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you-are-my-joy · 4 years ago

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The Return of an Empress | 07

Title: The Return of an Empress

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Isekai, Angst, Romance, Fluff, Smut (Later on), Slow burn

Characters: Empress!Reader, Advisor!Jin, Advisor!Yoongi, General!Hoseok, Advisor!Namjoon, Assassin!Jimin, Knight!Taehyung, Knight!Jungkook

Word count: ~9k

Summary: After one fateful night, you find yourself transmigrated into your favorite novel as the Empress that shares the same name as you. As a bookworm, most would think you’d be happy, but how could you be happy when the Empress you’ve become is expected to be killed in three months. The only thing on your mind now is to learn how to survive.

Warning: May contain depictions of violence and mentions of abuse throughout the story.

Masterlist

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In the 380th imperial year, on June 9th, two days after the nobles were caught red-handed and thus apprehended, was the day of the largest massacre of high nobility in the history of the empire.

At 8 am in the morning, a total of 18 of some of the most well-known and influential nobles of the empire were executed by the city plaza.

With tired steps, you trudge inside your bedroom, immediately falling onto the comfort of your bed. You let out an exasperated sigh, tossing your head back until it rests on a nearby pillow. Despite getting rid of the duke and the rest of the nobles, you can’t help but still feel a sense of unease and tension. Would the original empress make the same decision? You don’t know the answer, but what you do know, is that you’ll most likely be haunted by the cries and screams of those who lost their lives today for the rest of your life.

It’s one thing to actually read of the graphic murders and deaths that occurred in the novel, it’s a whole different story when you actually experience and see first hand how gruesome the public executions truly were. Back in your world, you’ve never witnessed anyone’s death before, as it was the 21st century, public executions were prohibited decades ago. But suddenly you had to endure an entire morning witnessing the horrifying deaths of 18 people as their heads detached from their body, a large pool of blood staining the once clean pavement.

You weren’t keen on torturing people, so you were merciful in the sense that you chose to execute them through a beheading, with a fresh and sharpened axe to be exact. In this world, beheadings, although gruesome and bloody, were seen as the most ‘humane’ form of execution as the deed would be done in one swift motion, a painless execution to some extent.

You remember hearing many of the nobles and commoners who attended the public executions express their disappointment at your choice, thinking you were being much too kind considering the heinous crime they committed. Despite their disappointment, they were slightly relieved over your choice, many were still skeptical over the empress’s supposed changed behavior, but seeing you wince and grimace at each beheading finally convinced them otherwise.

News spread like wildfire around the empire about what had occurred at the party, news articles being published nearly a day later. The most popular topic of course being the Grand Duke himself drugging the empress, and so countless of nobles all around the empire scurried to watch the spectacle. Thus, the grand finale of the execution came when former Grand Duke, Lee Joong-Gu finally stepped forward.

Many people had looked at him in disgust, throwing rotten fruits and vegetables his way and cursed out his name. The entire time, he wore a solemn expression as he kneels down without complaint unlike the rest of the criminals who wailed pathetically until their last breath.

You remember that in the midst of it all, he had looked up at you, your eyes instantly locking with one another, and you swear from where you stood, you saw a hint of remorse and guilt in his face. Your mind reeling as he tearfully mouths ‘I’m sorry’ to you, but before you could even react any further, the axe gets raised in the air and in the next second is swung down with much force. His head rolling down the pavement as the cheers of the crowd rang out excitedly at the gruesome sight.

However, the cheers seem to fade from your ears as all you can focus on is the dukes rolling head. And somehow it stops, facing in your direction, empty eyes that were once so full of life, ingraining themselves in your memory forever. You blink away the tears forming in your eyes, confused as to why your body was reacting like this. You flinch as you stare at his body slumped over, but your view gets blocked when Jungkook steps in front of you.

The entire morning, Jungkook and Taehyung have been right beside you, acting as your escorts as you had requested. Always attempting to block your view when they noticed your grim and disgusted expressions at each beheading. Jin and Namjoon were also present, but they stood a few meters away from you, ensuring that the executions ran as quickly and smoothly as possible. Hoseok was present as well, but as the general, he was in charge of security and surveying the city plaza, prioritizing your safety over everything else.

The only ones who hadn’t shown up were Yoongi and Jimin. Yoongi, you had expected, though you had a glimmer of hope that he would make an appearance, but Jimin? You thought he would come to greet you after the party, but you haven’t seen him since he left you by the ballroom doors. You were extremely worried, thinking something bad had happened to him, but Namjoon reassured you that he was fine as he had ran into him the other day. He further informs you that Jimin wasn’t feeling good, which explains his sudden absence. Though you remained unconvinced, you choose to give Jimin his needed space, thinking it would be better for him to come to you when he was ready.

When the executions were over you stood up from your seat, ready to leave the area in a hurry as the overwhelming stench of blood nearly made you puke on the spot. But suddenly you heard loud cheers as everyone directed their attention to you, “All Hail Empress Y/n!” many of them yelled out, grinning at you as they praised your actions.

You hadn’t expected to be well received so quickly, since less than a week ago, some of these same people trembled in fear over your presence. You send them a charming smile to express your gratitude, but this only seemed to ignite something in them as they seemingly cheered your name even more.

Despite the cheering, all you wanted to do was go back to the palace and rest. So here you are, groaning as you lay flat on the spacious bed. You feel the bed dip slightly to your left, prompting you to open your eyes to see Jungkook looking down at you with a small smile. “How are you feeling?” he reaches his hand out to gently brush a strand of hair in front of your face.

“Absolutely exhausted,” you let out a groan, closing your eyes once more. And you weren’t only talking about the past few days. It seemed that you were never truly able to catch a break the moment you arrived in this world. You can’t even imagine the amount of work the past empress had to endure.

Taehyung, having found comfort in your couch situated in the middle of your grand bedroom, hums at that, “Mentally or physically exhausted?”

You scoff before letting out a yawn, “Both.”

Jungkook nods as he moves his hand away from your face to lazily trace shapes on the palm of your hand, “I'm sorry to hear that your majesty,” he replies, sending you a pitiful look, as he notices traces of stress and exhaustion written on your face.

Still with your eyes closed, you rest for a moment, “It’s fine. This is my duty as the empress.”

Jungkook nods, “I understand, but before you’re an empress, you’re a human. You need to rest, your majesty,” he says, concern laced in his voice as he continues tracing odd shapes on your palm.

Though after a while, you’ve come to the realization that rather than shapes, he was actually tracing your name on your skin.

You open your eyes to stare at Jungkook who was too distracted writing your name to pay attention to your gaze. You just stare when a sudden thought crosses your mind, “Hey Jungkook, can you try calling me by my name?”

Jungkook seems to freeze in his spot, his hand stopping right above yours as he stares at you with wide eyes, “Pardon?” this seems to gain Taehyung's attention as well when you see him from the corner of your eye snap his head instantly in your direction.

You shrug, sitting straight up now facing him. Both your faces nearly inches apart that Jungkook instantly blushes and shifts a bit further away from you to calm his racing heart, though you take that gesture as discomfort instead, “What’s wrong? You don’t want to?”

Jungkook stutters as he waves his arms in front of his face in an ‘X’ shape motion, “N-No, It’s not that I don't want to… but why are you suddenly asking that of me?” Both Jungkook and Taehyung stare at you in a mixture of confusion and interest since they haven’t addressed the empress by her name in nearly 3 years. Not after she had scolded the both of them until they complied to her wishes.

“I figured we might as well go back to our old ways you know?” you suggest, but after taking in their shocked reactions you quickly add, “Of course if you’re uncomfortable with my request then I don’t want to force you to do anything. But I do give you permission to call me by my name when it’s just us.”

Jungkook turns his head to Taehyung as they look at each other wearily, as if doubting your words and thinking this was all just one big test. He hesitantly turns back to you, “Is that truly alright?” he asks while fidgeting nervously with his hand.

“Of course it is,” you smile reassuringly, your eyes staring at him in anticipation, “will you?” You ask, you try to hide your excitement in order to not pressure him, but who were you kidding, it’s practically written on your face.

Jungkook’s lips curve upward slightly as he couldn’t deny your request, especially when your golden eyes shined brightly at him, “Yes…. Y/n…” though he had said it in a shy whisper, you still heard him loud and clear. You didn’t think hearing your name come out of his mouth would affect you so much but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling widely. It’s times like these that you’re extremely grateful for sharing the same name as the old empress.

“Woah that’s not fair,” you turn your head to find Taehyung with his arms crossed, playfully glaring at you both, “why does he get special treatment and I don't?”

You chuckle as Taehyung's pout reminds you of a child who got their toy taken away and wants it back. Your amusement grows even more as you sit back and watch Jungkook be equally as childish when he sticks his tongue out at the older knight. And Taehyung, the ever mature knight, mimics his actions in return.

You grin at the older knight, wanting nothing more than to ruffle his hair, “this applies to you as well Taehyung.”

Taehyung finally turns to you after seemingly having a contest with Jungkook on who can contort their face in a mocking way better, “thank you… Y/n,” he replies softly with a gentle smile now on his face.

They’ll admit, addressing you by your name sounded strange coming out their mouth, but they couldn’t deny the nostalgic and warm feeling in their chest when they finally did. And your smile definitely brightened their day even more.

“Y/n.” you hear Jungkook call out softly, though he flinches when he gains your attention.

You furrow your eyes in confusion at his odd reaction, “Yes?”

You notice his cheeks glow with a tint of red, “Sorry, it’s nothing. I just wanted to say your name in front of you,” the ending of his sentence becoming a soft whisper as he was embarrassed to have been caught by you. But he should’ve known better than to believe your ears wouldn’t catch him.

You have to mentally slap yourself to stay calm and composed as to not squeal in delight to embarrass him further. So to spare him, you fight back a giggle as you beam back at him, “you’re more than welcome to call me by my name anytime you want Jungkook.” Gaining a wide smile from him in return.

“Y/n?” Taehyung suddenly calls out, causing you to face him now. Though he chuckles at your raised brow, “I’m not just calling out your name, I genuinely have a question.” You chuckle right back, nodding your head, gesturing to him to ask his question. “Are you still feeling sick?” You understand he wasn’t referring to earlier, rather he was talking about your symptoms from withdrawal.

Thankfully after properly taking medication daily or as suggested by the royal physician, you’ve been experiencing a lot less symptoms as the days go by. Joy reminding and ensuring that you actually took them definitely helped with the process.

You nod sending him a soft smile, “no, I’ve been feeling a lot better nowadays. Though, I’ll admit I kind of want to throw up. But I’m pretty sure the main perpetrator to that is the blood.” Despite having left the plaza awhile ago, you seemingly couldn’t get rid of the stench of blood in your nose. Even just the thought of it makes you involuntarily gag.

Jungkook softly chuckles, “from being in countless battles, you’d think you’d get used to the sight of blood,” he jokes with a teasing glint in his eyes as he grew bold enough to hold your hand after tracing on it for so long.

You stare down at your joined hands, his large ones nearly covering yours completely. You feel him squeeze your hand lightly prompting you to look up at his mischievous grin as he caught you staring. You playfully roll your eyes, “it’s been awhile, alright, I forgot,” you grumble.

Though Taehyung hums at that as leans his head back on the soft cushions of the couch, “you seem to be using that excuse quite often,” he mutters, not looking you in the eye, but instead choosing to stare out your window.

At his statement, you gulp nervously. You immediately take note from the corner of your eyes the prying look of Jungkook as his hold on your hand seems to tighten.

But before you could come up with yet another excuse, you hear a knock at your door. Someone was definitely looking out for you as you had no idea how to respond without you being even more suspicious than before.

You sit up straight, briefly glancing at your knights who refuse to look you in the eye before calling out, “come in.” You quickly let go of Jungkook’s hand causing the boy to snap his head in your direction before his shoulders seemingly drop. Though he doesn’t say anything more as the doors to your bedroom open wide.

Soon enough, the double doors reveal Hoseok, Namjoon and Jin. They bow out of respect before briefly making eye contact with Jungkook and Taehyung, to which they send a curt nod, acknowledging each other’s presence.

For some reason, you felt a shift in the air as the three men stepped into the room. As if they were... hostile? But that doesn’t make sense, you question. Shouldn't they be on good terms with each other? You thought, but you were so wrong when you could feel the tension around you. Something unspoken between the five males.

You understand that you haven’t known these men for long, but even you could tell that there was a sudden shift in their relationship. You saw it in the ballroom and now your suspicions are confirmed when you observe their body language in front of you.

After many moments of silence, Namjoon finally turns his attention to you, “more of those journalists keep requesting for your time your majesty,” he reports, only now do you notice his tired eyes. He must’ve been dealing with those journalists since he got back, and from what you know, they’re almost as ruthless as those in high society.

But before you could respond, you hear Taehyung let out an annoyed groan from where he sat, “They bombarded her all throughout the morning, can’t they give her a break?” he scowls when turning his head out the window as he caught a glimpse of those pesky reporters from the border of the palace walls. Their cameras steadily aimed at the palace, hoping to capture a lucky shot of the empress.

“It’s alright, I can handle them,” you reply, having already mentally and physically prepared yourself for this since you knew this would be a hot topic in the empire. A topic that the reporters wouldn’t let go of until they were satisfied. But just as you were about to stand from the comfort of your bed, you feel a hand gently rest on your shoulder, prompting you to turn and find Jungkook staring at you in concern.

“Y/n, you need to rest,” Jungkook says softly, “you truly did look sick early, maybe it's from withdrawals or maybe it's from the blood, who knows, but I think it’s best you rest for the day.” You knew it would be hard to go against Jungkook, especially when he had that determined look in his eyes. Though that wasn’t what everyone else was thinking as his statement piqued their interest.

“Y/n?” Jin questions loudly. He had thought he was hearing things, but by the looks on Namjoons and Hoseok's faces, he indeed did hear correctly. Jungkook had addressed you by your name.

The boy blushes, not having realized he had blurted out your name in front of them. But before he could explain himself, Taehyung beat him to it.

“Y/n gave us permission to call her by her name,” he boasts with his head held high as if he was bragging about some great achievement he got. Which in a way, it kind of was.

Hoseok raises his brow as he turns to look at you now, “may I know why?”

You clear your throat, “well, when I got rid of the alcohol and drugs in my system, I wanted to make things right and go back to how they were before. So I gave them permission to address me by my name like old times,” you reply confidently, having already prepared an answer for this question long ago.

Though after some time, Hoseok’s blank face shifts, “I see,” he replies with a smile, but you knew better than to trust that, you knew hidden in that expression was a man that still had doubts despite witnessing the downfall of the nobles before his own eyes. You had thought Namjoon would be the one you needed to be careful of, but it seems you were wrong in that sense as you become anxious at Hoseok’s judging stare.

Jin clears his throat, an attempt to get rid of the growing tension in the room, “we also came to discuss plans regarding the property of the nobles as well as what's to come with their families and who would be the ones to take their positions,” he pauses before nodding his head in Hoseok’s direction, “we brought along Hoseok in case military services were needed.”

You nod, though you couldn’t help but wonder, “Where’s Yoongi?”

Jin stills for a moment before tilting his head, visibly confused from your question, “why are you suddenly asking for him?”

Now it’s your turn to be confused as you furrow your eyebrows, “Because he’s also one of my advisors,” you answer as if it was obvious.

As if sensing your confusion, Namjoon responds, “pardon our rudeness, your majesty. You just don’t normally call on him for these types of things.”

Now you’re even more confused than before, “I don’t?”

Namjoon nods his head in confirmation, “I believe it’s because he’s not from nobility, that it may hinder and influence his judgment on these types of cases,” he explains in the nicest way possible.

Dumbfounded, you remain seated on your bed, “I see,” is all you could utter. You knew that out of the 8 of you, the only ones who came from nobility were Namjoon, Jin, and Hoseok. Their families were one of the few nobles who secretly opposed the former emperor, which made it easy for the main character to gain their support in the rebellion. There’s no doubt that Hoseok’s military family, Namjoon’s intelligence, and Jin’s abundant wealth, had an immense influence on the success of the rebellion.

Of course that’s not to say that the others are any less important. Jungkook and Taehyung were among the best of the best in terms of strength and fighting, not to mention Jimin being an ace when it came to agility and swiftness. They had the skills to go against opponents 10 times their size, and yet somehow win. The three were known to be the best fighters in the empire, after the empress herself of course. Afterall, they learned everything they knew from her.

Yoongi on the other hand, proved himself to be worthy to stand by the empress’s side as an advisor due to the fact that when it came to forming tactics, he always had the perfect plan to go along with every scenario. Much of the rebellion's success was derived from the various attack plans that Yoongi came up with.

He also knows how to handle her the best out of them all. He knows how to approach her when she gets mad or upset. And he is one of the few people who isn’t afraid to go against her if he needs to, only with her and the empire’s best intentions in his mind.

But when it came to politics, Yoongi had a harder time due to the fact that he was just a village boy who didn’t receive the same amount of education as Namjoon or Jin. Granted neither did Y/n, having been born from the same village, but she was so determined to become the empress that she worked strenuously day in and day out in order to fit the role. Having Namjoon as her teacher definitely helped the process run smoothly.

Sure Yoongi isn’t as book smart as Namjoon, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t smart at all. You know that despite things being said about him, his words and inputs at national council meetings have proven to be of great help to the empress and the empire in the past.

And so without another word, you stand up from your bed with a newfound determination.

Jungkook and Taehyung eye you in concern. “Y/n?” Jungkook asks, reaching out to hold your hand, causing you to stop in your tracks.

“I’m going to go and personally find Yoongi. Regardless of our differences, he’s still my advisor, and his presence is just as important as every single one of you.” You feel Jungkook loosen his grip on you, allowing you to slip away from his grasp.

“Shall we escort you there?” Jungkook asks tentatively, while Taehyung had already stood up, prepared to follow you on your command.

But instead, you shake your head, “Considering what transpired last time, I don’t think it’d be wise to bring either one of you two along,” Jungkook rubs the back of his neck while Taehyung turns away as they’re both suddenly reminded of the way they had behaved towards Yoongi. Although they were opposed to the idea of you going alone, they couldn’t argue with your statement, since even they don’t know how they would react if they were in each other's presence again.

“I’ll accompany her majesty,” Hoseok suddenly speaks up with a raised hand, resulting in everyone turning their heads in his direction, “I think it should only be fair after all,” he pouts, lowering his hand to cross both his arms across his chest.

Namjoon raises a brow at his claim, “Fair?”

Hoseok nods as he accusingly points at every man in the room other than himself, “Every single one of you have spent more time with her than me, that's why I think it’s only fair if I escort her,” he declares with a puff of his chest.

Taehyung scoffs at him, “Can you blame us? We’re her escorts, of course we’re going to spend more time with her,” he fights back a roll of his eyes due to Hoseok being of a higher rank than him.

“Exactly, so I hope you don’t mind me stealing your ‘Y/n’ for the time being,” and before you could even utter a word, Hoseok strides towards you, reaching for your arm and practically begins dragging you out the room, “see you boys later!”

Jin shakes his head disapprovingly as he watches Hoseok roughly pull you, “would you be more careful with her majesty!”

Hoseok scoffs, “She’s not weak,” he responds as he turns around abruptly, your chest nearly colliding with his if it weren’t for his arms steadying you.

“I agree, but she’s also not a ragdoll that you could just push around as you please,” Jin snaps back at him, eyes narrowing at the grip on your arm.

Namjoon nods his head at this, “Indeed. Be more gentle Hoseok,” he warns sternly as he shifts his body towards the both of you intimidatingly.

And you don’t even need to turn around to know Jungkook and Taehyung were both shooting daggers at the general.

Hoseok sighs and finally lets go of you with his arms raised above his head in defeat, “alright alright I get it. I’ll keep my hands to myself.” Though the men in the room only stare at him with unconvinced expressions as he smiles innocently right back.

You stifle a laugh at their reactions and begin to turn to leave, “we’ll be leaving then,” at this you turn to stare at each one of them, “while I’m gone. Behave.”

Taehyung scoffs, crossing his arms as he plops back down on your couch, “We’re not children Y/n.” But his pout tells you otherwise.

The corners of your lips quirk upward in amusement, “could’ve fooled me.”

He turns to you with an offended expression, mouth wide open and before he could give you a piece of his mind, you scurry out the door with Hoseok tailing right behind you.

“Y/n!” You hear Taehyung’s voice yells out as he appears by the doorway in a matter of seconds.

You turn around and almost laugh at his dumbfounded expression. Though, you nearly trip over your own two feet if it weren’t for Hoseok skillfully reaching out and steadying you. You quickly thank him before looking back towards your door to now find the rest of the men staring back at you.

“We’ll set up a proper meeting tomorrow! See you boys then!” You call out before you’re reaching for Hoseok’s hand. He widens his eyes for a moment staring down at your joined hands before he feels you pull on him in the direction you were running to.

You could still hear their protests coming from your bedroom as both you and Hoseok run away. But Hoseok can’t help but be more focused on your angelic laughter over everything else.

“So what did the general want to talk to me about so badly that he wanted us to be alone?” you say finally after creating a fair enough distance from your bedroom.

From the corner of your eye, you see him smirk, “What makes her majesty think I had ulterior motives?” he asks innocently, his pace matching with yours as you both walk down the quiet halls.

You shake your head with a smile, “because you’re Hoseok,” you reply with a teasing glint in your eye.

Hoseok lets out an offended noise as he dramatically brings his hand to his chest, “That hurts your majesty,” he pouts, “couldn’t I have just wanted to spend some time with you?”

You laugh at this, “Sure, but you and I both know that that’s not the case,” your mouth forming a smile, an attempt to show him you meant no harm.

Hoseok finally lets the innocent facade fall as a smirk begins to form on his face, “Our empress sure has a sharp mind,” you hum in reply, prompting him to continue speaking, “you’re right, I did want to talk to you.”

Though after some time walking in silence, he speaks up again, “But I had nothing in particular to talk to you about, I just wanted to see for myself whether you had truly changed or not,” he responds bluntly.

“Your verdict?” you question with your arms behind your back, a carefree aura surrounding you.

“Hard to tell for now,” he teases with a wink in your direction, “however, something tells me it won’t be long before I give you my answer your majesty.”

“Well let’s hope it’s an answer we both will like,” a wide optimistic grin now on your face.

Hoseok stares down at you, giving you a small smile in return, “Yes, let’s hope.”

You two don’t speak for a while, though you can’t say it was awkward. There was a comfortable air between the two of you that you actually didn’t mind walking together in silence. You took this moment to look around the scenery, admiring the window view as you don’t really have much time to do that since Taehyung, Jungkook and even Jimin would often preoccupy your attention, not that you were complaining about their company, you rather enjoyed talking to them. But you can’t help but be grateful for this moment to yourself. So for the time being, you just look out the window, little did you know, Hoseok was staring right at you.

Hoseok couldn’t help but admire the way the sunlight glows on your skin as if you were an ethereal being. Even the slight quirk of your lips mesmerizes him as he watches you bask in the sunlight. A picture perfect moment that he desperately tries to ingrain in his mind.

“You know, you’re more than welcome to address me by my name as well Hoseok,” you suddenly speak out, turning your head causing the male to widen his eyes momentarily at your abrupt attention.

But Hoseok’s eyes soften, giving you a small smile before turning his head straight in front of him yet again, “I’ll keep that in mind... thank you.”

Neither of you speak again after that, just enjoying each other's company in silence. And after everything that you’ve been through, you didn’t realize that this was exactly what you needed.

“Hey Yoongs”

The man hums, his eyes closed as he lays comfortably against the grass right beside Y/n.

“You’ll be with me forever right?” the young girl speaks up after some time.

At this, Yoongi opens his eyes as he stares at the far away look in her eyes, “Of course Y/n, where else would I go?” he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “why do you ask?”

She shrugs looking straight up at the passing clouds, “just making sure,” the wind softly breezing against her hair.

Yoongi nervously laughs as he turns away from her, “Sorry, but it’s gonna take a lot more for you to get rid of me,” Y/n chuckles at this causing the corners of his lips to curve upward at the sound. “Unless I got it all wrong. You’re not trying to run away from me once you become empress are you?” he questions with a teasing tone. Though he had a smile on his face, he couldn’t deny the feeling of anxiety at the possibility of her leaving him.

She scoffs before turning away, “Of course not, what would I do without you nagging me all the time, you’re practically my brother at this point.”

Yoongi feels a pang go across his heart as he faces away from her, “... right… you just see me as a brother huh,” he mumbles, more so to himself but she could still slightly hear him.

She tilts her head in his direction, “hm?”

Though he just shakes his head, “Nevermind,” now sporting a more cheerful expression as he nudges her shoulder playfully, “so suddenly I’m your brother huh?”

She nods her head, turning away from him, focusing her attention back to the sky, “Of course you are, what else would you be?” she genuinely asks.

Yoongi stills for a moment before responding with a long sigh, “Nothing,” he pauses, watching the clouds pass by both him and her as they lay on the grass in peace, “absolutely nothing.”

“Her majesty told me about it and left the job to me,” Jin responds in a tired voice as he lets out a sigh. If he had known accepting the empress’s orders would lead to this, he would’ve never done so in the first place. Because not only does he need to deal with a pile of work, but also a very pissed off Yoongi.

“Why would she give you all the work and not me?” Yoongi asks, tone slightly offended and irritated.

“I don’t know Yoongi, why don’t you just ask her yourself,” Jin replies tiredly as he massages his temple at his growing headache. It’s not that he wanted to get rid of Yoongi, but because he himself couldn’t provide him an answer to his question. He too couldn't understand why Y/n would give him all the work instead of him, frankly he wishes she would divide up the work evenly but alas, that doesn’t seem to be the case as every inch of his desk is nearly covered in piles of documents.

Yoongi lets out a huff of air before standing abruptly. Jin stares at him and widens his eyes when he notices that he’s about to leave. Nervously he stands from his seat as well, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to ask her myself,” Yoongi replies as if it was the most obvious answer, his hand reaching for the door handle.

Jin gasps, “I wasn’t being serious!” he moves around his desk to grab hold of the advisor.

But Yoongi shakes his head, stepping back from his reach, “I know you weren’t, but you’re right. If I want change to happen, I need to go to her myself,” he watches concern wash over the older male before placing a hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry, I won’t lose my cool,” he says in an attempt to reassure him.

Though both Yoongi and Jin knew he was lying. He was just telling him what he wanted to hear. Jin wanted to stop him, but in the end, he lets it go since he knows that once Yoongi’s got his mind set on something, it was nearly impossible to get him out of it, ”fine, but I don’t want to hear about you getting sent to the dungeons again Yoongi.”

Though Yoongi only chuckles, “I won’t get angry, don’t stress about.”

And boy was he wrong, because it hasn’t even been 10 minutes that he walked into her office until hell broke loose.

“Just let them handle it Yoongi, why are you so upset, I’ve given you plenty of work before,” she barks angrily.

“I’m upset, because you never give me the same amount of work as them!” He snaps back at her, tone equally as harsh.

She nearly growls at his attitude, “Would you relax Yoongi, it’s just pieces of paper! If I had known you’d get so fucking irritated over it I would’ve sent the entire pile to you if that’s what you really wanted!”

That’s not what he wanted. He wanted her attention, her trust, he wanted to be the first person she sought out when she needed help.

He wanted her.

“Y/n-” he gets interrupted when Y/n grabs a pile of documents and throws it in the air in front of him. He watches as the pieces of paper float down everywhere in the room, making it look as if a tornado wrecked havoc in the area.

“Here! Just do it all for all I care, they’re just damn pieces of papers anyway,” Y/n growls tiredly. Yoongi could not have come at the worst time. Not only did she have to deal with a raging headache, but now her own advisor was yelling in her face far too early in the morning for it to be tolerable.

She could feel her head ringing at the volume of his voice, but when she told him to leave as she wasn’t in the best mood to argue, he kept refusing stubbornly, insisting she listen to his complaints because apparently what he needed to say was so important to go against her orders. And so when she realized his important reasoning was because he was upset over his workload, her anger only rose from there.

With her already sour mood, him snapping back at her surely didn’t help his case either.

“I have way too much shit to deal with right now, don’t add onto it Yoongi,” she spats loudly, the piles of paper covering nearly the entirety of the floor around them.

His shoulder drops, finally coming to terms with everything as he stared into the once cheerful eyes narrow dangerously into tiny slits.

The girl before him, was never and will never be his.

For the past few days, Yoongi had been actively avoiding not only you, but everyone else. No matter how hard they tried, neither Namjoon or Jin could reach out to him. It was almost as if Yoongi somehow knew just when and where everyone would be to successfully avoid them.

In the beginning of the empresses reign, no one took him seriously because he wasn’t from noble descent like Namjoon and Jin. when they would attend national council meetings, no one spoke directly to him as if his previous status of a commoner was still intact. And so he had to put on this whole ruthless persona for people to show an ounce of respect for him. He had to exert more effort to prove to everyone that he was equally as worthy as the other two advisors. That he was capable of doing the same amount of work, even if he didn't receive the same strenuous education as them.

And because of the comparison between him and the other two advisors, insecurities were born and shattered his mind.

So seeing you put your trust in Jin and Namjoon hurt him a lot more than he would like to admit. The fact that they both knew and yet you hadn’t brought it up with him once was like a shot to his heart.

And yet throughout his time spent alone, Taehyung's voice echoes in his mind.

“When was the last time you ever treated her as one of her advisors? When have you ever truly cared for her majesty?”

He groans out of frustration at the entire situation. Because as much as he hated to admit it, he was right. When was the last time he treated her with respect. Even though the rest of the boys joined the rebellion with him, never once did they blatantly disrespect the empress the way he did.

And with the current situation, he doesn’t even think he deserves his position of advisor anymore. Never in his life did he imagine that someone was drugging the empress. All this time, he’s been bitterly blaming the empress about the current condition of the empire when in reality, it wasn’t even her fault. He pushed her away when she needed him the most. When she was suffering he unknowingly made things worse. And because of that, he doesn’t even know if he has the courage to face the empress ever again.

Yoongi freezes when he hears a tentative knock at his door. Slowly, he raises his head from his hands before responding in a loud tired voice, “who is it?” ready to curse out the person on the other side of the door.

“It’s me hyung.”

Yoongi widens his eyes at the familiar voice that he can’t help but rise from his seat. He carefully walks over and finally opens the door to reveal Jimin’s figure standing before him. For a moment, the two men stand opposite of each other in silence.

“I need to talk to you,” Jimin finally says. Yoongi nods and steps aside for him to enter, still in complete disbelief that he wanted to speak to him after everything that’s been said between the two in the past month.

As if reading his mind, Jimin turns to him with an uncertain smile, “You’re probably wondering why I'm here,” Yoongi only nods, unable to produce words at this point. Jimin stops at the center of his office before continuing, “I know we’re going through a rough patch right now, but at the end of the day, you’re still someone that I deeply care about. You’re my brother and I’m just worried about how you’re taking the situation,” he explains with a nervous expression.

Yoongi’s eyes soften, of course they weren’t on good terms at the moment, but Jimin was right, at the end of the day, they’re brothers. He could never truly hate or get mad at him, or any of them for that matter unless they truly betrayed him.

Jimin wasn’t certain this would be a good idea, unsure how the older male would react to his presence. And so when he hears Yoongi let out a chuckle, although not so enthusiastically, that alone causes Jimin to visibly relax.

Just then, Yoongi lets out a long sigh, “I’ll be honest, I feel like shit. But I know she’s probably going through it way harder than I am,” he finally replies as he rolls his neck.

Jimin nods, “I’m sure she is,” he mutters looking away.

Though Yoongi raises a brow, Jimim’s tone almost hinting at the fact that he doesn’t know about your feelings which was surprising to Yoongi since he knows how close he is to you. At that realization he furrowed his brows, “you haven’t spoken to her, have you?”

Jimin seems to stiffen at his claim, he contemplated lying but knew the older male would see right through him anyway, and so he just shakes his head, “no I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

Jimin lets out a low chuckle, “I wasn’t able to keep a promise with her,” he answers softly, running his fingers through his hair.

Now Yoongi was even more confused than before, he wanted to ask more questions but felt like now wouldn’t be the right time based on the downcasted look on the younger man's face. And so he only nods in return. Though Jimin’s lips quirk up, grateful that he doesn’t push the topic further.

Jimin leans against the back of his couch, crossing his arms, “I saw you that day,” he added, wanting to change the subject. “The day at the ball,” he clarifies when he saw the puzzled look on Yoongi’s face.

“You attended the ball?”

Jimin shakes his head, “no I was watching from above, her majesty wanted me to be her ‘eyes in the sky’, or something like that,” he pauses before chuckling, “she’s been saying some strange things recently.”

Rather than laughing along with him, Yoongi can’t help but feel annoyed, “Of course you fucking knew about it, too,” he mutters furiously under his breath.

Jimin widens his eyes at his sudden harsh tone, “Pardon?”

Yoongi scoffs, now stomping his way to his desk, “The empress told you of her plans,” Yoongi uttered with resentment, “everyone but me.”

And as if the world wanted to continue mocking him, here you appear through the open door, with Hoseok right beside you. You freeze in your spot, when you realize Jimin, who was now staring at you like a deer in headlights, was also present in the room. Despite his surprise, he bows out of respect. Though you can’t say the same about Yoongi.

“What are you doing here,” Yoongi curses at himself, he didn’t mean to take his anger out on you. You just happened to arrive at a bad time.

Though his cold icy tone doesn’t deter you in the slightest, “I came to inform you that we’ll be holding a meeting tomorrow,” you explain hesitantly, careful not to say the wrong thing to aggravate him even more.

He raises a brow in doubt, “you came here to personally tell me?”

You nod, “the rest of the men wanted to have a meeting regarding the situation, but I didn’t want to attend if you weren’t present.”

Yoongi scoffs, “I'm not some charity case.” Although, Yoongi can’t deny the warm feeling in his chest from what you said.

You stop, taken aback from his words, “Is that what you think you are?” you pause before continuing, “Why do you think you became one of the empress’s advisors?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at this, “Because you think of me as a brother,” he spats bitterly.

“No, it’s because you’re one of the few people I trust most in this world, I know we had a bumpy road getting here, but you have to believe me when I say that I trust you,” you insist as you take a step closer into the room.

Though your statement seemed to have ignited a fire in him as he snaps his head to you with narrowed eyes, “If you trust me so much then why didn’t you let me know about this entire situation?!” You jump back at his tone, surprised by how angry he got.

Hoseok steps forward in an instant, “Hyung I had no idea about the drugs either,” he blurts out, trying to dissipate the tension in the room as he moves to stand in between you and Yoongi.

Jimin nods in confirmation, shifting his body to stand protectively in front of you as well, “he’s right hyung, Hoseok also had no idea what was going on.”

“That may be true, but she still sought your help, no? She needed military strength, she needed someone to hide in the shadows and she went to you two,” he snaps at them. Hoseok shuts his mouth, unable to form words to counter his claim.

Though it’s not like Yoongi was going to let anyone else speak, not until he was finished, “Where do I come into play? Jin hyung and Namjoon helped with the plan, Jimin looked out for you from above, Hoseok provided the military strength, Jungkook and Taehyung came as your escorts. But what about me?” At this point, Yoongi paces around the room frantically, you try to reach out to him but he jumps back as if your touch would burn him.

“Why am I always in last place!” He yells at the top of his lungs, “Is it because I wasn’t born into high nobility like Jin hyung? Is it cause I’m not some fucking genius like Namjoon? Or as handsome as Jungkook and Taehyung. Or as confident as Jimin. Or as reliable as Hoseok?” He continues his rant when everyone is too stunned to react.

“Yoon-”

“Why am I never good enough for you!” He shouts, slamming his fist hard on his desk. The room becomes silenced in an instant. The only sounds coming from the broken advisor standing before you.

“Am I not enough?” He sniffles, his voice cracking as he stumbles, grabbing hold of the corner of the table to stabilize himself. He bows his head low, an attempt to hide the tears forming in his eyes.

You turn to look at Jimin and Hoseok, giving them a solemn look as you nod your head in the direction of the door, wanting to speak to him privately.

They seem to understand your gesture as they begin to silently make their way out of the room. Although Jimin hesitates for a moment standing by the doorway. He takes one last look at Yoongi and back to you, his expression unreadable before finally closing the door behind him.

At the click of the door, you turn your head back to Yoongi, your eyes focused solely on him. Carefully, you take slow steps towards him, you don't know if he notices but if he did he didn’t take any further steps away from you. “Yoongi, you are more than enough for me, you have to believe me,” you urge as you stop a few feet away from him. Careful to not overwhelm and crowd around his space.

His silence urges you to continue, “I just felt like you didn’t want anything to do with me so I gave you your space,” you explain softly, “But you’re still one of my advisors, I should’ve communicated with you better on the situation. I'm sorry.”

You take a few experimental steps towards him, assessing his reaction carefully because if you saw any indication that he was uncomfortable by the distance, you would step away immediately. But he gave you none. Even when you were now standing in front of him, he didn’t make an effort to move away. Instead, he finally lifts his head, holding your stare as his tears now running down his face.

You don’t know what got over you, but at the sight of his tears, you find yourself reaching your hand out until they cup his face gingerly. His breath hitches when your hand caresses his cheek, your fingers wiping away the seemingly never-ending tears.

“Yoongi, you’re more than enough for me,” you repeat softly as you stare into his eyes. Almost mesmerized as his glossy eyes shined back at you making it look as though you were staring at the night sky.

You lean your body forward until your arms wrap around his shoulders, bringing him into a tight hug, “I’ll always need you,” you say in a soft whisper. But no matter how quiet you were, he heard you loud and clear.

He sucks in a breath as a sob escapes his mouth. He doesn’t try to fight you, instead, he wraps his arms around your waist instantly, tightening his grip around your body.

But instead of calming down, his sobs grow louder at the feel of your body against his.

Concerned, you try to pull away but Yoongi only tightens his grip around you as he shakes his head.

“Don’t,” he whimpers softly, clutching onto you tighter as if you would slip away forever, “please don’t leave me. Not yet,” he cries out. Your heart nearly shattering at the sound of his voice cracking.

Your eyes soften as you once again relax in his arm, your hands rubbing his back reassuringly as he continues to cry, his tears falling onto the nape of your neck. “I won’t,” you soothe gently, “I won’t leave you Yoongi.”

He sniffles once more, “You’re really back?”

You don’t have it in you to respond with a straight answer. You just couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him like that, especially in his current state. Lying to his face knowing that the empress he knew was no longer the owner of this body. That you were a completely different person, but who in their right mind would believe you.

So instead, you nod softly, reaching a hand to run through his hair. His tears stream down his face as he chokes back a cry at the feel of your nod.

You smile bitterly, as you have to keep reminding yourself, the girl he loves isn’t you, it’s the empress. He’s not crying for you, he’s crying for her.

You had seen this coming, but it still hurt a lot more than you had expected. The world for some reason just wouldn’t stop being cruel to you.

A young man approaches the darkly lit room slowly, the only source of light being the fireplace that’s barely holding onto life as it seems as though it’s about to die out at any moment.

“Master, I’ve come with urgent news,” the boy announced, news so important he fidgets in his spot nervously as he anticipates his reaction. It’s silent in the room, the only sound coming from the crackling of the fire as the wood burns.

There, sat in front of a large window was the boy’s master, he had not turned around to face him, instead, opting to stare up at the moon as it shines brightly down on him, “Speak,” he commands in a dominating voice.

The boy nods his head, “We received a report confirming the death of Grand Duke Lee Joong-gu as well as Sir Taehyung, Sir Jungkook, and Sir Jimin stepping down from the rebellion.”

The man hums, immensely intrigued by the sudden news, “and the others?”

The boy shakes his head, “there have been no reports being made of the others stepping down as of this moment master, though many speculate it’s just a matter of time at this point.”

The man bellows loudly at that, as he leans back comfortably in his chair, his eyes shining with mirth, “I told that damn duke not to get too greedy and look what happened. He got caught,” he scoffs as he turns fully around, hands crossed on his desk as he traces the letter he had received from the late grand duke a mere few weeks ago in a bored manner, “Seems what that fool said was of concern after all, her majesty has truly changed.”

The boy nods, “What do you suggest we do now?”

He turns back around, admiring the night sky, “tell my men to continue keeping an eye on her majesty. And report everything to me.”

The boy bows, “yes master,” he responds before turning away, ready to inform those of the new orders.

“Well I’ll be damned,” the man whistles as he leans back on his chair, “so you truly did succeed in changing the story,” he chuckles and with a dangerous glint he stares up at the moon, “I can’t wait to meet you, new empress.”

A/N: Hey guys!! I’m so sorry for taking so long to upload this chapter, I had to focus on my final exams and all the assignments my professors piled on me at the end of the semester. So I tried to finish this chapter as fast as I could!

I hope you’re all happy with how things went in this chapter. Also sorry for all the drama, I just felt like it would be better for the reader and Yoongi to make up instead of making more chapters of them avoiding each other when they could just communicate about their feelings.

Thank you everyone for supporting and reading my story! I also love receiving all your kind messages so thank you so much for that!

And as always, I hope you have a wonderful day!!

Tagslist: (those in bold, I’m not sure if it worked for you, I’m really sorry, I’m not sure how to fix it) (I also apologize if I forgot to add someone, just comment again and I promise to add you in the next one!!)

@reallysparklychaos, @unknownsageking, @casspirit0705, @fangirl125reader, @silscintilla, @serefara29, @chimtaesty-main, @xxqueenwxtchxx, @diamonddia-mond, @vishakhas-world, @purelyecstacy, @resticou, @woopetals, @magicsweetener, @splaterparty0-0, @daydreambrliever, @strangeobjectmaker, @luna-xial, @m0chilattae, @celaenaelentiyavox, @lindsayjoy444, @layzfeelit, @kimsaerom, @songtiddies, @untamedgrape, @sonnymii, @moonssuga, @kassandravictoria, @galaxyflab, @blank-et-noir, @nynhope , @midnight1199, @yessii-i, @protontippens, @gguktings, @borahebangtan, @katkrusade, @handsupanddropthepotato, @missseoulite, @cellula-staminale, @red-bow-tie3, @whateveritis616, @ggukkieland, @sbroces, @nnessworls, @yoonieebear

#poly bts #poly!bts #bts au #bts fanfic #isekai #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

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baku-bowl · 3 years ago

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broke 1,000 followers (the fuck? I don't even make content people), so decided to write up a list of some (but not all, I'll make other lists later) of my favorite Bakugou-centric fic recs. my tastes run towards hurt/comfort, as you'll probably figure from the list. if there are some Baku-centric fics that you've enjoyed that aren't on here, please add them - this is definitely not a complete list of the ones I've read and love, but I'm always up for some recs. <3

fair warning, most of these are wips.

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Social Media 101 by WindsChild8178

Part 1: Survival Guide to Fucking Up

[Solely Bakugou’s point of view]

Katsuki Bakugou doesn’t have a gentle bone in his body. He’s aggressive in everything he does and does everything with 100% of his heart in it. After the Sport’s Festival, Katsuki starts to get harassed by strangers for his unheroic demeanor. It starts with letters but it doesn’t end there. The moment Katsuki realizes the harassment has entered dangerous territory and he needs to tell someone, it’s already too late.

Part 2: Post Traumatic Life Disorder

[Point of View opens up to Bakugou, teachers and classmates]

When the Dorms are finally built, everyone is settling in well, but things become tense as people begin to realize something isn’t right with the recently rescued Bakugou.

[Cannon compliant right up to after the License Exam]

hands down my favorite fic in the fandom right now. it’s the one that converted me into a Bakugou lover. if you have any fondness for Bakugou as a character then it’s likely you’ve read this one already, but if not, I can’t recommend it enough. incredibly depressing, but with the hope that comfort is coming soon in the next few chapters.

The Kids Will Be Alright, Eventually by NotWithThatAttitude

Bakugou is spiraling in the aftermath of Kamino and his friends are starting to notice. He's stubborn, aggressively independent, and less than willing to dig into his past, but after a breakdown that ends with a painful secret revealed, he starts to get help.

Whether he likes it or not.

Meanwhile, a new kind of villain threatens an uneasy peace following the loss of Allmight. Whispers build as a new narrative slowly takes shape:

Hero society needs to change.

Feat. Therapy, Dadzawa, best boy Kirishima, dysfunctional families, healing, growing up, and the mortifying ordeal of being known

guys.. the medical accuracy of this fic is just... *chef’s kiss*

I rarely see mental health genuinely handled well in fics, but this one goes above and beyond. kudos to the author for doing such excellent research into psychology, and making the application of it in here not-boring. also, while this one does have abusive!Mitsuki, it’s done in a way that feels realistic, and how I usually will see it occur in real life, rather than just for the hurt/comfort feels.

fair warning, the fic can be incredibly triggering (themes of severe depression, PTSD, panic attacks, rape survival, abuse survival, suicidal ideation/attempted suicide, among other things), so be safe and heed the tw’s if you decide to read. legitimately one of my Top Favorite fics in this fandom.

Lock and Key by autochorystalize

Bakugou made a choked, gravelly noise before croaking out a low, “You can’t be serious.” His fingers ached to blow up everything in the room.

“I’m sorry, young man, but you can’t change reality! This sometimes happens.” Recovery Girl clicked through his file, adding a new symbol in a previously empty slot.

- - -

A pair of eyes discreetly locked on to an explosive blond plowing his way forward, parting people in his path. He recognized the kid, of course. Anyone in the underbelly of society would recognize him, after the publicity of both UA’s Sports Festival and the events leading up to All Might’s fall. The uniform he was wearing cast away any doubts about the young man’s identity.

It was a bit of a surprise that the little firecracker presented as an omega.

- - - - - - - - -

Or: there are certain types of evil that seemed too distant, archaic violations and perversions that would never actually threaten bright-eyed heroes-in-training in the clean, modern world...but sometimes those evils aren't as distant as one might think.

remember when I said that I love a/b/o fics that are full of plot and world-building and gender-induced tension? that’s this one. the OC’s are fabulous and you love to hate ‘em. also, it’s the fic that made me fall head-over-heels for the TodoBaku dynamic, so it’s got a special place in my cold, dead heart.

be warned, there are rather explicit non-con scenes between an adult (OC) and a minor (Bakugou) in this one, but the author warns for them in advance, and you could likely skip those parts without missing too much if you need to.

Never and Always, Eventually by Wawa_Boonliang

"Katsuki can remember the exact moment that he and Deku…that he and Midoriya Izuku became friends. He can also remember the moment he and Izuku became fierce rivals, a time when they were almost enemies.

However, what he remembers most clearly about their relationship is the moment that they moved passed rivals and became something more close than mere friends. Something more like brotherhood, something forged in fire and secured in the middle of a battlefield or in the midst of natural disaster where the number of the dead was climbing ever higher. And then it was torn from him."

Katsuki is given a second chance. A chance to save everyone. A chance to change everything.

But should he?

y’all. I’m a slutty, slutty whore for time travel fics. a time travel fic with autistic!coded Bakugou? it was love at first read.

Lessons Learned by Sif (Rosae)

Rather than the police station, Katsuki's friends bring him to a hospital after rescuing him from the villains. His wounds were minor, but it didn't make having them treated any less important. As it would so happen, Best Jeanist was also brought to this hospital after the attack.

Sometimes, small choices have a big impact on how a story plays out.

classic Bakugou hurt/comfort. this fic opened me up to the potential that could be a genuinely good Best Jeanist & Katsuki mentor-mentee relationship, and I kind of dig it and search ravenously for it in other fics now. I’m also a huge fan of the behind-the-scences Pro Hero Chat group.

Slope by sunfleurmoon

“I’m not a hero. Or a good person,” Katsuki says, giving Aizawa a pointed look, “So leave me alone. I don’t care about the League or UA, or you—” The two years he’s been away have been fine, more than fine, fucking fantastic actually if you ignore the bi-monthly near-death experiences. He doesn’t need this place. He doesn’t miss this place.

And yet, longing, a childish desire to tear up, or maybe blow something to bits, they all twist in his chest like a band of traitors regardless. “—I just want to go home.”

Or: the one where Katsuki and Izuku fail the first term exam, Aizawa discovers their pasts, and Katsuki is booted from UA. Featuring questionable descriptions of villain organizations, a slightly illegal moving shop, and your favorite emotionally constipated badass in distress with a newly discovered penchant for collecting strays.

paaaaaaiiiiiiiin. the hurt is ALIVE in this one. lots of tortured, angsty exploding child goodness. the OC’s are excellently crafted, and the Bakugou & Eri relationship? beautiful. definitely deserves a read.

Ground Zero by WindsChild8178

In the wake of Kamino, Katsuki is tested more than anyone could imagine. Bound by a villain’s quirk to keep his silence or die, he lives each day knowing it might very well be his last. He continues to work towards becoming a hero, keeping his secret from his classmates and teachers, focusing on making it through each day and trying not to allow the panic or depression to get the best of him. When the villain finally corners him with demands in exchange for his life, there is really only one answer Katsuki Bakugou can give.

honestly don't know which I want updated more - social media 101 or ground zero. this author's fics are amazing, and I really wasn't expecting the twist in this one. can't wait for windschild to come back to this fic some day.

The Defect by LadyGreenFrisbee

"Why do you want to win the Sports Festival so badly?"

Because I want to see if the defect could usurp the masterpiece.

(In which Endeavor holds a terrible secret and Bakugo has to suffer since childhood for it.)

a great concept, and I adore the shouto and Katsuki sibling interaction here. hoping the author will come back to this one some day.

A Name That You'll Remember by Heronfem

Kirishima Eijirou is a Hero. Bakugou Katsuki... is not. Trapped in his toxic workplace and increasingly desperate to get out, Red Riot's days are only brightened by a new villain known as Caution, who's not exactly villainous and keeps accidentally doing good deeds. But when a real villain appears, a threat from the past that demands that Red Riot make the ultimate sacrifice to keep the public safe, Bakugou is forced into saving the day... and eventually, Red Riot himself.

sob story good guy villains are my weakness, this fic is a gem, and I'd kill for the sequel.

Our Hero by AnonymousTwit

He felt everything jerk to the side and throw his balance off before he saw anything, dust clouding his vision and irritating his lungs as the earth itself opened up to swallow them whole. For a single moment, in a millisecond's time, his wild eyes locked with Raccoon Eyes', hers alight with fear and adrenaline-fueled desperation. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that it was the first time she'd looked at him with something other than long-deserved hatred in days.

And then he was free falling.

After a particularly nasty encounter between childhood friends, the class learns about Bakugou and Midoriya's dark history and practically ostracizes Bakugou while trying to defend Midoriya. An earthquake during an outing has all sides regretting their decisions.

just fucking tear apart my self-sacrificing faves in every way imaginable while their loved ones watch on in terror. 💖🥰💖 this one is heavy on the Bakusquad and Class-1A feels, and VERY heavy on the Mina & Bakugou relationship (platonic).

Running back the tape, watching it replay by Faralyne

For someone ripped from their time, ripped from the few but strong relationships built by time and personal development, by self-reflection and swallowed pride, ripped from the one thing that made him feel worthwhile and needed and put-together, and forced to forge everything over again—Katsuki thinks he is handling it pretty fucking well.

A villain’s quirk sends a 29-year-old Bakugou back in time to his middle school days.

am I a sucker for time travel? yes. am I a sucker for vigilante!bakugou? also yes. am I a sucker for this fic? literally refreshing the page in wait for an update as we speak.

Liability by sandelf

After All-Might dies rescuing Bakugou from the League, Bakugou is determined to prove it wasn't for nothing.

But the world is against him, his grief is overwhelming, and his stability is splitting at the edges.

very self-indulgent bakugou angst. tw for harassment, severe depression, and suicidality.

Special Mentions:

How To Win The Sport Festival: A Step By Step Guide by mhwright

Short re-imagining of the Sports Festival Arc if Shinso had planned a little better and worked a little harder to win the Sports Festival and if the match-ups had been slightly different. Self-indulgent fic of watching him succeed.

this is completely Shinsou-centric, not Bakugou-centric, but I love and adore it and am dying for a sequel. Shinsou is Best Boy here and you'll be rooting for him the whole time.

#fic rec #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #seriously though if you have a rec for me please always assume i will be unbearably grateful for it #and hit me up with it in the comments or through messaging #thanks for the follows y'all!

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nat-20s · 3 years ago

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Wonderful! Au Part 7! (also on ao3 here) another episode only installment, and obnoxiously fluffy! Have fun!

~*~

Martin, tired: Hello everybody! Welcome, or welcome back, to a very low energy episode. We have had, as the kids say, A Week Tm.

Jon, equally tired, but fond: Is that as the kids say?

Martin: I don't know, and perhaps worse, I don't really care. I guess I could ask Jeremiah next time he's over, but I'm not sure if that would actually help.

Jon: Shockingly, I don't think two year olds have their finger on the beating pulse of youth culture.

Martin: Hmm, maybe not. Speaking of Jeremiah, he's part of why the format of this episode is gonna be a bit different than our regular. On top of me dealing with a frankly obscene amount of inventory management, and Jon being swamped with grant writing-

Jon: I never want to look at proposal guidelines again-

Martin: we were on babysitting duty for our favourite neighborhood hellion-

Jon: Hey, Jeremiah is a very sweet kid! I know he's a toddler, but we shouldn't be slandering him anyway.

Martin: One, we're not even using his real name, I don't think that counts as slander, and two, exactly, he's a toddler, he's by default a hellion.

Jon, teasing: This coming from the person that actually wants one?

Martin: I..look, if anything, the last few days have shown we should not be permanent parents.

Jon: But?

Martin:...There's no but.

Jon: I don't believe you! Are you lying for my benefit or the audience's? Because someone spent the last five days wearing one of the largest grins I've ever seen, exhausted as it may have been.

Martin: Okay! Fine, I admit, I liked having a kid around. I still think it would be a bad idea to do it full time, but I dunno. I wish we weren't both only children or something. We would make such good uncles.

Jon: Should I should have taken that teaching job after all?

Martin: Perhaps. After all,

Martin, singsong: An English teacher, is really someone!

Jon and Martin, singing together: If only you, had be-come one!

Jon: Honestly, though, I was considerably underqualified. I'm much more suited to my current job, even if it doesn't have quite the same impact on the "shaping of the next generation" or whatnot.

Martin: Wait, you actually care about qualifications now? When did that change?

Jon: This coming from Mister "master's degree in parapsychology"? And it was probably around the time that the world ended from taking on a workload I was ill-suited for.

Jon:...

Jon: Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Martin: Oh, of course. Definitely nothing literally apocalyptic in our pasts, no siree, nothing to see or speculate about or make weirdly involved forums for here. Uh, anyway, long introduction not so short: Both of us have been averaging about 4 hours of sleep, so any sort of actual research was not on the table.

Jon: If any of you are wondering why we didn't just say that we're both very much worn out and thus we'll be taking a week off, it's because we're both deeply, deeply stubborn.

Martin: It's one of our best shared qualities that has never caused any conflict between us, ever.

Jon: In fairness, sheer stubbornness does account for, what, 75% of the reason that either of us are still alive? And it hasn't caused a major conflict between us in a good three years.

Martin: That's true. We've become a deeply boring, relatively conflict free couple. Which fucking rules, by the way. To all the couples out there: I highly recommend being boring. It is so nice. We've gotten to go to the farmer's market so many times.

Jon: You do love the farmer's market. I would say that it's the access to fresh produce, but I think you just like the attention that one yarn seller gives you. Can't believe you would take advantage of a crush to get discounts on wool. How did I marry such an opportunist?

Martin: Ollie does not have a crush on me. They're just friendly to everyone.

Jon: Bullshit. I certainly never get an extra skein or stitch markers or delicate fabric cleaner tossed in my bag. Actually, I think I've been charged more for committing the crime of having married you before they could.

Martin: I'm..70% sure that's not true, but every sentence we speak, we stray further from even pretending to be on topic. So, to everybody listening, this is the itty bitty episode! Basically, we're only doing small wonders and user submissions. If you want details or backstory for things we like, too bad, come back next week. Jon, I believe you're first this week?

Jon: Oh, right. My first small wonder is cat names.

Martin: Delightful, but unsurprising. Though, I would've expected either more or less specificity. Why cat names as opposed to pet's names in general, or, like, military title names?

Jon: Well that's simple enough. I've simply never met a misnamed cat, even if the name itself wasn't to my personal tastes, and I think that speaks to the wonderful universality of cats.

Martin: This, of course, implies that you have met animals that were misnamed.

Jon: Oh, I have. I once met a papillion dog named Meatball.

Martin: Now I know you don't like food names in general for pets, but are you sure that Meatball didn't suit the dogs personality? I've known some "Meatballs" in my lifetime.

Jon, only half-mock offended: Of course it didn't fit, Martin. She was a lady. A nervous, jittery lady, but a lady nonetheless.

Martin, laughing: And what, you've never met a dignified cat with an undignified name, or vice versa? Would you be okay with our cat being named Meatball?

Jon: I would be upset if our cat was named Meatball, because we named her and we're above that sort of thing, but, technically speaking, she could have been Meatball in another lifetime and it wouldn't have been wrong. You see, all cats are a mix of both extremely austere and little baby idiot.

Martin: Oh, is that the scientific terminology?

Jon: It is. Now, while there's probably some amount of, er, normative determinism or confirmation bias or something that results in a cat with a more dignified name seeming to possess more of that austerity, as all cats have both, any name can, potentially, fit. Hence why it's wonderful.

Martin: I..accept your proposal for now, but I think more research needs to be done. Maybe we should visit the shelter this weekend and test your hypothesis.

Jon: Hmm. I think we may need to visit multiple shelters, actually. A large sample size is necessary for any sort of veracity, obviously.

Martin, imitating Jon tone: Obviously.

Jon: Glad you agree. What's your first small wonder?

Martin: Tofu!

Jon: I..didn't realize you liked that much?

Martin: Well, I don't get it very often since I know you can't stand the texture, even though it is not like 'worse scrambled eggs', and you're a horrible food thief-

Jon: Lies and slander. We readily share. If I'm a horrible food thief, you have committed the exact same, if not worse, crime as myself.

Martin: Well, we are thick as thieves.

Jon, groaning: You're thick as something alright

Martin: Rude! My beloved husband-

Jon: -uh huh-

Martin: whom I love and trust with my most tender of hearts-

Jon: -an oddly cannibalistic turn of phrase-

Martin, badly suppressing laughter: Oh, my god. I want a divorce, then I can put tofu in as many dishes as I like. I'll triple my protein intake.

Jon: It'd never go through. I'll burn the papers. No, wait, I'll burn down the legal offices where the papers are kept.

Martin: Hmm. While my experiences with it have been, uh, varied to say the least, I do have to admit that arson is one of the more attractive crimes of passion. I suppose I'll take you back.

Jon, flat: I'm so very grateful.

Jon, genuine: You do have yet to actually tell me why you think tofu is wonderful, love.

Martin: It's just a good food! It's neutral enough that you can toss it in pretty much anything with a sauce, you can bake it, you can fry it, whatever. Plus it's what? two? Three quid? I spent many years of my life living off the cheapest, saltiest approximation of noodles you could imagine, and half a pack of tofu, a little bit of sesame oil, and some green onions went a long way to both making it more filling and less sad.

Martin: Plus, I feel like it often gets decried for being something it's not? It's so often viewed as a meat substitute or the vegan alternative option, and so when people try it, they often go in with a false preconceived notion of what it's going to be like, and then end up disappointed. They're all like, 'ugh, this doesn't taste like turkey!' and yeah, of course it doesn't. It's the oatmeal raisin cookie of the protein world, a perfectly good and tasty treat on its own, but if you want chocolate chip, it's not gonna work.

Jon: Martin you don't even like oatmeal raisin. I'm the only one that ever eats them out of the multipacks.

Martin: Well, yeah, but I don't like oatmeal raisin because of its flavor, not because I think it should be chocolate chip and fails. It illustrates my point. Also, just for balance, is your next small wonder oatmeal raisin cookies?

Jon: No, though, maybe one of these weeks. They are good. But no, um, my next small wonder is being married.

Martin, let out a high bark of a laugh: Being married is a small wonder?!

Jon: Small wonders doesn't mean a lack of importance! Or even significance in our lives. Half the time we even end up spending just as much time chattering on about them as the things we actually research. But, yes, I didn't feel like researching the concept of being married. For one, a lot of the history of it is depressing and patriarchal, and for two, it's not something I really feel any need to elaborate on. Being married. I very much enjoy it. I recommend it for anybody that's found someone that they want to marry, and who wants to marry them. I really recommend being married to Martin Blackwood, I think I would enjoy it significantly less if it was to anybody else, but one: we typically try to make the wonderful things in this show applicable to more than just ourselves, and two: I got there first, so I believe the appropriate thing to say here would be; neener neener and/or everyone else can go suck it, Ollie.

Martin: Well...

Jon: Well, what?

Martin: Saying you got there first is technically not true-

Jon: What?!

Martin, laughing like a bastard: Sorry, sorry! Couldn't resist! Jon, you already know that you're my first real realationship, how would be married before fit that?

Jon: Hence my surprise at the notion! I cannot believe you! I give you my trust, my earnestness, and belief-

Martin [only laughs harder]

Jon: and you throw it in my face for a bit. I take back everything, being married is a nightmare, because sometimes your partner thinks he a fucking comedian and you just have to put up with him because you love him and want to live the rest of your life with him or some such nonsense. Not worth it, if you ask me. My turn to ask for the divorce.

Martin: Babe, hate to break it to you, but both of us are guilty of doing bits that the other doesn't like, it's an integral part of a healthy marriage, and secondly, you knew who I was long before I proposed. You should've said no when you had the chance.

Jon: Hang on, you proposed?

Martin: Yeah? This isn't part of a bit, of course I proposed. I'm even pretty sure you were there. The whole visit back to Scotland trip? I finally made you a sweater and said it was because we would now be immune to the boyfriend curse?

Jon: No, no, I remember all that, but it wasn't the proposal. It was a reaffirmation of the proposal. We had already decided to get married.

Martin: Well, yeah,, I wasn't just gonna spring that on you, we had had conversations beforehand-

Jon: No, I mean, I had already proposed. I asked you to marry me a good three years earlier, and you said yes, which is a proposal by any definition that I know.

Martin: Jon, love, darling, apple of my eye, fire of my soul, I mean this in the nicest way possible, what the everloving fuck are you talking about?

Jon: In the ambulance ride when we, uh, moved here. It was the thing I said to you the second I saw your eyes were open.

[An audible pause is left in the recording.]

Martin: That does not count.

Jon: How does it not count?! I asked you to marry me, you very emphatically said yes, that's the de facto definition of an accepted marriage proposal!

Martin: It doesn't count because you were half-delirious with blood-loss, and I had a traumatic brain injury that the hospital was very surprised I made a full recovery from. No court in the world would consider anything we said then more than pain driven ramblings, let alone, I dunno, contractually binding.

Jon: Well, I knew what I was saying well and clear. Just because it was desperate doesn't mean it wasn't sincere. I didn't realize that you weren't as cognizant when you accepted.

Martin, snorting: Yeah, didn't really need to be cognizant to say yes. I've wanted to marry you since the train ride to Scotland.

Jon: Wait, really? Martin, we hadn't even been on a date.

Martin: And yet we were on the lamb together, which I honestly think is more romantic than sitting in some restaurant somewhere trying to get through icebreakers. Also, back up, from your perspective we've been engaged since 2019? What did you think we were doing in the interim?

Jon: Uhh..

Martin: Yes?

Jon: There are people that have long engagement periods, and it's not exactly like we were in any sort of position to get married for awhile. Especially not that first year.

Martin: Okay? And?

Jon: And..I sort of thought you had changed your mind. For awhile. Was rather surprised that you kept living with me, considering that, on the worst nights, I was convinced you were going to storm off and leave me forever any minute now. Hence why your proposal was rather relieving.

Martin: Oh, Jon, love. That is so very ridiculous, and so very you, and so very close to many of my own fears and doubts. Do you have any idea how terrified I was to float the idea of marriage to you? Half the time I was convinced I was just meant to keep you company until you found someone better. And, Christ, we'd, from your perspective, been engaged the whole damn time. Fuck.

[Jon, after a beat, starts laughing. It has a slightly hysterical edge to it. Martin joins in. It takes a minute for the laughter to subside enough for them to speak again.]

Jon: I'm rapidly realizing that our entire romantic relationship would've been, if not more successful, a hell of a lot faster if we weren't both complete fools.

Martin: You're realizing that now? I think I've known that since the CV incident. I've definitely known it since the Lonely.

Jon, with a slightly tired chuckle:Yes, yes, something probably should've tipped me off earlier. Shockingly, observation of our own personal romantic trends is not always a strong suit of mine.

Jon: Anyway, please tell me you have another small wonder, this has gotten wildly of track.

Martin: Since we're talking about marriage anyway, I think my next small wonder is having a shared reference in your wedding vows. Our friends had "I have been, and always shall be, your friend" in theirs, and I made Jon cry with a slightly altered Lord of the Rings quote in ours.

Jon: First off, we were both openly weeping long before that point, secondly, I defy anybody to have been through half of what we have and then have the love of their life look them in the eyes and tell them "Leave you? I never intend to. I am going with you, if you climb to the moon" without at least tearing up.

Martin: There wasn't a dry eye in the audience, either. Granted, the audience was only 20 people, but that was also literally the only time I've seen Eloise show a strong emotion, so I'm pretty smug about it.

Martin, soft: I still feel exactly the same, you know. If you're climbing to the moon, I'll make sure the rope is strong enough for two.

Jon, soft: I know, love.

Jon: Though, to be fair, the moon is also significantly more pleasant than many places we've been.

Martin: God, I hate how much that's true. Look at this barren, oxygenless rock, at least it's not actively trying to kill us. Practically a honeymoon location.

[Martin sighs]

Martin: I am so tired. Let's do the user submissions then take a very long nap.

Jon: Please.

Martin: So, first submission is from Josie; They find it wonderful getting cards from their friends. They say they're lucky to have so much love in their life and have friends that care enough to send them things. That is wonderful Josie! We have a drawer in our house dedicated to every loving card we've ever received since the move, and they're always such a nice reminder of the people in our lives.

Jon: We should really organize that drawer, but, yes, agree with the sentiment. Even the cards from people that are no longer in our lives are lovely, I think. Those connections are very much meaningful for both of us, whether they're active or not.

Martin: That's very true. Next submission is from Lys, who submits the sound of leaves crunching under your feet in the fall. Ah, that's a classic.

Jon: I just felt myself relax imagining it. I wish it was autumn.

Martin: Don't we all? Alright, for the last submissions, I'm grouping them together as they follow a similar theme. Jadwiga submits the feeling of waking up well into the morning with the sun shining through the window and your cat laying next to you, and Oran submits when a dog falls asleep with its head in your lap.

Jon: I can heartily recommend at least one of those, considering that's how we try to wake up most mornings. The Duchess is a dutiful darling girl who spends every night with us, and she's usually still there when us humans rise.

Martin: I bet you'll agree with the other when I finally convince you to get me a dog for my birthday.

Jon: It hasn't happened yet, so I wouldn't hold your breath.

Martin: But you don't even dislike dogs! You're just as happy to pet them when they pass by as I am.

Jon: Being fine with an animal isn't the same thing as wanting to adopt one for yourself! We don't even know if The Duchess would put up with a dog.

Martin: I bet she would. I bet we could get a big senior dog who's the calmest animal you've ever met with those soft eyes and a little grey on the muzzle and she would cuddle up in an instant. And we did say we should visit a shelter or three this weekend..

Jon: I think you're rather callously taking advantage of my exhausted state, but I suppose we can look.

Martin: Hell fuckin yeah. So, I think that'll close out the episode, and as we always say at the end, uh, go take a nap and get a dog. Not necessarily in that order.

#wonderful! au #jonmartin #tma #jon sims #martin blackwood #my fic #thank you to everyone that submitted!!!#also; i am offically out of ideas for installments #more may come later but i make no promises!

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literallymechanical · 3 years ago

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Well, are you going to fill us in on "why we are morally obligated as a species to some day blow up the Earth"? Sounds like a supervillain backstory

(This was originally inspired by qntm’s fantastic satirical essay, “To Destroy The Earth,” but I disagree with him on a few key points. I highly recommend checking out qntm’s fiction, particularly Ra, Fine Structure, and There Is No Antimemetics Division. Disclaimer: this is a thought experiment, I’m not actually going to destroy the Earth.)

Let us begin with this: you want to destroy the Earth.

That’s not a question or an instruction, that’s an axiom. A fundamental truth from which a logical system is built. It’s your Statement Zero, the singular concept from which the rest of these instructions are built: you want to destroy the Earth. You might not know why, and you certainly don’t know how. Trust me, you really don’t know how. Take all of your cultural knowledge of Death Stars and hyperspace construction crews and throw it out the window, because it’s not worth a clipped penny.

That being said, here are a few reasons to somebody might want to destroy the Earth:

You want to wipe out humanity

You want to wipe out some other species

General misanthropy

It’s obstructing your view of the Moon.

You want us to colonize Mars or Venus, and you figure this is the best way to get everybody on board.

These are bad reasons to destroy the Earth. If any of these sentiments resonate with you, please stop reading this essay. This isn’t for you.

Anyway, let's put a pin in the “why” for now. We'll get to it later. Let's tackle the "how" first.

To destroy the Earth, you need a Plan, with a capital P.

The shape of the Plan is extremely simple to define, much simpler than the relatively detailed (and, in my opinion, fragile) instructions others have outlined. It has just two parts.

Figure out how to destroy the Earth. This is defined as the Earth not being there when you're done—any chump with nuclear weapons can scour the Earth, you're trying to make the entire thing go away.

Destroy the Earth.

However, a lot of shapes are simple to define, but hard to draw. The Mandelbrot set can be defined by a single equation and a couple of instructions, but the result is a fractal. This Plan will be fractally intricate as well. We certainly can’t draw up the full Plan right now. We can barely even begin to draw the outline. Let’s take a quick stab at it anyway.

First of all, I don’t know how to destroy the Earth. We can speculate a bit, but we certainly can’t choose a method yet—you'll likely need multiple redundant strategies anyway. “Blow it up” is one idea, but the gravitational binding energy of the Earth is about 2*10^32 joules, and there is no conceivable technology that can handle that sort of power right now. “Launch bits of it into space one by one until there’s nothing left” sounds promising, though it will take a while. “Mess with its orbit until it’s close enough to the Sun’s Roche limit to get ripped to shreds” is a fun idea. Or maybe in the next million years, you'll come up with a better way.

The most important part of that statement is “the next million years.” It will take a very long time to figure this one out. A million years is a pretty good estimate, though if you'll proactive it might take as little as a couple hundred thousand.

That brings us to the hardest part of the Plan: making sure the Plan survives a million years.

Right now, you're in a precarious position. Climate change probably won’t entirely wipe us out, but it will likely disrupt civilization enough that the Plan will be lost. Nuclear war might actually cause us to go extinct. A killer asteroid certainly would. Therefore, the first thing the Plan needs to do is save the world. Reverse climate change, or at least halt it. Nuclear disarmament. Peace, or as close as we can get to it. Medicine, spaceflight, art, prosperity, happiness, survival—all part of the Plan.

Colonizing other planets, and eventually other solar systems, is also in the Plan. Not just for a backup in case of killer meteor, but also because when you do destroy the Earth, you’ll need somewhere to stand. Remember, you're not trying to wipe out humanity here! Just destroy a planet. This will be tricky. It’s very likely that there’s no such thing as faster-than-light travel, so it will take a while to spread across the galaxy. This might take up the bulk of the million-year timeline.

(Quick note: you may be tempted to conquer the Earth, or set yourself up as some sort of galaxy-spanning God-Ruler. In my personal opinion, this is a bad idea. Right now, empires typically last a couple hundred years before falling. Do you think it would be easier to hold on to multiple planets than just a bit of land around the Mediterranean? I believe that it’s best to have your Plan set up a system where people can survive and thrive without needing you.)

But as tricky as interstellar colonization may be, it’s still the easy part. The hard part is that the entire Plan has to reconstruct itself from scratch if everything goes wrong.

The Plan has to be the most massively redundant, self-repairing, and robust project humanity has ever undertaken, or will ever undertake. The Plan needs to be able to resurrect our entire species on its own, without human intervention, in case something goes wrong (e.g. nuclear war) and we all get wiped out. Here’s one idea: computerize the Humanity Reboot Protocol, stamp the code onto platinum bricks, launch a million copies into deep space and onto every rocky body in the solar system, and have it check back in every once in a while. You can have that one for free.

The Plan also needs to have a way to re-motivate humanity to destroy the Earth. Maybe that’s as simple as posting it to tumblr and having a lot of people read it, but it will probably be a bit more complicated. Crucially, the Plan does not have to be visible. Nobody actually needs to know that the Plan exists, if you’re clever enough. You might be tempted to turn it into a religion, but religions change and die. Remember: the Plan has to eventually pop off, no matter what we do to ourselves.

The Plan is now its own entity, both distinct from and deeply intertwined with humanity.

(As a side note, this begs the question: What if the Plan is already in effect? If it’s a good Plan, we wouldn’t be able to tell. What if some sufficiently motivated creature set things into motion ten thousand or a hundred thousand or a million years ago? Food for thought.)

Alright. So, enough time has passed, and you’ve figured out how to destroy the Earth. I use “you” loosely at this point. Maybe, against all odds, you’ve figured out immortality, or mind-uploading, cloning, whatever. More likely, you’ve been dust for a million years. That’s not important. Regardless, “you” are standing on Mars or wherever and your metaphorical finger is hovering a metaphorical big red button marked “DESTROY THE EARTH.” Step 2 of the Plan.

Let’s pause here and go back to that pin from before: Why? Why are you destroying the Earth?

Well, a lot of reasons. If I were doing this, my Plan would include abandoning the Earth for other star systems and setting it up as some sort of museum. I'd take all the biosphere with me, of course, and make better Earths elsewhere. Imagine a hundred Earths, each of which are perfect nature preserves, or more! Imagine finding a good silica-heavy planet, turning it into molten glass, and sculpting it into something beautiful. Imagine spelling your name in an Oort cloud. Imagine an ocean planet full of whales.

Imagine coming back to a deserted G-type solar system with a few dusty rocks, an asteroid belt, and a handful of gas giants. Imagine breaking them down to make raw materials for a Dyson sphere.

Bam! Earth destroyed! You did it!

Maybe a paleontologist somewhere will figure out that this might be the planet where we first evolved, and it would be nice to put it somewhere safe. Hey, does that count as destroying the Earth? Where the Earth once was, there is now empty space. No more Earth! That sounds pretty destroyed to me. Bam! Earth destroyed! You did it!

Maybe your Plan is different, and the Earth is still inhabited. For what it’s worth, I hope you’ve made it a paradise, one of a thousand Edens across the galaxy. It would be a shame to blow it up… but if Sol-3 is just one paradise among many, what makes it significant? “Earth” is our homeworld, but now there are a thousand homeworlds, so what is “Earth?” What makes this one rock special? Nothing! You’ve successfully destroyed the entire concept of “Earth.” That might be harder than blowing up a planet! Well done! You did it!

In conclusion, here is why I say it’s a moral imperative to destroy the Earth:

Eventually, a baby bird has to leave the nest. Somebody needs to be the mom bird who lures her chicks off the edge, and it might as well be me.

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some-dr-writings · 4 years ago

Text

Affection starved Kokichi x Reader One-shot: Dancing at a Distance

Being with Kokichi Oma was a rather strange experience. You always had company yet after that moment, you feel lonely. You were happy but when looking back on your time together, it was sad. It was an almost surreal experience. Though he was a liar you had no doubt he cared about you and yet…

“Hey, Oma… care to dance with me?” You never knew you could get so many answers from that one simple question, but no matter how he phrased it, no matter how he ‘danced’ around the question, the sentiment was the same. No. You didn’t want to be pushy, but any explanation would have been appreciated, even a fake one, or ‘I just don’t want to’, but he never gave you anything to work with, it seemed he more so didn’t answer at all. And so, you were left alone as he watched you from a short distance, just as he did all other times.

On one particularly nippy autumn night you found yourself unable to sleep. Perhaps it was your increasing worries about your relationship, perhaps it was the fact you had excess energy from sitting around all day hardly moving around, whatever the reason, you were still just laying in bed staring up at the ceiling… Maybe it was the fact that the world seemed to be dead silent. No rustling of the wind, not even the smallest moan or creek from the seemingly hollow dorm building. Just silent. The kind of silence that would allow one to hear their own gentle calm heartbeat.

…

After getting dressed in some loose clothing other than your pajamas, you took your boombox, small box of cassette tapes and left your room.

As the Super High School Dancer not many would assume you’d like the old bulky music equipment so much, but you did. You liked hearing the buttons and pieces inside make those satisfying click noises as you set up everything. Before Kokichi came crashing into your life, your main hobby was transferring new music onto cassette tapes. There was just something about… for lack of a better word, booming, sound of the old boombox. It was like the difference between listening to a recording of an orchestra and hearing one performed live before you. You can feel the music instead of just hearing it. Sure, you could use a modern boombox, but it wouldn��t have the exact same sound or feel, it’d be a little off.

You trotted your way out to the field as to blast the music without disturbing anyone’s sleep. You hummed feeling the slightly damp grass beneath your feet. Gently placing the boombox and box of cassettes down you quickly began set up. Now, what to play you wondered. Maybe something for quickstep since the fast-paced dance tired you out faster than most other forms. After placing the cassette in you quickly backed up from the boombox, ready to dance. You felt that joyous anticipation bubble up inside as the intro played… A-and played again? Maybe the intro was longer than you remembered… Okay, no, there was something wrong. Confused, you took out the tape. There didn’t appear to be anything wrong with it, and you weren’t entirely sure if this was a problem you could have with tapes. Perhaps something was wrong with the boombox? You decided to test this theory and placed another tape in… The intro was the same but a completely different song was played with the same instruments as the intended song. “You have got to be kidding me.” That smile you tried repressing kept growing wider and wider as you placed in more tapes, finding each one had some silly quirk.

“Nishishi. Y/N, you came!” Suddenly you were tackled from behind, being hugged so tightly. You tried sighing in annoyance, but it came out more as a soft chuckle. “Where’s my tapes?” “Hmm? What tapes?” “… Look we can play some other time, but right now I need my music to dance to so I can tire myself enough to get to sleep.” “W-what? Sleep? Y/N how could you!?” He began crying those crocodile tears as he nuzzled his cheek against your own. “You show up to our super-secret meeting only to abandon me! How can you be so mean!?” You rolled your eyes at his theatrics. “… Okay, I’ll bite. What’s this secret meeting about?” You raised a hand up, gently running your fingers up his neck and through his hair. After a moment he flinched and quickly backed away. Turning around you saw he had a small pack on him. He must have been on his way to set up some prank before hearing his tapes being played. “Planning our crime spree tonight!” “No.” “Whaaat? Y/N, I know you’re new to D.I.C.E. so I’ll let you off easy this time, but I’m the Boss, you have to at least listen to me.” “I’m not a part of your gang, I’m your partner.” “Yeah! My partner in crime, love crimes!” He looked absolutely giddy with sparkling eyes as he leaned in closer and closer, the tips of your noses touching. “… How would one even go about committing a ‘love crime’?” “Oh, Y/N, being so cheeky, like you don’t know.” His eyes narrowed on you as he wore that sharp smirk. “You stole my heart; I stole yours. Now, I want to work with you. Let’s go on a date, right now!” “Dude. It’s one in the morning or something.” “Yes, and…” “… Fine, hopefully this’ll tire me out enough to get to sleep.” Happily cheering Kokichi took the boombox and box of fake cassette tapes before bolting, leaving you to chase after him.

You quickly found yourself running out of the school and into town. Kokichi dashed down street after street after alleyway, then around a corner, down a street you had already passed. It was as if he were just running around on a whim without a destination in mind, which was entirely likely. You picked up your pace quickly leaving Kokichi behind. “Hey, no fair! You’re only faster than me because you’re not carrying all this heavy stuff!” Slowing down your pace, you turned around. “Are you sure it’ not my years of dancing?” You smirked, sprinting straight for him. You scooped him and all the stuff in your arms in a bridal carry style. Your movements were swift and effortless, completely fluid, no hesitation. You even picked up your pace. “Poor lil’ Oma, so tiny, I’m surprised you could even lift my boombox!” “Hey! Not everyone has giant beautiful muscles like you!” “They’re not giant, I’m just toned!” “Y/N that’s such an obvious lie! I’ve seen you lift people over your head with ease! You’re even… carrying me right now…” “Oma?” He didn’t hide how his voice trailed off. Did he only realize that now, or was it another lie? “You alright?” “Hmm? What’s got you wondering that? Of course I’m not! You’re holding me so closely, it’s embarrassing!” “Oh! Sorry!” Your pace immediately slowed down and just as your grip loosened, Kokichi threw his arms around your neck. “But that’s a lie! Geez, Y/N, you should know I can never get enough of you!” “… Sure. Uh, anyway! Are we just going to run around all night or are we actually going to go somewhere?” “Hmm… Alright! First go down the street we just passed! And while we’re at it, we need some racing music!” He pried a chuckle out of you at how clumsily he placed the cassette in and how he got increasingly ‘upset’ that he wasn’t finding a good enough racing song, which was only exacerbated by the ridiculous music that played.

“Stop, stop, STOP! We’re here!” Hopping out of your arms he sifted through his bag, taking out his signature mask and placing it on. “A costume shop?” “Duh! We need something to cover your face! You still haven’t made your D.I.C.E. mask yet, so we’re going to get a temporary one.” “… We’re actually committing crimes!?” He simply laughed his signature laugh as he picked at the lock. When the door opened an alarm went off. You were frozen in place as Kokichi dashed inside. Moments later the alarm stopped blaring. He then popped his head out the open door, taking off his mask. “Okay, it’s safe now! C’mon we only have ten minuets!” He then dashed back in. You were hesitant when taking those first few steps, you’ve never done anything like this before! When Kokichi spoke of ‘love crimes’ you weren’t thinking you were actually going to break into a building and steal something! Kokichi ran back out and took your hands into his own. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of walking into a building.” Then he held his mask up to you. “I’ve done this countless times, you’ll be safe with me, and that’s not a lie.” After you placed on the mask, he led you inside.

“Huh, this feels exactly like when I get into position before judges. Horrifying, and exhilarating!” “Nishishi.” Even in the dark Kokichi effortlessly lead you between the aisles. The place was rather eerie. Costumes and pieces hanging from the ceiling, random oblong shapes jutting out of the walls, the twisted shadows that seemingly scurried about. Your vision was also lightly obscured due to the mask. That coupled with you being slightly on edge from this entire situation, you were a little spooked. You squeezed his hand, lightly stroking the back of his fingers with your thumb. It was more of a mindless gesture, but an appreciative one. You only noticed you were doing so when you suddenly felt the grip on your hand loosen.

Suddenly Kokichi sprinted ahead, letting you go. “Here it is! The back storage room! They keep all the good stuff here!” He quickly picked at the lock before swinging the door open. As he entered, he searched through his bag, taking out a flashlight and with a short sharp click sound the light flipped on, seemingly blinding. You involuntarily held a hand before your eyes, squinting and looking between your fingers. Suddenly your view was darkened. “Who thought these tacky sunglasses would come in handy!” “Ah, thank you Ou-” Now that you weren’t blinded you saw how Kokichi managed to gather the most ridiculous pieces of costumes in mere moments. Clown shoes, fairy wings, giant sunglasses, boxing gloves, all of the bead necklaces, monster finger puppets on all of his fingers and some in his hair, a bowler’s cap, fox mask, checkered vest, striped shorts, feathered boa, frayed scarf, and whatever else was under all that. Being surprised by being greeted to that sight so suddenly a laugh erupted from you. That beautiful, sweet laugh that utterly melted Kokichi’s heart and caused that unconcealable, beaming smile to radiate off him. “Huh!? What’s so funny, Y/N? ~” He hopped just a little closer to you as he spoke in that knowing sing-song tone. “N-No, stop it!” You clamped your hand over your mouth, desperate to repress that laughter. Kokichi smirked. You knew better than to hide your laughter from him. “Y/N, tell me! Hey, hey, tell me, What’s so funny? Huh, huh, what is it?” With each syllable he made some sharp movement, whether it was drawing closer to you or flinging out his hands, smacking whatever was next to him causing it to fall on his head. “D-damn it Kokichi!” You laughed even harder as you kneeled on the ground, holding your stomach which hurt from laughing so hard. Meanwhile Kokichi froze for a moment, a scarlet hue spread across his cheeks and tips of his ears. His heart absolutely pounded against his ribs. You called him by his first name. After taking in your beautiful laughter he quickly removed the clothing, tossing it aside as if he were in a panic.

Once you calmed a little, Kokichi called out to you. “Y-yeah?” You hobbled towards him, taking the sunglasses off, your eyes having adjusted to the light. “There’s a whole lot of masks here!” He picked out a few holding them before his face. Very cartoonish looking shiny plastic masks. An anime girl, a bee, crocodile, a clown- “Oh, I didn’t know people made masks of your face Oma!” “Well, I’m just that handsome. Not everyone can be a face model.” He then made what you assumed to be an exaggerated ‘sexy’ face to which you rested your face in your hand. “You’re so ridiculous.” “You say that like it’s a bad thing, but I can hear your smile!” “I am smiling, and I hate it!” Your smile only grew at this silly light banter.

You drew closer looking at the open boxes. You picked up a Venice carnival mask. The face appeared to be a cracked porcelain with intricate gold, black and dark purple design. There were blank spaced under the left eye and over the right where scores of music were. At the top was what appeared to be a jester’s cap, even with tiny bells on the ends. “Ah! Perfect!” Kokichi daintily took the mask from you and placed it on. Even how he did something as mundane as picking up an object had so much personality. Perhaps as a dancer that was one of the things that drew you to him. “Alright, let’s go! We still have love crimes to commit!” “This wasn’t it!?” “Duh! Y/N, keep up. We were just getting a mask to hide your identity! This was only preparation.” He then dashed off towards the counter. You dashed after him, finding he was leaving money on the counter. “You’re paying?” “Well, yeah! I’m not a thief you know!” He said as he took a box of impulse buy mints. “Really now.” “Petty theft Y/N, petty theft.”

Once you were outside Kokichi repicked the locks, locking the doors. “Now, our date night can begin! Huh? Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing? No taking off your mask when committing crimes! We don’t want anyone recognizing you!” “Uh… I’m giving you your mask back? I assumed you’d want it back, and I’d wear the store one. Wasn’t the whole point of coming here to get me a mask?” “… No, keep my mask on.” “Oh, uh, okay?” You sidled up beside him, gently taking his hand. “So, where are we headed to commit this ‘love crime’?” Kokichi flinched his hand away, instead occupying himself with the boombox. “Before that we need a sneaking around theme song!” “o-okay…” You awkwardly stood beside him as he fumbled with the cassette tape. “There, now-” He crashed into you carrying everything. “Carry me!” He nuzzled into you as you effortlessly lifted him up. “Now, off to adventure!”

As you raced around he played silly song after silly irritating song. You sighed as he scat or made up nonsensical lyrics for your soundtrack. He’d sing at the top of his lungs, making you fear he was going to wake someone. Quickly though he told you to stop. “This is it!” “… What even is this place? Off neon lights… I don’t even see a sign.” “Oh~ Nishishi. This is fun.” He joyfully skipped over to the door, picking at the lock. “You wait right here and be prepared for an emergency escape!” He then slipped through the door laughing his signature laugh.

It was awfully cool for an autumn night; it wasn’t even near winter yet. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves and throwing them up into the air. You sat on the sidewalk, looking out at those bright colorful twinkling lights. It was strangely dark and isolated here. The exact opposite of the lively town which lay not far. What even was this you wondered. You guessed you’d find out soon enough, but… would waiting too long be bad. Were either of you truly happy with this? Was this healthy even. You held no doubt that Kokichi cared for you but thinking back on what lead you here… like this place you felt somewhat isolated. Were you doing something wrong? You wanted to just ask Kokichi, but what if it was like dancing and not even lying, he’d simply say nothing as if the question were never asked. If, like times when he seemed to distance himself from you, he’d give you affection or make you laugh, get you to temporarily forget about it. You liked Kokichi, you truly did, but… maybe this wasn’t healthy for either of you. Maybe it’d be better to be friends instead. There wasn’t that much difference between being friends and being in a romantic relationship, it just the latter has more expectations… what if that was it. Maybe you were expecting too much of this.

“Hey! Y/n!”

“Huh? Uh- what?” “There you are!” He was smiling, crouching before you hugging his knees. “I called for you for a while, but you were off in la-la land!” “Oh, sorry. Just got lost in thought…” You then smirked. “But only because you took so long.” “Excuse me, but that was record time for disarming a building!” “Still took forever.” “You’re so silly.” Taking your hands, he jumped up pulling you to your feet. “Now, let’s go!”

He eagerly dragged you into the dark building. There was but a single door open where light beamed out, swaying and dancing about on the floor and wall beyond it. There were also two pairs of shoes before the door. “Come on, c’mon, put them on quickly now!” … The shoes had wheels on the bottom? Looking into the room you found it was massive. The floor was smooth and shiny with nothing atop it, the walls blank, and the ceiling was covered in lights. Against the walls was some carpeted flooring where Kokichi placed your things. He rolled along watching as you hurried to place the skates on. “I had no idea there were roller-skating rinks around here!” “Yeah, but I think this is the only one, but it’s so drab! So, we’re gonna liven things up!” He excitedly searched through the bag taking out a funky looking toy gun, colorful plastic cups and many cans of spray paint. You hobbled over to the rink, slipping forward and back, swinging your arms and body out in any direction to keep any semblance of balance. When Kokichi neared you threw yourself at him, to which you both fell. “S-sorry!” You rolled over quickly sitting up. “Ooh, I didn’t know my Y/N was so clumsy! Or were you just wanting an excuse to hug me?” “I’ve never been roller skating before.” “… You… you’re not lying… But you’re the Super High School Level Dancer! Shouldn’t you know roller disco?” “Yeah, High School Level, not Ultimate, or end-all-be-all… There are a few things I still have not mastered. Like how Tojo can’t cut konjac, or how Chabashira doesn’t know a thing about Aikido! We may be great, but not perfect, and roller-skating… happens to be where I’m lacking.” “Oh… That’s going to be a problem then. Oh well! This will just be more fun!” With verve he pulled you to your feet and placed a can of spray paint in your hand. “Let’s go paint!”

You slipped and tumbled as you painted, making sloppy, dripping designs. Kokichi linked his arm with your own, catching you before you fell and simply helped you keep your balance in general. You most often just made random lines or squiggles and Kokichi incorporated them into his own childish looking work. He turned the lines into the sides of dice and the squiggles into lop sided hearts or other things, whatever he felt like. You found yourself giggling from imagining how ridiculous you must have looked attempting to keep balance and nervousness from breaking into another building, this time vandalizing it. But you trusted Kokichi and followed his lead, letting yourself just enjoy the absurdity of it all.

Once finished the pair of you took a step back, admiring your work. “Masterpieces, all of it!” “I don’t know about that, but it was fun.” “Now, we need to fix these lights!” He glided away, picking up the packets of colored plastic cups then returned. “Toss me up to the ceiling Y/N!” “Excuse me!?” “I need you to toss me! I’ve seen you do it before! Besides, how else am I supposed to place these on the lights?” You looked up seeing the ceiling lights were the kind where the light was just stuck in a drilled hole in the ceiling. You supposed it was possible to cram the open end of the cup there. “… If you touch the ceiling or ground even once I won’t toss you anymore.” “Yay!” He hugged you, giving you the opportunity to quickly pick him up and toss him. “What was that? It’s wasn’t even close.” “Well excuse me for not wanting to hurt you.” “I know you can do this. I’ll be fine.” “… alright.” After you made sure you were standing on the toe stop, you tossed him much higher than before. You held your breath seeing him fly up then come tumbling down. Catching him in your arms you clutched him tightly as if fearing he was going to fly up on his own. “See, I’m fine. I know I can trust you.” “… Thanks.” “Now, onto the next!” And so, you tossed up Kokichi to each and every single light.

When you caught him that last time you hugged him tightly, thankful you did not slip up once. You certainly felt the pain of your dancing partner not catching you and though quick, it’s scary and can instantly shatter much trust that had been built up. However, you felt Kokichi squirm under your grip so you reluctantly let go. He then hugged you before skating away, picking up the strange gun. “Y/N, want to do the honors?” “… I don’t even know what the gun does!” “Okay, okay, just help me keep from falling over.” “Alright?” Before you could even approach him, he crashed into you. He then looked up at the ceiling and took aim. With a pop curtain string lights shot out, attaching itself to the ceiling. It was no wonder he asked you to keep him steady, the force from that thing shooting was much too powerful for one person to handle. Kokichi made sure to cover the entire ceiling with the thing. When he was finally satisfied, he raced off to the wall to plug the end into an outlet. Then the lights flipped on.

It was brilliant. It was like an otherworldly stage. The curtain string lights slightly swayed as Kokichi flew past, making it appear almost waterfall like. The colors clashed against one another and were slightly obscured by the string lights making it look to be a haze. The floor reflected the ceiling making the lights look endless. It was fun chaos. And what made it even better was the quickstep song Kokichi had playing on full blast from your boombox. “Wait. No that’s actually one of my songs. Not one you altered.” “Aw~ You liked my music. Well if you insist, I can play the Delfino Plaza theme intro loop for us.” “NO! No! I am so glad for this! I was just surprised for a moment!” Kokichi laughed seeing your flustered reaction.

“… Oma. You’re ridiculous and amazing. This is fun, and scary. Thank you for this.” Kokichi froze hearing the shear warmth that oozed from your voice. He was only snapped out of his trance feeling you so gently take his hand and intertwine your fingers together. He flinched away, immediately regretting it. “I’m not comfortable with that. I don’t like touch that much. I hope you understand.” He then hid his hand behind his head. “… But that’s a lie.” He quickly wrapped his hands around one of yours, pulling himself close. “Sorry for scaring you!” “… Is it, though.” You pulled your hand away. “Do you not like being touched?” “Hmm? Wait, what’s that?” He tried skating away but tripped over his own feet. When he hit the ground a buzzing sound went off. “Aw. My hand buzzer prank was revealed, oh well.” “… You really don’t want to talk about this, do you. That was a pathetic ‘prank’ to get me distracted.” You kneeled down beside him to be closer to his level. “You always do this, try to pull the wool over my eyes, distract me from… something. It seems you push me away, but you then approach me so freely. Is this a control thing? Do I make you uncomfortable? Is that why you’re only okay when you approach me? If you distrust me that much at least lie instead of ignoring it. I don’t care if it’s a painful truth or a happy lie, just… communicate with me, say something, anything. Please.” You couldn’t let this go. If you wanted this to work you had to communicate somehow, and you didn’t know what else to do at this point… and… You hated this. You hated being used to this feeling. It was just like dancing. Fun and amazing, and so, so exciting, but lonely. When dancing you need to be at similar levels for it to truly work, but because of your title, because of how quickly you learned others became intimidated by your skill believing they couldn’t keep up with you, leaving you on your own. You thought this would be different. No disproportion of skill level so you could be on an even playing field, so you could actually have a partner to work and be with. But even with Kokichi, it was like you were being dragged around. You wondered if you only felt like this because you were expecting too much. You thought things could be like when you were younger, you could actually have a partner, someone who you could rely on just as much as they relied on you. Someone you could trust to catch you, be someone they could trust in return… But it’s not. This just feels like whenever you invited another dancer to dance. Left to be by yourself.

“Do whatever you want with me.” “Huh?” He sat up and looked you directly in the eyes, or at least you assumed so, it was near impossible to tell with the mask on. You also thought so because of how you felt this gaze. It was similar to what you felt on stage, knowing all eyes were on you, but this was different. It was… intense. “I… w-what do you mean?” He dragged himself over only mere millimeters apart from you. “… You overwhelm me. I’m not used to this. Getting affection so earnestly. Everyone hates or distrust me because of my antics. The only people who cared about me before you was D.I.C.E., my family. But… we don’t show affection in the typical way. We mess with one another, making lighthearted jokes at our own expense to make others laugh, booby-trap places we know they frequent often and that trap having a treat or gift for them. But you… You just say it. You just hug me, touch me, hold my hand. I want it. I want you. I want you to keep wanting me. But then I feel like my heart’s going to explode and I get so nervous and my mind goes into a panic. It’s embarrassing that I feel ashamed of not being able to handle even your simple touches. So, I back away, but I still crave you and want you to know I care about you too. I’m not uncomfortable it’s just… so much to take in all at once my mind and heart can’t keep up!” As he spoke, he slowly draped his arms over your shoulders and leaned into you, closing the gap. He nuzzled into you. Even with that mask on, you could feel a shiver run down your spine as his warm breath brushed across your ear. “… Do whatever you want to me. Please.” This… You never heard him speak in such a serious tone before. He almost sounded like a completely different person. You wondered if he could feel how your heart raced, the heat radiating from your face, how you just wanted to melt into that embrace. Little did you know Kokichi was thinking the exact same thing in that moment and every other time you touched him. Still holding on to you, he backed up so you could see his masked face.

“But that’s a lie!” There was that playful tone you recognized. “I’m a supreme leader. I’m showered in love and affection all the time! Every single day I’ll have you know! How do you think I got so good at giving hugs?!” As if proving his point, he tackled you into a hug, throwing all his weight into it, knocking the two of you over. “… If all that was a lie, then what about the first thing.” “It’s the truth. Do whatever you want to me, and I won’t mind a Single. Little. Bit.” “Whatever I want huh… Then…” You slowly sat up. “Care to skate dance with me?” “What? Did you lie to me about not knowing how to skate?” “No. I don’t care if I don’t even know the basics. I just want to dance with you. Share my passion with you.” You shakily got up. “Want to dance with me, Oma?” He was still for a moment before taking your hand. As you helped him to his feet you noticed the song suddenly changed. It was one you didn’t recognize but had the same instruments as the intended song. Of course, he used a silly tape, why would you think he brought your original ones with him. It was Latin Jazz you believed.

Taking both his hands, you held them in a tight grip, fearful of falling over. You both laughed out loud, spinning around, clinging to one another attempting to keep any balance. You tried doing some dance moves, from ballet, to ballroom, to jazz, most of which ended in you and Kokichi almost toppling over and laughing to no end in the process. You soon noticed how Kokichi’s grip was almost unbearably tight, and how his hands trembled. “Nervous?” “I… I’m feeling lightheaded.” He then flopped into you. You immediately wrapped your arms around him, keeping him steady. “Ah~ much better. Thank you, Y/N.” He knew dancing was going to kill him. He could hardly handle you holding his hand and now he was trying something so intimate, dancing. Entrusting your entire being into your partner. Being so close with so much skin contact. It wasn’t like he didn’t like it. In fact was a desperately wanting this, but he believed he hadn’t become a complete wreak from these overwhelming feelings because his intense blush was hidden behind a mask and he couldn’t see how tenderly you were probably looking at him right now. Or how you were smiling, or… And even merely thinking of you was blurring his mind, being consumed by the desire to just stay like this longer.

Suddenly you stopped. “Oma. I think someone-” The moment he heard voices Kokichi dragged you to your things, chucking the skates away and quickly collected the boombox and tapes. “Y/N, run now!” You scooped him and your things before dashing away past the people at the entrance. The pair of you giggled like naughty school children as you zipped down street after street trying to lose any cops that were potentially called on you. After Kokichi was convinced you had escaped he burst into obnoxiously loud laughter, taking off his and your masks. He so cheekily smiling seeing the dawn of a new day. “You’re beautiful Oma.” Then you pulled him closer, kissing him on the cheek. His laughter choked, a loud squeak like noise replacing it. You chuckled seeing his tight-lipped wobbling smile as his already rosy tinted cheeks flushed to be absolutely red. “Oh? I thought you were great at accepting affection. Or are cheek kisses your weakness?” You were leaning in for a kiss when he placed and hand on your face and buried his own face into his other hand. “Y-you’re so mean. Don’t tease me like that!” “Aw~ but how am I supposed to resist when you blush so cutely like that!” You absolutely adored seeing that blush spread, and smile grow.

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arcane-aspirations · 4 years ago

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The Frustration of the Experienced or, When Nothing is New* Anymore

I’ve recently picked back up attempting an active practice of daemianism. This form of daemianism is inspired by the animal-formed, corporeal representation of human souls in Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials series (best known book is The Golden Compass). I first read the series in 2005 or 2006 or so, and I am very sure I imagined what it would be like to have my soul beside me as an animal then. That’s the sort of person I was then - to imagine and bring forth what I experienced in stories that inspired me to my daily life - and indeed, hope to regain a powerful sense of being again.

I first encountered others who were daemians on the internet a few years later. I didn’t remain an active member, but I found The Daemon Page Forum and was fascinated with this community that developed detailed profiles for what sort of person would have what species as their daemons. It was like personality typing, with varying levels of commitment to an imaginary friend or what I would now recognize as a thoughtform.

Let me come back to that. “What I would now recognize.”

Over the years, although I didn’t post on TDF, I would check back every few months as I remembered daemianism and read over various species’ profiles that interested me. I have always been fairly obsessed with representing myself; I never felt like I had to explore or understand myself though - that felt intrinsic and obvious.

Though I always found it deeply frustrating that often the most common “default” characters and teams were the ones I related to the most, genuinely. I considered myself for a wolf-formed daemian for a very long time. That was also an issue for me being Gryffindor, an Autobot, Thunderclan... My archetype gravitated towards that that was popular, which often was annoying in that many who claimed the popular affiliation with something were frequently the ones just claiming an affiliation with the fandom or the popularity, rather than the soul behind it.

I digress. Mostly. That context of something being popular affecting my relationship with the thing itself isn’t completely irrelevant.

I would say the most important and active time in my beinng a daemian was a rough patch in my life around 2015 into 2016. I was lonely and had became my own worst enemy too, given that a precious friend turned enemy makes for the worst sort. The comfort of my daemon, this entity which was supposed to represent the real, true self, was incredibly valuable. Setting aside the slight reprieve it gave from ‘being alone’ - although of course, it was still unforgettable to me that, my daemon being me and all interactions coming from and only being perceptible by me, I was still alone - the sense that I valued, saw, and still was myself at a time where I had very much lost all of that elsewhere was invaluable for getting through that.

My daemon had a name, mostly, and a gender, mostly, and a few forms that were right, mostly. He didn’t do much but provide imagined cuddles from an animal companion friend - I really remember something I did regularly where I’d imagine leaning our foreheads together - but I remember feeling at least sometimes happy and content as a result of the whole thing. But he wasn’t quite what people on TDF would’ve called a daemon.

Firstly, as much as I liked the idea of having an animal to identify my persona, my self, by, I didn’t like the idea of “settling” in one form. “Settling” indicated being an adult in Phillip Pullman’s series, which I have always reviled becoming and now being. That is, perhaps, a story for another time. Beyond that, it felt limiting - let’s put a pin in that one, too, though only for later in this post.

Secondly, my daemon occasionally wasn’t an animalic shape. In one vivid memory, I danced in my aunt’s kitchen when I was home alone one evening with my daemon in the form of N Harmonia from Pokemon. Is N Harmonia even someone I think is close in personality to myself, and thereby a fitting depiction of myself? Not at all, although I do think we’d be excellent friends.

Thirdly - here’s the woo warning for folks who’ve missed that my blog is witchy - I started having the sense that my daemon wasn’t “just” this thoughtform expression of my soul. I remember feeling like having this thoughtform that was me projected was sort of this... shell of my own self, that then this entity from very far away - in space, in time, from another life, who knows, it’s complicated, I never even felt comfortable saying whether it was real or not - I felt very connected to because we were of similar soul energy could inhabit. That was very much not related to daemianism. A pin here for later in post, too.

I don’t totally remember why my focus on daemianism waned for a bit after that. Things didn’t really get better for me, but my fixations do tend to move around. It may well just be that I got better enough to start playing video games again, and was checked out from my surroundings where a daemon would be projected to remind me where he was. Or it might have just started bothering me too much that he wasn’t “real” in so far as he couldn’t/didn’t exist outside what I projected.

It bothers me that I have to create and maintain so much of the things that bring value to my life myself. It’s exhausting. And those things don’t feel as real as things that exist independent of me and my influence. There’s power in “I invented that” and there’s a kind of resignation about one’s world in “I had to invent that, because it wasn’t there but I wanted so very much for it to be”.

And while there’s others out there, obviously, doing this whole daemianism thing, was that what I was doing anyway? Clearly I was taking it my own direction... or at least, combining it with other non-daemianism things that made it distinctly not quite exactly daemianism.

So while I’ve off and on projected my daemon back into the space around me - that’s the term for imagining and “seeing in your mind’s eye” your daemon existing in and interacting with your environment around you - since then, I haven’t done nearly as much.

I’m picking it back up recently and finding it rather difficult.

Some of the things I established as fitting and suitable back then, while still suitable and true in some lights, are hidden under a complicated tangle of things that don’t make them untrue but certainly obscure or make the way to the situations and perspectives where that truth is apparent difficult. There are roads I don’t walk anymore, even though those roads and how I’d walk them are still important to me. There are many roads I walk now that ...could? should? be acknowledged now that mean nothing to me but resentment that they’re where I walk. I still feel I am the same person I was; I just feel like I never get the same sorts of opportunities to be myself.

So the forms’ fittingness to my personality feel a bit tangled in the context of my life I can’t control, where embracing that tangle feels like a near final step of losing myself. The name is roughly the same; I want a name that feels right and conveys something, and anyone who’s ever named anything to convey a meaning probably has experienced that problem.

And I can’t focus on forms suiting myself entirely, because I’m still bothered by knowledge of how a form is perceived popularly - or because of an animal’s popularity. That in and of itself feels like misrepresentation or miscommunication; I’m not able to communicate why I really feel that is right because there’s an assumption it’s what I chose consciously or unconsciously because it was popular; I’m not able to communicate through that sense of the popular thing that I feel incredibly different and disconnected from others; I’m not able to communicate what I’m saying because the most accurate denotative and personal connotative vocabulary I can find to communicate is full of connotations I don’t mean to others.

Let’s not even start with pronouns, alright?

But I think something in particular that’s frustrating is that daemianism is not the only thing on my mind when I think:

1. representation of the self

2. a form to indicate the self on an entity with malleable form

3. thoughtforms

4. animal representations of the self

I neither want to compartmentalize nor combine daemianism & daemons with witchcraft/paganism familiars/fetches, my polymorphic shapeshifter Otherkinity, souls, thoughtforms, and entities I may or may not share some kind of special soul-energy-woo bond with.

I don’t want to separate what has a resonance - except that resonance, frustratingly, sometimes shifts.

I don’t want to combine what could be varied and interesting, because now any community or representation of that thing is no longer what I am doing or can speak about and find any sense of connection through - or worse, what I am now taken to be misrepresenting or ill-informed about.

And this is the frustration of the experienced, visible here but far from exclusive to daemianism, spirit work, et al in my life: what I know I cannot but help connect to what else I know.

Connecting what I know to what I know alters forever what I do and feel about what I know and what I learn next. I have opinions and feelings about so many things, and everything I encounter is layered upon my opinions and feelings about it all.

And I feel like that connection isolates me from ever being able to appreciate and participate in something new and fresh.

It isolates me from being able to connect to the experiences of someone else who doesn’t have the connections and syncretic perceptions that I do.

I never wish to be someone I’m not, but I frequently wish to be less experienced than I am.

*I don’t think ‘new’ is the word I wanted here, but I couldn’t find it. After the post, I feel fine recording that what I wanted to reflect was not just that something was new and exciting, but also that something was able to be fresh and untainted; able to be its own thing viewed on its own terms without being conflated, connected, or tied to anything else.

#daemianism #experiences recounted

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holy-mountaineering · 4 years ago

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This spread is for @mirronx Thank you, as always!

Here’s the full Qabalistic Tree of Life Spread that I do. What I’m going to do is go through and briefly explain each card, its position on the Tree, and then I’ll give you a summary/synopsis of the spread as a whole. You know the routine.

Think of this spread as a sort of quantum map, or even the land of a regular map, everything is happening at once, in each place. It’s important to think of yourself as moving “through” the map but you are also simultaneously everywhere at once. For the sake of this specific experiment, think of this as a map. Maybe as a person, the Qabalistic Adam Kadmon.

Where we’re starting the journey from is Kether, the monad, the first sign of creation. We’ll call this your hometown, since it is where you’re from originally. Here we have XV The Devil OR The Lord of the Gates of Matter, Ayin, Capricorn.

The Goat-Fish who is half in the mountains and half in the deeps of the oceans, high places and the deep. This guy gets a REALLY bad rap that is very unwarranted. All The Devil is trying to do is Incarnate or materialize by Higher methods.

The card is a giant cock with faceless little white people in the balls looking like they want out, again, possibility is trying to take hold and become a physical thing. The Devil IS a trickster (“you little devil” and assorted shit sayings like that) so that worries some people. Those people are squares and probably have bad taste in music.

Manifest your potential and figure it out when it’s “real” and not just a passing thought or whim.

In Chokmah, which is like your freeway getting you out onto the road out of your hometown is the 6 of Cups, Pleasure.

For reasons, I call this the plumbing card. The water is not flowing freely as though it is pouring, it has been pumped through a series of tubes intricately woven together to fill the cups placed in the shape of a hexagram. Emotion and connectedness to life are intentionally being directed by unseen but invited forces. Someone who wasn’t looking closely could see nothing but knots and chaos and even wonder how the damn thing worked in the first place. Those people are squares and should be avoided at all costs.

Do what gives you pleasure that also instills clarity. Center on the best you can feel even if onlookers can’t appreciate what you’re doing connoisseurs (and you) will dig it.

In Binah, which is ruled by Saturn and for the sake of this reading we will call the first stop on your roadtrip. You haven’t really arrived anywhere but you’re stopping and getting a chance to repack your car in a more efficient way. Sitting in Binah is the 10 of Cups, Satiety.

This is the emotional peak experience. This peak is a feeling of a connection, a filling up with life’s water and flowing out to all other life. Intuition is raised here if you look from your mountain top where your perspective is different. The accumulated force of the suit of water is forcing its way forward and down and cutting a path as it goes. Be careful you don’t get too swept up and fall from this height.

You’re coming to a peak emotional/relationship(s with those around you) experience. Enjoy the view but descend carefully.

In Chesed which is ruled by Jupiter and again for the sake of this experiment we’ll say involves your influence and benevolence in your current trip is the 5 of Disks, Worry.

Like all of the 5s in Tarot, this is the microcosmic or human number . Don’t believe me? Stand up, stick your arms and legs out and counting your head, congrats, you’re a pentagram. Lord knows people worry like motherfuckers about how they are going to get by in the “normal” world, so there is a stress and strain in this card that everyone late on a bill can understand. This is the worry that you’ll get your intelligence (Mercury) smothered by the laborious strain of Taurus. This is, like all 5s a human limitation issue.

Well it won’t unless you only see your limitations and make it happen. Be smarter about you material situation so you don’t have to work harder.

Across the Tree in Geburah, which is Mars Town, where you find your drive and what you’re trying to accomplish/conquer is (another 5) the 5 of Swords, (mental/communication) Defeat.

Like all 5s this is the microcosmic or human card, if you don’t believe me stand up and stick out your arms and legs, boom, you’re a pentagram. Swords are mind, thought processes, communication and the like, and this is mental growth limited by its mundane focus or dwelling on the limitations of yourself and other individuals.

Realize your limitations and the limitations of others. You are seriously just a human and so is everyone else. Try to focus your mind on bigger picture things instead of mundane/shitty people, ideas, thoughts, and ways of thinking.

In Tiphareth, the Sun and center of gravity holding all this in place, the heart pumping the blood through this, your heart is XVIII The Moon, Pieces, Qoph.

This is the ‘Sun at midnight where you stand shines on the other side of the world’. The pull of night and day eventually rising, illuminating what was once dark. As opposed to the old Aeon idea of the Sun dying, this is the cyclic motion of the push and pull of the day and night. The dark gives the light context and vis-a-versa.

See the light in the dark, accept the cyclic push and pull, if you don’t like what “time of day it is” in your life I assure you it will change like the tides.

In Netzach, Venus town, where you have the realization about how this is going to change you as a person with a personality is XXI The Universe, Saturn, Tau.

The Universe is the totality of what we can sense and know. The dance of the Woman with the cosmic serpent and the Eye destroying while everything constantly recreates. We see the Universe only from our position in it. You may send out your satellites to explore unknown areas but you can only process what they might mean from your place. The more we try to take into our restrictive minds and spirits, the more we know about the whole and ourselves and our place in the Universe.

Step back and look at the connections and totality of everything you know and experience. It’s quite a view.

In Mercury Town Hod-ville, where all the Universities are and everyone has real intellectual shit going on is the YET ANOTHER 5, WHAT’RE YOU A TAURUS??? The 5 of Wands, Strife.

Like all the 5s, this is a microcosmic or human number. It’s also the halfway point between two things. This is the drag when you see how far you’ve come and see that you have the exact same grueling distance to go. Your feet will start to drag. The natural friction of motion becomes very apparent here and it is more annoying and nagging than anything else.

You might be stuck between a rock and a shitty place with what you’re doing, but just truck on, it’s not so bad once you get past where you are and get moving at full speed again.

On the Moon in Yesod, the receptive and reflective place that is alot about the feelings that you’re picking up from all this is the 10 of Disks, Wealth.

This card is intelligence (Mercury) in fertile possibility (Virgo). This is the peak material situation, a good situation, a situation you really want to be in.

Be swift and mindful of your material task at hand and your everyday experience, it is nearing its end and you stand to profit.

Put your smarts and your communication skills in the most fertile possibilities and cash in before things start to come down from this peak opportune time.

Down here in Malkuth-istan, the everyday life mundane, waking up pooping, and going to work world is the Ace of Disks, the root power of Earth or the material.

This is the foundation which all your solid structures are and will be built on. This is the very root of your real world/material life situation. While this doesn’t mean you must tear everything down or that there is nothing in your material world that you’ve built, it does mean you must look at the source from which you’ve built your material and everyday world. If you have no foundation you can have no structure. If you have a shoddy foundation, you’ll have a shoddy structure. Look to what things were like before you began building. Is there sand beneath you? Are you in a swamp, building castles of stone that will bind to the mud and be pulled down much sooner than later? Did you account for the raise in elevation when you laid your foundation? Look down to the base of what you’ve made and what you’ve made it upon.

This is an engineering job, you’ll need tools to measure and level everything out. The occult might not be the best place to find these tools and it is possible that you have issues much more base than you’re willing to cop to. There are many tools you can use to look at your foundation provided in psychology and meditation from other sources. The Universe throws us extreme situations and more often than not, this is the only way people see their basest of instincts and behaviors really act out. If you can, take a look at what connects you and what you’re building to the Earth before an earthquake, tornado, volcano, or other act of G-D forces you to pray everything was fine. Check the strength of your foundations before the strength of your foundations are checked.

Get down to the base fundamentals of what is going on in your material (things, money, living situation, literal stuff) and build from the ground up if you must.

Alright, so, it’s time to make manifest the possibilities, the desires that have gone unspoken, don’t worry about other people’s interpretations of YOU and your wants and needs, there will be those who care to unravel the tangle that is each of us as an individual. You WILL find this, in some way, some how, and that WILL be that big emotional release and connection that you’ve been feeling is around the bend, it’s coming up, fear not!

Seriously, don’t kill your own vibe, or your ability to act when the time arrives by doubt, needless, baseless doubt. Everything is moving for you, or it will be soon rather, and you have to trust that the Sunrise is just over the horizon

And there is a bigger picture here, you’re not only fulfilling your own desires, those longings serve a Greater purpose, do NOT doubt them, or their fulfillment.. And don’t trip yourself up when it doesn’t hit at the time that is most convenient for you. I said it would happen, I didn’t say it wouldn’t be a little messy, but messy is fun. All that being said, you want to bring in those nouns (people places things) that CAN make this happen, the most fertile possibilities that will be a part of the motion toward this. But, don’t think you’ll be the same, even in the same place when you’re done. You might not physically move, but unleashing desires, longed for moves us… Ever Towards...

Ta Da!

Hit me up with any questions! What a great Reading, I’m really happy for you and I’m excited to hear about your next few months!

-Frater N0VGHT

#magick #occult #thelema #tarot #divination #cartomancy

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thetakenpokemon · 4 years ago

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Act 2 - The Sister’s Decision

[Time: 1 Week From Present Time] [Location: Unknown Isle] [PoV: ???]

I take a big bite out of the giant Pecha Berry in my claws, its juices running down my chin as I lounge lazily on the branch of said fruit tree

So far today hasn’t really stood out to me very much, but then again it’s kinda like this everyday. The only time something interesting happens is when some of the Sisters come back after sneaking out into society - and most importantly, returning with all sorts of things they’ve managed to obtain.

Other than that? Pretty boring. The only thing that’s really different right now is the fact that Zenoclio has been sensing some weird stuff somewhere. She hasn’t come back yet after heading to speak with Xiomara, so I can only assume that it’s actually very important.

...Or Xio was in one of her moods when Zenoclio visited, which could also explain why she’s still not back.

I take another bite into the fruit, my gaze lazily scanning the surrounding peaceful forest.

A forest that is a little too peaceful...

...I want to fight something.

Finishing the berry, I sit up on the branch, a fanged grin forming on my mouth.

I should go find one of the Sisters and start something with them... Maybe Iniko? She definitely gets riled up really easily, so I’m sure I can get into a fight that way~

My long ears twitch as I hear the faint sound of rustling below me, the feat only possible due to the fact that Lopunnies have fairly good hearing. I feel my grin widen even further, since hearing something like that only means that someone is approaching~

Change of plans, looks like there’s someone conveniently right here.

I pull my feet onto the branch and crouch down, preparing to pounce the moment the person comes into view.

“Don’t even try it, Miyako.” The voice of the individual speaks up, their tone betraying who they are.

My grin quickly vanishes upon hearing them. “Of course it’s Seikani...” I mutter to myself.

Stepping out of the brush below is the Delphox herself, her head turned up to look at me as I continue to lay crouched on the branch above.

“Hey, if you’re just passing by, don’t blow my cover.” I say to her in an irritated tone, sitting back down onto the branch. “Just move along-” A mischievous smile works its way onto my face as a thought occurs to me. “Actually? If you can do me a solid, could you go find someone and tell them to come right here?” My claws flex, blue lightning dancing between my fingers as the result of my powers inherited from Zekrom.

Seikani lets out a snort. “Even if I wasn’t already looking for you, I would still say no.”

This makes me raise an eyebrow. “What, you were looking for me?”

Realization soon hits me, in which I immediately jump to my feet and scowl at her. “Hey! I’m not participating in any of your experiments again! ESPECIALLY not after last time!”

The Delphox-Xerneas hybrid smirks. “Relax, Miyako. I’m not here for you for one of my experiments this time. There’s a meeting that’s happening right now and your presence is requested.”

Relief floods me, but also does confusion. “Meeting? That’s new.” I leap down from the branch, landing onto the ground with an audible thud. “I assume this involves Zenoclio’s talk with Xiomara?”

Seikani’s smirk fades, replaced with a serious expression. “You would be correct. Come, they’re waiting for you.”

I cross my arms behind my head, letting out a huff. “Alright alright. Lead the way.” My eyes narrow at her. “But if you’re actually lying and trying to lure me into another one of your experiments, you have another thing coming.”

Her eyes twinkle, the way she’s looking at me with her X-shaped pupils actually makes me shudder. “I wouldn’t lie to you if I were to have you involved in my experiments, Miyako.” She says a little too sweetly. “Because if I were to need you, you wouldn’t have a choice~”

“R-Right.” I stutter nervously. “L-Lead the way.”

---

Apparently this so called meeting place wasn’t as far as I initially believed. Then again, this island isn’t THAT big, but it would still take a fairly long trek if it were to be on a beach that’s on the complete opposite of our initial location.

Seeing the collection of large willow trees ahead, it confirms the location in mind. Although there are several places where we hang out or conduct ‘meetings’, this place is definitely a somewhat more popular one - especially since the low-hanging vines from the willows give a more secluded feeling.

As Seikani and I brush the vines aside, I quickly see that there are four people already here once I step in.

Xiomara isn’t one of them, go figure. At the same time I’m not really surprised, since she almost never leaves the temple that’s at the center of the island.

From the looks of it? The ones who are here first are Zenoclio, Orabelle, Yinomi, and Iniko.

“Here so soon, Miyako? Did you actually want to come this time?.” Zenoclio sarcastically chuckles, said Primarina lounging on a large rock that’s located in the center of this willow-surrounded clearing.

“Up yours, Clio.” I shoot right back, immediately becoming irritated. “You guys dragged me all the way here for a meeting, so let’s get this shit started already. What’s the news and why does it concern me?”

Seikani immediately flicks my cheek with a finger, the action causing me to flinch and growl. “Quiet, Miyako. They’ll explain it to you.” She says to me with a click of her tongue before turning to the rest of the group. “Do you need me for anything else? If not, I will take my leave.”

Yinomi is the one to speak up, the Hatterene giving a bemused chuckle. “That is all, Seikani. We won’t hold you here any longer.”

Not needing to be told twice, the Delphox grins before sauntering away, disappearing past the willow vines.

“Alright...” Zenoclio starts, the gaze of her slitted pupils fixating on me. “Orabelle, Yinomi, and Iniko have already been mostly informed while we were waiting, so that leaves just you to explain things to.”

I shrug my shoulders as I approach them. “Not my fault that you bunch were hosting a meeting until just now,.” Stopping next to them all, I look up at Zenoclio dryly. “So, what’s the deal?”

She holds her gaze on me for a while before ultimately sighing. “I’ve spoken with Xiomara about what I’ve been sensing as of lately. Due to the possibility of something very dire happening, she used her power to help enhance and amplify my own...”

I raise an eyebrow. “And...?”

“And here I thought I was the impatient one.” Orabelle chuckles, said Gothitelle currently leaning against one of the various willows.

“Not now, Orabelle.” Yinomi hisses before I could form a retort, the sudden sharpness of the Hatterene’s tone causing Orabelle to immediately shut up - not without giving a dirty look that is.

“As I was saying...” Zenoclio continues with annoyance, pinching the bridge of her snout with a clawed hand. “With the help of Xiomara, I managed to get more information on what’s going on right now.” Her eyes narrow. “From what I’ve both felt and seen? There’s been numerous breaches into our reality.”

This makes me blink. “Breaches? As in portals?”

She nods her head. “Correct. However unlike the wormholes created between our world and Ultra-Space, these breaches are different. They lead to a far and completely unknown reality instead of a parallel one.”

Now this interests me. “So... Are these just normal portals or did something come through them?”

Her eyes narrow. “Multiple things came through. From what I’ve felt, there are a total of two breaches, with a third one threatening to breach as well.” She sits up from the rock, straightening her form as her tone becomes more grave. “However even with Xiomara’s assistance, I’m unable to locate one of the active gates nor the one that’s threatening to open. However due to oldest breach being somewhat closer to us in proximity, I’ve managed to at least get a vague notion on that one’s location.”

“Alright, so...interesting stuff...kinda.” I respond before letting out a loud yawn. “Why am I being informed about this?”

“Simple, we’re having you, Yinomi, and Iniko investigate it.” The Primarina responds.

“Oh really? Coo-” I start to answer before pausing. “W-Wait, you want ME to investigate??”

Orabelle speaks up this time. “You got that right, Miko~” The Gothitelle-Hoopa hybrid snickers. One of the golden hoops on her form floats off before spinning in the air, the few rays of sunlight piercing through the canopy bounces off its golden metallic surface.

“W-Why?!” I start, unable to contain my surprise. “I don’t know anything about portals! Why send me?” I turn to Iniko and Yinomi, my expression becoming accusatory. “And why are THEY going?!”

Iniko is the one to speak up now, said Medicham-Tapu Fini hybrid having been silent for the most of the discussion. “We were the initial choices, Miyako.” She growls, her normally calm demeanor replaced with anger in a flash. “I have plenty of experience when it comes to the outside world, and Yinomi is very good at sensing emotions, fallacies, and lies.”

“Oh yeah, Miss ‘You Can Only Tell The Truth Around Me ‘Cus I’m A Walking Lie Detector’.” I mutter, glaring at the Hatterene in question.

Said Hatterene-Reshiram hybrid scowls at me. “I am no less happy to accompany you than you are.” She growls in response. The long hair-like limb behind her head flexes and curves to face me, the end of it opening to reveal a toothy maw.

“Settle down!” Zenoclio shouts, turning our attention back to her.

“Okay, okay, fine!” I grumble, crossing my arms. “So you have the reason for Yinomi and Iniko, but why me? My power is mostly lightning with the occasional good eye for ideals, what’s that meant to contribute?”

“Extra security.” Zenoclio responds swiftly, making me blink again. “Although both Yinomi and Iniko are more than capable to deal with the outside world, having you along with them would guarantee that nothing can cause you any problems.” The next sentence she mutters more quietly. “...Currently Renaetta and Kazashi are too preoccupied, unlike you.”

Pretending to not hear the last bit, I puff my chest a little bit before grinning. “In that case? I’m fine with that~” I pause, realizing something. “But...why aren’t you going?” I then point at Orabelle. “And why isn’t she?”

The Primarina sighs. “If I were to leave this island, I won’t be able to have Xiomara’s assistance in locating these breaches. Keep in mind that our power also diminishes when we leave the proximity of this place.” Her gaze turns to Orabelle. “As for her, she will be transporting you both there as well as keeping you all informed when I find any important info.”

“Yup, I’m just a glorified taxi and messenger.” Said Gothitelle yawns before grabbing the hoop that’s floating beside her, donning it again. “Definitely would’ve been more fun if I were to actually explore for a change.”

“We all know that you will only cause trouble.” Zenoclio responds dryly before narrowing her eyes. “We still remember what happened last time you left to ‘explore’, and you’re lucky that we haven’t informed Xio that you’re still stealing random objects from the outside world with the use of your rings.”

This makes me smirk. Zenoclio definitely has a point, and it’s hard to NOT notice the increasing number of random trinkets that’s in Orabelle’s possession. She’d be absolutely fucked if Xiomara were to actually leave the temple for once and see the mountain of junk.

I still feel bad for the owner of that gaming device, it was apparently well-loved after Orabelle told me how many hours were played on it.

“Hey! that’s a lie!” Orabelle shouts indignantly, standing up angrily. “Everything I have was given to me by Quintoria during her times outside! Since she had them, they’re legitimately bought!”

The air suddenly grows tense. I feel my gaze slowly turn to Yinomi - said Hatterene’s own blue eyes are shining like tiny stars.

Looks like I’m not the only one to be nervous, seeing everyone else’s current reaction.

“Orabelle.” She says in a sweet tone, yet the sheer power and danger coming from her gives her voice a way more terrifying feeling. “You shouldn’t lie, ESPECIALLY when I’m here~”

Immediately the Gothitelle-Hoopa hybrid starts backpedaling, her face sweating bullets. “I-I mean, I mayyybe took a few things, but-”

Yinomi takes a step towards Orabelle, purple fire leaking out of the maw at the end of her hair. “Cease with the lying.” She growls, her smile growing wider and her eyes narrowing further. “And you’re stealing? Out of all the things to do, stealing is an extremely dishonest action to make.”

“UHHH-” Orabelle starts rapidly slinking away, her expression becoming one of panic. “Heh heh, uhh- YEAH I’M GONNA GO BYE!” In an instant she pulls out one of her golden rings, causes said ring to grow in size, dive through the ring, and then have the ring shrink before ultimately vanishing.

Iniko quickly takes a step away from Yinomi before nervously looking at Zenoclio. “I...don’t think we decided on the time. W-When are we leaving?”

To her credit, Zenoclio actually manages to keep a mostly straight face, however even I can tell that she’s definitely a little freaked out due to Yinomi doing Yinomi things. “Initially, I would’ve said that you will leave tomorrow...” Her gaze drifts to the spot where Orabelle used to be. “But after this? Probably a week, assuming that we’re lucky enough to find Orabelle within that time.”

“She knows better than to lie around the Sister of Reshiram.” Yinomi huffs, crossing her arms.

“You should still show some restraint at least, Yino.” Iniko quietly whispers.

The Hatterene lets out a sharp laugh. “Restraint? HA! All of you should know that those who have the audacity to lie near me will receive the appropriate reaction~”

“Anyways...” Zenoclio speaks up, rubbing her cheek with a hand. Her attention turns to me. “Anything else that you have to add? Any more objections...?”

I open my mouth, but no words come out.

Wait...

I’m going outside. Outside as in the outside world. Outside world as in OUTSIDE this island.

Wait wait wait...

I’ve...actually really been wanting to go out for a long time now. I’ve always been envious when Quintoria and Iniko could slip out without Xiomara’s notice.

So since I really do want to go out...

...why the FUCK am I even objecting and questioning this decision?? This is the damn opportunity of a lifetime!

“Nope!” I respond quickly after a short pause, giving a grin that’s a little too wide. “No more objections! Can’t wait to leave!”

My energetic outburst silences the Primarina, who then looks at Yinomi for confirmation. Said Hatterene-Reshiram hybrid merely shrugs in response, looking just as confused as her.

“Well...glad to hear that...” Zenoclio eventually sighs. “You leave as soon as we find Orobelle.” Her eyes harden into a gaze as she looks at Yinomi. “You will be the one primarily searching for her.”

Yinomi merely huffs in response.

#miyakoloprom #seikanixerphox #zenoclioprimalkia #yinomihattram #orabellehoopatelle #inikomedifini #plot

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werevulvi · 5 years ago

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This is not a coming out post or a declaration of new labels in any way, shape or form what so ever. This is merely me venting new thoughts and trying to detangle my feelings. I'm just experimenting around, alright.

I took a break from venting to my partner about my endless gender anxieties and instead turned to an online friend for advice on my situation, because he was open to hear about it, and asked me about my wish to go back on testosterone. This barely adult trans guy who's 10 years younger than myself, only been on testosterone for about a year and fairly recently had top surgery, has become a little bit of a mentor for me... ironically. As just a couple of years ago, I was a bit of a mentor for him as an inspirational "trans elder."

Is it right that I unload my deep, heavy inner struggles on him for advice about transition/detransition stuff? Debatable, but I'm pretty sure I have good influences on this kid, as he has matured and wised up vastly for the past couple of years that we've been friends. And yes, he's totally fine with my "terfy" gender critical, radfem opinions, despite being a transmed/truscum himself. We usually get along just fine, despite our different views. He looks up to me.

So, for whatever it's worth, I really value my friendship with him and I have a lot of respect for him.

So, anyhow. I had a chat with him yesterday, in which he kindly tried to substitute for my absolutely useless therapists. Much appreciated. And it helped me to get a new, fresh perspective on it that sparked a lot of new ideas and feelings within me. Even as a gender critical person, I think it's important to not narrow my mind down to only listening to that one world view. If I'd do that, I'd be no better than the hive-minded TRA's, okay.

What's so fresh about his world view is that he doesn't believe in nonbinary, because he understands that the only sexes that exist are male and female, and that intersex is not a third sex, and otherwise has the quite typical transmedicalist view of gender identity being connected to dysphoria and that that's something trans people are born with, alright. Furthermore, he accepts that he's bio female and always gonna be that way, but just feels better living as a man and passing as male.

So he would never shove the nonbinary label down my throat, like almost everyone else has (including my quack of a gender therapist who literally spews fake-science), and he understand that I really have dysphoria when I describe it to him, despite having mostly thought of me as "a regular cis woman deep down." He understands that my traumas fucked with my perception of gender, takes my autism and BPD into account (he's also autistic and his sister has BPD); but is also quite open to the idea of atypical dysphoria in binary trans people, and that trans men don't have to be masculine, etc. He's also totally fine with my sex-based views on sexual orientation, but regards his own sexual orientation as gender-based. So his perspective differs slightly from my own perspective, but we do have a lot of views on trans stuff in common, and are both respectful of each other's differing views.

That should be the necessary background info about him, I believe. So like... he's not like the harmful TRA's on twitter, even though he has shitty views on bisexuals (yes, that was him in my previous, angry post about bisexuals, lol. We got over that.)

What he suggested to me was basically (my rough translation of a snippet from what he said, what stood out to me the most): "Why not be openly FtM? Accept your female traits (then I mean body and terms like lesbian and that too) but put yourself in a male identity? It sounds kinda like that is what fits the best in your situation when the only thing you have dysphoria over is just what's socially male traits och not the directly bodily." It hit me hard because I had never seen it that way before. It opened up a new posibility, and that's really all I'm saying here. It's a posibility, and I want to explore it. Just telling me that I can be FtM if I just feel like it was not what I needed to hear. I discarded that from others in the past, claiming such an assertion to be silly and illogical. I miss my breasts, I regret my top surgery, I love my female body and I'm proudly a lesbian - I cannot possibly be a trans man because I don't have enough dysphoria for it! -I kept thinking.

But then... when I was instead told that I could be FtM based on that I actually want to and like passing as male, and that I can actually totally be a hyper-feminine, lesbian trans guy who is fine with his female body underneath the clothed surface... THAT lit a light in me. So, why I had been repeatedly discarding the option to be a feminine trans man in the past, wasn't because I genuinely thought it was a dumb idea, but because I didn't believe it could even be an actual option, based on my dysphoria being so... female friendly. Now... I feel like it could be an actual option.

I mean I have healed... A LOT. I've healed my connection to being female a lot. I've even accepted and embraced that I'm a lesbian. I made most of my dysphoria go away. Those are HUGE things that should absolutely not be flushed down the drain. But fact is I'm still dysphoric and without really having seen it that way before, I have been presenting as a feminine/gnc male quite a lot throughout my detransing, and that's what I'm the most comfortable with. I've stated it many times: That I love looking like a gnc man. Being a "male-passing bearded woman" oooh sounds like a trans guy to me?! Well, could be. I've felt consistently uncomfortable trying to pass as female, and my dysphoria has gotten worse the longer I've been off testosterone. Quitting voice training and saving out my beard again felt like two huge reliefs; to embrace my beloved T traits and accept that I cannot possibly hate them.

They are mine, they feel intrinsic and crucial to my body and I want them to stay. Now I'm hassling with my gender clinic to get back on testosterone again. I am going to. If at all possible.

I feel a sense of relief, but also defeat, at the thought of going back to my old label as a trans man. However, it wouldn't be the same as it was back then. I'm a proud lesbian now, I have enough pussy power to empower a whole nation of insecure women, I'm fine with being considered a woman based strictly on my biology, I've healed my connection to my female sex. I feel like a completely different person compared to the miserable, self-hating trans man I was prior to mid 2018, and I would never go back to being that sorta trans man again... but I'm contemplating the posibility of being a lesbian, openly female, gender critical trans man. Because as my friend said: why not? Let's address gender identity quickly: Would I then identify as a man? No, not really. If so, I'd wear the label trans man or FtM in the sense of being a dysphoric female who's happily transitioned, (hopefully) back on testosterone, happily male-passing and living as sort of a man socially. Then I mean living as a man in the sense of deliberately passing as male, going by male terms/pronouns (except from labeling myself lesbian and being fine with using female terms on occasion, depending on the context) but not actually identifying as any sorta gender in particular. Then why calling myself a man at all? Well... because I look like one and I love looking like one. People cannot see or hear in my voice that I'm actually female, and they don't need to know that, except from when they actually do need to know that. I want to be open about my sex being female but I feel like maaaaybe I'm not actually comfortable with calling myself a woman. At least not like 500 times a day. Because personal comfort is more important than politics. Repeat that after me.

This does however, unfortunately but of course, make me re-think my wish got get breast implants. Do I regret my top surgery? Yes. Do I miss having boobs? Yes. But it's hard as hell to present male with obvious boobs that I'd be unable to bind. Both because the implants would likely damage my internal tissues badly if I kept them pressed down like that, and because I've already whacked my ribs from previous binding pre-op. It would be way too dangerous for both those reasons. I can't help that the thought of being a trans man with silicone boobs, after top surgery, sounds insane to me... but I'm trying to look beyond that and focus on what I want for myself and what matters to me personally. If I actuallly, truly, madly, deeply, want new boobs for myself and my private personal life because I think that would improve my connection to my chest... then I should do that regardless of how insane it may seem... because of the label I'm slapping onto my ass.

The questions spinning in my head, about my chest, are:

Can I live with it?

Can I accept that I made a mistake to have top surgery, but move on with my life with how things became?

Would it be easier to become fine with it if I reclaim my former male identity, or just another escape?

Was my wish to get new breasts only connected to my identity as a woman?

Would I be able to let go of my grief and regret, and find the silver lining of having a flat chest, as a self-loving and self-caring, openly FtM person, while presenting as male?

Could I allow myself to enjoy going out bare-chested in public and enjoy the summer breeze, or pool water, directly caressing my skin, if I'd embrace that I actually enjoy looking like and living as a man who is actually female?

If I willingly and wantingly present as male, not just skipping trying to pass as female out of convenience, but embracing my male-passability as a positive thing that I actually enjoy; would that also make me comfortable, or at least okay with, not having breasts?

I need to think through all of those questions. I'll soon have my consultation for breast reconstruction. Fuck. I need another summer to explore and experiment with being flat-chested and how I really, really feel about it. My god, why is this so hard?! (breathe... relax... it’ll be alright.) Yes, I have healed my connection to my femaleness, but was that ever equal to me being happy with living as a woman? Perhaps I went too far with it to actually detransition, when there was an in-between option all along, that I just glossed over and discarded without even entertaining the thought. Perhaps the middle ground that I need to be, is not nonbinary... but a lesbian, openly female trans man? I need to experiment and explore this new-old option which I feel just opened up before me. I'm freeing my aching chest from the heavy breast forms and tight bras, even trying out packing my underwear again (I kept my small "Pierre" packer (uncut version) which is perfect for when wearing skirts, as it barely shows any bulge at all... because boner+skirt is just a really bad look alright), while still wearing my usual feminine style. I'm vaguely considering going swimming in just bottoms again (whether panties or shorts). I'm playing with the rare, male name Saphir in my mind as an alternative to my similar-sounding birth name Sara (which I currently go by, officially), and asking myself gently how I would feel about going by he/him pronouns and male terms again; just to play around and feel things out.

So far... it feels pretty fucking good. But it's only been one day and that's not a lot to go on. I need to give this a hell of a lot more time. I am not done yet. I'm merely starting, again. I only wanted to vent these thoughts and feelings while they're still fresh in my mind. So please excuse the mess, I'm still under construction and it's unfortunately taking a little longer than expected. Thank you for your waning patience.

#detrans female #ftm #gender critical #ftmtf...tm?#just exploring the idea thats all #transition #testosterone #chest issues #labels schlabels #lesbian #dysphoria

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27emailsicantsend · 5 years ago

Note

Could you possible write a dumbass trio fic where they start a band together!!

Author’s Note: This took way too freaking long for me to write and I am so sorry. I got caught up in my AU, but I’m finally getting to writing my requests, and I wanted to start with this one because you have been patiently waiting for it. :) Everything historically reference is canon to the show and based off of the show’s timeline with the Bash-Mitzvah, I’m assuming Cyrus’ birthday is in mid-May when this takes place. They’re also sophomores in high school. Also, I’m lazy and probably won’t go back and check for typo’s, so sorry if there are some. This was fun to write though, so thank you!

Dare for a Dare: A Dumba$$ Trio One Shot

Jonah

“Jonah, you have seriously come so far. You’re almost better than me dude,” Bowie said with a wink. Jonah and Bowie had just finished another practice session at the Red Rooster. When Andi’s family moved to be closer to SAVA, Jonah continued to practice guitar every day after school. It was the only outlet he had for his anxiety, so his consistent practicing became life saving for him. When Andi decided to come back to Grant to be with her friends sophomore year, Bowie took his job back and started training Jonah in many other areas of instruments. He learned guitar, improved his singing, did decent on the drums, but also got his head stuck in a tuba and his finger stuck in a flute. He decided to stick to guitar.

“I am better than you,” Jonah retorted, with a joking undertone. “I love playing so much. I wouldn’t be nearly this good if you guys hadn’t moved back”.

“We’re happy to be back too, kid,” Bowie said as he stood up and gave Jonah’s shoulder a friendly pat. “Don’t forget to put your music stand away,” Bowie called over his shoulder.

Jonah packed up his guitar and shut the case. He knew about all of the stickers on the case, but rarely gave second thought to them. This time he decided to observe them more closely. This was Bowie’s old guitar, so they were stickers from different places he toured. There was even a worn out picture of Bex scotch-taped to the side. Jonah gave it a small smile.

His mind couldn’t help but think about how fun Bowie’s tour days must have been. On the road with his friends, not a care in the world, playing music and making money- it felt like the dream. Jonah knew he was pretty good and a lot of musicians start around the same age as him. Jonah was typically not an impulsive person, but he knew he wasn’t going to make a living off of ultimate frisbee the rest of his life. He realized if he wanted to make his music career happen, he was going to need to start now. And even if it flopped, it would be good experience.

“Hey, Bowie!” Jonah called out.

Bowie came speed walking back into the room. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I think... I want to start a band”. As Jonah said this, he made eye contact with Bowie. Instead of being surprised, Bowie’s face widened into a massive grin.

“For the 100th time, I won’t do it,” TJ said sternly to Cyrus. The two of them were sitting in the choir room, having lunch. TJ had convinced Cyrus that it would be fun to see the view from the roof of the school. The teachers did not find it fun and put them in lunch detention. It felt like de-ja-vu from the first time they got detention together, stealing golf carts.

“Please,” Cyrus begged. “No one will even be able to hear you”.

TJ got a mischievous look in his eye. “Dare for a Dare”.

“NO,” Cyrus immediately rejected. “I won’t. That is literally how we ended up here in the first place”. This was a game TJ invented shortly after he and Cyrus stole golf carts in eighth grade. Cyrus had been trying to work on his confidence and grow outside his safety bubble and this was an easy way to help him with that. The rules are simple: If someone is dared to do something and they do it, the other person has to take on a dare as well. Backing out after already promising Dare for a Dare makes the loser have to buy the winner Baby Taters for a month. Both boys didn’t have jobs (at least that’s what most people thought), so it would wipe either of their savings pretty quickly to lose- thus, the stakes were high.

“Fine then, I won’t do it,” TJ compromised.

“But TJ it’s almost my birthday and all I want is one rap from you,” Cyrus guilted TJ.

“My rapping days are over, Cyrus, you know that. Somehow everyone found out about my rap for Buffy,” TJ shot a glare at Cyrus, “so no, I won’t do it. Beg all you want- it’s not happening”.

Cyrus looked defeated, yet he continued to persist. “TJ, I told you I’m sorry about that. Buffy and I just thought it was really good so we made that video copying it to honor you. We weren’t trying to get the whole school to rap it to you- that was completely unintentional!”

“I told you, I won’t do it, Cy. My music days are over”. Just as TJ said this, as if fate itself had walked through the door, Jonah busted into the choir room.

“Jonah?!” Cyrus and TJ shrieked in unison from the jump-scare.

“What are you doing here?” TJ asked.

“I actually came to practice... wait, why are you guys here?”

Cyrus looked at TJ as if to say, “care to explain?” with his eyes.

TJ heaved a large breath, “Cyrus dared me to eat every lunch special at the spoon in one day, so I dared him to climb to the roof of the school with me and...”

“You got caught?” Jonah finished.

TJ and Cyrus nodded shamefully.

“Well, I’m actually kind of glad both of you are here. I am considering starting a band, but I don’t know anyone else in the school who does music”. Cyrus immediately looked at TJ and TJ shook his head ‘no’.

Jonah didn’t seem to notice so he continued. “I thought about asking Bowie, but I feel like he wouldn’t want to be in a band with a sixteen year old, so that’s when I thought that maybe I could make one of those cool layered videos. You know the ones? Where it’s me playing all of the instruments, but I layer it so it sounds like one song. I need piano and drums so I thought I would come in here and practice piano- if that’s alright with you guys”.

TJ gestured at the piano, “all yours”.

Jonah sat on the bench and pulled out some sheet music. It was printed, but looked fairly simple. He touched each key with shaky hands, pausing every few minutes to push the sheet music up with his other hand. He eventually gave up and only played the song with one hand, while holding the music consistently with the other.

TJ cut off his playing with a question, “you ok there? Looks like you’re struggling a bit”.

“I can’t keep the music up. Would one of you mind holding it for me?”

“Here, try this,” TJ said as he pulled a small silver “w” shaped item out of his bag. He slipped it over the papers, holding them perfectly in place.

“Whoa, that’s so cool- where did you get it?” Jonah asked, impressed.

“Uh... well... remember when I played piano at Andi’s Party in eighth grade? That’s because I had been taking lessons. Now I teach piano to some of the kids that used to go to the gym I worked at. So I just always have this in my bag”.

“Cyrus, did you know about this?” Jonah asked.

“Yes, but TJ doesn’t like talking about his musical abilities because of... something that happened a couple years ago, so I never told anyone”.

“Which I appreciate,” TJ said as he wrapped his arm around Cyrus’ shoulders and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“I completely forgot you played piano, TJ!” Jonah exclaimed. “Why don’t you join my band? It would be so fun and we could make some amazing music”.

“I’m sorry, but no. I don’t want anyone in our school knowing I play”.

Jonah looked glum as he sat quietly for a couple of minutes with the boys. But then, inspiration struck. Jonah pulled a ski mask out of his backpack. Since it was the end of the school year, Jonah had been cleaning out his locker earlier and found a ski mask he ended up having to use for a particularly cold, windy day during the winter.

“Do you think you could play with this on?” Jonah asked.

“Erm... let me see”. TJ slipped the cotton mask over his head and went to the piano. He effortlessly began to play Moonlight Sonata. Jonah and Cyrus exchanged positive glances.

“TJ, would you like to join my band? No one will know it is you, it will give you something fun to do, and it could be really good practice to help you teach those kids”.

TJ pulled the mask off his head and ran his fingers through his thick blonde hair. “Absolutely,” he said grinning.

Marty

Buffy was sitting at Marty’s kitchen counter, watching him quietly put away dishes. He was humming to himself as he stacked each plate in neatly. He shut the door to the dishwasher and it began to whir, making a gentle steam sound.

He walked over to the counter across from Buffy and leaned over it, giving her a quick peck on the lips. “You ready to go do homework?”

“Am I ever ready?” Buffy asked un-amused.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Marty giggled to himself.

Buffy sighed as she hopped down from the stool and grabbed her backpack. They walked up to his bedroom, sat on the floor, and began to work.

About two hours later, books and papers were sprawled around them. Buffy was now laying on her stomach in Marty’s hoodie (because the AC in his house was too cold for her), and Marty was thinking carefully about a math problem. He bit his pencil eraser in concentration and began to write, humming again.

“What’s that song you keep humming?” Buffy asked.

“Huh?” Marty asked as his head snapped up from the world his head was in.

“The song? You’ve been humming it all day. It’s kinda good- I was just wondering what song it was?”

“Oh, it’s called ‘Beautiful’ by Bazzi. I’m surprised you haven’t heard it. It was pretty big a few years ago”.

“Yeah, I never have... but I’ve never even really heard you sing before. Can you sing?”

“Ah... I don’t know,” Marty replied shyly. “I never really tried”.

About two hours later, after they had all finished eating dinner, Buffy and Marty laid on the couch, cuddling. He had his arm behind her, holding her up from rolling off. She was using his chest as a pillow. He began to sing, not hum, the song from earlier quietly in her ear as he traced his fingers gently up and down her arm.

Buffy began to melt. His voice was simple and pure. It took no effort for him to sing each note on pitch and keep the sound warm. He was naturally gifted- there was no question about it. When he finished singing, Buffy sat up, twisting her head to look at him. He continued to stay laying down, but scooted his body so his back was more propped against the arm rest.

“Marty, you can sing,” she said sincerely.

“What? No. That’s not true,” Marty said, blushing and looking down.

“Marty, I’m not messing around. You can sing and you’re really good. No one has told you this before?”

“I guess I never really sing in front of people. You’re my girlfriend, so I felt comfortable. But now I feel uncomfortable,” Marty swung his legs behind Buffy so that he was sitting upright on the couch again.

“I didn’t say that to make you uncomfortable,” Buffy said, slightly annoyed. “I said it because I meant it. It’s a real talent you have and you could do so much with it”.

Marty scoffed, “like what? Join a band?”

Buffy rolled her eyes and kissed his cheek. “Whatever you would like,” she said as she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and laid her head down on the one closest to her.

The Band

The next day, was a beautiful Saturday with a lot of sunshine and birds chirping freely. Marty and Buffy walked hand in hand down the main street of Shadyside. They saw Jonah as they passed Red Rooster. Buffy nodded her head in the direction of the window and the two walked in.

“Hey Jonah,” Buffy said as the two sat down on the couch. He was sitting on the coffee table playing the same chord progression over and over. He seemed to keep getting stuck at the same note.

“Hey guys, how are you?” He fumbled the progression again.

“Good,” Buffy replied. “What are you up to?”

“I’m trying to get this chord progression, but I keep fumbling on the G”.

“Can I see?” Marty asked.

“Sure,” Jonah said as he gave him a suspicious look, but handed the guitar over anyway.

Marty set the guitar in his lap and played the chord perfectly. “You were holding your hand wrong. This is how you play it”. Marty showed him once again.

Buffy watched with a bewildered look in her eye. “What else do I not know about you?”

Marty shrugged casually and handed the guitar back to Jonah. Jonah tried the way Marty showed him and got the progression immediately. “Whoa! Thanks dude!” He said, beaming. “I had no idea you played guitar!”

“Neither did I,” Buffy shot back.

“Oh, it’s just a little side hobby I’ve been learning,” Marty said, nonchalant.

They all sat in silence for a moment, then Jonah asked, “hey, I know this is weird, but how would you feel about joining a band?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Marty asked.

“No, I’m dead serious,” Jonah said and the look on his face showed he meant it. “You’re really good. That’s a hard progression and you got it immediately. I’m starting a band to help with my music career and I would love another person in it”.

“Would it just be us two?” Marty asked, more interested now.

“Well, there is one other person... but he asked to remain anonymous to the general public. You’ll know who it is when you see him”.

“Marty, you should also tell Jonah you can sing”.

This time, it was Jonah’s turn to look bewildered at Marty. “You can sing too??”

“Apparently,” Marty said, unenthusiastic.

“And he’s really good,” Buffy supported him. “Sing that song you sang to me earlier”.

Marty obliged. When he finished singing, all Jonah could say was, “whoa”.

Buffy shook her head, “I know”.

On Sunday, Marty was in the kitchen having a snack with Buffy, when he heard his doorbell ring. The band was going to have their first practice, so it must have been Jonah and the “mysterious piano player” at the door.

“I’ll get it,” Marty said, mouth full of oreos. He swung the door open and was greeted by three faces: Jonah, TJ, and Cyrus. “Hey guys! Come on in!”

The boys gave each other fist bumps and bro-hugs to greet one another (except Cyrus who insisted on gentle, long hugs from each of them). They all made their way to the kitchen. Buffy saw Cyrus and immediately began to bust up laughing. “Ok, now I know this is a joke. Cyrus does not have musical ability”.

“Hey!” Cyrus retorted offensively.

“You know it’s true,” Buffy countered.

“I know...” Cyrus said glumly.

“Actually,” Jonah said, pulling TJ in for a side-hug, “TJ is going to be our piano player. But he can’t if he gets made fun of again. You and Cyrus have to promise not to make a video mocking him again. We don’t need a ‘rapping incident’ repeated”.

“You take the fun out of everything,” Buffy pouted.

“Buffy... I really need you to cooperate. This will be helpful for all of us, including your boyfriend,” Jonah lectured. Buffy looked over at Marty, who was standing in the most uncomfortably correct posture she had ever seen.

“Fine...,” Buffy cowered down.

“Well, let’s go make some music boys!” Jonah exclaimed.

The five of them went into Marty’s basement and began to set up. He had a keyboard, his guitar, an old drum set from when his dad was in a high school jazz band, some music recording equipment that his older sister used at times, and a old, raggedy blue couch. The boys began to set up and choose who would play what. Jonah could also play drums, so they decided that he would switch between bass and drums depending on the song. TJ took keyboard, which left Marty with lead guitar and singer. All three boys could sing, so they decided to try and alternate who was singing at times. Cyrus and Buffy laid on the couch talking and browsing their phones while they half-listened to the boys practice. The practice was rough, but they figured it was because it was their first time playing together.

“Even though it was rough, I’m really impressed. Hey, would you guys be willing to play at my birthday party? It’s two weeks from now,” Cyrus asked, hopeful.

The boys looked at each other uncomfortably for a minute and then Jonah caved, “sure”.

TJ began to panic. “What? No! We won’t be ready by then. I won’t be ready be then, especially”.

“TJ,” Jonah said sympathetically, “we have a cover for you, we have a couple weeks to practice and it’s Cyrus’ birthday. We should do it”.

“I don’t know...” TJ hesitated.

“Dare for a Dare,” Cyrus said. This peaked TJ’s interest.

Buffy shook her head, “oh no”. She hated this game.

“I’m listening,” TJ said.

“You perform at my birthday and you can dare me. You can wear the mask, exit off stage quietly, we won’t have to say anything about you playing”.

“Ok, fine,” TJ said thoughtfully. “But you have to perform a solo dance number at your birthday”.

This absolutely terrified Cyrus and the entire room could feel that.

“What if I take on a dare for him?” Marty interjected.

“What do you mean?” TJ asked.

“Exactly what I said. What if I did Dare for a Dare instead. I dare you to perform at the party and you dare me to do something”.

“I guess we could do that...” TJ agreed.

Cyrus let out a giant sigh of relief. “Oh my gosh thank you Marty I thought I was going to die,” Cyrus said in one breath.

“Ok fine. If I play... then you have to juggle five of those baseballs,” TJ said, pointing to a small stack of baseballs in the corner of the basement.

Marty walked over and without saying a word, picked up five baseballs and juggled them flawlessly. He began to add tricks, throwing them under his leg, behind his head and even to Jonah and catching it when Jonah threw it back.

Buffy’s eyes were wide in amazement. There was nothing he couldn’t do. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said as Marty walked back over, put the baseballs in her arms and kissed her cheek.

The next week and a half was practicing every day after school. The boys began to get really in sync with each other- sounding almost flawless. They were only practicing one song, however. But for them, practicing it that much made them sound like an actual band. Buffy and Cyrus got bored after the first practice so they would hang out at Buffy’s house while the boys practiced.

Cyrus was going through Buffy’s closet, when he came across a feathered boah. He took one end and flipped it over his shoulder. “How do I look?” he asked Buffy, one arm on his hip.

“Stunning as always,” Buffy encouraged. She stood up and put a black fedorah on her head. “How am I?”

“Beautiful as always,” Cyrus parroted.

They giggled for a minute, until Cyrus looked sad. He took the boah off and placed it back on it’s hook.

“What’s up?” Buffy asked sincerely. She took the hat off and they both walked over to her bed and sat down.

“Do you think the band will actually play? I feel really bad we ruined TJ’s music career. I think he’s really talented, but because of us he wouldn’t talk about music for almost two years. I feel like he’s ashamed because of me. I didn’t even know he was still playing and teaching piano until a few months ago. I mean, how do you go that long without knowing something like that about your own boyfriend?”

“Trust me. I get it,” Buffy said, unamused.

The night of Cyrus’ birthday party all of the boys were getting ready to play backstage. Marty was warming up his voice, TJ was massaging his hands, and Jonah was tuning the strings on Marty’s guitar. Cyrus walked in and handed TJ his mask. “For you,” he said as he stood on his tiptoes to kiss his boyfriend’s cheek. TJ looked solemnly at the mask.

“So I realized, I need to introduce you, but you guys don’t have a band name,” Cyrus said.

“I guess with all of the practicing we’ve been doing, we haven’t even thought of one,” Jonah remarked.

“I mean, they might be fine without a name,” Buffy stated. She was laying in a chair with her legs draped over the edge while she picked at a chocolate chip cookie. “Like, think about it, the only reason TJ agreed to do this was because of Dare for a Dare”.

While Buffy giggled to herself, all of the boys looked at each other and shouted in unison, “DARE FOR A DARE!”

They each began to shout, “Buffy, you’re a genius!” “That’s the perfect name!” “I love it!”

Buffy wanted to be proud, but she felt more annoyed than anything that that stupid game is what became their band name.

“I love it,” Marty said as he kissed the tip of her nose.

She just smiled as she said, “yeah, yeah, yeah” and shooed him off.

Cyrus looked at his watch, “crap! It’s time! You ready?”

All of the boys hesitated to smile, but nodded that they were. Cyrus ran on stage and introduced them.

“... and now I present, Dare for a Dare!”

The boys walked out on stage. They were in a rec center that had a small performing stage. There were a ton of people at this party and it reminded them of his Bar Mitzvah. Buffy and Cyrus ran to where the crowd was as the boys began to sing. Suddenly, halfway through the song, TJ ripped off his mask, came around from the piano, mic in hand and screamed, “and this one is for the birthday boy!”

He rapped the best birthday rap Cyrus had ever heard in his life. Everyone clapped and cheered when the boys finished and all of them ran off stage. Buffy couldn’t resist herself and immediately kissed Marty the second he was next to her. Jonah ran off to talk to some friends. TJ walked over to Cyrus shyly. “How did I do?”

Cyrus’ eyes were wide. “That. Was. Perfect. I loved it!” TJ giggled a sigh of relief and hugged Cyrus. The rest of the night the band and all of their loved ones danced, laughed, and joked around together. It was the start of a beautiful era.

Requested by: @losrgeekwhatevr

#andi mack #dumba$$ trio #muffy #marty from the party #buffy driscoll #tyrus #am #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #one shot #jonah beck #bowie mack #asks #send me asks

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acraftedmistake · 5 years ago

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A Person Who Has Never Played MCSM Writes A Story About MCSM Chp. 4

Thank you all for your patience! I was so caught up with school stuff (then had to go a week without internet connection rip)! So with all my free time I wrote about double the amount of words I usually wrote per chapter (about 9 PAGES in google docs DANG)! It was gonna be even LONGER but I’m saving that for chapter 5!

Thanks again for your patience! And I hope you enjoy the chapter!! <3

It had been half an hour of walking It didn’t feel that long to Jesse and Olivia, who were too preoccupied with discussing their current situation, but Aiden and Rose felt every one of those thirty minutes. If they weren’t walking beside each other in an irritated, wordless manner, they’d start talking with each other, which would quickly develop into an argument, which would then result in them giving each other the silent treatment. From a bystander’s point of view, Jesse wasn’t necessarily sure if they were progressing or even reached an agreement at any point, but Jesse was hoping that the two of them wouldn’t act this way during the questioning--wouldn’t want that to be awkward. Jesse turned to his friend who was stressing over what had happened in the last hour; the shrine, the carving of the man, Aiden’s attitude, it all seemed like a lot for her at the moment. Olivia had been rambling incoherently, her words merging together as she spoke at a ridiculously fast rate. Jesse had tuned out Olivia’s maunder while observing her; Her eyes darted around as she tugged a lock of her thick black hair with one hand, gesturing with her other hand, moving it about so much that Jesse thought it’d snap off. “... Maybe I’m just overreacting but do you see where I’m coming from? Jesse?” Olivia quickly asked, her voice cracking a little. Jesse stared at her blankly, trying to recall what topic they were going on about, he looked down in embarrassment and opened his mouth, contemplating what to say when Olivia let out a defeated--and worried--whine. “Were you even paying attention?” “It’s not that--I’m sorry I was just keeping an eye on Aiden and Rose, I kinda got lost in my thoughts.” Jesse shoved his hands in his pockets as his ears turned red. Olivia folded her arms, hugging herself, she shook her head “No, don’t be. We’re both worried about this whole... Mess.” Jesse looked ahead, they were getting closer and closer to the town with each step, though it was quite a challenge to properly examine it. From what Jesse could make out, the town looked like a big, black rectangle with a vague gate shaped structure in front of it, a few tips of buildings were peaking above the structure, but that’s about it. The once colorful sky was consumed by hues of dark blue with white specs scattered about; the moon was full, bright and brilliant, acting like a spotlight for the four; had it not been for that, the town would be nearly invisible in the night’s sky. Breaking the moment of silence, Jesse spoke up, “Sooo... Any theories on where we might be?” he kept his eyes on the sky. Olivia tapped her chin and clicked her tongue, “Well, from what we’ve seen so far--and what we’ve experienced--there’s not too much to work with. At first, I thought we just entered a portal which lead to another temple in our world, but- OH JESSE!” she shrieked, Jesse’s heart stopped for a split second, Aiden and Rose stopped walking and spun around. Jesse felt Olivia grab his hand while he felt his foot reach out, landing on absolutely nothing. He brought his eyes down as the weight of his body leaned forward, mere inches from walking straight into a ravine. The fracture on the world’s surface seemed bottomless, the lava and waterfalls that spewed from the sides would keep running down till they were engulfed in the abyss which hid the ground of the chasm. And while Jesse couldn’t see it, his mind was filled with images of hundreds of monstrous spiders and rotting corpses roaming about, He heard desperate gasps--his own heavy breathing--as Olivia slowly pulled him back to her side, a few feet away from the ravine. Clutching his chest with his hand, he felt himself shake like a leaf, staring at what could’ve been his grave with wide, white eyes. “You okay?” Olivia asked, carefully placing her hand on her friend’s shoulder. Jesse nodded once and mouthed the word “thanks”, he took a couple more steps back before continuing their walk towards the town, remaining close by his friend’s side, the vision of the ravine’s drop still fresh in his mind. “Come on Aiden, we’re almost home.” Rose said; Aiden felt his body relax, his jaw unhinged. He was about two meters away from Rose, he must’ve started running--or at the very least, speed walked--to help Jesse, it happened almost on command; he didn’t even need to think about it, which might’ve been why he didn’t notice. “... Right.” Aiden hesitantly turned back to Rose, taking big heavy steps that’d hit the ground with a thud, not making any other sound. Rose, without even glancing at Aiden, asked “You still have some sorta soft spot for him?” in an unamused tone. He didn’t say anything at first, but soon grumbled “I didn’t want Jesse to die before he got back to our place.” Rose, not knowing whether Aiden was upset at himself or at her, decided not to ask anymore questions. Pushing her glasses up, the two of them walked in silence once again. ~~~~~ “JEEZ, that had to have been the eighth rivine we passed by tonight! It’s ridiculous,” Olivia’s head turned towards Jesse’s near death experience. “So- as you were saying?” Jesse attempted to ask in a casual manner, his heart still pounding in his chest, Olivia looked at him, bewildered. “You almost died and you want to continue our conversation?!” “Would you like to hear what your life flashing before your eyes is like instead?” Olivia hesitated, “Uh... Not yet.” Adjusting the oversized leather jacket covering her body, she backtracked and mouthed the bits of their previous conversation that she could remember until a lightbulb went off. “So there’s not too much to work with right now, but my best theory right now is that we’ve found another portal that lead to Sky City. That could explain bits of how Aiden’s acting, he wasn’t happy to see you but he didn’t... Want to... Stab you?” she shrugged uncertainly at her duff attempt at adding humor to the explanation. She glanced at Rose then back at Jesse, “And it’s the only way I could think of who Rose is and why she’s with Aiden. Maybe when everyone left Sky City and started their new life on land, the two met and bonded?” “But Aiden had Gill and Maya, those two would follow him everywhere like puppies. He wouldn’t ditch those two for someone else!” Jesse pointed out, “I know, but there are so many other possibilities, it’s hard to pinpoint an exact answer.” Olivia’s shoulders drooped as her fingers tapped against the leather sleeve quickly, producing a continuous pattering sound. “Maybe Obsidian Town will give us some answers.” Jesse suggested in an effort to give his friend hope. She chuckled, “I just hope they don’t wanna kill us on the spot.” “Alright you two, buddy-buddy time is over, we’re getting close to the town, we’re gonna need to hold your hands--arms again.” Rose announced, her voice echoing throughout the empty field, she leaned over to Aiden and whispered, “There HAS to be a word for the way we hold it.” “What, why?!” Jesse asked as he kept an eye on the girl with glasses, the moon’s light shining on her pale face, the broad man right by her side. “Because-” Before Aiden could start, Rose cut in, “Because unless you want to get an angry horde of people coming after you--OR make our lives much harder, you have no better option.” Jesse caught a glimpse of how far they were from their next location, and it was safe to assume they were only a five minute walk away from the town’s main entrance. He could make out much more of the place than he did before; a tall, dark wall stood proud and most likely surrounded the town, stretching on for--give or take--half a mile. Two, thin watchtowers were on both ends of the wall with dim lights shining from both of them, barely lighting their surrounding area. There was a large arch shaped gate made up of stone and wood; bits of houses and other buildings could be seen. He brought his attention back to Rose and Aiden, who were getting closer to them. Jesse felt himself instinctively take a step back as Aiden approached them. “Fine but,” he clasped his hands together, “Could you not hold it as hard as last time?” “If you make it easy for us, sure. And you know what?” Rose’s tone took a more optimistic, but clearly mocking, tone “If the idea of Aiden holding your sensitive hands bother you so much, I can do it instead!” Without giving Jesse a chance to respond, she forcefully spun him around and grabbed his wrists, her sharp nails digging into his skin. Jesse gritted his teeth and cringed, holding back the urge to say anything in fear that she’d only shove her nails even deeper into his arm. Aiden took notice of Rose’s little interaction but decided against the idea of commenting, not wanting to spark another argument. He turned to Olivia, who already put her hands behind her back, though her body was facing away from the tall man, her face was tilted ever so slightly to see Aiden from the corner of her worried filled eyes. “Alright, let’s go.” Aiden said as he carefully held Olivia’s wrists together; his grip loose enough that Olivia thought she could slip out of his hands--but that was just a thought. Jesse took the time to get a better look at the front of the town’s large gate, which appeared to be in perfect condition, almost as if it were never used. His eyes drifted towards the thick walls and let out a tiny gasp. The entire thing was made out of “... Obsidian...” he mumbled. He heard Rose make a snide comment under her breath. Brushing aside Rose’s commentary, he noticed that they were slowly leaving the dusky, grassy land, as two beams of bright light coming from the top of the gate--most likely from glowstone--shone down upon them. Jesse squinted, looking up at the top of the gateway, he was able to make out the silhouette of two people, but he was unable to decide whether those were guards keeping watch, or just people who happened to be hanging around. Admittingly, Jesse was looking forward to seeing Obsidian Town and its residents. “Put your head down.” Rose ordered, pushing him down with great force, not giving Jesse the chance to react. A bit of Olivia’s hat covered one of his eyes, he wished he could shift it to a more comfortable position, but all he did was sigh to himself as he stared down at the dirt path below them. Olivia, not wanting to get the same treatment as her friend, zipped her head to the ground. The dirt path ended abruptly at a wooden bridge underneath the gate that overshadowed them and hid the light; after that, the floor underneath them was concrete. Jesse could hear the footsteps of citizens roaming about, conversations in the distance, doors opening and closing. As they kept going on, there’d be the occasional “Hello!” to Aiden and Rose, they seemed to be pretty well known--even liked--in this town. No one had said anything to or about Olivia and Jesse, but he could feel all eyes on them, locked onto them like hawks, but there was nothing that could be done except to continue walking in shame like a criminal being escorted to jail. From what little Jesse could make out, the place gave off a friendly feeling; people out in the evening, the streetlamps giving the area a nice, calm lighting, hopefully him and Olivia will get the chance to explore the site. “I don’t think we took too long in there, did we?” Aiden asked Rose, who thought for a second before shaking her head, “Couldn’t have been more than an hour, maybe a little bit less if you exclude the walk to and from the shrine.” “Hopefully the others didn’t get worried and wander off,” he twisted his head at the gate, eyeing the flat land they had walked through.. She shook her head, “No,” she pushed up her glasses, “Gill, maybe, but I’m sure they’re still waiting. Now let’s hurry up, I don’t wanna-” Rose’s talking came to a stop as she let out a quiet, but elongated groan. “Great...” Aiden brought his attention back to the path in front of him and perked up, holding Olivia with one hand, he waved, “Oh, hey Radar!” Jesse froze, he felt his heart pounding in his chest, a weird sense of relief washed over him, thankful that someone who actually liked him was here. Footsteps approached the four, Jesse wanted to see his good friend, glasses and all, but he kept his head down, only able to see Radar’s black, oxford shoes. “Aiden,” Jesse heard Radar’s high pitch voice began, “Ro-” “We��re not on that level of friendship yet, Radar.” Rose stated coldly, adding an icy glare to complete the sentence. Halting for a moment, he folded his arms and continued “Sorry, Cassie... Rose. Moving on,” Radar kept talking, but his words blurred together, everything became muffled and Jesse felt his palms get sweaty. The nails digging into him no longer bothered him, his heart was pounding in his throat as the sound boomed throughout his head. Cassie Rose--a murderer who despised him--was holding onto him, they’ve been interacting this whole time, and he didn’t notice the red flags. His body tensed up, he wanted to rip his arms out of her grip and knock her down, maybe run, but he was sure that doing so would make the situation far worse. Jesse tuned back into the conversation, trying to take his mind off of the reveal so he could remain calm. “... I’m glad you two didn’t take too long at The Shrine of Eyes; when I heard that a green glow was seen, I knew something terrible had happened. What did you find?” what Jesse found peculiar about Radar was, despite sounding like the prelude of a flute, was very monotonic, never shifting from its flat tone. “We didn’t have a chance to see the portal activated, but we DID find these two kids who apparently snuck in.” Aiden nudged Olivia along and started walking, Jesse and Rose soon following behind, “We’re gonna question them with the others.” Radar got close to them, specifically close to Jesse, he leaned close to him, “Do you believe they’re--” Rose shoved the black haired man away, catching him off guard as his glasses slipped down his nose, “Nope. Not apart of the group. We gotta go now.” she gave Jesse a light kick in his ankle, making him speed up just a bit more, “Rose is right, see you tomorrow.” Aiden added, not looking back at Radar. “But how can you be so sure if-” “GoodBYE, Radar.” Rose ended sternly, leaving him behind as he watched them walk away, confused. After traveling roughly a block in silence, with both Olivia and Jesse’s minds racing all over the place, they began slowing down, approaching a three story house, its shape resembling an octagon. The walls were mostly made up of birch wood with spruce planks--probably--dividing up each floor of the house; double doors were front and centered, with small windows on each side. There was another large window in the middle of the house, a faint light from the room shone through the glass, with a couch and small table visible, but that’s all that could be seen for now. The third floor had a window in the center as well, but it was noticeably smaller and had no light source, looking more like a void than anything else. The roof was also made of spruce wood, parts of it hung off the edge, a cobblestone fence at the top. There was also a nice cobblestone fence that was surrounding a small portion in the front of the house, the front yard decorated with a small handful of tulips, lilacs, and roses. Two glowstone lamps were on each side of the house, a good 5 or so feet away, the group stood underneath the lamp on the left side, talking amongst themselves. “We don’t know who’s where in the house,” Aiden started, “Or who’s even there.” Rose added, “Right, so the best thing to do is to call everyone down and just break the news to them.” Aiden turned towards Olivia and Jesse, “I’ll signal you two when you can come inside, it shouldn’t take too long.” Olivia responded with a “Got it!”, while Jesse nodded, albeit a bit sceptical. Aiden and Cassie Rose began heading towards the front door, the redhead faced them, “Don’t move from this spot.” she pierced through Jesse’s eyes, “If you run off, we’ll find you.” she continued walking, but her eyes were still locked onto Jesse, unblinking. The two stood in front of the spruce double doors, discussing something as Olivia and Jesse watched in the distance, the redstone lamp feeling more like a spotlight than a street light. Jesse lifted his head to get a chance to look at a small portion of Obsidian town; most of the town was hidden in the dark, the lights barely illuminating the pathways, some buildings were much more visible than others. Across from Aiden’s house, there was a row of small businesses: A blacksmith, a general store, a place to enchant items, and a library in the middle of them all. What was peculiar about them was that they were all still open, bustling with activity, lights on or music playing. From what could be seen through the windows, people were talking amongst themselves, reading, maybe snacking, it was quite busy for an evening. “Weird that these stores are still open...” Jesse observed, Olivia shuffled a few steps closer to him, “Are we allowed to stop looking down??” “Oh uh- I just kinda- Stopped. Looking down.” he shrugged but immediately shifted focus, “Wait wait wait! What about Cassie Rose!? How crazy is that??” he whisper shouted. Olivia’s eyes went wide, “Oh my gosh- right?! Completely out of nowhere, I’m surprised she didn’t strangle us on the spot.” “Maybe it’s because Aiden was with us,” speaking of, Jesse looked back at the house, Aiden and Cassie Rose were no longer there, the doors were wide open, some of the lights from inside were released, dazzling the tiny garden. Olivia watched the door keenfully, she didn’t want to worry Jesse, but her mind had already raced to several different scenarios where the two of them would be attacked, kidnapped, held hostage--though that’s similar to kidnapping--she couldn’t see any good outcome to this situation. And though she hates to think it, she sort of blames Jesse for wounding them up here. She’s not exactly mad at Jesse, he’s a reliable friend, he’s always there to help out or be a shoulder to lean on, making sure his friends were never down, motivating them--but christ can he never seem to plan ahead. He might consider an option or think about a situation for a moment, but afterwards he’ll dally off to whatever piques his curiosity, or say whatever he feels is right for the problem, not thinking about the consequences. This has led them to getting in h multiple times, including this one. While cautiously keeping an eye on the door, she heard the murmur of a voice, but didn’t pay any mind to it. The voice came again, then suddenly, a hand placed itself on her shoulder and shook her. “Olivia!” Jesse said quietly, “Let’s go.” he motioned towards the doors, Aiden’s--well anything above his chest area--stuck out, his legs still in the house as he waved at them in a somewhat secretive manner. Olivia and Jesse speed walked to the front yard, making sure to avoid the delicate flowers as the sound of a bustling conversation grew more and more loud. Aiden quickly signaled them to “Stop” right before entering the building. He stepped into the house again, the once lively chat died down, a few hushes could be heard, the area fell silent, the faint background music barely filling in the void. Coming out again, Aiden nodded, “Alright, come in. Slowly.” adding a hint of emphasis on “slowly”. Olivia was the first to enter; a living room with two large, light green couches, an armchair to match, and a wall covered with bookshelves from top to bottom sat on the right side of the room, shrouded in darkness, none of the lamps turned on. The same couldn’t be said for the left area of the house, a kitchen with it’s own bar table shone brightly, the metal pieces of the kitchen reflected and glared, and the laminated maple wood floor was polished to the point where you could see your reflection. But the interior was not Olivia’s biggest concern when she looked at who was sitting at the bar table-- There was Stella, who was sitting on one of the tall, cool gray bar stools, her back straight, hands folded in her lap while her pure diamond--almost bleach-like--side cut, hair was resting by her shoulder, hanging about. Sitting next to her was Gill, who wore a t-shirt that faded from a dark blue to white; compared to his loose and comfortable looking khakis, the shirt he wore appeared clingy or tight, stretching/straining against his large build, giving it a more refined shape. He was balancing the stool on its two hind legs; his legs crossed and on the table, one hand on his stomach while the other was stroking his short, brown boxed beard, stubbles leading to his buzz cut hairstyle, which was a little fluffy.. Then there was Maya, who, unlike the other two, was sitting on the table itself, arms folded and legs dangling off the edge. Like Aiden, she had a leather jacket of her own, but it was noticeably thinner, the sleeves rolled up, each one having its own little, golden button, which complimented her hair clip and her black boots with gold colored straps. A bold colored shirt, collar being a bright yellow--along with the bottom--with the rest of the article mostly being candy apple red, helped the big, navy blue “E” stand out in the smack center. ‘Great. This is amazing. It’s not like these people despise me, or wanna throw me off a cliff-’ Olivia thought to herself, her breathing becoming unsteady as she kept opening her closing her increasingly sweating hands. The three stared at Olivia, slack jawed, their faces white as a sheet. Their gaped eyes focused on her, as if they encountered a ghost or some otherworldly creature. Olivia licked her lips, and let out a weak, cracky “Hi...”, uncertain whether or not she should say something to break the tension. Stella’s once stiff posture loosened up as she leaned over the table, as if inspecting the girl, her arms slowly moving out of her lap and onto the top, hands flat and stiff. Her mouth was parted, seeking out the right words to say, but nothing came. Gill almost stumbled out of his chair and--had it not been for his quick reaction--saved himself from falling off. He ended up stepping off and standing still, the bar acting like a border between his friends and Olivia. Maya’s eyes flickered, she scooted herself off of the table, stepping closer to Olivia, who stood as still as a statue, her eyes following the russet haired girl with her eyes. “You weren’t kidding...” Maya finally said, leaning close to the black, curly haired girl, who used Aiden’s jacket as a shell to hide in. Staring back at Aiden, who was leaning against the wall by the door, she continued “This is... ‘Shocking’.” Cassie Rose nodded, “We’re not entirely sure if she’s the ‘real deal’ or not, so don’t get too touchy.” “What??” Gill ran back up to the table--scaring Stella--and slid to the top in such an awkward position that the others thought he would fall off. “How could she not be real?! She’s right there! Right in front of us!” “Yeah, I know but,” Rose adjusted her glasses and turned to the front door, “We have some reasonable doubts.” Aiden rose, the two exchanged a look of agreement towards each other. Sticking his head out the door again, Aiden mumbled “Alright, come in.” to Jesse, who had been against the wall, next to the door outside, listening. Jesse mouthed the word okay as he took the green hat off and held it close to his chest, squeezing it tightly. He wasn’t sure what to expect, he could only make out bits and pieces of whatever was going on inside. He stepped in and the second he passed the doorway, he scanned the dumbfounded and dazed faces along with Olivia’s jittery expression. It felt as though a bomb had dropped in his stomach, a sickly, queasy feeling twisted his guts as he could make out Maya, Gill, and Stella, whose attentions were all on him now. Their once astonished faces shifted to a brief flash of confusion, anger, then finally, wrath.

#minecraft story mode #mcsm #mcsm aiden #mcsm olivia #mcsm jesse #mcsm radar #fanfic #fan fiction #APWHNPMCSMWASAMCSM #AU fic

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nowitsdarkfic · 5 years ago

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chapter seventeen (bleached nirvana underpants)

December 20, 1988. Belltown, Washington.

The hotel Lars and the girls had helped me pick out is a long low inn in the shape of an “L”, with a slanted black roof and a wrap around black screen on the outside walls on one side. It's probably the one thing here in the central part of the city that actually has some life to it with a few people congregated near the big screen. As the seven of us are stepping into the front lobby for the five of us guys to check in for the night, I catch a glimpse of the words “Maxwell Industries” imprinted on the edge of the screen.

I knew it. I'm getting closer. At least I hope I am.

I'm not really up for another round of hockey after what happened earlier. I think it might have to do with the fact that we participated in that right after we got off the plane, but I can't really say for sure. We surely had our work cut out for us against a bunch of cyborgs.

Lars, Spence, and I are sharing a room right across the parking lot, which means Lars and I are probably going to have to sleep head to toe again tonight. I just hope I don't kick him in the head again because I need him to be well rested so we can do a little snooping around here in the heart of downtown. This band Nirvana, the one that's playing down the road from us in Hoquiam, is a good reason to stay here for a couple of days before Christmas. I'm looking forward to seeing them as well as roaming about the streets of downtown Seattle in order to figure some things out. I wonder if we'll run into Nancy and Dominique at some point as I unlock the door of our room.

It's a small room with two queen sized beds and a rickety looking nightstand right in between them. Right across the room is a walk-in closet and the bathroom. To my left stands the dresser which holds the TV and a little coffee maker with a bunch of paper cups. Reminds me of all the rooms I stayed in with Anthrax.

The four of us amble into the room and set down our things, but before I can take off my coat and my shirt, Spence already has me beat, peeling off his shirt and ducking into the bathroom for a shower with his shampoo in hand.

“Damn it!” I blurt out and he bursts out laughing. Meanwhile, on the first bed right next to me, Lars groans in pain as he sinks down right on the edge: he's gripping onto his cane like it's about to get away from him.

“Are you alright?” I ask him in a kind voice.

“In pain. Horrible pain. God, it hurts so bad.”

“Do you want me to get you something?”

“No, no. It's fine.”

“No. Dude—” I'm interrupted by Spence muttering “ah, man” to himself, and the sound of his voice is then followed by the loud whistle of the shower head in the bathroom.

“Jesus,” I say aloud, and then I return my attention to Lars. “Anyways, it looks like a part of your body is about to explode, dude. I'm gonna get you something for the pain.”

“No, Joey. Please. No.”

“Lars,” I say to him.

“I just have to—God, I don't even know—”

“Lars!”

He quips something to me in words that don't sound English.

“I don't speak freaky weaky Danish,” I scoff at him.

“I made up the whole thing about Dominique calling everyone you knew after the accident,” he confesses in a single breath.

“What?”

“I made the whole thing up!”

“What—” I run both my hands through my hair. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I was under the influence of a ton of morphine then, alright?”

“That doesn't explain that, though! Or justify it for that matter!”

“I made it up because I didn't want you to worry about anything. Dominique left the scene after we were taken to the hospital so she had nothing to do with it. She probably thinks we're just now getting out of it. I only did it because it's bad enough that you and I are uncovering things about Maya together and my marriage and your best friend are both already on the line as a result of it—like you need to worry about your parents worrying about what happened to you. You got the least worst of it anyways.”

“I still could've been killed, though, Lars,” I curtly point out to him. “I hit my head, for crying out loud!”

“Yes, but you're alive, aren't you? It was a narrow escape and I knew that was the case when I awoke in the hospital bed and I saw you laying next to me. I got the worst of it and all I could think was 'holy hell, that was a close one.' I was injected with loads of morphine and even under the veil of the fog, it allowed me to think about things a little more, about what happened and what's happening at the moment. It was kind of like thinking about things while you're still half asleep and you let every single thought through, and that was one of the things I thought of and I would have to tell you when you woke up. Yes, it was completely a dick move on my part and for that, I apologize. Sincerely. But you have to understand, Joey, that if you and I are going to be involved in this mystery together, we need to care for each other and I knew you were going to worry about your parents and what they might think. Speaking as the guy who got the worst of the accident and was loaded with morphine directly afterwards.”

I shake my head at him. I have no idea what to think right now.

“Joey, listen to me—” He stands up only for his face to twist in pain. He clutches at his bad knee and almost falls onto the floor. “—listen. I know for a fact you love your parents, and they love you back. Even in my opiate laden state, I remembered that they love you more than anything in the world. So the last thing they need to hear is—their little boy was in a car accident in the big—” He grimaces. “—the big stinking city.”

He groans and collapses onto his back right on the bed. I stand there before him with my hands pressed to my hips and the annoyed feeling still residing within me.

“Could you—walk into this neighborhood here and get me some ibuprofen or something?” he stammers out.

“Can I take a shower first?” I demand to him, chewing on my bottom lip.

“I don't know if I can take another second of it,” he confesses. “You still have the twenty dollars I gave you before we flew out here on you?”

“In my pocket.” I let out an exasperated sigh. “Alright, fine. I'll be right back.”

I close my coat and return back outside to the low hanging fog and the raw, heavy feeling of beckoning snow. I never would think a place like Seattle would experience snow, but if anything like everything that's happened to this point is possible, that might be possible, too.

Even though I have my leather gloves back on, I've got my hands in my coat pockets as I head on down the cold hard sidewalk to the corner. I wonder what else is being hidden from me as I reach the corner and glance about the block. The cold wind is blowing through my black hair which is still damp from sweating: I close my coat even more to keep the chill at bay. I peer up at all the buildings here in this part of town, all of them looking almost identical with their black slate walls and their flickering blue neon lights on the sides. There is a little orange and yellow hut looking place right up the block from me with a sign out front reading “Mama's Mexican Kitchen.”

But the street before me is stretching onward into the heart of downtown. The whole thing is tempting, but I can't do it just yet.

Lars is in pain and I need to get him something. If only there's a drug store around here somewhere.

There's a dumpster on the corner right in front of me. I wonder if Maya camped out there while she was here. Who knows and who knows if I'll ever know.

But after looking both ways, I head on over to the other side of the street to meet up with the dumpster and the first thing that catches my eye is a small pile of empty orange pill bottles, complete with the white lids.

No, I can't do that to Lars. He even said morphine made him do it.

But as I'm moseying on closer to the pile and I crouch down for a better look at them, I notice the faint glimmers of blue neon inside one of the bottles. The label on another one facing me reads “cybernetic serum: the pain medicine of tomorrow. use only with caution and for the most intense of injuries. take only orally with water. copyright morlente medicine, a division of maxwell industries.”

Hmm.

Morlente Medicine? As in Maya's foster parents? It's also a division of Maxwell Industries, but at the same time, I also don't know where the nearest drugstore is and poor Lars is in agony. I pick up the one on the top to better examine the stuff that's inside. It's like black ink with pieces of blue glitter mixed into it. At least it's not toxic.

I take it back with me to the hotel, although I'm not sure how this will fare for either of us, especially Lars. I return to the room to find Spence with no shirt on and a towel on his head, and Lars himself still laying on the bed. I swipe one of the little paper cups next to the coffee maker and take it into the tiny cramped bathroom to fill it with water. Carefully, I unscrew the lid from the bottle. It in fact smells like ink; and I drip two drops into the water where they dissolve and disappear at the snap of my fingers.

I take it back to Lars for him to drink it up.

“It's already dissolved,” I explain to him when he shows me a baffled look. He then nods and drinks down the whole cup of water. Breathing hard, his face twists into a smile which accentuates his little cheekbones.

“Better?” I ask him.

“Yes. Amazingly, yes. My knee doesn't hurt at all anymore.”

“Okay. You guys need me I'm gonna be in the shower.”

****************************************

The next day, the first day of winter and the day the sky was almost pitch black as a result, Marcia and Sonia meet us outside of the hotel from the little trip down to Hoquiam, which is right outside of another little town of Aberdeen, which is where Nirvana hails from. As we're leaving Seattle and headed on southward, the neon lights glare at me in the rear view mirrors. Maybe it was just an unfortunate side effect down in New Orleans, like maybe it was just nothing more a coincidence the banana slugs and the spiders got so big, but I had nothing more than doubts about all the neon and all the seemingly heavy machinery arising here in the cozy pocket of Washington. Lars is as chirpy as ever, given he walked to the car practically dancing with his cane in hand. I still want a stroll around the heart of downtown before we're done here, though.

Sonia, who's driving, takes the next exit off to Aberdeen, which will take us to Hoquiam. Such a small, backwoods little town, like Oswego if it didn't have such a tightly woven community surrounding the dingy parts and the power plant. Everything is gray, such that it sends a chill up my spine upon seeing it.

But even as we get out of the car in the gravel parking lot, I turn my head to look at the blue and green glow against the dark sky from the city to the north of us. I had my doubts but I'll admit that that's kind of creepy, the otherwise natural darkness of the Pacific Northwest bathed in manmade light. Something about that…

“Joey!” Sonia interrupts my train of thought. I turn to see her gesturing for me to follow them into this ramshackle white warehouse with a partially collapsed roof. And it takes me a minute to realize we're in a bar given there are still taps coming out of the walls. Even with a crowd in here, the whole place smells of mildew and stale beer. Reminds me of my cover bands.

Within moments, the band emerges on their shabby little stage: the drummer with his thin long dark hair taking his seat behind the tiny kit, the gangly looking bassist with his fine dark hair and heavy raincoat, and then there was the guitarist with his long blond hair partially covering his face, wrapped faded plaid sweater, and holding a shabby guitar in hand. The neck of his guitar is switched over sides: he's a leftie.

“Just a three piece?” I ask Sonia.

“Just a three piece.”

“Hello, everyone,” the bassist greets us through his tiny microphone. “We are Nirvana and I want to say that we're in the midst of making an album at the moment.”

Some people in front of us cheer out: I notice two people near the front beginning to mosh. Such energy for such a little venue, my God.

“This whole place stinks!” the bassist continues, wagging his finger. “It needs some bleach!”

The guitarist joins in from his right.

“I think 'oh, oh, oh' means 'shut up, Krist,'” he retorts to him, and that coaxes a laugh out of me.

“This song is about a girl,” he announces to us.

Oh.

My.

God.

The grungest grunge that ever grunged right here. It's like a fuzzy Beatles song. Soundgarden has “Flower”, and they have this song. It must be a coincidence.

I'm just totally guessing but it's like Seattle is trying to give me a sign. A sign that I need to do a little more to help Maya.

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prettywordsyouleft · 6 years ago

Text

Our Christmas - Meeting

Genre: cliché fluff / Christmas au

Pairing: Hwang Minhyun x reader

Warnings: none

A/N: Our Christmas is a five part series that starts from first meeting someone to the magic of Christmas through the eyes of children!

Our Christmas: Meeting // Together // Family // Newlyweds // Children

You had always dreamed of having that fairytale Christmas experience. You know, the ones that you religiously watched every year on Netflix, cringing at how cliché and yet wonderful they were. The kind where the hard-working main protagonist literally meets a prince and they fall in love. Or the ones where making one mistake would lead to a series of events that would pay off in the end. The movies where you knew everything was far too good to be true, and yet the magic of them sucked you in every time.

It was foolish to dream of meeting someone who would change your world on Christmas Day. That was something that only happened in stories and not in real life. At least, nothing like that ever happened in your life. Everything you had, you had to work extremely hard to get. Not that this was anything bad of course, there was immense satisfaction when your hard efforts paid off.

But you still liked to dream of meeting some handsome prince in some clumsy setting, which was full of far too many smiles and the itching for love confessions. You fantasised over what he would say to you, how he would fall in love with you entirely. It was funny, you didn’t believe in love at first sight, yet you would always dream of it, enveloped in this wintry fairytale that Santa himself had plucked the right guy from the stars and gifted him to you for Christmas.

It was all so unfathomable, and yet, it actually happened to you.

“Excuse me!” you cried, waving your hand up and down as the taxi you had hailed was snapped up by some rude person right in front of you. Despite the merriness in the air, you cursed a few words as the car took off before you could do anything about it, splashing dirty slush at your new boots in the process. It was looking to be a very disgruntled Christmas this year.

You had just arrived at the airport ready to fly home for Christmas, only to find out that your seat had somehow been double booked and they couldn’t help you until tomorrow. With Christmas being today, tomorrow just wasn’t going to cut it. Your plans had been thousands of miles away from here, and as you waited for another taxi to arrive you scrambled to think of what you could do instead. You loved Christmas, it was so full of joy and laughter, but everyone you knew already had their own plans with their own families. You didn’t think you could just turn up anywhere, and although it was early morning still, there wouldn’t be anyone in your life here that you could go and open presents with.

As you slid into the back seat of the taxi, you sighed heavily. This would be your first Christmas alone.

“Can I share this?” a voice asked and you glanced up into the face of a man who stood by the door you were about to close. You blinked a couple of times at his earnest expression, and you were pretty sure your jaw had fallen slightly ajar.

He was gorgeous.

Blinking out of your stupor, you nodded softly. “Of course, I’m heading to the west side of the city, will that suit you?”

“I’m heading that way too, thank you.”

He got into the car and for a moment you were quietly surveying him out of the corner of your eye. He was tall, and his side profile was stunning. You bit at your lip lightly as you realised that he was the type of man you would see starring in the movies that you had been watching last night. His handsome features would make for a perfect prince, and as he felt your gaze on him, he shot you a warm smile.

It made you blush and divert your eyes quickly before your mind rushed away with you any further.

“Thank you,” he mentioned softly and you nodded again, accepting his gratitude. “My flight was double booked so I have to wait until tomorrow.”

“Mine too,” you mentioned as you quickly looked back at him and his eyes widened. “Somehow there was a glitch in the system.”

“It affected you as well?” he asked with a sad sigh, shaking his head. “Not a very good start to Christmas, is it?”

“No, my family aren’t from here.”

“Neither.”

“Friends?” you enquired and he shrugged. It was surprising with how natural the conversation was flowing between you and this handsome stranger. Even though you had something in common to discuss, it still baffled you that you were so at ease. You weren’t outgoing by nature, and whilst you could easily hold a conversation, you weren’t normally so forthcoming.

It had to be the festive spirit in the air. Or the fact that he was ridiculously handsome. Maybe it was both.

“Most are with their families today.”

“Same here.”

He glanced at you then, his eyebrows knitting together. “You’re going to be alone this Christmas too?”

“Seems like it.”

“What a shame, I hope we can both find some way to turn our day around.”

The rest of the ride was comfortably silent, though you were doing more than just staring out the window like he was. You were taking as many opportunities as you could to gaze at him, to decipher why he had captured you so easily. He wasn’t your usual type, not that you were sure you knew what your type was. But you knew if you had seen him in any other way in life, you wouldn’t be this affected. He was far out of your league and if you had passed him on the street, you would have simply thanked the Gods above for a good view and carried on in life. It didn’t help that he seemed to have a pleasant personality as well. He seemed too good to be real.

You had even secretly pinched at your skin to see if you were dreaming. The barely audible squeak that left you confirmed that you weren’t delusional. All the same, you told yourself firmly you were simply being a kind citizen in sharing a taxi with someone. Once you got out of this car, you wouldn’t see him again.

This thought made you sombrely look out the window for the rest of the ride.

Thanking and paying the driver your fare when he arrived at your destination, you then turned to the man beside you who looked surprised. You dismissed the reaction and bowed lightly at him in your chair. “It was nice meeting you. I hope your Christmas improves.”

And then you got out of the car, counting the steps it took you as you rounded the vehicle and retrieved your small suitcase from the trunk. You then climbed up onto the sidewalk and frowned when the vehicle didn’t move off immediately. Instead, the tall man got out as well, retrieving his bag and stood in front of you.

You blinked once.

“Here,” he said, offering you some cash. You merely blinked again. “We ironically were heading to the same place. So I asked the driver to take half the fare from me so I could share with you. Only fair since I hijacked your ride, right?”

You blinked once more.

“Are you alright?”

“No,” you breathed as your mind finally caught up with the new information. The handsome man had another coincidence with you today and you weren’t alright. You were starting to race ahead in your romantic mind and you needed to settle it down immediately. You weren’t some female protagonist in a movie, after all. But then you realised you had spoken out loud by the dejection embedded into his umber eyes. “No! I mean, no, you didn’t have to.”

“It only seemed fair,” he insisted, pushing the money towards you and smiling with relief. “I’m glad to be able to do this for you.”

“You are?”

He nodded. “Of course, it seems our luck today hasn’t been the best, yet you were kind enough to give me a ride, so I think things might be looking up.”

He then glanced up and noticed the skies had started to sprinkle down with a light flurry of snow. He then grinned at you. “See, we’re even getting blessed with the first snow of the day. But it is cold, so you should head indoors and keep warm.”

“Right,” you mumbled, wondering how much luck you had used up to get this far with him.

He walked off from you for only a few steps as you grumbled internally about Lady Luck not blessing you further, when he stopped and turned to walk back to you. There was a pink tinge across his cheeks and you wondered if that was due to the cold air or something else. He then smiled again before speaking. “Is it rude of me to ask what your name is?”

“No, its fine to,” you encouraged with a shy smile, before uttering your name and asking him the same back.

“Minhyun. Hwang Minhyun.”

Even his name sounded regal enough. You envisioned changing his long tan coat for a royal outfit and grinned dazedly to yourself. You wondered how much of a fool you could be with your fantasies today. So far, you seemed to be losing touch with reality the longer you were in his company.

“Y/N?” he said again and you blinked a couple of times, realising Minhyun must have been calling you for some time.

“Oh! Sorry.”

“I’m going to head off now, please take care.”

“Of course!” you replied with more enthusiasm than you needed, and watched as Minhyun diverted into a coffee shop nearby. Would it be too much if you did the same thing? It was cold out and a hot chocolate would definitely warm you up, but, well it was a bit too much.

You nodded to yourself, you had been blessed enough so far with your events today. Now it was time to return to reality.

After a couple of hours in your apartment, you realised you didn’t have anything to eat for dinner that would make you feel like it was still Christmas. You had opened your presents you had at home with your parents on FaceTime and you watched some of their festivities until you got a little homesick. After that, you had watched another movie about meeting a Christmas prince which felt a little too close to the morning’s events and left you daydreaming Minhyun in the position of the main character.

You were a lost cause and hoped you would soon forget all about the handsome man and his feline shaped eyes.

With the new task of needing food, you headed out to the closest grocery store, grabbing a basket upon entering, and then looked down at the list you had jotted down before you left your apartment. You were trying to reach for the small pack of turkey breasts that you had found in the meat section when a hand moved over and grabbed it with ease.

“Hey! That’s mine!” you cried as you pivoted to see who was taking it from you, noticing it was now held out to you by someone you were certain you had just conjured up. Did you really fall that hard for Minhyun that you were now imagining him on the faces of others around you?

“Here you go then,” he mentioned with a playful smile and you gasped, realising he was actually there. What were the odds?!

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I thought-”

“Funny meeting you here,” he cut in with another smile and placed the meat packet into your basket for you. “Planning dinner for one?”

You nodded. “And you?”

“The same, I couldn’t find anyone to make plans with.”

You held back the urge to offer to make some with him instead.

“What will you make with that?” he enquired. You looked down at the turkey and smiled brightly.

“My parents choose to eat turkey on Christmas every year. I have my mother’s infamous recipe on how to roast it to perfection.”

Minhyun’s eyes lit up. “Oh really, what will you pair with it?”

“I’m not so sure yet,” you murmured and Minhyun smiled, tilting his shopping basket towards you. Your eyes widened, was he suggesting what you thought he was?

“I know we only met today, and I hope this isn’t rude to ask. I genuinely just don’t want us to be alone this Christmas. Do you want a share a meal with me?”

You were nodding before he finished his sentence and Minhyun chuckled, a light blush crossing his otherwise satisfied face. You finished up the grocery shopping together and it surprised you at how easy it was to relate to him as you picked out the items you would need for the meal. By the time you were at the checkout, you honestly felt like you were spending time with a friend, not someone you met for the first time earlier that morning.

And as he walked with you back to your apartment so you could access the recipe you had at home, you were rather surprised when he stopped dead in the entrance of your apartment complex.

“Another coincidence,” he murmured softly, and you watched as he shook his head a little, stunned by whatever he was experiencing. Minhyun realised you were waiting for some kind of explanation and pointed to the building across the street. “I uh, live there.”

“You’re kidding?!”

He shook his head as he grinned. “All day long, I’ve kind of felt like this was all really amazing but very cliché? With how bad our luck was in the beginning but with you, I feel like luck is on my side again. It’s rather surreal, Y/N, but I have to admit, I kind of like it.”

So you weren’t the only one thinking this was something magical as well.

“You mean to say we’ve probably crossed paths with each other in the past all this time, but because it’s Christmas we suddenly get the opportunity to meet?”

Minhyun laughed. “Like a Christmas miracle?”

“This is getting all too farfetched. I need to stop watching Netflix,” you admitted as Minhyun held the door open to your apartment complex for you to enter. Once inside, you both shared a knowing smile.

“Or we could watch another terribly cliché movie tonight and see how well we match up?” he offered as you both headed for the elevator and you couldn’t help but grin.

“You do know most of those end with a happily ever after, right?”

Minhyun nodded casually, his eyes on the numbers of the floor flashing by and not on you. “Who’s to say this meeting doesn’t have some kind of magical importance behind it too?”

“You’re a hopeless romantic?” you wondered and he smiled to himself. “Really?”

“I’ll let you know my answer after this infamous turkey. After all, I need to make sure I’m going to enjoy next Christmas with you too, you know.”

You couldn’t help but feel giddy at his forward suggestion, and as the night wore on you decided it wasn’t that bad to dream of magic at Christmas time. Sure, Minhyun was no prince with a large castle with all the bells and whistles. But you were a modern city girl anyway, and apartment life suited you just fine. What you did find was the longer you got to know him; you definitely started to believe in lust at first sight.

And you couldn’t wait for the love part to eventuate with Minhyun, either.

_________________

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blessuswithblogs · 6 years ago

Text

Katsura Hashino is a Big Fat Creep and Other Observations

(for the record all uses of the word “queer” in this post are meant in the academic sense as shorthand for a wide umbrella group of gender and sexual minorities and not as a slur i hope that is evident from my past history and status as Big Gay Bitch Who Loves Girls but let it never be said i don’t cover my ass)

A few weeks ago, Catherine: Full Body Edition or whatever gross subtitle it got was released. Catherine has had a very checkered history as one of those games that is just kind of slimy, though it has endured with a cult following and a surprisingly successful competitive community by way of the game's multiplayer mode where you compete to see who can climb The Dream Sex Tower the best. Honestly, I don't know that much about Catherine because it is difficult to think of a game that repulses me more on a visceral level, but I want to do my due diligence and not talk out my ass. One of Catherine's initial claims to fame was that it was by Atlus Japan, specifically the same people who made the much beloved Persona games. This is evident in the game's art, music, overall style of delivery, and being basically hate speech.

The original Catherine was a greasy, misogynistic mess with some really vile politics about trans people in particular. Deadnaming your own fictional character in the credits is some next level petty malice. Full Body returns with, stupendously, a double down on this ideology that is actually kind of comical in how convoluted it gets in trying to decry the Degenerate Queer Lifestyle. The game adds a scene with Rin, who is apparently a gay crossdresser from space(???????), getting slapped away and running away crying from their love interest after he learns The Terrible Truth. In another game, with a different writing team, this could have been a teachable moment about the destructive consequences of taking too narrow a view of human sexuality and gender expression, but as it stands it's just another tiresome example of Trans Panic with a sheepish admonishment from the other characters that gosh maybe slapping their hand away was a mean thing to do.

So we're already firing on all cylinders here, but the best is yet to come. The bulk of the outcry comes from the addition of a weird "true ending" cutscene where Catherine, who is also from space, goes back in time to make everybody's life better. Or something. This is already pretty stupid on the face of it because its Fucking Time Travel Out of Nowhere, but the scene then depicts a pre-transition Erica, the game's trans character who got deadnamed in the credits the last time. There has been a lot of exceptionally tedious discussion about exactly when this scene takes place in the game's chronology and what it means for Erica, and some brain geniuses have tied their thinkmeats into pretzel shapes to prove definitively that all this means is that she delayed her transition in this Better Timeline, that might not actually be better, because Catherine is weird and selfish, maybe. And. Fine. Sure. Okay. Let's accept that for now. Given the game's previous track record, and continuing insistence on using Erica's pretransition name in the credits even in the rerelease, it is meanspirited at best to show her before her transition at all (many real life trans people would be utterly mortified for such a thing to happen to them) and overall just in poor taste and pretty lousy writing at that because it's so unclear what any of this actually means. Since the game has not yet received an official english localization, the context of this scene is to begin with muddled by amateur translators on the internet all with slightly conflicting interpretations of the scene. It's a fucking mess, by and large.

So I would disagree that this is a fake controversy manufactured by those damnable essjaydubyas. Even with the most charitable interpretation possible, it's still just really sketchy and gross. Erica's english voice actress, who seems to be very fond of the character, has been vocal about her dissatisfaction with the new scenes on twitter and has recently come out to say that the localization team is going to try and take some steps to make things less blatantly hateful. Between this and Jennifer Hale's recent tweet about it being time to grab our pitchforks in response to Activision-Blizzard's mass layoffs, I'm starting to think that voice actresses are pretty cool. I mean honestly I always thought that but we're getting off topic. One of the top competitive Catherine players, who was by all accounts really hyped for the release of Full Body, just straight up said on twitter that he was quitting the game because he couldn't support something like that in good conscience. I don't know if he's remained consistent on this position since, but it was a bold statement, to say the least.

Now, whenever an incident like this happens, the inevitable string of More-Progressive-Than-Thou white boys who watched an anime once and thought the bouncing titties were a little much appears to start pontificating about the cause of such untoward elements in media. And it's basically all just a bunch of Orientalist bullshit. Every time. For whatever reason, people still really love to be racist towards Japanese people because it's still sort of socially acceptable when couched in the language of "oh japan!!! ecks dee" and so the neverending procession of softboi neckbeards declared with confidence that Atlus's continual inclusion of Actual Hate Speech towards LGBTQ+ people was the result of the inscrutable Japanese Mind and its Mysterious, Antiquated Culture. Many mentions of the philosophy of Wa, wherein the nail that stands out gets pounded down, and lots of very lovely psuedointellectual claptrap. Evidently, people just seem to think that queer people don't live in Japan, or that they don't fight just as hard as we do for equal rights and protections under the law. They do live there, and they do fight as hard as we do. Obviously. You fucking imbeciles.

In their quest to clearly illustrate their moral and intellectual superiority to the backward, collectivist Asiatic Peoples, these highly reasonable and enlightened manboys forsook a very important logical principle: Occam's Razor. Sure, you could blame jApAnEsE cUlTuRe for Atlus's impropieties and just conveniently ignore all of the fantastic queer media it has produced in recent years like My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness, Horou Muskou, Nier Automata, etc. Or you could go for the simpler and more logically consistent option: Katsura Hashino is a big fat creep. Who is Hashino, you ask? He is the director of every Persona game since 3, as well as Catherine, and all of these games' gross shit and self-contradictory themes of self-acceptance and rebellion against an unust society (unless you're gay, ew) can probably be traced to him and his gaggle of accomplices. In addition to the fact that Atlus games not by Hashino's team tend to just. not have these problems to nearly as large a degree or even at all, Hashino himself has gone on record saying some really kind of hilariously backwards shit. Most infamously, when asked why in Persona 3 literally all of your social links with girls ended up with Hot Makeout Sessions regardless of like. Previously Committed to Relationships. Hashino simply said he couldn't imagine friendships between boys and girls. So that's where his brain is at. Since subsequent games in the series graciously allowed the player the option to not be a Huge Cheating Bastard, one can assume either his moral development has progressed past early puberty or somebody on the team convinced him this wasn't actually a normal thing to think. Given the man's output, I would say it's probably the latter.

It is because of this man's decisions and behavior that so many people are simply unwilling to give Full Body the benefit of the doubt. The game's director is, quite simply, a well known louse, and not in the endearing, Roger Smith way. Once again, it requires far fewer leaps in logic to assume that Hashino is just being a bigoted creep again than to go through some fuckin galaxy brain Kingdom Hearts-esque dot-connecting to justify it as just a LITTLE BIT bigoted not REALLY SUPER bigoted, or simply blaming the whole ordeal on some strange ineffable property of the Japanese Character. He's a gremlin! An overgrown manchild with a warped view of human interaction and society put in charge of games about exploring those concepts for.... reasons. My bet is that his dad knew somebody and then Persona 3 was successful enough for the rest of Atlus to just go "alright fine let him do it while we do mainline games". Unfortunately, Persona became so popular that the mainline games sort of switched places and became side-projects, at least in the eyes of the Western consumer base (which let's be real is the only perspective that any of these Serious Online Commentators even pretend to care about).

So I would once again caution everyone against just assuming that Japan is some sort of quaint anachronistic country of weird gameshows and backwards social mores. This is both a gross oversimplification of an entire culture and the struggles of their own subgroups and minorities and simply a grand display of lacking self-awareness. Like have you fucking seen the guys in the White House? The preposterous media that gets routinely greenlit on prime time TV, theaters, and digitally? Don't make me laugh. The West has no claim to any sort of progressive superiority to anybody else. The white cishet bubble of comfortable middle class affluence might distort what you see of the rest of the world, but believe me: we got problems too. Big ones. Even the presupposed bastions of Demsoc Virtue like Sweden have an awful track record of discrimination and eugenics. But Dazzlyn that's different, you cry! All of these groups and forces don't represent the entirety of Western culture! Yes. Exactly. Oppression is not culturally bound like cuisine or art. It is a nasty, universal thing that worms its way into everything, and it will use any excuse it can find to murder and exploit. It's against Christian values! It represents a genetic defect that must be purged! It's ostentatious and immature! The list goes on. And every time you giggle and go "oh those silly japanese" you're just being another expression of the same vile ideas.

I'm going to relate some of my own personal experiences, because as a noted Big Gay Bitch Who Loves Girls, I feel like maybe I have some authority on the matter? Just a little? Enough that if I make a well reasoned argument it can't be dismissed out of hand? Let's hope. So, what's the gayest game I've ever played? Final Fantasy XIV Online: A Realm Reborn. Look yeah I know I'm talking about it again but come back this is important. Final Fantasy is a series that has had a lot of LGBTQ+ undertones pretty much since forever, and while they have largely been in keeping with the times in terms of tact and representation (the Crossdressing Cloud debacle is a deeply bizarre, uncomfortable sequence in a lot of ways but there's also some genuine Good Gay Shit in 7 like Cloud's surprisingly cute and genuine date with Barret. I think. It's... it's been a while.), by God, it was at least there, and 13 had honest to god Lesbians, Harold in Fang and Vanille. I don't want to say it has pedigree, but the series has dabbled. XIV continues on the tradition with a vibrant world that's actually got a lot of characters and NPCs that are just incidentally there and kind of gay. The adventurer couple that befriended the Tonberries in Wanderer's Palace, a vendor that appeared in the Rising cosplaying as Minfilia at her wife's behest, a miqote lady bathing in the oasis that lets on she wouldn't mind having cute girls stare at her instead of grabby boys, every horny Elezen in Ishgard, Samson and Guydelot (shoutouts to Lulumi Lumi), and probably more that I've missed. More than that, though, is that because FFXIV is an MMO, it is by necessity a social space, and in my experience it has been one that has gone out of its way to be inclusive to everybody, from the GMs handling reports of abusive behavior right up to the top decision makers who made same sex player marriages a thing just immediately on its implementation and letting boys wear the gold saucer bunny costume too (albeit after quite a bit of pleading). The game's got a huge queer community of which I am kind of part of sort of. It's one of the reasons I keep coming back to it. Hell, they've recently partnered with a pride group in Australia to have an FFXIV float in a parade. I usually turn my nose up at such things as meaningless corporate grandstanding, but it does seem to be more meaningful than two boy pastas getting married or rainbow colored oreos because like. Cheesy as it sounds, it's more than just a brand to a lot of people, it's a place, sometimes the only place, they can go to feel safe and accepted in a community. Having official, vocal support from the dev team means genuinely a lot, I think.

Now, there is one quality about this game of which I am speaking that might strike you as noteworthy: it is Japanese. It's made by Japanese people, in Japan, under a Japanese company. A middle aged Japanese man goes up on stage in Gunbreaker cosplay to speak in Japanese about the upcoming expansion, while a meme obsessed gremlin translates for him. It's not perfect, there are problems, etcetera, why do I even need to qualify that in 2019, when everything sucks, god. But it's better than most things. I hope that it serves as an example to people that even in the supposedly regressive countries of the world, queer communities are still living, fighting, and sometimes even being heard, and that the only thing you're enriching by dismissing them wholesale as socially backwards is your own internet penis. And nobody fucking cares about that you simpleton. I expect 5.0 to be gayer than ever before because they're taming up with Yoko Taro to do a Nier themed raid and by the 12 Warrior of Light Dazzyn Reed is going to kiss 2B or an equivalent model right on the robot lips.

#catherine #persona #ffxiv #lgbtq #final fantasy #nier #japan

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vacationcalendar · 3 years ago

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7/18/21

Good morning Max!

So.

We are steadfastly embarking here on a blogging journey only about 3 entire weeks after we had this fantastic idea. One might argue that a *start* to an endeavor can’t be steadfast; steadfast is a pace that is maintained over a period of time, it indicates a consistency that can’t be identified after mere seconds of typing. But I would argue that that steadfast pace is going a certain speed, and we as a society have a collective idea of how fast that speed is, whether we’ve ever said it out loud or not. And I believe it is that speed at which I am embarking. So there. You bear with me and try to visualize THAT idea, and I’ll try and learn more words so we don’t have to keep having these little thought experiments every paragraph or so.

OK GREAT! WE’RE OFF! I have literally taken two full length breaks since I’ve started writing this. Why was I so scared to get this thing started anyway? Writing comes so naturally to me, like breathing, or shitting. I can’t believe people actually get paid to do this.

Alright, in all honesty, I know this is going to be wildly difficult for me to do with any consistency at all, much less DAILY (good lord...). So in order to make this a more surmountable task, we are going to make the topics and form that the blog takes on a little more free flowing than I might initially want them to be. We don’t care how the river is shaped at this very moment, just so long as there is water flowing down it.

Here are some creative writing projects constantly hanging over my head that might just rear their ugly heads in some form or another during these posts: Comedy Sketches Stand-up bits Segments/ideas for my eternally unfinished novel Standalone essays that I think would work as a youtube video, because of course an introverted depressed guy who thinks he’s interesting in 2021 wants to have a youtube channel. Etc.(?)

There, I finished the list with etc., even though I had no more concrete ideas for creative writing projects. That makes the list instantly 300% more official, and doesn’t paint me as wildly unconfident in my own personality AT ALL. I did mention to my mother that I was working on assorted creative writing projects to keep busy, and she immediately asked, “Oh! Like a [auto]biography?”

She’s pretty confident that I’ve got a bestseller on my hands if I just recounted the sad and lonely details of my life up until this point. She also called it a biography as indicated in my direct quote there, and I tried to fix it in post like any good editor would. But now I’m noticing that “fixing” the quote to say autobiography like she *meant* to say changes the proper article before the word from “a” to “an,” and I have no idea what the protocol for that correction would be...

Maybe it’s [an auto]biography? An [auto]biography? Maybe it’s [an autobiography], but then it’s much less clear what my mother’s initial mistake in vocabulary was, and I don’t want to let her off the hook so easily. Maybe I google this later, if I can think of what the hell you would type into google to find an answer to this. I guess my point bringing this up at all, is maybe I do actually try and use this space occasionally for a journal. Wading through the slimy, fetid bog of my younger days sounds extremely unfun, and, to a point of contention with my well-meaning mother, distinctly unprofitable. But unpacking my current self’s thoughts onto this page periodically does actually sound nice.

And this is a trade secret between you and me (you’re the only one reading this Max, sorry), I think it would behoove you to include several autobiographical moments in your perpetually ethereal novel. You need all the cheat codes you can get to get this wretched thing off the ground. We should lock the name in on that sucker by the way, just to help save you some keystrokes at least. I know I wrote down ‘Elements of War’ a loooong time ago as a placeholder. And I can confirm as of Sunday, July 18 2021, I don’t like it. It’s no good. I look at other titles of other stories, looking for inspiration, and they all seem to work just fine for the story their attached to. Harry Potter is just the name of the main guy, and that worked INCREDIBLY well. “Harry Potter and the [insert magic themed adventure keywords here].” Foolproof.

The main problem I have with a title is simply the fact that I know so little about the contents of my book at this point. It stands to reason that the book should find a title for itself as part of the process of actually writing the book. Seeing the events transpire in the story from a bird’s eye view would give you just about everything you could possibly need to title your book. Choosing a title for a story BEFORE the story really exists feels a bit like working backwards, even though the title would technically be the first thing anyone reads. I guess I could see it plausibly being created in either order. You don’t necessarily need to know the entire story you are setting out to tell to understand the story you’ve shown up to tell. Breaking Bad ostensibly didn’t know many of the finer details of its story before Vince Gilligan picked its title. Hell, it didn’t know many of its details before literally airing on TV. And there was never any consideration of changing the title of the show retroactively, once the showrunners figured out the ending, right? Stories need a title. And I don’t think I’m making some irredeemable authorial error by picking out a title before getting too far into my story-writing process. Although I’m often reminded of the They Might be Giants song “Experimental Film” when I dream up things like titles or dramatic plot points or the like:

“I already know the ending, It’s the part that makes your face implode, I don’t know what makes your fact implode, But that’s the way the movie ends.”

We all want that awesome moment. We all want to create that life changing piece of art. But creating is hard, and dreaming is easy. Or rather, dreaming is natural. We all have a dream at night, we get one simply by virtue of being awake. Understanding the dream, communicating the dream is hard. Hell, communicating anything can be hard. Part of me thinks that creative project that will define my legacy (wow, try unpacking that sentence later buddy) will be an interview show where I work with my guest to try and manifest the story they dream of telling in there head, but have never tried to tell it. Tell me that’s not a million dollar idea! If Ira Glass announced that show next week and Barack Obama was his first guest, you better believe that thing’s taking off like the fucking Quinjet from the Avengers. But you wouldn’t even need a big celebrity guest! I believe that literally everyone has the ingredients of a completely unique story kicking around in their heads. And to conclude this thought, I will often times pretend I’m the guest on this podcast (of course it’s a podcast), and I’ll try to play out what that interview would sound like. And I’ll be honest, that show would need a VERY smart host to keep the flow going. And in my interview fantasy, I’m also the host; so it’s admittedly hard. I think the “Experimental Film” song would be the theme song for that show for SO MANY reasons.

Ok, I’ll be honest. I took yet another break in the middle of that last paragraph, and I may have lost the thread a teeny-tiny bit. So I’m going to try and finish out any relevant thoughts and then I’m going to do a hard break and just move on to a completely new thought.

I actually had an idea of what my (at least for now) title should be. ~The Franz Lion~ This is the name of the ship in the story that all the main characters travel on. This is the primary setting for the majority of AT LEAST the first series of events in the book. I imagine if my story moved far away from the boat, by that point I could that “Part 2,” or it could be like a whole second book. Like the first book is called The Franz Lion, but then a new book comes out and you find out the series is called like “The Greatest Windybilly”; and Book 2 is like “The Drowned.” I don’t know, and I don’t care at this moment. I just know that all signs point to “The Franz Lion” as a fine title for this book. I admittedly can see a world where it’s more of a phrase, like “Aboard the Franz Lion” or “Weaver and the Franz Lion”, but right now, I don’t see something like that being better than just “The Franz Lion”.

The Franz Lion is one of the VERY FEW things that I feel like I’ve hit a home run on. That to me is a fucking great name for a boat. It’s memorable, unique, easy to get on board with. I am aware that the boat from Legend of Zelda: Windwaker was named “the King of Red Lions”, so it’s not COMPLETELY unique. But I’m pretty confident that there is plenty of real estate in the Lions + Boats territory. So confident, in fact, that I’m locking that name in HARD. And then the name of the boat just works great as a title. Literally no one would be confused or lost or tempted to look too far into it. AND THEN, if they did look into it, I think there would be puh-lenty of symbolism and theming to pull out of the boat’s significance in the characters’ lives. And man, I know we talked about autobiographical elements, that’s unmistakable; which I am legitimately happy about. Fran Lyon was a HUGE figure in my life. Our relationship signified a change in my life that I literally was never able to come back from. And using that as inspiration for a ship that literally carries the main character away on a life-changing adventure seems like as great a place as any in trying to tell MY story. One day I can be Kurt Vonnegat-like good at writing stories, and I won’t have to borrow from real life to make convincing plots and characters, but for now this makes all the sense in the world to me. So, yeah, The Franz Lion. It exists in my head and one day it will exist on paper. And then I can die I guess. Wouldn’t that be nice? I look forward to trying to bring a teensy bit to you on your calendar here. Wish me luck!

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Ok that was the break. This wasn’t THAT hard. Thank God. Cuz we have to do a lot more than this to be satisfied. We quit our job on my 30th birthday in part because the notion that I was missing the chance to do *this* was constantly gnawing at the back of our head. Honestly the fact that I literally forgot that this was the writing project I was supposed to be doing for like 18 days may just be a testament to how hard I had been trying to just read.

I bundled writing with reading when I decided that I needed to be writing more. I said, well writing IS reading, and I can’t just sit down and read for shit. So if I’m going to really put writing at the forefront of my brain, I’m going to have to read too, dammit. And then I tried to sit down and read for, no joke, 2 entire weeks. And it fucking killed me. Unbelievable. Unbelievable how hard it was to incorporate into my life. I still don’t get it. So I quit with the intention of picking up these habits. And then I would evaluate how fulfilling it all felt, before I continued onto my path of adult life. You know, working, trying to meet new people, idk what else.... etc. And now that I can confirm how hard it has been to really stick to this and grind out being creative, all I know at this point is I’m not ready to go back. I can tell I want to be more competent at all this before I can make an assessment on what role being creative will play for my future. Seemingly my whole life I have teetered back and forth between wanting to be creative and being too scared to really try, and wanting to have the full life that hard work gets you; you know, the life that society sculpts for you. A wife, kids, vacations, cooking, friends, parties, movies. It’s not a matter of figuring out how it all works, it’s just a matter of going out grinding it all out. Securing it all piece by piece by putting in the requisite work. It’s not easy, but it’s also not complicated. And I guess ultimately I like to think I’m not someone who’s afraid of hard work. But if I’m not afraid of hard work, then why have I not put in the work to secure a career or friends or a partner or physical fitness or anything? Because I don’t want to? Do I really not want to? Or maybe I AM afraid of hard work.

But let’s take a second to unpack that. I put in hard work at Olivia’s. I truly did. I worked hard enough there to qualify as working hard, period. And it felt good. I know this. I shouldn’t forget that. I worked hard, it wasn’t impossible; it wasn’t unsustainable. And it felt good. This is mostly why I tell myself I’m not afraid of hard work. Because it’s not some dark mysterious unknown entity. I’ve been on the other side of it now. It’s the main reason I didn’t think I HAD to be creative anymore. I’ve seen the whole path of hard work, and it actually looked traversable. I sometimes wonder if I had been so drawn to being creative because I was so afraid of travelling on the path of hard honest work. It would explain why it felt so good to actually work hard for once. It would explain why the idea of abandoning the creative path felt so good once I had it. I would imagine the idea of quitting “comedy” would be a pretty mournful one, to someone like me who had clung so desperately to that dream for so long. But it wasn’t. It was a relief in a way. To know that I didn’t have to pull out some wild success in this tumultuous field to be ok; it felt like taking off a heavy backpack. I just felt more capable, more free. The simple act of allowing myself to “quit” felt ok simply by virtue of spending years of my life thinking I couldn’t do ANYTHING, and that being creative was the only way to be ok with the prospect of being alive. Thinking about abandoning that dream told me I was more normal than I had managed to be for over a decade at this point. I looked up for the first time since I had been in college and had the thought that I could work hard and succeed, whatever that might mean. College was the place I first realized I was useless, and now Olivia’s was where I realized that that wasn’t true, I just wasn’t old enough yet. I am aging much slower than the average population; I haven’t exactly figure out why yet. But it’s clear that I am. And for better or worse, this is THE factor that has cast me aside from the le person. Figuring out why would be nice, but the truly important thing to do clearly is to use this to my advantage. Get my leg up the world with my unique vantage point. And as far as I can tell, in fact it seems quite obvious to me, my leg up is going to come from a creative outlet. A twenty year old having his 30th birthday is only going to have diminishing returns in the traditional American dream. It’s like getting paid 70% of what my peers are making. Part of me knows that even 70% of the full salary isn’t that bad. It’s plenty if you’re a hard worker and know how to live in the moment; but another part of me knows that only a fool should take less than he’s earned. I don’t actually know if I can make up all this time I’ve lost, being the proverbial time traveler that I am. I don’t know how on earth I would ACTUALLY go about recouping my salary back to its rightful 100%. I can’t manifest lifelong friends; I can’t rewrite my relationship to my parents and siblings; I can’t pick up 10+ years of romantic experiences from a youtube video. I could technically go back to college, but I don’t really want to. I only want to do that as much as I want to hop in a time machine and actually be the age I’m supposed to.

Now that I think about it, if there was a story about a man who accidentally travels to the future and the finds out the world moved on without him (I mean there is, it’s called Rip Van Winkle). Yeah, now that I think about it, my story is very similar to a Coma patient’s. I just seemingly was given less time than I was promised. And I have to deal with that. But, what I’m saying is, it stands to reason that if this WERE a story, that character wouldn’t shine under those circumstances. They would wilt. They would lament and diminish. Only the rarest and most inspiring would rise up and overcome their disadvantage. Because it is a disadvantage. It’s not a unique vantage point. It’s not a matter of optimism vs pessimism. The glass is not half-full or half-empty; it is considerably less full than halfway.

Right?

Hmm. What is my point here? I have suffered. Unequivocally. And to suffer is to be alive. Again, unequivocally. So maybe my time-travelling has actually gone the other way. I’ve lived far longer than the scant 30 years my birth certificate claims. It certainly feels like longer than 30 years, even though the activity log of my life would disagree. Maybe that’s it. I’ve replaced my life with dreams. I’ve suffered in places where I was meant to thrive. And in doing so I’ve gone far under my quota of accomplishments and memories, and gone far over my quota of misery and regrets. In that sense I’ve lived out less of my life that I was meant to in some ways and lived out substantially more of my life in other ways. And I can’t say that unhappy (or rather that I don’t love myself as I am), but I can see why I never ever heard anybody recommend living your life this way.

“I am young. I am old”

Why can’t I be the age I am? Why was that so hard to accomplish? What did I need to do to fix that? And why do people think I should enjoy my birthday? Can’t they see I’ve been time-traveling? This birthday was for someone else. I don’t actually know when my birthday is. I only know when it isn’t.

Now that I’ve thought about it, I think a time-traveler is a perfectly fine person to be a creative type. He might not be the smartest or the fastest, and he’ll never be the happiest; but it’s safe to say he cheated and got wiser than his peers will ever get a chance to. At least if he was paying attention he got wiser. We all know what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. But then we all go spending our life trying to get stronger, and rarely do we ever get close enough to getting killed. So I have to show up like the man that survived the fatal disease, and got stronger than anyone should have to, without even really trying*.

Ok calling it here. Day 1 in the books. The daily blog is still at 100% completion rate! Nice

Love you, be good.

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