breathing as she controlled two large spells simultaneously. One spell moved the flames, the other was Queen’s Domain, which combined with a sliver of forbidden magic, froze enemies in place at the sheer amount of fear coursing through their veins. She moved closer to the Diamond troops that were about to be annihilated for better control.

This magic brought out the worst in her, and right now, it relished in the screams that filled the air as the army in front of her lit up in flames. Aika ignored the ugly feeling and concentrated on her breathing again as she prayed. They even sounded like the damned.

Aika thought the battle had ended at the horrific scene she had created, but the Spade Kingdom joined the fray, forcing Master Raymond, the Wizard King himself, to join as well. After she had made sure Evan was safely off the field to recuperate his mana, she stayed high in the sky, away from most of the spells as she continued to observe Julius while keeping an eye out for the assassin who broke her precious amulet. Her heart nearly stopped when giant tree roots whipped around her to strike at the ground. How in the world was she supposed to expect roots to sprout from the sky?

As she maneuvered around them, she watched as the eye-catching hair of the Captain of the Silver Eagles fluttered in the distance. To her absolute shock, the man stayed completely still right before spikes of hard rock impaled him. Aika shot towards him with a bone-rattling bang and caught him right before he collapsed. A young man, that was the mirror image of Captain Silva, raised his spears of fluid metal at her, ready to strike but she froze him where he stood with a stasis spell of hers.

“Miss Tolliver?” Lord Silva breathed as blood dribbled down his chin. Aika’s weg vanished as worry and empathy filled her. She quickly threw up shields around them as she rewound the time until the spikes disappeared back into the ground.

“Yes, It’s me. Everything’s going to be fine. I can heal you—”

“No!” he exclaimed, then let out a violent cough. She stared at him in horror at the implication of his words and actions. “I don’t want to be healed,” he whispered, confirming her suspicions.

Aika began closing his wounds at a slow pace, slow enough so he wouldn’t notice.

“Why?” she asked mutely.

To her absolute shock, his stoic face crumpled as tears streamed like molten silver down his cheeks.

“I just want to see her again,” he choked out. He just wanted to see Acier again. 

His tears and the sheer heartbreak in words made her heart clench. Aika steeled her resolve. She wasn’t going to let him do it no matter his reasons.

“No life is worth more than your own,” she spat, caught up in her own emotions. His attempt to take his own life brought back memories she would rather forget.

The Captain slackened in her hold, unable to retort. She instantly healed his wounds and watched as the blood receded. Aika picked him up with a sigh as he quickly lost consciousness at the abrupt changes to his body. Healing fatal wounds in this manner wasn’t recommended but it was necessary during battle.

“Is he alright?” Julius’ voice piped up out of nowhere. Her heart leapt to her throat. She turned around and there he was, a few meters away, brows furrowed, and eyes full of worry before they widened in surprise when he realized who he was talking to.

“Aika…” 

The roar of the battle and the clanging in her head deafened as she took in his appearance. Wild hair, stormy eyes, blood-smeared cheeks and singed robes that whipped around in tandem to spells being hurled behind him. 

She felt a sort of burning betrayal as she cursed her foolish heart because only one thought echoed in her mind:

He was breathtaking.

“Aika!” He exclaimed in alarm.

Julius was suddenly up in her space, forearm pressed against her collarbone as he pushed her aside. He stopped a flaming spear aimed at her back in its tracks as he barked,

“She’s an ally! Stand down!”

The Crimson Lion magic knight lowered his grimoire and looked helplessly at the frozen man next to him.

“Aika, please undo your spell on Vice Captain Nozel,” he commanded softly as she stared at him, wide-eyed.

Her spell fell as per his request and Nozel stumbled into an upright position, an indignant expression strewn across his face as he turned to Aika.

“Who are you? ” he asked shakely, and cleared his throat with an embarrassed flush.

“She is an ally, ” Julius asserted firmly. “We’ll take the Captain to the medical tent and you continue leading your men, understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” Nozel threw one last look at Aika before he ordered his men to focus on the enemy.

Julius turned to her with a grim face. “I will take us to the tent, if you are ready.” She nodded curtly. He laid an arm on her shoulder and she was whisked away, her vision adjusting to find that she was facing the heavy drapery of the medical tent.

A few healing mages around them jumped in alarm but quickly realized the injured man in Aika’s arms. She was quickly led to an empty bed with privacy curtains and she laid Captain Silva on it carefully as the healers took over and diagnosed him.

She explained his injuries and that she healed him but they wanted to be sure just in case.

Aika stepped back to let them do their thing and looked around to find Julius worryingly examining Silva’s prone form. He looked up and their eyes met.

Strangely enough, there wasn’t a shred of awkwardness in their gaze, but an intimacy of silent understanding, a mutual decision to set their yearning aside in the face of this war.

They both smiled in relief, almost in unison. He cocked his head at her.

“No hard feelings?” He mouthed. Aika nodded back, her heart lighter.

“No hard feelings.”

“I have to go,” he announced quietly as he bowed his head. She nodded again, her mood souring once more as she stared at the unconscious man next to her. She watched his back as he moved to leave the tent from the corner of her eye. She clenched her fist as indecision rocked within her, but she finally gave in to her first instinct.

“Be careful,” Aika called out. Julius whipped around in surprise and a grin lit up his face.

“Of course!” he replied eagerly, happy that she was actually speaking to him. “See you around!” And he vanished.

His enthusiasm brought a smile to her face but her mood was quickly interrupted by the sound of crashing waves as the ground shook. She braced herself against the metal railing of the bed’s headboard as she let out a heavy sigh.

That must be her Uncle Raymond with his grandiose water spells that could wipe out armies. She just hoped he wouldn’t use his mana zone spell that could choke people. That spell horrified even her of all people.

She shrugged off her backpack which stayed secure under her cloak and whipped out a chair. She plopped onto it wearily and glared at the silver-haired man next to her as if he was the reason for all her problems.

Aika slipped her gloves back on and rubbed her face with a groan as memories of friends and fellow comrades who have stood still and let themselves be ripped apart flashed in her mind’s eye.

She knew she shouldn’t care. He was not a friend of hers. In fact, he was quite rude to her, but this needless worry and giving into the empathy reminded that after all these years that she wasn’t corrupted, that she was still alive, that she was still human.

Aika watched with a proud grin as one last final move from Julius concluded the battle. Cheers erupted across the whole field when the Magic Knights realized their victory.

The Captains, with the exception of Silva, and the Wizard King gathered with the Diamond Kingdom’s Shining Generals to negotiate the terms of surrender. She desperately wanted to eavesdrop on their discussion but General Whomalt was still alive by the end of this battle and Aika promised him that the next time she saw him, he would be dead.

She made her way back to the medical tent and Silva was already up and about. He sat up on his bed and stared at his blanket-covered lap as emotions raced across his face. She silently strode over to her chair by his bed and he made no indication that he noticed her but Aika knew he did. He was most likely embarrassed by his moment of vulnerability in front of a near-stranger but she didn’t particularly mind it.

She sat down patiently and waited for him to speak but they just sat in silence.

“We won,” Aika informed in a subdued tone.

He grunted. His response irked her but she held her cool.

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” She assured him kindly.

“See that you don’t,” he snapped at her. She held her tongue but couldn’t help but sneer at his tone. This was exactly why she didn’t work with the Magic Knights as closely. Most of them she had observed were quite rude and had a superiority complex. His attitude was only making her miss her amulet even more.

“Arian!” A familiar voice exclaimed as the tent flaps flew open. It was her Uncle. Mages and injured Magic Knights around her suddenly scrambled to attention as the Wizard King homed in on the silver-haired Captain.

“Sir,” the embarrassed Captain gritted out. He pulled out a folded piece of parchment paper as Aika and Raymond nodded at each other in acknowledgement. She would need to tell her uncle at the very least so she can make sure that he talked to someone.

“Are you alright, Arian?” The Praying Mantis Captain boomed as he walked right in after the Wizard King. He pointedly ignored him and the other Captains as they voiced their concerns as well. He tossed his blanket aside and stood up as he handed the paper to her uncle.

“My resignation, Raymond.”

“What?!” His eyes darted between Silva’s cool face and the crumpled paper. “But the war just ended! You have still got loose ends to tie up before the resignation.”

He adjusted his uniform gruffly as he said, “I’ll let the Vice Captain take care of it.” He pushed past the captains, eager to leave. “He is more than capable.” He turned and looked back one last time. “But now, I must say my goodbyes to the men that served me.”

“What's the hurry, Arian?!”

Raymond’s question was followed by silence as Silva left. Everyone watched tensely at the bizarre exchange that raised more questions than anything.

“Well,” the Blue Rose Captain began as she cleared her throat. “We did say that we were going to resign right after the battle.” Her sharp eyes turned to the Wizard King. “I will hand mine in, tonight.”

All Captains except one echoed her sentiments and Raymond’s shoulders fell as his age seemed to catch up to him.

“And I would be the last to resign,” he sighed. He looked up at Julius and everyone’s attention turned to the Wizard King to-be. “I hope you are ready, Julius.”

The young Captain stood up straighter, his eyes eager and attentive for the responsibility that will soon be thrust upon him. 

“Though, I hope you do like paperwork,” Raymond laughed, knowing very well he doesn’t. “Because there’s going to be three times more work.”

All formality melted away as Julius groaned at the thought and the Captains laughed.

Aika released the breath she didn’t she realized she was holding. She just witnessed history firsthand, yet again, but it all felt so new to her. She touched her chest. 

Oh.

It wasn’t newness, no. She had witnessed far too much to feel as if anything was new. It was actually the gratitude that set her heart racing.

Notes:

- In the future, Julius will get character development, because as lovely as he is as a person, he can't be a centrist as a leader if he wants to create real change. - In this fic, you'll see him be more proactive with the kingdom's problems and actually use his power outside the Magic Knights. - I'm not only planning development for his character but also his powers. As I have heavily implied throughout my fic, Julius is not human here and we will see that more in the future as the secrets unravel. - I'd personally recommend reading the wiki page on the tree of sephiroth and even better, catch up with the manga. But you don't have to, bc by the time i get to the manga spoilers part of my fic, the anime will prolly be there(fingers crossed).

[kanamesharisenwrites]

kh’s story snippet celebration sendoff, entry #6

God, what do I even say about this piece? It's so old - the timestamp from my FF.net import says 2012 - and I don't remember much about it. I almost left it out of this collection after cringing my way through a re-read of the first paragraph. Then, I made myself reframe the narrative.

This piece needs to be here; it shows how far I've come as a writer.

Don't let anyone tell you that fanfic is a waste of time. Just look at this piece compared to my recent projects! I'm living proof that fanfic is every bit as valid for honing your craft as traditional written media

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Sai/Sakura Haruno Word Count: 2931 Genre: canon-divergence!AU Rating: T Warnings: canon-typical violence

... [ hypocritical ]

Pain.

The dull throb of injury greeted Sai as his consciousness reluctantly returned to him. This particular circumstance perplexed him greatly. Had he not been merely put to sleep? Sakura's loyalty was steadfast and her medical skills knew no equal but that of their esteemed Hokage, of this much he was certain. Therefore, the probability that this harm was inflicted by her drug, hastily administered though it was, seemed highly unlikely. No, this feeling was not akin to that of being poisoned. Nor did it seem to come from any external wound; a quick scan of his person negated that possibility. Yet, it was still very clear to him that all was not right or as it should be. His throat felt unbelievably tight, the sensation bringing to mind scenes of Naruto shoving complete bowls of ramen down his throat in a singular motion. Sai's heart raced uncontrollably, palpitating to a foreign rhythm, and his insides quaked. There was something wrong with him internally.

Nearby, his companions began to stir. As they also scanned for injuries, all the while cursing Sakura for her heroic stupidity, it became clear to Sai that he alone suffered from any malady. He rose gingerly, taken aback by how easily he could still function in spite of all his present symptoms, and questioned Kiba for his teammate's last known trajectory. The best course of action, for now, would be to find Sakura before his symptoms got worse. With but a nod, he left his temporary workmates and headed out in search of the pink-haired kunoichi.

Sai dashed through the woodland at breakneck speed, something as of yet unnamed urging him on. Something about the whole situation unsettled him. He should have anticipated Sakura's actions and been ready with a countermeasure. Becoming her victim was irresponsible and now his comrade could be engaged in a treacherous encounter with that traitor, possibly without backup; whether or not Kakashi had caught up to her in time remained to be seen. Her tenacity, even with her insane strength, would be no match for the Uchiha prodigy. It was as clear as needing air to breathe. Surely Sakura herself could see that. She had proven time and time again over that her intelligence was more than adequate. Why then would she willingly engage in actions where death was not only possible but the most probable outcome? The shinobi's stomach lurched, forcing him to stall his forward progress in favor of retching in the forest undergrowth. He had no time to waste now, his symptoms now progressing.

Another half-hour of hurdling over branches did little to ease his discomfort. A cold sweat, unrelated to his current exertions, came over Sai making his hands unnaturally clammy. Barely perceptible, yet uncontrollable shaking started to take a hold of him. His body was starting to go into shock. He would need to find her soon.

Sai lost all track of the distance he had traveled, the trees and thickets becoming but a verdant blur in the peripheral. It was of no consequence anyway. His mind was too clouded to focus on those kinds of details anymore. Instead he focused what was left of his cerebral capacity on what he considered to be his mission objectives: to find and determine the condition of one Sakura Haruno, and to have her administer a thorough health examination on his person. As Sai mentally rallied around these precepts, her chakra signature finally came into range. The worn shinobi redoubled his efforts. His reward finally came into view, accompanied by silver and gold and black, and Sai dropped from the sky with a resounding thud.

"Took you long enough to catch up." A weary, whiskered grin greeted him. "Sakura sure knows how to pack a punch, huh? And not just with her fist."

Sai merely nodded. His exertions had taken a toll on him and for the moment he was finding it hard to catch his breath. Non-verbal means of communication would have to do for the moment. And so his black eyes became intent on catching the attention of a pair of viridian ones. It did not take long.

"Sai? Are you okay?" Sakura gave her blonde teammate her half of their current burden, a half-dead kunoichi, and rushed over to Sai with healing chakra at the ready. "You look awful. My sleeping potion shouldn't have had any adverse effects. Were you attacked?"

The moment she touched his damp forehead, the symptoms began to ease. His heartbeat slowed to a near-normal pace and the tension in his muscles started to give way. "No. I... I don't..."

"I can't find anything wrong with you," the kunoichi replied after letting her chakra probe his entire form, puzzlement showing clearly on her face. "Talk to me, Sai. What's going on?"

"I woke up in pain, but I couldn't locate any wounds. It has to be something internal. I think my body started to go into shock. But..." Though his expression remained stoic, his eyes reflected confusion.

"But what?"

"I do not understand. You haven't treated me, but the symptoms are subsiding."

"Sakura," their tired sensei spoke up. "Check his tongue."

"Okay?" Sakura turned back to her patient. "You heard the man. Open up. Now, what am I looking for?"

"A seal. Danzo placed one on every member of Root. It was supposed to keep them quiet, but I have a feeling it sealed more than just their words."

"Are you sure, Sensei?" The pink head turned towards Kakashi for confirmation. "There's nothing here."

"The seal must have broken when Danzo died." The older man scratched his head. "Normally seals don't work like that. They stay in place even after the one who placed it there gets killed."

"I don't get it." Naruto chimed in. "Then why would Sai's seal be gone?"

"Well, his methods were questionable at best, but he was loyal to the village." Kakashi sighed. "My initial guess is that Sai has some information that Danzo thought may be of use to us in the event of his death. I doubt there's anything wrong with Sai. He's probably just feeling the after-effects of the seal being removed."

"I see. Then it could be possible..." She turned back to Sai, a sudden realization dawning in her eyes. "What were your symptoms? I need all of them in the order in which they appeared."

"Constricted airway, heart palpitations, a dull ache in my abdomen, nausea, shaking and cold sweats."

"Okay. You probably felt your throat, heart, and stomach first, right?" The girl tapped her cheek as she sorted out her theories.

"Yes."

"The nausea came later?" His nod confirmed some suspicions, so she continued with her line of questioning. "What were you doing when it came? Were you thinking about something?"

"I left the others to resume my mission. I..." The words left his mouth slowly, reluctant to be heard. "I was thinking that only a stupid kunoichi would drug her teammates so she could run into a suicide mission alone."

"Sai." His name fell softly from her lips and his eyes became glassy. Her lithe arms lifted to embrace his neck. "I'm sorry I worried you."

The warmth of her body against his was strangely comforting, so Sai chose to mimic her posture. "Did he hurt you?"

"Yes." The word came out as a sob and Sakura squeezed him just a bit tighter. "But I'll be okay."

"Good." Sai closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then detached himself from Sakura. "An injured medic is of no use to her team."

"You stupid..." Sakura paused mid-punch. The faint track of a fallen tear graced his tactless cheek. Breaking his face no longer held any appeal, so she contented herself with a measured thump to his shoulder. "Whatever. Let's just get home."

Chapter 2: reclamation

Running without sparing the slightest moment to turn back, determination and desperation lent their power to her limp limbs. In a maze of ever-growing darkness, she wandered. Alone. The silence filled her soul with dread, its death toll ringing in her ears. How long had she been running, been searching? It felt like countless fathoms of time with the quiet, suffocating loneliness contorting her senses. But onwards she ran just the same, hoping beyond all hope that something, anything would change this state of purgatory in which she found herself. Just what had she been searching for? It had been so long, even she forgot. All that was left was to go on. And though she knew to do so bordered heavily on the side of insanity, on she went. And on. And on. Always running. Always moving forward. She was hurtling herself headlong into her destiny and the outcome, she remembered only as it became too late, was always the same. The electric blade, crackling with some emotion between love and hate, ravaged the recess that once held her heart and ended her struggle. She was caught in the red.

Sakura awoke in a cold sweat, gasping for breath. Her hands came to her chest of their own accord, trying in vain to cover the ache of betrayal that now resided there. It was becoming a morning ritual. It took but a moment to collect her faculties, the shock value of such torturous nightmares dulling with each successive night that they had been endured. It had been ten days since her brush with death at the hands of her most beloved and Sakura was no shrieking violet.

The first night had been the worst. In her panic, she had roused the rest of the team and their prisoner with her struggling. When the spell of the nightmare finally broke, thanks to a sound slap from their venerable sensei, Sakura whispered her fake assurances and rearranged her bedroll. She could feel the knowing eyes of the scarlet prisoner on her for the rest of the night. Contempt for her own weakness, rather than that of his discarded pawn, ran through Sakura's veins under the scrutiny of that gaze. Sleep would continue to elude her.

The next few days were but a blur. Arriving at the village, handing in mission reports, and reporting for duty at the hospital were second nature enough that she could perform these tasks on autopilot. She had joined the ranks of the walking dead. It took a couple of days, but eventually, her friends staged an intervention. It took another bit of friendly violence, this time supplied by an indignant Ino, to set her straight, but it was effective. She went to plotting. After all, one should play to one's strengths and Sakura had always been known to have an intelligent head on her shoulders.

It took a couple more days for her to realize that there were holes, numerous and large ones, in the scheme she was cooking up. Like it or not, Sakura was going to have to call in some back-up. Invitations went out and she lost no time in starting preparations. Time would be of utmost importance; some of the major players could not be counted upon to stay in the village for any length of time.

One by one they arrived, exchanging smiles and civilities before being seated at the kunoichi's small dining table. Sakura did a fair job of hostess duties, pouring tea and filling plates with second and third portions, in between fielding off-color comments between the two younger males attending. When the eating and drinking and carousing seemed to slow, she smiled and began clearing the used dishes.

"It was a pleasant meal, Sakura." The silver-haired shinobi seated at the head of the gathering handed over his empty plate. "But what are we really here for?"

"Observant as always, sensei." The girl added his plate to the pile growing near the sink. "I think it's time we discussed what should be done about Sasuke."

"Sakura." Her name came across Naruto's lips as an impatient growl. "There is nothing to discuss. I already promised you that I would bring him home to you. I don't go back on my promises."

"I'm not asking you to. I'm just asking how we intend on doing it." Sakura spoke carefully, making eye contact with all there as she did so.

"We?" The blonde stood up, knocking the chair out from under him as he did so. "Oh no! I don't think so. You're not going anywhere near him again! It's my responsibility. I'll bring him home."

"We've already discussed this." A sigh came from the direction of their sensei. "Sasuke is my responsibility. He was placed in my care."

"No, sensei. It's me he wants and I'm..."

The table between them splintered, a feminine fist having smashed through it in frustration. "Shut up both of you!" The furious kunoichi bit out. "Have you forgotten what happened the last time one of us tried to take him on by ourselves? Huh?  Huh  ?" Sakura paused to look at them. "Well, I do. I see it every single freakin' night in my nightmares. He was going to kill me. And he was going to enjoy it. Now when I say 'we' that's exactly what I mean. So   we   had better start coming up with a plan so   we  can deal with this once and for all the next time we see that traitorous bastard. Understand?"

"Fine. I get it." Naruto gave his sulky consent.

"You know he's not going to come quietly." The reminder came from Kakashi. "It will be easier to kill him than to capture him."

"But Kakashi-sensei!"

"I know, Naruto, but he might not give us a choice."

"It's fine," Sakura spoke up. "If we have to kill him, it's fine. There's nothing left of our Sasuke in there anyway."

"Sakura?"

"Come on, Naruto. We're deluding ourselves if we think that we'll bring him back and everything will be just fine. He wants to destroy the village and everyone it! If we don't do it, the powers that be will just execute him. If he has to die, I'd rather it be by our hands in the manner we think is best. I only see three choices. We kill him, they kill him or he kills all of us. And if I have to pick one, I pick the one where we get to have the most say." For the first time in days, Sakura gave in to the desire to break down.

"No." A soft, monotone voice cut through the discussion. Three sets of eyes turned his direction in wonder. "You are wrong, hag. There are four choices."

Sakura wiped her wet face with the back of her hands. "Sai, I don't understand. What other choice? Do you actually want to try to save him? Is that the choice you're talking about? Why would you? He's nothing to you."

"Please do not misunderstand me. This is not out of compassion. It is just the opposite actually."

"Yeah, I don't get it either." Naruto scratched his cheek in puzzlement.

"He has rejected the bonds he created with all of you. He has caused you pain. Even now, he makes the hag cry." Sai paused to rub his chest. "He does not deserve death. That is too light a punishment for his transgressions."

"What do you suggest?" Kakashi leaned forward, resting his elbows on what was left of Sakura's table.

"There are things worse than death and we will give those things to Sasuke." The smirk he gave them instead of his usual smile seemed genuine, laced with just a bit of malice. "I have a plan."

The rest of Team Kakashi eyed each other, looking for the unspoken cues as to what each was thinking. Each saw what they felt mirrored back at them, but no one wanted to speak up. No one wanted to be the one to confirm their resolve to do whatever it takes. They were about to change the rules. Sakura would regain her heart by first breaking it. Naruto would leave his childhood behind once and for all. Kakashi would learn to put the needs of the many above his own selfish wishes. They would do what their mentors could not. They would be the ones to break the cycle. They would rain retribution upon one of their own.

"Fine. But if we're going to talk nefarious plans, let's take it to the sofa. I'd rather not get splinters." The kunoichi glanced back at the other half of her team. "Oh, and you two owe me a new table."

"But Sakura..."

"Of course. It's no problem." Kakashi covered the blonde's mouth with a firm hand until the girl turned away. "Don't worry, Naruto. Yamato owes me."

"I can hear you guys, you know."

Darkness invaded her dreams once again. She was running, always running. Desperate and determined. Always moving on. Always moving forward. Again, not a person was in sight, but she did not feel alone. The inky air that enveloped her did not frighten her anymore. It felt... alive. She felt the familiar burn of her overexerted muscles. She knew where she was going. She was meeting her destiny. It was unavoidable. She could hear the lightning closing in, causing the hair on her neck to stand on end. But this time as her destiny hit critical mass, the collision with her heart imminent, the crackle of the electric blade was drowned out by a soft trickling of black liquid. The sound grew and grew until it became palpable, swallowing the chidori in its entirety. The red receded and refused to return.

[dream-wreck]

Count On You

Surprise! “Count On Me” has an unintended part 2.

Chapter 2 Title: Count On You Rating: G Word Count: 1,668 Description: When the office door closes, Neil can be alone in his own world. That's not always a good thing.

…..

Of all things, Neil missed spaghetti the most. Jarred red sauce, fifty-cent pasta, pre-grated parmesan (if he was feeling especially bougie). Nothing could beat it. He didn’t miss the reflux, but he’d deck his esophageal halls with ulcers if it meant eating a real meal, a heaping bowl of comfort food that would leave him full and sluggish and knock Insomnia flat on its back.

Neil ran his thumb over a medicine-purple protein bar wrapper, smoothing out the perforated ends between the flesh of his thumb and index finger. The yellow POWER BAR logo rippled and glimmered under his office lights like a cheap trick.

Clearly, the graphic designers had no idea that their chosen font and colors made the meal replacement look like a cartoon villain’s mind-controlling sugar bar. This one was supposed to taste vaguely reminiscent of peanut butter, which he’d discovered was easier to stomach than the artificial vanilla flavor that stuck to his tongue for hours after the fact.

He tore the wrapping down the middle. The sickly brown bar revealed itself, shedding its tacky cape.

He took a vengeful bite out of the bar, feeling as triumphant as he possibly could while chewing something that tasted like cardboard soaked in old peanut oil. Just last week, these weren’t so bad. He could stomach them and they had tasted pretty decent.

I was thinking of you the entire time, he’d eventually say to a heaping bowl of angel hair pasta and marinara.

Eventually. One day, soon. When all this was over, Neil could quit skipping meals and popping pain pills like tic tacs and Mentos.

The single bite of bar began to disintegrate in his mouth the same way a bad piece of gum chewed too long turns into a compound of sand and slime. Neil choked the mixture down and lunged for his water bottle. Empty. He turned to the mini fridge and pulled out an ice cold energy drink that had been sitting on standby, untouched, for months.

���Don’t tell Eva,” Neil said, snapping the tab open in the vacant room. The drink went down cold and sweet, washing the gritty paste from his tongue. He’d regret the caffeine in an hour or two, but for now, the familiar bubbles were worth whatever he had coming later.

A lot of things had become worth it recently. He banished the pitiful excuse for a protein bar to the bottom drawer, sitting down in his desk chair, staring at the paperwork that so desperately needed filing. A fib, of course. He’d never filed paperwork on time in his life. Lying to Eva....Neil had yet to discern if that was worth keeping any secret.

What secret? In the end, what could be worth keeping from her? That Neil Watts was mortal? Extraordinary, but mortal. Extraordinarily mortal.

He thought of Eva sitting outside the men’s room while he retched, stretching to keep pace with him in the hall, reminding him about the simple things. There is so much said in reminding someone to take care of themselves in the little ways, to drink water, to take time. Neil wished he were a better listener, that his pride would crumble for a day or two, long enough for him to set good habits and be honest -- with himself, with Eva, with everyone.

Fluorescent humming grated his ears, burned his eyes. He felt new sickness swelling. He shut his eyes to the room’s blue white.

He’d worry a lot less if Eva would just let it drop. She cared too much, that was her problem. She was usually good at hiding it. At work, of course, surrounded all day by dying people and their repressed traumas, you need to find a way to push through it all without completely breaking down, balancing visible empathy with healthy detachment.

Crying in front of the clients doesn’t get the job done, and it certainly doesn’t look good on evaluations.

Their particular line of work called for expert compartmentalization. Eva had mastered concealing a naturally compassionate disposition behind cold professionalism, efficiency, and control. It was never just another day at the office for her, even if she’d sometimes seem unfeeling when the chips were down.

Neil knew her too well. She always wanted to help. She was a problem solver, always trained on an objective, never one to dwell, to stutter-step, to second guess. She never let things lie. Why should a problem go unsolved?

He used to hold that against her, that she couldn’t let things be, that she could get a little control-crazy when things shifted from their right places into wrong places, drifting away from order like moons out of orbit. But she wasn’t the one who had to cheat on her entrance exams. And between the two of them, she seemed to have her life under control.

Neil Watts had looked to Eva Rosalene for a lifetime of answers. He could count on her for anything. She always came in clutch (he’d been watching a lot of Esports streams lately, picking up on the lingo during his late night nausea fits).

It wasn’t a question of whether or not Eva cared about him. It was a question of, if Neil truly believed in Eva Rosalene, why on God’s green earth had he not told her a lick of truth about what was really going on? He dove down for a good answer, or even a scrap of a convoluted selfish reasoning, but resurfaced empty.

In his coat pocket, a little blue bottle pressed against Neil’s thigh. He crossed his arms, but he only grew more aware of the light pressure resting there. It annoyed him, more than anything, like feeling a strand of hair brush along your skin, but just when you think you’ve swiped it away, there it is again, brushing just light enough to frustrate, to aggravate, to piss you off. Neil bounced his knee, trying to shake the coat off his leg, but the bump beneath the white cloth just moused its way back and forth, prodding.

He should do that paperwork. Listen to music or something to pass the time.

His stomach roiled. Neil slipped a hand into his pocket. He closed his fist around the smooth bottle, ran his thumb over the cap, catching his thumbnail along the ridges there. Comforting, he thought. The action really did calm his nerves.

Eva was across the hall. Fifteen steps away. A knock away. A conversation away.

Neil didn’t bother to set a stopwatch so he never knew how long he sat there, his thumb running back and forth over the ridges in the lid while his mind wandered, imagining the many ways that conversation could go, the look on Eva’s face, the disappointment. Daydream Neil started crying, but Real Neil didn’t think that was very dignified, so he started from the beginning, approaching Dr. Eva Rosalene in her office. Figuring she’d probably be busy, he reset to the cafeteria. A nice talk over lunch. When Eva burst into tears and people from the surrounding tables looked their way, Neil chose the park, even though they weren’t in the habit of going to the park together and never had been. But it was quiet, undisturbed. A gorgeous day in this self-revising simulation. He guided Eva to a bench. They sat down. Eva told him to take his time, that she knew something was wrong, that she was glad Neil could finally talk to her. Yes, he was ready. It would be amazing to finally say it out loud. To someone else. To confide. To confess….

He opened his eyes to the harsh light.

Confess? What was that word doing, flitting about in his stream of consciousness?

An email notification pinged on his desktop. He moved to open it with a click. It read:

If you’re up for it, they’re showing Inception and the Cowboy Bebop movie tonight. It’s the weirdest double feature ever so I have to go, it’s the law.

Popcorn’s light on the stomach, right? Let me know, my treat. --Eva

Perfect. He could talk to her then. Simple, easy as that. All that melodramatic daydreaming over nothing. He could talk to her then. Besides: free food.

Neil’s stomach suddenly felt very, very empty. His usual nausea felt like he was too full and ready to burst.

But it suddenly felt as if something small inside were eating away at everything, the lining and the tissue and the bile, hungrily consuming out of a gluttonous jealousy that which consumes. And when there would be nothing left, that small something would eat the air and the Nothing until an impossible vacuum remained. And Neil would also remain, nothing more than a container to conceal a parasitic anomaly, cursed never to be filled again.

His hand closed around the little blue bottle. The pills inside stirred, knocking against the walls of their plastic prison.

The emptiness in his stomach slowly spread into his hips and ribs, knees and neck, his head and the space behind his eyes, until his whole body felt hollow and the hollow spaces felt sore.

This moment was nearly one of those moments that change everything. Very important, nearly pivotal, but not to be realized, lacking the crucial self-awareness that would have sent things this way and that, particularly along different this-es and better thats. The manner in which a single rock falls prevents or triggers a landslide.

Neil drew the bottle from his pocket, poured two little white pills into his palm, tossed them back. They scraped down the dry walls of his throat, as though clawing for a foothold, before eventually settling in the cavern of his stomach, and almost instantaneously, the pain began to dwindle.

Neil didn’t stop to consider the impossibility of this. If he had, it would have made all the difference. But he didn’t, so it did not, and things seemed to remain relatively the same, the distant sound of tumbling rocks drowned by electric humming.

--------

Chapter 2 end notes: Ended up somewhere unexpected, as writing usually does. My fingers like to run without me sometimes. Pleasant surprises though! Thank you for supporting "Count On Me"! You all are the best :)

Wubnjeft

...

I've been reading a lot of science fiction lately.

[soranihimawari]

Shatter

A story in several parts:

tw: reader chan’s sibling is a toxic force to be reckoned with; officers mentioned in later parts (civil servants for young adults); mentions of accidents and scarring [both emotional and physical]; young adult 18+ for strong and suggestive language 

word count: 6.8 K

tagging @oikawa-obvs​ @m0nstergeneration20xx​ @smolbludandelions

the characters and other tie in works: 

seijoh 4: oikawa, iwazumi, hanamaki, mattsun

spin off of the Running at 6a.m. feat. hanamaki and his s/o [plus s/o family]

Throughout this story, mattsun & q learn how important the actions of others does not define a set path.

Next >>

I.

“If I get one you like, you can have it,” you say with a wide smile. You still remember the third day of the last month of the year. You were nearly on the cusp of being eighteen within a few short weeks. You had heard a few weeks prior that one of your friends from middle school had moved to across town once her relatives agreed to taking her in during the summer leading into your respectful third years. Recently your were surprised your friend was so openly affectionate toward a certain strawberry blonde. You  would tease her saying that she was insane for having him wake her up at six in the morning during one of your late night voice calls.

“Well, Makki-kun is part of our school’s volleyball team,” she says. You sigh because your friend is right. “Besides aren’t you still interested in getting your hands a little dirty? I’m in serious need of my right hand mechanic to give me a hand running a few diagnostics…”

“I’ll clear it with Naka-one,” you say. “You know how much my sister worries.”

“Says the woman with the muscle memory of a saint,” your friend’s voice is singing sweetly into the receiver. “Besides, I think I can’t keep hiding my best friend away from those giants.”

“I suppose you’re right. Meet me at the station on Saturday, ok?”

“You got it. I can finally prove to Makki-kun’s friends that I do have other friends.”

II:

[Saturday//Ice Cream & Journals\\]

Winter was no joke as she briskly shared her wind across the neighborhood you found yourself visiting. You had arrived not too early in the mid-afternoon; you had an overnight Hershel bag with your various journalistic tools stacked in according to importance. You were a designer by instinctual honing skills whereas your friend was a hands on mechanical genius in her spare time. The two of you used to race up and down the hills of your childhood streets. Your drive to inspire others was something your sister had maintained with a skilled hand, but you were defiant against the dainty life she was grooming you to try to emulate. The argument reaches its pinnacle the night before you were supposed to be leaving to visit your friend:

“Your hobby is just that! A hobby! You can’t keep losing more hours of sleep over a career our parents didn’t think suitable for a teenager like you!”

Your markers container was the closest thing to your sister’s hands and instead of strangling you, she knocks over the matte boxes you so ideally spent hours recataloging. You say nothing, that is until those hands of hers reach for the journals you kept your portfolios of car designs is in her hands. 

“Don’t!” was the last word you were able to yell before the sounds of tearing roars into your eardrums. You are left alone collecting the shreds of your dreams on to the kitchen table. Your sister was as mad as a hatter, but you were too. If her madness only saw the way you clung to the last bit of your individuality like it was a godsend. 

So in the morning, you send a message to your friend who meets you at the train terminal. She dons sunglasses and extends a pastel jacket to you; the jacket has your nickname stitched on it with the sigil of a craftsman:

“I got your message. Man, you sister is really fucked up,” she says. 

“I know,” you retort. 

“You even cut your hair into a more asymmetrical cut. It looks good on you Q.”

Q is for Quantum. Your parent who birthed you chose that perhaps having born two daughters roughly seven years apart was not the best idea, but alas, here you were still wandering the corner of the outskirts of a city close to the palisades your host lives in.

The mod scarf you brought with you is wrapped around your neck in a double knot. The rest of your winter attire is kept simple in the various hues of indigo and splashes of cerulean pearls. Your best friend, you notice, is a bit more tan than before, but her ever present pizazz shines through like it always does. Women can be anything they set their minds to so long as they have the right know-how. 

“I have the guys meeting us up at the ice cream parlour not too far from here,” she says stifling an amused laugh when you scrunch your nose in a slight snarl. “What? You did want to meet the person I’m dating after all. And not to worry, this is only a small gathering.”

Your snarl subsides only to remain as neutral as possible. You nod as your friend rounds the corner of a children’s park across from the ice cream parlour bells chime when the door is pulled open by other patrons.

“Thank you,” you and your friend say walking through the open door which automatically closes behind you both. Your eyes are averted for a moment toward the glowing holographic menu cards above the cashier. The ice cream parlor is paired with an adjoining coffee bar as you take a look around. Your friend has a nickname too and the moment you hear a subtly calm voice call out to her, you realize you recognize the voice (from the photos she sends you, you know their names only as ichigo no kori, cinefile, pretty boy, and…) 

“Oh look, they’re all on time for once,” your friend says as she takes the lead with you close behind. When you reach the table, you unwrap your scarf from your neck.

“Makki, your girlfriend brought a friend,” the cinefile says. His winter attire is typically laid back as far as you could see; he donned a hoodie under his jean jacket and matching slacks. The person to his left, is the pretty boy. Apparently he was the aforementioned princely type who was more popular and it clicks in your brain why: Seijoh has a reputation for being a powerhouse. Then your eyes shift to the strawberry ice haired neighbor you were told so much about from several text conversations you had had. 

“The chisana josei has a right to bring whomever she likes, Iwazumi,” the baritone voice is curious as he eyes you quietly. 

“Of course she does,” your friend winks at you. You hear her whisper a play nice to you as she takes her place at the table next to her beau. You roll your eyes after your friend sits down, you shake your head like an etch and sketch. New slate for the weekend. I’m just here for a few days to give my sister a few days of quiet. Your consciousness rumbles.

“She’s awfully quiet,” the prince chuckles when you make a face. “Is it because she thinks I'm handsome?”

“Oh my god, the world doesn't revolve around you Oikawa,” the one named Iwazumi says through gritted teeth.

“Boys, boys, you’re both pretty, but remember Makki is dating me,” your friend reminds them and her boyfriend smirks. “Have a seat Q, before you actually start growing roots. Mattsun, be a dear and make some room for my best friend will ya?”

“I prefer to stand,” you said with a shrug. “If you want to flip for it, go right ahead.”

“You sure? I mean, Mattsun does make a pretty decent chair...” your friend’s voice trails off when she sees your gloved hand open and close. 

“That’s easy for you to say to an old friend,” you say when you take off your backpack when you hand it to her. “You’re not the one who was kicked out of the house again, so please excuse me if I decline the invitation for now.”

The conversation moves on after Makki challenges Iwazumi to another arm wrestling match while Oikawa heads to the counter to order a round of hot cocoa because it had already been sanctioned it was his turn to pay. Your friend converses at the end of the table with you and Mattsun together trying to act as a buffer between the most withdrawn people in the group. 

“Mattsun, did you know that Q is an excellent designer? She helped me forge the gas tank for the bike I use,” your friend sings your praises. How does she know what to say to push your buttons like that? Mattsun is apathetic, yet upon closer inspection of his softened features, he reminds you of an older cat. One who has both a playful and mischievous personality and your imagination wonders how fast you’d fall for him not knowing he was wondering the same thing. The middle blocker keeps a neutral expression as he stands up to help Oikawa with the drink carriers with the mugs. After a rocky start, you realize that the group is not so bad. You were now a group of six third years and you liked the odds of having a small unit composed of your best friend and her reverse harem. They walk with you two all the way back to their respective blocks and when Iwazumi along with Oikawa branch off, you are left with your best friend, Makki, and Mattsun in your company

“Six in the morning again?” your friend sighs. Her breath is caught in the chill air when he kisses her temple. You see how smitten they are for each other and while you had just survived an hour into the prolonged sabbatical, you wonder if you would eventually get a shot.

“We may have lost the game chisana josei, but at this point, I think it’s just Oikawa wanting to make sure we’re still sharp.”

“If you say so, but I’m not going to be joining you. It’s too cold,” she teases. “Q’s here to hang with me.”

“I’m sure I can find something to do for the meantime tomorrow,” you answer. “I don’t want to inconvenie--”

“She can run with me,” Mattsun speaks up, scratching his cheek. He had this quiet charm about him. The offer throws you off course for a little bit in the afternoon sun. 

“What do you think, Q? You up for a little excursion tomorrow?”

“Sure. It couldn’t hurt. You trust these two.Techinically dating one, but that’s besides the point.” The two of you laugh before realizing you set up a first date right under your nose. 

“Careful with this one Mattsun,” your friend teases, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. Your bag is now carried on one of your shoulders after you leave the cafe. “Q is really one of a kind. A gem if you will. See you guys tomorrow morning. If it’s snowing, we’re both staying indoors and you two can run together…”

It didn’t snow the following morning.

--House Hours--

You heard movie nights were a tradition, so you had tagged along with your host for the weekend away from home. The first day you had arrived, you had hot cocoa with her ‘reverse harem’ as she would like to call it followed by having dinner with her aunt and uncle; the following morning and true to their words, both Makki and Mattsun picked you two up for the daily morning run which ended with your friend getting another piggyback ride from her boyfriend (and you wonder why she fakes it from time to time, but it’s worth the way Makki’s ears burn a scarlet hue), yet you keep a steady pace much to the other party’s delight; the rest of the second day was filled with you trying to piece back together the shredded blueprints your sister ripped in front of your face. You look at the scraps tossed on the floor of the spare bedroom you were staying in and when the aunt of your best friend walks in to ask you a question, she doesn’t proceed with it since your sniffling kicked in her maternal mode: you explain to her you allow yourself to feel horribly for about five to ten minutes daily and you move on about your day, however after this particularly rudeness your sister had showcased, you needed more time before you were able to head back to your suburb. Her niece had explained the situation already a few days prior to your train arriving, but to see the damaging effects it had on you, her aunt calmed you down with some sage advice:

“Your faith is shaken, but you still believe. Give ‘em hell kiddo. I got you,” she says pulling you into a side hug. “Now, shall we make some tea? I think you deserve a break.”

Your friend came back from running an errand to the store because she wanted to buy a few more strips of tape as well as another set of trail mix with the granola clusters you like. See, you were invited at the request of the benevolent prince to his home to indulge in a movie night. “Makki said we’re going to start off the movie night at Oiks’ place with whatever you want to watch. It was Mattsun’s idea too apparently,” your friend says, handing you a hair elastic. 

“Can you ask them if Oikawa is ok with playing ‘His Girl Friday’?”

“Sure thing.”

You two had dressed in similar fashions lately due to the steady drop in temperature.A lot of muted royal colors were your in your wheelhouse of clothes you had brought with you, so tonight it was forest green tweed pants layered with a peasant belted sweater dress. Your host had snapped a photo of you getting ready and she nearly choked back a laugh when you scold her for sending it to her boyfriend. 

“You look stellar,” she says when she brushes her hair back into a loose ponytail. 

“Do I though? When was the last time you saw the scars the fiberglass left on my shoulder, chise?”

“Seventh grade,” she answers. “Scars or not, you’re still my best friend. Even if you just made a portmanteau of the harem’s nickname for me.”

You bop your head and laugh. “I suppose you’re right… we should get going, yeah?”

Oikawa house, 19:32

You walk side by side with your friend after she mentions it was her turn to bring the snacks. You divide the work explaining that you know what they need more than you do. Although all dreams must end, your life was not some hallmark film. Sometimes the hardest thing and the right ones are the same, your subconscious reminds you to be more freeing of your worries.

“Let go have some fun,” you mumble. You reach the counter with your friend ahead of you. She had the usual assortment of candy to mix into the popcorn, she noticed you have new pens and a crossword puzzle. 

“Crossword puzzles in ink was always something I wanted to try,” your voice is confident. “Besides, didn’t you say the boys were providing the food?”

When the final tally was tabulated, you leave the store together and head north at the next intersection, you two walk reminiscing your play days together.

“Oh! Your mother was so angry,” you friend says laughing about the time you stole one of her baking sheets to go sledding. “Wasn’t she going to use that pan for the crescents at the holiday party?”

“Yeah, she was. Haha,” your laugh is a foreign sound. However it is a sound you don’t often make anymore. 

“You miss her too,” you friend says as she stops in front of a modern home. 

“What child doesn’t?” You ask looking up at the sky. 

The constellations twinkle a tarnished image of a family who prided themselves in raising functional perfected youths and while your sister doted on your parents every whim, you rebelled. The rebellion sparked many fears for your family; a tomboy with a high marks should not get into scuffles on the school yard. Such a fiery spirit could only be doused for so long. You were allowed to keep your hobby of drawing because it’s what calms you the doctors mentioned. Ever since the first cold snap when you lost your mother (you were a child in the seat behind her solving a crossword in pencil) in a hit and run, the last embers of creativity sparked a carnal desire to be free. Yet here you were seven years later with a sister so emotionally damaged who in her toxic mindset didn’t understand that for you, art and designing (like the paint job you oversaw before your childhood neighbor moved across town) for automotive purposes was your way to find balance. The girl who moved across town to be close to family had a stronger support system, but after hearing what her aunt had to say it suddenly makes sense, so when she calls you out from your trance, you remember you are always evolving: keep moving. One step at a time. 

“Oikawa’s place is this one? Wow he really is a prince with a castle,” you joke in the front walkway. 

“I know right? I know he’s one of the top setters in the prefecture, but with all those interviews he does, it helps, haha. Mind holding this real quick?”

The small convenience store bag is passed to you to hold for a moment while your friend knocks thrice times. 

On the inside the boys were talking amongst themselves. It had been three days since you arrived for your holiday, and each morning after your first night, you woke up at six to run with half of the team (Makki, Mattsun, you, and your host). 

“Q is really good at keeping up with us,” Mattsun says. There is a moment where he notices his friends stop talking. They figure it out and tease the tallest middle blocker like he was discovering a crush for the very first time. 

“Oh~ is our little Mattsukawa finally growing up?” Oikawa cooed. Luckily Iwazumi’s shuts him up saying to get the door. 

Makki sends Mattsun a text and judging by his best friend’s face, Makki confirms his disposition. Iwazumi mentions he’d be heading to the couch in the living room to create more space for the girls and Oikawa. 

“Chisana mentioned you wanted to watch ‘His Girl Friday,’ so it’s already queued up.”

“Yeah, it’s really well written. Thank you,” you carry on the conversation as naturally as Oikawa points out the half bathroom in case you need it out of anything you can have your friend show you where things are since this wasn’t the first time everyone’s been over since the school year has started. 

“No problem. Ah! Here we are,” Oikawa’s arm extends outward to showcase the kitchen area where the rest of group was. Makki greeted your friend first and you wave politely. You say a quick hello to Iwazumi and you know if you could hear a stare, you would when you greet Mattsun last. 

“Greeted him last, huh?” you friend muses. 

“You greeted your strawberry first,” you argue back. 

“I don’t mind,” Mattsun says, his voice is hauntingly rich like the darkened wood finish on the tables outside. He leans in a little toward you before he stands he whispers in your ear, “you look pretty.” Your mood changed slightly as you hear his compliment. Then you remember the company you are in front of.

“We’ll go on ahead,” Makki suggests as he grabs the bowl of popcorn he separated for your friend to dump all the candies in. You nod when your friend silently slides you both kit-kat minis for luck.

“I heard you,” you say softly before you tap the back of the middle blocker’s hand. “C’mon, let’s not keep our friends waiting.”

Mattsun doesn’t give you the opportunity to remove you hand because he turns his palm up and you run your fingers barely ghosting over his future line from palm reading; you both hold a conversation behind curious eyes. 

“Leave them alone, they’ll be alright,” your friend says in a lower tone. 

Makki backs up the sentiment his girlfriend states with a stern glare at both Oikawa and Iwazumi, as one of them clicks the console control and the opening credits start to play. 

And just once, you remember what your scars mean: it’s kind of fun to do the impossible. You eat the KitKat your friend left behind as you walk away from the kitchen and sit next to Iwazumi. Mattsun observes this and decides to take matters into his own hands literally. He walks toward Oikawa’s den area, he chooses to sit on the floor in front of you like a guard dog throughout the rest of the film. The film wraps up while the next film was being chosen. When the conversation goes on much longer than expected, you can excuse yourself for a moment back to the kitchen to pick up your crossword puzzle; you cross back to the other side of the den’s layout to sit down where you were earlier. Your pen is in your hand (youyou had tucked into the bag) as you begin to solve the first puzzle. 

“I’m just saying horror movies are great,” Oikawa said. “Sci fi too.”

“Then it shouldn’t be that hard to choose,” you quip without looking up from your booklet. Your pen moves diligently as you flip over to the next page. To be quite honest, you aren’t really paying that much attention to notice Iwazumi and Mattsun switched places. 

“Twilight Zome collection it is!” Oikawa exclaimed. He pressed play. 

The evening draws to a close once you see that almost everyone had taken short catnaps around each other. You questioned whether or not the boys slept, but at least one or two of your company stayed awake.You close the crossword puzzles when Mattsun turns his head to look at you; you quirk an eyebrow at him You two were the only ones awake during this round of animated featurettes, so when Mattsun reaches for one of your hands he forces you forward a little too much, but you stop yourself from toppling over. You whisper something to him, causing him to make room for you on the floor; when you are sitting next to him, you lean into the side of his arm comfortably. 

“My my, someone is affectionate today,” you tease. 

“You don’t make it any easier,” he whispers in low tones to you. 

“I suppose that is true. Is this ok? I mean, your face is more impressionable now than before,” you call him out on the subtle changes of his features. 

“Is it? I haven’t noticed. My running partner is improving,” he tells this to you when you hold his hand in yours again. Neither of you want to let go.

“I think this is the beginning of something new,” you say calmly. “I’m still healing,you know.”

Instead of an answer, he shows you his understanding through squeezing your hand in a gentle manner: ‘you don’t need to run; you’re fine as you are.’ 

A couple minutes go by before you nod off. Mattsukawa was about to ask you a question, but chuckles lightly to himself that his question would be saved for another time. To him you are much more than a casual acquaintance of his best friend’s girlfriend. You’re shaping up to be someone he likes to know more of; you gravitate towards each other and now perhaps he realizes the appeal of having someone be a constant in life. There are many people who take the time to learn everything about the person they are crushing on, yet you and him are laid back enough to balance out your friends’ personality. You on the other hand are learning to forgive yourself one day at a time, but it’s the first time someone else is willing to wait for you. How long, you don’t know, and yet here was this casual acquaintance from your  best friends new neighborhood willing to wait for you to feel better about yourself. Mattsukawa tells you how he wants to hang out with you tomorrow; just the two of you. You were lucid enough to agree. 

Next >>

[seasonofthegeek]

Drift Away, Chapter 1

It is a known fact that I am vampire trash so I decided to play in the My Hero Academia universe since I’ve already got some Miraculous vampire trash fanfics, haha. 

___

“You’re quite beautiful, you know.”

Eijiro Kirishima blinked wearily, hoping the voice in his head would fade away like everything else around him. His eyes were so dry that his lids may as well be made out of sandpaper for how painful the action was. Worse, the little bit of energy it took seemed to make the voice louder.

“The color red suits you. Let’s make your hair match those pretty eyes, shall we?”

A low keening sound filled the dark room and it took him a moment to realize he was the one making it.

“You’re boring me, Eijiro. It’s no fun if you don’t kill them. Rip his throat out or I’m afraid I’ll have to punish you.”

Everything hurt but his fangs ached the worst. He was almost glad he couldn’t leave the small cottage. There would be no controlling his appetite out in the world now. Small mercies for a starved vampire who didn’t enjoy killing. Maybe he should consider himself lucky.

“I’m going out. You’re to stay here until I return.”

With a thrumming ache that travelled up his spine, he remembered the fake smile she gave him as she spoke, the cold eyes that showed her words for the lie they were.

“You won’t leave the cottage. You won’t feed. You won’t use your power. You won’t disobey me.”

And then she was gone, her sire command settling him in place, trapping him at the tiny dining room table in the small cabin in the middle of a secluded forest until her return.

He tried to swallow, and fire scorched his throat. Why was he awake? He’d drifted in and out of consciousness for years, but his mind was so fuzzy that he knew this last time had probably been longer than ever before.

A small thought filled him with hope and dread. Was she back? Had his sire finally returned to free him from this prison?

His mind provided the memory of a rarely seen furious face, fangs glistening and eyes hard. His sire’s real face when she let her loving façade slip.

“You belong to me, Eijiro Kirishima. You will never see them again. I’ll kill them if you ever go back. I may kill them anyway just so you’ll stop thinking about them. You’re mine. Mine. Tell me you understand. Tell me you love me. Now! Do it now!”

The sensation of crying without tears was odd but not unfamiliar. He took in a shaky breath and could hear and feel the air rattling around in his sunken chest. He’d been dead for centuries and it was a habit he’d never been able to let go of. His sire had detested it which could’ve caused his involuntary need to keep breathing even though it wasn’t necessary to his survival any longer. He’d always had a slight rebellious streak. That’s how he got into this mess in the first place.

How was he still even here? How had he not withered away to nothing after all this time? He was barely a husk of what he once was, but yet…

But yet he still existed.

Kirishima was so tired. So very tired. Everything hurt and he could sense the sun beginning to peek over the horizon. He didn’t waste the energy to look up at the loose board in the ceiling that had given way after a bad storm years ago and let a thin sliver of sunlight through when the fiery ball was high in the sky. He attempted to move his fingers, but the charred digits stayed in place on the table, once again waiting for the sun to burn them. It was the same every day.

He wanted to go to sleep again. He needed to clear his mind. He needed to think of nothing, of no one…

Especially not her. ___

“You look smug for someone who’s about to get his head and heart removed,” a guard scoffed, yanking on the chain attached to Katsuki Bakugo’s bound hands.

The other vampire smirked in reply. “And you look like little more than a snack to someone who just finished eating his sire and is still standing.” He flashed a grotesque grin, fangs on display and saliva dripping, and was pleased to see a flicker of fear in the guard’s expression before he roughly pulled him forward to keep moving down the hall.

Bakugo let his grin fall and glared down at his restraints as he was shuffled along by a caravan of guards. His hands were locked into metal coverings and while he could use his power of explosive fire to melt them, he wasn’t sure his skin would stay intact with that much heat trapped against it. His bravado was mostly show at this point because he was relatively certain he was taking his final steps as he was forced closer to the council room.

He should’ve run when he had the chance.

But no, he’d stayed around to check for survivors of his sire’s line. He hadn’t meant to kill them all when he’d killed her. He’d only wanted to rid himself and the world of her, but…

But that wasn’t how it worked.

Truth be told, he wasn’t even sure how he was still around. It wasn’t just rumor that killing the head of a line would result in the death of every vampire they’d sired; it was proven fact. He wasn’t the first fledgling to rise up and murder his sire in a fit of rage; he was just the only one who’d survived it.

Survived it only to be killed now by a group of stuffy ancients who only cared about upkeeping laws that should’ve changed centuries before.

His thoughts were interrupted as he was stopped before a pair of large, delicately carved wooden doors. There was no telling how old the doors were, and he could feel how deep underground they’d come. It was suffocating to him, but the elders hadn’t been to the surface in lifetimes.

Some sign was given and then he was being moved forward again as the doors swung inward. The room was empty save for a single chair in the center and a large table with the heads of the vampire council seated behind it on the other side.

Bakugo was chained to the chair without the loss of any of his other restraints and the guards moved to stand behind him. He ground his teeth together. “Bunch of show for a guy you’re just gonna kill. You really so scared of me?”

One of the elders made a sound that landed somewhere between a laugh and a cough and Bakugo caught the edge of his lips upturn into the smallest sign of a smile before one of the others spoke.

“You will be executed for your crime, make no mistake, fledgling.”

Fear rushed through his system, but he tried to keep his expression bored. He’d practiced it for decades now. “Then stop boring me and get it over with, you old bat.”

There was definitely a laugh now and Bakugo looked to the first elder again. “You have to admit he’s fun, Wyrmen. Come on.” He ignored the murmurs of his fellow leaders and focused his attention on the younger vampire set before them. “You have a chance to save your life, if you’re interested. Something tells me you will be. You seem the type to have a zest for life. Wish these old coots felt the same.”

Bakugo saw the glares and flashes of anger from the other elders but none spoke up against the first. “I’m listening,” he said slowly.

“As you know, The Countess, your late sire, was a collector of individuals with peculiar abilities.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Bakugo snorted. “Wanted all the power she could get her grubby hands on.”

“Which is why she turned you, of course.”

He clenched his jaw and didn’t speak.

The elder’s smile grew a bit wider. “Yes, we know, young one. Those hand casings aren’t only for show.”

“Yeah, didn’t figure they were.”

“Your little stunt has been quite the talk around here. You could’ve burnt your sire to a crisp with that spectacular power of yours, but you chose to drain her like a human.”

Bakugo shrugged the best he could in his restraints but found he couldn’t quite meet the old vampire’s eyes anymore.

“Well, to the meat of it then. Quite a long time ago, the Countess came in contact with a human with hardening skin. She thought he would be a good bodyguard, so she changed him. Imagine everyone’s surprise when his hardened skin worked to keep him safe from the sun as well.”

Bakugo knew he was letting his shock show, but he couldn’t help it. There was always talk of some magic that would allow vampires to walk in the sun, but for all he could tell, it was mostly myth. Was he really to believe that his sire had someone who could walk in the sun?

And that he’d probably killed him when he killed her.

“What makes you think he’s even still alive? Every fledgling of hers I found was nothing but ash when I got to them.”

“He was one of her firsts and much older than any of the playthings she kept around here,” the elder answered, amusement clear in his voice. “Much more powerful than you, surely.”

The younger vampire bristled at that but held his tongue.

“Our proposition,” the elder continued, “is that you find the whereabouts of this vampire and bring him to us. Once you’ve done that, you’re free to live out the rest of your existence however you see fit, aligning with our laws, of course.”

“Of course,” Bakugo muttered. “And how the hell am I supposed to find some old guy that may or may not be a pile of ash now?”

“I suppose you’ll find a way if you value your life, which I believe you do.” The elder held his gaze steadily, smile never slipping even as his eyes grew cold. “And you have a time constraint so perhaps that will help your motivation along.”

The look in the ancient’s eyes told Bakugo that he didn’t have a chance in hell of finding the vampire they wanted, but there was also the smallest spark of hope there. He’d worked with less.

“Fine,” he huffed. “It’s a deal.”

___

“So, it’s a suicide mission then?” Denki Kaminari dropped to the couch with a frown. “I don’t know if I’m so much into that, man. I kinda like living and all.”

“Didn’t ask you to come,” Bakugo replied in irritation as he rifled through a stack of papers on his desk. “Why the hell are you here anyway?”

“Wasn’t sure if you were coming back or not so I decided to hang out in case someone needed to claim your stuff.” The younger vampire grinned. “Figured you’d want it to go to family.”

“You’re not my fucking family.”

“Am so.”

“No, you’re not.”

“We’re like cousins. Our sires share the same sire.”

“I hate you.”

Kaminari laughed. “You don’t though. I think you might even kinda like me sometimes.”

Bakugo ignored him when he found what he was looking for and slipped his passport into the bag on his desk.

“You really think you can find this guy alone?”

“Don’t have much of a choice,” he answered gruffly. He needed to start packing his clothes; his flight was leaving soon and if he missed it, he’d have to wait another day to fly out to his first lead and time wasn’t exactly on his side.

“Hey, uh, kidding aside, do you want help?”

Bakugo turned around to see Kaminari standing now and awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. “What?”

“Momo wants us to help you if you’ll take it.”

“Who’s us?”

The younger vampire shrugged. “Anybody you want to come along, I guess. She pleaded with the council before they brought you in, ya know. She tried to get them to allow her to claim you in her line, so you’d be under her protection and all.”

Bakugo returned his attention to his packing at that to hide his face. “Wouldn’t have done that.”

“She wouldn’t have made you; at least I don’t think she would. More like an on paper kinda thing.” Kaminari reached out hesitantly and put his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “She wants to protect you.”

The rest of the words were left unspoken. Bakugo was very familiar with what Momo Yaoyorozu wanted. She was everything his sire hadn’t been, kind and warm and caring. It would’ve been a wonder how she managed to survive so long in such a cruel world, but Bakugo knew she had the same penchant for gathering powerful beings around herself just like his sire had.

And she’d wanted to protect all the poor little fledglings he’d inadvertently killed when he drained his sire.

He wasn’t sure he could trust Momo.

He wasn’t sure he could trust anyone.

“I’ll be fine. Now, get out. I gotta get the rest of my shit together.”

Kaminari sighed loudly and flipped his hand up in a careless wave. “Fine. I tried. Don’t get yourself killed, I guess.”

“Denki.”

The other man turned around; surprise evident on his face. “Thanks for the offer.” Bakugo dropped his gaze as he muttered. “And if I’m not back in a year or so, you can have my stuff.”

“Love you too, man. Be careful.”

Buy me a cherry coke?