#there. here you have my full confession. but for the sake of the old traditions.

[widevibratobitch]

Top 5 worst Callas roles. Go on do your worse

1. ROSINA (t's just horrible. horrible.)

2. Mimì (thank god she only recorded it and never performed)

3. Gilda (just as with Mimì, i just don't believe her in that role, she's not an innocent young girl, she's a bitch - also hate how she kinda. artificially thins out her voice for that one. talk about things that ultimately ruined it...)

4. Konstanze (yes, I know there is no recording of her in this role, only the one aria which is horrible and I hate it, she shouldn't have been allowed to even look at Mozart, next)

5. ANYTHING she sung in the 1960s (and, oh god, the 1970s...).

go on, boo me, you know I'm right.

[iphigeniainaulis]

Ten Thousand Leaves

Pairing: Shingen x Inoue Eri (OC)

Warnings: this is generally SFW with some not so spicy moments. Also for the sake of the plot let's imagine that Shingen’s first trip to the future was really quick

Here is a little something I prepared for lovely @tacogawa

Honestly, I think I’ve become too invested into this couple. Eri is such a brilliant character to write, and Shingen is…Shingen. Hope you’ll like it even though it’s not perfect!

And many thanks to @ikemenlibrary and @sunnyikemen for all your time and efforts put into bringing together the whole bunch of extremely talented and sweet people 💛

Learning more about your born in the XVI century boyfriend is not a great deal when you live in his world. Letting him know more about your relatively ordinary life in the XXI century is way harder. Of course, he can rely on Sasukepedia, but even reliable sources may sometimes face the Blue Screen of Doom. 

Standing against inequality in every form and measure, Eri perfectly realized the large disparity in access to knowledge that existed in her relationship with Shingen Takeda. That's why when her boyfriend mentioned that he “wanted to visit the future one more time just to be able to know her better” during another day walk to the town, the young woman took it seriously. 

She didn't want to consider for a moment the possibility of putting Shingen in danger of getting stuck into the time whole, so instead she decided to bring a part of her world into his own. 

Eri spent the whole day in the kitchen, boiling, roasting and even baking dozens of dishes, from sweet sakura wagashi to spicy curry bread, modern dorayaki and vegetable cream soup that was useful for the warlord’s health. 

It was necessary to keep her present a secret, but since when did she ever succeed in hiding something from the Tiger of Kai?

Eri was thinking a lot about what and how exactly she wanted to tell Shingen about her world. In terms of historical accuracy it was better to ask Sasuke for help since he was the true king of theory and practice. But no, she didn't want it to be another boring retelling of cold hard facts. Her strong point was her imagination, expressiveness and ability to show a wide spectrum of emotions. So, why not tell her story through the language of memories, food, scents and feelings?

For Eri  her friends were the biggest source of emotions in all their vivid diversity, but she could no longer reach for them. There was also that old traditional minshuku where she worked, loved and met so many new faces, watched, enjoyed and cried over the movies of their good and bad days. Maybe she should show Shingen a glimpse of her daily life there? 

Not to say, Eri really wanted to spoil Shingen with her favorite coffee with a great milk foam. The problem was that in Sengoku’s Japan people weren’t that much invested in the coffee culture, and she didn't have enough ingredients to use.  

Shingen was a brilliant man. A perceptive one. He didn't need words to know that something was wrong with his lover. She began to twitch her nose impassionately more often, the tone of her voice became a little bit more shaky — the wrong note played in the middle of a perfect sequence. And her eyes, of course her eyes. Two deep dark pools evoked the memories of a willow tree covered with the storm clouds. 

Having flirtatious nature but not mind, Shingen Takeda knew quite well when it was necessary to build temples of sweet flattery and when it was better to approach people with strict honesty. Therefore, he asked Eri just one simple question.

“My angel, tell me what’s happened?”

There was no point in keeping secrets anymore. After her confession Shingen didn't say anything, only took Eri in his loving “bearish” embrace, and she forgot about their conversation for a while. Until one day she saw a large box full of dark coffee beans in front of the bedroom. 

Shingen never mentioned how he managed to find them. Eri never asked.  

When everything was done, Eri put a blindfold on Shingen’s eyes and led him to their room that was now turned into an improvised restaurant.

He  removed the cloth and saw Eri standing with an ink brush and a piece of paper in her hand.

“What would you like to order?”

“As long as I’m blessed with your company, my goddess, I don't really care.”

Sitting at the table and sharing the meals, she tried to describe her working days, remembering all those little details that made them so ordinarily special. How she liked to talk with her clients, how funny it was to dance while baking chocolate cookies and how at first she missed it here. Shingen in return paid countless compliments to the coffee drink she’d made and told her some stories about his childhood. 

But as the amount of food on the plates was reducing dartingly, Eri’s gaze turned more gloomy. No wonder. That big baby ate all the desserts, completely ignoring the tray with rice, vegetables and soup. 

Come on, man, that's not how it works!

Crumpling the napkin, Eri leaned back with her eyes bored into Shingen’s handsome face. 

“You know what I haven't told you yet?” she asked thoughtfully.

“I’m all ears.”

“About games. There were days when the restaurant was crowded with parents and their children, so I was usually asked to entertain them.”

“And what game do you want to play with me?” Eri recalled the names of all the kamies she'd read about and begged them to give her enough strength to ignore the damn smile that possessed enough power to make the coldest winter day warmer. 

“Truth or Dare. My version. Basically there is one main rule: the loser has to grant the winner's wish.”

“Sounds pretty good.” Dew-drops of laughter were splashing in his voice. ”And what will happen if one of the players refuses to obey the rules?”

“Oh, so you’re going to give up even before we start?”

“How cruel.” Even if the warlord did sound offended, the look of pure joy on his face betrayed him. “My love may have the look of an angel, but her tongue is sharper than a devil’s spear.”

“I thought you liked my tongue.” Eri couldn't help sticking out her tongue just a little bit.  

“Surely. Especially when its on my c—”

“Shin!”

“...candies. Why, did you think about something else?” 

After having found three wooden dice and three shallow cups, the couple sat at both sides of the table as Eri kept on explaining the rules.

“I'll write one word on each dice. Then we’ll put them under the cups and mix. The one who gets the “Truth” dice will have to answer honestly any question asked by the other player. And if you’re lucky to have “Dare”, then you’ll have to do anything your rival wants you to. There are three rounds, three different choices. Sometimes I may write two dares and one truth or vice versa. You'll never know.”

Three upside-down cups were exposed in front of them. 

“Ladies first, my dear.”

“Not this time, my dear.”

Eri’d had enough time to practice and almost perfect the art of how to know exactly where each dice was hidden and how to make her opponent pick the right choice. Whatever the ”right choice” meant.  There were plenty of options from moving the cup just slightly closer to the player to picking up the right angle for the other two. 

Rough fingers with surprisingly delicate, dove pink nail plates were teasing Eri with their elegant dance over the table and accidentally touching her hands. Suddenly they reached the “Truth”cup, and Eri held her breath, hoping he wouldn't pick it up. After all, she suggested playing the game for a completely different reason.

The eyes of steel on fire spotted the flush on her cheeks, and for a moment they reflected so many shades of emotions, from ultimate happiness to complete understanding. The woman could swear that Shingen knew what kind of tricks she’d used and what was hidden beneath the egg-shell china as if he looked at the glass.  

He dropped his hand abruptly and pointed at another cup with the needed “Dare” dice under it. 

“Dare.” A tiger’s lazy hum. “So, what do you want me to do, princess?”

“I want you to try this.” She acted with no hesitation and gave him a plate with soup.

Shingen smelled the plate with poorly hidden curiosity. Then took a spoon and said, “My precious lover cooked this for me. I cannot be more happy than..ough—” 

“What do you expect, pumpkin juice?”

The quote left her lips spontaneously, and Eri didn't have time to think of how much her voice resembled Madam Pomfrey. Truly, it wasn't that important.  She put back the tapestry of jade black hair and broke into laughter, watching one of the best moments in her life. A crease on her lover’s forehead — crescent moon shadows on the silver top of Fuji. Showing when surprised, disappearing when composed — a split second. Eri knew quite well how rarely Shingen allowed her to see him so vulnerable; but thus did she feel so proud of herself — for being able to break through that cool, calm and collected facade.

Shingen made no attempt to stop her. Right now he was the epitome of silence and reminiscent of a painter who’d been searching desperately for an ideal view for his picture and occasionally found it behind his own window. He was diving himself in the endless warmth of her laughter and thought that if the sun was her, then he, Shingen Takeda, wanted to become Icarus.  

Finally, Eri managed to regain her temper, but a wide happy smile still rested on her happy face. She was studying the man in front of her and could see nothing more than the true embodiment of composure: relaxed posture, his usual hot smirk, massive hands dropped on his crossed knees. There was nothing in Shingen’s Herculean figure that could indicate the hurricane raging in his heart. Except the hawkish gaze that was the only thing preventing Eri from accepting his playfulness as true.  

“What does it mean? Another interesting expression from your time?”

“Well..”  

She was about to open her mouth to answer but cut herself immediately, imagining how awkward it would be to tell the XVI century’s daimyo about wizards flying on the brooms, Horcruxes, moving stairs and ginger beer sold at Diagon Alley. Shingen heard her muttering something like “forget it”, and then Eri looked down, so he could no longer see her expression. The flirtatious atmosphere was gone with the last bubble of it burst in the air, and as it often happened after another peal of emotions, Eri felt empty, confused and guilty of the moment ruined.   

Although, there is this full-package option to be brought back 500 years in the past, one doesn't simply rewind just a few seconds, right?

But she missed the fact that her lover was none other than the famous Tiger of Kai, the man who fought with the same lust he lived and conducted talks as flawlessly as he waltzed with Death on the battlefield.   

Soon they were exchanging jokes and enthusiastically discussing Eri’s life, dreams and goals as if nothing had happened. Talking about her dreams with Shingen was as easy as breathing. He listened carefully, never interrupting, and asked questions directly and only when needed. 

There were times when Eri wanted to open an animal shelter and saved money despite getting paid peanuts. As they say, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. 

“I’m not talking about juridical nuances. Well, they are important, and pet owners must be obliged by law to bear responsibility for those they’ve tamed. But there is also massive public ignorance.”

“Explain.”

“People don't know how to act when they see homeless or sick animals. They are scared to do much harm by their actions, they are confused about how to feed animals and where to find a shelter. So, some people just—  ”

“...prefer to do nothing,” they said simultaneously and grinned knowingly at each other. 

“What you’re saying, princess, can be applied to many situations. Regardless of who’s involved — animals, humans or gods — the questions are always the same. Are we ready to take responsibility for our actions? And if the future offers us a bed of thorns, will we find enough courage to move forward or surrender to fears and despair?”

Eri had the feeling that what Shingen’d told her was way more personal than he wanted it to be and that his true intention was not to admonish but to warn her. At the end of the day, who better than the legendary Tiger of Kai could approve that the nobility of intentions shouldn’t prevail over the nobility of actions?

“I have a plan.” She squeezed her hands so tightly that the knuckles went frost white. But when she dared to raise her eyes and meet Shingen’s direct gaze, there was no sign of insecurity. Only that loud like silence, adamantine confidence in herself. “It's necessary to create and spread information cards to point out all places where the future shelters will be located. And also add the contact details of volun…I mean, people who will be glad to help us and look for animals until they are safe. In my world it is possible to do so using computers or tablets, but here we’ll have to use paper only.”

“In other words, this way it will become possible to get rid of the main preventing factor — the lack of knowledge”, Takeda nodded. He remained silent for a moment, considering Eri’s words, and when he finally spoke, his voice was overwhelmed with affection. 

“My goddess is so beautiful, body and soul. Who am I but a poor servant ready to grant every wish of her?”

Eri raised her eyebrow questioningly, and he added with a boyish grin,

“I'll think about how I can help you create these maps. Can't promise it’ll be quick, but— ”

All other words melted in the black sea of curls, in jasmine and orchid, in a raining fire of touches, in lips caressing cheeks and neck until finding each other and bursting into deep, passionate kisses. A moan of pleasure flitted from Eri’s chest when Shingen’s wet demanding tongue drew the line of her lips and pushed inside with a loud smack, tasting the sweetness of their love.           

When the lovers finally parted from each other, the sun was  almost below the horizon. Each and every thatched roof in Kai province was painted with rays of reddish gold. The sky still held the memories of day heat, but the refreshing coolness of the night promised to be soon on its way. The streets were half-empty with traders closing their shops and local people rushing to their families. Lights from hundreds of windows kindled the empty streets with the tangerine gold color of ten thousand maple leafs, and the air was quickly loaded with the scents of boiling meat, rice and wood fire. Somewhere near the market square an old man with a lost smile was playing the shamisen. The echo of his music was written in the clouds with ethereal inks.

For our past where we held out our hands.

For our present where we reach each other.

For our future where we’ll go together hand in hand.        

Eri was wrapped in her tiger’s tight embrace, and she didn't complain. Let some people fear his sharp claws — Eri was the only one who felt the safest when being so close to him.  

“I think we’ve got distracted in the middle of our game,” he hummed. 

Eri wanted to reach Shingen’s lips to wipe that arrogant smirk off, but the man was faster, emerging on the opposite side of the table in no time.  

“My turn to lead, princess.”

She signed and began to watch how those sun-kissed hands with stretched veins were moving the cups. Of course, with Shingen it was necessary to be 200% concentrated, but Eri couldn't resist the temptation to admire the elegant contour of his wrists, the red marks that she’d left in a minute of passione and that now embellished his elbows.   

Eventually, he stopped, and Eri pointed at the cup that, as she noticed, was moving slower than the other one — the sign that probably something could be hidden under it.  

“Dare.”

“Show me another one!”

“Accept your faith with pride, Eri,” Shingen noticed calmly. Never ever did she want to pull his ears so badly.

“Shingen!”

Raising his hands in defeat, the man turned over the other cup, and Eri jumped on her feet, screaming, 

“That's not fair! You haven't put a second dice.”

“I don't remember you mentioning using several dice in each round. So, I decided to improvise.”

“Liar!”

“That doesn't change the fact that you owe me.”

“Geez, sometimes you do act like a jerk.”

“And you love it, don't you? ”

"No, I would rather kill you for that."

"Oh, but can you really?"

"I won't hesitate, bi…Ah, never mind!"

Brushing away the plates, Eri leaned over the table and quickly kissed the tip of his nose, making sure another blush pinched his cheeks.  

“For daring to trick me,” she replied, shaking her shoulders as if not mentioning an unspoken question in Shingen’s eyes.

But this time the response followed almost immediately. His breath was tickling the softness of her earlobes when Eri heard another bewitching whisper.

“The way you described dance in your world seems pretty fun. Why don't you teach me some basics?”

Though she really enjoyed it, dancing was not Eri’s virtue. On any other day, she would politely decline Shingen’s offer. But now love, intimacy of night and bitter-sweet taste of coffee in her blood made her bold, and she pulled the man closer to painted shoji where the melancholic play of strings could be heard. 

The layers of silk tied tightly on her body made it almost impossible to move effortlessly. Every step — childish, every turn — clumsy. So different from the man’s elegant posture and rhythmic movements, so graceful, surprisingly graceful considering his rather impressive figure and non-poetic lifestyle. Shingen indeed was a man of many talents. God, she could just (but could she?) play some random Youtube tutorials on building ships, singing Mozart’s operas or playing otome games, and he would learn everything in a matter of seconds. No doubts.

At some point, when Eri got tired of imitating the jig when dancing the waltz, she let herself be guided by Shingen’s strong arms. All the stress and exhaustion from the previous days were threatening to burst out of her, but she tried to fight a sleeping curse with desperation worthy of samurai’s praise. 

“A-and also I promised you an unforgettable night. Now let me show you—”

Giving a throat chuckle, Shingen gracefully made another step to the music and gently kissed her forehead.  

“You make every night special, my love. But right now holding you in my arms is enough.”

“D-don't be so confident! You know how good I am at seduction." Her hands slowly caressed the line of his waist and then dropped lower to squeeze the muscular curves. 

The next moment the world began to tremble as if somebody pushed the swings with all their might. Eri found herself lying on the soft futon with Shingen being on top. 

“That's what happens when you lose control, Eri.” For once again the gentleness in his voice faded away, giving place to the stern resolve and deep, hidden under myriads of ice sheets passion.  

“I’m your lover, but most importantly I’m a man. And I’m not a stranger to certain thoughts, especially when you act like this, warm, sensitive and longing for my touch.”  

More than anything in the world Eri wanted to satisfy the hunger torturing her body and mind. Thick dark lashes lowered — black silk slipped on the floor. Her lips were burning in anticipation of kisses. 

But the only thing she got was a single light touch on the forehead and then the woman was wrapped in a cotton blanket that covered her from head to toes. 

“You’ll get what you want, princess. But only in the morning, when we’re both ready for this. I prefer to give pleasure rather than be the one who gets it.” 

The last part of the sentence was met with the sounds of her calm breathing. 

The night air in August was rich. The scent of rocky mountains. A pale trace of smoke was coming up from the engawa, where the man in white yukata was sitting. He couldn't help but gaze every minute at the woman in his bed only to find out another bunch of perfect little things about her much to his own amusement. 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wooden dice. At that very moment Eri moved in her sleep and mumbled, “Shin..do you..love me?”

He looked at the word ‘Truth’ written on the dice and softly squeezed it in his hand.

“Yes.” 

More than you can imagine.

What did the greatest of the greats say?

“I will tread the sharpness of the 

double-edged sword 

And die with a good heart,  

If it be for your sake.”*

*MYS XI: 2498 from the Manyoshu ('Collection of Ten Thousand Leaves'), the oldest anthology of poetry in classical Japanese.

[ddarker-dreams]

Eternal Binding. Yan Zhongli x Reader

Warnings: Unhealthy yandere themes and non major character death, spoilers for Zhongli’s identity I think ??  Word count: 1.2k.

Liyue, as it is now, feels different than how you remember it growing up. 

It started with little things. Popular trends rose and fell at breakneck speed, the second you finally felt caught up, the people of Liyue had moved onto the next eye-catching phenomenon. 

Imperceivable grievances upon first glance, that once pointed out, you would fixate on like a man possessed. He had warned of this fate that awaited you, yet you chose to carry out your days in ignorance. That maybe you’d somehow be immune to the pain brought by time moving on with or without you. 

A dear friend from childhood, Nian Zhen, had made an offhanded comment about how her body had seen better days. The rest of your companions murmured in solemn agreement and added on their complaints. They bemoaned the wrinkles that formed underneath their eyes and how their bodies had begun to ache after a day’s full of work. All the while, you sat there and silently drank your tea. You had belonged to the same age group as them, yet experienced none of the plights they did. 

At that time, Nian Zhen had turned to you and posed a question that pierced your being with frigid dread.

“[First], you look as young as ever. What’s your secret?” She had teased, to which you skillfully dodged the question. The conversation went from there, but you no longer followed it. They’re right, you thought. No grey hairs, aching bones, or wrinkles. It’s impossible to hide any longer.

What your Archon warned you about decades ago had finally reared its ugly head. 

You still remember her funeral in great detail, the proceedings lasted days and were fulfilled to Liyue’s custom. She had died of old age in bed, surrounded by her children and grandchildren. Her eldest son, who had commemorated the ceremony, opened with a line you often think back to.

“My mother lived a long, fulfilling life.”

That she did. When the two of you were children, you used to sneak out at night to play near the harbor. As teenagers, she’d lend at your parent’s farm if they felt ill, the burden shared between you both. Then came being a young adult and the news of Nian Zhen’s betrothal to a local fisherman, which you enthused over. After that, it was nothing but a blur. Her first child, second, third, fourth. They grew up and created families of their own.

All this, while you hadn’t aged a day. 

Rex Lapis stands by your side near the overarching mountains, watching the completion of the proceedings in silence. The skies are unusually overcast, muted colors of grey and occasional dark blues mixing above. Now begins the mourning period, in accordance with Liyue tradition. Nian Zhen’s offspring, that now look to be the same age as you in terms of physical appearance, are nowhere to be seen. 

He snaps you from your thoughts by placing a hand on your shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” Rex Lapis -- or Zhongli, as he prefers you call him in private -- inquires. His touch is unwelcome as he is, yet you don’t have the energy to protest. 

“About as well as you could expect,” comes your response, bitter and scathing. “Why are you still here, anyway?” 

Zhongli straightens his posture, fiddling with the cuffs of his outfit. “I feel it is my duty as your husband to comfort you.”

This earns a sardonic laugh, the smile on your face ingenuine to match. Once, you would’ve considered yelling curses at him until he left you alone, but now you’re faced with a crueler reality. A reality that Zhongli is the only person who can fully understand what it’s like to share this curse disguised misleadingly as a blessing. 

Immortality.

“I’ll be honest. I’m not feeling too comforted right now, or whatever it is you claim to be doing.” You refute, chest feeling paradoxically heavy and light with nothingness. The first one is always the most difficult, is what he told you back then, in reference to watching your mortal friends wither away due to age. Now comes the question of who’s next. Will it be your former neighbor, the blacksmith? Perhaps your old tutor who recently celebrated a century of life? There’s no way to know for certain. What you do know is that if it’s going to cut this deep, maybe you should’ve rejected his offer all those years ago.

Grass rustles to the left of you, dry leaves crunching and twigs snapping, as Zhongli sits by your side. 

“Tell me how to do it properly, then. I’ll learn if it’s for your sake.” Zhongli implores, bewitching amber eyes drawing you into their thrall. The way he looks at you, waiting patiently on your every word as if you held the secrets of the universe, no longer comes as a surprise. Though you might be used to this display, it still manages to unnerve you. The awe-inspiring fact that you’re conversing with a god, the god that you grew up worshipping in deep reverence, still causes your tongue to momentarily forget its function. 

You clear your throat and play with a strand of your hair. “Well, I suppose… there is one question I’ve long wanted to ask of you.” 

He blinks, the confession unexpected, but manages to revert his visage to its typical look of composure. Zhongli nods his head as if it wordlessly urge you to continue. Sucking in a deep breath, you do just that.

“Why… why did you choose me? With your contract, I mean. Surely, there are more special members of Liyue that you could’ve saved, people that would fit the role of an adepti.” 

Zhongli ponders over your question. The silence is torture, not to mention unusual, since you’ve gotten used to him speaking at great length over any subject. Pottery, the history of paper, traditions native to northern Liyue regions; anything and everything he could speak about for hours if you allowed. Now, he’s unable to offer even a single word. You shift uncomfortably in your seat and frown.

After some time passes, his lips part.

“It doesn’t come from any logical place,” Zhongli admits, much to your bewilderment, your head snapping to look at his perplexed face. “I believe it’s referred to as intuition. Yes, that sounds correct. I felt that you would understand me.” 

He holds your gaze, unblinking. “So, I decided to have you by my side for all of eternity.” 

That’s right. The contract you formed on that fateful day said as much. How it so seamlessly flows from his lips is a mystery to you, the declaration sending a fresh wave of shivers and dread down your spine. This is your fate -- you remind yourself -- and the Geo Archon will never allow a person to violate the terms of a contract.

Not even if it’s you.

While Liyue and its surrounding regions are fluid and ever-changing as a rushing stream, Zhongli remains the same as you’ve always known him to be. God of Contracts, Commerce, War, and finally,

Your eternal damnation. 

[everythingsinred]

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 27)

The closer we get to the end, the more nervous I am, and maybe you are too, because things are going to go horribly awry and only suffering is to come. Fate is adamant that a specific twelve year old must die, and we really have no choice but to watch it all unfold.

In this part, we will discuss the chapters building up to the New Year's Concert, where Reo will attempt to assassinate the ESP.

Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Six

Ruka finds Natsume in the snow. He asks where he’s been, and Natsume responds that he went to see Mikan. Natsume imagines that Ruka will be jealous, because he feels guilty. He’d been putting his own wants first this whole night, and he hadn’t even considered Ruka.

Expectation vs. Reality. Ruka, best boy.

But Ruka is not jealous, or he’s very good at hiding it. He beams at Natsume, offering only congratulations and support. He’s happy for them, that both of their wishes came true. In fact, Ruka was also wishing for it, that Mikan and Natsume could find each other.

Natsume apologizes, because Ruka’s cheerful support only makes him feel more guilty, but he doesn’t tell him for what. He will not recount the details of the night, particularly of the many kisses shared between him and Mikan.

There’s a happy moment between Natsume and Ruka until, of course, Natsume starts coughing violently. He coughs up blood again, and when Ruka asks him if he’s okay, he’s ready to downplay it, already hiding his hand so that his best friend won’t worry. But Ruka grabs his hand and looks at the blood on the glove, and there’s a somber moment between them. Natsume tries to talk, but Ruka knows he’s just going to try and downplay it again, so he interrupts.

The best friendship in all of fiction. I stand by this forever. You can't change my mind.

Ruka has watched Natsume suffer the whole time they’ve been at the academy, even before then. He might not have had all the details, but he’s known that Natsume’s life was agony. He was helpless, and even became a burden (in his own view, not Natsume’s). He pleads with Natsume not to hide from him anymore. They’re meant to be best friends, and all Ruka has ever wanted was to be Natsume’s support system, but Natsume shut him out in the guise of protecting him. He keeps all his pain locked away and deals with it on his own.

Watching someone you love suffer and not being able to do anything about it is a tremendous pain, Ruka says. Natsume must sympathize. He will say something similar later on about Mikan’s situation.

Ruka loves Natsume. Natsume might have thought that he dragged his only friend into a bottomless pit of despair but Ruka asserts he’s never once regretted following him to the academy, not even for a second.

Ruka is confessing now. Natsume must know now that his existence is important to at least two people who love him unconditionally, but he doesn’t internalize it. Maybe he can’t. He’s too stuck in the role of martyr that straying from it would go against the very fabric of his own identity. He exists and has always existed to protect others. Protecting himself or even considering himself doesn’t align with that identity. No matter how much Mikan and Ruka plead with him to keep himself safe, he can’t abide. They’re more important than he is. He fails to see how much heartbreak and sorrow he will leave in his wake of self-destruction.

Natsume can’t internalize it. He can’t take it in and change course. It’s too late for that, in his mind. But he can tell Ruka the truth, because supporting Natsume is all Ruka wants.

He confesses too. He’s afraid. He doesn’t like thinking about the future, not even a year from now, because he’s scared he’ll be dead by then.

He says his secret fear out loud, that he won’t be able to protect her, and it’s still so heart-breaking that he still only sees his own value in how much he can protect people. He will shorten his own life to get her out of the darkness she’s ended up in. He doesn’t see worth in his existence just for the sake of living, of breathing, of smiling and laughing and crying and existing. Instead, his value is conditional. He is only so good as he is able to protect others and when he can’t anymore, then he is no longer valuable. It’s a glaring sign of a ridiculously low self-esteem.

He wants to choose life! He wants to live! Oh, this makes it worse...

But something has changed. He doesn’t want to die. He wants to live and be with her forever. He can’t be with her if he’s dead. It’s a selfish thought, and as I’ve been saying, that’s a wonderful thing. If only that selfish impulse were stronger, than maybe things wouldn’t be so doomed in the coming week. But Natsume’s ingrained martyr complex is stronger than anything, and his new flicker of selfishness doesn’t stand a chance.

Ruka promises he’ll do anything to support Natsume and Mikan’s future together. And so Natsume asks Ruka to protect Mikan if he’s no longer able to.

I personally don’t think he’s handing Mikan over here. This whole conversation’s context is specifically about protecting Mikan, and how Natsume wants only to keep her safe, even at the expense of his own life (though he’s actually more cavalier with that than he lets on, so it’s not much of an “even”, is it?). If Natsume is dead, he wants somebody he trusts to watch over her and prioritize her as he has. Who better than Ruka, who loves Mikan too and will want to keep her safe as well?

Or. You could just. Not die. Just a thought.

Natsume has never treated Mikan as an object to be won. He’s in fact made several comments about not “competing” at all. If he was able to give Mikan to Ruka, those two would be together now already and Natsume wouldn’t be the one holding Mikan’s alice stone. He is not any more capable of giving her away then he’s been before, and he’s less motivated to now than he’s ever been. Mikan is his, after all. Why would he “give her away” so soon after promising to be together forever?

He’s only concerned with Mikan’s safety and freedom here. If he dies in the pursuit of that, which he will, then someone else needs to make sure she’s safe and free. What she does with that safety and freedom is not in his or Ruka’s or anyone’s hands. I imagine Natsume, who got jealous of Mikan thinking of all her important people when making her alice stone would also get jealous at the thought of Mikan falling in love with somebody after his death. It might occur in the distant future, but it probably wouldn’t be any fun to imagine.

You may disagree with me, but I just can’t see it that way. I just don’t see it.

Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Seven

It’s New Year’s. Mikan’s birthday. There’s a celebration happening in the dorms, just like last year, but Natsume isn’t dressed in traditional garb to welcome the new year and feast like all the other students.

Instead, he’s waiting for Narumi in a hallway.

He wants all the information he can get, so he can get Mikan out of her cage sooner. Narumi isn’t talking, always willing to act dumb to get out of things. But Natsume knows better. He saw Narumi in the flashbacks, and knows how much Narumi loved Yuka. He would’ve done anything for her, even if it resulted in his own death. Narumi should understand how Natsume feels, then. He knows Mikan is suffering and in danger, but he can’t do anything about it. He says something to the effect that he shouldn’t even be living at this point, again reiterating that his life only has value if he’s able to protect people, particularly Mikan. If he’s unable to do that, then he might as well die. There’s really no difference, he says.

Jeez, kid, relax.

Narumi tries to point out that Natsume is dying, as if perhaps the kid is unaware of this, but Natsume grabs him and declares that he will not end up like him. Natsume seems to understand Narumi (probably more than I can! Haha) and that his life has been empty and soulless for a long time. Narumi is full of regret and has been for years, but Natsume won’t be like that. He won’t live with regret. He’ll do anything he can to save Mikan, and he’ll die without a single regret. He also claims he won’t give up on the idea of sharing a future with Mikan, and that makes the inevitable doom of their romance all the more tragic. Natsume isn’t planning on dying. He’s not imagining that he doesn’t even have a full two days left to live. He’s thinking he’ll push himself to the end of his rope, save Mikan, and then live happily ever after. It’s naive and childish and ridiculous that he really believes he can have his cake and eat it too, but he does with his whole heart.

"I want to live," is enough for me. I stopped reading after that. LET THIS KID LIVE.

Natsume tells Narumi to stop underestimating him for his age. But Narumi agrees: he doesn’t want Natsume or any of the other kids to end up like him and his generation did. He wants things to be better, for the new generation to have a happy and hopeful future to look forward to instead of surrendering to a life of misery and regret.

Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Nine

Natsume and Ruka are something like partners-in-crime now. They both know that taking out the ESP is the only way to free Mikan. They are spying on Reo, who has come under the guise of performing for the New Year’s concert, who spills that Z wants to assassinate the ESP.

Tsubasa and Tono quickly join the conversation, although they’re somewhat unwanted.

Reo keeps talking, and now all four of them are privy to his plan. Tono scolds Natsume for trying to get involved when it’s obvious Z is already on the case. Let them do it, he says. Keep yourself safe instead of putting everything on your own shoulders. Naturally, this is Natsume we’re talking about, so no amount of logic will get into his head, but it was worth a try, Tono.

Natsume's little face here is my favorite. His little angry expressions are always the highlight of any page.

Hearing this warning, Natsume can see the sense in it. He doesn’t want to leave his fiancee alone and heart-broken by his loss (more proof that he doesn’t really believe he’ll die) tomorrow, but to his horror, Koko was reading his thoughts aloud.

Natsume is embarrassed to be put on the spot, and he didn’t want to hurt Ruka’s feelings, so he takes out his anger on Koko. Then he punishes Tsubasa for teasing him about how fast he’s going with Mikan when Tsubasa is actually just slow with Misaki. Then it’s revealed that Tsubasa did finally confess to Misaki and got the answer he wanted, which only pisses Natsume off more, inexplicably. He’d be angry either way, just because it’s Tsubasa. He probably just wants to take the focus off himself and the fact that he’s already proposed to Mikan.

Tsubasa was in fact inspired by Natsume’s commitment to protecting Mikan. He confessed because his kouhai was so determined. But he also expresses concern for Natsume’s recklessness. Protecting people is a worthwhile pursuit, but so is valuing your own life. Other people depend on him and love him, and losing would hurt. He doesn’t have to do everything on his own. Working as a team can ensure his safety and keep him living longer. They’re all on the same page, after all, so why not join forces and get it done more efficiently without Natsume being the martyr again?

Yeah, Natsume, go to therapy. Like, yesterday.

But as the group splits up, Ruka holds Natsume still. He wants to talk about what happened on Christmas, but Natsume doesn’t. He’d rather keep that to himself, not at all willing to hurt Ruka’s feelings after he’s been nothing but supportive.

But he can’t lie, and Ruka has expressed interest in hearing all the truthbombs Natsume can dish out, so he comes clean. They exchanged alice stones. It looks like it pains Natsume to admit it. He’s consumed by guilt for the role he’s played in hurting Ruka. But Ruka is still just happy for him. He again offers congratulations, and all is well until Koko announces that Natsume and Mikan kissed a lot too. Apparently, Natsume has been thinking about the kisses so often and shamelessly to the point that Koko is concerned.

Ruka gets upset, but not out of jealousy. He hits Natsume rather pathetically, adamantly demanding that he be honest and tell him everything instead of keeping secrets all the time. Ruka doesn’t care that Natsume has been “selfish” and has kissed Mikan and gotten engaged with her and met with her. He is a fan! He’s Team NatsuMikan now too! He just wants Natsume to stop lying to him, not even to spare his feelings. If Natsume can’t be honest, then Ruka can’t do his job of supporting him. Friendship is a two-way street and can’t work if the friends can’t rely on each other for help and support. Going through good and tough times together is the key to any lasting relationship, and for that to work Natsume needs to talk to him instead of holding back.

Ruka is so cute here. Absolutely adorable. I shall adopt.

Natsume apologizes and the chapter ends on a light note, with the four of them teasing each other and laughing.

But tomorrow will be a different story. Many horrible things will happen tomorrow night, and the bright future Natsume has finally allowed himself to consider will burn up and die.

Conclusion

In the Rapunzel story, the prince was blinded and forced to walk around the forest unable to look for his lost love. I imagine that's why the chapter title image for Chapter 147 has his face covered in bandages. The story of Rapunzel is a tragic one, but it ends in a happily-ever-after. The consolation we have is that the story of NatsuMikan is more like the story of Rapunzel than of Romeo and Juliet, though it certainly doesn't feel like it for the next thirty-something chapters.

I didn't reread this at all before posting because I'm really tired. Thus, I claim no ownership over any mistakes. They can't be helped.

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[akampana]

Oh, oh, how about a Gil vampire lord and arty famous vampire hunter in a eternal rivalry for no.1, kinda Hellsing and dracula rivalry but with a twist

“I couldn’t live with myself, if I didn’t tell you.” Gilgamesh x Arturia Vampire x Hunter. Enjoy!

_______

Three bullets.

Two knives.

One vampire.

Arturia Pendragon clicked the cylinders back into place and brought her weapons up to her chin, the warmth of her breath misting the polished barrel. She was the only thing in this accursed mansion that had any sense of heat, as everything inside was either unlit, inanimate, or dead.

The small hunter cursed the winter. There wasn’t a poorer season for killing vampires than one that was as dark and cold as the night creatures’ hearts. However, she could wait no longer. For generations, her family had pursued the blood-sucking fiends, hoping to one day cease the plague that had haunted their lands. At last, it could come to an end. There would be no need for her little brother to learn to handle a gun as well.

All she had to do was put Gilgamesh to rest.

A sudden movement from the right had her fingers on the triggers, but it was an effort wasted. There was nothing but the creak of wood and a curtain dancing in the cold breeze. However, she was not too quick to drop her guard. The vampire she hunted tonight was older than time and just as wise. Tricks like this were not beyond him. It made his hunts more interesting, she bet.

"There you are, my love."

...

Too slow!

The Pendragon ducked to the floor just in time to hear his palm smash through the stone brick behind her. Aiming her revolvers, she sprang up like a gymnast, twisting midair to face the hellspawn.

Silver shot out of her gun, but she already knew it would miss. Vampires were quite the agile creatures, having shed their human limits in exchange for their souls. Even if Gilgamesh looked mortal like herself, the way he sidestepped fire at such a short distance clearly suggested otherwise.

The soles of her boots screeched against the floor as she secured her landing by chucking the revolver at her opponent. Empty guns were useless in fights that required all her attention, but thankfully, this one had extra utility against creatures of the night.

When a high pitched squeak more suited to a frightened pig passed her old rival's lips, she knew she'd made a successful play.

"A silver-barrelled gun? Ha! And here I believed you had exhausted all your options," the older one smirked, the skin of his hands hissing from the contact. "That must have cost your family the entire treasury, my dearest Arturia. Who did this once belong to, hm? Was it your father's? Grandfather's? Great-grandfather's?"

Arturia grimaced as she snatched one of her knives from her heel.

"Killing your kind brings quite the fortune,” she answered, as per their usual simultaneous verbal bouts. “I can buy a hundred more with the price on your head, Gilgamesh."

She spun the blade round her fingers to provoke him, stopping in a backhand grip.

"More of your distractions, girl?" he sneered, just a hint of irritation breaking through his haughty mask. "It will take more than parlor tricks to fell the likes of me!"

Arturia lunged like a fencer, weaving through his usual jabs till she nicked his skin, lamenting how terribly shallow the cut was. As her breaths began to labor, her eyes flickered to the hallway, debating whether or not she could make a break for it. There was no outmatching a vampire in a direct dance to death, but she’d already made that play. Gilgamesh was not going to let her go a second time-

A sharp hiss was the woman’s only warning before his hands seized her throat.

No!

Desperately, she fired the gun at his knee, but all it did was have him bruise her skull on the floor instead of the wall, flinging her around like she weighed nothing.

The woman kicked and thrashed, but for all her effort, all she managed was a slash to his face before he rid her of her knife. Black spots began to cloud her vision, but Arturia took aim even as her lungs began to burn.

She had one bullet. One final attempt to make sure no Pendragon would ever have to take up the craft again. She had to spare poor Arthur. Only six and already being taught how to wield a knife. Igraine was already planning to take him out to hunt foxes. Arthur loved foxes. God. She had to make this one shot. Just this last one. For his sake. Please.

It didn’t take Gilgamesh any effort to bat her gun away.

Arturia’s emerald eyes locked with those of her assailant’s. Her whole life, she’d trained for this day, only to still come up short. It didn’t matter, the thousands that had fallen to her technique. She was still no match for him, not even after all this time.

Her nails clawed into the skin of his knuckles as Gilgamesh dipped down toward her shoulder, no doubt preparing to sink his teeth into her jugular.

Was this how she was going to meet her end? So close to finally ridding the continent of every vampire there was? So close to liberating her brother, her entire clan, from cruel deaths at the hands of the immortals? Why, after all she’d sacrificed, after giving up her life to become a hunter, did she have to fail at her mission’s most crucial moment?

Tears fell from her eyes as she shut them tight, refusing her last glimpse of life to be the eerily perfect face of the undead.

His teeth scraped against her skin. A final torture before he drained the life out of her.

Arturia braced herself for the bite, her head screaming apologies to every person she was letting down. Igraine, her late father, her cousins, Arthur.

But it never came.

“You have done well, my queen,” whispered the old creature, his cold lips brushing against her neck. Arturia gasped for air, hacking and coughing beneath him, a million questions running through her mind. He quieted them all with his thumb on her bottom lip, freezing Arturia where she lay.

“I have endured several of your lifetimes. Each, more passionless than the last. I thought myself fortunate at first, able to experience every pleasure the world had to offer, but a thousand years can make even the sweetest fruit seem vile.”

A flicker of irritation crossed his sharp, eternal features, but it was quickly replaced by something Arturia had never seen before. The emotion swelled within his vibrant ruby irises, which glowed even through a night as dark as this one.

“Eventually, I saw this ‘gift’ for what it truly was: a curse, bestowed upon me by that loathsome snake an eternity ago,” he voiced cryptically, knowing this beautiful little girl would likely never grasp just how long he’d walked this earth.

The Pendragon stared up at him with those fiery irises he’d been fond of since the first time he beheld them.

It was exactly twenty years since the day she first came here. Fifteen years old, a mere child, yet one that possessed the gall to challenge him to a duel. He spared her that day, and she went on to challenge every single creature in the continent that had been turned, coming back every now and then for another shot at his head.

Arturia wasn’t anything like those that shared her last name. Her clan was stiff. Traditional. She took their knowledge, but did not stop there, taking various forms of study to hone her craft. She'd been to Ireland to study their methods. To France to understand alchemy. Three years ago, she nearly killed him with near-invisible wire she acquired from the east. Before that, it was a sword of fire. Today, apparently, she’d gotten dexterous enough dual wielding either guns or knives, when she hadn’t that skill prior.

Ever since they met, his days were full of excitement, anticipation for the day she’d return. Suddenly, he was always on his toes, rising at the first sign of night to prepare for her next arrival. His hunts were no longer mechanical, for he knew now that he and she were bound to cross paths. Where would she see him next? On a hike into the mountains? In summer, when the days were long? Maybe even at the local ball? There were so many possibilities!

About a decade into their arrangement, Gilgamesh realized he was feeling something he hadn’t felt in eons.

He felt alive.

But like most living things, he knew Arturia had a limit. And before she reached it, before his fun could be taken away once more, he knew he had to do this. What better time than now, when he had the opportunity to caress her cheek for the first time?

“However, despite how I’ve loathed my own longevity, I never want our duels to end,” he admitted, memorizing her face, counting her freckles, brushing his thumb against lips he didn’t dare kiss for fear of imparting his curse.

“You, wicked woman, have made this soulless being crave a soul, if only to meet you once more beyond the grave.”

Minutes passed in silence as Arturia registered his confession. The night did not conceal her expressions from him. Not the fear, the anger, the confusion. He witnessed the exact moment of her realization, felt her heartbeat quicken, saw the heat rise to her cheeks. At last, she understood why she lay under him and had not yet fallen victim to his fangs.

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked calmly, her voice strained, but clear. “Why now?”

“I have desired to do so for half a decade, I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t tell you...and I cannot die without you knowing that you are treasured beyond belief.”

Slowly, he reached for her ankle, where he knew she’d hidden her last knife. It burned his flesh as he grasped the hilt, rejecting the impurity of his being, but he persisted anyway, rejoicing in the sensation. This would be one of the final times he’d experience it.

“Wh...what are you doing?” she asked as he pulled her up to face him, placing the dagger in her grip and clasping his hands around hers. Even presented with the opportunity, it was no longer killing intent that resided within her eyes, only conflict.

“Without an end to one’s existence, love, the delights of what you call ‘life’ have no meaning,” he explained, moving her arms so that the blade’s tip rested just above his heart. “Therefore, Arturia Pendragon, I ask that your worthy hands grant me mine.”

He’d expected his death to be immediate, to happen as soon as he loosened his hold. Gilgamesh knew better than anybody what Arturia had at stake and who she was protecting. Hell, he was excited just contemplating what kind of life she’d lead, now that she’d been liberated of her family’s burden.

But now, when her goal was right in front of her, she hesitated.

For what seemed like a better eternity, Gilgamesh watched her stare into his exhausted red eyes, like she was engraving their intimidating splendor into her memory.

“Thank you.”

His death couldn’t have been sweeter.

[dimigex]

Healing Hands - Chapter 11 - YamaSaku

Full chapter available on A03, FF. If you like what I do, feel free to support me on ko-fi!

Sakura watched the sun rise from Yamato's apartment while stifling a yawn that threatened to unhinge her jaw. The man had fallen asleep twenty minutes ago after an evening of textbook withdrawal symptoms. Yamato had spent the night vomiting, shivering on the bathroom floor, and experiencing a state of near constant anxiety that left him unable to rest. Or, maybe the insomnia came from fear of facing his nightmares. Yamato refused to talk about them, and Sakura hadn't pushed. Not that they'd had time between the trips to the bathroom.

Even though Yamato was asleep, it wouldn't be considered restful by any stretch of the imagination. He tossed and turned on the bed, clutching the blanket to his chest like a life preserver. His pale face had grown more sunken with each bout of vomiting. Sweat dappled the man's forehead, either from the recent spell of dry heaves or his body's struggle to regulate itself. Sakura hadn't asked when Yamato ate last, but it couldn't have been recently.

Since Yamato was resting for at least a few minutes, Sakura made her way to the kitchen. She hadn't been lying when she'd said that he was going to feel worse, but some sustenance might help him fight through it. At least, it would if Yamato could keep it down. The remaining beers, a couple of questionable takeout containers, and some wilted vegetables waited in the fridge. The cabinets yielded even less: a packet of rice and three protein bars that were the flavor of honeyed cardboard.

A tin on the back of one shelf caught Sakura's eye, and she shoved the rations out of the way. Four or five packages of teas were tucked away in the corner, a thin film of dust forming on the top. Sakura snorted in amusement at the unexpected find. Somehow, the idea of a man who drank herbal tea and abused alcohol didn't connect in her mind. She scanned the ingredients until she found one that had ginger near the top. The root had natural anti-nausea properties that would help with vomiting once Yamato got it into his system.

Continuing to rummage through the kitchen, Sakura came up with a tea kettle and filled it with water. While waiting for that to heat, she cleaned up the bottle tops and dirty glasses from the previous night. Sakura retrieved the sake and cup from the living room as well, and washed the latter. She considered tipping the alcohol down the drain, but decided that it wasn't her decision to make. If Yamato was serious about getting clean, he needed to take that step himself.

The whistle of the tea kettle pulled Sakura from her thoughts. Before the sound could wake Yamato, she removed it from the heat and filled a mug with hot water. When Sakura dropped the tea sachet inside, soft green and gold unfurled in the liquid. She considered making a second cup, but wasn't sure how long Yamato would sleep. It wouldn't take long to fix one when he woke, so she waited for hers to be ready and carried it to the living room.

As she settled on the couch, Sakura considered the next steps. She still had to determine the full extent of Yamato's struggles. Nightmares, alcohol, and stimulants were a given, but she was fairly certain that it went deeper than that. He had opened up a little bit, but there was more work to do. Yamato would eventually need to talk to someone, after detox. They'd made it through the first twelve hours, but the next seventy-two would be harder.

Sakura had read about addiction and recovery, of course, but not in enough detail to help Yamato as much as she wanted. She would need to stop by her office and pick up some books to help them muddle through. Even without in-depth study, Sakura knew that Yamato needed a bare minimum of a week to fully detox; she couldn't put off presenting her findings to Kakashi for that long.

While telling her former mentor about Yamato's condition should be the easiest part of Sakura's job, he was close to her patient. She couldn't ignore the pained expression on Yamato's face every time that the Hokage's name came up. While Sakura doubted that Kakashi would fault Yamato for his circumstances, she didn't blame the man for wanting to save face in the eyes of an old friend. That meant Sakura would need to be creative while keeping Kakashi away long enough for Yamato to complete his detox.

After Yamato had purged the many substances from his system, Sakura would have to transition him to more traditional therapy. Ino would probably get involved at that point, or someone like her. Sakura wasn't qualified to do a full psychological exam, as much as she wished she was. Chewing on her lower lip, she wondered if Yamato would go along with that part of his treatment. If not, Sakura would be forced to explain everything to Kakashi and let him decide the next steps.

Sakura yawned again, deciding that was a problem for another day. For now, she wanted to curl up on the couch and steal a few hours of sleep. The previous night had been a blur after Yamato woke from his nightmare. The two hours that Sakura had managed before it hadn't been enough. A headache buzzed through her temples like an angry bee, insistent and growing stronger by the moment. She thought there might be a little caffeine in her tea, but it wasn't enough to hold the pain at bay. The ginger hadn't helped the sick feeling in her stomach, either.

If Sakura pushed through, she could get a jump on her plans for the rest of Yamato's treatment. Except, she couldn't leave him alone, not yet. They hadn't talked much beyond the urgency of needing the toilet to vomit or wanting a drink to wash the taste away. Thankfully, the former had grown less frequent toward morning. Yamato's body had nothing left to spend, not that it realized that yet. The dry heaves continued in an almost predictable pattern. It had been at least an hour since the last-

As if on cue, the sound drew Sakura from her stupor of half sleep. Sighing, she drained the rest of her tea and carried her empty cup to the kitchen. The water was still warm enough, so Sakura poured another for Yamato. She found him on the bed after his latest spell of trying to empty his stomach. The man cradled his head in his hand, groaning against the pain rampaging through it. When Sakura stepped into the room, Yamato blinked at her through bleary eyes. "You're still here."

Sakura hummed in agreement and held out the cup. "The ginger will help settle your stomach until I can get you something stronger."

Yamato closed his hand around the cup without looking at the murky liquid. "Something stronger?"

The beginnings of hope stirred in Yamato's voice as he lifted the tea to his lips. He paused halfway and made a face, lowering it back to his lap so quickly that some of the liquid splashed over the rim of the cup. Apparently, his body didn't like the idea of calming tea in place of the alcohol it wanted. Sakura settled on the edge of Yamato's bed. "If you level with me about the substances you've been using and the amounts, I can find something to make the detox easier. But, you have to be honest. Prescribing the wrong thing is as likely to kill you as help you."

Yamato set the cup of tea untouched on the nightstand beside him and propped himself up against the headboard. He looked worse than Sakura had ever seen with pale, sunken cheeks and bloodshot eyes. She sighed. "You're already having tremors and nausea, and they're not going to get better. In a few hours, your body will start trying to regulate itself without alcohol. Heart rate, blood pressure, and temperature will spike. You won't be able to sleep or shut down your body's hyper awareness of everything. All of that is just the alcohol detox. If there's something else—"

"I know," Yamato growled, voice rough as unpolished stones. "I told you this wasn't the first time I'd been through it."

Sensing that sarcasm would only make Yamato shut down further, Sakura held her tongue. If he already knew the hell that was detox, why was he putting his body through it a second time? She raised an eyebrow to indicate her curiosity, but remained silent. Yamato shrugged as if the words that came next were inconsequential. "I wasn't much older than you are now. Team Ro had been on a string of bad missions. I'd watched four teammates die in the course of two weeks, one of them by my command."

The words didn't match the empty expression on Yamato's face. Sakura had no idea what to say to the revelation, so she remained silent and let him finish. When the moment stretched into discomfort, he shrugged. "Kakashi pulled me back from the edge, helped me through detox, and covered for me with the Sandaime."

Understanding bloomed in Sakura's chest, followed swiftly by pity. "That's why you don't want to tell him. You don't want him to know that it happened again."

"Something like that." Yamato closed his eyes and tipped his head against the wall. Sakura was struck by how young the man beside her looked. It was more than the casual grey t-shirt and navy sweatpants, more than the lack of armor. There was something deeper, something about the vulnerability of Yamato allowing her to see him this way. If their situations had been reversed, Sakura wasn't sure she would have let him stay.

The man continued without opening his eyes. "The last one was a month long bender that I barely remember."

As the pieces began to fall into place, Sakura realized that she didn't like the picture that was forming. "And, this time?"

Yamato sighed, soft and reluctant. "The better part of two years with varying degrees."

Sakura fought to keep the surprise from reaching her face, but it didn't matter. Yamato didn't look at her; he kept his eyes shut as he made the confession. Her stomach sank. The man had been completing S-rank missions for two years while his life fell apart around him. The timeframe bothered her, but she couldn't put her finger on why.

Yamato cracked one eye open, gauging Sakura's reaction. "I used soldier pills to keep from sleeping for days at a time. When I crashed, I still had nightmares, so I drank until I passed out. It was functional."

"Functional," Sakura repeated. Her mind reeled at the word. "Functional right up to the point that you gave yourself a heart attack? How many were you using?"

To Yamato's credit, he didn't flinch away. "Enough to get the job done. One or two at first, a handful more recently."

Sakura sat stupefied, trying to understand how a man who she knew to be intelligent and conscientious could think that taking a handful of pills was a good idea. A single soldier pill was potent enough to keep a shinobi on their feet for two days before their body succumbed to exhaustion. Sakura couldn't begin to imagine the damage that five or more of the tablets could do. Except, she could. The evidence had been staring at her in Yamato's elevated blood pressure and heart rate, in his moodiness and inability to sleep. Nausea tightened its grip on her stomach.

Forcing out a breath, Sakura inclined her head. She didn't trust herself to thank Yamato for sharing that information, not yet. Wanting to confirm a theory that had been brewing in her mind, Sakura reached out and caught Yamato's wrist. He flinched back, but he didn't pull away. Nodding to herself, Sakura pressed her fingers against the man's pulse point and counted the beats. She frowned at the number. "You didn't have time to regulate your heartbeat that time, did you?"

Yamato exhaled an almost laugh that neither confirmed nor denied Sakura's theory. The rapid rise and fall of the man's heart rate during his stress test suddenly made more sense. Sakura wanted to hit him, to pummel him for using Anbu tricks to mess up her results, but she linked her fingers together and counted to five under her breath. She stifled the fear that he'd taught the trick to anyone else. One problem at a time. "Are you taking anything else?"

For a moment, Yamato considered the question. Sakura braced herself for another revelation, but he shook his head. "No, nothing else."

"Good." Sakura nodded and pushed to her feet. "Here's what we're going to do. If you're serious about getting better, you're going to dump out the rest of your alcohol, then turn over the soldier pills you have left."

Something dark flitted through Yamato's eyes, but after a moment, it passed. Struggling to his feet, he stumbled toward the dresser. Yamato opened one of the drawers, lifted out a pouch of pills, and dropped them into Sakura's palm. He slid another bag from a second drawer, then retrieved more from the backpack that leaned against the wall. Sakura followed the man to the bathroom where a package nestled in a corner of the medicine cabinet. The final bag hid on a high shelf in the kitchen.

Sakura didn't comment on the number of pills that Yamato had secreted around his apartment. It wouldn't help anything. Getting rid of the tablets seemed to give the man enough sense of purpose to hold the nausea at bay for a time. He paused by the bottle of sake that Sakura had moved to the counter. She waited in silence, letting him wrap his head around throwing out the alcohol that had been his comfort less than twenty-four hours before.

Yamato spun the top off of the bottle and tipped it over the sink. The liquid splashed into the drain, it's unmistakable scent flavoring the air. He lingered after the alcohol disappeared then sighed and emptied the beers in rapid succession. "Okay, now what?"

"Now," Sakura answered, turning the tap on to wash away the sticky residue of alcohol, "you're going to go take a shower, if you feel up to it. I'm going to the hospital to get a few things taken care of, then I'll be back to help see you through the worst of this."

Yamato let the counter take the majority of his weight as he turned to Sakura. "I'll be fine if you—"

"I'll be back in two hours at the most," Sakura interrupted. Yamato's lips pressed into a line that could have been annoyance or thankfulness as he nodded. "Try to sleep if you can, or do something to take your mind off things. I'll be back soon."

(the rest of the chapter is available on Archive of Our Own and Fanfiction.net (linked above))

[twittytelly]

An Unexpected Gain

Chapter Four - Once Upon a Time

Colin Shea X Female Reader

Previously…

Series Masterlist

A/N: So this is the end of the main story, but not the end of the road. I am planning on writing a little epilogue, plus once I get it off my old laptop I'm going to edit my first first draft of chapter 3 and turn it into another side chapter. I just want to thank you all so much for your feedback on this story, it really means the world to me – I will definitely be writing more Colin stories alongside fic for some of Chris' other pre-Cap roles in the future. Also this chapter would probably not exist without @southerngracela​ read this to see why.

Warnings: Sexual references, swearing, bleeding in pregnancy, miscarriage scare.

Mood board by@imanuglywombat​

Colin didn't sleep that night, paralysed by the guilt that had flooded his veins. He was desperate to find a way to make things better, to make things right. He knew that things could not go back to how they were before, but he didn't mind. Deep down he had always wanted the traditional rituals, pumpkin carving, Easter egg hunts and Christmas tree decorating; but he figured that being raised by his father, who's only method of father-son bonding was to bring him along to a stakeout coupled with his selfish nature meant that fatherhood was not for him.

The blinding sun that invaded through the crack in the curtains informed Colin that morning had arrived. Forcing himself out of bed, he had a new resolve. Colin figured that he may have blown his chance with you, but he could never forgive himself for fucking up his chance with his kid. Besides, you deserved far better than he could ever give you.

-

Things had gotten better between yourself and Colin in the weeks following the showdown in the hallway. While that night was not mentioned again, Colin had gone above and beyond to show that he wanted to be as involved in your pregnancy as possible. The day after the confrontation, you had arrived home from work to find a big bouquet of your favourite flowers alongside a hamper full of crackers, hard boiled sweets, and all the ginger flavoured snacks and drinks available with a note saying:

If none of this works or you get a weird craving, let me know. I'm at your beck and call. C xx

But that was just the start of it. Colin seemed to have obtained every baby book in Boston, and then set up a shared iCalendar so he could be there for every appointment. There was also the extensive research he'd done into midwives, antenatal classes and even hypnobirthing. Not a day went by without Colin sharing a link to a baby product, stating that he would have to buy most things for himself to keep at his place anyway – as much as that stung you were pleased that he was prepared to step up for the sake of the baby.

You were trying your best to overcome your feelings for Colin, but his actions had caused the opposite to happen. How could you not be in love with your handsome neighbour who rubbed your back as you vomited and looked at you as if you were most amazing person on the planet; who would always get you whatever you were craving after a gig, even if it meant going out of his way; who you could talk to about anything and everything, from absolute nonsense to your deepest fears about motherhood?

-

Colin was tearing his apartment apart looking for the right cable for his amp. Band practice may have only been taking place on the roof, but he didn't want to make his bandmates wait around. While he was rooting around his desk, he knocked his mouse, causing his computer monitor to come to life and your face lit up the screen. Colin remembered snapping that moment months ago, when you found him alone on the rooftop after one of your dates had gone wrong. You had weasled Colin into playing one of your favourite songs and began dancing in the moonlight. Colin recalled how he had to capture the look of pure unadulterated joy on your face as you swayed in the glow of the city. Colin could still hear you giggling as you raced down the stairs to his apartment and he realised then that he was done for. He didn't fuck you that night: for the first time in Colin's life, he had made love.

Colin was so lost in his thoughts that he almost didn't hear the frantic banging on the door. He looked away from his computer and sighed.

“Hang on I'll be up in a s-”

“Colin I'm bleeding!”

-

Colin would never remember how he had gotten you both to the hospital, but he could never forget the tension that filled the air as you sat in the waiting room in the maternity ward. Colin was trying his best to stay calm for your sake, but his insides were still twisting and turning. His heart shattered as he felt you tremble in his arms. He did his best to soothe you by delicately running his hand along your back, your face buried in his shoulder. If Colin had his way he would pull you onto his lap, however he knew that now more than ever he had to respect your boundaries. Colin noticed his shoulder moisten as your trembles turned into sobs, he tightened his arms around you and placed a chaste kiss to your temple.

“Hey, hey you're gonna be okay” He said desperate to comfort you. “Whatever happens, I'm here.” You hands tightened on his plaid shirt as you looked up into his eyes. In that moment, Colin swore that he would do anything to take away the fear that was in your eyes and used his thumb to wipe away the tears on your puffy cheeks.

“I'm just so scared Colin.” You said in a voice barely above a whisper. Colin leant down to place another kiss on your forehead.

“I know sweetheart, me too.” Colin confessed. Colin opened his mouth to say something else, but before the words could come out your name was called out. Once again your destiny was calling you, except this time you were hoping with every fibre of your being that pregnancy would be the result. Colin rose from his seat and turned to you holding out his hand.

“I promise that we're in this together.”

-

Once you had heard your baby's heartbeat, it was explained that it was likely a sub-chorionic bleed and you were still likely to have an healthy pregnancy. As the nurse explained that you needed to take it easy for a few days, you couldn't help but zone into Colin's demeanour. As your twelve week scan was still a couple of weeks away this was Colin's first scan. When you saw the look on his face as he heard his child's heartbeat for the first time, you knew that no matter how abnormal this whole situation was; you could not be happier that you were doing this with Colin.

You felt that you should have been excited or at least relieved, but you were numb and exhausted. As you climbed into the passenger seat of Colin's van, you barely registered him speaking to you; luckily he didn't press you for an answer and he began to drive. Instinctively you placed your hand on your belly, where your warm hand brushed against the strip of skin that was exposed after your top had ridden up slightly.

You were still preoccupied when Colin made an unannounced stop and so you didn't notice that he had gotten out of the van until he was getting back in. He passed you a warm paper bag that smelled of fries. As the engine came back to life you noticed the excitement was rolling off Colin in waves and for the first time in what felt like decades a small smile crept across your face.

Soon enough you were outside your apartment block, where Colin escorted you inside with one arm slung protectively around your shoulders. Once you were inside and settled on the sofa, Colin retreated to the kitchen, but within seconds was back and handing you a plate of your exact order from one of your favourite burger places. Without saying a word, you inhaled your meal like a lioness devouring her prey. You noticed Colin sit beside you as closely as possible and you both ate in silence.

You couldn't help but think of the parallels between now and that night a few weeks ago; especially as Colin was there for you in the exact same way. It was as if he intuitively knew what you needed. You knew that the pair of you were committed to having this baby as friends, but you couldn't help but feel that he was acting more like a boyfriend. You knew that once the stupor had worn off you had to bring it all up again.

When you both had finished eating, Colin took the empty plates into the kitchen. As he returned you noticed that the excitement had evolved into nerves as he tried to calculate his next move. He stood to the side of the sofa and fidgeted about, until you stood up and made your way to him. Taking your hand in his, you looked up into his beautiful blue eyes.

“I don't think I can sleep if I'm here on my own, please can you stay until I drop off?”

“Of course I will sweetheart,” Colin answered. “You know I'd do anything for you.”

Once again he let you lead him into your bedroom, but Colin looked away as you kicked off your trainers and socks. Not bothering with your pyjamas, you shimmed out of your jeans and bra. As he heard rustle of your quilt Colin lay on the bed beside you, staying above the duvet.

“Sorry for being such a misery guts, I know I should be more excit-”

“Don't be silly Y/N.” Said Colin sympathetically. “God knows you've been through the ringer tonight, of course you're exhausted.”

You nodded gratefully. “I know this may sound a bit silly, but could you just – I don't know – tell me a story or something – I need to take my mind of tonight for a bit.” Colin gave you a thoughtful look, before kissing you on the forehead again.

“I know just the tale.” He said jokingly as you made yourself comfortable and closed your eyes.

“Once upon a time, just down the corridor lived a jester. The jester was handsome, smart and sexy as hell.”

You did your best to suppress the snort that broke free, of course Colin would use the opportunity to talk about himself.

“The jester was a gifted musician, who would often use his talents to enchant a wench back to his chambers: where he would demonstrate his other mind-blowing capabilities.”

“Colin if you're gonna use this as an excuse to brag about your sexual escapades then I'd rather be alone.” You said in faux annoyance.

“Of course not and if you stop interrupting me, you'll see this is an epic love story.”

Sighing, you indicated to Colin that he was free to continue.

“One day the most fair and beautiful maiden moved in opposite the jester. The jester tried with all of his might, but the maiden was immune to the jester's charms; for she dreamed of being swept off her feet by a handsome prince and the jester believed that true love was not his fate.”

You opened your eyes and looked at Colin as he was staring at the wall. Was he talking about you? A past conquest? Some made up fantasy woman? As Colin turned to look at you, you quickly closed your eyes and hoped he didn't catch you staring.

“The maiden found many suitors, but they did not appreciate the maiden's beauty and kind nature. One fateful night, the jester saved the maiden from the clutches of a troll disguised as a prince. The maiden thanked the jester by letting him spend a magical night in her chambers.”

Your heart started to pound against your ribcage. Yes, he was talking about you, but why? What was Colin trying to achieve?

“The next day the jester promised to help the maiden find her true love and would satisfy her needs in the mean time. However, as the jester spent more time with the maiden, he began to enjoy her companionship and as the weeks turned to months the jester realised that he had fallen in love with the her.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and your heart skipped a beat. Colin was in love. With you... But when? How? Why the fuck didn't he say anything?! You noticed that Colin's breathing had changed and as his fingertips tentatively brushed your across your face to move a stray hair, you opened your eyes to see the azure of his eyes looking right back at you with the boldness to take down a dragon. Before you had the chance to say anything, Colin continued to speak.

“The jester knew that he was not good enough for the maiden and believed that once she had found her prince charming he would have to do whatever it took in order for her to be happy.”

“Colin I-”

“Sh!” Colin interrupted, pressing his index finger to your lips. The story isn't over yet sweetheart.” You decided not to argue to see where Colin was trying to go. As Colin removed his finger, he took a deep breath.

“One day the jester decided to visit the maiden to find that she was most upset. The jester did his best to comfort the maiden, but he found something that did not belong to him... something that... I assumed that it wasn't mine.”

You sat up, your heartbeat accelerating. “Colin wh-”

“The week before, you brought home that James guy home.”

“He missed the last train home and I offered him the couch, but he tried to get into bed with me so I kicked him out. Anyway Colin I was six weeks along when I found out.” You explained as you tried to figure out if you were angry or hurt. “You were the only person I was sleeping with for a while. Colin we could have been together weeks ago, why didn't you say anything?”

“Because I'm not the guy girls want to end up with, I'm just the slutty neighbour. All everyone wants from me is a second round in the morning.”

“Yeah and you proved that when-” you started feeling more agitated.

“If I could take that back then I would!” Colin almost snapped, hurt filling his eyes. Colin went to look away, but you reached out and put your hand on his cheek, forcing him to keep eye contact. “Y/N don't forget that you hid from your feelings for as long as I did. You deserve to be swept off your feet and to ride off into happily ever after with your prince charming, and that's not me.”

“Listen here, Jester.” you said as your thumb stroked Colin's cheek. “I don't want that bullshit. I want Once Upon a Time with you; the guy who never fails to make me laugh, who filled his cupboards with the exact brand of ginger tea that I like, who always comes to my rescue when I need him most.”

Colin's eyes widened like a child on Christmas morning as you leaned in closer and dropped your voice to a whisper.

“Also don't tell the little one, but the sex is pretty mind-blowin-”

Before you had a chance to finish, you felt Colin's soft lips on yours. Bedsheets were shoved to one side as arms wrapped around each of your bodies, pulling you both as close to each other as possible. You deepened the kiss, allowing Colin's tongue entrance, where you both tried to disclose the feelings that words could not define. Eventually, the kiss came to an end, and you both parted for air. Resting your head on his shoulder, you watched as Colin hesitantly placed his hand on your belly. There was no bump yet, but you couldn't help the goosebumps that appeared as Colin stroked your stomach. Colin looked up, with the biggest grin you could ever imagine, excited for what the future had in store.

“I love you Y/N.” Beaming back at him, you replied simply with the only four words needed.

“I love you too.”

-

Taglist: @whiskey-cokenfanfic @mrs-captain-evans @ransomsweatersandcappuccinos @southerngracela @katiew1973 @supersoldiersruined-me @kelbabyblue @amiquette @feelmyroarrrr @patzammit @daydreamerinadazedworld @denisemarieangelina @jeremyrennermakesmesmile​ @bellaireland1981

[nellie-elizabeth]

Supernatural: Carry On (15x20)

Oh my god. Lol. So... did Andrew Dabb forget to read back through his finale script one final time before deciding it was finished? Because like... Dean says "if we don't keep living, all that sacrifice (Cas and Jack) will be for nothing." Cut to a comically short time later, where Dean dies and is just like "time to go, let's not keep fighting, I'm tired lol."

Like WHAT did I just witness. I'm so grateful, in this moment, to a little show called The Magicians, because in April of 2019 they ended their fourth season with such an egregiously terrible decision that I literally couldn't sleep for a week, I was shaking and intermittently sobbing, I had never felt so betrayed and devastated over any piece of media before. After that, I've sort of become numb to bad endings, and this is no exception. This episode was absolutely terrible and I'm just sort of like... meh. I'll ignore it. Whatever.

I do want to forego the usual "pro" and "con" sections in this review, and do a more traditional full-on ramble about my thoughts, because they're kind of convoluted, if I'm gonna be honest.

The first thing I want to say, is that this wasn't the worst finale I've ever seen. Objectively, it was a terrible episode of TV and an insulting wrap-up to a fifteen-year-show. But I have a very specific category for the worst finales ever, and those are the ones that provide endgame states for the characters that are... unfixable in a post-canon but still-canon-compliant world. So, for example, the How I Met Your Mother finale killed off the titular mother and betrayed years of buildup, and that's a real-world sitcom. There's no resurrecting people from that shit. Or like. Game of Thrones being an obvious recent example. The Rise of Skywalker is a good movie example.

This? It's a little different. The endgame state of Sam and Dean and Cas is that they all die and spend eternity in Heaven, where they get to be with all their loved ones. I mean, sure, we don't get to see that, we only get a throwaway line to imply that Cas made it out of Super Turbo Hell The Empty, but that's the endgame state of the characters. And that's more or less what I would have wanted, as like a... years after canon situation. Right? So yeah, this was a bad episode, but if I edit in the shit I wanted to see, none of it contradicts the canon in a way that's not workable. It's a sad world we've come to where this is all I can really grasp at, but there is a perverse sort of comfort in that.

So, should we talk now about how Dean dying is a betrayal of what they said this whole season, and maybe whole show was about? Ha. It's so ridiculous. It's embarrassing. I watched Dean's final moments and I was embarrassed for Jensen. For Dean. For all of us watching.

Just. Watch the end of 15x19 again, okay? Watch it, and hear what they're saying. Yay, we killed God, we killed the author of the story, which means we get to write our own stories, finally. We get to do that. After all this time, we're finally free. And what does freedom look like? It looks like Dean dying on a run of the mill hunt.

We get this little montage of Sam and Dean at the Bunker, you know? They're doing laundry and going on jogs and cuddling with Miracle the dog, and they're brushing their teeth and going on hunts, I guess. And the emotional resonance from that scene was just kind of... ennui? And boredom? And that's what's so terrible and depressing about this ending. It's so empty, because Dean didn't get to do the thing he said he was fighting for. Sure, he was always fighting for Sam, but he should have been able to fight for himself, too, right? He should have been able to fight for a life after the years of programming. He should have gotten to be a rock star or a chef or worked at an animal shelter or become a foster parent or grown old as Sam's brother, as an uncle to his kid. He should have been able to find love, if he wanted that.

Look, I'm not even mad that Dean died in a "mundane" way. It's not like "nooo Dean is too coooool to die in such a laaaame way, he's a bad-ass and he should have gone out in a blaze of glory!" That's actually not what I'm mad about at all. Sam died old in his bed, and Dean should have been able to do that too. This whole season, since finding out that Chuck was the ultimate big bad, was supposed to be about free will, and Dean never got to figure out a way to be happy and find peace. That's fucking dour and stupid.

I kept saying, in the buildup to this finale, that a depressing, grim-dark ending to this show would be a failing of the themes they set up, and, hey, they didn't go grim-dark, because the writers did not think this was grim-dark. They thought it was powerful and emotional and resonant. You can tell they thought that, even though they're... uh... what's the word. Wrong? Yeah. Wrong. You know what I realized while watching this? It was just a lamer, less resonant and appropriate version of Sam's sacrifice at the end of season five.

Right? Because after Sam yeets himself into hell to save the world, Dean just has to keep going, and as Cas says, "you got what you wanted, more of the same." Just... more of the same. And Dean couldn't hack it, he was miserable without Sam, and Sam came back and we got ten more years of the fucking show. And now... what, we just get that in the other direction? Because Sam is the strong one and can soldier on without Dean because his codependency was a little less crippling? Wow, what a great ending for him, I guess. It doesn't work because we've seen Sam without Dean, and he falls apart too.

And now the show ends with Sam alone. Sure, he gets married to a blur in the background and has a kid, but let me ask you a question, here. Did Sam... want to be a father? I didn't know that was a thing he wanted, that would make him happy, honestly. I had no idea. So this doesn't seem like it works as something even remotely satisfying as an endgame state for him either. It's bleak.

And it's bleaker because there's nobody else in this fucking episode, y'all. The other big theme in all of Supernatural, after "free will" would be "family don't end in blood." And guess what? Apparently it does? Apparently Sam and Dean are each other's whole worlds and nothing else matters? We get... an implied wider world but we don't get to see it. We don't get to see Eileen, Jody, Donna, anybody left alive for Sam. So from the standpoint of characters that we know and give a shit about, Sam loses Cas, Jack, and Dean and lives the rest of his life lonely and sad. Nobody else even comes to Dean's funeral. It's just Sam alone with the dog. Like... that's bleak.

This ending gave the fucking Wincest shippers everything their hearts could desire, for fuck's sake. Like. Why did they cater to that and not follow through on the idea that they had created a family and community beyond each other? You know, this thing called character growth?

To take a brief break from the negativity, I will say something here about Sam and Dean. In the weird hysterical euphoria of the whole Destiel thing a couple weeks ago, I lost sight of something, which is that for me, the draw of this show has always been the relationship between Sam and Dean. I was never a brothers-only person, but it was their fucked up codependent bond that drew me to the show over the years. I loved the idea of Destiel, but I never thought it was going anywhere, so really I loved Castiel, the character, separate from the context of his relationships. Having a big dramatic death scene where Dean says "I love you so much" and there's a forehead touch and Dean saying "it's always been you and me" and confesses that he was scared to get Sam at Stanford because he didn't know how to survive if he didn't have him, and to have Sam say "don't leave me" and then give Dean permission to go... I mean, all of this is catnip, right? All of this is great, like, in isolation, it was such an amazing "broment," as the fandom says. I mean, it made no sense with context, it was utterly insulting in every way, but Jensen and Jared acted their lil' hearts out and I could tell they were really in the moment.

So let's talk about Cas for a second, while I have you here... they never should have done the big gay confession. They just shouldn't have even fucking bothered. I'm telling you, that makes this whole thing worse. It felt completely intentional and weird that Dean never acknowledged the confession, never told Sam, never had a moment where he specifically reckoned with Cas' loss. But that's what I knew would happen. I knew it in my blood and bones, and as the meta started pouring in, I knew people were getting their hopes up for nothing. See, Cas saying "goodbye Dean" and the handprint on the arm... I knew that was their catharsis, that was the writers' and Misha's big goodbye to the character of Castiel. They thought they fucking nailed it. I knew we wouldn't see him again.

Like I said before, I have to be satisfied with an endgame state that doesn't totally suck, right? So, we get this throwaway line from Bobby that Jack fixed Heaven and made it not suck, and that Cas helped. This implies a multitude of things that are... comforting. At least Cas doesn't get that dour, dark, helpless oblivion that I worried he'd get. We can assume Jack plucked him out of the Empty, that he gets to be with his son, and that, if the fic writers so choose, Dean and Cas can have lots of gay sex up in Heaven. I think Misha not being in this finale was frankly a slap in the face to one of the biggest and most important characters the show has ever seen, you know? And I think that they kept him out of it so we could have Schrodinger's Destiel. Because if we'd seen Cas in heaven, and he hadn't confessed his big gay love, Dean could have been like: "hey Cas! Buddy! Good to see you, my friend." But since we did have the love confession, whatever Dean did upon seeing Cas would have to mean something in that context. So instead we didn't get to see him at all.

Which is stupid.

Also stupid is that the big sacrifice was to save Dean's life and then a couple weeks later he gets impaled on a rusty nail and dies anyway. Thanks for making the whole thing feel so utterly pointless and empty. No pun intended. Wow, they did Misha dirty, here, didn't they.

Turning back to Sam's ending, let's just talk about that for a minute. Like I said, I'm happy he got to live a long life and die an old man, what Dean always wanted for him. But nothing about that ending was more poignant because Dean was gone. In fact, it just made it super duper depressing and lame. There was no reason Dean couldn't have gotten a happy life, too. It adds nothing that he died young and unfulfilled. Like, you know how people joke about the end of the Titanic, where you see that Rose's Heaven is reuniting with Jack and everyone else on the ship, and people will say "well, gosh, that's kind of a slap in the face to Rose's family" since she clearly got married and had kids and grandkids? This is literally that! Like, having an ending where a young-again Sam Winchester gets to Heaven, and his whole Heaven, the thing that he needed to find peace after death, was a return to his brother... look, I'm not mad about that, but what the fuck about nameless blurry wife that we couldn't even confirm to be Eileen for some reason? What about everyone else?

And did Sam... keep hunting? Did he go to law school? Maybe there were background details that confirmed what he ended up doing with the rest of his life besides becoming a husband and father, but I didn't see evidence of it because I was too busy rolling my eyes out of my skull at how dumb this all was. So Sam just gets a generic "raking leaves in the yard" ending, like we saw for Dean at the end of season five, with nothing to challenge that. Even though we've seen why life outside of hunting, life without Dean, isn't satisfying for Sam, we're now supposed to accept it as how he spends the rest of his life, without seeing him put the work in to get there?

One thing I realized watching this episode is that it tries to play the middle. Like, with the Cas thing, they didn't want to make his noble gay sacrifice totally meaningless, so they couldn't just pop him back into the story, but they did give us one single throwaway line to reassure fans that he's not still in The Empty. So, people who don't give a shit about Cas can assume he's off being Jack's assistant and doesn't really interact with humans in Heaven. People who do give a shit about one of the show's main characters can assume that he has a home in Dean's little Heaven neighborhood too, and they all get to buddy around for eternity. People who don't like Eileen? Well, Sam married some nobody who we never got to meet. People who liked her? Well, you can't prove that wasn't Eileen, can you? Even Dean driving around in the impala waiting for Sam to die so he could finally be happy with his fucking soulmate or whatever. Time in Heaven is weird, Bobby says. It's metaphorical. You could assume that the driving montage was actually intercut with other moments, with Dean getting to see dear old mom (and dad, I guess, but ugh), and spending time with Bobby, with OG Charlie, with other familiar faces, and new ones as they finally reach their own deaths on Earth and come up to party with the rest of the gang.

Like, in a better show, in a world without Covid, maybe they had plans along these lines, to get more guest characters back and show Dean getting sappy hellos to a bunch of side characters in Heaven. To be quite honest, I would not have been mad about that. If you're going to make Dean die young and never give him the chance to find out who he could have been when the choices were all his own, which is, in case I haven't made that clear, a horrendous and insulting ending for his character... at the very least you could have given us the cheesiness of seeing him hug his friends in Heaven. Jeezus.

I want to hammer in this point one more time before I wrap up: they ended the show by saying that character development didn't matter. They had Dean's dying speech be a meta reference to the pilot episode of the show, they had him saying "it's always been you and me" and then they confirmed that with everything they had. Sam became a father, but did he have a happy life? Seems like he pined away for his dead brother for decades and then died. If the pilot had never happened, if Sam had stayed at Stanford and Dean had gone on hunting by himself, you know what would have happened? Sam would have had a "normal" life and married a woman and had a kid, I guess, and grown old, and Dean would have died fighting some vampires in a barn. This show has been on for fifteen years, and the ending did not honor anything about the journey the characters had been on.

A particularly egregious example is the early scene with the pie festival, where Sam is like "I'm sad about Cas and Jack" and Dean is like "if we don't go on living it won't honor their sacrifice" like... yeah, I get it, bringing people back from the dead time and time again is supposed to be a bad thing that Sam and Dean did for each other because they were selfish. So Sam giving Dean permission to go was supposed to be a growth moment. Sam and Dean accepting that Cas was gone and not even asking Jack to make sure he got sent to a happy eternity instead of oblivion, that's supposed to mean they've learned their lesson. And what a fucking lesson to leave things off on. Jesus, this is grim.

So like. As I try to figure out what to say at the end of this review, I will point out one glimmer of light in the darkness, which is that this finale isn't going to ruin the rewatchability of the show for me. I can still come back and re-watch without feeling like the whole thing is ruined by the ending. It's more than I can say for some other shows.

But honestly, if this was the ending we were going to get? Why the fuck not leave it open-ended? I did not enjoy 15x19 particularly well, but at least that episode left them on the open road, with a wide future ahead of them. Anything might have happened. It's their turn to write the story, right? Chuck is dead, the writer is "dead", the show is over, and now the possibilities are endless. That would have been an anticlimactic ending, for sure. But this ending just turns around and slaps the whole point of that first ending in the face and says "haha bitch you thought". They don't get to write their own stories. We see exactly how those stories end, and it's lame. Leave something to the imagination, yo. Leave it vague how and when they died, what their lives turned into. Show them in Heaven, getting to their peace at last, reuniting with their friends, including Cas. Put in a significant glance between Dean and Cas, and leave it to the internet to go wild about what it could mean. And never answer when fans ask "so what happened, when did they die? Did they keep hunting?" Just leave it vague. If this was the only ending they could come up with, I'd rather be left with questions.

This finale gets a low score from me, because they couldn't even pull on the right heartstrings to make me sentimental...

4/10

But the show as a whole? Well, it was a mess, and it had some seriously high highs and some devastatingly low lows. It's a bummer that the lowest low came in how they tried to wrap up the whole shebang, but like I said, this ending isn't going to ruin the whole fifteen-year run for me. We get to make up what happens next, and we can make Jack's new and improved Heaven our post-canon fix-it haven. I don't think there's ever been a show in my life quite like Supernatural. The fandom is so bonkers. The meta narrative of the show is so convoluted and twisty and goes in so many unexpected directions. I liked watching this show for its own sake, and also as like... an anthropologist trying to discover something about humanity and American values specifically. It wasn't always a pleasant experience, but it was one I know I'll never forget. My heart tells me to give the show as a whole a high score, representing the many, many hours of joy and dread and delight and horror I got over the near decade I've personally been watching. How do you wrap up fifteen years in a score out of ten?

9/10

[gyakutengagotoku]

GS4 vs AJ:AA - Episode 2, Part 5

Here’s the last court segment of this episode! It’s also relatively shorter than the usual posts, but there’s a lot of dialogue I captured for context, so it doesn’t look shorter. There’s not too much deviation between the source and localized after we covered all the changes made to the Kitaki’s previously.

For once I started earlier today and got through it pretty quickly, but for the sake of a consistent posting schedule, I’ll stick with around midnight PST every other day or so. Seems like the best rhythm for me that I can keep up with.

--

> Court Lobby

６月１７日　午前　９時５２分 地方裁判所　被告人第２控え室 June 17, 9:52 AM District Court Defendant Lobby No. 2

<Trucy> いよいよ、ですね！ ゆうべはよく眠れましたか？ This is it, the big day! Did you get any sleep?

<Apollo> あ。うん。ゆうべ、 １時にはフトンに入ったから。 Yeah, I went to bed at 1:00 AM or so.

<Trucy> で？　今日は何時に 起きたんですか？ Oh? What time did you wake up?

<Apollo> 午前３時、かな。 ...3:00 AM.

<Trucy> ‥‥ゼンゼン眠れてませんね。 That's only two hours, Apollo...

でも、大丈夫。 みぬきがついてるし。 But, at least you have me!

<Trucy> ボウシくんだって、 いつも見てますよ。 ...And the Amazing Mr. Hat!

<Mr. Hat> いつも見てますよ、キミ。 Here's looking at you, kid.

Originally: "Yes, I'm always keeping an eye on you." (It's supposed to sound supportive, I swear.)

>

<Trucy> ね。パパ！　今日は、どんな証人を 用意してるの？　ガリュー検事！ Daddy! Do you know who Prosecutor Gavin's witness is today?

<Phoenix> さあね。当ててごらん。 Take a guess!

<Trucy> んーとね。 小梅さんとか！ Hmm... How about Little Plum?

<Phoenix> あっはっはっ。キモっ玉かあさんか。 ハズレだよ。 Ah ha ha! That Sherman tank of a mom? Nope, guess again.

<Trucy> うーん、ザンネン。 でも。みぬき、思うな。 That's too bad. You know, speaking of moms...

パパも、早く新しいママ、 見つけないと！ You need to find me a new mommy one of these days, Daddy!

<Phoenix> お。コイツは朝からイッポン 取られちまったな。 It's barely morning and you're at it already, Trucy!

あっはっはっはっは。 Ah ha ha ha ha ha!

<Apollo> （だから、ウソっぽいんだよなあ、 　この親子） (OK, see, this is why I don't buy their "father-daughter" relationship.)

I commented previously that Apollo questioned their father-daughter relationship and legitimately forgot that he also says this, and this time it does match what he originally said. So, my bad.

Also, Naruhodou describes her as "キモっ玉" (kimottama), meaning she got "guts" or "pluck" to her. I appreciate the "Sherman tank", though.

> Courtroom

<Judge> 少なくとも、 ハッキリわかったことは‥‥ We did find out one thing for certain.

事件が起こったとき。 やはり公園には、被告人と被害者、 There were three people in the park at the time of the murder:

‥‥そして目撃者の３人しか いなかった、というコトです。 The witness, the victim, and the defendant.

<Klavier> ‥‥そういうコト。 そこで、今日は‥‥ ...Correct, Herr Judge. And today, I'd like to do something a little new age.

あのザンネンな事件を、 外側から見てみようと思ってるんだ。 I'd like to look at this horrible crime... from the outside.

<Apollo> “ソトガワ”‥‥ですか？ The "outside"...?

<Klavier> “凶器の入手経路”‥‥ “犯行準備”‥‥ The acquisition of the murder weapon... The preparation for the act...

被告人クン。ウカツにも ゼンブ、しゃべっていたんだよ。 Our poor defendant told all, you see.

‥‥フィアンセにね。 ...To his betrothed.

<Judge> ふぃあんせ‥‥？ His... bee trove?

<Klavier> ‥‥婚約者さ。 人生の共犯者ってヤツかな。 ...His fiancée, Herr Judge. His partner for life... with no chance for parole.

<Judge> それでは、その‥‥ いいなずけを入廷させてください！ Very well, you may show the erm... "lucky" lady to the stand.

Once again, the judge struggles with words outside of his language, and Kyouya, being the resident English expert, has to explain. That being said, "bee trove" is suspiciously apt as a metaphor to describe her...

>

<Klavier> ‥‥それじゃ、キミ。 名前と、職業を。 ...Your name and occupation, Fräulein.

<Alita> 並奈　美波と申します。 今は、花嫁修行中というか‥‥ Alita Tiala. My occupation... is future wife.

<Judge> ふむう‥‥ いいココロがけです。 Ah, traditional values! I respect that.

最近は、温泉タマゴすら作れない ムスメさんも多いですからな。 Too many brides these days can't even weave baskets blindfolded... underwater.

しかし‥‥今日は、検察側の 証人として出廷したわけですな？ Yet you're here today as a witness for the prosecution?

<Alita> わたし‥‥最初は、 証言したくありませんでした。 To be honest, I didn't want to testify at first.

でも、やっぱり。 かくしておくことはできなくて。 But... I couldn't hide the truth.

<Judge> ふむう‥‥やはり、 リッパなココロがけです。 Hmm. Honesty! Another admirable trait.

Originally, his "underwater blindfolded basket weaving" standards were about soft-boiling eggs so that the yolk hardens while the white remains soft. They're called "onsen tamago" because these eggs were traditionally cooked in a hot spring, but can be cooked in any ol' pot between 70-80°C (158-176°F). It's one of those old-timey signs that a soon-to-be-wed would be a good wife because she could cook. Now, the only time I'd ever see these eggs is when I don't boil them hotly enough.

On that note, nowadays there are underwater basket weaving Olympics. Thanks, Rio 2016. Maybe Tokyo 2020 (2021?) could include a special event category for egg-boiling.

> 1st Witness Testimony, press 3rd statement

<Alita> ちゃんと管理されてるから、 フツウの組員じゃムリだと思います。 Not really, I think. There's a system in place to limit access.

でもね。滝太クンはトクベツ。 なんたって。アトトリ息子ですから。 But Wocky's a special case, being the next-in-line.

<Klavier> 少し、甘やかされていたところは あったんじゃないかな。 Perhaps his treatment was a bit too special, ja?

<Alita> たしかに、“おぼっちゃん”な トコロはあったかもしれません。 Well, maybe he is a bit spoiled...

誕生日に、スゴいプレゼントを もらったって話もきいてるし。 I hear he got amazing presents for his birthdays.

ガムでできた“ドス”とか、 チョコレートの“花札”とか。 Last year was a switchblade made out of chewing gum and a chocolate gravestone!

<Apollo> （アブナイものが好きなのか、 　アマいものが好きなのか‥‥） (Sounds like he has a taste for sweets... and danger.)

Originally, they were a rubber dosu and a chocolate hanafuda card. Danger AND gambling, but the kid-friendly kind!

Though, I can accept "chewing-gum switchblade" here because "ガム" (gamu) can also mean that kind of gum or the gum material of rubber.

> Press 5th statement, present Alita, present chart or sandals

<Judge> ちょっと待ちなさい！ Ms. Tiala!

あなたは“被害者とはなんの 関係もない”と証言しています！ You testified that you had no connection to the victim!

<Alita> なんの関係もないわよ。 ‥‥今となっては、もう。 And I don't. Now.

<Apollo> 今となっては‥‥？ "Now"...?

<Alita> だって。半年前に、やめたんだから。 もう、無関係でしょ。 I quit half a year ago, didn't I? So there's no connection.

‥‥アナタたち、もしかして。 Let me guess, you're the kind of guy...

コイビトのムカシのコト、ぜんぶ 聞かないと気がすまないタイプの、 ...who can't rest until he knows every last detail of his girlfriend's past.

ちっぽけなオトコ、なのかしら？ Am I right?

<Judge> そんなコトはないですぞ！ 私は、その。 Th-That's not true at all! Why, I...

愛しいヒトの、ちょっとした過去も まとめて抱きしめるタイプの、イキ I embrace the ones I love, past flaws and all, no matte--

<Objection!>

<Apollo> “今はもう”無関係‥‥ それは、通らないんですよ。 "There's no connection now" doesn't fly in a court of law.

<Alita> ‥‥どういうこと、かしら？ Doesn't... fly?

<Apollo> （さすが、キモっ玉が座っている） (She's one tough nut.)

（キタキツネ一家にヨメ入りしよう 　とするだけのコトはあるな） (She probably feels right at home with the Kitakis!)

Fyi, the judge responded here because she called them all out, not just the defense.

And yep, here it is again: "キモっ玉". So, a Sherman-tank mom and a tough-nut fiancée; no wonder she fits right in. (I still think "bee trove" is more apt, though.)

> Present more evidence to tie her in but present wrongly

<Judge> ‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥ そうですね。私としては ... Well, I suppose I could see--

<Objection!>

<Klavier> おデコくん。キミのたぐっている 糸は、真実につながってない‥‥ Herr Forehead. This trail you think you have found, it doesn't lead to the truth.

ついでに、キミの弁護士生命も 断ち切ってあげようか？ Nor to a long career in the legal profession, ja?

<Apollo> け、けっこうです。 Gee, thanks.

<Klavier> じゃあ、かわりに。 いつものヤツ、やらせてくれるかな。 Perhaps you will allow me to do the honors?

<Judge> ふむう‥‥ まあ。たまには、よいでしょう。 Hmm... Why not? It might be nice for a change.

<Klavier> ‥‥それじゃ。遠慮なく。 Ｌｅｔ’ｓ　Ｒｏｃｋ！ Most excellent... Let's rock!

<Apollo> （なんだか‥‥ 　いつもの何倍もクヤシイ） (I'll take the usual penalty next time, thanks.)

<Judge> それでは、弁護人！　もう一度 提示していただきましょう。 Very well, Mr. Justice. Try again.

Look, guys, the JP script does have English letters and it has them for a good reason. Kudos to the loc team for that most excellent reference too.

> 2nd Witness Testimony, present medical chart at 4th statement, Perceive at new (6th) statement, present wrong evidence about the "threat"

<Alita> ‥‥その証拠品が、どうかした？ ...Because of what?

<Apollo> え‥‥ Um...

<Alita> アナタ。目はいいかもしれないケド。 アタマはクモの巣が張ってるみたい。 The eyes of a hawk... and the brain of a toad.

<Apollo> （‥‥ここで引っこむ 　ワケにはいかない！） (Ribbit! I mean, ack! I can't lose this now!)

（アタマのクモの巣を払え！ 　もう一度だッ！） (C'mon toad brain, one more try!)

Originally, the metaphor was "brain full of cobwebs". So Odoroki tries dusting his attic.

> Press newer (7th) statement

<Apollo> その証言の“ウソ”は、さっき 見抜いたじゃないですか！ We already know you're lying about having no reason!

<Alita> わかってるわよ！ エラそうに言わないで！ I know you know! Don't look at me like that!

<Apollo> え‥‥‥ Huh...?

<Alita> ヒトをトンでもない目つきで ニラんでくれちゃってさ。 Like I'm some two-bit washed up good-for-nothing...

コワかったじゃないの！ You scared me!

<Klavier> ‥‥たしかにね。 ...I concur.

ぼくですら、そこまでアツい目で 見つめられたことはないよ。 Even I am rarely treated to such a... hot gaze.

<Apollo> す。すみません‥‥ S-Sorry...

（‥‥そうとうスゴいカオを 　さらしているらしいな、オレ） (Maybe I need to do some face training, too...)

"Hot gaze"... Yeah, sounds about right.

Last line was simply: "(...I guess I made quite the face at her.)"

> Present bullet in safe

<Judge> まさか！　それでは、その財産を 狙って、その。婚約をしたと‥‥ Nefarious! So she planned to marry him just to get her hands on this fortune?

<Objection!>

<Wocky> イイカゲンなコトを 言い散らかしやがってェ‥‥ You keep talking trash about my Alita...

訴えてやるぞッ！ このクサレ弁護士がァッ！ ...and I'll sue you, lawyer-man!

<Apollo> ‥‥えッ！　お、オレですか！ ...Huh? Me!?

<Wocky> アンタ、今、言ったな‥‥ Yeah! You said...

オレのみなみちゃんに‥‥ オレのみなみちゃんに‥‥ You said you'd... You'd...

コクハクするとッ！ You'd abuse my Alita!

<Apollo> いやいやいや！ “コクハツ”ですよッ！ Um, I think you mean "accuse"...!

<Wocky> おんなじコトだッ！ みなみちゃんはわたさんぞッ！ Same difference! Well you can't have her! She's mine!

It was "kokuhaku" (confess, usu. love to someone) vs "kokuhatsu" (accuse).

>

<Alita> ‥‥滝太クンさあ。 ...Wocky.

イイカゲン、 現実と向かい合いなさいって。 Wake up and smell reality!

<Wocky> み‥‥ミナミちゃん‥‥？ A... Alita-baby?

<Alita> カルテのサイン‥‥ 退院を待って、婚約‥‥ The signature on the chart, the engagement...

わかるでしょ？　フツー。 I mean, come on! It's so obvious.

いくら、頭のカラッポな お坊ちゃんでも。 Even for a brainless, spoiled brat such as yourself.

<Wocky> みなみちゃん‥‥ Alita...

<Klavier> どうやら‥‥ホンネが 聞けそうだね。おじょうさん。 Your honesty is like a breath of foul air, Fräulein.

<Alita> まあ‥‥このぶんじゃ、ね。 無傷じゃア、済みそうもないし。 Hey, I wasn't getting out of this clean, anyway.

I think I'd prefer if Klavier here used a sound-based metaphor given how his entire character design is based on music. In the JP, he also used a sound metaphor: "It seems... we now hear your true voice, young lady."

Granted, "honne" also just means "true nature", but I like the hidden pun there.

> 3rd Witness Testimony, press 5th statement, point out "another place", point anywhere within the area of attention (double penalty)

<Apollo> 犯人が被害者を撃ったのは、 このポイントです！ This is where the killer shot from!

<Judge> そこから、被害者の右のコメカミが 撃てないのは、立証済みです。 But then the killer couldn't have shot his right temple.

<Klavier> ボケるには早すぎるよ。 おジイさんじゃないんだから。 So young, and already senile. How unfortunate...

<Judge> 私はボケておりませんぞ！ I'll have you know I'm not senile!

事件が起こった日の朝、何を 食べたか、ハッキリと‥‥ Why I remember exactly what I ate the morning of the crime!

‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥ ..............................

<Judge> とにかくッ！　 ペナルティを与えます！ Ahem! Penalty!

<Apollo> （‥‥ズルいや） (...No fair.)

<Klavier> それじゃあ。 もう一度指摘してもらおうかな。 You seem intent on digging your own grave. Here, have a shovel and try again.

Odoroki suddenly dropping in Kansai accent out of the blue caught me off-guard. (It's his last line here.) Man was so devastated by that double penalty he got sent out west.

10/21/20 edit: Whoops, my bad. That wasn’t Kansai accent and wouldn’t have made sense if it was. He’s just sighing to himself, really, and I mistook that last ‘ya’ as a copula.

> Point to noodle stand, present slippers & bowls

<Judge> わかっていると思いますが。 現在、この法廷で‥‥ I would like to remind the witness of her current status.

あなたを完全な“潔白”と 考えている人間は、おりません。 This court does not consider you entirely innocent.

<Alita> ‥‥完全にまっ白な人間は おとぎ話の中に住んでるものよ。 Show me an innocent... I'll show you a fairy tale.

<Judge> ‥‥とにかく。 ...In any case.

いつのまにか、弁護側は 提示してしまったようです。 The defense has, somehow, made its point.

この証人に、宇狩院長を殺害する 動機とチャンスがあったことを。 The witness had both a motive and an opportunity to kill Dr. Meraktis.

<Alita> そんな不条理な“逆転”‥‥ おとぎ話でもお目にかかれないわね。 More fairy tales! This whole trial is a fairy tale!

<Judge> 最後に、一度だけ。 あなたに説明のチャンスを与えます。 Then please, pull us back down to reality, Ms. Tiala.

証言をおねがいしましょう。 I'm giving you one last chance to explain yourself.

Her last line here: "An absurd 'turnabout' like that... wouldn't even be seen in fairy tales!"

> 4th Witness Testimony, Perceive at 5th statement, point wrongly

<Apollo> 美波さん。‥‥そこだッ！ ...Gotcha, Ms. Tiala!!!

<Alita> 聞こえてるわよ。 大きな声で２回も言わなくても。 I heard you just fine the first time.

なに？　ゴキブリでも出たの？ What, I wasn't aware we were playing paintball.

<Apollo> ‥‥‥‥‥‥‥‥ ......

<Trucy> きわめて冷静ですね。 ‥‥みなみさん。 She's one cool cucumber, that Alita.

<Apollo> （‥‥どうやら、 　ややハズしたみたいだな） (...Hmm. Maybe I spotted the wrong spot.)

Originally, she suggested "Cockroach", which iirc is a playground game with a mix of "Hide'n'Seek" and "Tag". For some reason, I'm struggling to find a source online for this, but I swear I remember looking it up before...

10/21/20 edit: Welp, I guess I was overthinking it. She just asks him if he spotted something icky like a cockroach.

> Point correctly, present lamp

<Judge> それでは！　この証人に対する 尋問を終了いたします！ Very well! This finishes the cross-examination of this...

<Objection!>

<Klavier> クッ‥‥クックックッ‥‥ Heh. Heh heh heh.

何を言ってるのかな‥‥ アツいギグは、これからなのに。 Not so fast. This party's just getting started!

Ｌｅｔ’ｓ　ｒｏｃｋ， ｇｕｙｓ！ Now, we rock!

<Apollo> ど。どういうコトですかッ！ W-What!?

<Klavier> やはり‥‥ 弁護士というのは、ツメがアマい。 Those spikes on your head are softer than they look...

なぜ、最後までジジツを 追求しようとしないんだい？ Or do you not have the stomach to go all the way?

...Come on, loc team, you had one job and you were doing so well with it up to here. At least dress up that "Now, we rock!" a bit with some German or Eurorock flair.

> Present bowls in clinic again or noodle stand, point out the river

<Apollo> そ。そうか‥‥！ Th-That's right...!

事件の起こった、あの晩。 成歩堂さんをハネ飛ばしたのは‥‥ That night, the car that hit Mr. Wright...

宇狩　輝夫のクルマ、だった‥‥ ...was that green sports car!

<Judge> な‥‥なんですと！ Oh, yes! I-I'd nearly forgotten about it!

<Klavier> その後、ガレージに戻ったのだから、 クルマには、故障はなかったんだ。 Afterward, he drove it back to that garage. It ran fine.

<Alita> ‥‥そのとおり。 それなのに‥‥ ...That's right.

その、自慢のクルマを 使わないハズがないでしょ？ So why didn't he use his beloved sports car, hmm?

<Apollo> ぐ‥‥ッ！ Urk...!

<Klavier> このムジュンが、キレイに 説明できないかぎり‥‥ A glaring contradiction, to be sure.

きみのスイリは成立しないのさ。 ‥‥おデコくん！ More glaring than your forehead.

<Apollo> そ‥‥‥そんなあああああああッ！ No... Nooooooooooo!

The first time I played this part, I found it a lot funnier than I should have because I thought Apollo was screaming about how his forehead was so "glaring".

That's it. I just wanted to share. The JP lines are just the usual "With that contradiction gone, your conjecture won't stand... Odeko-kun!"

> Select "He couldn't use the car", present Magic Panties

<Apollo> そして、オレはきのう。そのときは 気がつかなかったケド‥‥ By the way, I learned something yesterday...

ものすごく重要な“情報”を 聞いていたんです。 ...A very important piece of information.

‥‥そう！ 牙琉検事。あなたからね！ ...And I learned it from you, Prosecutor Gavin!

<Trucy> あの！　捜査ですか？ Um, so you were here investigating?

<Klavier> まあね。帰ろうと思ったんだが‥‥ バイクがイカれちゃってね。 And I was on my way home... when my hog gave up the ghost.

<Apollo> バイクが‥‥？ Your hog...?

<Klavier> エンジンがかからないんだ。 排気パイプがつまっちゃって。 My motorcycle won't start. A clogged exhaust pipe...

<Trucy> へえ！ 高そうなオートバイなのに、 Too bad! It looks like such a nice bike, too.

そんなコトで こわれちゃうんですか？ Hard to believe that it could break just from that!

<Klavier> クルマもバイクもいっしょさ。 どんな理由であれ‥‥ Cars, motorbikes, they're all the same.

排気パイプをふさがれると、 エンジンがかからなくなる。 Clog the exhaust, and they won't run.

<Alita> エンジンが‥‥かからない‥‥ My, how interesting.

"My, how interesting", indeed. It sounds so out of place that I wonder if this was supposed to be a temporary line that they decided to keep in the final draft. For reference, it was just "The engine... was clogged...!?"

> Court Lobby

同日　午後　４時１２分 地方裁判所　被告人第２控え室 June 17, 4:12 PM District Court Defendant Lobby No. 2

<Trucy> やりましたね！　オドロキさん！ おめでとうございます！ Great job, Apollo! You did it!

<Apollo> ああ、やったな！ ‥‥なんとか、ね。 Yeah, we did, somehow...

<Trucy> 滝太さんも、無罪になって‥‥ Wocky's off the hook...

キレイな身体で極道の世界へ 羽ばたいていくんですねー。 ...free to become the gangster he's always wanted to be!

きっと、オドロキさんに カンシャして‥‥ And he has you to thank...

<???> テメエこのヤロウくそ弁護士がッ！ Hey! Attorney-man!

<Wocky> よくも！　よくもオレの！ よくもオレのミナミちゃんをッ！ You're gonna pay for what you did to my Alita, homes!

<Trucy> ‥‥まったく、カンシャ されてないみたいですね。 ...Or to blame, I guess.

<Wocky> テメエこのヤロウくそ弁護士がッ！ You give my Alita back!

返してくれよ！ オレのミナミちゃんをよおおおお！ Stupid pointy-head attorney with a death-wish!

Ahaha, the full list of punk swears. I wonder if the loc team had the choice to use even more colorful words here, what would they have come up with? I mean, sure, Wocky is super childish in a way, but he totes would be that one kid in CoD screaming expletives and something about Apollo's mom.

>

<???> コラッ！　滝太ッ！ Enough, Wocky!

<Apollo> あ！　常勝さん‥‥ Ah! Mr. Kitaki...

<BigWins> ‥‥滝太。いいかげんに、 目を覚ましたらどうなのだ。 ...It's high time you opened your eyes, Wocky.

<Wocky> テメエこのヤロウくそオヤジがッ！ What do you know, old man!

目を覚ますのは キサマの方だろうが！ I think it's 'bout time you opened yours!

極道のミチ踏みはずして、 カネ儲けに走りやがって！ Givin' up the life, tryin' to become some kinda businessman!

<BigWins> 滝太ッ！　オマエは なにもわかっとらんのだッ！ Don't talk about what you don't understand, Wocky!

<Trucy> ‥‥そのうち、つまみ出されますね。 この調子だと。 ...I'm afraid the guard is going to throw them both out.

<Apollo> めんどくさい親子だな、 マッタク。 ...If not in jail. Wouldn't that be a happy ending.

And then he'd throw the same kind of insults at his dad too, but with less about moms, I'd hope.

>

<BigWins> オマエをこんな目にあわせたのは、 極道という生き方のせいだ。 It was the gangster life that did this to you, Wocky.

‥‥オマエを助けたい。 キレイなカネで‥‥な。 ...I want to help you, and I want to do it clean.

わかってくれないか。 ‥‥滝太。 Please understand. Wocky...

<Wocky> オ、オヤジ‥‥ D-Dad...

ば。バカにしやがって‥‥ いつも‥‥いつも、こうだッ！ M-Man, I see how it is, old man! Always you looking out for... out for...

<Trucy> た。滝太さん‥‥？ Wocky...?

<Wocky> いいか、くそオヤジ！ オレだって。オレだってなあ！ Listen good, old man! One day... One day...

いつか、きっと！ キサマをケリオトしてやるんだ！ I'm gonna take you out! Then we'll see who's the O.G.!

どこの世界に逃げてもな！ クビを洗って待っておけッ！ You try to hide in your business suit, I'll find you!

テメエこのヤロウくそオヤジがッ！ Stupid ol' geezer!

<Trucy> あ！　‥‥滝太さん！ My! Wocky!

<BigWins> ‥‥コレでいいのです。 ...No, it's as it should be.

<Apollo> オヤジさん！ （その目で見つめないでほしいな） Mr. Kitaki! (I liked him more without the puppy dog eyes.)

...Wocky, ya big tsundere. I love this father-son relationship.

And it's contagious. Even Odoroki here is calling him "Oyaji-san" after all the times he was polite.

>

<BigWins> アンタたちに会えてよかった。 ‥‥ワシは、コトバがニガテです。 I'm glad... to have met you. I'm not so good with words...

やはり。プロに任せるものだね。 But I know a professional job when I see one. Thank you.

<Apollo> そ。そんな‥‥ Who? Me? I don't think...

<BigWins> ‥‥いつか‥‥ Someday...

新製品・《キタキツネもなか》を 持って、お礼にうかがうとしよう。 I'll bake you one of our latest... The Kitaki Lime Pie.

<Apollo> （‥‥お菓子屋さんにでも 　落ち着くつもりなのかな） (...He's opening a pie shop!?)

Not just a pie shop; all the sweets you could find, with their specialty "Kitakitsune Wafer"! Technically, it's monaka, which is a wafer cake usually filled with asuki bean jam. It's also among the things you can see in the credits (exclusive to the JP version, anyway) when we see this happy family again.

>

<Trucy> あ！　そうだ。 帰る前に、行かないと！ Oh, that's right! We have to go someplace first!

<Apollo> え？　‥‥どこに？ Huh? Where?

<Trucy> “報酬”ですよ！ ムギツラさんの！ Why, to claim our reward from Mr. Eldoon!

<Apollo> ‥‥ああ。しょっぱいラーメンか。 もう、屋台は戻ったのかな？ ...Ah, salty noodles. Right. He got his stand back already?

<Trucy> そのあとは、みぬきのステージも 見に来るんですからね！ Oh, and after that, you can come see my show!

ぼうしクンスペシャル。 みぬきからの“報酬”です！ With a special appearance by the Amazing Mr. Hat!

<Mr. Hat> じつはコレ、 めったにやりません。 Oh, it's special alright!

<Apollo> ‥‥だから、もういいよ。それ‥‥ Please... anything but him.

Originally the gentleman said: "It is going to be a rare sight, indeed."

--

Next up, the most infamous episode of this game for its unintentional earworm... Though honestly, I never really found it all that bad. That said, thank goodness SoJ had a skip button for certain scenes, even if I didn’t mind watching them over and over anyway.

[big-bad-ulf]

It’s All Fun and Games || Ulfric & Tasmyn

Timing: Sunday 28th of June Parties: @tasmyn-pearce, @big-bad-ulf Summary: Ulf and Taz go to the carnival. Strength is tested. Prizes are won. The mythical dog lion is found.  Warnings: None guys everything’s fine! 

Ulfric could hardly believe he had set foot on the carnival grounds again, but as he’d emerged through the ever-present fog and stepped across the threshold this time, he’d found the pressing desire to leave immediately that had come over him before wasn’t there. In fact, the flashing lights seemed less glaring and the screams of the patrons less grating than they had during his last visit, despite both his vision and hearing having sharpened since then with the waxing of the moon. A small part of that had to do with the fact he’d remembered to wear dark tinted glasses to help with the light problem, but he suspected the larger part of it had to do with the reason for this visit. Rather than attending out of obligation, like he had with Orobas, he was there this time by his own choice simply because he enjoyed Tasmyn’s company.

It had been so long since he’d gotten the chance to spend time with anyone for that reason that the occasion necessitated a special effort. Which was why he’d showered in an actual shower for the first time in weeks in preparation (though, he thought, in his own defense, when eyeballs had been trickling out of people's plumbing the mountain stream on his property had seemed the more hygienic option) and why he’d arrived early to purchase a greeting gift before he headed to their agreed-upon meeting spot. “It’s good to see you again, Tasmyn” He greeted her warmly when he got there, carrying a stick of cotton candy bigger than his head. “I must confess, I did already have to pay the carnival a visit, though purely for business reasons.” Or in the interest of the pack, anyway, which was close enough. “I used my familiarity with the venue to get you this though.” He offered the humongous confection cloud to her, almost in apology for not being able to enjoy this experience with her completely unspoiled, before adding as an explanation for its sheer volume, “The person at the stall insisted on giving me the ‘for two’ size when I said I’d be bringing it to someone else.”  

Tasmyn usually tried not to make friends when she moved to new places. She had no real intentions of staying in White Crest for long when she had first arrived, but between the fae presence and the constant strange occurrences, and well… the people, she’d come to enjoy living here in a very short amount of time. So what was supposed to be her first stop in America had turned into a place she wasn’t quite ready to leave. And while she didn’t really know the implications of it all just yet, Ulfric was a surprisingly big part of that desire to stay. Which is why she was so thrilled that he was willing to accompany her to the carnival. It had been ages since she had been to one. 

She was a little late to the meeting place they agreed on. Or maybe she was right on time? She couldn’t quite remember what they had agreed on. As Tasmyn saw Ulfric approaching, her eyes widened a bit - far more focused on the cotton candy in his hand than anything else. “Oh my goodness that thing is massive!” She exclaimed, a wide smile spreading across her face. Humans always did do the strangest things with food. “Oh, sorry. It’s really lovely to see you again too.” She said, turning her attention properly to Ulfric. “That’s okay! You can use your past visit to steer us away from things that aren’t worthwhile!” As she spoke, she reached over and pulled a clump of cotton candy from the stick, then began to eat it piece by piece. “Wow! This is fantastic. I’m glad the person gave you a ton of it.”

“It’s fine, that’s the response I was going for,” Ulfric laughed at Tasmyn’s reception towards the giant treat, surprised at how much his mood seemed to instantly improve in her presence. Maybe she wasn’t merely human after all, but some kind of… reverse empath? No, he was fairly certain such a thing didn’t exist, and it would’ve been foolish for him to hold out hope that she was more than human when she’d given him no concrete evidence to the contrary. Better to just enjoy this night for what it was instead of pondering what-ifs. Her request had him scratching his beard though, uncertain how to proceed, all of entertainment seemed worthwhile now if it meant prolonging their time together, but none of it had seemed so before. Well, except one thing, he remembered. “I never did find the dog lion. In fact, I’m beginning to think it’s just a myth they spread to lure people in here,” He informed her, caving to curiosity and trying some of the cotton candy himself. It was about as sugary as he expected, but he found himself liking it, nonetheless. For someone who was a natural carnivore, he had recently begun to develop an unexpected appreciation for sweet things. “But if you’re up for hunting a mythical creature,” Ulfric continued, carefully adhering to the human etiquette of swallowing his food before talking for her sake. “It might give us a chance to get to know each other better while we look for it?” 

Tasmyn laughed softly, remembering the dog-lion they had talked about earlier. “Well, I don’t know if I’d call a dog in a wig ‘mythical’, but should be a fun hunt regardless! Let’s do it.” Even having only been there for a few minutes, Tasmyn could already feel the energy and admittedly the chaos of the festivities pulsing through her. She could even catch the faintest reading of a fae, no multiple fae nearby. Unfortunately, she knew it wasn't Ulfric since she hadn’t sensed anything last time they were together. What a shame too- he’d be a great fae. After she grabbed another chunk of cotton candy, she started off in a random direction, not really sure where they would keep a dion? log? Dog-lion. “Get to know each other better, right, of course.” She echoed, trying to keep her enthusiastic tone despite the fact that the idea of opening up to someone else terrified her to her core. Especially when it was someone new and she didn’t know how they felt about fae, about spriggans. “So, uh, how long ago did you move to town?”

Ulfric immediately found himself regretting his suggestion as soon as he heard her question. His move and the events that had led him to it weren’t things he wanted to talk about, not if he couldn't be honest about it. Being inauthentic quickly became exhausting and he tended to say what he was thinking too quickly to be a very effective liar in person anyway. That was why he usually let his natural intimidation ward off curious humans and save him the trouble of having to deceive them, but she waited for his invitation to ask, so he’d try and give as honest an answer as he could. “Sixteen years ago, or thereabouts. I left Norway at 19 and traveled around Europe visiting a few family friends before I got my papers together to come in here. I’ve got a few —distant cousins in town,” the werewolf quickly caught himself before saying human cousins. “They assisted me in finding me my first job at a tattoo parlor.” He followed the trajectory in which Tasmyn took off until he spotted the familiar row of gaming stalls, remembering that the Museum of Monstrosities booth and other ‘attractions’ were supposed to be on the other side, a likely location for the elusive dog lion. “Let’s try this way,” He urged, gently grasping her elbow to steer her in that direction. “How about you? I don’t think I’ve ever asked what you do for work. It must be exciting if it took you all the way to Canada for—” At that moment, Ulfric was interrupted by an overeager hawker wearing what looked to be traditional ringleader garb. “Care to try the strength tester?” The young man waved a prop hammer in his face emphatically, gesturing towards an old-fashioned seeming game with a sign that read, ‘Find out what your strength is worth!’. “Prizes awaited only the most fortified among us,” the vendor continued, “And you look like a strong candidate, pun intended. It’s sure to impress your lady friend!” He looked between Ulfric and Tasmyn. Ulfric had only paused to avoid being hit with the flailing hammer, but the hawker’s insistence he replied, “I’m sure she’s impressed by much more worthwhile things,” meaning for that to be the end of it and resume his quest for the dog lion, but finding himself glancing over at her, unsure how she’d want to proceed. 

Almost immediately Tasmyn could sense that her question had struck a nerve. She normally tried to avoid questions that dug in too deeply to someone's past, so maybe that wasn’t the right thing to be asking. But he did say that he wanted them to get to know each other better. Isn’t this how humans did that? Maybe she was wrong. As they moved about the carnival, Tasmyn listened to his story about moving here, nodding along and shoving the sweet cotton candy into her mouth. When she felt his hand on her shoulder, she was surprised at the fact that she didn’t tense up or recoil like she usually did when people she didn’t know very well touched her. She didn’t have much time to think about why that was as Ulfric turned the questions back to her now. It was not an easy question to answer. She had been up in Canada selling some names to a contact she had. But that had nothing to do with her actual job at The Codfather. A human could twist words into half-truths and lie their way out of the situation, but she was not graced with such an option. “Well, I work at The Codfather as a hostess.” Taking a moment to choose the right words she wanted to use, “The Canada thing was more like … a favor. For an old friend. More like running an errand, really.” She was thankful that their conversation got cut off by one of the over-enthusiastic carnies. Ulfric was right, she really wasn’t the type to be impressed by brute strength, but when she caught his eye she saw a bit of an opportunity to put a full-stop to this Canada/job conversation. “I dunno, it might be fun!” She said, looking at the prizes in the booth, pointing over to a strange-looking green creature, noticing that none of the prizes resembled real animals, “Besides, that thing’s kinda cute.” She added, looking over to him with a shrug and a smile, leaving it up to him but tipping the scales slightly to change the conversation at the very least. 

Ulfric wanted to ask her more about the fish restaurant, find out if she could maybe point him towards a wholesaler who could give him a discount on herring. It had been so long since he had spare to pickle with multiple plagues that had sullied the town’s waterways. But the vendor was still staring at them with urgency, and she hadn’t given him the easy out he’d expected. “Oh, well, sure, In that case…” he stalled for a moment, but hadn’t he said the goal of this outing was to make her happy? If taking a moment to play this game would achieve that, then he wouldn’t turn down the simple request. “Alright I’ll give it a shot,” He relented, giving Tasmyn a small smile but fixing the vendor with a glare as he passed him and slipped him a dollar to play. “You’ll be needing this,” the young man tapped him on the shoulder, waving the hammer at him again. The werewolf took what he offered, barely putting any effort into his swing as he brought it down on the target. Nonetheless, the indicator on the strength meter whizzed to the top with a flurry of lights and clanging bells. “Congratulations, we have a winner!” the vendor called out to the crowd over a megaphone, and despite the ringing in his ears and the ridiculousness of the situation, Ulfric’s inner competitive streak was satisfied with the victor and he broke into a genuine grin. “Here you go!” He plucked the stuffed ‘animal’ Tasmyn had wanted from the display, and presented it to her triumphantly. “I suppose it is sort of charming, in an unconventional way,” he said of the large, oddly shaped creature. It also felt surprisingly heavy, like they sewed a few weights inside it to prevent patrons who lost from running away with it, but he didn’t mention that part. 

For a moment, Tasmyn felt a pang of guilt for encouraging Ulfric to participate in this game. Especially since it was becoming apparent that most of the vendors were fae. Traveling fae in a traveling carnival probably meant trouble of some sort. But this was just a silly game, even with Ulfric being human, or at the very least non-fae, a few moments playing the game then moving on couldn’t be much trouble. Could it? Before she could change her mind and suggest they move on, Ulfric had the hammer in his hands and was slamming it down on the machine with a sort of ease. Her face lit up when all the bells and lights began and she instinctively clapped. See?, she thought to herself, harmless. A feeling of happiness swelled over her when she saw him smile - there was a good chance that was the happiest she had seen him look. “Unconventional charm is the best kind there is!” She stated as she accepted the strange green stuffed creature from him. “Thank you for this.” Tasmyn looked up at him with a smile, then leaned in and wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug. She’d never known a stranger to be this kind to her for no real reason. “So… off to find this mystical dog now, huh?” she asked as she started to make her way in the direction they were headed before they got distracted by the game. 

Ulfric was caught off guard by the unexpected hug. Physical affection had been fairly common amongst his old pack, wolves were social creatures by nature after all, but since he’d been forced into exile he had gotten used to being isolated in all ways. The only other person who’d hugged him in years was Ari, and he couldn’t remember ever allowing a human to come in such close contact with him outside of a fight, but he had to admit it wasn’t unwelcome. “Don’t mention it,” He shrugged, pulling back and hoping Tasmyn would interpret any hesitation from him as just the awkwardness of having to maneuver around both the giant stuffed animal and half-eaten cotton candy to return her embrace. “Yes, I will not be discouraged in my search this time,” He agreed, taking after her. They passed the Museum of Monstrosities with its display of various pickled specimens in jars, some possibly supernatural others clearly pieces of mundane animals sewn together. Eventually, he spotted a podium, with an attendant standing on top of it dressed as a lion tamer, complete with plastic whip and next to him was a golden retriever in a messy blonde wig.

“There you are!” The werewolf climbed the podium to pet the dog, which nuzzled into his hand eagerly, recognizing the kinship between them. “Uh, Sir? If you want a photo with our lion it’ll cost you five bucks,” the attendant protested half-heartedly, clearly reluctant to start a conflict with a man of his stature and determination. Ulfric had to tamp down on a small growl before it escaped his throat. The kid was only doing his job, but the exploitation of noble creatures for profit was one of the worst aspects of humanity. Instead, he leaned down quickly, looked the golden retriever in the eyes and stated, “I will make sure these people don’t mistreat you,” vowing to himself that he’d return to check on it before the carnival left town. “My apologies, humans don’t deserve dogs,” He said to Tasmyn as he jumped back down from the platform, huffing a little from the exertion. Which might have struck him as strange except, he couldn’t really think about much else in the presence of such a spectacular beast. “Isn’t he magnificent though? Thank you for indulging me.” 

Tasmyn was mystified by everything she was passing by on their search for the lion/dog. There was just so much energy radiating off of everyone around her. She had spent a lot of her time over the past few decades alone, but not really isolated. She was used to feeling alone while surrounded by crowds of people, and while she had convinced herself a long time ago that she preferred it that way, being here and enjoying these festivities with someone else was truly refreshing. “By the way,” Tasmyn started as she less-than-gracefully finished eating the last bit of the sugary treat Ulfric had given her, “What is this called again?” After spending years both hating and fearing humans, it was nice to be near one who she felt some sort of security around. 

As they rounded a corner Tasmyn was so captivated by all the foods she was smelling that she almost didn’t realize Ulf run off towards the dog. It didn’t take her long to follow him over to the podium though, laughing heartily when she saw both how enthusiastic Ulfric was and how bewildered the attendant was. She was still smiling widely when he left the dog and came back over to her. However, she wasn’t too caught up in the moment to notice his phrasing. ‘Humans’ don’t deserve dogs. Was he … not human? That’d have to be a question for another day, perhaps. “Truly magnificent! I’m so glad we got to see him. He seemed to really like you, ya know humans say that if a dog likes you that means you're a good person.” 

“Do people say that?” Ulfric carefully used ‘people’ this time to counteract his earlier slip-up. Having to close the shop for the duration of the eyeball plague had left him sorely needing to brush up on his mundane conversational skills. “I don’t know how true that is,” he mulled over the statement. He’d always tried to follow the teachings of his pack elders and do what was right for his community, but he’d never really thought of himself as good, more as someone willing to make the hard decisions necessary to keep people better than he was safe. At times, he thought he was more shield than man… But now he’d remained silent for far too long after what was clearly just meant to be a polite compliment. “I’m glad I can at least do something good,” he shrugged and gave her a small smile, trying to dissolve the awkwardness. “Show you a good time.” At that, he stopped and turned back to her fully, suddenly unsure. “Are you having a good time?”

Tasmyn got a bit worried at his question, maybe they didn’t really say that? Maybe she just heard one human say it once and presumed it was a common saying? “That, uh, might just be an English saying.” She added, hoping that would cover her tracks. But his silence made her wary, maybe she had let too many weird things slip… maybe he was putting the pieces together. Finally, he spoke, and she relaxed slightly. His words made her blush ever so softly. She smiled softly and nodded, “I’m having a very good time so far. I got to eat a fluffy sweet candy, you won me this,” she continued, lifting the stuffed creature up a bit more prominently, “and you looked so happy when you got to see that dog! So a great time, really. Are you having a good time?” 

“Yes, surprisingly so,” Ulfric laughed as Tasmyn held up the odd stuffed creature again, before quickly adding, “not that I didn’t expect to…” in case she thought he meant he wasn’t expecting to have a good time with her. He had a wonderful time at their first meeting, even with the whole smoke monster debacle. The memory of it had been one of the few things to elicit a smile from him in the disastrous weeks that followed. “Good times have just been hard to come by lately.” He explained and then found himself asking without giving it too much thought, “Would you mind if I saw you again sometime now that you’re back in town? It would be nice to know I’ve got another good time waiting for me if I ever need it.” It was a small defiance of the natural cycles that guided his destiny, to try and line up another pleasant moment and keep it stashed away for a rainy day. But after weathering all the foul things the winds of fate had sent his way recently, he was willing to cop whatever punishment they’d dole out for the minor infraction if it meant he had something to look forward to. 

Tasmyn had been expecting to find a fae community in this new town, she had not been expecting to find such a sweet and lovely maybe-human though. Her smile widened and the soft flush on her cheeks reddened at his question. “I’m sorry you haven’t been having many good times recently… though admittedly I do know what that’s like.” For so much of her life, Tasmyn had needed to live from moment to moment. She rarely made plans because plans just make disappointments. However, here in the moment with him it felt foolish not to make plans. Save when she thought her husband was trying to kill them with a smoke monster - every moment spent talking with him and spending time had been the highlights of her time here in White Crest. “I’d love it if we could get to see each other again. The sooner the better in my book. You’re really my first… well, only friend in town. And I always seem to be smiling when we spend time together.” 

Her only friend. Ulfric could count the number of humans who genuinely considered him their friend on one hand, and all of them had ties to the mystical world in some way. He normally tried to keep a polite, civil distance from the rest of them as a species, partly because they just didn’t seem to get him and partly because his family would have objected. The former hadn’t proved a problem where Tasmyn was concerned so far, and the latter? Well, he’d finally made the long-overdue decision to stay and build his life in White Crest, hadn’t he? The half-finished cabin in the outskirts was a testament to that. Though his family’s approval still weighed heavily on his mind, earning his place back wasn’t his goal anymore, so it reasonably followed that he was no longer bound to follow their rules to the letter. “It’s a deal then. We’ll see each other soon,” He nodded, the affirmation a measured deliberate choice. There remained limits to how far this companionship could go, considering the danger both of them could be in if his true nature were revealed, but he didn’t see the harm in playing the part of this good man she thought he was, if it was bringing her joy as well. To that effect he added the caveat, “And as your friend, I give you permission to throw rocks at me again if I do anything to make you stop smiling.” 

Tasmyn grew up being told there was a hierarchy to the types of beings in the world. Spriggans, all other fae, witches, other supernatural beings, humans, then wardens dead last. But ever since she moved away from her village, she very quickly began to realize how untrue that all is. Spending time with Ulfric continued to prove that to her. He was kind, understanding, and gentle with her - things she used to think were impossible for humans. She laughed when he told her she could throw rocks at him. “I’ll keep that in mind. But I do seem to always be smiling when I’m talking with you.” She took a little look around, taking in the last few seconds of this evening. “Well, I look forward to seeing you again.” As she said that, she got on her tippie toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. When she returned her feet firmly to the ground, she looked up to him and smiled before pivoting and making her way towards the exit.

[ichigopanhpff]

BNHA Fic: Blink! Ch. 26

Read Ch. 25 | Masterlist

Hark, I live!!!!! While I’m not back full time, I still wanted to post this chapter. Per usual, this is spoiler territory if you don’t read the manga and this will definitely be in the next anime season of BNHA.

With Winter Break in full swing, the U.A. students occupied themselves with their own thing; this was the only time they’d be free before jumping into their internships in the new year. The elevator dinged at the far end of the room, with Bakugou emerging from it in workout gear. He followed the sound of a rhythmic thumping and saw someone in a sweatshirt with the hood pulled over their face giving it to a sandbag with their boxing gloves. Their audible huffing breaths synced with every punch. Ren had her wireless headphones on with music pumping through it loudly. She couldn’t hear the blond boy’s footsteps approaching.

She couldn’t believe what she did in Todoroki’s room.

When the hell did she get that ballsy?!

And why did she even say that?!

Suppressing her urge to groan, it only made her punch the bag harder with a louder grunt that sound more like a growl from her throat.

She’s made her bed; all she could do was lay in it.

Upon feeling the stiffness of the sandbag hitting something solid, she stopped with a confused gaze and peered over to the other side to see a familiar person staring at her with vermilion orbs. His mouth was moving but she heard nothing.

The pink-haired girl held her index finger up and proceeded to pause her music before taking one of her headphones out, immediately apologizing.

“I’ve been callin’ you for the past three minutes.” Bakugou crossed his arms and cocked his head. “Where’s the fire?”

“There’s no fire,” she panted out and proceeded to remove her gloves to grab her water bottle on the floor to drink out of.

“Doesn’t look like it to me, seeing how hard you were goin’ at the bag.”

“Maybe I just felt like punching something really hard. Ever thought about that?” Ren replied with bite and wiped her mouth of excess water and sweat with her sleeve.

Setting the bottle back down, she removed her hood, revealing a sticky, sweaty mat of rose gold locks stuck to her cheeks and forehead. Her face scrunched up with a look of disgust while peeling her locks from her face by clumsily combing her bandaged hands through.

“You look like a drowned rat,” Bakugou snickered watching her.

“This is me on a good day,” she deadpanned and rolled her eyes. “You here to work out or flap your gums?”

“What, I can’t make civil conversation with an upperclassman?” he arrogantly retorted. “We will be at the same internship in a few days.”

Oh, damn. The internship with Endeavor’s agency.

Her, Bakugou, Midoriya and Todoroki.

What if his feelings changed after thinking them through? What if she’s misinterpreting this again like she did with Mirio-senpai’s after the fact?

It was then she mentally yelled at herself for always only thinking things through halfway. The confused boy looked at Ren as her face contorted into an annoyed expression.

“What, my company bugs you that much?” Bakugou questioned with a hint of contempt.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she quickly snipped and sighed. “Sorry. There’s just… an extremely annoying thought I’m trying to rid myself of.” The girl pursed her lips and let out a hard breath through her nose.

“Listen, I’m not the kinda guy to do this kinda shit, but y’know...” He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably before continuing. “I’ll listen… to your crap… n’ stuff. If you wanna talk,” he muttered and shoved his hands into his sweat pockets.

Ren’s eyes widened with surprise for a moment and slowly softened them with a small smile.

“And here I thought that mouth can only spew out snark,” she teased with a smirk.

He audibly scoffed and turned away, embarrassed having even thrown out that suggestion. The blond boy then felt a tap on his exposed bicep; it was from Ren’s bandaged fist making contact.

“Thanks though,” she said with a lopsided smirk and gathered her belongings before leaving. “I’ll keep that in mind. Have fun working out.”

Ren made her way to the showers to wash away all the sweat she exuded. She changed up her usual workout routine to train for a new fighting style for close range combat. Having Bakugou and Todoroki as her training partners, she’d been making adjustments to her movements to improve the speed of her takedowns. Upper body strength had long been an issue for her, having focused most of them on her legs due to her quirk. Hence, the sandbag coming into play.

Stretching out her arms to the point where she was comfortable, she quickly changed to head over to the 2-A dorms to hang out with Seri and Tomoe before their internships took them away from each other. Seri was going to intern with Mirko, whereas Tomoe was going to be with Edgeshot.

The meeting point was always Tomoe’s room; it was warm, homey and comfortable like a burrow. The two joked her porcupine quirk may have been the influence. Settling in from the wintry cold, Tomoe handed her a cup of freshly made green tea, to which she gratefully accepted.

“So did you talk to Todoroki-kun?” Seri asked and threw a chocolate mushroom biscuit into her mouth.

“So I may have kinda, sorta did a thing that I didn’t quite think through...” Ren spoke quickly in one breath and rubbed her left earlobe.

“Again?” the two simultaneously blurted out with exasperation with quirked eyebrows; she could only flatten her lips into a thin line and glared.

“Y’know, I’m feeling very attacked and sense major hostility right now,” she defensively huffed and crossed her arms. “I dunno if I wanna talk anymore.”

“If you’d stop doing dumb ass things and actually thought your actions through, you wouldn’t be here,” Tomoe harshly pointed out. “So what’d you do, kiss him?”

Ren avoided eye contact as she noisily slurped her tea. The tense silence broke with the collision of limbs on the floor.

“Please tell me it wasn’t on the lips,” Seri quickly said.

“… Cheek.”

“Revenge?” Tomoe asked.

“Something like that. We… halfway confessed to each other?”

“How do you halfway confess something?” Seri asked with a tone of confusion and threw arms hands up in frustration. “That’s like stitching two stories of different genres together without a cut scene for leeway.”

“I guess the fabled ‘unspoken mutual attraction’ does exist,” Tomoe noted and popped a chocolate treat into her mouth.

“I dunno… The timing felt right, I guess,” she shrugged. “We basically decided to figure out our stuff first and talk again when we’re ready to.”

“Wait...” Tomoe paused. “Isn’t your internship with him and his dad?”

“Don’t remind me,” Ren groaned and cupped her forehead into her hand.

“I mean, you already met his mom. Guess it was ‘bout time for his dad,” Seri reasoned half-jokingly.

“Why are you making it sound like I’m meeting the in-laws?”

“Because you put yourself in situations like these that make us think otherwise.”

“You’re not gonna let your feelings get in the way of your internship, right?” Tomoe asked in half-seriousness.

“Of course not!” Ren strongly exclaimed. “It’s all business when I suit up.”

“Just wanna make sure.”

–

Given the strict rules since the U.A. dorms had been implemented, the faculty allowed students to go home for New Year’s Eve to spend with their family with a pro hero escort. Ren was welcomed home with the aromas of her mom’s cooking that immediately signaled her stomach to growl out loud. The annual Kohaku* was playing on TV in the background while Ren spaced out by staring out the living room window, admiring the calm night as she sipped her hot chocolate. Living in the dorms was nice, but there was no replacing the comforts of home.

Her phone chimed to life with a notification on the coffee table to grab her attention back. Setting her mug down gently, she grabbed the device with her hand and immediately grinned.

It was a New Year message from Melissa. As she scanned through the email, several notifications popped off from her group chat with Tomoe and Seri. The poor owl girl was bored to death at home and hid herself away in her room while her parents entertained pompous people at their party. Ren sent an animated emoji of a random panda playing the world’s smallest violin, to which she replied with an Aggretsuko fiery rage screaming one. After a few more exchanges, Seri decided to “show face” for a few more minutes for her parents’ sake.

After dinner, she and her mom watched Downtown’s Annual No Laughing New Year’s special**, a tradition in the Takahiro household. There was nothing like welcoming the new year with laughter by seeing old geezers get their butts slapped in as punishment for laughing at dumb gags done by guest celebrity assassins and themselves. As midnight got closer, Ren started to slowly drift away to sleep; her mom, however, gave up an hour ago and turned in for the night. Had her phone not chirped from several message notifications, she would’ve ended up face planting right on the hard part of the sofa.

She unlocked her screen to see several New Year greetings from Class 1-A, with photo attachments of what they’re watching, eating and doing. Ren promptly replied her message and took a photo of her legs propped up on the coffee table with the TV screen of Matsumoto mid-slap in the background. The moment she set her phone back down, the mobile device chirped to life again.

Her eyes grew wide in surprise.

It was from Todoroki.

She opened up the message reading, “Happy New Year, Ren-senpai. I’ll be in your care again this year. Will you be on the same bus as us tomorrow?”

“His writing’s so formal,” she remarked to herself in astonishment.

She typed out her response to let him know she’ll be riding with her class and already asked ahead of time to be dropped off in front of Endeavor’s office. Before hitting send, she thanked him again for getting her a spot with his dad’s agency.

Todoroki simply answered, “You’re welcome. I look forward to interning and spending more time together.”

How like him.

She couldn’t help but grin ear to ear like a shy schoolgirl, staring at the message. For a moment, she thought to herself maybe this internship will help both of them figure out just what their feelings were for each other after all.

Victoria practically had to shake Ren awake or she’d end up missing her ride. Hastily washing up and changing into her school uniform, her mom presented her with a new red infinity scarf.

“Since you told me you gave yours away to a little kid, I figured I take my needles out and make you one,” the elder Takahiro presented with a beaming grin.

“Thanks mom.” She looked down at the soft accessory with a wide smile and put it on, feeling the maternal warmth envelop her. Was this how Eri felt when she accepted her gift? Ren gave her mom a tight hug before grabbing her belongings to head out.

“Be safe out there, okay?”

“Three of the strongest students from 1-A will be with me along with the number one hero,” she spoke into her mom’s shoulder. “I think I’ll be fine.”

Pulling away from the hug, she gave her mom a peck on the cheek before putting the shoes on.

“Love you, mom. Stay warm!”

Making her way out of her building, the gentle wintry winds of the New Year softly greeted her as she walked to the school shuttle bus waiting at the entrance. Several students from her class were already on it and exchanged new year greetings with one another. Once the bus picked up the last student, they started dropping each one off at their respective internships.

“Kick some butt, Ren-Ren,” Tomoe encouraged.

“Don’t get set on fire now,” Seri teased.

“Try not to hunt the pro hero, Seri,” Ren teased back before exiting the bus with her hero costume and bag in tow. She changed into her costume’s boots on the bus before getting off; they were much warmer to wear than her sneakers. Glancing around, she walked for a bit until she saw the back of three familiar heads. As if sensing her presence, they turned at the same time and did their New Years greetings exchange.

“You made a new scarf?” Todoroki noticed the new accessory adorning her neck.

“A gift from Mama Takahiro,” she beamed happily with pink cheeks and snuggled it into the bottom half of her face. “It’s so warm. I love it.”

“We gonna stand here all day or what?” Bakugou nonchalantly replied and turned around.

“So randomish question...” their upperclassman began. “What are your hero names? I already know Mido-kun’s...”

“Bakugou.”

“Shouto.”

Ren emitted a strange noise from her throat and stopped in her steps.

“Really? That’s what you wanna convey to society?” she flat out said.

“Well, all of my other ideas got rejected, okay?” Bakugou replied defensively.

“What was your reasoning behind using ‘Blink’ then, senpai?” Todoroki asked out of curiosity.

“I want people to think I’ll be there quickly to help,” she firmly stated.

“That’s… actually really good,” Midoriya commended and placed his hand on his chin. “Gives off reassurance, timeliness and trust.”

“When choosing your name, you should think about not only the hero you see yourself as, but how others see you. It’s very superficial, but that’s how society is, sadly. You’ve seen it all over the news with the opinion polls lately,” she lectured. “Also, using something that personal is really high risk. Think of how many people in Japan have your last name, Bakkun; and how many people have your first, Todo-kun. Anyone with a brain can look up your family registry online and do face matching.”

The tall blond boy stood stationary, reflecting on her advice and Best Jeanist’s when he was interning at his agency. He was the type to think things out clearly; never once did he consider using his surname would put his parents in harm’s way.

“Anyway, if you need some help, I’ll be more than happy to brainstorm some ideas over with you two,” she encouraged with a small smile.

The group walked on making small conversation about what they did during their New Years. Getting closer to the entrance of the agency, the group saw a tall and intimidating looking man with spiky red hair with a scar covering the majority of the left side of his face. His piercing turquoise blue eyes looked like he was staring into their souls.

“Welcome to Endeavor Agency,” the tall muscular man greeted with a smile that soon morphed into a scowl. “Was that the kinda welcome you were expecting? I’m in no mood for that.”

Endeavor scanned the four students and suddenly focused on Ren for some reason. Her hazel-green eyes stared straight into his, trying her best not to give into his overwhelming presence. Her hand gripped the handle of her costume case tightly. His gaze then broke from hers and went back to the three boys.

This was the man responsible for all of his son’s loneliness and self-loathing. Part of her wanted to punch his lights out, but the other half of her wanted to see the change in him Todoroki mentioned.

If this is what it’ll take to be a strong hero, she’ll exercise restraint.

“I reluctantly gave permission for this only because Shouto asked,” he harshly deemed. “Even though I wanted him to come alone.”

“But you did give permission, so quit complaining,” the younger Torodoki shot back harshly.

“Sh-Shouto!”

Bakugou, Midoriya and Ren looked on quietly, not wanting any part of the small family squabble.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about this since the licensing classes...” Bakugou began. “This guy’s a jerk.”

“Shouto!” Endeavor scolded. “Are you actually friends with this boy?!”

“But if this means I get to watch the top hero at work, I’ll put up with it,” the blond boy casually finished.

“I thought I told you to choose your friends carefully!” the Todoroki patriarch directed his scowl at his son, with the other party unfazed with his yelling.

“Thank you for accepting us,” Midoriya strongly greeted. Endeavor’s gaze fell on the small viridian hair colored boy with a neutral gaze. “We’re here to learn, sir!”

The tall man turned on he heels of his shoes and started walking, with the heroes in training following suit.

“’Shouto’s not me...’” Endeavor muttered out within an earshot. “That’s what you said to me.”

“Huh?” Midoriya responded in confusion.

In the blink of an eye, the four saw the tall and muscular man jump over the pedestrian guard rail to rush over to a growing commotion. The flames on his face quickly emerged and firmly declared, “Sorry to burst your bubbles, but Shouto’s the only one I want to train. You wanna learn? Stand back and watch!”

As his eyes darted back, he was shocked to see all four students jump into the fray with him with partial pieces of their costumes already equipped. Bakugou slapped on his right grenade gauntlet and tossed his case behind him with Deku slipping on his right glove. Shouto used his ice quirk to up his mobility, still holding onto his case. Blink managed to put her mask on and activated her T-batons.

“Tell us what we can do!”

“I told you to stand back!” the flame hero reiterated. “And watch!”

Endeavor blasted off at full speed, easily leaving the interns behind.

“Stay behind me and watch?!” Shouto growled out in annoyance.

“We won’t be able to if we can’t keep up with him!” Deku shouted.

The four continued to chase after the moving fireball to the best of their abilities; even Blink was struggling and shocked at how fast he was given his muscular stature.

“Guys!” she shouted and stopped in her steps and caught her breath. The three gradually followed suit and looked back at her in confusion as she kept on staring at Endeavor’s shrinking form.

“What are you doin’?!” Bakugou yelled impatiently.

“Grab onto me.”

The three boys hastily made their way over and placed their hand on her shoulders and left forearm.

“Hold on tight.”

The pink-haired girl exhaled a breath and disappeared from the sight of passerbyers and zipped down the path. While Todoroki already knew how it felt teleporting with her, Bakugou and Deku were at a loss for words.

This feeling of moving at lightning speed while everything was in slow motion frames like a film reel confused their senses. It felt like their eyes were deceiving them as the world around them turned monochromatic. The floating weightlessness of their bodies were horrifying and exhilarating. In a matter of seconds, they closed in on the back of Endeavor who was about to follow the perpetrator through a narrow alleyway.

A sudden flash of light brought them back to real time, the four heard the Flaming Hero shout “Evacuate the area!” to another hero. Gathering their bearings and footing back on solid ground, the interns went around the other way, in hopes of meeting the pro hero halfway through to assist. Making their way down the block, they saw three hoodlums with pipes and knives at the ready to attack Endeavor. They made it just in time to intercept the underlings with their own quirks while Endeavor took care of the ring leader.

However, the fruits of their efforts in playing catch-up was short lived when familiar flying feathers headed at them and grabbed the bad guys instead.

“Oh! You guys must be the interns!” Hawks greeted mid-action as he swooped his way in.

“Hawks?!” Deku and Blink called out.

“Sorry! Looks like I was just one step faster!” the winged hero casually apologized.

“I thought Endeavor might have been in trouble, so here I am.”

“Did I look like I was?” Endeavor shot back, his attention still on the glass manipulating quirk user.

Hawks slowed his flight and eased himself back on the ground. He then casually walked up to the young Todoroki.

“He did, didn’t he Shouto?”

“Wha– Uh, sure,” the bi-coloured haired boy stuttered out in midst of the confusion.

“I told you to let me know ahead of time if you planned on coming here,” the Flame Hero reminded the heroic bird with a tone of annoyance.

“I just happened to be in the neighborhood, is all.”

“Hawks!”

Blink staggered up to him, ready to give him a piece of her mind, feeling the after effects of vertigo and exhaustion from over-teleporting.

“Oh, if it isn’t my favorite former intern,” he turned and greeted with a beaming grin.

“Don’t you use thatcharm on me, you air-headedchicken,” she shot back and pointed a wobbly warning finger and slurred, “And don’tleavemeon read! I’ve been tryingto contact you forweeks!”

Blink staggered back a few steps and held her forehead into her palm, huffing audible breaths to fight the nausea. Her vertigo was worse when she teleported with more than two people compared to overusing Flicker on herself.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized with a lighthearted chuckle, sensing how bad her side effect was this time based on the dilation of her pupils.

“That… was meant to sound threatening, by the way,” she enunciated her words to rid herself of her current lazy tongue.

“I figured.”

Hawks walked up to the pink-haired girl and placed his hand on top of her head, knowing how much she hated it. In a short beat, her senses came back to normal. All she could do was stand there and pout with puffed up cheeks.

Todoroki couldn’t help but notice how quickly her demeanor changed from before. She looked like a bashful schoolgirl in front of a crush. He felt a sudden tinge of pain and irritation form inside him; it was the same feeling he had when he saw Bakugou pick up Ren during the Christmas party.

“It’s just...” she let out a light sigh and muttered, “Since Best Jeanist’s disappearance, it’s hardnot to think of the worst when I didn’t hear from you.”

“I didn’t mean for you to worry,” he spoke gently at her with a matching smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “But I’m here now. I’m fine, you see?”

The police arrived moments later to apprehend the villains. The lackeys screamed, “We were only following orders from the Servant of the Stars!” as their defense, while the main villain was demanding to be released. The four interns removed their hero gear and placed it back into their cases.

“That man is the source of darkness!” the bearded villain screamed. “That light he emits shall summon the darkness! And our demise along with it!”

Despite the policemen ignoring the man’s insane pleas, the words seemed to have effected Endeavor. The three boys introduced themselves to Hawks while everything was being wrapped up.

“My name is Midoriya! Pleased to meet you, sir,” the green haired boy greeted.

“Oh, you’re that kid who blew up his own fingers,” Hawks mentioned. “I’ve heard all about you from Tsukuyomi. I wanted to work with you too but...”

“Oh, is Tokoyami continuing his internship with you?”

“He’s working with my sidekicks back in my neck of the woods,” he replied with a slight tone of regret. “I’ve just been so busy lately and… I actually kinda...”

Hawks glanced over at Bakugou cautiously, who was currently glaring daggers at him.

“Feel bad for him,” he finished his thought.

“Just so we’re clear,” Bakugou interrupted the rest of Midoriya’s conversation. “I got there faster than you back there.”

“Hm, I wonder,” Hawks taunted with a light chuckle.

Once the police drove away, Endeavor drew his attention back to the winged hero.

“And what business do you have with me, Hawks?!” he gruffly asked.

“It’s not ‘business’ exactly, but...” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled something out. “Have you read this book?”

The cover read “Paranormal Liberation Front.”

“Have you heard of it? These guys have really been growing lately and they’re garnering even more attention after that civilian resistance in Deika City!” he promoted. “It’s an old memorandum, but it really foresaw our current state of society pretty well! ‘If only a limited amount of people are allowed to live freely, the consequences will fall on those who weren’t granted that right’ or so it says.”

The five looked at Hawks in confusion. What was he going on about?

“If you don’t have a lot of time, just read the section I bookmarked, okay?”

Paranormal Liberation Front… Why did that title sound so familiar? Ren thought to herself. And why was Hawks so long-winded about it? Her eyes focused on him, trying to read between the lines of what he was trying to relay to the number one hero.

“Destro’s ideals are everything we wanted!” Hawks continued on. “A society where everyone can look out for themselves! It really does fit this age!”

“What are you talking about?” Endeavor asked just as confused as he was from before.

“If we can make that a reality, then we’ll have all the free time in the world, Endeavor!” he firmly stated in seriousness. The Flame Hero’s eyes grew wide, as if he remembered something and stared at him with dubious concern. Hawks’ usual happy-go-lucky expression soon turned solemn and placed the book into Endeavor’s hand.

“Make sure you give it a read, alright?”

“A recommended reading from the number two?!” Midoriya piped up excitedly. “Now I want to read it too! Maybe I’ll learn the secret to his speed...”

“I… don’t think that book has anything to do with his speed, Mido-kun,” Ren dismissed with a nervous look.

The flying hero swiftly turned around, with several books already in his hand, beaming, “You’ll be happy to know I brought extra copies then!”

“He’s so well prepared!” the green haired boy praised.

“Where did he even fit those books in his costume?!” his former intern incredulously let out, pointing to the lack of pockets on his jacket.

“This is the era of the number two!” Hawks threw the books at the four, with them all flawlessly catching them. “It’s not just raw speed; you need to be quick on the uptake! For that, you need the ability to predict what’s in store for the new era for us!”

“You must really love this book if you’re carrying that many...” the younger Todoroki commented.

“He must be doing missionary work!”

“Midoriya gets it,” Hawks confirmed with his usual smile. “I’m recommending this book to everyone I know across the country. At the very least, I truly believe the Liberation ideology will be society’s groundwork from here on out.”

While it seemed like an innocent gesture, the pink-haired girl was suspicious of her former mentor’s words. The things coming out of his mouth made no sense, compared to how he normally is.

Something wasn’t adding up. And it was bothering her.

Immediately sensing Ren’s unease, he felt a small onset of panic rise up in his gut. She was always the type to keep her wits about and this was no exception. He trained her to be this way, after all.

Would she say anything about it now?

No, she’s smarter than that.

If anything, he secretly hoped she can help Endeavor figure out his message if he couldn’t do it himself. The Flaming Hero didn’t strike him as the type of person to figure it out quickly, after all. His glowing brown eyes made contact with Endeavor’s again and reiterated, “Make sure you look over the sections I marked. I especially recommend ‘the second one.’”

Hawks took flight and encouraged all of them to make the most of the internship before disappearing into the sky.

“He’s not that much older than us, but he really has a whole different perspective on things...” Midoriya remarked with admiration, watching him fly away. “He’s only 22, you know.”

“Only six years apart, huh?” the bi-coloured haired boy said.

“Pisses me off...” Bakugou grumbled out.

Endeavor opened the book and casually thumbed through it and muttered, “Yes… indeed.”

*Full name of the show is “Kohaku Uta Gassen.” It’s an annual NYE show where the most popular musicians are separated into red and white teams based on viewer’s votes. Each team’s score are based on their performance, costume, hairstyle, lighting, choreography and makeup.

** The “Gaki no Tsukai” series is ran by the most famous comedians in Japan, Downtown (Matsumoto Hiroshi and Hamada Masatoshi), alongside Cocorico (Tanaka Naoki and Endo Shozo) and Tsukitei Hosei. Their annual NYE is a 24-hour no laughing marathon. You can check them out on Team Gaki.

[benisasoftboi]

Unorganised thoughts on Silver Snow:

When I finished Golden Deer, I said that it had felt like a more traditional Fire Emblem story than Blue Lions. Silver Snow is that but even more so (though GD is still the most trad-FE cast, IMO)

Having already played those two routes, it felt very much like a whirlwind tour of them both, plus another battle thrown in at the end - a battle that probably should have been harder, but I (completely accidentally) built the bulkiest Byleth imaginable, especially resistance wise, plus high magic - and so, by pairing high defensive stats with Nosferatu, I tanked every attack that came my way 

Gaming, for me, is just doing whatever the hell I feel like, stumbling into good results, and then pretending that I did it on purpose

I spent the whole battle with the Dragon Tales theme song stuck in my head. Kind of killed the mood

I really enjoyed that after wrapping up both the Edelgard and TWSITD plots, they basically Persona 4 you by trying to convince you that the whole game’s done now and all that’s left is to chat with everyone - though unlike in P4, there’s very obviously something left to do because they give you a whole month of prep time, rather than just one day

I felt the same way about this on Golden Deer - none of the characters are appropriately shocked by Rhea’s highly questionable actions 

Also - she says she’s going to explain the whole truth! And she doesn’t! Only the Byleth creation stuff! The other revelations from Golden Deer are missing! Rhea! Why! Are! You! Like! This!

This is actually a problem I have with this game as a whole - they want to keep certain lore and secrets exclusive to certain routes, but it results in every story feeling in some way incomplete. Like, Fates gets a lot of crap, but at least you did get a full story from your half (third? never played Revelation) a game for the price of a whole one. Blue Lions gets the worst of it, I think 

Plus, when you know some of said secrets, it makes characters who refuse to share them in other routes seem weirdly (and sometimes, contrivedly) cagey about things they really do not need to be cagey about. See: Claude refusing to tell Dimitri and Byleth in Azure Moon that he wants to End Racism, and instead vagueing about ‘achieving his dream’. This is not Edelgard wanting to conquer Fodlan and dismantle the entire social structure, Claude, your ideals really are not so controversial that you need to be this coy. Dimitri and I are cool, we getcha 

My one sentence review of the whole game is basically: Great characters, great world building, great gameplay - but really, really frustrating plot structure

I’m also really upset that Seteth does not have a dragon form

Speaking of Seteth, I married him this time around. I mostly decided to do it for laughs, but while Byleth/Dedue is still my number one Byleth pairing, I came to really, genuinely like them together. Seteth is one of my favs, now more than ever

It helps that romancing Seteth feels a lot less... creepy than romancing most of the students. I like Linhardt, but romancing him felt very weird to me because I couldn’t get over Byleth having first known him as a 16 year old under their care. Dedue, for the record, doesn’t elicit this response  because he doesn’t really feel as much like a student to me? Role-wise he feels a lot closer to the knights, and it’s just that he's been enrolled as a student for convenience’s sake, which makes him and Byleth feel more equal than they do with most of the other kids. Helps that he’s also on the older end

Anyway, Seteth and Byleth would be the nerdiest couple ever, is the impression I got from their ending. The confession scene made me laugh in how ‘oh we’ve got a lot of work to do - btw wanna get married? - sweet, now let’s get back to work’ it was. Mark Whitten is a gem

It’s also the the first time I felt like the game was actually shipping me with a main lord (Seteth taking that role in the absence of the box lords on this route). Haven’t done Crimson Flower yet, so no opinion on the Edelgard/Byleth relationship yet, but regarding Claude and Dimitri my (pretty damn controversial, possibly a bad idea to put out there) opinions on them with Byleth are that

Claude and Byleth are platonic bros, regardless of Byleth’s gender. I just don’t get any feeling of romance from their relationship at all, and so pairing them off feels weird (to me, personally - I don’t hate the ship or anything, though)

Meanwhile Dimitri 100% had a crush on his teacher at school, but after more than five years of enduring trauma after trauma, and then half a year of beginning to heal (whilst fighting a war culminating in the execution of his step-sister), Dimitri is nowhere near ready for a romantic relationship. And when he is, I wouldn’t want him with any of the main cast, Dimitri x Village Girl OTP. I guess if it has to be anyone, I’d be okay with Mercedes, maybe Marianne - hell, maybe even Claude - but really, I just want him to get a fresh start. I think that’s the healthiest option for him, in the end

I do think it’s a pairing that could work in an AU where Dimitri doesn’t have any of the experiences he has in canon, though 

And again, this is just my personal reading

I’ll also admit that I may be influenced by the fact that his two most popular pairings are with Byleth and Dedue, who I greatly prefer with each other. Mostly because I love Dedue with all my soul and his ending with Byleth is by far his happiest, in my eyes at least. It’s the only one where he puts some distance between himself and Dimitri and evens out the power balance in their relationship, which makes me happy because oh boy, the Dimitri/Dedue relationship is super interesting and compelling, but also (again, by my reading) all kinds of unhealthy as it’s presented for most of the game - power balance issues like I say, the fact that they tend to indulge, even encourage, each other’s worst instincts and behaviours, mutual guilt complexes - like I say, it’s fascinating, but damn screwed up. IMO, they’re one of the best examples I’ve seen of how unhealthy relationships aren’t always the result of one bad person, and how two good people can end up being very bad for each other

Though it is, again, a pairing I can see working (and actually being incredibly cute) in an AU where they’ve lived less horrible lives

And it’s not like I don’t want them to be friends, I just want them to also develop healthier boundaries and equal levels of respect

oh my god none of this has anything to do with silver snow what am I doing

But hey, speaking of Dimitri - I flip flopped on whether I thought his death was handled better or worse here than Golden Deer. It was given, I felt, more appropriate gravitas, but again suffered from ‘Dimitri’s dead! No, Dimitri’s alive! Oh wait, now he’s dead again’ in like, three successive scenes. And then you see his... ghost? I guess?

Dimitri really seems to get the short end of the stick on routes outside his own. Claude’s non-Deer roles were, in both cases I’ve played, much stronger and more fitting, and Edelgard is Edelgard

Maybe he’ll be good in Crimson Flower. Please. I miss Dimitri mattering. He’s probably my favourite of the three

There’s a point - obviously I don’t fully know Edelgard yet, but from what I got from the White Clouds section, above anything else she strikes me as an incredibly realistic depiction of a slightly edgy, extremely idealistic, but also highly naive and short-sighted teenager

Her whole goal, it seems, is meritocracy. She hates the crest system and the nobility, and she wants to create a system of equal opportunity. I can get behind that, but I really hope she’s prepared to accept the fact that true equal opportunity is basically impossible without recreating The Giver, as inequality is always more complex than one single factor being to blame for everything. Has Edelgard considered other limitations that make true meritocracy difficult to achieve? Has she been working on, say, a comprehensive benefits system? Or is she more of a libertarian type, and so primarily all about negative freedom and removing direct oppression? I hope Crimson Flower goes into detail on this, I’d be genuinely interested to know

I also find it interesting that she gets very angry about the fact that people hurt her and her family as a means to their own ends, so she decides that her own ends are to eliminate the system that lead to that happening - and she doesn’t care who she has to hurt in the process

This isn’t a CinemaSins *ding* plot hole observation, I genuinely think it’s interesting, and not actually that unrealistic

I also suppose her goal is no less naive than End All Racism By Being Nice To People, but Claude isn’t killing and persecuting people in attempt to achieve that, so it invites less scrutiny

I do wonder if I would have felt more strongly positively about her if she’d been my first playthrough. I do believe she’s a person that sincerely means well, and she’s certainly sympathetic, but - hmm. I’ll make my mind up when I finish CF

Anyway, paired endings. A few that I got include Raphael and Bernadetta (by far my favourite Bernie ending so far, seriously, what is that Caspar ending), Shamir and Leonie, which was cute and goofy (as Leonie’s endings tend to be, I notice, I do like that girl), Felix and Dorothea (not my favourite for either, but cute), Sylvain and Mercedes (the same but even cuter), Cyril and Petra (which felt wrong, partly because I love Cysithea a hell of a lot, and also because despite knowing there’s only about a year between them, Petra looks so much older pre-time skip), Ferdie and Marianne (super wholesome and sweet), and Linhardt and Caspar (my boyyyyssss that I refuse to ever separate again)

Not sure what I’m going to aim for on CF aside from keeping those boys together and also Ferdie/Hubert, as I’ve Heard Things

Flayn and Manuela have an A support so I figured they had a paired ending and it turns out they do not, which means Manuela was alone forever and Flayn ran away because apparently she hated having Byleth for a step mother I guess, rude

My Byleth (Myleth?) was prepared to be the best step mother in the history of the world, so offended

I realised ‘Javelins of Light’ is one of my absolute favourite tracks in the whole game. Mostly because it sounds like something out of Danganronpa, which made me nostalgic

I also like ‘Guardian of Starlight’ for somehow managing to sound like a Danganronpa/PMD: Explorers crossover track

I love how out of nowhere the Immaculate One fight is. It really does just feel like they needed something to distinguish the route from Verdant Wind outside of Claude not being around, so they just had a map that was less cool in every way except for the dragon

Is there an explanation for why Nemesis doesn’t show up on this route?

Also - I didn’t mention this in Golden Deer thoughts but I also found that final battle way, way easier than it was probably meant to be because I’d made everyone into a flier and so the floor damage hazard was meaningless

Which I totally did on purpose and not so I could make a stupid joke post about my all-wyvern team 

Anyway, in conclusion, Silver Snow was a good route, I enjoyed it more than I thought I would (I’d kind of thought it was just going to be GD without Claude, which isn’t... totally wrong, but it’s got some other stuff going on too), I liked Seteth getting to have a bigger role, I thought it had the best final boss (if not the best final boss map), and I liked that I got some more Dragon Lore (never a bad thing)

please don’t yell at me for my controversial shipping opinions 

[taronfanfic]

Fast Forward

Chapter 6

The place your Mum picked for lunch was a quaint little farmhouse style tea-room. It was a family business which had only been running for a year or two but the lady serving the tea recognised your Mum instantly and pointed her through to a table which had just been cleared. It overlooked the beautiful wildflower garden which bustled with bees all year round. As soon as you’d sat down the same lady returned with the small menus and asked your Mum how she was getting on with what you presumed to be the title of a book.

Text me if you need anything Xxx

You tapped out a quick message to Taron and sent it whilst they finished their catch up, receiving a reply instantly.

It’s all good, your Dad is lovely. Nothing to worry about! Xxx

“Sorry about that, darling. That’s Julie from book club. Was that Taron texting, is everything alright?”

“It’s fine, they’re good. So what do you recommend on the menu? Or shall we push the boat out and have the full on Afternoon Tea?” You tried to change the subject but you knew it wouldn’t be long before it ended up back on the men in your lives.

“Have whatever you want, it’s all delicious and it’s not like we’re paying for it thanks to your toy boy!”

“Toy boy! Mum, he’s like a year and a bit older than me.” You shook your head as you sat back and looked over the menu quickly.

“Really? He doesn’t look it! Got one of those baby faces though hasn’t he… he’s not the sort you’d usually go for, surprised me a bit actually.”

“I think I’ll get the Afternoon Tea and an extra slice of cake or two, just to taste.”

“Why don’t you want to talk about Taron?” There was no hesitation as she looked up from her menu and fired out her question. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“Mum! I’m not pregnant, so stop with all the speculation.”

“Tell me about him then, he must be pretty special to have kept you distracted for so long now.”

“Kept me distracted!? Can we not have one conversation where you don’t take a cheap dig at me every 30 seconds?” You picked your bag up from the floor and placed it in your lap, showing her you were ready to walk out the door if she carried on.

“No, come on. Don’t get wound up. I just meant he’s clearly been taking up all your free time recently and that’s why we never see you or hear from you. Your Dad and I always expected you to move back here within a couple of years, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen. I take it he must be making you happy?”

“Yeah he is,” The softness returned to your body as you could answer that one easily and honestly. “I want you to like him. To take him seriously and not… not make a joke out of our relationship.”

“It’s a proper thing then?”

“Yeah, I really love him.”

“Gosh! Maybe he is asking your Dad for your hand in marriage then!”

“What?! Where’d you get that idea from! He’s only just met Dad so there’s no way he’d be asking that… I don’t even think he’s that traditional either! We’ve not even mentioned weddings or getting engaged… well not seriously, anyway.” Your words came out in a nervous rush as you panicked over the possibility.

“Hey, calm down,” Your Mum laughed softly. “I’m sure he’s not. It was a fleeting thought that crossed my mind earlier, that’s all. It was the way he said he had a question he needed to ask Michael and how quickly he wanted both of us out the house. But I’m sure I’m wrong, like you said they’ve only just met and that would be a bold move to make… is he a brave man?” The hot flush had risen to your face rapidly and you started to fan yourself with the menu just as Julie returned to take your order.

“Is it a bit warm in here for you, love? Shall I open the window.”

“No, no, you’re alright. She’s just got a bit panicked about her boyfriend possibly popping the question sometime soon!” Your Mum explained way too eagerly.

“Oh, how exciting!”

“It’s fine, he won’t. I’d know if he was acting shifty. His face gives it all away.” You reassured yourself more than anyone else.

“Oh... So he’s been dishonest before? What with?” Julie asked with intrigue as she pulled up a chair and freely joined in with your conversation to get all the gossip.

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter, shall we order?”

“No, just hold on a second. What do you mean?” Your Mum asked.

“It’s all in the past now, it’s fine. We’re good.” You smiled.

“What did he do?” You Mum saw straight through your smile and gave you that look of concern which is impossible to lie to.

“It was more of a miscommunication than anything else. We hadn’t labelled anything or said we were exclusive, but we’d been seeing a lot of each other so I just kinda presumed… and then found him acting weird and trying to get rid of me because he had another girl in his flat. So I ended things and didn’t give him the time of day for a while.”

“Well…” Your Mum sighed. “I think I’m going to need a glass of prosecco to soften that blow.”

From then on you knew her mind had been made up and that she wouldn’t be able to see past what was exactly that. The past. Her opinion of Taron had been tainted before she’d even got to know him and you knew that meant she’d be reluctant to show much interest for the rest of the weekend. It didn’t matter that he’d grovelled for weeks before you took him back, or that he’d barely put a foot wrong since. She didn’t want to know. If his eyes had strayed once, they were destined to stray again and that was the end of it. It was safe to say her reaction had dampened your mood and no amount of delicious cake was going to salvage it.

***

Taron knew instantly when you arrived back at the house that something had upset you, but you quietly shook your head at him in a ‘not now’ gesture. It felt awkwardly polite for the rest of the day whenever your Mum and Taron were in the same room together and you hoped for his sake that he didn’t start to overthink it. The small talk was… small. The usual questions about work, the weather, what had been on TV recently. Not once did your Mum ask about Taron’s family, his upbringing, interests or hobbies. You’d hoped your Dad had been more welcoming to him when you were out but you daren’t ask for fear of causing a scene.

You bit your tongue for most of the evening, letting your Mum’s comments slide even when you could feel the rage bubbling beneath your skin. You saw the way she looked at you when Taron put his arm around your shoulder as you sat watching TV and she rolled her eyes when he placed a quick kiss to your temple. She made you feel so uncomfortable around Taron that it was becoming unbearable and as soon as it hit 10pm you made your excuses and started to get ready for bed. Taron followed you out shortly after and joined you in the guest room just as you were starting to undress.

“They’re not that bad.” He spoke softly as he sat on the end of the bed and happily watched you strip down to your underwear. “Your Mum is a bit cold, but your Dad was great this afternoon, we got on really well.”

“Really? That’s good. I’m glad one of them is vaguely normal!”

“It’s alright, your Mum is probably just stressed about your Dad. She’ll warm up with time.”

“Wishful thinking. I had to confess to our relationship getting off on the wrong foot when we went out for lunch, so she’s got your card marked now. I’m sorry.”

“Great,” he rolled his eyes before pulling his top over his head. “I knew something had gone on when you first got back but I didn’t really want to ask.”

“Best not to. She’s never been good with any of my past boyfriends so don’t take it personally; It’s just her. I hate that she gives us daggers every time we touch too, makes me feel like I can’t even kiss you goodnight!”

“We’ll just have to do it when she’s not looking then, won’t we.” He grinned as he invited you to sit on his lap and receive his slow and teasing kiss. His arms wrapped around your body protectively as his tongue met yours and savoured every private second that you could grab.

“That was nice.” All the rage and anger melted away from you with his touch. You kept your forehead resting against his for a moment longer as you sighed contentedly. “I suppose I’d better get to my cold, single bed before I get in trouble for being in here for too long.”

“Put that halo back up for another 24 hours and we can let the devil out tomorrow night, promise.” Taron’s hands caressed over your bum as you stood up from his lap.

“You’re not even going to try and persuade me to stay in here tonight?”

“We both know that you don’t need any persuasion from me, so get gone… I’ll keep your side of the bed warm.” He winked cheekily as he lay back on the double bed and spread his arms out wide.

Taglist: @egerton-sweetie  @amanda-tallmadge @lizziespidiepridie @leanimal90 @anantheminmyheart22 @aynsleywalker​ @bohemianrhapsody86​ @butterfliesslugswormsandothershi @manners-maketh-taron @livingincompletesilence@marvelmakeuplover @ohsosmutty@misspygmypie  @manners-maketh-a-kingsman@courtmr @baileythepenguin@thomaslefteyebrow @witchymarvelspacecase @samanthasmileys@nellietara @i-cant-remember-my-old-login @wheresmylightinthedark@kurtis-conner@hoe4dior @toky-9101 @mayaslifeinabox@fluentlyspeakingtreason @yallyallblanchett @whiskeylipsx@emmaelizabeth2014​ @primaba11erina @fightuntilyoucan @carlita2025 @rocknrollmadden

[colorofmymindposts]

Hope for the Stars

Fandom: Doctor Who 

Pairings: Twelfth Doctor/Missy

Warnings: Major Character Death, Alternate Ending to series 10, Major Canon Divergence, Description of a Corpse 

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Status: Complete but part three of my The Doctor Falls series. Reading part one is pretty optional but I definitely recommend checking out part two before reading this. 

Word Count: 2134 

Chapter: 1/2. 

Summary: A final goodbye between the oldest friends in the universe seems as though it's the last chapter. But with the Doctor, every end comes with a beginning.

Tags: Heavy Angst, Messy Feelings, Coping with Death, Funeral, Grieving Missy, Twelve is very dead

I don’t know if the tagging system is still messed up, but you can read this work on ao3 under my username colorofmymind! Kudos and comments will be much appreciated!

The silence is deafening, save for the intermittent low hums of the TARDIS. Her hands drift and glide over the console as she circles round it, making no effort to start for any destination. A destination would require a plan. Missy has none.

What was the original plan, exactly? Redeem herself in everyone’s eyes, and then? No more tentative friendship. Renew their pact. Midnight, with the stars and him. It had been absolutely too vague, almost totally meaningless. And yet it was something. Now, there is nothing, no friend, without hope, without witness.

“Without reward, indeed,” Missy chokes out, voice hoarse from disuse and grief, realizing now she never precisely knew what that meant until this moment. Her death at least would have allowed her to escape from the shallow, crude reality of it all. Missy makes the mistake of looking down at the Doctor’s lifeless body. The sight alone is enough for her hands to tremor, knees to buckle, eyes to water and weep openly, now that the privacy allows for it. It takes much more time than she’d like to find the lapels of his jacket, fisting them in her hands for purchase. It doesn’t do much other than prevent her from strangling him, or herself.

“You absolute imbecile!” she cries out, venom behind each word. “I would have stayed here, the Vault, anywhere you would have liked for the rest of those thousand years! Two thousand even. You’d be there at least. You’d be alive.

But we were always so impatient, weren’t we? We couldn’t keep to the confines of Gallifrey or the Vault. We just wanted the universe. I wanted you.” Those last three words fall out her mouth without her permission, and she knows full well what she communicated with them. The humans always wait, desperate for that confession, that one word: love. There isn’t even a comparable translation for it in Gallifreyan; what is the need of such a word to Time Lords? Time Lords are supposed to have two hearts that are full of nothing.  

She wants to rip her hearts right out of her chest, stamp them into mincemeat under her boots, and wail with the confidence and indignity of a newborn babe until she keels over. Or maybe she could cut her hearts out, carefully, scientifically, and transplant them into the Doctor, make him breathe, live again; he could cry over her body, but at least that’d be familiar for the both of them.

Death is for other people, dear. Missy said that, once. She never dreamt that the Doctor would number among the others.

The grip she has on him slackens. With complete gracelessness and depravity, Missy collapses on top of him, her chest on his, face burying into the crook of his neck. The endless propulsion of loss and guilt wracks her body; the tears flow out as quickly as the notes to Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 20 in D minor K. 466 - 1. Allegro, one of the Doctor’s favorites that she used to play on the piano. The piano he gifted to her. Missy cannot form words even if she tries. So heavy is this sense of finality, and she’s drowning under it. Her friend is dead. Time levels and undulates and then ceases to be around them, and all Missy is aware of is the uncontrollable shaking and the gasping and crying like she’s being gutted from the inside out for existing at all and the fact that he’s gone, gone, gone forever and she’s the only one left...

It’s some time later that Missy finally awakens next to the Doctor, colder than he’s ever been. It’s not really him, she reminds herself. His essence, the playful and wonderful mind, they’re gone. Could she reclaim them, she would. She should, really. It’s the least she can do when this whole monumentally stupid test to prove herself was the very reason they had found themselves in that disaster, created by her former self, no less. Resurrection has its risks though, this she knows. The potential for a miscalculation or chemical imbalance is extremely high, and his entire body could irrevocably malform; of course the safer alternative, transferring the consciousness into a living host, is something the Doctor would have never even entertained whereas the Master had, ever so frequently when in a tight spot, regrettable now in retrospect.

The stinging pain in her back and abdomen from the Laser Screwdriver has lessened slightly with her rest, but her eyes feel terribly sore and dry from what was probably the greatest lapse into emotional breakdown of her life. There are no more tears to cry, now. Missy picks herself up, squeezing the Doctor’s hand before standing only to find it has become extremely stiff with the onset of rigor mortis. The realization leaves her nauseous and quite wishing she hadn’t done that.  

That does bring up the present dilemma. What to do with his body. A Time Lord’s body, particularly the DNA, would be a precious asset to almost any alien species. Burial and cryogenic freezing are right out then. The Doctor will have to burn.  

Somehow, she still manages to hobble over to the TARDIS console with that thought on her mind, pulling on the levers and buttons by mere muscle memory. Already, Missy has the perfect idea for the location for the Doctor’s funeral, a strange thing to be sentimental about, but if he were still part of the universe, she thinks he would appreciate it.  

“I’m almost certain you never prepared for this, my dear,” Missy begins, completely aware that the Doctor can no longer hear or respond to her. “I’m not talking about death, no, you practically begged for it when you were feeling particularly morose. What comes after is what I mean. Did you really think you could lie on a battlefield and that just be the end? It should take no more than a few centuries for a human exploratory crew or some other ship to find you with all your DNA and unleash terror on the universe. That just won’t do, not when you’ve put so much work into the place.”

The whole monologue was meant to calm her down, but she’s made an all too rational point. This is a universe without the Doctor, and it has been such a very long time since that was the reality. What will happen now, without that man roaming the stars, trying to bring kindness and goodness to the places and people he visits? As flawed as he could be while doing it, a small voice inside her offers.    

“Because one day everyone's just going to need you too much.” Bill was right. The universe will never survive without the Doctor.

The TARDIS hums somewhat admonishingly, and suddenly the psychic link is made between her and the ship, and a flurry of images and memories are the sole occupiers of her thoughts: the TARDIS landing unannounced and needing help for some unknown reason, Missy’s constant maintenance of the TARDIS, Missy trying to find a way out of the TARDIS doors to help the Doctor and his companions when he was about to sacrifice himself to the Cairn gate, and the moment she stepped out of those same doors declaring confidently “Hello I’m Doctor Who.”

Oh. Oh.

Missy smiles and tuts quietly at the now reicent sentient machine. Being, she corrects herself mentally. After, she and this Type 40 are going to have to get along if this is to work.

“You knew well before any of us, didn’t you? Oh, you clever girl,” she purrs.

The ship creaks and groans upon arriving to their destination. In all fairness, this is the most hectic point in time and space besides the literal end of the universe, and Missy’s been there before. Placing the stabilizers on as a precaution, Missy retreats down one of the corridors, hoping she’ll find what she’s looking for.

“Ah, there you are,” she says upon finding it. The casket’s exterior shines just as brightly as the wood from whence it came: the silver trees of Gallifrey. Adorning the side panels are the traditional Gallifreyan rites for the deceased. Measurements in this case are not necessary; Time Lord technology has once again thought ahead to accomodate for any particular regeneration--the dimensions are bigger on the inside. It’s a difficult task for someone of her stature and injured status to not drag the damned thing on the console flooring, but she manages it for the Doctor’s sake alone.

Upon placing the casket next to him, however, she cannot seem to find the strength in the moment to lift him into it and send him away for good. A hand of hers secures itself on one of the handles on the console to ascertain that she does not collapse again.

“Well, this is it then. Me, Missy, your oldest friend, assisting you with your death. Goodbye, effectively for the two of us. What am I even saying,” she finishes under her breath, beginning the process of lifting the Doctor’s body into the casket. For appearances’ sake, she brushes off the lingering dust and debris off his coat and trousers and face, though it won’t matter for much longer. No one else besides her will be viewing him, and he’ll be crisper in just a few minutes than she ever was back in the old days. From underneath the console, Missy locates four hover discs, placing one at each end of the casket to ensure his departure is as seamless as possible. For some inexplicable reason, she is unable to close the casket lid. There is something she must say first.

“We made a pact once, you and I. We were going to see the stars together and abandon all the trivial troubles of Gallifrey. But something went wrong in the plans. We went on separate paths. Well, you went on your own path, and I followed you. I followed you everywhere I could,” Missy confesses, tangling her fingers in her Doctor’s curls. “In some ways, I wish...I wish I hadn’t woken up from that shot, the one I should have died from. We both could have been dead martyrs together. Wouldn’t that have been nice? But I understand now why I couldn’t...join you. I never got the chance to, did I?” Her voice escapes her for several moments, and she blinks away the forthcoming tears she previously didn’t know she still had.

“Standing with you...was all I ever wanted, too. Thank you, Doctor, for trying. It worked. I am standing for something now, after this and evermore, and I’m sure it will kill me someday, for good.” Missy pauses to collect herself. If she’s giving him a closing testimony she’s making sure it’s a damn good one.

“This is the last chance you have to announce you’ve miraculously survived before I send you off into Dante’s Inferno, just so you know.” The silence that follows is answer enough to her request.

“It actually isn’t Dante’s Inferno. That place isn’t real. You wanted the stars, so I brought you to them. Every single one.”  

In a few quick steps, Missy is able to pull the doors open, revealing that they have indeed reached the intended destination. Gas clouds are just beginning to circulate and weave their ways, nebulas are brewing stars within their wombs, and galaxies expand their territory among the vast devoidness of empty space. The constellation of Kasterborous is just a few hundred million light-years away from forming.

“It isn’t the moment, not the singularity that started it all. Although, it’s reasonable enough to presume you’ve already been there. We’ve entered the structure formation period of the Big Bang, when stars began existing,” she explains.

“No star ever existed before this point or would be able to exist without this moment. Your casket will fly into one of those stars and burn with its light and passion, and your atoms be dispersed all around the universe and help bring life to all of creation. I think without a doubt this is the best surprise party I’ve ever thrown for you,” Missy claims, placing her hands on her hips with a certain sense of self-satisfaction in this truly bizarre and dizzying ceremony.

The casket hovers just by the TARDIS doors. All she has to do is guide it out, and discs will direct it over to that red dwarf star, his final resting place. With a certain solemnity and poise Missy has never reserved for anyone in her lives, she seals the casket shut.

In a whisper, hushed so only the infant forces of the universe behind the two of them can hear, she gives the Doctor her final farewell.

“Goodnight, my dear friend.”  

[dfroza]

A True story of Light and eternal Love:

“Know this, dear brothers and sisters: the good news I brought to you isn’t the latest in fiction or the product of some creative mind. It is not a legend I learned or one that has been passed down from person to person, ear to ear. I was gifted with this message as Jesus the Anointed revealed Himself miraculously to me.”

A set of lines from Today’s reading of the Scriptures in the New Testament Letter of Galatians (chapter 1:11-12 in The Voice)

with the whole first chapter in The Message:

I, Paul, and my companions in faith here, send greetings to the Galatian churches. My authority for writing to you does not come from any popular vote of the people, nor does it come through the appointment of some human higher-up. It comes directly from Jesus the Messiah and God the Father, who raised him from the dead. I’m God-commissioned. So I greet you with the great words, grace and peace! We know the meaning of those words because Jesus Christ rescued us from this evil world we’re in by offering himself as a sacrifice for our sins. God’s plan is that we all experience that rescue. Glory to God forever! Oh, yes!

I can’t believe how you waver—how easily you have turned traitor to him who called you by the grace of Christ by embracing an alternative message! It is not a minor variation, you know; it is completely other, an alien message, a no-message, a lie about God. Those who are provoking this agitation among you are turning the Message of Christ on its head. Let me be blunt: If one of us—even if an angel from heaven!—were to preach something other than what we preached originally, let him be cursed. I said it once; I’ll say it again: If anyone, regardless of reputation or credentials, preaches something other than what you received originally, let him be cursed.

Do you think I speak this strongly in order to manipulate crowds? Or court favor with God? Or get popular applause? If my goal was popularity, I wouldn’t bother being Christ’s slave. Know this—I am most emphatic here, friends—this great Message I delivered to you is not mere human optimism. I didn’t receive it through the traditions, and I wasn’t taught it in some school. I got it straight from God, received the Message directly from Jesus Christ.

I’m sure that you’ve heard the story of my earlier life when I lived in the Jewish way. In those days I went all out in persecuting God’s church. I was systematically destroying it. I was so enthusiastic about the traditions of my ancestors that I advanced head and shoulders above my peers in my career. Even then God had his eye on me. Why, when I was still in my mother’s womb he chose and called me out of sheer generosity! Now he has intervened and revealed his Son to me so that I might joyfully tell non-Jews about him.

Immediately after my calling—without consulting anyone around me and without going up to Jerusalem to confer with those who were apostles long before I was—I got away to Arabia. Later I returned to Damascus, but it was three years before I went up to Jerusalem to compare stories with Peter. I was there only fifteen days—but what days they were! Except for our Master’s brother James, I saw no other apostles. (I’m telling you the absolute truth in this.)

Then I began my ministry in the regions of Syria and Cilicia. After all that time and activity I was still unknown by face among the Christian churches in Judea. There was only this report: “That man who once persecuted us is now preaching the very message he used to try to destroy.” Their response was to recognize and worship God because of me!

The Letter of Galatians, Chapter 1 (The Message)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 65th chapter of the book (scroll) of Isaiah that points to the creation of new heavens and a new earth and forgetting what is past (tense):

Eternal One: I was ready and willing to help before anyone even asked.

I was found by people who did not seek Me;

I showed My face and said, “Here I am! I am right here!”

to a nation which did not call on Me.

I kept extending Myself to a people who don’t care a whit.

All day long I opened my hands to those who constantly work against Me,

Those busy pursuing their own rotten path, inspired by their own rotten schemes.

These people continue to insult Me, right to My face,

pursuing other gods, sacrificing in gardens

And offering incense on altars made of bricks.

They sit among the graves and spend their nights in secret rituals;

they eat the flesh of pigs and pollute their pots with unclean meats.

They have the gall to say, “Oooh, not so close! I am holier than you!”

These unholy people are smoke in My nostrils,

A fire that burns and burns all day.

Look and see what stands written before Me:

“I will not remain silent and watch this disgrace;

But I will pay them back for what they have done.

I will pour their pay directly into their laps.

They will pay for their sins and the sins of their parents too.

For they turned to other gods, burned incense on the mountains

And insulted Me on the hillsides.

I will bring everything they deserve back to them, to their very core.”

This is what the Eternal has to say:

Eternal One: It’s like noticing the promise of new wine in a cluster of grapes.

One will say, “Don’t destroy them all; some of them are bound to be good.”

So for the sake of My servants,

I won’t destroy absolutely everyone.

But I will bring up children from Jacob’s line to inherit this land.

To Jacob’s son Judah I will give My mountains.

These, My chosen ones, will inherit it;

these, My servants, will live there and call it home.

From the plains of Sharon to the valley of Achor,

My people—who look to Me and no other—

Will have pasture for their sheep

and safe places for their herds.

But those of you who ignore Me, the Eternal One—

who turn away from My sanctuaries

And reject My holy mountain

to chase Lady Luck and cater to Destiny—

Will find yourselves a bit unlucky and your destiny an early death.

You’ll bow down and be killed like sheep brought to the slaughter

Because when I called you, you did not answer;

when I spoke, you refused to listen.

Instead you did all the wrong things and made terrible choices—

what I expressly said that I hate.

So this is what the Lord, the Eternal, has to say:

Eternal One: My servants will eat and eat well, while you go hungry;

My servants will drink and be satisfied, while you are parched with thirst;

My servants will celebrate with joy, while you are put to shame.

My servants will sing with gladness in their hearts,

While you cry out in anguish and despair and bemoan your brokenness.

And when you are gone, your name will become a curse—

a repugnant byword—to My chosen people;

The Eternal God will put you to death

and call His servants by a new name altogether.

Whoever speaks a blessing in this special land

will invoke the God of truth;

Whoever takes a vow in the land of promise

will make his pledge by the God of truth.

For the bitterness and pain of earlier times will nevermore come to mind;

they’ll be hidden even from My eyes, God says.

Eternal One: Now look here!

I am creating new heavens and a new earth.

The weary and painful past will be as if it never happened.

No one will talk or even think about it anymore.

So take joy and celebrate with unending gladness

on account of what I am creating.

Look carefully! I am making this place I’ve chosen, this Jerusalem, a city of joy.

I’m making her citizens, My people, a people of gladness.

This Jerusalem, My pride and joy, and her people will be a delight to Me.

Though you listen at every corner,

You will never hear crying, never hear despair or grief.

Never again will a person not live a full life,

for the young will live to be a hundred

And any who die earlier will be considered cursed.

People will confidently build houses and make them their homes;

they will plant vineyards and enjoy their fruit for years to come.

They won’t worry that someone else will come along, drive them out,

and take it all away.

For My people will live as long as these age-old trees;

My chosen will use up and wear out whatever they make.

They will not work hard for what others take away;

they will not lose children to sudden terror and death.

For they are the offspring of those blessed by the Eternal;

they and their descendants will enjoy God’s blessings.

I’ll anticipate their prayers and respond before they know it;

even as they speak, I will hear.

But they’ll all eat together like friends—wolf and lamb, lion and ox,

and the biting snake will feed on dust.

When that day arrives, there will be no evil, no violence, no hurt or wrong

in all My sacred mountain.

The Book (Scroll) of Isaiah, Chapter 65 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Thursday, August 12 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A set of posts by John Parsons that looks at humility and turning the heart to God for healing:

The advent of the “Season of Teshuvah” reminds us that we all fail, that we all are broken people, and that errors and mistakes are part of our daily spiritual life... We journey toward humility rather than struggle for perfection; we confess our need for forgiveness and seek reconciliation with all those we might have harmed... During this season it is common enough to hear messages about our need to turn and draw near to God for life, but it is equally important to remember that God turns and draws near to the brokenhearted for consolation. As it is said, the Lord is near to the nishbar lev (נִשְׁבָּר לֵב), the one with a broken and crushed heart (Psalm 51:17).

Brokenness is the means through which God performs some of His deepest work within our hearts. A.W. Tozer once said, "It is doubtful whether God can bless a man greatly until he has hurt him deeply." Likewise Alan Redpath once wrote, "When God wants to do an impossible task, he takes an impossible individual – and crushes him." William James called this deep work of the spiritual life Zerrissenheit, a term that roughly can be translated as "torn-to-pieces-hood," or a state of being utterly broken and in disarray... The brokenhearted live in day-to-day dependence upon God for the miracle... [Hebrew for Christians]

Perhaps you (like me) once learned Psalm 19:7 as, "The law of the LORD is perfect, converting the soul." However, the Hebrew text might better be translated as, "The instruction (i.e., Torah) of the LORD is perfect, returning the soul." This is the message of teshuvah (תְּשׁוּבָה), or "repentance," of course. We turn away from ourselves to discover that only the love of God given in Yeshua gives life to our dead hearts (Mark 1:15). Teshuvah is therefore first of all a matter of faith, of trusting in the miracle of God. And though it is indeed a great gift from heaven, it requires that we pass through the "narrow gate" of humility by confessing the truth about who we are (Matt. 7:13). We turn away from our pride; we acknowledge our inner poverty, our neediness, and we mourn over the loss and hurt caused by our sin. Teshuvah turns us away from our attempts to defend or justify ourselves and instead turns to God to heal our separation from love (Rom. 8:3-4). The miracle of love buries our old nature and transforms us into a new creation (2 Cor. 5:17). [Hebrew for Christians]

8.11.21 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

August 12, 2021

God Our Savior

“But after that the kindness and love of God our Saviour toward man appeared.” (Titus 3:4)

Six times in the pastoral epistles Paul refers to God (evidently meaning the Father) as our Savior (1 Timothy 1:1; 2:3; 4:10; Titus 1:3; 2:10; 3:4). Usually, however, he and the other New Testament writers identify Jesus Christ as our Savior. “But grow in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ” (2 Peter 3:18, for example). In the same fashion, Paul relates that his commission to preach the gospel came from “God our Saviour” (Titus 1:3), while elsewhere he says his commission came “by the revelation of Jesus Christ” (Galatians 1:12).

Is this a contradiction? No! In fact, references to God as our Savior should not surprise us, for it is found in numerous places in the Old Testament. (See, for example, Psalm 106:21.) Furthermore, our understanding of the Trinity insists that all three persons of the Godhead are One in God. Of course, Christ made many references to the fact that He was not acting on His own but came to do “the will of him that sent me” (John 6:38). Paul himself seemed to be comfortable with this seeming overlap, for in one sentence he wrote, “God our Saviour;...Grace, mercy, and peace, from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ our Saviour” (Titus 1:3-4). Such usages further confirm also that Jesus is God.

While Christ was the primary instrument of salvation as the perfect sacrifice for sin, God the Father is the source of all human salvation, and the application of the title Savior to Him is proper. Indeed, we derive great comfort as we see the role of all three Persons of the Godhead involved in our salvation.

“Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins” (1 John 4:10). JDM

[beckytailweaver]

I went forth and...

From this post

anonymous asked: Is it okay to write little side/spin off fics based on your guys' interpretation of the teacher au?

slusheeduck answered: BRUH ALWAYS.

im-fairly-whitty : GO FORTH AND CREATE COCOLOCOS!!

Hm....okay!

How about this:

Héctor Rivera is a music teacher (duh). Years ago he left the Rivera family back in Santa Cecilia for the sake of music and ended up becoming a music teacher, and now lives in another town with Ernesto and his YouTube channel and all of that. The Rivera family doesn’t know where he is and have mostly written him off as Lost To Music and is a “him” used as an example to scare Rivera children: Stay away from music or you’ll disappear and Abuelita will be angry with you forever!

Rivera family hates music because of an ancestor. Héctor may or may not have been accidentally named after him.

Miguel Rivera is...not an orphan. He’s a pretty average twelve year old with a secret passion for music. His parents have moved here from Santa Cecilia for work reasons and he’s enrolling in a new school, though his parents have barred him from any music classes. Miguel is particularly sad because this move meant he had to leave his beloved makeshift guitar and his secret attic of music recordings and Cruz downloads behind. Living in a small apartment with Mamá and Papá means he’s got no time or space to get away with music.

However, Miguel soon discovers that the new school has a huge (to a small town kid) music classroom full of musical instruments. There are even several guitars.

Miguel sneaks in to play those guitars whenever he can. He comes to school early. He finds recess periods no one is around. He makes excuses to stay after school. But only if no one can know—otherwise they’ll tell his parents he was sneaking in to play music and they’ll kill him.

Héctor has no idea this is going on until some morning he has to roll out and get to the school janitor-early for some reason. He approaches his music classroon only to hear the sounds of someone playing a very familiar song—very well actually. Clear and proficient on the guitar, with the same tempo and flourishes that Héctor himself would have used.

Héctor looks in, expecting to see one of the advanced students...and instead finds a little boy strumming away at the guitar with his eyes closed and a look of transcendence on his face. Héctor has to just watch for a minute, because it’s been a while since he’s seen a child with that much selfless love for music.

When he does make himself known, the boy leaps out of his skin and almost drops the guitar. Héctor has to perform one of his rare and famous flying lunges to keep it from hitting the floor! Meanwhile the kid is near tears pleading with Héctor not to tell anyone and if only to calm him down Héctor plays a few notes on the guitar and tells him he didn’t do anything really against the rules, though technically students are supposed to have permission to use instruments in non-class hours...

By the time the boy calms down, they’re conversing about fret techniques and the latest acoustic music trends and Héctor finds the boy to be surprisingly knowledgeable, and wonders why he’s not in any of the music classes.

Miguel has to confess that his parents would never allow it, because his whole family hates music, so all he can do is sneak a little guitar playing here and there by watching YouTube vids.

“What a coincidence,” Héctor says. “My family was like that too. You’re very good for being self-taught.”

Héctor, who also taught himself, has a lot of tips for things you miss before you manage to get some formal music education, and directs a few of Miguel’s hand movements in what becomes a tiny, informal lesson. Héctor is kind, Miguel is rapt, and before the hour is out Héctor is Miguel’s new Favorite Person Ever and he’s all but begging for permission to come back and play again.

This starts a Secret Meeting Tradition between Profe Héctor and little Miguel, where they’ll spend a little time a few mornings a week in a small guitar lesson/jam session before class begins. Héctor is just excited to shepherd such a promising young talent with such passion, and hopes the boy will be able to attend music class someday (soon).

They have no idea they're related. Somehow that never came up, despite all the clues and reflections.

That won't come out until a bit later, after Héctor's heartstrings are utterly tied to this amazing kid who can only have music in little stolen moments; after Miguel has come to believe this music teacher hung the moon because Héctor is letting him play guitar, is playing with him, is encouraging him in music when no one else ever has before.

It won't come out until Héctor wonders too much about Miguel's sad faces and a family that hates music so much, it brings back memories—wait, Rivera? There can't be that many families named Rivera who've banned music, especially not from...Santa Cecilia...?

Oh dear.

Then it all comes out and everything starts to unravel and Miguel can't bear to give up his newfound music teacher/big brother/tío no matter how angry his family is, and the family might never forgive Héctor for leaving for music, and now this, and Héctor is going to have to resolve himself to go up to bat for his Chamaco who doesn’t want to lose music or any of his family.

How all of this mess works out to a happy ending is going to require that I plot...

*thinking cap*