#Queue: A true hero knows when to act and when to wait | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

farfromstrange · 10 months

Text

Do No Harm

CHAPTER ONE: Night Shift

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Matt has to accompany Foggy to the ER in the middle of the night because he dislocated his shoulder. In need for some peace and quiet, Matt wanders the halls of Metro General and instead finds you crying in one of the abandoned hallways. A conversation ensues.

Warnings for this chapter: Slight angst, mention of injury.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: My brain gets the strangest ideas for fics and then I have to write them or else I will go crazy. This is how this baby was born. Keep in mind, I’m not a doctor. I simply watch a lot of medical dramas and I like to research medical terms for the fun of it. Heed the warnings for the entire series (see Series Masterlist) but also chapter-specific warnings that apply, as seen above. I hope you enjoy!

Read Chapter 1: Night Shift here on AO3

Ever since he can remember, Matt has hated hospitals. The antiseptic scent that lingers in the air, the sterile white walls that seem to close in around him—it all brings back memories of days spent in agony, tied to an uncomfortable bed, and seeing nothing but an endless void of black.

He can only tune out so much. The stench, the sirens, and the overlapping voices in an emergency room—they could easily kill him.

Hospitals remind him of what he lost. He lost his vision, he lost his father and in the process, he lost his innocence. Matt lost everything, and even though he is well aware that it isn’t the hospital’s fault that he decided to save a man or that his father made a deal with the devil and got himself killed, he still hates the same empty walls that made him feel so small to begin with.

Matt doesn’t want to be a liability, he doesn’t want to be the reason the people he loves get hurt, and yet it continues to happen time and time again.

Maybe he’s cursed. It’s the only explanation for how things are going for him now. Maybe God has a grudge and finally decided to exercise his right to make his life a living hell. There is an infinite number of possibilities, but none of them make sense.

He’s the anti-hero of his own story and that of everyone else who has ever dared to let him into their lives. He’s his own worst enemy, his personal saboteur. His unwavering pride has a tendency to get in the way of his happiness, which often leads to more bad than good, but admitting that would leave him vulnerable and exposed—and he can’t let himself get hurt again.

It’s better to push the people he loves away before he can hurt them and force them to walk out on him the same way everyone else in his life has walked out on him ever since he can remember. At least in his twisted mind, that’s true.

He never thought he would find himself in Metro General again, not since Claire came into his life. Claire, the caring nurse who saved him when he was on death’s door and continued doing so until she realized that falling for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen comes with its own set of risks.

Foggy dislocated his shoulder.

It’s almost laughable. Out of everyone, he chose Matt to come to the hospital with him. Not Karen, Matt. He had the choice between the most empathetic person either of them have ever met, and Matt, someone so far out of touch with his own feelings, living in denial has become the standard for him. Foggy chose the latter, for whatever reason he doesn’t even seem to know himself. It just felt like the most natural thing to do, he told Matt when he asked his best friend, “Why me?”

He should feel honored that he trusts him that much, but being trapped in the sterile four walls of the hospital he only connects bad memories to while Foggy is stuck in the queue for an X-ray feels more like torture than an honorable act.

The loud, demanding voices of the nurses, the painful groans and soft cries coming from the patients in the waiting area of the emergency room a few doors down, and the obnoxious beeping of the machines lining the walls in every room are like a swarm of bees in Matt’s inner ear. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t get them out. He’s allergic to them.

The room smells of disinfectant, blood, and other bodily fluids. He tries to focus on his cologne and the scentless laundry detergent he has grown so accustomed to over the years, but the balm only lasts for a few seconds before the wound reopens and his senses are flooded.

Matt keeps rhythmically tapping his fingers on his thigh. How much longer he can sit on this uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology area and wait for Foggy to return, he doesn’t know. It won’t be long now until he loses his mind. He is about to drown in his own misery.

He feels the desperate urge to land his fist in the wall next to him. He wants to scream, cry, maybe even both—this night is not going well. He hasn’t had a good night in weeks. Tonight though, he’s stuck in the hospital rather than outside, doing something against the injustice he is forced to listen to every day.

The hits he took the previous night were pretty severe, and his ribs still hurt. The numb ache that tears through him whenever he moves is a temporary relief from the pain induced by the noise around him. Whatever bits of sanity he tries holding onto eventually slip through his fingers.

Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. He gets up, his head tilting toward Foggy’s elevated heartbeat. He’s still in line. Fifth, probably.

Matt taps his cane against the floor, making his way down the hallway. He’s not quite sure where he’s going or where he will land, he just knows that he needs to get out of there as fast as possible.

Rounding the hundredth corner of the evening, the sound of clattering metal trays and medical supplies disappears behind layers of drywall and automatic doors. Matt takes a moment, and he realizes that right here—right where he is now—he can finally breathe again.

The sound travels more easily. The air wafting through the vents and over the cotton sheets on a row of empty beds is the only sound that meets his ears. They’re lined against one side of the wall. The rooms are empty, the doors locked. It seems as if in a moment of desperation, he found his way to one of the abandoned parts of the hospital.

A lack of funding caused Metro General to cut their losses. It certainly wasn’t an easy decision, but with capitalism on the rise, public hospitals are barely holding on.

Even though the truth is depressing, Matt still can’t believe his luck when he realizes how quiet it is. That may be a selfish thought, but he can't help it. The world is always so loud and uncomfortable. Finding someplace quiet after torturing himself in the waiting room for hours feels like heaven on earth on such a busy night.

The fog dulling his senses finally dissipates. He takes a deep breath. The air is cleaner here. No disinfectant, only the faint scent of plastic and dust; he wouldn't have thought it possible that he would ever consider that combination a blessing.

That’s when he hears it—a slightly elevated heartbeat followed by a series of muffled sobs. He got so caught up in the fact that he finally found what he was looking for amidst the chaos that he forgot to fan out his hearing.

Despite what he originally believed, he isn’t alone.

The air smells of the salty essence of human tears. Matt stops dead in his tracks, not sure whether to continue his journey or to turn around and return to the uncomfortable plastic chair in front of the radiology department.

“This nervous breakdown space is occupied,” your soft voice bounces off the high walls. It’s thick with exhaustion. Pain. Loss. He almost recoils at the all-too-familiar feeling it elicits in him.

Matt keeps his cane hugged tight to his chest, his knuckles whitening with how hard he is gripping the base. “Oh, I...I’m sorry,” he says, careful to keep his voice light. “I didn’t catch you there.”

You’re essentially a stranger to him. A troubled one, at that. You must have your share of problems or you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be crying your eyes out. He doesn’t want to intrude, but he also can’t turn around. Not now, not anymore. You’ve already noticed him.

You sniffle, your hands wiping against the soft skin of your reddened cheeks. For a moment, your heartbeat picks up in speed before returning to its normal rhythm. “It’s alright,” you assure him.

Matt picks up on the faintest hint of disinfectant and the scent of antibacterial soap on you now, maybe a little blood, and definitely antiseptic laundry detergent—you’re wearing medical scrubs.

Your shampoo smells of vanilla and some herbal element he can’t quite identify just yet. Your perfume isn’t expensive, just enough to last through a long shift and filter the sweat that is seeping out of your pores. It’s not unpleasant. You smell like someone who’s been working hard and far past your limits, too.

“Do you need something?” you ask him.

He pauses for a moment, rethinking his answer. His lips purse. He’s not sure how to answer that without completely giving himself away.

Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Oh, just…some peace and quiet,” Matt says, finally finding his voice again. It sounds a bit more nervous than he would like to admit.

The chuckle you exhale is one of surprise and possibly even a bit of genuine amusement. “Yeah,” you sniffle, “I know that feeling.”

“Well, I’ll, uh, leave you to it. Sorry again.”

“No. Don’t.”

Matt stops in his tracks when the words pass your lips.

You pat the space beside you. Your perfume becomes a little clearer. It’s so natural, so… you. He could get high off of it. Or maybe it’s just the sleep deprivation catching up to him.

“This is the only quiet corner in this hospital,” you tell him. “Trust me. Underfunding has its perks for introverts. Rest in peace to about thirty internal medicine beds, but lucky me.”

Your chuckle echoes bitterly off the walls. You use humor to cope, apparently, but you’ve run out of strength to pretend.

His cane begins to gently pave the way as he makes his way forward. “Do you mind?” Matt nods toward the bed you’re sitting on.

You pat the mattress again with a shake of your head. “Not at all.”

Gentle seems to be the one word that is consistent with everything you do. He can’t get this picture he has painted of you based on the sound of your voice out of his head. Maybe you’re an angel and he has officially gone insane, or maybe there are just a lot more good people left in this world than he originally thought.

Matt folds his cane and skillfully sits down on the edge of the mattress. You smell even better up close. Your heartbeat reminds him of a beautiful symphony, no longer as erratic as when he first picked up on your presence.

“I’m Matthew, by the way,” he says.

He can hear a sudden uptick in your heartbeat. He may have just imagined it. You suck in a sharp breath, and he’s sure he didn’t imagine that, but then you lift your hand to take his.

“Olivia,” you say.

Matt listens closely. You have no reason to lie about your name. Your heartbeat may be faster, but it isn’t a lie. You just seem a lot more nervous and unsure than before. It doesn’t quite make sense why you would be unsure about your own name.

“Nice to meet you, Olivia.” His lips curl into a soft smile.

You smile back, he can hear it, but it lacks an essence of truth. You’re trying hard to seem like you’re okay. It’s not your fault that his senses are sensitive to all changes in the human body, even in that of a stranger he just met.

You’ve been crying, so of course, you wouldn’t be alright. The question is, why?

“I take it you’re not part of the staff,” you say into the silence.

“No.” Matt chuckles. “I, uh, have a friend with a dislocated shoulder,” he says.

“Ah! Let me guess, his doctor in the ER reduced the dislocation but insisted on doing an X-ray just in case, so now you have to wait because radiology has a hold-up longer than the Nile?”

A laugh rumbles through his chest. “Yeah, that… that’s pretty accurate.”

“It’s always like this,” you say. “A dislocated shoulder doesn’t have priority. We have bigger fish to fry.”

“You work here?” he dares to ask.

You pull at the bottom of your scrub top. “Guilty as charged. Trauma surgery. I’ve been an attending here for a little over two years now.”

“Oh, wow! That’s…that’s incredible.”

Matt has encountered his fair share of doctors in the past, but no one has ever been quite like you. You’re unique. Mysterious. An enigma. You have piqued his curiosity, to say the least, and your profession only adds to the pile of interesting things he can ponder about.

You smile at him again, but it’s still not a genuine one. “Thanks,” you drag the last syllable out, the air deflating your lungs.

He swallows. “Or it isn’t. I didn’t mean to–”

“No, that’s not… some days just aren’t that rewarding,” you say. “That’s all.”

“And today has been one of those days?” Matt asks.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Your eyes roam over him once again.

He reaches for his hair, running his hand through it. He ruffles the brown strands until they’re covering his left temple. Matt’s not sure if you saw; there is a high chance that you did, but he can't anticipate your behavior. Not yet.

You let out a longer breath. “Not a fan of hospitals, I take it?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “It gets… loud,” he says.

“Sensitivity to sound.” You nod. “Noted.”

He hears the fabric of your scrubs brushing against your skin and the cotton sheets on the bed. You cross your legs, opening yourself up to him just slightly, and he wonders if you really are comfortable around him or if you’re just being kind.

“Probably to smell as well? Feeling? Taste?” There is a soft smile laced in your voice. This time, it’s real.

Matt chuckles. You hit the nail right on the head. You’re simply not aware of how sensitive he is to these things. “Pretty sensitive, yeah,” he says.

That about sums it up. You nod, but you don’t push him any further.

“Well,” you say, “The ER is pretty disgusting. And loud. And to be forced to wait in front of radiology is probably a scenario they offer as a torture device in one of the seven circles of hell.”

He can’t help himself, “It’s nine, actually.”

“Sorry?”

“Nine circles,” Matt clarifies, his lips twitching in a faint grin. “Dante’s Inferno. A good Catholic boy’s guilty pleasure.”

You let out a genuine laugh this time, and it warms his senses. It’s a rare sound in a place filled with so much pain. He can almost hear the weight from your shoulders hit the floor. The tension in the air seems to ease, if only for a moment. You allow to let yourself go.

Your grin turns into a smirk. “Catholic, huh?” you retort.

“Since the day I was born,” he says. “Are you religious?”

That seems to steal your breath away. You have no words. For a full minute, silence settles in between the two of you. It’s almost uncomfortable, and Matt fears he must have crossed a line. He just doesn’t know how to apologize for something he is truly curious about.

The topic of God and religion seems to hit a nerve when it’s not used in a humorous context. There are many reasons why that could be. He spends every day battling his own religious trauma and the demons that he feels he’s harboring deep inside, but he still holds on tight to his faith. If he doesn’t have an excuse—if he doesn’t have anything to hold onto other than what broken self-respect he has left—where would he be?

You finally clear your throat after what feels like an eternity. “No,” it’s a simple answer. “I don’t believe that there is a God.”

Your mouth stays open. You want to say something else, but your lips close within seconds after the thought has passed by you, and you swallow it. He wonders what he could have learned about you if you had allowed yourself to say what you were truly thinking when the words first left your mouth. You’re holding back, and it is audible. It might even be visible. Your cheeks are running hot.

Matt nods. He doesn’t question you. Your beliefs are yours. Most of the time, he doesn’t even believe that there is a God himself.

“It’s hard to keep the faith in this world, especially when you work so hard every day trying to save people’s lives. When you are forced to see what the system does to those who can’t defend themselves over and over again, but you can’t do anything about it. Or when you see what people do to each other. I mean, the cruelty of human beings is unmatched, and it makes you wonder if God is just a sadist, or if maybe he isn’t even real because a gracious God wouldn’t let innocent children die,” you cut yourself off in an instant, and he tilts his head toward you in surprise.

Your breath shudders. “I… I’ve seen too much bad to believe that there is an all-merciful God,” you say. “So I simply don’t.”

You try to meet his eyes, but all you see is your reflection in the red of his rounded glasses. Your heart breaks a little, he can hear it. Your shoulders slump. You’re defeated.

He isn’t sure how to react to that. How to help. How to be a decent human being. Matt just doesn’t have the answers you need, and it makes him question his own faith for a minute. Not that he has ever not questioned it; his relationship with God is as complicated as it gets.

You catch yourself after a moment of staring into the void of his glasses. “But… that’s my opinion. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended,” Matt says.

You were smiling, and now you’re not anymore. He doesn’t like that. He liked it more when you were more open with him. Your legs have moved back to your chest, your arms clinging to them. You’ve retreated.

“Sorry,” you whisper. The edge in your voice breaks his heart.

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I get it. Injustice…it’s a parasite. I’ve encountered my fair share of good people who deserved better than what they got. You try and you fail over and over again because the world isn't fair. I’d be the last person to judge you for not sharing my beliefs.” He breaks off in a chuckle. “I'm not that kind of guy.”

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. “What is that you do again?” You didn’t ask that question before.

“I’m a lawyer,” he states. “Defense attorney.”

“Wow,” you let out a soft puff of air, “And you chose to go to Metro General instead of jumping on the big money train to the Upper East Side?”

Although your tone is joking, Matt can tell that there is an ounce of truth in your words.

He hides his laugh behind a cough. He’s not sure if he’s surprised or if he actually finds that assumption hilarious. Maybe a bit of both.

“Oh, no.” He shakes his head. “I have never even been in the same station as the big money train.”

“Oh?”

“No. We, my partner and I, do pro-bono work. We don't get paid for our services. Well, other than baked goods and overdue bills in the mail, of course.”

You chuckle. “That’s a relief. Not so much for your bank account, but ethically.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry for assuming. That was prejudiced of me,” you say. “I’m not trying to judge you. I’m sorry. Rich or not, it’s none of my business.”

Matt shrugs. “It's okay. Lawyers and doctors are the two professions so many think make millions of Dollars a year, and while that may be the case for a few, a lot of us just… don’t,” he says.

“Amen! If I had a drink, I’d toast to that.”

“Yeah, well, an intoxicated doctor would not fare well in the legal sense.”

“You think that would end my career?”

“I can’t even give you good legal advice other than, don’t.”

Your giggle turns into a laugh. “Thank you for the advice, counselor.”

He joins in. “Anytime.”

For a moment, only the two of you exist. Matt adjusts his position, but he doesn’t take his bruised ribs into account. His wince is barely audible, yet you notice it in an instant. And when his hair slips, you can see the gash on his forehead. The one he tried to stitch up himself but probably did an awful job at concealing.

Your eyes narrow in concern. “What happened to you?” your voice barely breeches the sound barrier.

“Oh, nothing,” he tries to shrug it off. “Just an accident.”

“An accident?”

“I am blind, you know. I tripped, hit my head. It happens.”

“Hm.” Much to his surprise, you don’t press him further. Instead, you gently reach out to brush the sweaty strand of hair from his face that he used to cover up the aftermath of his latest endeavor.

Now that he thinks about it, his ribs really do hurt. He’s sure nothing is broken, but they are severely bruised. Even he can feel the blood pooling under the skin.

You bite your lip, not wanting to pry. The urge is obvious to him, but only to him. You’re good at your job. You focus on the task at hand. That is probably why you became a doctor in the first place; to help people, not to pry.

But Matt Murdock doesn’t need help.

“It’s fine,” he assures you.

You nod. “I believe you.”

You don’t. You’re lying. He appreciates the effort though. You try your best at making him feel comfortable and welcome. Asking questions would only drive him away; you wouldn’t be able to satiate your pathological need to help. It’s who you are.

“Whoever patched this up did a terrible job,” you say, “and I don’t want to know who did it because if you tell me it was you, I will lose my mind, so, I choose to believe you for the sake of my own sanity.”

His lips part in a soft laugh. “Yeah, you don't wanna know,” he says.

“Can I fix it?"

He opens his mouth to decline, “You don’t have to, I–”

“Please.”

There is no arguing with you, it seems.

Your footsteps echo in the empty hallway. One of the drawers in the cart across from the bed slides open at your touch. Matt can hear the distinct crinkle of packaging and the clanking of metal. When you return to his side, your steps are a little heavier.

“I’m going to clean the wound and then apply a butterfly bandage to help the skin grow back together,” you explain. “The cut isn't that deep, but you must’ve hit your head pretty hard when you fell. I can’t force you to get a head CT, so… If you experience any nausea or neurological deficits in the next few days, you should come back to run some tests. But—and that is not my expert medical opinion because I don’t have the tests to back it up—I think it should be fine to heal on its own.”

“Any other advice, Doc?” he jokes.

“Well, I can’t give the same good news about your bruised ribs.” You only have to place your hand on his side and his lips come to press tightly together. “I’m guessing third and fourth,” you say. “If one of them is fractured, it makes you run at risk for internal bleeding, but to see the extent of your injuries, we’d have to get an MRI. That is not my call to make. I can’t force you to get your battle scars checked out, I can just advise you to think about it. Really think about it.”

Matt sighs. His laughter has long died. “I know.”

He doesn’t want to repeat himself. He’s fine. He has to pretend that he’s fine because he doesn’t have time for doctors or questions. Neither you nor the law can protect him from the damage that the truth would do.

You’re disappointed, but you swallow your pride. With delicate precision, you start cleaning the wound on his forehead, the cotton swab dabbing at the dried blood. He winces at the sting of antiseptic, a subtle twitch in response to the pain.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

Matt manages a half-smile. “It’s alright. I’ve had worse.”

That doesn’t make you feel better, but you accept it. You’ve learned to respect your patients’ wishes, even if that means swallowing a lie.

As you work, your fingers graze over his skin with a careful tenderness. It’s a stark contrast to the harshness of the world he navigates outside—a double-edged sword. If he doesn’t go out there, more people die or get hurt. He would sustain the same injuries over and over again and almost die rather than pretend that evil isn’t lurking right outside his window every night. And there is a bigger storm brewing in the distance, one he isn’t fully prepared for.

Yet.

You finish cleaning the wound and proceed to carefully apply a fresh bandage. Matt can feel the cool adhesive against his skin. Your touch is soothing, almost comforting, and he allows himself to relax.

“There,” you announce softly. “All patched up.”

Matt lifts his hand to touch the bandage, a habit he developed over the years to reassure himself that someone cared enough to tend to his wounds. “Thank you,” he answers.

“No biggie.” You shrug with a tiny smile, and that makes him smile, too. It shows him that while you are displeased with his lack of respect for himself and his health, you aren’t mad at him. You just care.

The shrill beeping of your pager tears a headache through his skull.

You curse under your breath. “I’m so sorry,” you say as you skim over the text that has been sent to you. “The, uh—the ER needs me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he quickly responds.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go. Save a life!”

You’re reluctant at first, but then your lips curl into a broader, more genuine smile, and in the heat of the moment, you grab his hand. “It was nice meeting you, Matthew,” you say. “Take care of yourself.”

Your footsteps retreat and your heartbeat gets fainter as you walk down the hallway. He’s speechless. He doesn’t even remember how to say goodbye.

“Oh, and do me a favor?” You stop momentarily just to ask him, “Get those ribs checked out?”

His mouth opens and closes like that of a fish on dry land. “Sure,” he says.

“Thank you,” these are your last words to him before you take off running.

Both of you know though that once he is out of Metro General and on his way home, he won’t come back. Not for himself, at least. And it is something you have to accept as much as he has to accept the fact that you are long gone, off to save a life in the very four walls that seemed so scary to him all alone only fifteen minutes ago.

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @littlehappyperson @danzer8705

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #doctor!reader #medical drama #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock imagines #charlie cox #do no harm

242 notes · View notes

chwrpg · 2 years

Text

Why don’t you guys locate your dicks, remove the shrink wrap, and fucking use them! – Schmidt Stifler

A NOTE FROM ADMIN B: Of all the characters I’ve wanted to see apps for, Stifler has definitely been at the top of my list for a long while now. I live for chaos, and for the characters that bring it to the dash. Thank you Paige for taking one for the team (as in me lmao), expect a queue of my characters coming the Stifmeister’s way!!

OOC NAME/ALIAS, PREFERRED PRONOUNS, AGE & TIMEZONE:

you know who I am

DESIRED CHARACTER:

Schmidt Stifler

HOW ACTIVE WILL YOU BE?

i live here

SECONDARY CHOICE:

N/A

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER:

Himbo alerrttt. Some would say there’s no much going in that pretty little head of Schmidt Stifler’s, not with the kind of nonsense he spews on the regular, and maybe that’s true. Or he just thinks every passing thought of his, no matter how crude or ridiculous, is worthy of a larger audience. Somewhere along the way Stifler must’ve heard nice guys finish last and it’d stuck- His friends were content being losers but not him. His looks and good fortune would be wasted at the bottom of the social food chain; it just seemed like the natural order of things, to end up on top. He just had to be a dick to get there.

SAMPLE WRITING:

So. Things were not coming up Stifler lately, but that was alright, he could bounce back. The snapchat leak, yeah maybe he’d had that coming, but he’d never received a nude he wasn’t grateful for either. If he just happened to pass those on to anyone else it was only to brag, never complain. Not everyone’s an artist but everyone’s a critic, right. A few more lacrosse wins under his belt and they’d forget all about it. Honestly he’d moved on already.

Moved on because he’d been dealt something much, much worse.

Percy Finch fucked his mom, and on a day where he’d already been dealing with some shit so that was fucking inconsiderate, of both parties. Percy, well he was a good as dead to him now, but his own mom, that kind of betrayal cut deep. When his dad left he’d stepped up, set a good example for his younger brother and helped raise him so his mom never had to let him or any other piece of shit man back into their lives. What she she’d done though, this might’ve been worse than even his father coming back- she didn’t let in a man, she let it in a rat.

And what kind of parent screwed their kid’s friends?

It was Percy who’d gotten them kicked out of the party, stepped between him and his asshole teammates, guys who used to call his friends, like some kind of a hero, a real fucking diplomat. Maybe that was his attempt at making amends, he didn’t care, he still wanted to knock all his teeth in. That’s how Stifler operated- act first, think never. All emotion and no logic. While Percy mumbled something about the grass stains on his pants Stifler pushed his sleeves up, ready to charge at any moment until someone whistled behind him.

“Hey dicky smalls!”

He didn’t actually know who yelled it or what the line was exactly, but at the very least it was more creative than what anyone inside had come up. Stifler was relieved to see them too- Oz, Kendall, and Jake, and a passed out Mollie for whatever reason. He might’ve been an asshole but Stifler wasn’t the type to blow up and leave everyone else behind, his boys would also be his boys, as desperate and embarrassing as they were. Nothing compared to the friends you grew up with.

Then something occurred to him. “Wait. Weren’t you chodes supposed to get laid?”

ANYTHING ELSE?

1985 & don’t ever change that

#submission #accepted

3 notes · View notes

superhero--imagines · 3 years

Text

Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info I Instagram I Zine

A/N: Looking for a beta reader for a personal writing piece, let me know if you feel like you're a pretty good editor! Also this has been sitting in my drafts for like 2 months, and IDK maybe I'll do more of them since it's kinda fun.

* Omg this freak is so stupid into the fact that you literally create universes with those godly hands

* I’m not kidding, I think a good 80% of his initial attraction to you was because you’re writing will literally make you immortal

* “You’re going to live forever,” Satoru says slightly breathless as he holds one of your print publications in his hand

* You’re just like ‘wtf’ so he explains-

* “You die twice, once when your body can no longer sustain itself, and the second the last time someone says your name.”

* Ah, so he thinks you’ll live forever in the sense that someone will always reference your work

* “That’s not exactly true though, one day the sun will swallow the earth whole, turning everything we love to dust”

* Satoru thinks you sound just like a writer when you say stuff like that

* “Well, unless we find another planet and have a database there or something”

* Satoru googles ‘how to buy a planet’ and ‘how much would it cost to set up a database in space’

* He’s got no respect for your craft- and by that I mean if you’ve got a deadline you’re trying to meet for a submission period or for your editor whatever, he’s just got no respect for it

* Queue Gojo shenanigans where he’ll hide all the pens in the house, or hide your laptop or something just so he can see you all flustered and panicked

* “I DONT HAVE TIME FOR THIS I ONLY HAVE 12 HOURS TO GET THIS IN!!” You shriek running from one end of your home to the other looking desperately for your laptop charger

* It’s too late in the game to order another one, and you don’t trust leaving Gojo alone in this house

* More than once you’ve left the house to replace whatever Satoru stole only to return to see even more of your things were gone now

* One time he rearranged all the furniture

* “It’s up there,” Gojo says grinning, and you look up to the ceiling fan to see your laptop charger idly hanging off one of the panels

* “I’ll get it down for you if you give me a kiss,” he says cheekily

* There’s sort of a method to the madness

* Part of it is yeah, Gojo loves to laugh, and nothings funnier than you when you’re flustered

* But part of it is you’ve been hunched over your laptop for days now, and you’re starting to be mean to yourself because you’re frustrated

* You need a break

* One he’s more than happy to offer

* And a teeny tiny portion is because he’s lonely

* Whenever you get sucked into a project it’s like you forget about him completely

* So he just wants to remind you he’s here

* And that he loves you

* You sigh, giving him a quick peck, and with a wave of his hand he brings the charger down

* “I expect a better reward when you’re done with your story”

* I think Gojo is probably a pretty big fan of your work

* In fact he’s probably your #1 fan

* But he’s super low-key about it.

* Buys all your publications on pre-order (never in large amounts so you don’t notice)

* If you’ve got into a bigger journal/magazine, or have a book at a bookstore will buy a copy every time he passes by one and see’s it

* He keeps one copy of each work on his bookshelf in the living room

* And then stores the rest/extra copies in a velvet storage box in a temperature-controlled area

* He also has another set that he notoriously marks up with notes/annotations

* “This part sounds like the time I brought them food and took them on a spontaneous date” he’ll say, scribbling furiously into the margin

* Gojo see’s your writing as an extension of you- of your soul

* So he does his best to try and figure out where you get inspiration from

* He’s especially delighted if he notices something he did, inspired something you wrote -

* “Ah the villain hid the hero’s laptop charger so they couldn’t turn in their assignment on top,” he says with a sigh

* - Even if it’s not always positive

* Honestly he plays it so cool you think he doesn’t really think anything of your profession until you come over to his place for the first time and see all your works in a neat line on his shelf

* And even then you think he’s just supporting you because he loves you, after all, they’re all in great condition, he probably hasn’t even opened them.

* And then a little further into the relationship, probably when you move in together or something

* You find all those marked-up copies

* Gojo Satoru has never been redder

* You’re genuinely concerned he might combust

* He’s acting like you just found his porn stash or something

* You wait for a few minutes for him to stammer out an excuse or something

* But when he can’t seem to form any words after several minutes you sigh and close the box

* “I didn’t see anything”

* He just nods

* You start giving him copies of your work yourself now that you know he’s so interested

* “O-oh no it’s fine-“

* It’s actually one of the rare times you see Satoru flustered

* “It’s fine, I insist, I’ve got too many contributor copies anyway”

* He takes them in his hand blushing

* He would show up to all of your readings or signing events -

* Disguised Ofc

* “Hey you should be careful, that guy looks super sketchy-“

* You look to where your manager is pointing, to a tall lanky guy wearing a black hair wig, and these tacky thick-rimmed pink glasses and you sigh

* “No need to worry, that’s just my moronic boyfriend”

* “You don’t have to show up in disguise you know”

* “Well what was I supposed to do? You didn’t invite me” he’s doing that thing where he gets all shy, a blush on his face and his fingers tugging a strand of hair

* You sigh

* The dork is oddly lovable

* “Well, from now on you’ve got an open invitation to all my events”

* He smiles so bright you would think you just offered to blow him in the middle of the bookstore

* He’s got his shortcomings

* “SATORU DID YOU HIDE ALL MY REFERENCE BOOKS?!?!”

* But you couldn’t have asked for a more supportive boyfriend

* “Kiss me and maybe I’ll tell you where they’re at”

* Or a better muse

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #Gojo satoru x reader #Gojo satoru imagine #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru #Gojo x reader #gojou x y/n #saturo gojou #Satoru Gojo imagine #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru jjk #gojo satoru headcanon #superhero—imagines

105 notes · View notes

emeraldeyes23 · 4 years

Text

Fictober/Fantober2020 -

Day 12- Emergency

"Eiji, are you sure this is the right way? This area looks kind of shady..." Ash looked around suspiciously at the small dark alley lying before them. Eiji didn't want to admit it, but Ash had realized they were lost. Eiji didn't have a good sense of direction. In New York, Ash always led the way, but this was his first time in Tokyo. Therefore, he had naively assumed that Eiji would know his way around since he had been to Tokyo several times before. He had joined Eiji on a little trip to Tokyo because he had found a shop there that had the camera lens he had been looking for for a long time. According to Eiji, the lens was hard to find because they had stopped producing it. So, he had been thrilled to have found it in Tokyo and had made an appointment the following weekend. Tokyo reminded him of New York. It was as Eiji had told him back in New York. Lots of cars and people. Only Tokyo was even bigger than New York, with even more people coming and going, but everything was more organized. Eiji showed him the Shibuya crossing, the world's busiest pedestrian crossing. 2.500 people cross the street at a time, coming from all directions but miraculously never running into each other. It was fascinating. In New York, such a crosswalk would result in utter chaos. When you entered a subway here, people would stand in a queue, forming a straight line while people exited in the same orderly manner. They even had signs on the ground where to enter and exit, and the subway stopped at that exact spot. In New York, you never let people exit first; you just entered any way you wanted and pushed people deeper into the train if the train was crowded or barked at them to move. Seeing how people behaved here, he felt like a barbarian while the people here behaved like adults were supposed to act like, respecting rules and other people. They hadn't stayed long, but they had seen the Tokyo Tower, had been to Takeshita street in Harajuku because Eiji wanted him to see the cosplayers there, hoping he'd eventually understand his love for mangas. They had also been to Akihabara, where Eiji had looked for mangas, and Ash had found some books for himself, in Japanese and even in English. At the end, they had also walked through Ueno park for a while before Eiji headed for his appointment at the photo shop. Ash had enjoyed the little sightseeing tour Eiji had given him. Tokyo was fascinating. From the Tokyo Tower, you could even see Mount Fuji from the top and how wide Tokyo was reaching. They even had a beach there you could barely make out beyond a suspension bridge that Eiji told him was called Rainbow Bridge. When Eiji had found the camera shop, he had spent an hour looking around and bought a new camera bag and some other small items along with the lens. After Eiji had stuffed all the items in his backpack and they had left the shop, it was already dark outside. Now, they were standing in a dark alley that reminded Ash too much of the most dangerous part of Manhattan. Eiji looked nervously at him, then tried to make out the streets on the map with his smartphone's flashlight. "I'm not sure.", Eiji admitted honestly while looking at the map. The photo shop had been in a small alley next to a major shopping zone, but they had gone in the wrong direction. Ash had a bad feeling. He felt as if they were being watched. His survival instincts never failed him... "Let's try this street over there!", have said, seeing some lights coming from that direction before rounding a corner. Which had been a pretty bad idea as it turned out. When Ash rounded the corner only seconds later, Eiji had dropped his bag while a guy stood behind him, holding a knife against his throat. Eiji's eyes had widened in fear as he looked at Ash. "Give us all your money, and we won't harm you.", a man threatened them. He blended into the shadows of this dark alley perfectly with his back jeans and hoodie in the same color. Ash felt two other people approaching behind him. He sighed deeply and then calmly asked Eiji a question.

"Eiji, is it true what you told me? That weapons are illegal in Japan?" "Yes, it's true.", Eiji said, looking at him, his voice trembling slightly. Ash grinned devilishly at them while he gave the guy the most dangerous and intense glare he could muster. To his amusement, he saw the guy flinch and how the knife on Eiji's throat loosened when his hand began to tremble. Seeing his hesitation, Ash acted quickly, running towards the guy who had dared to put a knife against Eiji's throat at lightning-fast speed. He ran past him, appearing behind him, and with one quick move, he had twisted his arm in such an unnatural direction that the knife fell from his hand. At the same time, he grabbed Eiji with his other hand, pulling him to safety. After Eiji was safe, he told him to wait at the side of the road. Before the guy could react, he knocked him out with a blow to his head, falling to the ground with a loud thud. The other two stared at him and, after sharing a glance, decided to attack him. Ash could see it in their eyes. Before they could act, though, Ash had thrown the knife from his first opponent at the one standing on the right, hitting his right shoulder with great force long before he could use the knife in his hand. He dropped the knife before screaming put in pain and shouting insults at him. Ash just punched him, and he fell to the ground, unconscious. Then he grabbed the last one by the neck, who had just tried attacking him, pushing him forcefully against a wall. Then he held a knife against his throat. "Leave. Now. Or you won't survive this night!", Ash barked threateningly in English, glaring at them viciously. A translation wasn't necessary. A threatening tone and a death glare were understood everywhere. Those guys had understood by now that they were no match for him. They grabbed the still unconscious guy who had threatened Eiji and made a run for it. Be grateful that you're not dead. Had we been in NYC, I would have killed you without any hesitation. Ash returned to Eiji. He had crouched down at a wall, hugging his knees, and was trembling badly. Tears were running down his face while he was hyperventilating. Eiji's state reminded him that this was the typical reaction to violence. Fear, terror and panic. In contrast, his calm, fearless and unemotional attitude regarding violence was not normal. Eiji hadn't heard him approaching since he flinched slightly. Ash knelt down beside him and thought about how he could calm Eiji down. He mulled over what Eiji always did to soothe him. He could do that, too, right? He had to try, at least. "Eiji, it's me, Ash. You're safe, ok? Everything's fine." He gently grabbed his hand and felt how Eiji relaxed a bit. "A-Ash?", he gasped out, looking up, tears swimming in his eyes. It broke Ash's heart. He slowly moved closer and gently hugged him. When Eiji relaxed, he pulled him closer, stroking the back of his head. Eiji pulled him closer, clinging to him like a lifeline as he sobbed into his shoulder. Ash didn't say anything else, yet patiently stayed like this until Eiji had calmed down and was breathing normally again. Then, he slowly let go and softly grabbed his face with both hands and wiped his tears away with his thumbs. "Are you ok?", he asked before placing a small kiss on his forehead. Eiji always did that when he had a nightmare. It always made him feel protected and safe. He saw in Eiji's eyes that it worked on him as well because he attempted a small smile and nodded. "I feel so pathetic. You stayed calm, like always. You're my hero." "I'm not a hero, Eiji!"Ash exclaimed a bit too harshly. "I'm more of the evil opponent the hero fights against." Then he took a deep breath to calm himself. "And reacting to violence with fear and panic is the normal reaction. It's my reaction that isn't normal. Because violence is normal to me.", Ash explained sadly.

#banana fish #ash lynx #eiji okumura #anime #manga #ash x eiji #asheiji #fictober2020 #fantober2020

33 notes · View notes

gideonloser · 3 years

Text

Chapter five: The night's just begun

Once the stress of the cow monster trying to fight was over, the three found themselves in a pickle. Ash hopped down from the car and Farrah was able to get to her feet without help and seemed more or less steady, but then they were three kids, on the side of a road through a forest, next to a stolen and wrecked BMW, and a cow patterned pelt. The pelt was easy enough to deal with- Ash explained to Teddy that some monsters left behind trophies for the heroes that slayed them. She thought he should take it, as it was his quest, but he and Farrah both agreed it was hers, as she shot the Hail Mary that saved the day. Perhaps under different circumstances she would have argued more, but instead she just shoved it into her backpack and turned her attention back to the problems that weren’t so easily solved.

It was a quiet road, but someone was still bound to come by eventually and the three agreed it was best that they not be there when they do. A compass Farrah produced from her bag told them which way was West, and they started walking. That part seemed a little stupid to Teddy, as they weren’t exactly going to walk all the way to Salt Lake, but he didn’t object as he didn’t have a better plan. Eventually they found a place that was deemed far enough away from the crash to be non-suspicious- even if investigators did find them, Farrah would undoubtedly be able to come up with some kind of bluff that would explain why three teenagers were out in the middle of nowhere, and deny hearing or seeing anything about the crash, and at the distance they were, it would (hopefully) be believable.

After all the excitement, Teddy would have been perfectly happy to just flop down on his sleeping bag and sleep for days, but Ash insisted they all needed food first, and he couldn’t deny that a warm fire did sound nice. While Farrah sorted out what they could prepare with the skills they had, Ash insisted Teddy make the fire. She said since Apollo was the god of light and fire created light, he could have a special bonus there. Still, try as he might and with Ash right over his shoulder walking him through it, he couldn’t do it. When Farrah declared they could do hot dogs and had everything all ready but he still didn’t even have so much as a spark, he threw it all down in frustration and yielded to Ash.

As he watched her make the fire (which she got quickly, because of course she did), it occurred to him that he really didn’t know very much about her. As her face lit up dimly in the sparks, he thought about how he didn’t even know where she called home when she wasn’t at camp. This girl called herself his sister, and was willing to put her life on the line for his quest without even being asked. Once she sat back, satisfied with the blaze, and Farrah had distributed the hot dogs, he asked.

"Ash, what is your real life like?"

She turned to him and quirked an eyebrow.

"My what?"

He made a face at himself when he realized he had worded it a bit weirdly, and took the time in his head to make sure his internal translation wasn't lagging, as he sought a better way to word it.

"Like, where do you go when you're not at camp? What's your human family like?"

"I go to my mother's in Los Angeles. She, her husband, and my stepsister Zoe all live there. I do not have any half siblings on that side, though I do have one full sister, Q."

There was a lot to unpack there. First was that she had a full sibling, did Apollo like her mom so much that he came back? Second was that any full sibling of hers was also a half sibling of his, but he had never even heard of this Q, or seen her around camp. Third was the name Q. Was that supposed to be, like, Queue, or was it a nickname? And if it was a nickname, what was it short for? Quin, maybe?

He wasn't sure where to start with all his thoughts, but luckily Farrah seemed to sense his confusion and jumped in.

"Tell him more about Q."

"Q is my twin sister. It's short for Queenie. She joined the Hunters of Artemis a few years ago."

Farrah nodded along as she spoke, evidentially already knowing the story, but meanwhile Teddy was a little lost.

"The what?"

"They're an asexual immortal girl gang." Farrah answered in a helpful tone, but Ash shot her a glance warning her that it was not helpful, and Ash knew damn well that Farrah was aware of it when she said it.

"You know who Artemis is, right?"

"Apollo's twin sister. Goddess of..." That gave him a moment of pause. What exactly was she the goddess of, after all? He was still so new to all of this, and trying to keep everyone straight was hard. "...The moon?"

"Yes, among other things. Including the hunt and chastity." Ash started her answers quickly, almost as soon as Teddy finished speaking- probably just to cut off Farrah before she could contribute any more technically true but confusing nonsense. "So she has all these attendants- girls who pledge to serve her and to forsake the company of men, and in return Artemis makes them immortal. The only way they can die is being struck down in battle. Those are the Hunters."

"And Queenie is one?"

"Queenie is one." Ash confirmed. She suddenly busied herself with her hot dog, and what part of his face he could see while she did seemed sad.

"Do you ever get to see her?" He wasn't sure why he kept asking, especially since he could tell it was a sore spot, but she kept answering.

"Yes. Occasionally the Hunters visit camp, and we do try to Iris message once a month or so." She said, somewhat sadly. "It's just... weird. I mean, I keep aging but she doesn't. And for so long, she was always right by my side, and now she's just... gone."

Teddy went quiet. He understood that, probably more than anyone thought he did. His thoughts turned to his own private grief, which Farrah picked up on. In response, she did something very impulsively, that was also strangely selfless: she threw out her own pain that she had been carefully hiding for all to see, to distract him from his own.

"Ashley," She announced, shifting her body to fully face Ash, but still keeping an eye on Teddy out of the corner of her eye. "I think it's time we talk about Luke."

Teddy didn't need to know who Luke was to know whatever this was was bad news. The temperature seemed to drop and Ash sat up straight, raising her chin and looking at Farrah evenly. She crossed her arms, a gesture that Farrah mirrored, but when Farrah did it, it looked petulant and childish. When Ash did it, she held herself with an air of nobility and carried herself confidently.

"My name isn't Ashley, but okay. Let's talk about Luke."

"Who's Luke?" Teddy asked, hoping it would break the thick tension that had settled, but the girls didn't even break their eye contact.

"Why don't you answer that?" Farrah asked, feigning politeness. "He's your boyfriend."

"He was my boyfriend." She replied, stressing the past tense. "He is your brother."

"I don't care who answers it, can someone just do it?!" Teddy snapped, a little harsher than intended, but whatever had just come over the two girls freaked him out. Finally Farrah forfeited the staring contest, looking over at him.

"Remember the counselor I told you about when you first got to camp? The one who snapped last year and attacked another camper?" He gave a small nod- he didn't remember the details, but he did remember the gist. "That's Luke."

"Why do we need to talk about Luke?"

"What did you know about what he was planning?" Farrah asked, turning her attention back to Ash and ignoring the question.

"Like I already told Chiron," Ash replied, a hint of restrained anger in her voice. "Nothing. I wasn't a co-conspirator. He didn't even say goodbye before he attacked Percy and left."

"Which you didn't know about?" The question was somewhere between an accusation and a confirmation, but Ash nodded.

"Which I didn't know about."

"Wait, Percy Jackson?" Teddy interjected, and both girls nodded. "You hate Percy. You told me yourself that you hate Percy."

This time Ash looked over at him, irritation on her face.

"I think he's annoying, but that does not mean I asked or wanted my boyfriend to try to murder him." She replied, which did seem like solid logic. He nodded, and she looked back at Farrah. "What did you know about what he was planning?"

"No more than anyone else!" She said, immediately defensive. "He complained about our father all the time, but I didn't think he would actually do anything about it!"

"Why does anyone have to know anything about Luke?" Teddy interrupted before Farrah started full on screaming, which got both of them to look at him.

"What?" One, or possibly, both asked.

"Why does anyone have to know anything? Why couldn't Luke have just acted alone and nobody knew anything?"

That idea seemed to calm both of them down considerably and when they looked back at each other, there was sympathy.

"I'm sorry that you lost your brother." Ash offered, her voice still a little guarded, but overall kind.

"Thanks." Farrah said, a bit measured but overall offering an olive branch. "...Do you still love him?"

Ash went quiet, and both the younger teens couldn't help but wonder if Farrah had overstepped as she stared into the flames. The shifting light cast sharp shadows that accentuated all the emotions, of which she seemed to have many, across her face. It seemed odd that she could all but accuse her of conspiring to murder a twelve year old and that was fine, but when she asked about an ex, that was off limits.

"I don't know if I ever loved him." She finally answered, still staring into the fire. "He was my first... Well, my first everything. I can't make that ever go away. And I would always rather be behind his shield than in front of his sword."

Suddenly she looked up. It seemed a second fire had been lit behind her eyes, which glowed with intensity as she looked at them.

"But if I'm called on to defend my home or my family, I won't hesitate. I'll fight to his death, or mine."

#demigod au #writing #take the fall

1 note · View note

erenthecoordinate · 5 years

Text

Eren’s Possible Endgame

For the whole of this arc, Eren’s motivations have been a mystery to much of the fandom. His words speak of freedom for the people in Paradis, while his actions provoke an all-out war charged by the rest of the world’s advanced forces. We’ve learned that Zeke’s big intention for getting himself and the Coordinate together was to rewrite Eldian DNA so they may never create future generations, a method to prevent their race from suffering any more harm from the oppressive world they reside. Eren has been aware of this since his first meeting with Yelena, and counsels with Zeke in Marley to enact this plan. Eren’s words to Zeke are everything he wants to hear. Mass genocide of their own race is the only path to freedom.

Or at least, Zeke and his followers seem to think so. But does Eren, one that had once vocalized the value of freedom is granted to those who are born into the world, that life and living are the only way to be free, that fighting to break those chains that others cast upon them will obtain that goal, really believe in Zeke’s solution? Is forcibly preventing future generations from carrying on their race’s existence the only way for them to be released from their figurative and literal slavery?

[If you want to skip the grueling hard work I put about an hour into because I’m getting tired of having to repeat this, like, all the time, every chapter, I have an in-summary at the end.]

I think when we visit the core of Eren’s morality, he certainly harbors a great deal of resentment to the situation he was placed in. He values his freedom, of course, and he’ll fight tooth and nail to obtain that. But with new knowledge, he’s learned that while what exists beyond the ocean is his enemy, the ones who are truly to blame are those who pass on their fears, their anger, their hate to their children, so that they may continue planting the seeds that keep the cycle of oppression spinning. It’s an inevitable happening. There is no way to stop it so long as people are ingrained with this mindset. Eren understands this, and that people cannot help if the environment they live in affects their ideas of other people. The world is cruel like that. He is no exception, of course.

That said, how can Eren commit the act of involving casualties of war, of any demographic, and deprive the choice of others to bring new life in the world, to force Eldians to die off? And if that’s not the case, what do his actions plan to achieve?

Chapter 118’s typeset recently released and while it’s no official translation, the context of the dialogue isn’t difficult to misinterpret. The chapter, among previous ones that question Eren’s motives, indicate that much of what Eren is doing is being forced upon him. Why else would Eren even agree to enact the Rumbling and genocide their own race? Armin, finally, persuades the 104th that the Eren they know wouldn’t do this. The decision was not Eren’s to make. Essentially, since many have presumably been consuming Zeke’s spinal fluid, it isn’t hard to imagine that there was an ultimatum here. I’ve mentioned this previously that this might be the case that explains why Eren so easily cooperated with Zeke and dragged his friends into a surprise-attack battle. I think Armin’s suppressed laugh in ch116 is his reaction to the concept, that there is no way Eren would actually agree to this.

Eren is, however, adamant about initiating contact with Zeke to do-- something. I think a lot of what was mentioned in terms of the Rumbling, the manipulation of DNA, the war of the worlds, Paths, etc. will come into play in the final climax, and I believe Eren’s intentions are to commit the small scale devastation with the payoff being a temporary “world peace.” Yeah, peace. Not just restricted to Eldians, this will involve everyone.

Basically, my theory is that the Rumbling is going to happen. Throughout the story, much of what Armin speculates using his logic, not personal feelings, tends to be right. He guesses that Eren will use the Coordinate to effectively destroy the world’s military forces that will arrive at their doorstep, using the wall titans in Shingangina to pose a warning and protect the island from attacks until they are able to fend for themselves. Only Eren can call upon any orders, be it awakening the Wall Titans, sterilizing the population, or both.

There is a fear that Eren is rage-filled enough to wipe out the entire world if he willed it. He says so himself that he is capable of destroying everyone. But Armin recalling Eren’s words when he first sees the ocean, that if they kill their enemies, they may be free, emphasizes the keyword enemies. He brings it up before he transforms in Liberio. However, in his conversation with Reiner prior, he admits that he thought everyone on the other side of the ocean were his enemies, then realized when living among them and experiencing their environment, that they were the same as anyone else.

Anyone can look like a bad guy. Anyone can look like a hero. There is empathy for those he once saw as “the enemy.” But it’s clear that “the enemy” is not the world, but those that oppress people’s freedoms. He has had this philosophy since he was young, but ending the world isn’t a viable option like killing the kidnappers were in his eyes-- in fact, despite the intentions, it’s often brought up as an alarming act by a child. But unlike before, those views aren’t so black and white, and he has grown beyond vengeance but rather sees the violence as an act of duty and necessity. He has to destroy his enemies because, sadly, diplomacy can’t bring their guns down if they still have guns in their hands in the first place.

So, the Rumbling will happen. They anticipated the world’s mightiest to arrive for their assault, and if they choose to attack even when the Wall Titans are mobile and near indestructible, then that’s their choice to risk their lives. And it’s more than likely that all forces will join together to stop a common enemy (this doesn’t mean they are forever allies, but I’ll get to that in a sec). They had already been motivated by Willy Tybur’s speech. That was the cog needed to rotate this in action. Had the world refused and not cheered for Willy upon his declaration, perhaps there would be no need to get the whole world involved. Or else Eren wouldn’t have waited for a queue to attack, why bother waiting until Willy officially declared war, finished his speech, prevent other nations from listening before they can agree. Willy was the ignorant adult to persuade every ambassador there, and the world proved themselves to be easily manipulated children. So long as a well respected person is to call someone the devil, that person will be the devil to their followers. Which is why the play, the Attack on Liberio, reclaiming the Warhammer titan was so vital.

But what of after that? Once this common enemy is destroyed, Paradis will become a land to conquer because of its resources. Hizuru, even as supposed allies to Paradis, lend their help with the trade of ice burst stones, which is a limitless energy source that can provide extended use of fuel. Resources are the reason why Marley plans to take the island eventually, because using Titans as their weapons will become obsolete. Other nations are advancing and the need for shifters and pure titans pose less and less of a threat with each war. With Marley now crippled, there is no stopping the world from fighting for that territory and those resources, effectively causing them to fight each other (which they have been already). The cycle of war isn’t stopping and perhaps it will never stop. Especially if those armies exist. Simply because they fought against their biggest enemies, it does not mean the world will come together in cooperation- this is brought up in the earlier chapters of the manga. Eren even says that it is basically ignorant (too optimistic) to believe humanity can be brought together as one even if they fight a common enemy. This wasn’t the case when Titans were their only antagonists, and it doesn’t apply to the rest of the world.

Eren may not be actively solving every crime imaginable when it comes to wiping nations, and he may not be doing this specifically to reduce the amount of war for an extended period for the world. He takes the survival of Paradisians as a priority, but dismantling militaries force nations to halt their fighting and to build up from the start. This gives Paradis more time to build their own defenses, while making fair connections with allies that won’t make them vulnerable if they cannot compromise on certain actions, and puts them at a level playing field whenever the world is ready to fight again. Which is exactly what Paradis needs. It is not an infinite “world peace” and it’s not even really “peace” but it is a semicolon to the chaos so that Paradis can catch up with modern technology. Specifically, without Titans.

That’s where the agreement with Zeke stops. Eren doesn’t want to sterilize his people, but he does want them free. And the only way to free Eldians is to get rid of the Titans, as he has always said. Except this time, he really means the identity of Titans. If rewriting Eldian DNA can be done to cure sickness, sterilize the population, become titans at all, literally healing shifters and pure titans from any injury, why wouldn’t the DNA be written to severe the ties the physical body has to the invisible Paths that connect Ymir to her people? True that this will be a big leap of chance on Eren’s part, but it isn’t illogical to come to that conclusion. The power of Ymir, the Founding Titan specifically, can stretch that influence to Eldians at any proximity. No matter where Eldians are, they are always bound to the curse, and therefore will always able to become a titan. The world cannot get over that fear because it’s simply true- Eldians can become cannibalistic monsters. It’s their fate and genetic makeup that chains them to that identity, and they have no choice in the matter. Even as Pure Titans, they are victims to only their subconscious, their intellect and morality suspended, not even aware of what they are doing. Shifters are pre-determined to die in 13 years despite their near indestructible and powerful bodies. Titans brought upon suffering in the world and caused a race of people, some who had no idea that they could become monsters in the first place, to be ostracized, enslaved, feared, despised, abused, and murdered for the misunderstanding that they are pre-determined to be evil people. Because, to the world, monsters are evil, even if in reality that is not always the case.

So if the existence of physical monsters are no longer present, and the world learns of this, Paradis is able to prove this and properly have the time to establish peace among nations, then the fear is at least partially diminished. Oppression will always be a thing, but the important thing is that the possibility of being a Titan will no longer be there and eventually that aspect from others’ minds will very, very gradually die as generations are less likely to hear this from their parents, or at least less inclined to believe it if there are clearly no more Titans around at all. Even the Walls may be broken. Even those in the frontlines in this current battle who may turn into Titans because of Zeke’s inevitable scream will revert back and no longer have to worry about it happening again. The ability to be a “monster” in personality will lie solely on choice, and not because it is predestined upon birth.

Breaking the Paths will likely also prevent an Ackerbond from being created. While Ackermans aren’t affected by memory manipulation and possibly not even DNA alterations, they are still descendants of Ymir by biology and their bonds are remnants of Paths taking effect. Ackermans perhaps have more free choice than Eldians themselves to create their bonds at all or perhaps break them, but as the bonds exist, they have a bias to follow their “lord” (or “master” as Eren means) and said lord’s motivations. It isn’t to say Ackermans cannot have their own dreams, but they are still inflicted with the Paths that can possibly affect some judgement. Breaking the Paths themselves will prevent that connection if you think about it logically.

Of course, this doesn’t quite align with Eren’s words to Mikasa. I think Armin’s important role in ch118 (and really his reason for existing in the story) is to remind everyone that Eren’s actions have a greater meaning, and had he not brought up potential lies that Eren made about the Ackerbond to Mikasa, it would have been more questionable that he’d lie at all than it is now. It’s possible that those words were to break Mikasa free on her own without simply severing the Paths. It’s also relatively fool-proof, as severing Paths would only be a theory in Eren’s mind, and not an absolute.

And finally it comes down to the pregnancy. Historia at this point already accepted shouldering the burden of carry children to pass down the Beast Titan, and the government was willing to see this through as cooperation with Hizuru to do this. Initially, Eren was opposed to this, but of course Yelena (or Eren) as part of the ultimatum with Zeke told Historia that her early pregnancy was to ensure Zeke’s safety for an appropriate amount of time to act. However, I also believe it could have been used as a backup plan in case breaking Paths did not succeed, or that he had no actual choice but to enact mass sterilization (which would probably only happen on terms of a massive threat). I’m not saying this was Eren’s initial intention, and that he very much is still against Historia’s forced circumstances, but if it was all going to happen for the sake of Zeke anyway, it wouldn’t be far-fetched to assume that once that plan is carried out, Historia’s unborn child will be unaffected by this DNA change.

Allegedly, when a shifter dies naturally, Paths dictate that the next born, not conceived, Eldian baby will receive power. This implies that Paths and therefore the Founding’s actions do not affect unborn children. In this case, the race will not die off, as it can be carried on by another. Even if this weren’t true, Historia herself would have to remain fertile (as well as someone else) to continue producing children until Eldians on Paradis are able to either A) stabilize their forces that make them formidable against large armies or B) Eldians gradually die off without war consuming them all.

While it’s not quite clear why Eren has not told anyone this, I think it’s basically what Armin expect as him being pushed to a corner and unable to tell them to truth. They were involved in war to show that the weakness he has toward his friends’ survival, which that he made very clear that he cares deeply about (and why would he have ANY reason to lie), would not interfere with Zeke’s plan. He trusted them to be able to survive, yet Sasha’s death proved that he couldn’t even do that-- he had almost no choice but to push them away and locked them up. He kept them at a distance so Zeke, Yelena, and the Marleyan allies are not suspicious. Ultimately keeping them in one place yet near enough lets him keep an eye on them so that they are still safe. Would they have understood? Maybe. But it doesn’t mean they would agree to a massive world war to destroy armies. There are a lot of risks involved and it won’t solve everything, but to Eren this would be the best method to defend against oppressors while removing the chains. He can’t have his facade broken like he broke down when Sasha was killed. He can’t afford that to interfere. And he, everyone, can’t afford to sit down and do absolutely nothing, as they have been doing before Eren, by Hange’s admittance, decided to be the one to act.

The theme of the story is to break free from the walls holding you back. It’s an experience Isayama has lived as a kid, that as he grew he envisioned to experience the world beyond his town. Armin and Eren are very literal when they are young, and Armin still speaks of freedom as a physical obtainment and knowledge, something global, but Eren projects his version of freedom to apply to the will of others in a general sense, more self-focused. That one cannot truly be free if they are bound by threads of fate, that truly free choices cannot be made if there is both an actual and metaphysical boundary preventing them from reaching whatever dreams they desire. Eren himself wants to be free, but that also means freeing his people. Ironically, he binds himself to the responsibility. He even emphasizes with Reiner’s confession that he wanted to be a hero and that’s why he committed to breaking the walls; Eren doesn’t necessarily want to be respected or seen as a hero, but he chooses to take on that responsibility to be that symbol, even if there are many that see him as a monster to do it. Because even if Reiner had the best intentions, he was still hated. Eren will be the same way and he accepts this.

But he must not become one to destroy all, but one to grant choices that will advance their existence forward. That’s literally what this manga is titled. That’s exactly the titan he harnesses. Choice is a word that has been nearly every character’s vocabulary at some point. Which is what the entirety of this series is based on and has been consistently presented by other characters, Levi, Erwin, Armin, Mikasa, Jean, etc. Eren severing the bounds and eliminating the threatening oppressors grant choice to his people, and to Eren, willpower and choice are what bring a person freedom.

In summary:

Eren will enact the Rumbling to fend off and effectively destroy international armies. This will put the world at a level playing field in terms of military buildup so that Paradis is able to make its connections and advance aka “obtaining more time.” Eren will not follow Zeke’s sterilization plan. He will severe Paths and effectively end “all Titans” (not Eldians) so that his people can be free. This may include Ackermans. Historia’s unborn child will not be affected by the sterilization so long as it remains unborn for the duration of the plan IF Eren is forced.

Thematically, it makes sense for the story’s direction. It makes sense for Eren’s direction. All the story’s morals about choices, free will, influence, war-- everything comes to relevancy here and all has a reason to be lesson exposed to Eren, specifically.

Eren’s character moral is to not become like the opposition, which is revealed to be Zeke and his ideology. He must fight against that. It has always been about fighting and breaking free. It’s completely ridiculous to believe otherwise. It is completely ridiculous to believe Eren would throw away his personal connections and beliefs in favor of listening to the people who slaughtered his comrades, who advocated for a continuous cycle that would ensure their containment, who think death is the only freedom, who will continue killing innocent people. His philosophy and love for his friends, both that he lives by to the fullest extent since the very beginning, contradict all of that.

I’m not sure if my theory will be completely correct, but as far as events are going in the manga, as well as the development of Eren as a character and the story’s symbol, to Advance, I think a lot of these outcomes are likely.

#eren yeager #eren jaeger #snk meta #snk chapter 118 #snk spoilers #meta #theory #analysis #mypost #erentag

179 notes · View notes

yandere-musings · 6 years

Note

Omg I loved your previous apathetic fem s/o imagines!! If your requests are still open, would you mind continuing Tomura’s? 👀👀

Yandere Shigaraki Pt.2

Wow I got a lot of requests and input in for the first part! Might make a mini series if I get enough requests. Decided to leave the end with a bit of a cliffhanger. Next chapter might be nsfw hehe ♡ (link to first part)

****

WARNING: The following contains dark and triggering themes of emotional abuse, violence, stalking and noncon. Read at your own risk!

Yandere type: posessive, controlling, delusional

The next few weeks that passed were absolute bliss to Tomura. Despite the anger of failed missions, the frustration of his bickering underlings and the painful bruises from his encounters with heros, he was still on cloud nine. All because he knew that waiting back at home was his beloved y/n . No matter the struggles he faced, Tomura had peace of mind knowing that the second he saw you, all his worries would melt away.

It was heavenly finally having you at his side where you belonged. Now he was able to love and cherish you like he had fantasized about for months. And although you promised that you wouldn't try to escape, Tomura still kept you locked inside his room while he was away. He wasn't ready to give you unsupervised reign of the house just yet. There wasn't much you could do, given that you were quirkless, but it was just to be safe. Maybe someday he would allow you to walk around the house freely. At least he didn't have to feel guilty about keeping you in the cage anymore.

Ever since he brought you home, you had been so well behaved. Not once had you tried to reject his love, never cringing away from his touch or kisses. You deserved a reward for being so good. What started as a simple grocery run ended with a spree of him buying gifts and clothing for his precious sweetheart. But he didn't regret it. Why would he feel guilty about his spending when he's only commemorating his darling's behaviour? Although... It did mean he had to go out in public without his father to shield his face. Despite the anxiety being exposed like that caused him, the thought of seeing your smile made it easy to endure. Tomura pulled out the keys to his room with bags in hand and unlocked the door to his bedroom, your prison.

He set down the grocery bags before gently removing father from his sweater pocket and placed him on the dresser. He wandered back to his bed where you were curled up fast asleep. He stood over your sleeping form, just watching. Such a precious sight. He simply had to take a moment to soak in how perfect you looked being surrounded by his posessions.

"Y/n... I'm home," he cooed quietly, reveling in how natural it felt to have those words leave his lips. He gently pushed the hair from your face for a better view. Your eyes fluttered open and you began to stirr. The sight of your adorable body, wearing his t shirt and shorts as pajamas, so exposed and vulnerable... How tantalizing. Tomura pressed a kiss to the side of your head before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"I brought you some presents. Some snacks I watched you eat before. You must really like them, you used to but them a lot. Oh and-... and some cute new clothes. As much as I love seeing you wearing mine, it'll be nice to have something.... just for you. Be sure to try them on later so I know they fit, okay?"

A lie. Tomura knew you would fit everything perfectly. He had your measurements memorized by heart. You sat up and yawn, nodding your head at his request. Without even being asked, you crawl into his lap. This was the routine now. He would come home and you would cuddle. Sometimes even make-out. It started as him commanding it but now, having you do it of your own accord. It felt natural. Like you truly wanted to do it of your own volition. Your legs straddled his sides and his hands moved to loosely hold your waist.

"Tell me you love me," he commanded, relaxing as he leaned forward to rest his face in the crook of your neck

"I love you Tomura," you replied robotically.

"Mmm good girl," he praised, "Now hold me... And tell me how much you love staying by my side," he continued, whispering against your skin. Your arms snake around his shoulders automatically, cradling his head.

"Thank you for taking care of me. I never want to leave," you responded on queue. There was a clear emptiness in your voice. A blatant disconnection from the words to the feelings you spoke of. That coupled with that blank look you gave him made it obvious. Though those eyes held no fear... they held no love either. But it was alright. One day you would adjust to living this way. You'd learn to love him as passionately as he loved you. Tomura's hand reached up to trail his knuckles over your cheek. For now you were just going with the flow of things. That face of yours that was always smiling before was now bare of emotion. Nonchalant and blank. He wanted to change that. See a new kind of expression. A sly smirk began to spread across his face as an idea sparked into his mind.

"Hey... what would you consider our relationship to be?"

Kidnapper and Hostage? Psychopath and civilian? Murderer and their next victim? Take your pick, you thought.

"I don't... I don't know what you want me to say," you admitted.

Tomura's lips curled sinisterly, making you feel you more uncomfortable to being this close to him. He had moments where his delusions were stronger than others. You prayed this wasn't one of them. Despite how sane he acted sometimes, you knew Shigaraki Tomura was anything but. A chill ran down your back as one of his hands now began to slide up underneath your shirt, slowly trailing up and down your spine.

"Would you say that we're growing close y/n? Like friends?" he asked sweetly.

"I suppose," you forced yourself to say.

Tomura's grin grew wider.

"Would you say that we're more than friends? Lovers even?" he continued, emphasizing the word lovers painfully so.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat that was beginning to form but no words were coming out. The way his ruby eyes were transfixed up at you with such laser focus. It was the look of a predator eyeing up its prey. You always did as he asked for survival but the way he was looking at you now. You really didn't like it. A finger tapped your back, drawing your attention back.

"Weeeell?" He asked, waiting for your response.

"I-... I guess so?"

He giggled.

"Heheh... I'm glad you think so too, Y/n! Tell me... what do lovers do that friends don't? What makes a lover so special?" He quizzled, his opposite hand slinking lower to caress your backside. You stiffen up against him. Oh god please no.

"T-they kiss?" you stammered out.

"Aaaaand?" he drawled, nuzzling his face against your neck.

"Th-they get married?" you squeak nervously, lightly leaning away from him slightly. Tomura sits back and looks up at you, his smile turning sickeningly sweet.

"Oh y/n .. is that your way of telling me that you want us to get married?"

"Uh.. I'm not-" you begin, starting to panic. Tomura's arms quickly snaked around youe waist and pulled you flush against his chest. He pressed his head against your breasts and let out a maniacal giggle.

"Ah, don't worry my love! I know you're too embarrassed to talk about that stuff yet! Why... I can hear your heart just pounding," he wheezed dreamily, pressing his ear to your skin. Slowly, he tilted his head up, eyes locking onto yours through the strands of hair. His sickening grin resurfaced, spreading wide across his features and making him look all the more disturbed.

"What else do lovers do Y/n?"

You began to tremble, for the first time you were becoming genuinely scared of him. And he was loving it.

"Th-they... Have k-ki-kids?"

He inhaled sharply and let joyful screech before quickly grabbing you from around your midsection and flipping you backwards onto the bed. You plopped down and before you could even try to struggle, Tomura quickly got on top, pinning you down by sitting on your hips. His hands pushed your wrists back and held them above your head but you didn't dare move them. Not when you knew the terrifying power those very hands possessed.

"That's right y/n! They have kids. Such a beautiful thing, to start a family of your own! I've dreamed of having one for years and years. You see, I never really had a family. I didn't think I'd ever get the chance. Never imagined that I'd meet a girl who could see past my flaws and fall in love with me. But you... You're perfect y/n. Perfect for me! We're meant to be together! You're the only one who could love me. You were the only one to show me such selfless kindness. Like an angel, sent to atone for all the cruelty I've had to endure! Since we met, I can't stop think about you and the life we could have together. We could get married and have a family of our own! Wouldn't that be magical? And you know what lovers do in order to have children right?! YOU KNOW RIGHT?!" he heaved above you, eyes straining down so intensely it was impossible to look away.

Aside from the involuntary trembling, you couldn't bring yourself to move. You wanted to scream and push him off. To run and hide from those terrifying eyes that were filled to the brim with his delusional sense of love. You had been complacent and done everything he told you to do. Was he gonna rape you? Was he finally going to kill you despite his vows to never to harm you? Suddenly, his heavy breathing stopped. As if a switch had been flicked off. Tomura's expression relaxed, returning to normal. But the glint in his eyes still didn't lessen your fear.

"You know... they say that when you make love to the person you hold most precious, it feels like you're becoming one with them. Doesn't that sound wonderful y/n? Being so intimately close with the one you love most? I've never experienced such a connection. I've always wanted to of course. But I didn't want to bother unless it was with my one true love..."

Tomura leaned down, tongue flickering out to lap up the tears you didn't know you had been shedding. His tongue licked your lips before he sat back up. He ground his hips down, making you feel the buldge starting to grow.

"Hey y/n... Let's make love."

#shigaraki tomura #yandere tomura #mha tomura #shiragaki tomura #tomurashigaraki #yandere #yandere shigaraki #yandere bnha #yandere boku no hero acadamia #yandere my hero acadamia #yandere x reader

1K notes · View notes

eraserisms · 2 months

Text

Shota Aizawa + Personality & Features / Apple doesn't fall far from the tree

Shota's worldviews and thought processes didn't just materialize out of thin air. As far as his personality goes he is certainly more like his mother over his father. Shota's mother is an attorney and a very 'A-Type' personality. She is primarily driven by logic and reasoning and is work orientated. Logical vs. Emotional thinking is a characteristic that Shota certainly inherited from Misako. Shota also has never been late to a day of work and that's another Misako-ism that has become a part of Shota.

The enjoyment Shota gets when he is able to fool someone, also comes from Misako. Misako is the kind of person who will tell you that the ocean is pink for the sake of seeing if you'll believe her. Mrs. Aizawa is also quick to anger. While Shota is apathetic about a lot of things; when Shota is mad, he is mad and has no problem showing those emotions.

As far as his looks go, his expressions also are more like his mom's than his dad's. When Shota is angry, his expressions are nesrly the same as his mother's. Misako is a force to be reckoned with in court and can silence her children with just a look. Although, when Misako isn't feeling some type of emotion, her default setting is 'resting bitch face' which is another thing that she and Shota share.

Traits that he has inherited from his father is his ability to work well with children. This is less so a trait that he was gifted, but something that he ended up learning over time. His brother is seven years younger than him and was often sick as a child so Shota learned to navigate that. Shota also has more cousins than he can count. He also has a niece from his sister who lived with them for at least three years.

In general, it takes a lot to get Souta Aizawa angry and he and Shota share a more laid back attitude about life as a whole. Souta also is the more emotional parent and will be caught on occasion crying about things that have made him genuinely happy. While that isn't a feature that he and Shota share, his more somber & low moods often reflect Shota's.

In regards of his looks, Shota is essentially a copy/paste of his father. Sometimes if one of them has their back is turned, it's easy for someone to mistake one for the other. While the amusement he gets out of 'rational deceptions' comes from his mother, the facial expression he makes come from Aizawa Sr.. Souta Aizawa uses the same toothy smug grin that Shota does when he feels he has gotten away with something. Unlike his father however, Shota's expression isn't as friendly or forgiving and is much more unsettling to see.

#headcanons: unfold your own myth #queue: a true hero knows when to act and when to wait

3 notes · View notes

justforbooks · 5 years

Photo

'A troubling choice': authors criticise Peter Handke's controversial Nobel win

Writers including Salman Rushdie, Hari Kunzru and Slavoj Žižek say the 2019 Nobel laureate ‘combines great insight with shocking ethical blindness’

Twenty years before Peter Handke would become a Nobel laureate, he won another title. In 1999, Salman Rushdie named him the runner-up for “International moron of the year” in the Guardian, for his “series of impassioned apologias for the genocidal regime of Slobodan Milošević”. (The winner was actor Charlton Heston, for being a gun lobbyist.)

The Austrian playwright, whose Slovenian heritage had inspired in him a fervent nationalism during the Balkans war, had publicly suggested that Sarajevo’s Muslims had massacred themselves and blamed the Serbs, and denied the Srebrenica genocide. Seven years after Rushdie’s scorching condemnation, in 2006, he would also attend war criminal Milošević’s funeral.

On Thursday, after the announcement of Handke’s win of the 9m Swedish krona prize (£786,000), Rushdie told the Guardian: “I have nothing to add today, but I stand by what I wrote then.”

The decision to award Handke the 2019 laureateship – alongside Poland’s Olga Tokarczuk for the 2018 medal – was widely criticised by observers as a broken promise on two fronts.

First, the Swedish Academy’s apparent commitment to be less “male-oriented” and “Eurocentric” just days before had been quickly proven false, with two European winners and only the 15th female laureate in 120 years. Secondly, having declared that the prize would take a fallow year to reassess its direction after a now infamous sexual harassment scandal, the academy had left observers hopeful that the Nobel would stop eliding controversy with intellectual rigour, and choose authors that could be praised for both their work and their politics.

“Handke is a troubling choice for a Nobel committee that is trying to put the prize on track after recent scandals,” said author Hari Kunzru, who has taught the laureate’s work to his students. “He is a fine writer, who combines great insight with shocking ethical blindness.”

Kunzru said he believed that Handke would have won the Nobel earlier, “had he not decided to act as a propagandist for the genocidal Milošević regime”. He added: “More than ever we need public intellectuals who are able to make a robust defence of human rights in the face of the indifference and cynicism of our political leaders. Handke is not such a person.”

Slavoj Žižek, Slovenian philosopher and longtime critic of Handke, told the Guardian: “In 2014, Handke called for the Nobel to be abolished, saying it was a ‘false canonisation’ of literature. The fact that he got it now proves that he was right. This is Sweden today: an apologist of war crimes gets a Nobel prize while the country fully participated in the character assassination of the true hero of our times, Julian Assange. Our reaction should be: not the literature Nobel prize for Handke but the Nobel peace prize for Assange.”

Slovenian author Miha Mazzini said: “Some artists sold their human souls for ideologies (Hamsun and Nazism), some for hate (Celine and his rabid antisemitism), some for money and power (Kusturica) but the one that offended me the most was Handke with his naivety for the Milošević regime. And it’s personal. I will never forget the cold winter when Yugoslavia was falling apart and there was nothing on the shelves of the stores. We were a young family and my daughter was a toddler and it was bitterly cold. I’d spent the whole day in the queue for the heating oil and in the evening, almost frozen, I started reading Handke’s essay about Yugoslavia. He wrote of how he envied me: while those Austrians and Germans, those westerners, had fallen for consumerism, we, Yugoslavs, had to queue and fight for everything. Oh, how close to the nature we were! How less materialistic and more spiritualised we were! Even at the time, I found him cruel and totally self-absorbed in his naivety.”

And in a statement issued on Thursday, novelist Jennifer Egan, president of literature and human rights organisation Pen America, said that while Pen “does not generally comment on other institutions’ literary awards ... today’s announcement must be an exception.

“We are dumbfounded by the selection of a writer who has used his public voice to undercut historical truth and offer public succor to perpetrators of genocide, like former Serbian President Slobodan Milosevic and Bosnian Serb leader Radovan Karadzic,” Egan continued. “We reject the decision that a writer who has persistently called into question thoroughly documented war crimes deserves to be celebrated for his ‘linguistic ingenuity.’ At a moment of rising nationalism, autocratic leadership, and widespread disinformation around the world, the literary community deserves better than this. We deeply regret the Nobel Committee on Literature’s choice.”

Handke’s politics have long been derided by former friends and authors. In 2008, novelist Jonathan Littell remarked: “He might be a fantastic artist, but as a human being he is my enemy … he’s an asshole.” Alain Finkielkraut called him “an ideological monster”, while Susan Sontag, who spent several months in Sarajevo during the Bosnian war staging a performance of Waiting for Godot, said Handke’s comments had “finished” him among his former friends in New York.

Dr Helen Finch, associate professor in German at the University of Leeds, praised Handke’s ability to explore “the fringes of human experience in an extraordinary way and for his “early and complex form of ecopoetics”, but said his Nobel win “shows that the prize committee is still infatuated by white European men writing in an elitist poetic tradition, and is cloth-eared to the political complicity of those men”.

Some were pleased by Handke’s win, however: Serbian media lined up to praise the decision, calling Handke a “great friend”, while Austrian president Alexander Van der Bellen called Handke’s voice “unfussy and unique … We have a lot to thank Peter Handke for. I hope he knows that.”

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS #Peter Handke

13 notes · View notes

iamsamball93 · 5 years

Text

The Joy of Live Music

Everyone’s teen years differs from others, some have the best years other life, others can’t wait to hit their twenties and never think about their high school years ever again. One thing we can all agree on, though, is that they’re some of the toughest years you’ll ever go through and nothing quite prepares you for the change in hormones, awkward experiences, and starting to understand who you are as a person.

To be blunt, I was the girl with a tonne of friends, a massive friendship group and a relatively stable home life, yet I was also a total loner. My friends and I didn’t really have anything in common, everyone was keen to star relationships, they didn’t have the same taste in music as me and I felt I had nothing to bring to my circle of friends. So, if there was one thing I was thankful for at that stressful time, it was travelling the country for live shows.

It was back in late 2006 when my mum started listening to My Chemical Romance, I’d been banging on about them for a good year and a half, but she wasn’t having any of it, and then she saw Gerard Way and life started to change. By that Christmas, she’d already booked a trip to Paris for us to see them live.

I suppose should take it back a bit further though, first. I was almost six when I attended my first concert, mum told me some BS lie to keep the secret and before I knew it we were at Manchester Arena (then MEN Arena) and she told me to poke my head through the door and look at the stage because I’d be seeing Steps on it in a few hours. That was 1999.

To follow that, I saw Busted a few times, McFly a few more and Darren Hayes (Savage Garden’s frontman) and I’d fallen in love with how cool it was to see my idols on stage in front of me, the artists whose albums I’d had on repeat for months on end, the people that only seemed real on the other side of a television screen. I actually cried at the. Steps show because they walked down the aisle beside where I was sat bandit really hit me how real they were.

Around 2007 was when I really started to going to shows more frequently, I was surprised with tickets to Decaydance Festival in London where Fall Out Boy, Panic! At the Disco, The Academy Is…, Cobra Starship & Gym Class Heroes were on the bill, I attended my first 30 Seconds to Mars show and saw My Chemical Romance live five times that year.

I’ve become lax the past few years, I don’t queue for fifteen hours like I used to, I don’t brave all weathers to make sure I’m at the barrier and I rarely make it into the venue for the support bands, but I highly recommend people dedicate a bit more time into watching the support acts. I’ve lost count of the number of bands I started following, became friends with, promoted, through seeing them support someone else. You Me At Six, Kids In Glass Houses, Funeral For A Friend, Attack! Attack!, Save Your Breath, Tonight Is Goodbye - the list is endless, bands I couldn’t imagine my teens/early twenties without, yet I wouldn’t have known them if I hadn’t been at the shows early enough to see them.

Over the past decade, some years have averaged out at about 45 shows per year, we’d fit 2 or 3 partial tours in there (mostly Kids In Glass Houses, how do you think I managed 59 of their shows in less than 7 years?) and somehow I still managed to pass my GCSE’s even though I spent the most of May touring the country for KIGH. Touring and followings bands felt comforting, like a place where I really belonged, and I know that feeling rings true for so many others out there, I was making friends in every city I visited, seeing the same faces and planning shows with them for other bands too. Each band has a community, a fanbase, a family, but live music in general has the same thing, I can go to a show of one band in Manchester, but know I’ll see familiar faces for another band, at another show in London.

For those who have yet to go to their first show, I urge you to do it as soon as possible, there’s nothing quite like the feeling of standing in a room, arena, stadium with tens, hundreds, thousands of people who are all there for the same reason, all singing along and losing themselves in the music. I’m getting goosebumps just thinking about it.

This past weekend my mum and I took a road trip to London for Gunnersville Festival, we were both shattered, wondering why the heck we were travelling all that way when a large part of us really didn’t want to go anymore (no matter how excited we’d been when we first booked the tickets), but standing in that big top tent with a few thousand other people, I cried and realised how important it was to be there, amongst all these other people that loved live music just as much as me. The prospect of missing my favourite band live (after cancelled busses, Uber’s, and the general shit show of travelling) filled me with such anxiety at 3:10pm, that I just wanted to go home and cry because I was so sure there was no way I was gonna make it to Gunnersbury Park for 3:50pm. As it worked out, I walked up to the tent just as their intro music came on and all the negativity and stress I’d been feeling just buggered off, nothing else mattered because I was there, watching my favourite people in the world standing on stage and playing to such a large crowd.

That night mum dragged us up front for You Me At Six, eleven and a half years after I’d seen them play a support show at Manchester Academy 3 (a venue capacity of about 300), they were playing their biggest headline show to date. That really knocked sideways, they’d been about 17/18 when I first saw them, and now they were fully grown adults, performing to this enormous crowd and I felt so proud of them, it was utterly unreal. Being in the heart of the crowd made me feel the happiest I’ve felt in weeks, I’ve hit some low points since graduating but I forgot about everything just for that day, and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

We spent the drive down there reminiscing on past shows, hilarious experiences with bands, memories that we’ll treasure for the rest of our days, because music given us both so much and we wouldn’t have much else without it.

Live music is far more than just seeing a band live, it’s an experience, an escape route, a few hours (or weeks if you’re touring) where you can forget about everything going on around you. It’s a reason to make new friends, to find new bands to love, to travel the world for, and in my case, it’s just strengthened my relationship with my mum, and that’s the most important thing live music have given me.

_______________________________________________________________________

Jacket - Topshop (Old) // Top - New Look // Skirt - Primark (Old) // Shoes - Vans // Sunglasses - Marks & Spencer // Bracelets - Thomas Sabo & ASOS

_______________________________________________________________________

What shows have you been to that really stand out to you? What bands do you still want to see? Have you got any social memories that you want to share? Leave me a comment or reach out to me on social media because I always love to chat music!

I’m off to get ready for The Maine’s Europe/UK tour this month!

S xo

Follow me: Bloglovin | Instagram | Twitter | Tumblr | Pinterest

PS. I shot these photos at Gunnersville Festival in September whilst Deaf Havana were playing Sinner, most content was scrapped because I was too busy singing along. Sorry not sorry.

#lifestyle #live music #personal #freelance writer #music writer #live music writer #gunnersville festival #freelance journalist #journalism #fashion #fashion blog #personal style #personal style blog #fashion blogger #style blogger

2 notes · View notes

delicatelyherdreams · 6 years

Text

Separation Anxiety

Paring: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Summary: When Natasha has to leave for a lengthy mission, you feel her absence deeply. Some might say you even have a little bit of separation anxiety.

Warnings: language; drinking; Tony’s a bit of an ass

Word Count: 2193

“Naatttt,” you whined hanging upside down on the couch with your legs against the backrest and your head dangling above the ground. “Pay attention to meeee.”

She didn’t even look up from the papers sitting on the table in front of her.

You frowned. “Natasha!”

Nothing.

A low growl emitted from your throat as you pulled yourself up onto the couch. You reached over to the arm rest and grabbed the pillow sitting on the cushion. You looked between your girlfriend and the cushion before making a calculation and chucking the pillow at her head.

Without glancing up, her hand shot up and caught the pillow. She sighed and turned to face you. “I’m working, Princessa,” she said in a pleading voice.

You pouted. “You were supposed to be off today. We were gonna go mini golfing!”

“I know, but this came up last minute and it’s really important.” Her smile turned sympathetic.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

She sighed. “It’s only two weeks, Princessa.”

Your eyes widened. “Two weeks?” you demanded, your voice growing in volume. “You mean you’re leaving me here with these people for two weeks.”

“I have to. It’s an important mission and I’m the only one who can do it.” She stood up and padded her way over to the couch. “But don’t worry. I’ll be back as soon as I can and when I’m home...” She sat down next to you and wrapped her arm around your waist, “You can have me all to yourself.”

You looked up at her with your puppy dog eyes. “Promise?”

She chuckled and leaned over, pressing a loving kiss to the side of your head. “I promise.”

You hummed and closed your eyes, leaning into her. “You’re the best, Nat.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but she was interrupted by a loud and boisterous voice.

“Well!” Tony exclaimed as he walked into the room. He smirked at you and Nat. “If it isn’t our two favorite lovebirds.”

“Well, if it isn’t the most annoying billionaire,” you said, exasperation filling your voice to the brim.

He grinned as he sat down at the table Natasha had just been at. “And how are you, our little toddler?”

Your eyes narrowed. “I’m not a toddler,” you corrected. “I’m twenty years old.”

“Todd-ler,” he said in a singsong voice.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Lay off, Stark,” she said coldly. “She’s an adult, she’s legal, it’s okay.”

“But she acts like a child, Nat,” he argued. “Honestly, she’s so clingy that, if I didn’t know any better, I would guess you’re her mother.”

You pouted at him. “I have my own mother and she’s not Natasha. Natasha is better.”

“I am, aren’t I?” she asked with a grin.

“You are,” you said pecking her on the cheek.

Tony gagged. “Ugh, you two are so sweet you’re going to make me sick.” He rolled his eyes. “Natasha, your flight leaves in T-minus-three hours.”

She shot him a dirty look but you had heard enough. Your head shot up and you stared at her. “You’re leaving when?”

Natasha sighed. “Three hours from now. I was going to tell you here soon but somebody had to spoil that.”

“Sor-ry!” He laughed nervously before exiting the room.

She rolled her eyes and turned to face you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, but I thought it’d be easier this way.”

You scoffed. “Yeah. It’s easier just to leave me with no warning?”

“Okay, maybe it wasn’t my brightest idea,” she admitted with a frown.

“No joke,” you mumbled as you buried your face in her side. “I can’t believe you’re leaving so soon.”

“But the sooner I leave, the sooner I’ll be back,” she said as a reminder.

You bit your lip. “Fine... Just don’t take too long.”

“I’ll try not to.”

———

The first week without her was absolute hell. You missed waking up next to her each morning to the feeling of her arms tightening around your waist. You missed her laugh and the way she would smile at you when you told a stupid joke. This was greatly reflected in your mood.

You began to sulk around, going through the daily tasks with such a melancholy attitude that even FRIDAY was starting to worry about you. Every day you were in a poor and sour mood, the only remedy being to have your beloved Natasha back in your arms.

Finally, half way into the second week, Tony had had enough of the sulking and suggested that everyone have a few drinks to loosen up.

“Come on,” he goaded. “Drinks are on me!”

It took a little bit of convincing, but eventually everyone agreed.

Tony broke into his liquor cabinet and began to serve out drinks. Soon, every Avenger had a glass of alcohol in their hands... Everyone except you, that is.

After all the heroes had a glass in hand filled with their preferred drink, they all slowly downed the liquor, falling under the influence.

Tony was the first to succumb, his eyes drooping and his words becoming slurred. He turned to look at you from his spot on the long couch. “Hey…” he started, a lazy smile on his face. “(y/n), why don’t you have a drink? Oh, right, you aren’t old enough to have adult drinks.”

You kept a straight face, your sobriety allowing you to try to keep a level head. “I’m almost twenty-one,” you reminded him with no emotion.

Tony snickered. “Twenty… You’re practically a baby!”

You clenched your fist. Why couldn’t he just leave you be about your age? It’s not like you could help being years younger than everybody else there.

His smile widened as if he had just gotten a brilliant idea. “Or maybe, not a baby, but like a toddler.”

You let your head tilt back as you bit your tongue. “It’s just the alcohol, (y/n),” you told yourself. “Just let it go.”

Tony’s head lolled to the side as he grinned. “You’re such a toddler, so young and tiny. What are you doing here with the big boys?”

“Lay off her, Tony,” Steve chided from across the room. “She’s plenty old enough.”

Tony groaned. “You’re sounding like Romanoff.” He shook his head and turned his attention back to you with a shit-eating smirk. “You’re so young. Don’t you have a bedtime?”

You were starting to get fed up with him. “Stop it, Stark,” you threatened.

Tony laughed, the alcohol reaching his head. “Oh chill out, Princessa.”

That was your breaking point. No one called you that but Natasha. You looked at the man, your eyes ablaze. “Don’t. Call me. Princessa,” you hissed in a low and threatening voice that would make even the bravest man shake in his boots.

Steve looked at you warily. “(y/n)...”

Your head snapped up and you glared at him. “No! you snapped.

He jumped at your sudden outburst.

So did most everybody in the room.

Your glare didn’t lessen. “You all just keep picking on me, and I’m done. Just because I’m younger than all of you does not mean you can treat me like a child! I am a goddamn adult for god’s sake, and I ought to be treated like one!” You rose to your feet and shot the Avengers a dirty look. “But whatever. You all are going to treat me like a child anyways, and it doesn’t matter what I do. Nat is the only one who will treat me like I am...” You shook your head. “Thanks for trying, but I’m just going to my room. Call me when Natasha gets back.”

And with that, you turned your back on them and left the little soiree.

You found yourself in yours and Nat’s bedroom suite moments later seated on the bed, your phone in hand with Natasha’s contact pulled up and calling her.

The phone rang on and on until she finally picked up on the last tone.

Nat’s crackly voice answered on the other end of the line. “Princessa?” she called, her voice thick with strain.

You sighed in relief at hearing her voice. “Nat...” you said, a small smile crossing your lips.

“What is it, (y/n)?” she asked before grunting immediately after.

You bit your lip. “I don’t know. I just needed to hear your voice. I miss you.”

There was a scream in the back round and Natasha mused, “Aw, baby I miss you too, but now is not really a good time. Can I call you back a little later? I’ve got to finish with this guy.” Queue another panicked scream.

You chuckled. “Sure.”

True to her word your phone was ringing several minutes later. Her face, which was contorted into a silly expression, was flashing on the screen.

“What’s going on, Princessa?” she asked after you picked up.

You laid back onto the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. “I miss you, Nat. And Tony’s mocking me again and making me feel bad.”

She hummed on the phone. Even without seeing her you could tell she was frowning. “He’s just being an ass. Do I need to smack some sense into him when I get back?”

“Yes,” you mumbled as you turned onto your side. “When are you coming home?”

“Hopefully tomorrow, Princessa. We've finished a little earlier than expected and are on our way back to base to be shipped out tomorrow morning,” she said. “I can’t wait to see your beautiful face again.”

You smiled softly. “I can’t wait to see you too...”

“I’ll tell you what,” she started, a smile present in her voice. “When I get home tomorrow, we can just stay in. We’ll order pizza from that place you like and spend all day in bed watching movies. Sound like a plan?”

You could just imagine it. All bundled up in your favorite pajamas with your favorite girl at your side... It sounded like paradise. “Yeah,” you finally said. “Just don’t keep me waiting.”

She breathed a laugh. “I’ll try not too. You can yell at my pilot to get us off the ground here.”

“Oh don’t tempt me, Nat,” you said, warning heavy in your voice. “I might actually ask you to put me on speaker so I can scream at him.”

“I’m sure you would,” she responded.

Your lips were tugged up by a small smile. “Nat?”

“Yes, Princessa?”

“I’m going to go to bed now, but would you stay on the line? You know, just to talk to me while I fall asleep?”

She breathed a sigh. “Of course.”

And she did. You put the phone on speaker and set it down on the pillow next to yours as you got comfortable. You continued to lie down on your side as you stared at it’s dark screen. “Tell me a story?” you requested in a childlike voice.

She chuckled. “Which one?”

“Any one will do.”

You could imagine her pondering your request. “Hmm. Once upon a time, there was a girl who lived in a house with her wicked stepmother and evil stepsisters.”

You cracked a smile. “Is this Cinderella?”

“Yes. You wanted a story so you’ve got one. Now shut up.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Fine.”

She chuckled in return. “Now this girl, Cinderella, was very beautiful and...”

———

The next twenty-four hours were quite possibly the slowest ones you had ever experienced. The wait for Natasha was so mind numbing that you swear your brain was leaking out your ears.

But finally, that night, after the sun had set, the elevator dinged signalling an arrival. The doors slid open, revealing a certain redhead.

You practically threw yourself at her when you saw her. “Natashaaaaa!” you wailed as you wrapped your arms around her torso in a tight hug. “Don’t ever leave me like that again, you here! I can’t do it again! Everyone here is mean without you and I miss you too much!”

She chuckled as you rested your head on her chest. “Aw, did you have a little bit of separation anxiety?”

You nodded, your lips pulled downwards in a pout. “Don’t leave me again.”

She bowed her head down to press a kiss to your head. “I won’t.”

———

Bonus

A few days later you sat in the lounge, a book propped open in your hand while your eyes scanned the page. It was a nice and calm evening of reading, but it was interrupted by a loud and sickening thwack of a human hitting another human followed by an unmanly scream of a Tony Stark.

“Hey!” Tony shouted. “What the hell was that for?”

Natasha’s voice followed his saying, “That’s for picking on my girlfriend. Now, leave her be.”

You couldn’t contain your smug grin as she sauntered into the room seconds later.

She took one look at your face before breaking into a smile of her own. “What? I told you I’d smack him for you.”

“Oh I love you,” you said scooting over to make room for her on the couch.

She sat down next to you and pressed a careful kiss to your lips. “I love you too, (y/n).”

Permanent Taglist: @dont-speak-just-read @becauseismellgood @impalaimages@breezy1415 @lou-la-lou @aestheticapricity @a-book-pressed-rose @watchoutforfrostbite @dragonborn791924

Requested by: Anonymous

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natalia romanova #natalia romanoff #oneshot #clingy #reader #x reader #marvel #avengers #mcu #avengers x reader #cute #princessa

276 notes · View notes

imagination-is-key-in-my-world · 6 years

Text

Beaten To It

Summary: You were the victim of bullying that had been instigated by Liz Allen. Living across from Peter didn’t mean that he noticed you, even though you had a massive crush on him. One day when the bullying all got too much, you met a stranger who would save you from yourself…

Warning: Bullying (could be uncomfortable to read) and some mild swearing.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader.

Word Count: 3,879.

Peter Parker had lived with a secret for a long time. Using the Stark Internship as an excuse to leave dinner, school and social occasions early. That was if he turned up in the first place.

You’d known Peter for a very long time. You lived next to him in the apartment building. But that didn’t mean that he spoke to you. He wasn’t a bad kid, or ignorant for that fact. You were simply cursed. Boys just never noticed you. Whether that be in school or outside, or right under their perfect noses as you peacefully slept against the wall to his bedroom.

Let’s just say you were known in school by pretty much everybody. Although you hated to admit that it wasn’t for the reasons that you would have liked. You were the brunt of the popular kids jokes. They would use you in multiple ways to let off some built up rage inside of them.

It often started with making fun of your looks. Calling you all the names under the sun. To taking it up a notch where they often took it far, but not far enough that would result in teachers suspecting anything. They had their ‘most loved’ reputations to think about. Especially if they wanted to land their picture under a complimentary status in the yearbook.

You’d often have to sit in the classroom hiding your true feelings of depression as yet another threatening note was passed to you. Problem was you knew exactly who the culprit was which didn’t help. Liz Allen, also known as Peter Parker’s biggest crush.

The one boy who couldn’t see her for who she truly was. A glorified bully. It’s not like she acted out in front of him. She always hid that narcissistic side from him.

The night before, he invited her back to the apartment, you assumed for a study date. She was completely fake to you when you bumped into the pair of them as you were walking to your apartment. However, her switch flipped entirely when Peter’s front door shut, separating the pair of them.

Let’s just say, you’d wished Peter was there to see his ‘girlfriend’s’ next actions. Immediately she taunted you with words. Then when that wasn’t enough she plucked your bag from your shoulder and dumped the contents on the floor.

It could have been worse, god it has been way worse than that. You knew as you had experienced violence from her before hand. Both verbal and physical. It actually surprised you that her bag incident was as far as she had taken it that night.

“Earth to Y/N?” Your best friend Michelle nudged you as you hadn’t moved from your locker, shaking you from your thoughts.

You’d been freaking out since your encounter with Liz yesterday in the hallway. The last thing she mentioned before she trudged down your floor wasn’t pleasant. “Just you wait.”

It wasn’t exactly a deadly threat, or a massive threat when you’d thought about it. But the more you did think about it, the more it kept you awake. Hence the coffee cup in your hand which so happened to be your third of the day and first period hadn’t even started yet.

“Sorry MJ. I’m a little unfocused today.” You shook the empty paper cup, gesturing it to your friend. “I could use another one of these. How about you?”

She scoffed. You were never able to hide much from her. Ever since you became friends, you could read the other like a book. “Y/N you don’t need another coffee. Caffeine is a gateway drug, and I think you’ve already had enough for the day.” Michelle caught the twitch in your eye then snatched the cup from your grasp and threw it into the appropriate recycling bin. “Are you going to tell me what is going on with you?”

You broke from her intimidating stare. Soon enough she would have to learn that she couldn’t do that with every secret you were hiding. You devoured everything. From Liz’s weird behaviour in front of Peter. Although, this didn’t surprise Michelle. She knew that Peter adored her.

Besides yourself, Michelle knew quite a lot about the boy you crushed on hard. She’d argue that she was not obsessed with him, that she was just very observant. You’d eventually lead up to the threat that you had received the night before..

Within seconds, your friend’s arm was adhesively attached around your shoulders. As if it was a defensive barrier that would protect you from Liz and her minions. You couldn’t help but smile at her attempt to shield you. Both of you knew that Liz hated Michelle just as much as she did you.

Her arm remained around your back as she guided you towards her locker. That was when you saw Ned talking with the owner of the most beautiful pair of eyes that you’d ever seen. The one and only Peter Parker.

Unsure whether he had noticed you or not. You still couldn’t fight the blush that rose to your cheeks. Peter was the cutest boy in this damn school. It definitely helped that he was possibly the nicest guy too. Whether that was to you personally or in general. Focussing more on the latter.

A lucky convenience for you, Michelle’s locker was opposite Peter’s which often meant that you’d often catch his eye once or twice. Pretty hard not to when you stood directly in his eye line. Michelle knew all about your crush, hence why she always took longer than necessary to gather her belongings.

Something felt different today. Which was more than likely due to the anxiety you felt of what was to come. Avoiding any eye contact, you leaned against the locker and stared into space rather than those comforting eyes. Not being able to hide how terrified and drained you felt any longer.

Suddenly, the lockers in front of your eyes appeared to be rotating rather than sitting still. “Michelle, I do-” The room was spinning which only meant one thing. Before you could finish, your body began to fall.

You waited to feel the impact of the floor that would knock you unconscious. Only that never happened, your body didn’t come into contact with the cold and dirty floor. Your body collapsed into a steady pair of arms cradling you.

Logically, you believed that the arms belonged to Michelle. She was the closest person to you. It only made sense that she could have been the one to get to you that fast.

But once your vision focused slightly, the hero wasn’t female. Those eyes that locked onto yours weren’t as familiar as Michelle’s. They were the beautiful pair that you had always wanted to gaze into. For them to lock onto yours the way that they were. Only in a different circumstance.

“Um are you okay?” Peters hoarse voice pushed through the piercing ringing that filled your ears from almost passing out. When you didn’t answer, he pushed you back onto your feet and draped his arm under your shoulders to hold you up. “I think I’d better get you to the nurse.” He said to both you and Michelle, who’s scared expression was the last thing you saw as he practically dragged you from the hallway.

“Thanks Peter.” You mumble, your own words hurt your head.

“You actually know who I am?” He questioned, causing your feet to stop corroborating. Freezing on the spot. “What? Is there something wrong?” Fear crossed his mind as you refused to walk, “I can carry you if your legs are hurting too much?” If he weren’t just trying to be nice, you would have surrendered to the butterflies in your stomach and practically jump into his arms.

“How can I not know who you are? You live right next to me.” You crossed your arms across your chest. “Plus you’re one of the smartest kids in the school. You have a bit of a reputation.”

He sort of laugh snorted at your testimony. “Is that so?” You nodded, “Can I ask you something?” Again you nodded, relishing in getting to talk to your crush. All it took was a slight fainting spell. “What happened? People don’t just faint.”

A small sigh left your lips. Do you tell him? What was the right thing to say? Your girlfriend is a psychopath? First you cleared you throat. “I haven’t been sleeping. I’m getting bullied okay?”

He was left stunned and so were you. Michelle was the only one you told this to. It wasn’t as if he could do anything to make it stop. It’s not like he is some superhero or something. He was just Peter Parker, the boy you were crushing on.

He didn’t say anything, he didn’t know what to say. What do you say when you hear something like that? Taking his silence as a queue, you turned and left him behind. He didn’t follow or protest.

It was the end of the day and you hadn’t seen or spoken to Peter since you stormed off to the nurse after telling him you were the victim of bullying. He didn’t know who it was. You’d thought it would be best to leave that but out. It would probably make things worse if you’d tried to confess.

Michelle had left a little early to go to the dentist. Leaving you behind to walk home alone. And just like that, as if you were in movie, there she was. Liz and her army were waiting for you by the gate. You’d tried to hide away as long as you could. Hoping they would have thought that you’d left already. No such luck.

“Well what do we have here?” All of her followers giggled as if she was the funniest person on the planet. “Oh yeah, nobody important. It’s just our little toy girls.”

Instantly you were surrounded. Putting you in the centre of a circle with Liz, trapped. If you yelled, it would only encourage them. They loved it when they knew you were in pain.

Staying silent you received your kicking. Quite literally. Liz had slapped you so hard that you had fallen onto the concrete. Still lacking sleep, you couldn’t fight back even if you wanted to. So you just laid there, curled in a ball. Feeling more than one pair of feet make impact on your small frame.

No one came to your rescue. You just laid there until everything stopped. Crying as each blow hurt like a bitch. You struggled to pick yourself up from the floor once they had all left. It wasn’t as if there weren’t still other students walking passed you, cause there were. They just didn’t care. You didn’t matter to them. If they were given the opportunity, they may have joined in.

You wiped the tears from your face as you grabbed the strap of your bag. Wincing as it rested on your bruised shoulder.

Guess I’m still not good enough. Nothing matters, I don’t matter. Your own thoughts filled your mind as you quietly cried during your long walk home. I just want it all to go away. I want all the pain to go away.

What if you told Peter it was Liz, would he have stopped it? Would he have stayed behind a little longer to make sure that you would be okay? It was stupid to think that he would have been able to do anything. Today was the first time that he had said anything other than an unregistered ‘hi’ in the halls in the building as he passed.

Why would he risk himself getting involved in shit that didn’t concern him for a nobody like you.

It hadn’t occurred to you that you hadn’t taken a left turn a few blocks back. Resulting in putting you completely off route, thanks to the distraction of pain in your head and on your body. “Fuck!” You cursed yourself under your breath.

Turning around sharply, you heard a loud cry from above you. “Watch out!” You’d turned around too fast and stepped right into the line of traffic. Like a deer in headlights, you froze. That was the second impact that never came that day. You were back in the arms of someone unexpected, shooting up into the air.

Spider-Man had witnessed the near deadly accident from on top of a building next to the scene. Instantly dropping to the ground to retrieve you. Landing safely on top of the building where he had been observing previously.

Examining the figure, you’d identified the red and blue spandex model straight away. That and the fact that you had just defied the laws of gravity. Focusing on the black spider on the suit. You avoided his mask, finding the eyes to be a little too creepy. Especially when they squinted.

“Um are you okay?” There was something familiar about his voice, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

Your small frame sat on top of the building. Your thoughts all over the place. You’d almost passed out, you’d successfully talked to your crush who saved you from a concussion, you’d been beaten up, and almost died. Possibly.

Tucking your knees into your chest, resting your head on top of them. Spider-Man mirrored you, sitting opposite watching your every move. He was clearly worried about you and your frame of mind at this point. “I don’t think so.”

There was something about him that made you feel slightly at ease. It didn’t feel like you were confessing to a legend that lived and protected Queens.

Even in the late afternoon lighting, the masked hero could make out all of the cuts across your face. One of the abilities he had, helped him sense danger. There was something dark about you, something dark was rooted inside. He instantly recognised the struggle in your eyes. The struggle to continue when you so badly wanted to give up.

His eyes travelled down to your arms, observing the bruises that covered them. He couldn’t help but think that even though he had saved you from the car, he hadn’t saved you from all of your other suffering.

“Who did that to you?” Again there was some familiarity there. “The bruises.” His disturbing mask nodded to your arms and face. The only marks that he could see. But you both knew that there were way more. The worst of the injuries were just lucky enough to be covered.

“Some girl at school.” You sighed, more tears filled your eyes. You weren’t aware that you had been crying after the car incident. “It doesn’t matter. It seems to be a common occurrence lately.”

You started to roll the sleeves of your jumper down your arms. Trying to at least conceal some of the marks on your body. “Of course it matters. You’re being attacked at school!”

“Not the first time. I’ll live, I always do.” You weren’t looking at him, you didn’t really want to. Staring at him in his costume, made all of this seem fake. You wished this was real, that you had finally told someone about all of this. But it was fucking Spider-Man, he couldn’t do anything about a girl making your life miserable in school.

His masked hands gripped onto yours. “You need to tell someone.”

“What I need is to go home and hide in my room before my parents come home. They’ll only worry if they see me like this.” You observed your current location. It wasn’t as if you could leave at your own free will. “Would you mind?” You gestured over the building.

At first he was resistant, he didn’t want you to leave. Not like this, not when he didn’t know what you were going to do next. You were in a bad way, and he feared you may try to ease the pain with something other than prescription pain killers.

Although he could see that you were hurting, he knew better than to argue. Spider-Man’s arms were soon wrapped around your waist as he leapt from the edge with you held close to him. Well you can now tick jumping from a building from your bucket list. That and meeting Spider-Man.

“Can I take you home?” You raised an eyebrow once your feet rested safely on the sidewalk. “I need to make sure you get home safe.” He shrugged his shoulders, and through his mask you could have sworn that you heard a little giggle. “What? I’m a good guy and I’ll only worry about you all night. You wouldn’t want me distracted on the job now would you?”

“You’d be the first person to worry about me.” The floor suddenly becoming more interesting than the person who saved your life. You couldn’t help but smile when your brain replayed the words in your head. “I guess Queens needs you fully focused to protect us all and not just worry about little ol’ damaged me.”

“Well in that case.” He wrapped you in his arms and lifted you off of the floor for the second time that night.

After washing up most of the blood on your body, you waltzed into the kitchen to find a handwritten note from your mum accompanied by a 20 dollar bill.

Looks like it’s a meal for one, or just an extra 20 to spend on more foundation to cover up the blotchy purple mess that had become your face. You didn’t feel like eating, your stomach pulsing from the kicking it received earlier. So you found refuge in the only place that you felt safe.

Plucking the fabric at the end of your blanket, you stepped through your bedroom window onto the fire escape. This wasn’t unusual for you. After a rough day, you’d often find yourself out there tucked under a blanket. The busy city of Queens was fascinating to watch at night. Everything was more beautiful in the dark. If only you held the same ideals of the city.

“With your dizzy spells, I don’t think you should be out here.” Peter’s voice interrupted you as he poked his head through his window. Soon he was outside, nestling down to form a mirror of you on his own fire escape directly opposite. “Sorry I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You didn’t. I’m just a little jumpy today.” Your busted lip didn’t feel so good when you talked. It was slowly trying its hardest to heal.

Even with the dark scenery, Peter noticed it all. From the busted lip, to the bumps that covered your forehead. The light from your room lit up every little imperfection. His voice turned softer as he knew it would be best to proceed with caution at this point. “Who did this to you Y/N?”

“You know who I am?” You played the card he played this morning. Preciously wanting the attention to not be on you and your current state. He gave a half hearted laugh, before falling silent when he realised what he did. “It doesn’t matter who did it. It’ll only happen again tomorrow if I snitch.”

“This is serious! You have to tell someone! You’re being attacked at school!” He yelled across to you. There it was again, that familiarity. He sighed, rubbing at his face with his hands. “If you’re not going to do or say anything, then please just let me come and check on you. Some of those cuts could get infected.”

For some reason you found yourself agreeing. Today was getting weirder by the second. No matter how many times you tried to overlook it, there was something niggling at you about both Spider-Man and Peter.

Slowly you edged inside your room. Opening the front door to Peter who was gripping a green first aid kit. He frowned immediately when he saw how bad you looked up close. “You know I have one of those.” You nodded towards the kit that he had hooked onto his person. “You didn’t have to waste your own.”

Dismissing your comment he got started by patching you up as best he could. Taking on the worst injuries first, your stomach and back. Not once did you think that the first time that you were going to be exposed to Peter would be for him to rub some antiseptic cream on some torn skin.

As un-idealistic as it was for this to be occurring.you couldn’t help but feel disappointed when his contact stopped. Wait he stopped, why did he stop?

As you turned around, you clocked Peter holding his head in his hands. Currently unaware that you had noticed his stature. He could no longer look at you, not like this. He couldn’t help but feel responsible for what had happened. You said you were being bullied and yet he let you move away from him. He let this happen, this was practically his fault.

“Peter?” You whispered as you leaned over to him, assessing his own situation. “Peter what’s wrong?”

When his head lifted, you wished he hadn’t. His eyes were filled with tears and remorse. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have left you all alone.” The tears were threatening to pool over as the guilt overcame him.

“Hey! You weren’t to know.” Ever so slowly, you reached for him. Holding your hands close to his cheeks to keep his head steady as he tried to turn away. “It’s not your job to save people.”

“But it is. I am meant to look out for the little people.” That was when it clicked in your head. All those repeated phrases. Spider-Man’s voice and how it was so similar to one that you’d heard before.

Peter’s eyes widened as he couldn’t believe that he had just potentially exposed his biggest secret. You didn’t freak out, or even over react when you had figured it all out. You remained as calm as you had been countless times before, while you observed the chaos below on your fire escape. “But you did save me Peter. You saved me tonight from something far worse than Liz Allen.”

“Liz did that to you?” He reached towards the cut in your eyebrow that was still leaking some blood. The cold skin rested quite contently against your burning features. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I should have been there to protect you.”

You didn’t know why you were leaning in closer to him, but you also knew that you had to. You couldn’t stand seeing Peter this torn up over something that he couldn’t control. Closing the distance between him and yourself, you leaned in so that your forehead was resting on his. His eyes glued to yours like magnets. “It’s not your fault Parker.”

The only time his eyes broke away from yours was when they dropped to look at your lips. Practically begging you to let him kiss them. Unknown to you, this was the closest Peter had ever gotten with a girl. This would be his first kiss, he wanted it to be perfect.

His hand slipped from your cheek to the back of your head. Brushing away strands of hair that had fallen to you cheek when you placed your forehead against his. Delicately, Peter guided his lips onto yours.

You’d dreamt of kissing Peter for a long as you could imagine. But it was nothing compared to the real life experience that was enfolding before your very eyes. It was both bittersweet and painful at the same time. You had so desperately wanted to kiss Peter over the years that you couldn’t quite believe it was happening and that he would be the one instigating it. The only thing stopping you from kissing him all night, was the busted lip that stung every time his lips fell onto yours.

240 notes · View notes

1nkweaver · 6 years

Text

Playlist Breakdown: Pick

Obviously gotta keep backstory stuff vague but I’ve rearranged the playlist into chronological themes and it’s time to BREAK IT DOWN

The Unkillable Pickle

Obviously the name of the playlist, it’s his full title, you will address him as such.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2KT2p2E4cPbHBBlI02OoGG

(here is the playlist to listen along)

And now for the breakdown:

Short Change Hero- The Heavy

I always try to kick off my playlists with “who IS this person if you broke them down into one song” but that is not what this song is. This is a song to prepare the listener for Pick’s story, and the slow intro of it really brings that in. In chronology this is actually Pick just before meeting the party, recounting the events that got him to this place (we’ll get back to that later) the crunch of shoefalls and distant thunder are also big thematic queues into the rest of the playlist.

First and foremost, from Pick’s perspective, this is not the story of a hero, and he wants you to know that up front.

The Sound of Silence- Disturbed

What a great cover. Pick doesn’t remember his childhood super well, so his first memories are of the silence, and the darkness, and the things he saw in that time. He found faith and lost it all at once, and it seemed like an eternity in that place, just struggling to pick out anything of worth in there. This song kicks off

ACT 1 of Pick’s story, which I can’t say the title of because it’s spoilery.

A Skeleton of Something More- Sleeping At Last

People praying for a better day to come, waiting for that night, that night when everything is going to change. Get out of this place, go on to something else. The shred of hope that is wilting, a skeleton of something more.

Whatever It Takes- Imagine Dragons

Pick is not one to give up that easily, he will always say his stubborn tenacity is his best quality and it hasn’t let him down yet. Beat him, break him, want him to die so, so badly. But he’s not going to stop, he’s gunna end this, and he’ll outlast and do whatever he needs to to accomplish that.

Best of You- Foo Fighters

Pick’s refusal to give in was cute at first but now it’s getting annoying. They double down on him and he doubles down right back, we’re fighting now, and Pick will be fighting for a long, long time after this. Thank goodness he’s good at it.

Pressure- Muse

Pick learns that bloody, beaten, surrounded in the corner is where he is at his strongest. He lives under pressure, and it almost makes him laugh. If things were going too easy it wouldn’t be fun, so bring it on.

The Pretender- Foo Fighters

Pick is looking up from the pits at him, and there’s practically electricity burning between those stares. Pick has finalized his plans of revenge against him.

Believer- Imagine Dragons

Enter fucking Anders. The man that’s going to change everything for the better. That night that they’ve been waiting for has a date now, and it’s fast approaching. Pick was stewing in his anger and knew nothing else but the fight, but now, Anders has made him a believer.

Uprising- Muse

That night has come, and it’s time to put all the chips down on a plan. It works, mostly. This marks the end of ACT 1, with a thrilling tale that can only really be translated as “fuck you!”

Starlight- Muse

Muse takes us out of ACT 1 and continues with us right on into ACT 2, and this one I can definitely share the name of: Act 2: Anders. This series of songs talks about their relationship. But first we have to put a lot of distance between us and Act 1 to start this story off proper, and that’s just what this song does, it takes us far far away by the light of the stars.

We tie in some of the previous songs talking about lights in the darkness, and waiting for “that night”. We have finally gone out of the darkness and into the light of day.

My Best Friend- Weezer

Honestly, pretty self explanatory, Anders is everything.

Make a Little Money- Royal Deluxe

Now that we’re out and traveling around, we gotta work! Ander’s shows Pick the ropes of life and they do pretty good as a team, enjoying coin and each others company and going where the wind (and work) takes them.

I’ll Keep You Safe- Sagun

This song in its chill repetitiveness acts as a sort of time skip transitional phase in Act 2, where the development of Anders and Picks relationship kind of stabilizes and goes on for a while without much change. However, the end of the transition makes a play on that title “I’ll keep you safe” it went from a promise made in the beginning to a promise upheld in the end, but now things are different.

Very different.

Alive- Pearl Jam

Pick really shouldn’t be, and yet I guess he is, so now his title is actually really really true, this little goblin is damn near unkillable. The gift of life is a damn hard gift to give sometimes.

But where the fuck is Anders.

Lonely- Idealism

This instrumental is the only one present in Pick’s playlist, to really sink in that truly for the first time in his life EVER, he is alone, and sometimes you just have to sit and deal with that for a while.

Wish You Were Here- Lee Fields & The Expressions

Not that hard to admit really, Pick wants to know where the hell Anders is, and what the hell this letter he left means, he’s very confused and just wants his friend back.

Zombie- The Cranberries

Partially foreshadowing, but mostly just bad memories creeping back in. Without Anders bad dreams are coming back and Pick is not doing well, and he really just wants the pain to go away.

Blood In The Cut- K.Flay

Yeah, Pick is really really not okay, and he’s coping with it in some unhealthy ways that will lead to his particular quirks he has developed later on in life. It’s been so long and he’s fought so much that he doesn’t really know what pain feels like anymore, at least not physical. He tries to get the pain out, so that he can just feel that instead of the emotional pain inside. But when the blood runs, he learns something new about himself.

Stronger- Kanye West

Well holy fucking shit guess we’re a fucking bloodhunter huh- Anders letter makes a bit more sense now, but most importantly Pick has found a way to weaponize his pain, and he’s got a hell of a lot of it to use. He’s ready to take things on.

Radioactive- Imagine Dragons

Pick is starting to experiment with his powers, he’s learning with what Anders left him to pick up the pieces and become the adventurer he’s going to need to be, basically this is his training montage.

Blood On My Name- The Brothers Bright

Training is complete and we’ve basically made our way to level 3 babey!!! Pick has learned as much as he can and now he’s got his two goals in mind- find him, and find HIM. But first he needs to find Baldur’s Gate and make some friends.

End of Act 2

Walk- Foo Fighters

We’ve come full circle to the very first song in short change hero. The footsteps in that song becomes Walk here by the Foo Fighters, where Pick has put all of his past experiences behind him and is ready to start over here at the start of the third and final act so far.

Act 3 Ironically or not is also called Walk

Starting over is hard but Pick has had the time to figure out his feelings and find himself a little, and we end right as he crests the hill that gives him the first view of Baldur’s Gate. He fastens his gloves and gets moving again.

If You Only Knew- Shinedown & The Crow & The Butterfly- Shinedown

Shinedown comes in with a pair of songs as Pick makes his way to the city to remind him of the person that got him where he needs to go. He thinks about Anders, off in some faraway place, and hopes that he’s proud of Pick for what he’s been able to accomplish on his own. But he also knows that he’s gotten as far as he can on his own and needs some help.

Thunderstruck- AC/DC

ENTER THE PARTY

Pick explodes onto the scene into a group of people that he has no idea WHAT to think about, but you know what? They’re kinda weird and definitely ready to make waves like him, so he’s happy, and he thinks he’s found the group that he needs.

Theres some tension with a few people, and that electricity is back, but Pick’s ready this time.

Also, bringing back the thunderstorms all the way from short change hero again! Boom!! How’s that for some musical foreshadowing bitches?

It only helps that Pick’s blood rites are electricity, doesn’t it?

Bonus tracks

Pick’s story has pretty much ended here with Thunderstruck, as he now has to learn more about this party and figure out what he wants to do, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t some bonus songs for you all!

State of Mine- Stoj Snak

A hope for the future, that these people pick has found can be not only what he thinks he needs to accomplish his goal, but what he really needs and doesn’t even know he needs yet- a real family.

Power- Kanye West

Pick is starting to see the bigger world for what it was, and the one man on Pick’s list is starting to become multiple. Theres something definitely wrong with the world and Pick’s particular viewpoint lets him see it, and he doesn’t like it.

Maker of My Sorrow- Eliza Rickman

Pick’s main goal is to the party for now, and then for Anders, that’s what he feel the overall importance is, but he hasn’t forgotten the promise he made all the way back in The Pretender: someone is going to get super murdered and Pick ain’t dying until that happens.

So that’s the breakdown of The Unkillable Pickle! I hope you like the music and I’ll try to update this post as the story advances :VVV thanks for listening

#The Unkillable Pickle #playlist breakdown #dnd #pick #pickle

2 notes · View notes

sophcaro · 7 years

Text

Destiny | WMatsui - Chapter 32

2.55 PM.

Jurina wore a sleeveless yellow cardigan over a white long-sleeved blouse, a red bow around her neck, and a short, red and white pleated plaid skirt. She slowly walked in from the right side of the main stage, her feet only pausing once she found herself at the center of the stage. With her back turned to the audience, Jurina ignored the screams of the fans who had enthusiastically begun to call her name upon her arrival; she gazed instead at the majestic, high staircase looming in front of her.

The camera zoomed in on her intense, focused expression; Jurina taking a deep breath at the daunting task awaiting her, before beginning her ascension of the stairs decidedly. The idol’s determination never once wavered as she progressed and climbed the stairs one by one, the whole time scrupulously keeping her eyes fixed on the top. It was her ultimate goal, and under no circumstances would she let anything or anyone prevent her from reaching it.

Only a couple of stairs were left now and Jurina ignored the growing pain in her legs, acutely conscious that she could not afford to give up right now that she was so close to her objective. With renewed determination, she continued her ascension valiantly, until her feet paused abruptly on the penultimate stair. Stupefied, she saw a silhouette emerging from the shadows at the top of the staircase.

Jurina’s mouth dropped open, watching with unconcealed admiration the twenty-nine-year-old girl, her brown hair tied back in a ponytail and dressed in an elegant long black dress, slowly approaching the edge of the staircase. As her attention fell upon the younger girl below her, a gentle smile plastered the older girl’s features. This unexpected arrival had been observed and received by the audience with exclamations and gasps of surprise, yet neither of the two girls paid attention to any of it, seemingly wrapped up in their own little world as their gazes silently lingered.

“Acchan,” Jurina murmured in awe.

Atsuko Maeda raised her arm and extended her hand in invitation. Jurina forced her legs to move and climbed the last stairs separating her from the former and legendary first ace of AKB48. As they were finally standing on the same level, Jurina looked back and glanced down nostalgically to the path she had taken, before setting her eyes on the older girl before her and placing her fingers inside Acchan’s outstretched hand.

“Congratulations, Jurina,” Atsuko said solemnly. “You made it to the top.”

As soon as those significant words escaped Acchan’s lips, the music of Oogoe Diamond began to resonate, filling the packed stadium with its distinctive upbeat melody. Both girls immediately dropped the rehearsed little act to exchange a casual smile, eager and alive with delight, their hands still linked when they turned their attention towards the attentive audience.

Hashiridasu basu oikakete Chasing after the bus as it started to leave

Boku wa kimi ni I wanted

Tsutaetakatta To tell you

Kokoro no moyamoya ga kiete The fog has lifted from my heart

Taisetsu na mono ga mietan da And I’ve seen what’s important to me

The lyrics of the song left their lips as they began to descend the staircase together, this duet marking the opening of Jurina Matsui’s 2020 graduation concert.

The last notes of the 2009 AKB48’s hit song faded in the air, and the two aces disappeared along with it from the main stage. The audience of the Nagoya Dome directed its attention in curiosity towards the message written in large, black letters that appeared on the main white screen. The message was accompanied by the sound of a plane taking off echoing loudly through the speakers of the Japanese stadium.

Twelve years ago, a young girl started her journey towards her destiny.

The message remained on the screen for a few, long seconds, enabling each fan to grasp the deep meaning of the words, until disappearing gradually from the screen as the two majestic doors of the main stage slid open. A group of fifteen girls could be seen aligned behind the door, but it was only when the lights and cameras fell upon them, that the audience was at last able to discover their identity.

The reaction was instantaneous: it was impossible for the fans not to manifest their great surprise, mingled with evident joy and pleasure. Despite being very familiar with every one of those faces, most of those girls had retired from the idol industry, and as such not participated in a SKE concert since countless years.

Each girl wore a white short-sleeved blouse with a panel down the middle decorated with braid, completed with a sailor's collar. Their short pleated plaid skirt was several shades of brown; some of the girls had a short tie around the collar, whilst others had a bow tie. Finally, black knee-high stockings and simple black shoes finished the traditional costume. As the first notes of Tsuyokimono yo played in the air and the girls began singing, the audience, whilst still having a hard time believing their eyes, was becoming progressively conscious that they were extremely privileged. They were witnessing a scene they had not seen in almost a decade.

The entire first generation of the Team S: Rena Matsui, Kumi Kagami, Oya Masana, Yuka Nakanishi, Aki Deguchi and all the other girls who had shot this low budget videoclip in the small aircraft hangar of Nagoya were all present, exceptionally reunited on stage on this very special occasion.

Tsuyokimono yo Be the strong person

Shin no yuusha Be the true hero

Tatakai oeta ato After you’ve finished fighting

Dare no tame For whom

Nagasu no Do you shed

Sono namida Those tears?

Emotion could be seen shimmering in a few girls’ eyes as their names were being called by a crowd of enthusiastic fans, whilst others tried not to be too destabilized by the general euphoria, attempting to remain professional and stay focused on the lyrics and the choreography of the song. As the first verse progressively came to an end, it didn’t escape the audience’s attention that all the girls were now standing at the front of the stage, except for one crucial member.

Jurina Matsui.

The doors began to progressively slide close, but not before the last missing first-generation member made her entrance, joining the other girls already dancing energetically on the emblematic, upbeat music. Jurina stopped her progression once she arrived at the front of the stage and, positioning herself at Rena Matsui’s left side, began to sing the second verse along with the other girls who had marked the beginning of SKE48’s story.

Akane, who was about to complete her Cross outfit and put the black hat on her head, was easily distracted once again as she listened to the music of Tsuyokimono yo resonating loudly in the Nagoya Dome. To be honest, she was still impressed by the prowess Jurina managed to demonstrate. A few weeks ago, when Jurina informed her of her desire to invite as many graduated members as possible on stage, Akane found herself naturally thrilled by the idea.

Jurina had certainly succeeded: not only had she brought the entire Team S first generation back, for the fans’ greatest pleasure, but also many other graduated members were scheduled to appear throughout her graduation concert. Regarding the song Akane would be performing in a couple of minutes now, the former idol was feeling quite impatient, and admittedly also a little nervous, to be reforming the original trio on stage.

Chancing a glance through the mirror of her makeup booth, Akane could see Tomoka Wakabashi and Rina Matsumoto who were finishing adjusting their black and pink satin costumes. While Tomoka was already wearing her jacket over her white blouse, Rina had just finished putting on her pink tiered skirt and was now taking a seat to complete her costume with the usual knee-high patent boots.

Akane let out a small sigh, a wave of nostalgia sweeping over her.

In a few short minutes now, a staff member would enter the dressing room and ask them to join the main stage. Akane was acutely conscious that, once on stage, time would fly by, and the performance would be over in no time. That’s why she was determined to take advantage of the incredible opportunity to savor this magical moment, conscious that she would likely never relive it in her life again.

When Akane heard her cellphone beeping, she diverted her attention from the two other girls and looked down to the device placed on the table in front of her. After checking the time, and discovering she still had a little time left before the beginning of her performance, Akane grabbed her phone in curiosity, discovering she had received a text from Airi.

“Hi Churi,

I heard that Jurina’s graduation concert has begun. I don’t know if you’ve already performed on stage yet, but I really hope you’ll enjoy yourself today!

When I arrived at Junkudo thirty minutes ago, there was already a long queue waiting outside, so I’m guessing the sign session will last a little longer than planned. By the way, a fan asked about you. He was wondering if you would make a surprise appearance during my sign session, like you did in February for my previous book. He looked a little disappointed when I told him it wasn’t going to happen, as you’re on stage today for Jurina’s graduation concert…

Say hi to the other girls for me!

Airi.”

Akane’s mouth tugged into a smile as she read the message, quickly typing a reply back to her friend. She barely had time to press the Send button, when the door of the dressing room opened and a staff member told them they were now awaited on stage. Akane immediately muted her phone and put it away in her bag, before checking her appearance in the mirror one last time.

Putting on her leather gloves, she carefully made sure her black, cross-shaped earrings were well attached, before grabbing her black hat from the table and adjusting it on her head. Over her shoulder, she heard Tomoka Wakabashi asking if she was ready and, once she was sure her outfit was complete, Akane followed the two other girls out of the dressing room in the direction of the main stage.

Rena grabbed her iPod from her backpack and placed each earphone inside her ears; her fingers slid over the screen of the device as she searched for one particular song. Once she found it amongst her tracklist, she pressed Play and adjusted the volume, closing her eyes to concentrate better and not be distracted by the agitation of the dressing room. As an upbeat piano melody began filling her ears, Rena’s lips silently moved in synchronization with the lyrics of the SKE song.

Ame no pianist ga The pianist of the rain

Ai wo hiite iru wa Playing with my love

Building no machi ni From a building in the city

Kanaderu kanashii melody There's a sad song playing

Mado no kenban wo The keyboard made of windows

Tataku shizuku no yubi Struck by the fingers made of rain

Watashi dake no concerto Plays concerto just for me

Earlier on, Rena had studiously rehearsed in the dancing room the choreography of each and single song she was going to perform today, but she also wanted to make sure her memory wouldn’t fail her accidently when it came to the lyrics. Rena couldn’t be more familiar with Ame no Pianist, a 2010 song she had performed plenty of times in the past, yet she was determined not to leave anything to chance.

Feeling a sudden, small tap on her shoulder, Rena fluttered her eyes open and removed her earphones when she saw Yui Matsushita addressing her. “Rena-san, we’re leaving ahead in the direction of the stage.”

“Alright,” Rena replied, watching as she and Moe Yamashita - the two girls with whom she was going to perform that song – left and walked out of the dressing room.

The trio wasn’t due to sing until fifteen more minutes: there were two other songs coming up after Sansei Kawaii, the song the young SKE’s kenkyuusei were currently performing on the main stage of the Nagoya Dome. That’s why Rena knew she had sufficient time to go over the song once again. Placing the earphones back inside her ears, Rena resumed the music and focused her attention on the lyrics once more.

A few minutes later, when the music came to an end, Rena was now certain she knew the lyrics by heart. She put her iPod away, before carefully studying her dark and red outfit in the mirror. If there was one important thing that her career as an idol had taught her, it’s that you were never safe from an unfortunate wardrobe malfunction.

Rena raised her hand to her hair, checking that the large, red rose pinned on the right side of her head was well attached. Once she felt confident enough that the accessory wouldn’t fall, her gaze fell down to the red sleeveless top, then to the black cumberband that she was wearing. At last, her eyes landed on her red skirt, making sure that it was properly clipped around her waist.

Alright, I think I’m all good.

Now that she was all set for her next performance, Rena wondered whether she should use the time left to rest and relax. Soon, the music of Sansei Kawaii grabbed her attention again, and she chose instead to make her way towards the stage. Somehow, she was a little curious to see how well the kenkyuusei were doing with that energetic song. Despite having left SKE a long time ago, Rena followed the group’s activities from afar.

And if there was one certitude she had anchored deep within her - and this even when she was still a prominent member of SKE – it was that the group’s future lied with the new, young generations.

“Rena-san! Rena-san!”

Rena had barely stepped out of the dressing room when her feet paused on the floor; her eyes widened in surprise as she heard someone call her name. It must have been years since she heard that voice, she would recognize its distinctive feminine, cheerful tone anywhere. Pleasure softened Rena’s face and she turned around, facing the familiar twenty-nine-year-old, former AKB48 member who was approaching her.

“Yuki-san,” Rena threw her a smile. “How have you been? It’s been a while. Aren’t you a little early for your performance?”

“Ah yes,” Yuki conceded willingly. “But I don’t mind waiting. Mayuyu’s duet starts in less than half an hour, so I figured we could arrive together.”

Rena followed Yuki’s gaze as she inclined her head and glanced over her shoulder, noticing Mayu and Jurina chatting together a bit further down the corridor. Even though Rena was too far to catch what the two other girls were saying, Jurina’s whole body language spoke for itself. Her radiant smile grew broader at every word exchanged; a genuine, small laugh occasionally left her lips.

Jurina’s happiness was nothing but manifest.

Rena’s mouth curved with affection; she hadn’t witnessed this kind of scene in years. It was all so familiar, that it brought back many, fond memories. Despite their often, conflicting agendas, she had never seen a friendship more solid and stable than the one uniting Jurina and Mayu Watanabe. The fact that they managed to remain friends throughout the years - even after Mayu’s graduation - didn’t come as a real surprise.

When it came to the friendships she forged, no one was more loyal, reliable and constant than Jurina Matsui. Despite this acknowledgement of Jurina’s personality, it didn’t prevent the moment from being any less touching in Rena’s eyes.

“I see your solo career is going extremely well,” Rena said, bringing her attention back to Yuki. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you very much.” Yuki’s cheeks flushed at the compliment. “There are so many talented artists; I wasn’t expecting my new album to sell so well. I’m going back on tour next month; a few dates have just been added. It might be a little tiring sometimes, but there’s nothing more gratifying and motivating than to do something you love.”

“That’s true,” Rena murmured. How could she object to such a statement, when she herself had embraced an acting career, thereupon fulfilling her ultimate, childhood dream? “I’m sorry, but I think I’d better get going. I was on my way to the stage; I’m expected in less than ten minutes.”

“Oh, sure. I’ll see if those two are done chatting,” Yuki said, swinging her head around to look at Mayu and Jurina. “I guess not,” she let out a small chuckle after discovering the two friends still profoundly immerged in a passionate conversation. “When those two are in their own little world…”

“It’s hard to get them out of it?” Rena offered, a warm note of amusement in her tone. From her peripheral vision, she noticed a staff member approaching her: she knew it was her cue to leave. “It was really nice talking to you. See you later?”

“Of course! I won’t hold you up any longer, I just wanted to say that…” Yuki’s friendly, cheerful voice took on an unexpected, serious tone. “I really miss this. I know it was a long time ago, but I sometimes remember the Summer the four of us spent at Mayuyu’s beach house. We had so much fun together, didn’t we?”

Rena blinked in astonished silence, a little taken aback by the abrupt change of subject. Even though she couldn’t really fathom why Yuki was bringing it up – nor the reason behind the strange, expectant look the other girl was giving her – casting her mind back to that particular week in July 2015 inevitably brought back a sense of nostalgia.

“Yes, we did. Everything about that week…” Rena smiled reminiscently. “Everything was perfect. We really had a great time.”

“Yes, and maybe one day…” Yuki’s voice trailed away.

Rena didn’t need her to finish. She knew perfectly well what Yuki was implying and could even hear the touch of hopefulness in her tone. Rena found herself momentarily distracted when the staff member addressed her, warning her it was time to leave. Rena absently nodded back in return and, after giving Yuki a small, apologetic look, couldn’t resist one, last glance in Jurina’s direction.

Rena was startled to find out the two friends were done talking, and now looking in their direction. Despite being acutely aware of the male staff member’s presence by her side, Rena was unable to turn away when she saw Jurina staring at her across the distance, the young girl making no attempt to hide the fact that she was watching her.

For a moment, they held one another’s gaze and, as Rena let the meaning of Yuki’s previous words sink in, found herself secretly wishing she could one day relive those carefree days of happiness.

4.20 PM.

Jurina’s 2020 graduation concert was now halfway through. Unexpected guests, exceptional performances. On this day in late September, the lucky audience at the Nagoya Dome was definitely in for a treat. After such a memorable opening and an impeccable first part, it was hard to see how the second part would manage to surpass such a level of perfection. If the fans believed they had already seen it all, then they were definitely not at the end of their surprises.

The team KII had just cleared the stage after Kodoku no na Ballerina; Airi Mizuno rightfully owed herself the cheers of the public with her flawless technic in the title role of the graceful ballerina. A videoclip was now projected on the main screen, showing a short feminine silhouette - dressed in a black, masculine military outfit - energetically running in the woods. Her slightly inconstant breathing, heard distinctly through the speakers, was the evident proof that this little chase had been going on for a while.

“Dammit,” the complaint escaped her gritted teeth when she realized she was having a hard time keeping up the distance with the incredibly athletic, feminine silhouette she was chasing.

Suddenly diverging from her course, she hid and pressed her back to a tree, quickly pondering over her options. The camera - which had until now carefully avoided revealing her identity to the spectator – progressively moved upwards from her black boots to her combat fatigues, pausing and zooming in on her face. The image of a determined Mayu Watanabe flashed on the main screen of the Nagoya Dome.

“Mouse to Team B,” Mayu tried to keep her voice calm and steady when she opened the communication. “Nobunaga is approaching an inhabited area. Do you copy?”

“Team B to Mouse,” a feminine, slightly crackled voice replied in her earpiece. “We’re five minutes away from your location. Please don’t engage the target before our arrival.”

“It will be too late,” Mayu argued. “She will have escaped by the time you arrive. I can’t let that happen. I’m going after her.”

“No, it’s too dangerous,” her interlocutor protested in alarm. “Mouse, I repeat. Do not engage the targ-”

Mayu abruptly cut the communication with the rest of her team, her eyes fired with anger as she stared back at the agile, feminine figure quickly disappearing out of the woods. “Oh no, I’m not letting you escape,” Mayu grumbled, her fingers tightly gripping the pistol attached to her belt. “Not this time.”

The videoclip paused, the image froze and lingered on Mayu’s intense, focused expression, until her features gradually faded as the screen turned black. The audience waited in anticipation, an upbeat pop music filling the silence the moment after. Instantly, everyone’s attention flew to the main screen: large, white letters flashed on the surface, announcing the imminence of the next song.

R I V A L R Y

From a trapdoor carefully hidden underneath the stage, two feminine silhouettes appeared, the lights shining upon them immediately. Gasps of surprise echoed in the stadium as Jurina and Mayu Watanabe, both dressed in the black military outfits taken from the videoclip, were standing back to back at the center of the stage.

Anata wa watashi no raibaruda You’re my rival

Watashi no eien no raibaru My eternal rival

Watashitachi wa dochira mo We both want

Toppu ni tōtatsu shitai To reach the top

Watashitachi hitori no tame But there is only place

Dake no basho ga arimasu For one of us

Kore wa mujihina sekaidesu This is a merciless world

Dare ga ikinokoru nodesu ka? Who will survive?

As the pair began singing together the first verse of the 2015 AKB song - their first and unique duet in the history of the 48group – the unexpected appearance of the graduated and emblematic member Mayu Watanabe caused waves of euphoria among the already misty-eyed spectators of the Nagoya stadium.

Jurina tried her best to clear her head and control her agitation, somewhat frightened by the sound of her own heart beating wildly inside her chest. From the minute the concert had begun and she had stepped on stage in front of a packed stadium for her duet with Acchan on Oogoe Diamond, she had felt a shot of adrenaline course her veins. Her excitement was at its highest level and - as the first part of the concert went smoothly without a single incident to deplore - the electrifying sensation hadn’t left her since.

A few songs ago, they had officially entered the last third of the concert, and a completely different feeling monopolized her senses. Despite her best efforts, the muscles in her stomach wouldn’t stop clenching nervously at the imminence of her next duet. It was true that other SKE members sang that song occasionally in the past - mostly during theater performances - it hadn’t been her case in many years.

Yes, the possibility sometimes presented itself to her, but Jurina had a hard time imagining herself singing that particular duet with someone else than her original partner. Back in 2010, when she listened to the lyrics of Two Roses for the first time, she couldn’t break free from the feeling that song had been written specifically with both she and Rena in mind. Two Roses had always been a significant, special song; one that required detailed, careful preparation before going on stage.

When Jurina finally became fully conscious of her romantic feelings for her WCenter, this song only grew to be even more meaningful.

“Let me help you.”

Jurina came back to her senses when she heard a feminine voice softly addressing her, noticing through the mirror Rena - already elegantly dressed in a red, long dress - approaching her from behind. For a split second, Jurina wondered what the older girl could possibly want to assist her with, until feeling Rena’s fingers on her back, prudently pulling the zipper of her blue dress up to the top.

“Thank you,” Jurina voiced her gratitude, until her smile vanished when she noticed Rena’s slightly troubled expression in the mirror. It was true they hadn’t had the opportunity to exchange more than a few words since the beginning of the concert, not that she expected any less. The first twenty-five songs followed one after another at breakneck speed, even sometimes obliging her to sing a few songs in a row without a single interlude.

Even so, Jurina never missed the opportunity to steal a glance at Rena when she had the chance. When they crossed paths in the dressing room or happened to share the stage together: each and single time, Jurina was struck by Rena’s serious, intense focused expression. Despite the general restlessness and noisy environment surrounding her, Rena’s impeccable professionalism always seemed to take the upper hand: she never let herself get distracted unnecessarily.

“What is it?” Jurina asked in concern, turning around to face her once Rena was fully done adjusting her dress. “Is something wrong?”

“I just…” Rena hesitated. “I was just asking myself if it’s really a good idea to do that song together.”

Jurina frowned, bewildered. “I don’t understand. When I suggested we sing that duet together, you accepted. You don’t want to do it anymore?”

“That’s not it,” Rena nodded negatively. “I want to sing this song with you; I really do. But I also know what this song means to you: how very emotional you can get sometimes when you sing it. Believe me when I say I want nothing more but to please you and make you happy on this special day but when I accepted to come, I promised myself not to do anything to cause you pain or sadness. And this song…”

“I…” Emotion closed Jurina’s throat, trapping the rest of her words.

Unable to speak, Jurina stared back at her wordlessly, struck by the range of different emotions conveyed through Rena’s eyes. Hesitation. Apprehension. Concern. But it wasn’t everything Jurina realized as she desperately tried to maneuver her thoughts and studied Rena’s expression at length. If she wasn’t mistaken, there was also a perceptible note of genuine caring and affection in those brown eyes fixed on her.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Rena sadly murmured. “The performance hasn’t even started yet and you’re already crying.”

Jurina widened her eyes, startled when Rena delicately brushed away a tear from her cheek: she hadn’t even felt it rolling down. When Rena was about to pull her hand away again, she quickly trapped Rena’s fingers inside hers, keeping them closely pressed to her cheek. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe emotion will get the best of me and I won’t be able to hold my tears back on stage. I don’t care; it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to live with regrets.”

As Akane was pensively removing her Kiss Datte Hidarikiki black and red outfit, she couldn’t help but steal another discreet peek at Jurina who was by her side getting changed, still feeling a little disturbed by what had happened at the end of the song. She and Jurina hadn’t shared a word since they left the stage a couple of minutes ago yet, the more Akane looked back on this strange final spin and the unusual way in which Jurina behaved, the more she was convinced it hadn’t ended exactly as the younger girl originally planned.

A few weeks ago, when Jurina suggested centering this particular song with her, Akane hadn’t seen any valid reason to object and had gladly accepted her invitation. Teasing her friend about the infamous kiss, crucial part of the choreography, was way too easy. When she had confronted Jurina and the latter had proclaimed loud and clear she had nothing to worry about - advancing the fact that she didn’t kiss other members on the lips anymore - Akane had suppressed a knowing smile.

It was indeed true that the kissing monster’s ardors had considerably calmed down over the years, but Akane wasn’t naïve. Jurina’s flirtatious, mischievous behavior was an inseparable part of her personality. No matter her level of maturity, it would never entirely disappear. Moreover, Akane couldn’t ignore the great temptation this particular song always represented throughout the years for a girl as playful as Jurina.

That was why, as innocent, casual and sincere as Jurina tried to appear on the subject, Akane was practically certain her friend would never let such an opportunity pass. It was her graduation concert: the very last time she would ever be performing that song as a SKE48 member.

Kiss Datte Hidarikiki You even kiss left-handed

Watashi me wo tojite kizuita yo I noticed while my eyes were closed

Anata sukoshi hidari ue kara You start a little from the left

Hora ne kuchibiru kasaneru And there, our lips meet

Yume wa anata no kikiude My dream is your dominant arm

When Jurina seized Akane’s hand to make her spin, the latter clearly saw Jurina’s lips quickly approaching hers. Despite being fully conscious of the bad deed Jurina was about to commit, Akane didn’t try to avoid the imminent kiss. Somehow, she couldn’t find it in her to be upset at Jurina’s action, deciding to grant her that last little moment of pleasure.

As Akane was preparing herself to receive Jurina’s lips on hers, she was startled when the contact didn’t happen. Instead of following through with the kiss, Jurina changed direction at the last instant, pressing a chaste kiss to Akane’s cheek. Under normal circumstances, Akane wouldn’t have thought too much about it after seeing Jurina’s mischievous expression, understanding she had been played, and Jurina never had any intention of intimately kissing her.

Today, Jurina’s eyes reflected no sign of mischief, but an unusual flash of hesitation mixed with unease. It only lasted a few seconds: Jurina quickly regaining her composure when the lights went off and the music stopped. Yet, Jurina’s strange expression had spoken for itself: it was enough information to tell Akane that something had happened inside her friend’s head, making her change her mind at the last minute.

When they moved backstage, Akane absent-mindedly noticed the Team E – with the graduated member Rena Matsui at their head – patiently waiting at the entrance of the stage for their turn to perform. She didn’t miss either – although it was quite brief - the visual exchange between both Matsui, as Jurina shyly returned the gentle smile the older girl was sending her way.

Back then, Akane hadn’t thought much of the interaction between the two girls.

In retrospective, and in the light of all those elements, Akane wondered if Jurina’s unexpected change of heart during the final spin of the performance might be linked to a certain, twenty-nine-year-old, brown-haired girl. A girl who shared the same surname as Jurina’s, and who was currently performing Team E’s song Dareka no Sei ni ha Shinai on the main stage of the Nagoya Dome.

Akane couldn’t hold it any longer: she had to know if her intuition was correct. “You were planning on kissing me during the final spin, weren’t you? Why did you hesitate? How come you changed your mind?”

Jurina turned to look at her. “Are you saying you wanted me to really kiss you? I thought you would feel too embarrassed about it, so I changed my mind.”

Akane wasn’t in the least fooled by Jurina’s apparent relaxed attitude, even less by the playfulness in her tone. After more than a decade by Jurina’s side, she was capable of analyzing her reactions: the slight moment of hesitation in Jurina’s voice before she replied was the evident proof that her question managed to destabilize her.

“I don’t think it had anything to with me,” Akane said carefully. “I think you changed your mind for another reason: because you knew Rena was watching.”

“W-What? Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you because of Rena? It doesn’t… You’re not making any sense now.”

No, it doesn’t make any sense, Akane almost replied, but kept her thoughts to herself when Jurina turned her back on her and continued undressing as if nothing happened. Akane remained quiet, beginning to feel slightly concerned by her friend’s defensive tone and embarrassed answers. She was never one to jump to conclusions, yet one thing was for certain: she didn’t like at all how this whole thing was starting to look.

Jurina hung up after her video call with Mariko, a smile of pleasure spread over her face as their conversation lingered in her memory. Of course, a part of her remained sad that her thirty-four-year-old friend wasn’t present today for her graduation concert. Unfortunately, Mariko had work commitments requiring her to be in Madrid, and she wouldn’t be back in Tokyo until the end of the month. Despite her absence, Jurina was extremely happy they were able to get in touch and exchange a few words on this special day.

Jurina put her tablet away, a small laugh inadvertently escaping her lips when she remembered the funny way her older friend appeared on the screen earlier on, wearing a ‘I love Spain’ tee-shirt, together with a wide-brimmed black Cordobes hat. If it wasn’t for her friend’s noticeably drawn features, Mariko’s goofiness would have easily made her forget about the difference in time zones, and it was barely past 9 am in the Spanish capital.

Distractedly, Jurina listened to the cheerful, KII’s pop song Disco hokenshitsu resounding loudly in the baseball stadium, before setting her eyes on the familiar hat laying on the table in front of her. Reaching out for it, Jurina’s fingers played with the white accessory for a short while, until raising her eyes and checking her matching white outfit in the mirror. In less than ten minutes, she would be stepping on stage for her solo, CENTER.

Feeling the white hat slowly moving between her fingers made everything rush back with vivid clarity. It might have been already five years ago, she would never forget the first time she sung that song in front of a crowd. Between the release of SKE’s new single, her first solo and the shocking announcement of Airi’s graduation, that specific Handshake Day in December 2015 had definitely been emotionally charged.

That time in the dressing room when Rena had gently chastised her as she was playing with her hat nervously. That other moment too, when Rena had noticed her crooked knot and carefully adjusted it, while playfully teasing her about her supposedly legendary issue with ties. But most of all, Rena’s last-minute encouraging, reassuring words after she had confessed to her how terribly anxious she felt about the idea of missing a single step during such an important song.

Even if you make a few minor mistakes, I won’t love you any less.

If there was one person who had demonstrated her unconditional support and successfully helped her get through this stressful day, it was the girl whose angelic face still haunted her days when she cast her mind back to the past and delved into her memories. It was the girl whose soft, lovely voice was currently filling the air of the Nagoya Dome with the first verse of the melancholic ballad Kareha no Station.

As the impressive doors of the main stage closed on her gradually, Jurina let her gaze wander around the Nagoya Dome, taking time to admire the amazing view of forty thousand green light sticks beautifully illuminating the stadium in her honor. As the fans kept chanting her name vigorously, aware of the imminent departure of their favorite idol, Jurina flashed one last smile and mouthed a ‘thank you’ of eternal gratitude to the audience, emotion shimmering in her eyes. The moment after, her face vanished from the screen entirely, the doors shutting once and for all in front of the first and emblematic ace of SKE48.

Jurina remained standing in front of the closed doors, silent, her heart beating wildly inside her chest as she listened to the cheers and the fans still calling her name from the other side. It was almost as if they didn’t want the concert to end quite yet and wished she would come back, surprising them with a couple more songs. But Jurina was perfectly conscious that - even though she would have loved to step back on stage and sing for them again - it was not going to happen.

Her graduation song, the one she had performed a few minutes ago, had marked the end of her 2020 graduation concert irrevocably.

Feeling incredibly moved by this vibrant testimony of their love for her, an unlimited affection that had motivated her to dedicate twelve years of her life to the idol group and to surpass herself at every occasion, it took Jurina a few seconds to capture a male voice addressing her behind her back. When she finally tore her eyes away from the stage she had just left and turned around, she discovered two staff members patiently waiting for her.

Mustering her most polite smile, Jurina was especially cautious not to trip up on her long, satin white dress as she slowly descended the few stairs - clearly appreciating the staff members’ help in the process - and following them when they guided her backstage. After more than two hours and thirty-five songs, numerous guests’ appearances, an impressive mix of AKB and SKE big names on Majijo Teppen Blues and an emotional, final reunion of the Team S first generation on Tooku ni ite mo to complete the picture, Jurina’s 2020 graduation concert had finally come to an end.

On her way backstage, Jurina was approached on many occasions by group members wanting to congratulate her; still she remained in such a daze after such a unique experience, that her voice was locked within her, barely managing to nod and smile back in return to every one of them. As Jurina reached the dressing room, the two staff members accompanying her left her side, Jurina’s steps soon pausing on the floor as she felt her eyes watering.

Startled, she raised her hand to touch the moistening sensation on her skin, wiping away the tear that had slowly found its way down her cheek. She had done her very best not to cry too much during the concert, especially during the last songs. So why were emotions getting the best of her now of all times? When Jurina sensed someone approaching, she tried to conceal her emotional state behind a fake smile yet was immediately caught off guard when she discovered the person’s identity.

Rena was standing by the door of the dressing room, giving her a look of mingled surprise, confusion and concern. “Jurina… what’s wrong? It was such a beautiful concert; you should be so happy and proud of yourself.”

The ghost of a smile flitted across Jurina’s sad features; Rena was entirely right. Everything did indeed go mostly as planned and without any major incident to deplore. Yet, she found herself incapable to answer Rena’s question. How could she give her a semblance of an explanation, when she ignored herself the reason behind her tears? Those inexplicable tears she had quickly attempted to hide, but which had unfortunately not escaped Rena’s keen attention?

And what about this strange, unpleasant sensation of emptiness filling her?

Jurina felt the tears rising unbidden behind her lids, threatening to trickle down her face. In the past, she always felt a tinge of frustration when a SKE concert reached its end, not wanting to leave the stage quite yet and instead sing a few more songs to please the audience. But this sudden aching hollow void inside her wasn’t like anything she had ever experienced before. It was disconcerting and disturbing, even beginning to frighten her.

“Jurina…?”

At the sound of Rena’s hesitant voice calling her name, she stepped forward and reduced the short distance separating them, leaning forward to bury her face against Rena’s shoulder. Tears began falling remorselessly down her cheeks and Jurina fought hard not to weep openly, until her breath caught in her lungs, shocked by her own actions when she realized what she had done.

What on earth was she doing?

Rena was only being nice and considerate; yet she was selfishly taking advantage of it for her own benefit, without thinking about the consequences. A feeling of profound unease mixed with guilt swept through Jurina’s chest, realizing she had completely let herself guide by her emotions and overstepped her boundaries with Rena. She and Rena weren’t that close anymore; she had no right to throw herself into her arms in such a shameful, casual way.

“I…” Jurina’s voice trembled, as she began to pull back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

Jurina was taken by surprise when Rena refused to let go, instead sliding an arm around her back and keeping her close. “It’s alright, I’m here. Talk to me.”

Jurina shuddered when Rena’s soft fingers caressed her back delicately through the fabric of her dress, her eyes fluttering close as she couldn’t help despite herself but relax in Rena’s protective, warm embrace. “Is this… Is this how you felt when you graduated?” Jurina finally managed to ask, still somewhat distressed by the multitude of conflicted emotions overwhelming her. “This immense happiness when you were singing on stage, then a terrible void inside you when it all… stopped?”

“Ah, I see,” Rena quietly murmured. “This bittersweet sensation you’re having right now; I think every girl who graduated went through the same. But, it won’t last. In a few weeks, maybe months, it will have passed. I promise you that.”

Jurina didn’t say anything, relishing instead the sensation of Rena’s fingers beginning to caress her hair slowly and tenderly. To be honest, Jurina was having a really hard time understanding the reason behind Rena’s patience and incredible gentleness. By now, Jurina would have expected the older girl to release herself from her hold, and make sure she didn’t try to invade her personal space again.

Fearing that another word from her might ruin this incredibly pleasant moment between them, Jurina kept her mouth closed, while desperately attempting to make sense of the situation. Rena was only trying to bring her comfort and ease her worries: it didn’t mean anymore than that, Jurina tried to convince herself. Yet, as Jurina was careful not to jump to conclusions and falsely misinterpret Rena’s actions as more than a simple act of friendliness, she couldn’t deny how happy she had felt all day to have Rena by her side during such a crucial moment of her life.

As the seconds flew by, and Jurina was more than conscious she would at some point have no choice but to extricate herself from Rena’s arms, realization dawned on her that she didn’t want this reunion to be the last. Jurina swallowed a nervous lump in her throat, uncapable of keeping to herself any longer the question burning her lips. She needed to ask. She needed to know.

“Will I… see you again?” The question left Jurina’s lips in a whisper. In fact, she had uttered those words in such a feeble voice, she wasn’t even sure Rena had heard her at all. A glimmer of doubt that grew and developed within her as she waited and waited for a reply but didn’t receive a single one in return. But she didn’t want to let this opportunity pass, Jurina was sure of herself when she slowly disentangled herself from Rena’s embrace to look at her.

The great surprise plastered on Rena’s face told Jurina she had definitely heard her before, contrary to her initial belief. And Rena’s reaction, coupled with her lack of answer, made her fear she might have been somewhat presumptuous by believing there was a chance Rena would accept to meet her again. Maybe for Rena, this day was a one-time thing; an exception she had agreed to make only because it was her graduation concert.

“I know it’s already been three years and maybe today didn’t mean anything to you but…” Jurina paused, her voice trailing away uncertainly. “But after seeing you today, I realized how much I missed you and I didn’t want this moment to be the last of us. So, can we… can we see each other again? It could be for anything you want: Dinner, lunch, or even a simple coffee.”

Jurina watched Rena’s lips parting, yet she didn’t have time to speak that a staff member interrupted them, informing Jurina she was expected for a short, exclusive interview with Nikkan Sports. Jurina silently nodded back to the male staff member and began to follow him obediently, before abruptly halting when she realized she had no assurance the other girl wouldn’t have already left by the time her interview ended.

Decidedly turning on her heels, Jurina asked politely for the staff member to wait a little longer, before glancing back at Rena in apprehension. She couldn’t wait: she needed to hear her reply at once. She had to know if they still had a chance to mean something to each other. If Rena refused her offer and preferred to keep her distance with her, then she wouldn’t insist and accept Rena’s decision.

But what if she said yes?

What if they had an opportunity to reconnect?

Jurina mustered the courage to speak up. “Rena, can I…” She tried to steady the shakiness in her voice. “Will I see you again?”

Rena’s mouth curved into a smile and gave her a small nod in return; it was all Jurina needed to have her hopes rekindled and feel the tension in her body dissipating. Jurina’s heart leaped inside her chest; joy warmed her from within. On this particular day of September 2020, she had unquestionably turned an important page of her life.

It was now up to her to begin a new chapter.

#wmatsui #matsui jurina #matsui rena #wmatsui fanfic #SKE48 #AKB48 #Destiny #chapter 32 #Heartbeat trilogy #Partners sequel

26 notes · View notes